#red-archivist rambles

[red-archivist]

SOMEONE APOLOGIES-JON'ED MY LOCAL BOOKSHOP'S POST-IT WALL i'm going to get you

[misfitmagpie]

Well I will gladly take a look at the fully revealed logo! Though I will say that red-archivist pointed out some good stuff in this post. But we can take a deeper look into certain things!

Also p.s.: You will want to read the giant ramble to the end, because I noticed something as I was finishing, and it puts everything in an interesting context.

As mentioned in that post, the combination of the alchemical symbols for salt, mercury, and sulphur do indeed form the tria prima, the three primes or components of life.

⊖ or salt, which represents the earth and the human body. In alchemy it also symbolises the lower consciousness, self-knowledge, and wisdom.

☿ or mercury I already covered last time, representing the mind, the omnipresent spirit of life, and stood as symbol for intellect, imagination, moral judgement, and the higher mental faculties. The alchemical associations of mercury have a strong connection with the Greek/Roman gods Hermes/Mercury, a messenger god who also acted as a chthonic deity, a psychopomp and god of boundaries to be exact. Which might be relevant, might not. (He was also a shepherd god, just adding that detail)

🜍 or sulphur represents the spirit or soul of all materials and living things. In alchemy it is seen as synonymous with consciousness and the expansion of thought. And is seen as the bridge that connects the body with mind, thus it is seen as the key to understanding the inner workings of the soul and consciousness. It’s interesting to me that the sulphur is in the logo 4 times, connected to the circle that encompasses the salt and mercury symbols, and the chevrons (I’ll get to those in a moment). This could have been purely aesthetic, but they could have also simply opted to have the sulphur symbol instead of one of the chevrons and have pretty much the same effect. Instead they chose the alchemical symbol of the soul, also seen as what ties body and mind together, also an element that is strongly associated with heat and fire, to encompass the body and mind, together with heraldic symbols of protection. It’s an interesting choice which makes me wonder about the mindset of the people who founded this organisation. (Maybe they are the types to believe in purifying fire, or purity of the soul as a way to protect oneself against the horrors out there? Who knows.)

The double ^ are chevrons, a heraldic symbol associated with protection, and meant to represent the roof of a house. Even the name is derived from the French word for “rafter”. It is also used in military or police uniforms to indicate rank or length of service. It is interesting to me that the bottom left chevron is an inverted version of the top right. The inverted version being next to the symbol for mercury or the mind, and the regular next to the symbol for salt or the body. Without it being in full colour, I can’t say much about any particular heraldic or symbolic links that might have. At most I can speculate that maybe it’s hinting at how the mind might not be as safe as the body in such a service, of course that can also be my own knowledge of TMA colouring my interpretation.

The O.I.A.R. in the top banner has been revealed! And it’s nice to get confirmation that I guessed correctly on the R! Personally I am not very good with acronyms, but @emdashingaway correctly guessed that it would be this. In my previous post about The Magnus Protocol logo she pointed out that it might stand for Office of Incident Assessment and Response, which now seems very plausible!

Now the background has some interesting repeating symbols too.

🜏

This is the Leviathan Cross, in alchemy another symbol associated with sulphur (in particular black sulphur) and thus also the soul. However it is worth noting that Anton LaVey, founder of the Church of Satan, has adopted the Leviathan Cross as a symbol of his Church in the 1960s. Though I can’t immediately find much more about it and its origins beyond the alchemical association and the very modern Satanic association. (The name Leviathan strikes me as interesting too, but there is too much that can be said about it, especially for a symbol that just occurs in the background.)

🜇

This is the alchemical symbol for aqua regia (derived from the Latin for “royal water” or “regal water”), it is a mixture of is a mixture of nitric acid and hydrochloric acid, optimally in a molar ratio of 1:3. Historically aqua regia was used in alchemy in the process of attempting to create the philosopher’s stone. It is also used to help dissolve gold and platinum within actual chemistry!

♁

Is the symbol for antimony is associated with the animal nature or wild spirit of man and nature, and it was often symbolised by the wolf.

🜘

This is the symbol for bismuth, while it does get mentioned in alchemical texts, the particular use and associations seem to be unclear. All that I can seem to find is that in early days, it was often confused for tin or lead. And that apparently Miners in the age of alchemy also gave bismuth the name tectum argenti, or “silver being made”. (Also it’s chemical symbol is Bi, which is funny given how apparently some have discovered that they are bi thanks to TMA)

I hope this is visible, but one of the symbols in the background also looks an awful lot like one of the alchemical symbols for tin. It looks like a curved X with circles at the ends of the legs. Tin in alchemy is associated with the planet Jupiter, and is sometimes called the ‘breath of life. ’ It represents the idea that the whole is stronger than the sum of its parts.

⚥

From what I can find, this is not strictly speaking an alchemical symbol. Clearly a combination of the male and female gender symbols (each of which is actually derived from the symbols for Mars and Venus respectively, which do get used in alchemy actually), it is generally seen as a hermaphroditic symbol (using the strict broad biological label here, not referring to intersex, I just want to point that out). But given all of the alchemy references so far, I suspect that it might be referencing the rebis (from the Latin res bina, meaning dual or double matter), the ultimate end product of the alchemical great work. It is sometimes described as the divine hermaphrodite—a reconciliation of spirit and matter, a being of both male and female qualities. A lot can be said about the great work in alchemy, and this post is already long enough honestly.

And lastly…

Take this, flip it upside-down, and you have the shape of the logo in which all these symbols are displayed. This is the symbol for the philosophers’ stone. In alchemy it is an unknown substance sought after by alchemists, said to be capable of turning base metals into precious ones (like gold and silver), can be used to derive an elixir of life, and was even thought to bring about spiritual revitalisation. And it symbolises perfection at its finest, enlightenment, and heavenly bliss.

And while researching this, I also noticed something rather interesting. It might end up not being relevant at all, but I discovered that a famous alchemist was named Albertus Magnus who was born some time before 1200 in the Duchy of Bavaria (the flag and coat of arms of which during the Wittelsbach dynasty sports a rather nice diamond pattern, a bit like the pattern you see within the triangle of the logo). He was a saint with a deep interest in a large variety of topics including logic, theology, botany, geography, astronomy, astrology, alchemy, mineralogy, zoology, physiology, phrenology, justice, law, etc. I recommend potentially checking out the wiki page on Albertus Magnus that I shared earlier if you are interested in knowing more, there is a lot of history there. But it’s interesting that he shares a surname with Jonah Magnus, founder of the Magnus Institute.

Conclusion:

Given all that I have managed to dig up about the symbols within the logo, and the indirectly connected links with suspiciously named historical figures, in particular with the context of there being another Bouchard within the Magnus Protocol, I can’t help but be suspicious of whatever this British civil service is actually getting up to behind the scenes. In particular what they think they might be trying to accomplish using the Fear Entities.

Of course at this point it becomes pure speculation. But I am more than happy to hear everyone’s ideas, speculation, and contributions!

[helpimstuckposting]

Okay I saw someone else putting characters to the four elements, but that got me thinking about the actual statements that have been read out and I got a hunch. Below are my red string ramblings of a mad man

So I looked up the elements of alchemy and found the planetary metals and what they can represent

Lead, Saturn - Harvest, Crops, Husbandry

Tin, Jupiter - Internal Organization, External Relations

Iron, Mars - War and Bloodshed

Gold, Sun - Helios, Light and Sight

Copper, Venus - Love and Beauty

Mercury - Messages and Communication

Silver, Moon - Intuition and Subconscious, Hunters, Crossroads

Now, seeing them all makes me wonder if my hunch is correct or if I’m just seeing things as confirmation bias, but I went ahead and assigned each to the cases they reminded me of, and included the four elements as well. One of the planetary metals connects to communication and technically all of the cases are communication in some way, but I specifically only put it as a label on cases that were categorized with the communication type (chat boards, phone calls, email, etc)

MAGP01 - Venus, Mercury (love for her husband, message boards) EARTH, FIRE

MAGP02 - Venus (beauty)

MAGP03 - Saturn (crops) EARTH

MAGP04 - Mars (bloodshed)

MAGP05 - Sun (sight) AIR

MAGP06 - Mars, Mercury (Needles, phone call)

MAGP07 - Jupiter, Mercury (response department, email) FIRE

MAGP08 - Moon (crossroads, liminal spaces) AIR

MAGP09 - Mars (bloodshed)

MAGP10 - Jupiter, Moon (external relations, intuition) WATER

MAGP11 - Venus, Mercury (beautiful tattoo, email) WATER

MAGP12 - Jupiter, Mars (external relations, bloodshed)

MAGP13 - Mars, Mercury (bloodshed, voicemail)

MAGP14 - Saturn (husbandry)

MAGP15 - Moon, Jupiter (hunt, external relations) WATER

MAGP16 - Venus (love, heart) EARTH

MAGP17 - Mars (anger, murder)

MAGP18 - Moon (subconscious? could also be sight if an archivist did this, but I’m not totally sure) AIR

MAGP19 - Jupiter, Moon (internal organization, Diana’s Tree) FIRE

This could absolutely just be confirmation bias, and none of this is accurate or real but it was fun to research anyway. Idk anything about alchemy so all of this information is just wiki-based and might be majorly incorrect

The AIR labels are mostly based on the Lonely, falling, and disappearing.

EARTH is labelled for cases that mention dirt or digging

WATER is labelled for cases involving the deep, drowning, or dampness

And FIRE are all the instances of what I assume is The Magnus Protocol (burn it all down)

If anyone got this far, thank you for listening to my red string conspiracy ranting! This is more a case of “throw 100 darts at a wall and maybe one of them will stick” rather than an actual comprehensive theory, and it’s probably wildly incorrect but I had fun anyway so 🤷‍♀️

This all mostly stemmed from the fact that Jupiter being linked to “external relations” was ODDLY SPECIFIC, and also the EXACT WORDS used by Wikipedia so I definitely spiraled from there

[tarotrans]

Jonelias Thoughts <3

(With some angsty bits, but shhhh)

Okay, so a continuing Jonelias thought that I have is that Jon goes feral from starving, and either they lock themself in the tunnels to avoid hurting anyone, or for extra angst someone else locks them down there. Jon turns into a giant furred monster, and Elias decides that he doesn't want to have to try again for a new Archivist, so he gets himself out of jail.

Elias finds them in the tunnels and feeds them statements until they pass out. They are completely feral, so it takes Elias a while to get them to stay calm and happy. He then is given the information from The Eye that if he wants Jon back properly, Elias has to give up something he cares about deeply.

Jon wakes up with their head in Eli... Jonah's lap and very disconnected from reality. Jonah just keeps them calm until they can get their bearings. They talk some things through once Jon does, though, and they agree that Jon should just come over for the night, so they have somewhere warm to sleep and such.

Jon realizes that Jonah's eyes are slightly different from each other now and asks about it. Jonah just looks at them with, "I had to sacrifice something dear to keep you, Archive. Please, make it worth my loss." Jon is really confused because Jonah doesn't seem to be blind or anything. Then, they try to focus on what is actually different. They finally notice that his left eye is what is different, and it looks puffy and red. They ask about that, too, and Jonah just smiles and says nothing.

They get up to Jonah's office without much hassle, other than Rosie being surprised to see both Elias and Jon again and asking how they are. They respond politely, and Elias drags Jon outside as soon as he is able to do so. Jon catches a glimpse of themself, and notices that their eyes are a perfect counter to Jonah's. They remember a bunch of random letters of correspondence describing Jonah Magnus' eyes, and they can't say that the gray doesn't look pretty. Especially right next to their own newly hazel eyes. This was going to be their life now. They were completely Elias' now, not just the Archivist or an employee, but his Archive. They don't mind the idea all that much.

(Apologies if this is just rambles, I am very stoned.)

[manylittleguys]

Hi! We're a plural sideblog from Theta's main account. This blog is meant to be a safe space for us, away from our main account where we are not openly plural. I (Arachne) made this blog for the rest of us just to talk about being plural, ramble a bit about our origins or our interests. Just whatever comes to someone's mind. We are a fictive heavy system.

Collective Intros: + anyone's signoff tag info. if not provided, they likely use their name as a signoff and no tag

Core System: the main body of the system, folks who aren't part of sidesystems

Arachne, Administrator & Collective Archivist. it/she. #The library spider

Theta, Host, MINOR. they/them, OG body-keeper

It Lies, Jailor, fictive. it/we

It Knows, Memory Holder & Gatekeeper, fictive. it/They

Icarus, myctive (from mythology). he/him

Deadpool, Prosecutor, fictive. any, go crazy, have fun with my pronouns. no you do not have permission to call me by my name. #red. should be dead. no redemption

Edna Mode, fictive. tentative she/her, "I don't care for that shit"

Wolverine, Anger Issues Holder, fictive. he/him (subject to change) no you do not have permission to call me by my name. #yellow clawed man. posts exclusively in orange text

Boo, introject. they/them (will change) #the cabinet maggot. posts exclusively in purple text

The Pantheon: Sidesystem of Doctor Who fictives. They mostly keep to the innerworld as of late. collective he/they/it, although if any of them decide otherwise they'll bring it up. Collective tags: #🟦⏳, #the doctor speaks

Montessori Sidesystem: made up mostly of minors. please interact accordingly

J, Protector/Caretaker/Babysitter, fictive. he/they/it. #Cowboy Dad

Anoitos, syskid. he/she. #anni cherub

Dipper, syskid, fictive. he/they

Mabel, syskid, fictive. she/her

Link, frequent fronter, Chef & Rationalizer, fictive. they/he. #💚🗡️

A Major Sidesystem: SCP Foundation fictives. collective tags: #a major system, #🔫🤠

Francis W, frequent fronter, Gatekeeper, Consul, fictive. he/they

Apollo, Caretaker, Substitute Babysitter for the Montessori sidesys, noncanon fictive. he/him

Ukulele, Gunslinger & Auxiliary Gatekeeper, fictive. they/them

Alto (signs posts with "A.Clef" and variations), fictive. they/it. #Gay Horror Music Man

anyways, we're still not 100% clear on our complete origins, but we support endo/non-traumagenic systems. not going to have a collective DNI, but don't be rude, and we block liberally.

- Arachne

[guideoftime]

@dutifulsilence ; cont.

   It had worked. Why had it worked though? Why, when he wants the harp to do what it has to do, it does. But when he uses it to fight on instinct he finds himself thrown across a field instead of attacking the creatures that he needed it to. He’s as grateful as he is frustrated, though that anger toward himself was definitely heightened at the feeling of such bone crippling exhaustion. Magical exhaustion, and true exhaustion all at once. He had certainly pushed the boundaries of his own body, in ways he’s only ever had to dream of doing before. 

   When Link moves Sheik frowns and reaches forward, grasping at his wrists and trying to tug them from the tunic he was attempting to rip up. “Stop, these clothes are expensive and we only have so much money. And I like this one.” He can repair the rip in the front from the Lynel’s sword, he can’t repair it if Link yanks off long red strips of it. “I’m fine. I–” that was probably a lie, but it was so instinctual to say. He was hit a lot by those arrows protecting Link, but arrows compared to a gash in someone’s chest seemed so drastically different. 

   His trembling fingers pull back the fabric of the red tunic at that thought, peering through the ripped seams at the peaks of pink flesh he could see. Healed, not even a scar. 

   “I… the fairy, it worked. How strange. There’s no written recordings of fairies working in that way, I don’t even–the dream I had, it still seems ridiculous. To rely on something I saw when sleeping to protect your life and yet…” He’s rambling, distencing himself from what actually happened by relying on knowledge and information gathering. Sheik was an archivist, a recorder of history, a man who was driven by his want to learn. When he falls into those old habits, that desire to work himself to death to find the answer to something, he can push his mind aside. 

   Focus on the situation and not the emotional aspects of it. 

   “The Song of Healing used what was left of the Fairy’s magic to heal you. You might still be sore, muscle aches but you’re healed.” Not dying. He’s not dying and Sheik finds some knot over his chest easing at that feeling. This time. This time he didn’t lose the Hero to his own reckless behavior, but what happens after that?

   What if the next time he gets thrown over a mountain because of Sheik and he doesn’t survive it? What happens when he hits that mountain, cracks his skull open and dies because Sheik can’t piece him back together. 

   What happens? 

   What happens? 

   And that tentative searching hand over Link’s chest suddenly grips the red fabric of the tunic and unwillingly his voice cracks out; “you died on me.” 

   It’s the truth. He died on Sheik. Because of him.

[go-to-the-mirror]

@a-mag-a-day

Before I get into the relisten: hot jon rights.

This is going to be another stream of consciousness ramble. Maybe I'll say something good, maybe I won't.

(The official transcript.)

CW for a little bit of paranoia inducing rambling about Alternates from TMC.

BREEKON That's right. Just wanted… to… to drop off a package.

The way Breekon speaks, all broken up. It's just so sad :(

BREEKON Dunno. ‘s not right on my own. Not right. No point in doing it on my own. Dunno what happens now. Thought I might kill you. Missed my chance. Thought I might just deliver something. So, here’s a coffin. In case you want… to join your friend.

It's sad about Breekon hours :( How are you supposed to mourn for a part of yourself? How are you supposed to heal when you're literally incomplete.

BREEKON Make me. [A whooshing noise starts to rise with Breekon’s words, but immediately ceases when the Archivist speaks] ARCHIVIST Stop. [Heavy static rises] BREEKON What’re you doing? BASIRA Jon, what are you doing? BREEKON What’re you— Stop it. Stop it! ARCHIVIST No. [Breekon winces in pain] BREEKON Enough! Stop looking at me! [Breekon lets out a final cry and flees, a door is hear distantly. Static diminishes]

HOT JON RIGHTS!!!! I love this part it's so cool!!! He's so cool.

We started in a plague. Not like the nasty crawlers, but like bringing any other doom.

Fun fact about me, when I learned about the bubonic plague in primary school I was terrified. Not really of getting sick, though I think it was part of it, but of a red cross painted on a door, a mark of death. I was scared of the certainty that if I was infected, I would die. And no one would try to help, for fear of their own demise.

Not really relevant, but there it is.

Two strangers rolling towards them, unstoppable and uncertain, wearing faces they would only half remember, bringing a fate they would beg their god to forget. They could not hate us any more than they might have hated the rock that falls on them from a crumbling cliff. They did not know us, but they knew what we might do to them, what we might bring them.

This! This is the fear of The Stranger that actually gets me. Not the clowns or the mannequins or whatever, I'm not actually that freaked out by those, and I have yet to find art of Nikola that would actually freak me out or scare me. It's this kind of stuff and the Strangers from WTNV. Standing, staring, they could be right behind you, they're not doing anything but they might, they might at any moment attack. They're unfamiliar and strange and you have to be on your guard because you don't know what to expect, but they don't do anything, they just wait, as your dread grows ever higher.

Horror like that makes me very paranoid. I have a page in my notebook of trying to convince myself that the Alternates from The Mandela Catalogue weren't real, and what I was most freaked out about with them was that they could be anywhere. They could be posing as your friends, they could be in the corner of your room, they could be a puppet show on TV, they could be right behind you.

Don't turn around.

He squeezed its first owner until they stopped, and dumped them in a river, and I stayed with the second until they didn’t know who they were any more than they knew what they were.

The Stranger is weird. <3

The winter in Russia was cold, and in the icy air the absence of our breath was clear for all to see.

I like imagining that, something subtly wrong, you don't even notice it until you do, and when you do, you can't stop noticing it.

I have never known hate before. I have never known loss. But now they are with me always, and I desire nothing but to share them with you.

Don't know what to say to this. Just... :(

BASIRA And don’t open the coffin. ARCHIVIST It is addressed to me… … Yes, alright. You’re right.

I like his sense of humour. It's similar to mine sometimes.

Anyway! This is over! I only said a couple things of worth, but I hope you enjoyed the look into my mind regardless!

[arcadia-fallen-imagines]

hi 🥺 can i ask for relationship headcanons for the cast? (will draw all the ann headcanons thank you and plsplspls im a starving child behind this screen

Oh that's nice! :D

If you decided to try your hands at tinkering, Anne would act as your teacher- you'll start off with something small and simple like say... tinkering a pocket watch; She'll be nice enough to give you some extra tips and tricks. "Hey do you know if you do this..." She'll lean behind you as she place her hands on yours and demonstrate her explanation with careful ease, all the while you're blushing from the close proximity. "...and that's that! ...Hey [name], why is your face red?"

Kaiden would more than happy to teach you about his people; its history, culture, and if one day he takes you to his home he'll carefully guide you through the cave and would make sure he would never abandon you somewhere dark and unfamiliar. But wait, he's been rambling and didn't give you a chance to have a say in edgewise. "My apologies, I didn't mean to--" "No no, I love hearing you talk about your home- it makes me feel, more close to you."

I got two words with Victoria: Sword fight. You know those cliches of having a sparring practice and either one person gets pinned to the wall or when one is defeated the other uses the end of the sword to tilt their head up to look at the victor? This trope is you and Victoria in a nutshell and I will not be convinced otherwise.

With Michael, once he is able to open up to you about his past he would probably sit down with you at the tavern and away from prying ears. A glass of wine for the both of you (or something else if you don't prefer wine, which is valid too) with the both of you playing around with the cards as he tells you quietly, but loud enough for you to hear, about the life of an archivist; their origins, and if you want he'll gift you a journal of your own for you to archive the events in the Anemone Village, of your life, anything that comes to mind.

[amphiptere-art]

I'm going to ramble about my gods.

Particularly the gods that help with the creations of worlds. So this is more importantly about Alvis, Clockwork, and Eternita.

Little refresher. While I have gods of the sun and Moon, and the elements. Along with other aspects. The main three creation gods are detached in such a way that they feel omnipotent. They are the three physical representations of the "artist". Which is me.

Alvis Is the book (archivist). They represent written works. Anything that has been typed or drawn.

Clockwork is the pencil. He is the act of creating the story. He also is the representational of The protagonist going through there story. Often connected to the protagonist where required.

Eternata is the world. While clockwork creates it, and Alvis writes down its history. They are the one that actually control the world. They are the background characters, The city, the grass. Anything that is not important to a written story. She has the most domain, and yet is also the quietest God.

Now that that refresher is over. These people are still characters. And while a lot of their character development has been stripped from them due to their godly roles. They do have a couple of stories and or personalities.

Let's start with Clockwork.

Clockwork is the first God that really got codified. They are the pencil after all. The physical representation of making the world.

There is an old story where they first appeared, And where are many of their abilities came from. He was once just a simple dragon that was a weapon to the protagonist. A shapeshifter of forms. Most commonly objects. But that story faded. Leaving him as the only character that was actually drawn for the story.

It is then he took on more godly duties. Becoming the god of dragons, properly becoming the god of pencil. But his power of shape-shifting was still prominent. He became the literal pencil. His personality also probably stayed the same from when he was first created.

He's a little ass. Clockwork has always been snarky. People grown and moan about his work as a god. And while it is him that writes down I'm illustrates what happens to the characters. It is not of his whims. As it is actually the artist that does so. So he will often grumble about protagonists and characters decisions. Finding them not worthwhile.

And then we have Alvis.

Alvis is a character that actually has quite a bit of stories. They are disjointed but there. It is unclear what his first story was. All that is known is a his design was passed down. Which is where his duty as the archive is comes in.

He is often the god to be known to actually interact with the mortals. Every century or so he will calm down as a measly moral dragon. He will keep to himself for the most part. But he has interacted in many a story.

One of these stories is that he interacted with the Shadow wars. One of the first ones. Another one is that he became a teacher. Teaching the young and rowdy kids. There is another story where he simply sat around telling whatever story he could tell.

A constant figure around Alvis is actually the character known simply as Red. They are usually the one he is teaching or helping. They're usually always mortals. But for some reason always mean the word red. It is simply a blessing by the artist, and red is no God. Simply a constant.

Alvis is almost always a smooth talking. He is a calm figure, with a calm personality. Never once has he ever been aggressive. His morality is neutral. And you will always share both sides of the argument. No one is necessarily a villain in his eyes. Only mortals.

Now we get onto Eternata.

This being has no stories. This being has no design. She is eternal in every aspect. They are nothing and everything. But there is fractured glimpses of what she appears like.

Many times she is a serpentine like beast. Whether or not they have many arms or simply none depends. Her face is usually dragon like. But it could also be crocodilian. Or something alien. She usually stretches out eternally. She has scales upon her back that can shift into trees or any other matter. Usually when people try and illustrate eternity she is a moving landmass. Has she is the world.

Her personality is really unknown. She is simultaneously rude and kind. Neutral and perspective. One thing that stays constant though is that she does not speak. For she has a thousand words. And as she is neither the creation of the world, or the writing down of it. Sharing it is too much. As she encompasses everything. She's often described as staring onward with a cold neutralness. Like a statue of Time. Of place. Of stories. She's like into a building as if it was given eyes.

She is mysterious. And very rarely can she be illustrated without somebody saying it's wrong. The most agreed upon figure is that she is the landscape wrapped around itself. With only fragments of her being popping out. Whether it be a gnarled tree root that looks like a snake. Or a rolling mountain that looks like a being.

And those are the main three. The artist of course has no description or body in the world. But is of course me. So it's not that hard to have a reference. Any other gods do have proper personalities and illustrations. Although depending on how deep down into the world depends on their omnipotence. Gods that represent aspects are usually just below the creation gods. Gods that represent mystical objects below them. Elements are usually below those gods. And any other powerful entities are below the elements themselves.

And that's the God's personalities for you. Have fun.

[red-archivist]

i gotta focus; im shifting into theory mode

so categories right? the categories for the fears? entities? of the protocol verse

we have the oiar's system of organising things- their overly (deliberately?) confusing ring binder of lists of names, things, places, people, and numbers- example:

CAT1RBC5257-12052022-09012024; Reanimation (Partial) -/- Regret [Email]

However, that's the 'official' governmental system- what if there is a different way to sort the cases and the externals, similar to smirke's fourteen (well, 15, but you know)

What if they can be sorted by alchemical elements?

Now, truthfully, there's no one consistent alchemical chart of elements/signs/notations; E.J. Holmyard's Alchemy (1957) lists several consisting of:

Fire, Earth, Water, Air, Gold, Silver, Copper, Iron, Mercury, Lead, Tin, Suphur, Salt, Aqua Fortis, Sal Ammoniac, Sublimation, Sublimate of Mercury, Realgar, Vitriol, Retort, Common Salt

However, given what Colin said at the end of the latest episode, I think we can restrict our categories to the three elements that make up the tria prima, the three primes of life

That's Mercury (☿), Sulfur (🜍), and Salt (🜔) - Mind, Spirit, and Body

If you remember when the logo for the show was revealed, I took a look at this specific part:

We have body and mind aligned with chevrons- implying they are being protected, whereas spirit surrounds them and sticks outwards- is that something more aggressive/used as a weapon (the externals?)

I haven't sat down to sort the different cases we've heard under these headings yet, but it's something I'm going to keep in mind going forward. All this alchemy stuff is so cool, can't to see how it will be implemented further

[plutomarigold]

Hi I'm gonna ramble about the LSsmp×TMA Au for a bit and nobody can stop me

Dualityduo was trying to make Zam the new Archivist because they didn't particularly trust Parrot at the time. Ro though he was gonna interfere with their plans because of his condition to Leo so wanted him out of the picture.

The institute was formally know as the L.I.F.E Institute and was passed down Parrot's family but after an "incident" the Leviathan Institute. Parrot was still the one in charge in the public eye but that was just for show.

Zam found out about Leviathan's plans only like 2 months after becoming and archive assistant and was on board with it. In reality they (Ro) were lying to him and after finding out he wanted out. But you know because the Eye shenanigans he could so you know what he did? THAT'S RIGHT! He shoved a box cutter in his eyes.

Zam decided he didn't wat taking any chance of beeing found out so he run and decided to live in an abandoned hotel far from town. Little did he know that was a hotel The Lonely so he basically just became part of it. He takes care if the hotel so more people find it appealing and willing go in it. So he is basically just feeding The Lonely.

Sopke found Bacon's book (the idiot left it in a library by accident) once and he thought it was funny so he made poopies and peepies. They now live under the Institute and everyone (except Spoke on occasions) is to afraid to do anything about them. (Cube got the book back and brought it to Mid, but she told him to give it back to Bacon cause he wasn't actually doing anything bad with it right?)

Bacon and Jaron were just waking around at night in a secluded are and they got swallowed by the moon and that's how they found Planet.

I said in my last post that Red was trying to get a thing of sorts for Ash (one of Mid's books). What I didn't mention is that he is also looking for an artefact known as The Egg and he believes Mid has it. So when Ash told him he needed one of her books he thought he would kill two birds with one stone so he agreed.

Subz created the Eclipse Federation as a way of fighting the eye because he thought they were pretending for a ritual. Needles to say he got way more that he bargained for.

At first Subz goes to Cube and Rek to get some answers but when they tell him the only possible ritual for the eye is nowhere near soon he gets Vitalasy and decide to go look for Zam, an archive assistant that went missing.

Clown and Branzy live in a small cottage very far from any towns or people in general. Clown used to be a known killer, killing anyone without any remorse. After killing Branzy the guy just,,, came back??? So Clown kills him again and again and again but he KEEPS COMEING BACK. After a bit Clown confronts him and they get,,, close,,, Blah blah blah character development blah blah. Clown swears to only kill out of necessity and agrees to move far away with Branzy. But ofcourse sometimes The Slaughter needs to be feed and how do you kill when you live in the middle of nowhere? Exactly, the guy that can come back to life. Let's just say Clown don't like those days.

That's all I have for now!

[fangaddict]

Soup or Salad

Hi so this is the fic I've been promising for months,the ending is kinda rushed so sorry not sorry for that!however I do have more ideas I might put on a post just going over that!

“It's cold outside," Martin sighed, shivering slightly. "So is turning the ac all the way up to max coldness really necessary Michael?" He said, irritation apparent in his voice. Michael simply chuckled "no, but is anything I do really necessary? And besides, I like seeing you both squirm." Martin rolled his eyes and looked over to Jon. Jon was currently submerged in the soup both of them were currently sitting in. "Yeah! And on top of it all, you're making me miss work for this." Jon said grumpily. Looking away with his arms crossed, "it's really annoying."He added with a mumble.He tried and failed to hide his flushed cheeks from everyone.

Michael stared down Jon as it smiled a gleefully sadistic smile "Would you prefer I just cut to the main course then my delectable, juicy, morsel?" it laughed and leaned in closer before snapping its jaws mere inches from Jon's face "I'm starving" it snarled,its lips curled into a malicious grin. Jon jumped back, he felt his hands grew ice cold and his pulse quickened as all the color drained from his face. Why was he so scared? He knew Michael wouldn't hurt him… right? "V very funny Michael… " he grumbled as he stuttered a bit, taken aback by the sudden and violent shift to a tone so threatening. He straightened up a bit and frowned slightly, then he furrowed his brow further."You don't scare me Micheal,I've dealt with a lot worse than you! Now leave me alone I'm trying to stay warm in this lukewarm soup,since you insist on keeping it so damn cold in here." As per usual, Jon was turning to denial as a defense mechanism for when he was afraid. However his body language betrayed him as he was now a shivering blushing mess.

"MICHAEL! I told you to be nice towards Jon, you know this is his first time so behave yourself or it will be the last time mister!” Michael’s sharp grin crashed into a frown as it rolled its eyes. “Finnnnneeee, I'll be nice and gentle with your Archivist.” Martin sputtered, “I don't own Jon like a dog Michael.” Meanwhile Jon was trying to not become as red as a tomato, much like how he was trying to scrub the now permanent memory of Michael snarling at him. His attention was quickly drawn back to a ‘clink’ of Michael’s spoon hitting the bowl as it scooped Martin up.

Michael was literally buzzing with excitement causing Martin to chuckle,"Finally done teasing now?" Martin said, still chuckling slightly. Michael paused before nodding and tipped the man in its mouth. Martin tasted like sweet and mild chamomile tea,a flavor it learned to appreciate as time went on. It continued licking the man in its maw now purring softly. However Michael had enough of tasting and wanted to move on to it favorite part,swallowing the cute lil snack down.

Jon watched in fascination as Michael gently tipped Martin into its gaping maw. It purred in satisfaction as it swished martin carefully in its mouth ,tasting every bit of him. An audible gulp is heard as Jon watches Michael place it's index finger on the lump that Martin made and traced it all the way down to its stomach. Michael sighed contently, rubbing its stomach affectionately. Suddenly a wicked grin played its face as it looked over to Jon, " oh, would you look at that, it's an all you can eat buffet!" it scooped up Jon onto the spoon as well "and it looks like you're on the menu tonight~" it teased.

I quickly covered my face with my hand to hide my blush. Just because this played into a very specific comfort fantasy doesn't mean I have to confess that to anyone.this was suppose to be scary,in fact it was scary. So why wasn't it now? How did I get to this point in my life? I don't know-

“You’re rambling Archivist.” Jon pauses. “Please tell me I didn't say that out loud.” Michael hums,"maybe you did Archivist,what do you think?". Michael’s sly Cheshire smile widened as it scanned Jon up and down. Jon buried his face into his hands even more,"I'm so sorry about that." Laughter erupts from the distortion, "why are you apologizing Archivist? You haven't done anything wrong so calm down and let me take you in,alright jon?" It's tone softened when using his name. Jon blushed even more at Michael's sudden change into a more softened tone, he definitely wasn't expecting it.

Michael was thoroughly amused by the Archivist's reaction so far,it was particularly entertaining to have the man open up to Michael like this. Something it didn't expect when suggesting this to the pair of morsels,however this wasn't unwelcome to it. "Alright anyways heart to heart aside you should probably just get on with it. It's really fucking cold out here Michael." The distortion quirked its eyebrow,"getting eager are we Archivist?" The tiny man sighed in annoyance as Michael chuckled,"Look you can call me eager all you want,however if you don't get on with it I swear I will just hop in your mouth Michael! It's cold and I'm tired. Let me have this, you neon trainwreck."

A cacophony of distorted laughter came from Michael,"My my if I knew you would be so willing I would have asked you for this sooner,but alright my lovely meal I'll go right ahead." It gently placed the tiny Archivist in its mouth,carefully avoiding catching his skin on its sharp teeth. The subtle bitter flavor of dark chocolate trailed Michael’s tongue as it licked the Archivist. Something that didn't pair well with the soup,however it didn't particularly care about its prey tasting good. Just the feeling on their small forms sliding down was enough to satisfy it. Speaking of which, the distortion figured Martin was worrying about Jon by now so it made its tasting session short before sending him down to join the assistant. Trailing a long finger down with him. 

Jon was gently squished down as Michael swallowed him down,it was slightly claustrophobic for him now that he was actually in this scenario. Granted he didn't know what to expect considering he didn't believe such a thing would be possible till today. Luckily this part went rather quickly,too quickly it seemed, before long the man was dropped on something that was soft and… that can grunt? "Glad you could drop in love."

Martin chuckled as Jon shot up and scrambled off him."I'm so sorry about that martin.Are you alright?I didn't hurt you too badly right?" Martin shook his head fondly."Yes Jon,I'm fine. You're barely skin and bones so you didn't hurt me that badly." Jon scoffed playfully,"I'm offended, my own boyfriend bullying me? How rude!"The taller man pulled the other into a hug,"Well maybe if you ate more you wouldn't be a walking stick man."Jon yawned."Mmm, still unfair." The two doze off soon after.

The first thing Jon awoke to was water gently pouring on him. The water was warm on his back and his hair was soaked by the time the man had fully awakened. “Finally awake Archivist?” Michael gingerly patted his head,"mmh yep.Im awake unfortunately." It giggled, "Apologies dear,however lucky for you I believe you are clean so I can now turn the water off." Michael turned the water off and gently patted Jon dry.

"Michael you don't have to do this,I can do this myself."Michael hummed in dissatisfaction,"Archivist have you mayhaps considered people want to take care of you?" Jon groaned in response."I suppose…but that doesn't mean I have to like it." A gentle purr came from Michael,"Hmmm well maybe you should like it because you deserve nice things Archivist. Now shush so I can get your dear assistant out."Jon rolled his eyes but stayed quiet.

After a while both Jon and Martin were dried,clothed, and back to normal size.the three of them laid cuddled on a couch,"Soooo how was it?" Michael broke the peaceful quiet with its excitement. Martin paused to consider the question, "it was nice,I wouldn't mind doing it again honestly. How about you Jon?" The other man perked up,"hm? Oh yes well,it was enlightening." The third non gendered party smirked deviously,"oh so that's what we're calling it Archivist? Does that mean I did a good job then?"Jon shook his head."Not going to comment on that,but yes you did well and I wouldn't oppose doing it again.With advanced notice,I don't want to skip out on my work." The two men were gently pulled closer as Michael let a soft purr out."Of course, Archivist.I wouldn't dream of it!" It was lying.

[starswallowingsea]

This scene grabbed me by the throat and won’t let go

[thefuturewithoutus]

jon's grandmother passed away in 2012 and one year after that he was hired at the magnus institute. danny stoker passed away in 2013. it's not stated anywhere what year tim joined research (as far as i could find), but i'm going to assume 2014. so what i'm saying is both jon and tim joined the institute within a year of their loved ones passing away. for jon, i doubt it was as painful as tim losing danny (based on how he describes her he likely did mourn her but still had mixed feelings).

considering how he witnessed danny's death, tim must've felt so numb to life. and maybe he was good at hiding it, even though he still cracked jokes and made friendly conversation. but the smile would never truly reach his eyes.

and there's a possibility that jon saw tim's grief and empathized with it. he could understand him and his pain, even if he couldn't never muster up the courage to tell him he knew. so jon would let his guard down around him. he laughs or rolls his eyes with a smile at tim's jokes. he listens to tim ramble about fascinating subjects and gets just as engaged. they get into hijinks. tim's "finest cat burglar in all of bromley" incident happens and they're both giggling like kids everytime either of them calls back to that inside joke.

jon never pries into why tim comes to work with his eyes red-rimmed. he knows. he comforts him through gestures not everyone would catch, but tim does. they have two good years, then jon gets promoted to head archivist.

[boombox-fuckboy]

5 Underrated Audio Drama: Sci-Fi Horror Edition

Between reading The Murderbot Diaries and getting back into the lab lately, I've had sci-fi on the brain. Dubious experiments in particular. Sci-fi and horror are a delicious combination, especially for podcasts, with such gems as SAYER and Janus Decending. Alongside these must-listens (seriously, if you haven't heard these stick them on your list, too) there's a small but solid collection of lesser-known but still stunning works, all unique, creative, and satisfying. So, rambling intro over, here's 5 lesser-known but absolutely quality sci-fi horror podcasts. Apologies for the shorter personal segments this week, 1) they all explain themselves really well and I don't want to ruin the mystery, and 2) I am exausted.

Accurate as of 30th July 2021

Clockwork Bird

"Piece together the mystery of the disappearance of Robin Jaeger, a man with four metal limbs, in this sci-fi horror audio drama. Shelly Croft organises recordings taken from the computer of Dr Sophie Bennett, one of the lead scientists on the synthetic limbs project, and uncovers more than just scientific breakthroughs."

A queer sci-fi/horror/mystery! Well written and paced, really dives into the ethics and philosphy of the story as it tells it. Really enjoyed the worldbuilding elements and how each character's stories tie in to the overall podcast. I enjoy the writing, the music is very pretty, and small details that don't initially seem important come together very nicely. The summary above tells you most of what you need to know, and I certainly don't want to spoil it for you. The show is now complete, with 30 episodes of 10-25 minutes each.

Clockwork Bird is available on major podcasting platforms and Spotify. It has content warnings in each episode description, and transcripts of each episode on the website.

Red Valley

"No one at Overhead Industries wants to talk about defunct research station Red Valley, and account man Warren Godby is out of his depth. When he meets Gordon Porlock, a disgruntled archivist with a bag of tapes from the station’s last known occupant, they will begin a journey to the limits of experimental science, confront horror and trauma from the past, present and future, and try to remember the level select cheat from Sonic the Hedgehog 2. Take a seat in a battered 1998 Vauxhall Astra, turn on the tape deck, and find out what really happened at Red Valley."

Cryonics/cryogenics-themed sci-fi/horror/mystery/comedy! I will note there is some (very fun and somewhat graphic) gore, and that Red Valley has a bit more of a crude sense of humour from other audio dramas I've recommended so far. Cleanly made, with engaging pacing and little details which really add to the show's character. The two leads have voices that can be a little tricky to tell apart at first, but the acting is really solid. It has 6 episodes, 15 to 25 minutes each with a 40 minute finale, as well as a 4-episode miniseries of 10-15 minutes per minisode. They are on hiatus, but not for much longer.

Red Valley is available on major podcasting platforms and Spotify. It has content warnings and transcripts of each episode on the website. You can also follow their tumblr at @redvalleypod!

Tartarus

"An anxious astrobiologist, the terse manager of a secret Antarctic facility and an A.I keep humanity safe from the monsters they imprison."

Extremely new podcast which really makes the best of both sci-fi and horror genres. Because it's so new there isn't a lot of summary I can give beyond the above, but the characters are all really unique and engaging (I am especially fond of the AI), I enjoy all the voices and writing, the attention to detail for the soundwork, worldbuilding, and the overall sciencey vibe. Small heads-up as the intro part of E1 cuts between two scenes, which I only mention as I was tired at the time and slow to catch on. Very excited to see where this show is headed. It currently has 4 episodes of about 30-40 minutes each, and is on hiatus.

Tartarus is available on major podcasting platforms and Spotify. Content warnings and transcripts are linked in the description of each episode, as well as briefer content warnings at the start of each episode. You can also follow their tumblr at @tartaruspod!

Vile Trials

"Vile Trials is a story of a medical researcher who is forced to think about what it means to do good. In order for someone to make a difference, they need control and power. But at what point does their primary focus switch from doing good to securing control and power? What are they willing to sacrifice? We also explore the amazing world of medical research on fictional gut bacteria strains and give it a nice twist of sci-fi horror."

Work and personal recordings of a lab assistant to a brand new research project that is more than it initially seems. Some familiar tape effects in this one, but I quite enjoy the soundwork. Easy to follow, good acting and nice voices. It's a lot of fun to listen to it drop trivia on different biology topics, and outside of the obvious horror element, it captures the vibe of working in a lab that most shows don't get right. Also there's cute cat noises, which is always a plus. There are 9 episodes of 6-16 minutes each, completing season 1. It is as of yet unknown if there will be a second season.

Vile Trials is available on major podcasting platforms and Spotify. It has content warnings in the description of each episode, but does not seem to have transcripts available at this time. You can also follow their tumblr at @viletrialspodcast!

WOE.BEGONE

"Mike Walters discovers a mysterious and violent online game named WOE.BEGONE. What begins as an exploration of an alternate reality game with real-life consequences quickly becomes a search for the technology that makes the game possible. New soundtrack every episode."

This one gets more sci-fi as it goes! Simple soundwork with good music, a great voice, and very entertaining writing. It's gay, it's gorey, it's hilarious and absolutely wild. If you like time travel, alternate realities, conspiracies, endearing asshole leads, or were left wanting something more after listening to another unspecified ARG-themed podcast, it's very much worth a listen. It is still airing, with 32 episodes of usually around 25-30 minutes each.

WOE.BEGONE is available on major podcasting platforms and Spotify. Content warnings are not given, but transcripts of each episode are available on the website.

Want more good new content?

5 Criminally Underrated Sci-Fi Podcasts

5 Underrated Weird Fiction Podcasts

5 Criminally Underrated Supernatural Podcasts

5 Underrated Superpowered Podcasts

5 Underrated Comedy Podcasts

[rosileeduckie]

Itinerary

Statement of Jonathan Sims, regarding a statement.

You know the feeling when you get way too into reading something? Like, when you feel so involved that you start to feel like the story’s happening to you? Poor Jon feels this sometimes. Hopefully no one nefarious finds out about this... Starting Tickletober with Day 2: anticipation! Thanks @gigglymonster for posting this sfw list for this month :)

SFW. Potential warnings: swearing. The Magnus Archives tickle fic.

Word count: 3,567

~*~

Much as he appreciated having his own space to work without interruptions, sometimes Jon really did miss the old researching days when Tim would roll his chair over to Jon’s cupboard-sized working space for company or a chat, or when Sasha would lean on the door frame, pointedly in the way and watching until Jon finished the tea she’d brought and actually took a break from his work. When his current office, cobwebs in the corners and statement stacks growing ever higher, seemed too big or quiet, he could always find relief in leaving it and walking past the open door of the assistant workroom, where there was nearly always a conversation being held over the sound of clacking keyboard keys and flipping book pages. He wasn’t the kind of boss to pop in for a check-in or a friendly hello, so Jon rarely went through the ever-open door, but he found comfort in hearing voices other than his own, even if just for a little while. Maybe he’d even go so far as to wander into the break lounge, pretending to look for something that wasn’t the human interaction of anyone he happened to meet there. These days, he didn’t have to do so much sneaking seeking someone to talk to. Throughout the day, he’d often have coworkers dropping by his office to drop off statements or inquire about information from previous cases or ask if Jon wanted tea. He appreciated that, too—the time Melanie, Daisy, Basira, Sasha, Tim, and Martin would all take out of their days to come see him. The introvert in him was glad for some time to work alone, but the sentimental part of him wished the stretches of time between visits weren’t so long.

Jon had finished reading the statement nearly a quarter hour ago. But it still lay on his desk next to a tape recorder that collected only dead air. Some statements, the ones he could rationalize or that didn’t hit too close to home, didn’t rattle Jon so much. He was the head archivist of a library of reported paranormal experiences, after all; he should have been able to read through things without feeling actually scared. Some, though, needled their way into his brain and stuck there, haunted him. Left him with an empty, hollow feeling like the downswing after a high. If he was alone to dwell on them for too long, it started to really freak him out.

Blessedly, a knock came from the office door. Pulled from the perturbed state, Jon cleared his throat and turned off the recorder, which he hadn’t realized he’d left run. “Come in.” He swiveled his chair around and brightened considerably when he saw who opened the door. “Hello, Martin.”

“S-sorry if I’m interrupting,” Martin said as he entered, seeing the usual recording supplies on Jon’s desk. “Just, um, found this and thought you’d— hi.”

Jon couldn’t help the twitch in his lips at Martin’s rambling cutting off with so timid a greeting. Even after having been in a relationship for nearly two years now, there was still a giddiness underlying the professionalism they maintained in the office. Not that anyone else did. When Jon and Martin had told their coworkers about their new romance, they became quite the targets of teasing from their friends, who were happy to see them “finally” get together. Jon could put up with teasing at work, especially when it made Martin go so adorably red, but mostly because, he knew, at the end of the day, it would be him and Martin, happy.

Martin returned the small smile with a rosier one of his own, then cleared his throat and held out his hand, drawing Jon’s eyes to the clipped-together bunch of papers Martin had brought with him. “Just found this statement I’d thought you’d want to see.”

“Oh?” said Jon, taking the pile and glancing at the information filled out at the top—the usual stuff, the statement giver’s name, address, and succinct summary of their experience to categorize the pages they’d written out—and then looking back to Martin. “Pertaining to a more imminent cosmic horror, or just interesting?” he asked, trying to guess why it required his immediate attention more than any other statement. “Funny?”

“You might get a chuckle from it,” Martin nodded.

“Ah. Okay. Thank you, Martin. I’ll—” Jon reached to set aside the earlier statement to be refiled and placed the newly delivered one before him, “I’ll add it to the queue.”

Martin nodded again, quickly adding, “If you don’t get to it today, you know, or— it’s fine.”

Jon’s eyebrows furrowed, and he quietly enjoyed the flush he could see coloring Martin’s ears. “You didn’t slip me some poetry hoping for a review or something, did you?”

“What?” Martin said with a startled chuckle. “No. It’s just the statement.”

“Right. Well, thank you,” Jon said, amusement coloring his tone. “Was there anything else?”

Pursing his lips thoughtfully, Martin shook his head. “I’ll let you get back to it. See you for lunch.”

“Alright.” Jon turned his chair back toward his desk, waiting to hear the sound of an exeunt. Instead, he heard footsteps approaching, and, when he turned his head to ask if there actually was something Martin had forgotten, he was met with a quick kiss to the forehead. Jon had seen the flash of Martin’s smile, heard it in his farewell as he left the office, and that smile and the tenderness of that kiss hung in the forefront of Jon’s mind more stubbornly than any statement could. It was moments like that when he was actually glad to have his own office, as he could practically hear Tim cooing about how adorable a pair they were and how he needed a camera to capture the cryptid that was Jon smiling, especially so shyly. In solitude, Jon could hide his smile as poorly behind his hand as he liked.

He did take a breath and try to scrub the smile from his face with his hand so he could start the statement, not wanting to sound like a lovestruck gay schoolboy when reading about horror, no matter how absurd and funny the horror was that awaited him. He was a serious archivist, after all.

“Right then,” Jon said, grabbing a new replacement tape and starting the recorder wheels spinning.

~*~

Statement of Jason Thisman, regarding his partner, and the thing that took over his partner’s body. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, the archivist.

“Recently, I’ve come to really worry about my partner. Not the kind of worry that would prompt me to seek help from a hospital or couple’s counselor, but… well. You can probably infer what kind of worry, just from the fact that the place I chose to come for help was here. Not that I’m sure you guys here can help, if that’s the thing you do here. I heard of the archives from a friend, and I guess I just want to get what happened off my chest without being looked at like I’ve lost my marbles. Even if there’s no help for me, at least it will be there to help someone else. Warn them, or whatever.

My partner and I have been together for almost two years now and living together for a year of that. We have a dog and a cat, we work day jobs neither of us want, we get takeaway too often, and we go for drinks with friends on weekends. All things considered, our home life has been pretty normal. Domestic, certainly. Maybe even boring. But I don’t mind. It’s nice, to have something to come back to that you can be certain will always be there, will always make you feel a special kind of safe. At least, I was naïve enough to believe it would always be.

Don’t misunderstand me—it’s like I said, my partner and I don’t need the kind of help a couple’s counselor could provide; and I know that, because we both have individual and couple’s therapy—the ‘always’ didn’t start to show cracks because of discontent or infidelity. In fact, there weren’t any cracks. It was sudden. Like the floor under me had given way with a splintering crack like thunder, and I suddenly had no idea who I was committed to.

When it happened, when the rug was pulled, it was a normal night, just last Thursday. We’d taken the tram home, and I started making dinner while my partner took the dog for a walk. I remember he was humming…

I remember he was humming when he left, because, when he got back, I had just put dinner in the oven when I heard the front door open, then close, then… nothing. Looking back, maybe I could say something profound, that it was in that silence that I could hear when everything changed. But that wouldn’t be true. Really, I couldn’t hear anything at all.

And then the dog ran in, all happy barking and nails clattering on the floor. I bent down to pet her, and, when I looked up, my partner was standing in the kitchen doorway. For a moment, I was relieved. I’d overreacted, I was tired from a long day, I was stressed from work, whatever—but everything was fine, everything was normal. I smiled, told him, “I hope you’re not too hungry, because we’ve got a bit of a wait for dinner.”

And he said, “Suppose I’ll have to find something to snack on in the meantime.” Normally, I would have scolded him for spoiling his appetite, but the way he said it, it didn’t sound like him. There was gravel in his voice I’d never heard, and, when I looked at him, his eyes had this bright, hungry light in them. All at once, I didn’t recognize the man who stood in front of me. His fingers had grown sharp and his hands shook, and it was like his aura was bursting out of him, drenching the kitchen tile in sinister energy.

I was scared. I didn’t know what else to do. I’d thought he was joking, but I’d never seen him look that way. So I— I ran. Deeper into the flat, as fast as I could, and faster when I heard him chasing after me. He slammed into the door seconds after I’d ducked into the bedroom and locked myself inside. I knew I had precious few moments to try and escape while he got the key from atop the door frame and unlocked the door, and I was frustratingly frozen. I hadn’t made a dash for the front exit, and now I was cornered. I could have tried hiding in the closet or under the bed, but I had no hope of going undiscovered. Maybe the window. I was far from athletically inclined, but perhaps I could have shimmied down to the ground using a tree or drainpipe, anything that could offer enough hand- and footholds to keep me from sprain my ankles in a rough descent.

My planning brain betrayed me in eating up all my head start time, and I was stuck even further as arms captured me around the waist, growling breath hot against my ear. I was free for a moment as I sailed through the air, only to be pinned on my back as I fell onto the bed. The thing that wore my partner’s face had rendered my legs and arms trapped and useless with how he straddled my thighs and pinned my wrists in one hand above my head. Nothing made me feel so helpless, though, as the ravenous gaze he fixed upon my face. I could feel my blood pounding, from my heart under the clawed hand he held suspended above my ribs, through my neck and quickening my pulse when his eyes flicked to that vulnerable space, into my cheeks where heat bloomed as he pressed a suddenly tender kiss to my forehead before rearing back. He lunged, dug in with teeth and claws, and I screamed.

The shaking of my head deterred neither his nibbling mouth nor bearded chin from the sensitive skin beneath my jaw, and his fingers dug mercilessly between my ribs on the left side. And the right side, when his other hand joined the fray. I had thought he’d meant to kill me swiftly by going for such vital spots so fast, but he evidently intended to use our supper’s lengthy cook time to the fullest. He pushed my shirt up and over my heaving chest, exposing my stomach and still tingling ribcage to his hungry gaze. I hadn’t caught my breath before he’d pounced again, gnawing delicately along my lowest ribs and scribbling his claws, unbearably featherlight, over my hips. The sensations tore through my body as though his jaws and talons were ripping me to shreds, making me howl and writhe and fight until I had no strength to do anything but laugh. I’d been skin and bones before he’d begun his meal, and, afterward, I was all nerves and residual giggles. More than residual when I threatened to enjoy supper on my own, since he’d already stuffed himself, and he’d so eloquently rebutted by introducing his teeth to my hips. That final attack had left me too hoarse and happy to argue any further, so I’d given in with a nod.

After that, the night carried on. The days since have been normal again, with. I worry for my partner, though. Will this monster overtake his body once again? When? And I worry for me. I can feel this isn’t over. Whatever overtook him has had a taste of me, and I don’t think it will be satisfied with just one course of a meal.”

~*~

Jon was happy he had his own office. If he’d had to have people looking over his shoulder as he recorded what was clearly a prank statement, waiting for him to realize as much and ready to tease him about it afterward, he probably would have sunk through his chair and through the floor in embarrassment. Well. He already sort of was sunk into his chair in mortification, but the fact that no one was around to witness it was a relief.

With statements actually dealing with the possible paranormal, Jon often got wrapped up, invested, like he was experiencing the statement firsthand. That wasn’t the case here. He didn’t feel claws on his torso or fangs on his neck. He did feel his ribs tingling in anticipation of such sensations. Part of him was glad that he hadn’t felt those things the way statements usually made him feel things, since he knew the noise he’d make would only garner more teasing. The other part was irritated knowing that he soon would feel all those sensations, but that he’d have to wait for them. Damn, Martin.

It took nearly a quarter of an hour for Jon to convince his face to cool down, flustered beyond belief had the unorthodox love note his partner had tricked him into reading. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving his office to confront him about it, knowing that Martin would be all pleased hums and sunny grins about it. But then, the thought of not seeing that grin for the rest of the day, if he could even manage to hunker down away from anyone else for that long, was also sort of killing him. Maybe he could be quick, have a chat with Martin and be back before anyone saw the state the statement had left Jon in, indignant and stupidly eager for the emergence of a tickle monster after dinner.

Holding the affronting statement gingerly between his fingers as though it could bite him, Jon ducked his head and hastened from the office and down the hall. The workroom’s door was open, and, when he stepped through, Jon was met with expectant gazes and stifled smiles, the most prominent one upon the freckled cheeks of his villainous partner.

“Alright, boss?” said Tim, elbowing Sasha in the side when she started snickering beside him.

Jon shot both of them a glare in answer and beelined toward Martin, holding the statement out to him. Calmly, he inquired, “What the fuck is the meaning of this?” He remained calm even as his ears went hot at the sound of poorly hidden laughter from different desks.

“Sounds like he didn’t like it, then,” said Basira, shaking her head with a stage whisper. “Poor taste; I thought it was good.”

“At least, it couldn’t have been technically bad,” Daisy replied. “It did have four editors.”

Tim agreed, “Very good editors, at that.”

During the little sidebar, Jon took slower breaths. It had just been a joke, and only Martin—who was still smiling at him with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes—could tease him for the contents of the fake statement, where the others were surely only going to tease him for having believed it was real at all. His heart took a brief sprint at the thought of his friends and coworkers teasing him the way Martin would, by prodding, figuratively and literally, at the soft spots in his armor to prompt a smile or win an argument, and to take note of how, flustered as it made him, Jon didn’t mind it. “Yes, well,” said the archivist, snatching his hand back the moment Martin relieved him of the statement. “A very good prank.” He cleared his throat in what he hoped sounded like a scoff. “Might have slipped by that you wasted my time with a fake statement if you hadn’t used an anagram of my name in the header.”

Melanie looked up from her laptop, eyebrows raised and mouth elevated into a smirk. “If you caught it at the header, why’d you read the whole thing?”

Jon whipped his head to glare at her and reply, but he found his mouth open uselessly with no good answer. He’d read it because he hadn’t noticed that the statement was addressed to him until he’d already finished it, and, by the time he caught on, he’d wanted to finish it. Not compelled, just wanted. “It was very unprofessional. Don’t do it again,” said Jon with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in an excuse to not meet anyone else’s eyes. “I think I’ll make some tea.”

The glimmer of hope that was an escape was snatched away—by Martin, no less—when he stood. “I’ll do it, Jon. As an apology for—” He sidled past Jon, brushing a hand casually but precariously along the back of his ribs along the way. “—wasting your time.” Jon tried not to stiffen or melt when Martin touched him, crossing his arms because he had no idea what else to do with them as Martin left the workroom, glancing over his shoulder with a smile. Jon was about to follow, only to be stopped by yet another question.

“Boss? Did Martin have it right in the statement?” Tim asked, grinning crookedly as he leaned back in his seat, fingers steepled. “Ribs is the worst spot? Thought it was always your armpits that got you to ‘screaming’ territory.”

Melanie shook her head. “And Sasha told me stomach.”

Jon wished he had enough eyes to glare at everyone in the room.

“Perhaps,” suggested Sasha brightly, “we need to record a collaborative statement to get our information straight.”

“You should feel lucky!” Daisy called as Jon power-walked out of the room fast enough to leave a cartoon dust cloud in his wake. “We agreed a statement tickling you stupid wasn’t too mean. They shot down my idea of trapping you in a haunted dunk tank!”

Martin already had the kettle on by the time Jon cornered him in the lounge, wrapping his arms around Martin’s waist and burying his face in the taller man’s shirt. He felt the soft rumble of Martin’s chuckle through his back.

“What kind of tea, darling?” Martin asked.

Jon lifted his head and stood on his toes to hook his chin over Martin’s shoulder. “I’m going to end you.”

“Mm-hm,” replied Martin, unperturbed as he selected a box at random from the communal tea/drinks cupboard and setting it by the stove.

“Seriously,” Jon said, remarkably amiable to Martin turning around and returning the squeeze. Even as Martin leaned in to brush the tip of his nose against Jon’s affectionately, Jon threatened, “Pin you to the bed and feather your ears until your head is spinning.”

Martin only smiled, pressing a kiss to Jon’s forehead. “Sounds lovely. After the plans we already have for tonight, though, alright?”

“We?”

“You read the itinerary,” Martin grinned. “Any notes?”

Feeling his face catch fire again and a stubborn smile begin to grow in the wake of Martin continuing to plant kissing on his forehead, Jon let his head fall, burying it in Martin’s chest this time. He shook his head.

“Perfect. Then, if you still feel the need for revenge after that, if you feel anything but happy and content, my ears are all yours.”

“Good,” Jon replied, tempted to spend the rest of the afternoon right there against Martin’s chest until evening could come and he could be pinned beneath Martin’s hands and monstrously beautiful smile.