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roipecheur · 1 year

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I'd love your thoughts on Frank chaining Matt to a rooftop and trying to get him to kill 👀

This actually inspired me to read the 2000 Punisher run where Frank does this because I wanted to compare it to the NMCU scene. I’d put off reading this run before because I don’t like Garth Ennis, and I also really don’t like the art style. But it turns out it’s only 11 issues long, so I went ahead and got through it in one sitting.

Garth Ennis, from the little of his stuff I’ve been able to get through, writes Frank like an angrier version of the Terminator, and treats the existence of superheroes and the rest of the wider Marvel universe like a bug he’s trying to push away with a very long stick. NMCU Frank is a more complex and interesting character in terms of actually having a background and motivations that make sense. The current Punisher run, which I have many issues with, does a better job at this than Garth fucking Ennis, so it ain’t saying much.

Also, the 2000 Punisher run is of course a Frank POV story, and the Netflix Daredevil show is of course a Matt POV story. So, to start with 616 Frank in the 2000 Punisher run...

(Cut for comic panels)

This is Vietnam vet Frank circa the year 2000--he explicitly mentions Vietnam in this run. Even if he was 25 when the Vietnam war ended in 1975, he’d be 50 here. Yeah, yeah, comics time doesn’t work the same way as real life time, but he’s drawn with some lines and wrinkles on his face. He’s meant to be older and he’s been doing the vigilante thing for awhile.

This panel is also interesting to me because calling Daredevil “the guardian angel that follows him (Matt) everywhere” implies that he doesn’t know who Daredevil is--I’ll come back to this later.

In contrast to NMCU Frank, 616 Frank has a long history with Daredevil. He knows Daredevil is going to attack him and plans accordingly.

"Fap" lol what was with this sound effect circa 2000.

Frank tells Matt to hit him baby one more time and lets Matt win the first round. This isn't difficult, Frank reflects, implying that Matt is the better fighter and he's a challenge (or impossible) for Frank to defeat hand-to-hand.

But Frank doesn't need to--he's rigged speakers to play an ultrasonic dog whistle, which wreaks havoc on Matt’s ears. Frank uses this opportunity to knock Matt out.

So... we’re going to assume here that Frank doesn’t know who Daredevil is, but he knows enough about what Daredevil can do to incapacitate him.

Then, of course, Matt wakes up chained to the roof and--ok. Just look at the difference between Netflix DD and whatever the fuck 616 Frank was doing

Chains around Daredevil's chest and arms to hold him in place. Unhinged behavior, but sound restraining technique, versus

Frank. My man. Where did you learn this. Why are you forcing him to kneel. Why are the chains 1) around his neck, 2) wrapped lovingly across his chest, 3) not only between his legs but 4) framing his crotch. "What is this" indeed.

The rituals...they are intricate...

So, now that Frank has forced Daredevil to participate in his bondage fantasy, he decides to 'teach him a lesson' by giving him a choice. Daredevil is "not the enemy" and "doesn't deserve to be destroyed", but Frank's getting sick of him interfering. The gun he's taped to Daredevil's hand has one bullet in the chamber, and Frank's wearing Kevlar. Either Daredevil shoots him in the head, or Frank is going to shoot and kill someone else.

(Frank heard the term “predicament bondage” once and completely misunderstood the assignment.)

Again, 616 Frank has been a vigilante for years, if not decades, and has tangled with Daredevil plenty of times before--enough to know his speeches by heart. Frank’s internal monologue also says he can’t beat Daredevil hand-to-hand. As far as Frank’s concerned, every time Daredevil failed to kill him was a time that Daredevil was choosing Frank’s life over whoever Frank was going to shoot next--and they both know Frank will inevitably kill someone else. Frank, on the other hand, shoots Dino and thereby chooses to save whoever that guy might have killed or hurt next. By taping the gun to Matt’s hand, he’s just making the choice more obvious--showing Matt that his decision not to kill people is a choice with consequences, just like Frank’s decision to kill people is.

616 Frank planned and carried this out for Daredevil specifically. We don’t get internal monologue bubbles for NMCU Frank, but I don’t think he could have possibly planned this in the same way. He did have a rooftop and chains ready, but I don’t think they were for Matt. One, this is early days Frank who’d just lost his family, was still trying to kill everyone directly involved in their deaths, and doesn’t even have a skull on his chest yet. Two, this was only his second meeting with Daredevil, the first being when he’d shot Daredevil in the head the night before--he couldn’t have predicted that Daredevil would be there. Three, Frank was there for Grotto and was willing to take on a small battalion of cops all on his lonesome to get to his target. I think Daredevil must have surprised him. So, they fight, and the residual effects of the headshot cause some ringing in Matt’s ears. Frank can’t know what’s going on, but he takes advantage and knocks Matt out. After that, I can only imagine he’s staring down at this guy dressed in a fucking devil suit with the cops closing in and thinking, “Babygirl you might be even more deranged than me. I must study you.” Scooping him up and saving him from the cops must have been an impulse decision. Leaving Daredevil to get arrested certainly would have been easier and stopped him from interfering with Frank’s one-man war.

In both 616 and NMCU, Frank at least ostensibly doesn’t know who Daredevil is, and he doesn’t take off Daredevil’s mask while he’s unconscious to find out. Also in both versions, Frank is trying to kill someone Matt’s been defending. In 616, this is a faceless mobster named Dino--you never even see him, just Frank pulling the trigger. In NMCU, it’s Grotto, someone we’ve seen Matt and co. try very hard to keep safe from the trigger-happy maniac who clearly wants his head on a pike.

And, in both versions, Frank chains Daredevil up, tapes a gun to his hand, and makes him choose between killing Frank and letting Frank kill someone else. Here’s where the differences get interesting. 616 Matt actually pulls the trigger, but there’s no firing pin. 616 Frank never intended to possibly die--he just wanted to drive the message home. We don’t have 616 Matt’s internal monologue, so we can’t know for sure what he was thinking here. If my quick Googling gave me the correct answer, killing someone to stop them from killing you or someone else is permissible in Catholicism, which otherwise lists murder as a cardinal sin. Given such a clear-cut decision, Matt could have used that reasoning to justify pulling the trigger. Or given his general aversion to killing, he might have been trying to shoot Frank in a way that would hurt him but would not actually end his life--despite Frank telling him earlier that killing him was the only option. Either way, this is a decision Matt makes while Frank takes someone out with a rifle at a distance. It’s a pretty removed act of violence, as far as these things go.

Meanwhile, NMCU Matt has Grotto right in his face, begging him to shoot Frank before Frank kills him. In this version, Matt’s gun fires when he pulls the trigger, but he doesn’t point it at Frank--he uses it to free himself from the chains Frank has him tied up in. Matt gambles with Grotto’s life and loses. Compared to 616 Matt, it’s possible he didn’t try to shoot Frank because he hadn’t been dealing with him for as long--he doesn’t have years’ worth of failing to save people from Frank weighing on his conscience. Or, Matt himself just hasn’t been a vigilante for long enough to know his own limitations and thought he could save Grotto without shooting Frank. Or, he just couldn’t bring himself to kill--which tbh I think is more in line with Matt’s character in general in most universes where he isn’t evil. And NMCU Frank, unlike 616 Frank, gave Daredevil a perfectly functional gun. This is a Frank whose family has just died and is doing all kinds of reckless, crazy shit to avenge them. I think his MO in Daredevil season 2 is that he’s going to kill everyone who had a hand in his family’s deaths or die trying, and this falls under “die trying”.

One last thing 616 Frank and NMCU Frank have in common: they’re both so goddamn weird about Daredevil. NMCU Frank was probably not planning on surviving his one-man war against the gangs of New York and was definitely suicidal, but he still had things to do and people to kill when he gave Daredevil the chance to shoot him. Like, he had possibly decided this guy was worthy of killing him in some fucked-up way--he put everything on hold to give Daredevil a free shot. 616 Frank, after Daredevil tries to shoot him and can’t because of the missing firing pin, says, “Leave the killing to me.” He’s basically saying that he respects Daredevil’s choice not to kill and even in this fucked-up scenario, Frank isn’t actually going to put him in that position. Coming from 616 Frank, especially the way Garth fucking Ennis writes Frank, it’s almost sweet.

Thanks for this ask--I had fun with it! As a bonus, here’s some choice pages showing the NYC skyline as drawn in the year 2000 💀💀💀

NMCU Frank: Yeah I’m a veteran of the War in Afghanistan and the Iraq War that all happened because of 9/11

616 Frank: What’s 9/11?

#asks #punisher #daredevil #frank castle #matt murdock #fratt #hope u enjoy this mystery person it took me forever to put together in a coherent fahion lol

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wispisstillverybored67 · 6 days

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Stainless Blooms

Kagami yo kagami kotaechatte Who's the best? I'm the best! Oh yeah Namami no mama ikeru toko made To the next, to the ichiban ue

"Good Morning, Amazake."

"Mornin', Fluff-chan." Exchanges like these are common in these days.

Would you believe me if I tell you that I'm living in a library? It’s technically in the basement, but yeah. It's a town... populated entirely by food. They aren't actually food, but they're all so convinced that they are. The lady I'm stayin' with is named Marshmallow Fluff, MaFlu for short for some. Her hair looks just like her namesake, which she said was what happened the year she came here. But as I investigated last night, it sure as hell doesn't have the exact texture of marshmallow paste. I thought she would be someone with a good head on her shoulders, but no. She's just as delusional as the others...!! It certainly grew FAST. And as I stayed, I learned about the insane yet intricate rituals the people do, so damn deep in their delusions. It was neck-length when I arrived, and as I found out, it was because of the fact that a neighbor, Candy, is wholly addicted to, well, candy and sweets. So, in exchange for her life (a cannibal??? wow~), whenever her hair reaches past the floor, she'll cut it off and give it to her. Maybe I'll try some later. I mean, probably just hair, doesn't taste like marshmallow. Certainly enough to warrant a teenager that apparently ate whoever thought of themself as a sweet in this town to enjoy all the same, so that's that.

I'm just here for some field research. When I displayed an interest in this world, Wild drilled me on the context based on the game she played. Then, she demanded I slip into a "cycle" without many troubles, whatever that means. I've kept my 5 don'ts that've served me well, and I think that it's due time for some in-depth field research. Let's go over it to start... Fluff-chan's currently getting ready for some event with the other residents.

#1: Don't make assumptions about them on the first day.

This should be obvious. This helps make sure there aren't any unneeded fights right off the bat, nor no sour feelings onward. Because you know how hard it is to work with someone that you hate, or hates you. As I figured out in earlier, there's greater risk of throwing the task away if someone hates someone. And, just in case someone's hatred is actually beneficial to me, I can just drug them with an FFoid. Here's to hoping the Law is on MY side that time...!

It's November, but as I've seen, the weather is somehow perfect every time. It had rain, and snow from what I heard from my host. When I first arrived, I think they drugged my food. Wild told me about that. Of course, I gave my eyes a re-do to keep up a certain level of polish that would come IF I was able to be effected by it.

In any case, I'll keep the people at arms length as I compile everything about them. Depending on her mood, she might ask me to go.

#2: Don't make assumptions about them on the first day.

This is also self-explanatory. In this line of work, you have to first learn everything about your host, until you springboard off of that to the others. At least one thing remains for sure: MaFlu just wants to live quietly. She works at a library in the Sweets District, and no one has the balls to ignore her if she shushes them. I guess she really is more reasonable compared to the others, but... Why would a perfectly reasonable person live life thinking you're food? Makes no sense to me... Ah, but I guess I'll figure out that secret later, hmm?! This is gonna be good! Hahaha, yeah! I'll squeeze the secrets out! Today, Fluff-chan... TOMORROW THE WORLD!!!

I can just interact with the outside world through the library just fine. It's surprisingly a little busy. But typically, I just observe from a distance. There's one resident that I haven't seen, though. She's been talked about occasionally, and her name is apparently Chili. Wonder what's her deal? I ought to investigate that later on. And she handles it with her top-notch maturity. Ya don't hear that often. I'm sure when she hears my research plans, she'll be fine with it. It's been a work week, so I think I'll be fine now. Marshmallow Fluff just wants to live a quiet life.

#3: Don't hurt anyone unprovoked.

Partially spring-boarding off the first one, but this should be obvious as well. Bitterness never helped anyone, and judging from what Wild told me, the people are surprisingly bitter, aha~ They might do anything to be able to spin me as the one in the wrong, so just to be safe, IF needed, we take them to the woods, knock them down for an opening for another attack, and call all my underlings to beat the shit out of them, and wipe their mind of most of the event. ...Hypothetically, of course. Honestly, I have nothing else to say about this. It's a boring rule, but a practical one.

"Hey, Ms. Amazake... I'm sorry for not telling you this sooner, but today is the anniversary of Food Town's founding, and we'll all be celebrating later tonight at the Last Supper over at the Fruits District. Do you want to come along also?"

Oho? A party? That would make a damn good opportunity for field research.

#4: Don't trust them if they don't know your name.

I think this speaks for itself. It's just common knowledge. When cutting deals with others, it's for the best. They don't know the first thing about you, what makes you think you can trust them on handling potentially dangerous work? Of course, a fake name should suffice if needed, but I do hate lying, so let's see.

For a party, you'll be mingling with others, so your name would be tossed around a lot. But the "Last Supper"... I never heard of something like that. Was there even a restaurant with that name before? How odd. ANYWAYS... Think of all the deals you could cut with others! Mingling with such nice, easygoing, pliable people... Ain't it fun? To fantasize about the possibilities? No? Oh, YOU'LL understand soon enough... I can collect aaaaaannnnyyyyything I want on them, and they can't do shit about it! Let's hope to God they aren't boring.

Fluff-chan is chatty despite appearances, so most know my name already.

#5: Don't abandon your friends. No matter what.

I'm alone, so...

"Yeah sure, why not." I finally responded. A good joint requires 3 things: Men, meat, and myself. I've seen men, nothing that would catch my eye, but men are men, and I'll take it. It's a restaurant, so it would realistically have meat, but we'll see for sure. I'm going, so that's all 3 on the list, it's a good joint.

She seemed relieved a little when I said that. Heading back to her room, she came back with a bow. It matches the one she wears, but the white stripe is red. I am NOT gonna wear that up, but...

I yanked it from her hands, and wore it like a tie. Shrugging, she then picked up her telephone.

"Hey, Passion Fruit. I'll be bringing another guest with me, so plan accordingly... Yes, thank you. Goodbye."

Wait... Who the hell is Passion Fruit?! Another variable... but this won't be a fatal error. Just a variable.

#wisp rambles #wisp writes #dream of gluttony #silver steelhead #I spent a week in food town so you don't have to #dream of gluttony oc #do'g marshmallow fluff #wisp's children #:p

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calleo-bricriu · 2 years

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Breaking a Taglock.

(( This came after a short thread on Twitter in which a Grindelwald player took a taglock from @awizardmademedoit and, because I can, I'm putting the end of it here as well. ))

At nearly the same moment Aldig arrived, Calleo appeared in the same insignificant area; without a spoken word or outward indication to or from Aldig, the intricately wrapped pair of labradorite above the larger chrome diopside he held unraveled and fell to nothing.

"If this were reversed, Aldig, you'd never let me hear the end of it," Calleo spoke casually as the same, old, and often used athame appeared and seemingly got to work 'writing' in the air between them as Calleo largely ignored it in favour of clearing the area of any residual magic that might have been tagging along.

"Mah h'khos'hev s'hehu?" Aldig snapped in return. (What does he think he is?)

"M'torzyf," Calleo's idle shrug made a clear path to the tone in which he said the word. "You can't expect rational thought patterns from those, especially the ones with an ego behind it.

(A lunatic)

A derisive sound as Aldig fell into the same pattern of cleansing the area of anything the taglock might have tracked. Eventually, satisfied that the Wizard had stopped going over it excessively, Aldig grabbed Calleo's arm and disapparated, leaving any potential trail from the blood that had been taken a dead end.

"Atah y'khol lo khashaveta sh'zeh ya'avvd." (He can't have thought that would work)

"I wouldn't bet on that, Aldig; though he'll find out what he's got now is functionally useless.” The contract break had not only fundamentally changed what's present versus what he took and the rework would be entirely different on the magical level.

Now that they were back indoors, Aldig stretched out in a much too large (for a Goblin at any rate) chair and examined his claws, "Mm, well, then let's just hope neither of us is interesting enough for him to take a second swing."

"You realise if you'd stayed off the continent like I've been telling you to for the past four years, he wouldn't have gotten near enough to you at all, right?" That was, perhaps, a dangerous thing to say but, spoken or unspoken, it's likely Aldig would have heard it eventually. While he couldn't necessarily be angry or even annoyed by the statement he could channel that energy into reworking the contract into something heavier on the protection feedback loops around potential taglocks--blood, hair, skin, bone, anything from a person that could be used to find them physically or magically--and keep it a never ending quagmire of confusion and misdirections to dead ends or simply nothing at all.

"Yeah, yeah," dismissive as ever, though that wasn't at all unusual for the Goblin, "overall same as before with the mixture of magics and blood that will only share the similarity with what he took with the fact that it's blood, then?"

"More or less. Get over here, this can't be completed with you on the other side of the room lounging in that old armchair, you know."

"It's a good thing I am over here,” Aldig had barely taken two steps toward Calleo as he spoke, “now that I can see what the hell it is you're doing; you can't possibly, in any reality, believe that offensively tiny amount of blood is going to do anything in terms of upping the defensive aspects of the contract." He moved swiftly, catching Calleo off guard as their previous levels of communication were temporarily cut while the ritual was redone. A sharp, clawed hand snatched Calleo's forearm, dragging it over the small area set up for the ritual.

"This isn't one of your silly little bonds to the people you're sleeping with, nobody's continued life is on the line with those watered down human rituals. Eyn-u mishet'a meshiym basaki-im."

Aldig didn't leave Calleo with the time to even think of asking what he meant by 'we don't use knives' as four much-sharper-than-he-recalled Goblin claws ever being claws sliced vertically from the middle of his forearm down into the palm of his hand and the pointed look Aldig gave Calleo's now bloodied hand and arm made it clear he was expected to reciprocate the gesture.

While Calleo kept his nails long and sharp, they certainly weren't claws! He was also well aware that there was no modification that would be accepted here; that often happened when the lines of Human ritual magic and the Goblin equivalent crossed. The intent was the same but the magical mechanics behind it had vastly different end results, and Aldig's statement left no room for argument or trying to wriggle in little scraps of Human magic at this point.

It'd be awkward if a nail snapped off--a fleeting thought but, in the end, Calleo was still Calleo.

Thankfully, that didn't happen despite the fact that Calleo had to use significantly more pressure to cause the same depth and length cut; based on what he could feel under his nails and what he noticed missing from his own arm it wasn't just blood involved here.

By this point, Aldig had fully taken over the spell-work involved; these contracts, despite the passive-aggressive wording earlier, were markedly different from what human blood magic required for what was (in comparison) a much weaker, more easily broken bond. The Human version only took one person to break it, and it was easily done even with a fleeting desire to do so. These–were not.They did not and could not break without exceptionally clear and matched intent from those involved. Possession is eleven points in the law, and they say there are but twelve, after all. Tying the ritual itself off to the original written contract only served to keep it hardened where magical and personal security were concerned.

Further consent had long since been rendered unnecessary by the existing written contract so, for the next twenty or so minutes Calleo simply followed unspoken instructions. In the end, the set of copper wrapped labradorite and chrome diopside re-formed, soaking up both the magic surrounding it and the blood required to pull it back together.

#v: fbawtft #hp rp #stories #hp oc

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pitviperofdoom · 3 years

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Me: I’ve got some time and motivation on my hands! Maybe I should work on one of my immediate projects, like putting the finishing touches on my RQBB piece, or making some headway on my TMA BB piece, or editing the next chapter of the DND AU...

Me: *writes a 5k opener for an au that’s basically The Owl House*

------

“Again.”

Jon held still and kept his eyes shut. Everything ached, his head most of all; the slightest movement sent lightning bolts of pain through his skull. Even now it throbbed like a quiet threat behind his closed eyes.

“Get up, Jon.”

He couldn’t. He was done. Wasn’t that obvious?

“I don’t have time to indulge you. I know you can do more. Now get up.”

He couldn’t.

“Open your eyes, Jonathan.”

That was a simpler request, at least. He could do that much, couldn’t he? He could open his eyes. It barely counted as moving.

Dutifully, Jon forced his eyelids apart. Punishment was swift; this time the pain was so intense that he couldn’t even scream, only curl up tighter on the floor with a strangled whimper. The polished tiles were cold against his face, but they did little to soothe the ache. Warm liquid trickled from his closed eyes; when had he started crying?

Across the room, Jonah sighed. “Already? We’ve barely scratched the surface, Jon. I expected another hour from you, at minimum.” Footsteps echoed against the floor, and Jon tensed in spite of the pain, but the hands that picked him up were gentle. “Come now. Our work is too important for me to indulge you like this. For Titan’s sake, your endurance was better when you were a mere child.”

Jon kept his eyes shut, and hated the part of himself that wanted to curl up again, apologize, and promise to do better. The ache was beginning to recede, just barely, but he kept his eyes shut. If he opened them too soon, then Jonah would take it as a sign that he wasn’t as tired as he behaved.

“Can you make your own way back?” Jonah asked, steadying him by the shoulders. “Or do you need help?”

Jon’s blood ran cold. That was a dangerous question. If he chose to go under his own power, then Jonah might change his mind about letting him stop. But he didn’t want help. His limbs felt like wet clay, and there wasn’t a single muscle in his body that didn’t hurt, but at least they were still his.

“I—” HIs voice cracked in his dry throat. “I can—I can make my own way. Th-thank you, Jonah.” He held his breath.

After far too long for comfort, Jonah sighed again, heavy with disappointment. “Alright, Jon. Get some rest. We’ll do better in the morning.”

“Yes, Jonah,” Jon replied, faint with relief, and waited.

He was met with silence.

“Have you changed your mind?” Jonah said, after a moment. “If you’d like to continue…”

“No,” Jon replied. “No, I’m—thank you. For letting me stop. Just…” He held his hands out in a blind plea. “It’s my eyes, so I need…”

“Ah, of course, how could it have slipped my mind?” He heard a faint rustle from Jonah’s robe, before warm, smooth wood was pressed into his waiting hands. Jon swallowed another sob of relief. “There you are, then.”

“Thank you,” Jon repeated, and turned toward where he hoped the exit was.

The shape in his hands shifted. Smooth wood became downy softness, before the feeling left his hands and landed gently against his face. Soft wings brushed his cheeks, tiny legs grasped the bridge of his nose, and the world returned to him.

He hadn’t opened his eyes, but he could see the room once more: the library’s main room, a vast space where he and Jonah did most of their work. He could see Jonah as well, watching him with the weary patience of a parent indulging a child’s tantrum.

Jon looked away, muttered his thanks again, and limped out of the room.

Even with a closed door between them, the weight of Jonah’s scrutiny never left. Not helping the matter was the wallpaper that, currently, was openly tracking his progress through the countless eyes hidden in the intricate pattern.

That was the downside to navigating with these eyes; when he used his own, he couldn’t see the Beholding that soaked every nook and cranny of the manor. At least then he could pretend that closed doors and distance meant something.

It was a long way from the research wing to his quarters—their quarters—and Jon had to pause several times for a moment’s rest. By the time he reached the last flight of stairs, he was shaking from exhaustion, and strongly considering the benefits of simply curling up in a corner of the hallway and falling asleep on the floor. Jonah certainly kept the carpets plush enough.

His borrowed vision went hazy for a moment, and soft wings beat gently against his face. Jon braced himself against the wall as another powerful headache washed over him, closed eyes be damned. His face was wet with tears again.

“Alright,” he murmured. “Alright. Just a bit farther.”

The mask of wings left his face in a sudden flurry of beating, leaving him blind again. Jon bit back a cry of alarm and stayed where he was, leaning against the wall. He wouldn’t leave—surely he wouldn’t. He’d be back. Maybe he was just…

Before he could work himself into a proper panic, he heard the door at the top of the stairs creak open. Familiar footsteps came tumbling down the steps.

“Fuck, Jon,” a familiar, wonderfully welcome voice breathed out, and Gerry caught him before he could fall.

Jon made the rest of the journey leaning heavily against him, blind and trusting. He could feel gentle puffs of air against his face, fluttering wings that didn’t quite touch, and smiled gratefully.

Eventually Gerry deposited him in a chair and went to retrieve something—from the potions stand, going by the clatter of glass vials. Less than a minute later, one of them was pressed into his hand.

“Here. Need help drinking?”

Jon shook his head. “I can manage. Thanks.” He downed the potion and was rewarded by a receding headache. His eyelids were so sticky that he had to massage them open, and his vision came back in blurry patches, one piece of the room at a time: A single table and chair by the kitchenette. Two beds shoved together in the far corner. The sparsest alchemy array on the Isles. Gerry's face, watching him with open concern.

"Do you know how much you lost?" Gerry asked.

"What?"

Gerry gestured to his face, and Jon mirrored the motion until he found rough, sticky stains streaked down his face. He was confused until some of it crumbled off at his touch, and he looked down to find flecks of congealed blood clinging to his fingertips. "That's probably not good."

"Yeah, Jon," Gerry sighed, short and forceful with held back anger. "Probably isn't." He moved off to the kitchenette, and returned moments later with a damp towel.

Jon cleaned his face, sighing in relief at the coolness against the lingering ache. He put the now-soiled towel aside, eyes finally clear, and caught the briefest glimpse of amber eye spots on coppery wings before their owner alighted gently on the side of his head.

"Yes, of course," he said, reaching up to stroke one of the moth's large downy wings. His familiar nuzzled his finger in return. "Thank you, Atlas."

"He alright?" Gerry asked grimly, already checking the moth for any sign of damage.

"Jonah had him for the entire session," Jon replied. "No overt threats today, he just… didn't let him go until we were finished. So. Could be worse."

"Could be a lot better," Gerry muttered.

It will be, he carefully didn't say. Soon, it will be.

It wasn't safe to talk like that. Not here. Not yet.

After Gerry coaxed food into him, Jon crawled beneath the covers and curled up as small as he could manage. Patched and mended blankets didn’t offer any more protection than the walls of this place, but huddling in the dark made it easier to pretend that Jonah couldn’t see him here. It was the only way he could make himself sleep, these days.

When he awoke to Gerry’s gentle shaking, Jon found that he hadn’t moved so much as a finger in his sleep.

Without a word, he slipped out from under the blanket. The light in their quarters was dimming as twilight approached. Gerry barely glanced up from the book he was reading at the table as Jon shuffled to the kitchenette and the kettle.

Casting the spell was a simple matter of well-practiced sleight of hand, disguised beneath mundane activities. One spell circle traced idly by Gerry’s finger against the page as he turned it, the other drawn in the air as Jon waved away the steam. They never did it the same way twice, nor with any regularity by day or week or month. If it became a pattern, then Jonah might catch it.

The spell slipped into place smoothly, with none of the clumsy ripples of their earliest attempts, and Jon let out a shaky sigh. They had to assume that Jonah was always watching—but now, if he was, all he would see was Gerry reading at the table, and Jon drinking tea at the kitchenette. It was a routine they had set long ago. It was exactly what Jonah would expect to see.

Titan willing, it would be enough. They couldn’t afford to slip up now.

“It’s almost ready,” Gerry assured him. “Everything’s in place. All we have to do is wait for the moon’s alignment to power it.”

Jon ran his hand absently over his arm, scratching at the pockmark scars that dotted his skin. Some of the ingredients had cost them dearly to procure. They likely wouldn’t get another chance on any of them.

When he looked at Gerry again, his friend was watching him with something indescribably soft in his face. “It’ll work, Jon.”

“And if we’re caught?” Jon blurted. “We can’t hide this ritual behind false visions. He’ll sense it no matter what his eyes tell him.”

“Once it’s cast, it won’t matter,” Gerry said with grim satisfaction. “We’ll have our out. And where it leads, Jonah won’t have any of the power he does here.”

Jon took a deep, shaky breath, and nodded. His hands curled and uncurled at his sides, nails digging deep into his palms.

Gerry’s eyes never left him. “What’s on your mind?”

Swallowing against the thickness in his throat, Jon struggled to find an answer. “Is it—is it wrong that I’m afraid?”

“Jon, no—”

“I didn’t want to be here,” Jon went on. “I never wanted—ever since I came here, I’ve wanted to leave. And now we finally have a chance. Why am I afraid?” Gerry opened his mouth like he was about to reply, but Jon couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried. “It’s not like I’m safe here. Today wasn’t even that bad, compared to… it wasn't that bad.” A bitter, ragged laugh tore itself from his throat. "He pushed me until I bled from my eyes, and he was happy to keep pushing, and all I can think is it wasn't that bad. Why am I afraid to leave?" His voice trailed off. Atlas’s wings fluttered against his head, mirroring his agitation.

Instead of answering, Gerry held out his arms. Jon walked into them without hesitation.

“You were a kid.” With his head on Gerry’s shoulder, his hand to his heart, and Gerry’s arms holding him close, Jon felt surrounded by his friend’s voice.

“I was nearly eighteen,” Jon protested. “Hardly a child.”

“I’m just saying, you’ve been here too long not to be scared of what’s out there,” Gerry reminded him. “And it’s not like we’re escaping out the front door. We don’t really know what we’ll find on the other side.”

Jon’s hand curled into a fist against Gerry’s chest, and his other arm tightened around him. If they did this right, then their exit strategy would dump them into an entirely new world, of which Jon had only ever read old books or heard second and third-hand stories. A fresh wave of apprehension seized him.

Not for the first time, he let himself be desperately, pathetically grateful that he wasn’t doing this alone.

“Can you keep it together?” Gerry asked, still quietly gentle. “I just—I know you’re scared. I’m scared too. But I can’t do this alone. This is a two-person job at least, and—”

“Of course.” Reluctantly, Jon pulled back to look him in the eye. “I’m not going to give up at the last moment. You can rely on me.”

Gerry smiled. That was a rare thing, these days. All the more reason not to lose his nerve. Once they got out, Jon was going to spend the rest of their lives giving Gerry every reason to keep doing it.

“I know,” Gerry replied. “Now come on. Let’s finish prepping before we run out of twilight.”

***

“You know,” Gerry whispered late at night, as Jon settled himself into the curve of his body. “By the time I left home, I’d passed up five chances to escape.”

Jon listened in silence. He was never quite sure what to say when Gerry talked about how he grew up. Nothing felt like the right thing to say. Luckily, Gerry never seemed to expect him to say anything at all.

“Those are just the ones I was looking out for, at the time,” Gerry went on. “Couldn’t tell you how many I just didn’t see.”

“You were a kid,” Jon murmured back.

Gerry scoffed into Jon’s hair, and Jon smiled. “Don’t you turn my words back on me. How dare you.” A moment later, “But… you’re not wrong. I was a kid. She was all I knew. I didn’t know who I was without her.”

Safely out of Gerry’s line of vision, Jon allowed himself a thoughtful frown. It was different for him, wasn’t it? Gerry had been born his mother’s son, but Jon had been someone before he was Jonah’s… whatever he was. Student, research assistant, test subject, prisoner.

Before, he’d been the son of parents he barely remembered. He’d been the grandson of a woman who did her best until he drove her to give up on him, and a coven leader came to her with a kind smile and a promise to take away her burden. And now…

And now he wasn’t any of that. Because there wasn’t anything for him to go back to. The only way out was forward, into the unknown.

“I figured it out in the end,” Gerry told him. “You will too. I know you will.”

“I might need help with that,” Jon admitted. “I could use your expertise.”

A soft huff of laughter jostled him. “I’m gonna be in the same boat as you, you know? I’ve never been to the human world.”

“You still know more about it than me,” Jon pointed out.

Gerry was quiet for a moment. “He didn’t tell you anything?” he asked eventually. “It didn’t take much to get him talking, when I was running around with him.”

“Only a few things. His family, his brother, some of his favorite foods. It was all we had time for before we parted ways.”

“Ah, that’s a shame,” Gerry sighed. “The human world sounds amazing—if even half the things he told me about were even real.”

Jon laughed softly. “I know what you mean. Can you imagine someone actually swimming in the ocean? It would strip the flesh clean off your bones.”

“Not if the water’s cold and non-corrosive. Which it apparently is. People swim in the ocean all the time. It’s a thing. They take their kids and everything.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Jon stifled a yawn.

“It was weird, you know?” Gerry went on. “The things he’d talk about like they were nothing. Sometimes he’d say just the wildest thing, and he’d look at me like I was crazy when I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about.”

“Like what?”

“Hmm… trying to think of one I haven’t told you before…” Gerry hesitated. “Did I tell you about how mornings in the human realm just… make water?”

“You mentioned something about the rainwater being cold,” Jon replied.

“No no, this is different. Titan, how did he explain it…” Gerry hummed thoughtfully. “Something about how, when it’s cold enough, everything’s covered in little droplets of water in the morning. The air just… does that. Makes water out of nothing.”

“I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”

“Can’t remember,” Gerry admitted. “He showed me a picture, though. Water droplets on a spiderweb. Looked like tiny little diamonds. Dunno what kind of face I was making, but he laughed at me.”

“Rude,” Jon murmured.

“Still not sure I believe it.”

“Maybe we’ll see it for ourselves. One day.” One day very, very soon.

Gerry’s only reply was to run gentle fingers through Jon’s hair, again and again, until Jon finally fell asleep.

***

The moon sat at its apex, round and bright and wreathed in blue fire that seemed to dim the stars around it. It was the first thing Jon saw when Gerry gently shook him awake.

He stirred, wincing when his movements jarred his injuries. Most of the day had been devoted to Jonah’s experiments, and Jon had fresh wounds to prove it. The burns on his face would heal without scarring, but his right hand was still wrapped in liniment-soaked bandages. Jon avoided putting any weight on it as he rose to a sitting position and pushed back the blanket. The sight of the moon, burning brightly in celestial alignment, chased away any lingering weariness.

They cast their usual cloaking spell with less caution than usual. It was only a stopgap measure at best, a few minutes’ safety to get everything in place. The table, chair, and alchemy set were pushed aside to clear the floor. With steadier hands—Jonah had been focused on Jon today, leaving Gerry a day of respite—Gerry borrowed Jon’s staff to draw the circle. Atlas alighted on his place at the top of the staff, colors fading as he shifted back into wood, and the symbols glowed brighter. Jon fetched each component from their hiding places around the room, and began laying them out amid the lines that Gerry was tracing.

They worked quickly, not speaking, barely breathing. For all their planning, there had been no time to practice. They would get only one chance, and no more.

And so, there was no time or opportunity to brace themselves before Gerry drew the last line, and Jon poured the last drop of Titan blood, and the circle caught the moonfire blazing through the open window.

The spell ignited, and the sheer force of clashing power nearly knocked them both off their feet. Their flimsy cloaking spell shattered, exposing them to Jonah’s sight, but it was far too late to turn back.

Jon had barely regained his footing when his own magic, coursing through the spell circle alongside Gerry’s, was caught in the moonlight’s amplifying effect. For a single, glorious moment, for the first time in years, Jon felt magic—wild magic, covenless magic—coursing through him. He smelled fire and earth and sea air, felt wind against his face, sensed the distant light of stars above them, tasted blood in the back of his throat as drumbeats pounded in his ears. Every sensation rushed him at once, melding together into a storm of color and music. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever felt.

And then the coven brand on his arm blazed, burning away the storm until only the Beholding remained.

It seized him mercilessly, knowledge clamoring its way into his head all at once. It was a confusing mess, so many sights and sounds and thoughts that he couldn’t have picked out a single one among them. But in the end he adjusted, the stream became more focused, and his mind was his own once more.

At the center of the circle, a seam formed in the fabric of the world. It split neatly down the length of it, opening wide into a ragged doorway.

Jon’s heart leapt. They had been planning this for years, researching in secret, sneaking and lying and stealing to get the components together, and yet—only now did he realize that he had never expected it to actually work. The fact that it had, that freedom lay only a few steps from where he stood, was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

Jonah was on his way, he realized absently. It wasn’t just the inevitability of it; even without his focus on the river of knowledge flowing through him, he couldn’t help but catch a few drops. One of them showed their captor flying up the stairs toward their quarters, wild-eyed and intent.

“Gerry,” he said. “We have to—”

Another scrap of knowledge slipped into his mind, like a dagger between his ribs.

“Jon?” Gerry’s voice sounded far away. Everything was suddenly muffled, even the portal. Even the Beholding, swollen with moonlight, felt far away. The whole world was contained in a single, inescapable truth.

“We can’t.” The words slipped from Jon’s mouth. His hand closed on Gerry’s arm. “Gerry, we can’t.”

“Jon, let go, the portal’s right—”

“It won’t work.” Jon squeezed his arm. “It won’t—there’s not enough power. It’s not stable enough for both of us. As soon as one of us goes through, the spell will fall apart and the portal will close. It won’t work.”

Gerry stared back at him, face suffused with dismay.

Dismay, but not surprise.

Jon’s heart sank like a stone in mud. “You knew.”

“Jon, there’s no time for this, now let go—” He was pulling away, prying Jon’s fingers from his arm, and the portal was within his reach, and Jonah was so close to their door.

“You knew,” he repeated. “How long have you known? How long have you been lying?”

“I had no choice!” Gerry shouted over the crackling, ringing din of the spell. “There was no other way! What was I supposed to do, sit here while both of us wasted away? What other chance was either of us going to get?”

The worst part was, Jon couldn’t bring himself to be surprised, or even all that angry, really. Of course this was going to happen. It was simply the culmination of his entire life, thus far. His parents, his old friends, his grandmother—and now Gerry.

Maybe it was just his lot to be left behind.

Across the room, the door rattled. Jonah called to them from the other side. Jon barely heard either.

“I…” His throat grew thick. “I understand.”

“Jon, I’m sorry,” Gerry said desperately. “I wish there was another way.”

“No, I—” He really shouldn’t be crying. This was a happy thing, after all. Gerry was going to be free. “At least—even if it’s just one of us—”

Gerry smiled through his own tears. “I’m really gonna miss you,” he said.

“It’s not fair,” Jon blurted out. “We were supposed to go together. We were supposed to see it together!”

“When has any of this ever been fair?”

Tears gathered in his eyes until Jon blinked them away. His last sight of Gerry should be a clear one. “Please don’t forget me.”

The door rattled again, and Gerry choked back a sob. “Fuck. I could never. You’re not the sort of person anyone just forgets.”

Before Jon could reply, Gerry lunged forward. Not toward the portal, not toward freedom, but to Jon. The kiss was fast and clumsy with desperation, but the hands against the sides of his face were ruthlessly gentle.

“I love you,” Gerry whispered. “Don’t look back.”

Jon blinked back his tears, confusion cutting through the grief. “What?”

Gerry curled Jon’s hands around the staff and threw him into the portal.

He fell through the riot of color and music, too shocked to scream as the image of Gerry shattered into pieces above him. The light winked out, and Jon fell into the emptiness alone.

***

Jon landed hard, though not nearly hard enough for how long he must have been falling.

He lay in darkness and silence, wheezing softly as he regained his breath, gripping his staff until his fingers went numb and his injured hand screamed in protest. The air was cold and smelled stale. The light show from the portal was gone, but he could still feel its power humming beneath his skin, threatening to burst free.

After a while, Jon gathered himself enough to roll over. The floor felt like stone beneath his hands, relatively smooth but unpolished. With a grunt of effort, Jon planted his staff on the ground and pulled himself to his feet. It was too dark to see well when he opened his eyes, so he felt along the length of the staff until he found the shape of wooden moth wings at the end.

“Atlas?” His voice rasped in his chest. The wood turned to soft chitin, and Atlas took off from the head of the staff to flutter in frantic circles around his head, buffeting him gently when he flew too close. “Yes, yes—it’s alright. We’re alright.”

Atlas landed on his shoulder, and Jon’s eyes adjusted.

Was this the human world? For all he knew, the portal might have simply dropped him elsewhere in the demon realm. He was in a room, possibly a basement, judging by the clutter. Boxes sat in stacks and piles, some of them too full to close properly. Indistinct objects sat against the walls—an old mirror, frames wrapped in thick brown paper, a tall wooden clock that didn’t seem to be working. A thick layer of dust blanketed everything, untouched by fingerprints or footsteps.

He was alone.

Of course he was alone, he’d seen the portal break apart as soon as he fell into it, with Gerry still on the other side. Jonah had been seconds from breaking the door down, and now—

A harsh sob took him by surprise, and tears blinded him all over again.

Jonah had never set a clear punishment for escaping. And now, whatever it was, Gerry was facing it alone.

They weren’t supposed to be alone, they were never supposed to be alone. It shouldn’t have been him going through the portal, it should have been Gerry, why couldn’t have been Gerry, why couldn’t Gerry have been selfish for once in his life—

A distant scream rang out, shocking him out of his tears. Jon stared around, wide-eyed and searching, but the room was still. Then the ceiling shook with a crash, drawing his eyes upward.

“It’s above us,” he murmured. “Stairs—we need to find stairs.” Atlas took off from his shoulder, eye spots glowing in the gloom.

With an extra set of eyes, Jon found the stairs within a minute. He ran up them, his brand warming as he loosened the leash on his swollen magic. The door at the top of the steps was locked, but he Knew within seconds where to find a key. Atlas vanished from his side and returned moments later, clutching it in all six of his legs.

The door opened to an unlit hallway. Jon hesitated, took one last look back at the dark and cluttered basement, and hurried on.

He could hear more, now that he was really listening for it. Running footsteps, multiple sets by the sound of it. Shouting, always muffled and bitten-off, as if whoever was doing it was trying very hard not to. There were people in trouble—this was the human world, wasn’t it? Was it as hostile as the demon realm after all?

The hallway ended and took him up another flight of stairs. He expected to see light at some point, either artificial or from the windows. The last time he saw the moon, it had nearly blinded him. But instead, the darkness of the stairwell only seemed to grow thicker as he ascended, and reaching the door at the top did nothing to abate it.

At the very least, what he could see of the room he stepped out into looked more like the ground floor. There were proper floorboards, high ceilings, and windows that only showed faint outlines of trees against a dark, starless sky. The house was unlit, and his eyes refused to adjust. Jon drew a quick spell circle on his forehead with one fingertip, and magic poured into his eyes to light the way.

Shouting rang out again from somewhere above. Jon raced to follow it.

Around him, the house was in the slow process of falling apart. Ornate wallpaper hung faded and peeling, shreds of old rugs showed the ragged remains of color and embroidery, and broken shards of wood protruded from walls and doorways alike, as if any ornamentation set into them had been ripped out long ago. This must have been a fine-looking house once, but now it was a crumbling wreck.

Eventually the hallway opened up to another dilapidated chamber, this one a rotting front hall with its doors still standing ajar. Opposite them, the sagging remains of a grand staircase led up to another floor.

Jon had nearly reached the foot of it when he spotted movement at the top of the steps, and his vision went black.

For a split second he thought he’d lost consciousness, but the floor remained firmly beneath his feet. His breath came in short bursts of alarm as he drew another spell circle for sight in the darkness, to no avail.

Jon settled his grip on the staff, wincing at the pain in his burned hand. The bad news was, nothing that simple was going to let him see through this darkness. The good news was, it meant he knew what he was dealing with. He should have figured it out as soon as he left the basement and saw how dark it was. Stupid.

He could hear the others. Their running footsteps had fallen still, but the sound of panicked breathing was unmistakable. Someone was whimpering in pain with each breath. Someone else was whispering frantic reassurances. The darkness swallowed up everything else.

Jon hardly had to reach for his magic. It was brimming all the way to the surface, swollen from the storm of half-wild magic that had brought him here. When he drew a spell circle in the air with a tight whirl of his staff, it all came boiling up and out like a geyser.

Eyes opened everywhere—in Jon’s face and neck, along the length of his staff, in Atlas’s wooden face and wings, and in the choked air all around him. The darkness burned away as quick and clean as thin paper, revealing the scene before him.

There were three people now at the foot of the stairs, in such a state of panicked disarray that Jon could hardly tell whether they’d run or fallen down them. The larger of the two men had the others pushed behind him, backing away from the creature that menaced them, all three of them too frozen in terror to even attempt to cast a spell.

In spite of the glowing eyes that lit the room, a single wriggling mass of darkness remained, crawling and twitching toward its prey with wispy feelers that reached out to touch them. Sour air wafted from its body, filling the room with the smell of rot.

An acid shade. Nasty, hateful things that hunted prey by blinding it, then dissolving it while it was still alive. One touch was enough to melt the skin off your hand. Gerry still had scars from his last encounter with one.

Gerry.

The eyes blazed, and for the first time the brightness touched the shade’s slick hide. It recoiled, convulsing with a sound that was not a scream, but close enough.

Jon didn’t remember crossing the room, but he stood between the writhing mass of shadows and its would-be victims, so he must have. Fear warred with wild, directionless anger. He missed Gerry and hated Jonah. He remembered the feeling of lips on his, and the sight of his only friend weeping as his image shattered. Jon took all of it, gathered up every last drop, and poured it all into the merciless light of his swollen magic. He gave it all of himself, until it was blinding, until he could See every part of the room he stood in, down to every last crack in the walls, down to every convulsing wisp of darkness that made up the shade.

It let out another not-scream as it was utterly, agonizingly Seen.

And then it was gone, and Jon’s last drop of magic trickled out and left him hollow.

The darkness returned—not a demonic creature this time, but regular unconsciousness creeping up on him. He fought it as he turned and looked back at the faces of the people he’d saved. A round-faced man, so pale that his freckles stood out in his face; a woman with wide eyes and dark hair in disarray; and the second man clutching a corrosive burn that covered his arm, whose face—

—whose face Jon recognized.

“Danny?” Half-blind, Jon struggled to focus as the world grew smaller, and the darkness overtaking it nearly obscured the look of shock on the man’s face. “You found your way home?”

He lost his grip on consciousness before he could hear the answer.

#the magnus archives #tma #jongerry #tma fic #tma isekai au #fanfiction #tales from the pit

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theyarebothgunshot · 3 years

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jib 6 breakdown and analysis

standard disclaimer: i am not gonna be linking to every single thing i talk about, but i will try my best to link to the moments that stand out to me the most. i have read long posts about this panel before, so not everything in this post is gonna be original or said for the first time ever, simply because there is a good chance that information has stuck in my mind and has subconsciously formed my view of this panel. this is also in no way, shape or form gonna be coherent, unfortunately. i’m just gonna hope that the cockles hivemind will be able to make sense of this regardless. love and light. and lastly, this is all in good fun, so don’t come at me if you think this is too out there please and thank you.

if i would have to give this panel a signifier, i would say this is the panel of the inside jokes. it’s the panel that shows us how well they know each other, to the point that they finish each other’s sentences and start telling the same punchline to a joke at the same time.

but besides all of that, it was also the panel of the shoulder touches, husband behavior, and rescuer misha. let’s dive into it.

i adore the fact that they are laughing and joking with each other from the first second they get on stage. the way that they tell that story about how they planned to have misha nap and have jensen drink whisky and humm, really reminds me of something that i mentioned a lot during my jib 7 analysis: they are very much in sync.

jensen slinging his arm around misha of course had to be compensated with a manly face and manly grip. the rituals… i know they are intricate.

it’s kind of cute how misha tried to both encourage jensen to try that step, and wanted to make sure he wouldn’t hurt himself lmao. dare i say husband behavior? (i do dare and i will do it again, bam bam!)

something about the way they talk about j*red just makes me feel like they are such a team, if that makes sense? like, they both think the same things about j*red’s antics and talk in such a united way about it (“and jensen and i were like…” “i don’t even care. he [points at misha] doesn’t care.”) that it just sounds kind of coupley to me. *whispers* husband behavior.

i love that jensen’s first instinct after talking about missing j*red was to go over to misha, put his hand on his shoulder, and talk about his fucking flirting way of pranking misha versus j*red’s painful pranking of misha. “with you it’s like my friend and protector is....” i truly wish the audience wasn’t as loud as they were in that moment because i would love to fully hear that sentence.

the look on jensen’s face when misha says “save it for when we take off our pants” is just priceless. ‘oh god here we go again, when will he ever learn’ but the funny thing is, he will make the same face later on in the panel, after talking about riding a dragon. that’s the face he makes when one of them goes slightly too far. just thought that was interesting.

what stands out to me the most is his reaction when misha turns around just as he is ‘fake unbuttoning’ his pants like: ‘i’m just kidding i’m innocent’ literally no reason to respond like that if misha is just his buddy.

misha’s “what are you doing?” as jensen is tying his flannel around his waist also stands out to me. he clearly does not like the look and can’t keep his mouth shut (“that was bothering me too”). why would you find the need to comment on your buddy’s fashion choice. (....husband behavior.)

just wanna take a moment to say that it’s very fucking funny that jensen said “don’t take selfies” when you know that just a few years later he would take the chest to chest selfie with misha. oh, jensen.

we have all heard the “jensen pranks misha on set by flirting with him” story countless of times, but it’s still funny to me how flustered misha seems to get by the fact that jensen can get to him that easily. and jensen’s laugh here is so cute, he fully knows what he is doing.

misha jokes that he spends more time sunning on rocks now as a merman than he used to, and jensen immediately starts to walk to the apple juice, something i have noticed that he does whenever he wants to avoid something (be it a question or a situation that’s happening on stage). it almost feels like he is stopping himself from making a comment or something. it’s interesting, because he just turns right back around and starts telling the grasshopper joke without getting anything to drink.

which leads to one of my favorite moments between them: misha, beaming, says that he has heard it before but he wants to hear it again, and mouths the words to the punchline along with jensen. he looks at the audience as if to say ‘good one, right?’ and when jensen goes “is this thing on?” misha immediately tries to distract him from his failed joke by using an inside joke (the first inside joke of the panel) with him. aka good husband behavior.

something tells me that “i’ll see you again, grasshopper” is another inside joke, so we’re counting it: number two.

jensen. jensen pspsps come here. can you please explain to me why you are so horny for misha’s indianrussian accent? i cannot believe him (i can), trying to get him to use the accent to ‘help the girl in the audience’.

so uhm. i think i just heard something while i was rewatching this panel that i never caught before. when misha reads what is on the box that was put on stage, he says: ‘please take this box and open later in private - daniella.’ and jensen goes: ‘yeah that’s from me’ with a flirty Look on his face like. hello??? why have i never seen anybody talk about this??? i’m??? internally screaming??? rest assured i had to take 5 when i saw this shit.

can we take a second to appreciate the fact that jensen gave misha a once over when misha says the glitter is everywhere, and then jensen said “fairy herpes”. why did your mind go to a sexual reference jensen? why? (we know why).

“i hate when you get that look in your eyes. don’t! i’m sorry!” is one of the most coupley things to say, ever. just wanted to point that out.

i love the playful vibe they have during this portion of the panel: jensen asking misha what he will do for the audience (thinly veiled excuse for wanting misha to do something that jensen will also enjoy), throwing the rings at misha, both of them “panicking” and lapping up the spilled apple juice.

look, i couldn’t not include the shirt lift. i had to. especially because of the way he looks at misha afterwards lmao and misha, darling misha, tries to defuse the situation by making a joke and it works because of course jensen does his signature unicorn laugh. sidenote: how cute is jackles when he grabs the guitar, begging people to erase the picture jsfhs. gotta love that man.

“you done messed up” inside joke number 3.

you know what is funny to me? the fact that jensen and misha often pretend not to know certain things about each other when they are on stage together. one example of this is during the underbear debacle, when jensen asks misha to proof he wears orange underwear and pretends he is shocked, even though the whole world knows that misha wears orange underwear.

in this panel, it happens twice. the first time is here, when misha asks jensen ‘do you actually not smell?’ as if he isn’t one of the people in this world who would know that best. and then he, of course, immediately takes this opportunity to sniff jensen’s armpit. i mean. okay. which is extra funny because jackles doesn’t play along with the whole ‘i have no clue’ bit and just goes “yeah you’re not a stinker” without checking because, clearly, he already knows.

i love jensen’s little smirk when he hears misha’s dragon would be pink + misha’s reaction to it.

before i read this post i always thought jensen meant that his own dragon would be salmon colored. but now i think that it’s not far fetched to believe jensen was actually thinking about the fact that he has stated he was wearing a salmon shirt. which means that, in this moment right here, he was implying that instead of pink, misha’s dragon (aka jensen) would be salmon. which makes his reaction (looking down, laughing but shaking his head as if he can’t believe himself) very understandable. remember what i said about that being the face he makes when one of them takes it too far? yeah.

but then, something happens that is quite remarkable to me. instead of backing down from what he said, he fully commits to it. he turns to misha, and goes “if i could ride a dragon”. listen to the way he puts extra weight behind “ride” and “dragon”.

then he asks if he understands the question correctly and repeats “what would it look like?”, the girl in the audience says “yes, but also any special abilities…” but jensen just ignores that because obviously, in his head the dragon is misha and he is not gonna shake that thought process any time soon. so naturally, he goes “i think my dragon that i would want to…” but stops JUST before saying “ride”, the guy KNEW what he was sounding like. lmao jensen i gotta give it to you buddy, good effort. you did well. you came far. you even said “look, i’m just gonna go for it here” even though misha’s face speaks volumes. i love you for that. because everything that came out of your mouth right then sounded very not straight.

in fact, it’s only because of misha’s interference (a reoccurring thing during these panels) that he stops himself completely and goes to talk with misha. i really wonder what would have happened if misha didn’t stop him. i also REALLY wonder what misha and jensen discussed when they turned their backs to the audience. sigh.

now we get to the juicy stuff. jensen’s little slip up here is really really strange, when you think about it. he says “i have kids” before quickly covering that up with “i have a kid now.” i’m not saying the ackles and the collins are one big happy family or anything like that, but i do think that they are close enough for him to slip up like this. maybe the kids hang out together a lot. maybe they have given each other enough support during those early days of raising kids that it sometimes feels like he had multiple kids at that point in time. idk. but in any case, i don’t think that’s a slip up you’d make unless there was some sort of truth in it. he also kind of stumbles over his words right after that. [before anybody runs to my inbox to tell me that j/2 tinhatters think this is about him and j*red raising their kids together: trust me, i know, but we’re not talking about that.]

misha’s cheeky “i thought you were talking about danneel” followed by the both of them simultaneously saying that jensen does not tell her what to do, made me grin like a fool. that is all.

the way jensen says “misha, apparently you were looking pale and you need some sugar. there you go.” is so SOFT AND CUTE idek how to explain what i am feeling but it’s just. a lot. oh wait a minute, i do know what to call it: HUSBAND behavior.

“by the way we’re gonna pay so dearly when we get home” “yeah we are” lmao the jdmv vibes are strong in this one.

look. i know it’s possible that misha woke up alone after that dream, thought to himself ‘i miss her’, went for breakfast, saw jensen, and told this story to him verbatim. but misha is literally telling the story from the pov of waking up from a dream and saying that out loud. it would make sense that he would explain that dream to the person who he woke up with, and that he would follow the dream explanation up with “i miss her”. plus jensen is REPEATING IT as if he was right there when misha said that. add to that the way jackles stumbles over his words here and gets flustered and sits down? and misha’s face? yeah. you done messed up jackles, part 2.

jensen doesn’t know what to do with himself. just look at his face right after he sits down. and misha, once again, comes to the rescue, trying to continue the conversation about poop in order to distract both jensen and the audience. bless his soul.

it leads to the second instance of misha pretending that he doesn’t know something about jensen, namely that jensen can’t stand poop even from his own daughter. misha goes: “no? not for you?” as if he didn’t already know that.

round of applause for the jib team, for putting on ‘this thing called love’ to get jensen and misha to dance……. just saying.

jensen’s little nod to misha right here? husband telepathic communication at its finest. even their silly dad dances are in sync.

jackles you are NOT being slick we can SEE you tossing the mic to your other hand so you can pull misha in by the waist (or honestly maybe his hand landed lower idk idk it’s possible).

it really is something special, though, what happened right here: jensen, macho masculine grumpy performative jensen, is smiling and laughing and enjoying dancing on stage, doing some ballet moves, all because of misha (and by some extent felicia). not just with felicia or by himself, but with rob, osric, etc. honestly it’s heartwarming to watch. it makes me smile so much.

and that was jib 6. thanks for reading everybody <3

#cockles #jib 6 #i used a different method to add the timestamps and i really hope it works this time #as always please feel free to share your thoughts ! <3

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beelsnack · 3 years

Text

Obey Me! Boys Taking Care of a Sick MC

In honor of me no longer having covid, I decided to write down how I mentally coped with having the plague some headcanons about our boys and a sick MC. Because I’m all about the hurt/comfort life.

-----

Lucifer: “You should be resting.”

The human scowled. Of course Lucifer was standing guard at the bottom of the staircase.

“I’m just going to get some water,” their voice sounded like sandpaper against wood as they spoke. They felt like the living dead, and judging by the cool stare Lucifer was giving them, they looked it, too.

“No, you’re just going back to bed.” He caught them by the elbow as soon as they were within reach. “I’ll bring a pitcher of water to your room for you.”

“Lucif--” their complaint was cut off by a sudden coughing fit. The force of it made them double over, and they clutched at their chest with one hand while the other went to cover their mouth. Demons couldn’t catch human illnesses, but old habits die hard.

It wasn’t until their lungs stopped trying to eject themselves from their body that they realized that Lucifer had sat them down on the bottom step. He was rubbing slow, soothing circles on their back, a rare look of concern in his dark eyes. “Easy now, my dear,” he murmured as they caught their breath. “You’re shaking, are you chilled?”

“...Just a little,” they wheezed. They must not have sounded very convincing, because Lucifer quickly removed one glove and gently pressed the back of his hand against their forehead.

“Your fever has come back.” In one quick, fluid movement, he had taken the cloak from around his shoulders and wrapped it around them like a blanket. “Go back to bed, now. I’ll bring you water and something to bring your fever down,” he spoke softly, like raising his voice would trigger another coughing fit.

It was too bad they were too sick to appreciate Lucifer’s soft side.

Mammon: “…A’ight, that should be everything.”

Admittedly, he might have gone a bit overboard. But, could you blame him? He’d never nursed a sick human back to health before!

…Okay, so Lucifer may or may not have let Mammon use his credit card to get stuff for them. And he may or may not have taken a few liberties. It was for the human though!

“Mammon, holy shit,” they mumbled, poking their head out from the blanket burrito they had cocooned themselves in. “Is there anything left at the convenience store or did you buy them out?”

“Shut it.” he set the last six-pack of Gatorade (well, the Devildom equivalent of it, anyway) at the foot of their bed. “Ya’ weren’t specific, so I just got one of each!”

Their room looked like a doomsday prepper’s bunker. Cans of soup, a myriad of flavors of instant noodles, a portable heater, the works. Maybe they should have been more specific.

“Do ya’ need anything else?” Mammon sounded vaguely annoyed, but underneath the gruff tone he spoke with, his concern was obvious. They had given him a scare when they first came down with the flu two days ago, temperature so high that they ended up collapsing on their way to RAD. He had been fussing over them since. They weren’t even sure if he had slept.

“...Just one more thing.”

“Yeah?” he perked up like a dog waiting for an order from its master. “Whaddaya need?”

Instead of speaking, they wiggled their arms free of the blankets and held them out. For a moment, Mammon just stared at them in confusion. When what they were asking for finally clicked, his face grew so hot they could use it as a space heater.

“What are you, a little kid?” he grumbled, but there wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation as he climbed into the bed with them. They settled themselves against his chest, sighing contentedly. Sleep had taken over in a few heartbeats.

“...Get better soon, you hear?” they didn’t, obviously, and Mammon took the opportunity to gently pat their head, like they so often did for him. “If you’re gonna be all cute and stuff, I want ya to be conscious of it.”

Leviathan: “You know, I really thought you would take longer to go through all of these.”

The human looked like a whole new person compared to the last time Levi had seen them. They were sitting upright, although they looked ready to slide back down into their previous coma-like state any minute, and the number of blankets wrapped around them had been reduced to just one instead of three. They managed to shoot him a weak grin as they handed over the manga he had let them borrow.

As much as Levi loved staying locked away in his inner sanctum, it was only an enjoyable experience if one’s source of entertainment was also locked away with them. And he couldn’t, in hood conscience, let the human die of boredom instead of dying of illness, so he had ventured out of his lair armed with his collector’s edition box set of I’m A Scholarship Student At An Obscenely Rich School and Now I Have To Work Off A Debt Because I Broke A Vase That Belonged To A Host Club!

That had only been a few days ago, but this morning he had gotten a text from them saying that they were finished.

“It’s not like I have anything else to do, Levi.”

“Pretty sure you could have been sleeping, but okay.”

They stuck their tongue out. “I couldn’t put it down.”

“Right?” Levi nodded enthusiastically, clutching the box to his chest like it was worth his weight in gold. Actually, knowing him, he probably paid his weight in gold for it. “I definitely bawled my eyes out at the end. You have to watch the anime next, the music really brings the scene together. And, like, I’m not usually into pastel themes, but the color scheme actually really fits the mood, and - “

Somewhere in the middle of Levi’s overly-excited info dumping, the human’s eyes had slipped closed. By the time Levi realized he was geeking out, their breathing had evened out and they had slumped against the headboard.

…Oh. They looked really cute like that.

“Sheesh, c’mon, normie,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I bored you to sleep.”

He set down the box on their nightstand and, very carefully, so he didn’t wake them up, inched them down to lay were laying against the mountain of pillows they had. Once they were settled into a position that wouldn’t give them a crick in their neck, he pulled the blanket up to their chin.

“There,” he nodded to himself. “You rest up, because you and I are going to have an anime marathon, and I won’t forgive you if you fall asleep in the middle of it.”

They mumbled, but otherwise stayed unconscious. Levi had definitely seen this in an anime before. His heart was pounding somewhere around his throat, but he wasn’t getting this opportunity again any time soon. Gently, like he was approaching a wild animal, he leaned in close and pressed his lips to their forehead.

“Seriously, get better soon.” he murmured. “I don’t like seeing you sick.”

Satan: His leg was falling asleep.

He had been sitting in the same position for at least an hour, and if it were anyone else he simply would have shoved them off and went about his day. But, how could he push the human away when they were curled up like a kitten in his lap?

They had been complaining about being bored, since they had been too feverish to attend RAD for the past few days. So Satan, always the man with a plan, had arrived in their room ready to binge watch his favorite crime drama. Even though he had seen this show at least eight times, he still found himself getting absolutely sucked into the plot. So much so that he didn’t notice the human starting to nod off until they landed against his side.

“Honestly, you could have just told me you were tired.” he muttered, gently rearranging them so their head was resting in his lap. They made a small noise in their sleep, but otherwise remained unconscious.

It was so rare that the human was still. They seemed to have an endless source of energy, able to be embroiled in all of the shenanigans that tended to happen around the family without absolutely disintegrating. To have them finally at rest, even sick, was quite the treat. Satan couldn’t quit help himself as he reached down to pet their head.

Well, if he was going to be stuck here until they woke up, at least he had a good show to watch.

Asmodeus: “Asmo, I can bathe by myself.”

“Yeah, no, don’t even try it.” Asmo shook his head as he ushered the human into his bedroom. “You passed out in the shower the other day, darling. This is the only time I’m grateful for Mammon’s snooping, because you might still be there if he hadn’t heard you fall.”

They subconsciously touched the sore spot on their shoulder where they had collided with the wall. The pain blended in with the rest of their body aches, but the bruise certainly didn’t.

“Besides,” Asmo sat them down on the chaise lounge. “A nice, hot bath with some quality oils will rejuvenate you like nothing else. Now, go on, strip.”

When they gave him a clearly unamused look, he just laughed. “Not while you’re sick, darling. You know full well being with me requires you to be at peak energy.”

With a sigh, they began peeling themselves out of their days-old pajamas. Admittedly, they did feel like a bath would help them feel a little better. They were pretty sure they read somewhere that the steam from hot water would help clear out all the gunk in their chest. And if anyone knew the intricate rituals of bath time, it was Asmodeus.

While they were stripping, Asmo had made his way over to the Grecian temple that was his bathtub and turned on the tap. After a few moments of running his hand under the stream to test the temperature, he stood and began browsing his impressive collection of bath accoutrements. “Hm, let’s see, let’s see…here it is!”

Asmo turned around, holding up the little bottle like he had just found buried treasure. “Eucalyptus, to help clear out the lungs. It’s good for muscle aches, too!”

With a flourish, he put a few drops into the water. “Alright, ready. Can you get in yourself or do you need my help?”

“I’ve got the flu, not the plague, Asmo.”

“You. Fell. In. The. Shower.” he punctuated each word with a poke to their cheek before holding out his hand to help them. Although they grumbled, they were still feeling kind of weak, so they allowed Asmo to pull them up.

“There, now, easy does it,” he spoke softly as he guided them to sit on the edge of the tub. If this were any other situation, they would be painfully aware of the fact that they were completely naked in front of the Avatar of Lust. But, the fragrant steam rising from the water was beginning to ease the ache in their chest, and Asmo’s soft hands had begun massaging their shoulders. They barely even noticed when they were fully seated.

“You’re not coming in?” they murmured sleepily as Asmo sat himself along the edge of the tub. He just laughed.

“Next time, darling. Now, you just relax and let me take care of you.”

Beelzebub: The phrase “don’t have much of an appetite” just didn’t make sense to Beel. How could someone not want to eat? Maybe he was a bit biased, being the ever-starving Avatar of Gluttony, but still. Humans needed lots of nutrients to get better when they were sick, right? He was pretty sure that was what Satan told him.

Beel scowled, scrolling through the eighteenth listicle about foods to eat when sick. Honestly, he was making himself hungry, but he was starting to get the general idea. Looks like he’s making them some soup.

The kitchen was separated into “human” and “demon” sections, after the one time that they almost used cyanide instead of salt. Human cuisine took less time and involved less magic, so Beel knew his way around the human spice cabinet. Making the soup was the easy part, making sure it got to its intended recipient was another matter.

Climbing the stairs to the human’s room felt like a Herculean task, but he did it - mostly. He may have taken a few bites here and there. But he had purposely put more in the bowl than he knew they would be able to eat, so it was fine, right? He knocked on their door twice, listening to them shuffle around before they finally called out weakly that the door was open.

“I brought food.” he said, shutting the door behind him. “You haven’t been eating much lately.”

They poked their head miserably out of the blanket burrito they had wrapped themselves in. A thin sheen of sweat covered their forehead, but they were shaking, which meant their fever hadn’t broken yet. Did humans always take this long to get better? Another question for Satan.

“I’m not really hungry, Beel.” they mumbled, voice thick and gravelly due to the sore throat they had. “You can eat it.”

Shaking his head, Beel sat himself down on the bed beside them. “I had some already.”

“Have some more.”

“No, I made it for you.” his stomach growled, completely undermining his words. “It’s basically just broth, you can drink it.”

They wiggled around for a bit before they managed to extract themselves from the absolute cocoon they had made. “…What kind of broth?”

“Just chicken, I promise.” he laughed. “I wasn’t about to try to get you to eat a Devildom recipe.”

Finally, they got themselves into a sitting position, but even that seemed to wear them out. They flopped against Beel’s shoulder, and he definitely didn’t like how hot their skin felt against his. Their breathing was ragged as they tried to get the energy to sit up.

“Here,” Beel dipped the spoon into the broth. “I’ll help.”

“I’m not a baby…”

“No, but you are really weak.” he replied gently. “Let me help you.”

He could feel the urge to protest vibrating through their body - their independence was definitely an endearing quality of theirs. But, eventually they must have come to the conclusion that a content of tenacity between the two of them was going to take longer than simply waiting out their illness. With a huff, they opened their mouth and let Beel feed them.

“Oh, wow, this is pretty good.”

“I’m a good cook if I don’t eat the ingredients first.”

Belphegor: “I thought humans slept a lot when they got sick.”

The bags under the human’s eyes were almost as intense as they glare they gave him. When the rest of the brothers had begun arguing over something stupid, Belphegor had taken the opportunity to bundle them up and whisk them away to the peace and quiet of the attic. His intent had been to take a nice long nap with them, but apparently their lungs had a different plan.

“We should,” they groaned, sounding like their throat was made of sandpaper. “Every time I feel like I’m going to fall asleep, I start coughing.”

“That sounds counter-intuitive.”

“Tell me about it.”

Belphie rolled over so that he was lying on his side, facing them. “Well then, you picked a good nap partner.”

They blinked blearily up at him. “Why is that?”

“Come here, I’ll show you.”

He reached out, tugging them towards him until they were settled comfortably against his chest with their head tucked beneath his chin. Although he wasn’t the tallest of the brothers, he had enough height to basically surround the human. “Can you hear my heartbeat?”

“I’m too tired for you cheesy lines, Belphie.”

“No, seriously, just listen.”

He could practically hear them roll their eyes, but they quieted down. Once he was sure they were synced up with the steady ba-bump, ba-bump of his heart, he began to work his magic - literally.

He brought his hand up to cup the back of their skull, fingertips tingling as he focused his magic their. They squirmed for a moment before sighing as the cool rush of Belphie’s special brand of sleep magic washed over them.

“I told you, being tired isn’t the prob - “

“Hush,” he murmured, letting them feel his voice rumble through his chest. “Just relax for me, okay?”

Belphie massaged their scalp like he was washing their hair, working his magic into their skin. Slowly but surely he felt them soften, the tightness in their chest easing. Finally, their slightly labored breathing evened out, and the poor human finally succumbed to sleep.

“About time,” he kissed the top of their head. “You need to rest if you want to get better, so let’s sleep as long as we like, okay?”

#seriously I just kept thinking about them taking care of my while I was sick #because even though I was sick I had to take care of my parents when they ended up getting it #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie

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ceilingfan5 · 3 years

Note

34 or 44 for taakitz?? 👀 for the writing prompts

34--spin the bottle

“I’ve literally never seen or heard of someone playing spin the bottle in real life, Merle. It fuckin’ sounds like something from a Mono prevention commercial or an after school special. Are you serious?” Taako sips at his drink and makes a face.

“Fuck yeah I’m serious!” Merle laughs. “Spin the Bottle is a tradition! It’s like, like Seven Minutes in Heaven!”

“Also fakety fake teenage bullshit, go on.”

“You’re just bitter because you’ve never gotten kissed at a party.”

“I, listen, I don’t know why I’m defending myself here, but I super, super have? You’re just constructing intricate rituals to-”

“I’m offering you the chance to join my intricate rituals and decide where in the circle to sit,” Merle says, winking unsubtly. Taako would protest further, but who should descend into the unfinished basement hell they’ve taken over like a swarm of collegiate parasites but Kravitz fucking McAllister, object of Taako’s affections. Merle elbows him in the side. Taako wishes he was drunker.

“Fine,” his mouth says without him. He slams back his drink and goes to get another one. “Get it started. But I am not, Merle. Merle. Listen to me, Merle. I am not sitting across from you.”

“Coward!” Merle calls, laughing. Taako knows he’s at least sixty percent aware of what all is going on here, and he isn’t quite sure how far to trust him. But if they are going to sit on the sticky cement floor like they’re playing duck duck goose, Taako’s going to get something out of it, or die trying. Considering how shitty the beer is, maybe dying is more on the table than anyone ought to sneeze at.

Maybe duck duck goose would be easier.

Somehow, god knows how, Merle gets at least a dozen idiots into the game, including, to Taako’s absolute disbelief, Kravitz himself. He’s beautiful as ever, wearing something entirely too formal for a basement drinking party, and Taako aches to look at him.

“Hey,” he calls across the circle, trying to be sneaky about sitting directly opposite of him. “Haven’t seen you at the tutoring center this semester. You pass that class?”

“With your help,” Kravitz says, smiling. “I didn’t think it was possible. Actually, it wouldn’t have been possible without you.”

“What can I say,” Taako crows, preening a little. “I do my job once in a while.” Too fucking good, apparently. Is he ever going to have an excuse to see Kravitz again?

The game gets going as the music thrums from upstairs. The bottle spins and Sloane has to kiss Hurley, which involves a whole lot of giggling. Taako rolls his eyes. He wishes they would hurry up and just date each other. Then he goes back to making googoo eyes at Kravitz.

Magnus realizes what kind of game it is and dips. Avi argues about the rules with Merle, and tries to wheedle that the person who spins it gets to kiss whoever it lands on, not the person across from them, which Carey, who ended up across from him when Magnus split, is quick to jump in on. Merle grumps and holds his ground, because he’s incredibly invested in this stupid game, and Taako gets bored and starts trying to blow jingle bells on his nearly-empty beer bottle.

The bottle spins again. Carey and Avi switched places, so Avi gets to kiss Johann, which is wild to watch. Taako didn’t even realize Johann was at the party. The bottle spins again while Taako’s trying to think of another song with only one note, and suddenly everyone is looking at him.

“What,” he says.

“Err,” Kravitz starts. “I believe the bottle is pointing at you and me.”

Taako loses all the air in his cheeks. His bottle makes a very pathetic sound. “Oh.”

Kravitz hesitantly stands. Taako follows suit, and he crosses the circle, definitely kicking the stupid bottle on his way. This dumb game has served its purpose now.

“Maybe, uh, maybe just a quick peck?” Kravitz tries. He rubs his hands on his pants, looking sweaty in his nice outfit.

“Sure,” Taako says lazily, like he isn’t fucking dying to suck on this dude’s tongue. “You start.”

“Keep hesitating and you’re gonna have to-”

“Merle, I will kill you with my laser beams.”

Kravitz smiles slightly. And he leans in. He glances around at the others, looking even more nervous as the clock ticks on.

“Are you sure-”

Taako kisses him. He simply doesn’t have the patience to waffle any longer. And sure, he tastes like the shitty cheap party beer just like Taako does, but kissing him is absolutely incredible. Taako never really got the whole fireworks thing before now, but now he’s ready to start a fuckin’ forest fire up in here. He pulls Kravitz closer, and Kravitz looks a little startled, but instead of pulling away, he kisses him deeper, and Killian wolf-whistles. Taako flips her off, and closes his eyes and leans into the sensation of getting his breath stolen away by the hottest guy he knows.

His lungs are full of stars, and they’re all going supernova in his chest.

He finally pulls away to breathe, and opens his eyes, and Kravitz looks so stunned and heart-eyed that Taako has to laugh.

“You, uh, you good?”

“Super,” Kravitz manages. “Do- do you want to keep playing, or, or, or-”

“Or what?”

“Find a different place to be?”

“Yeah, fuck this duck circle, I’m out. If I haven’t changed my relationship status by the time this party’s over-”

“I hope you’re too busy to be on your phone.” Kravitz smiles at him. Taako blushes hard, he can’t help it.

“You’re fucking welcome,” Merle calls after them as they head upstairs, hand in hand. “Now, who wants to play duck duck goose?”

#taz #taakitz #taz b #taz balance #the adventure zone #the adventure zone balance #fan5fics #thank you!!!!#this is cheesy #long post #alcohol #alcohol cw

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spidernerdsblog · 3 years

Text

Wedding Shenanigans

A/N : Not me using my cousin's wedding as a plot for my fic. This has been sitting in my drafts for a while really didn’t have the nerve to post it. I’m still nervous tbh. Please don’t hate me if it’s bad my over dramatic ass just went a little overboard.

Pairing : Tom Holland x Indian! Reader

Summary : you are back home for your best friend’s wedding and Tom decides to accompany you.

Warnings : just over dramatic crap, sexual innuendos

Mini Playlist : Aa toh sahi, First kiss

(Note- As our country has a vast diversity of languages the italicized dialogues represents whatever native language you speak. I didn’t want to emphasize on a particular language.)

"You sure you wanna tag along?" you try to confirm with him again.

"Yeah I have never attended an Indian wedding before. Moreover I should have an experience you know for future just like Nick Jonas and Priyanka Chopra our grand wedding" he chirped.

"We will be staying at my parent’s house so no room sharing with me"

"What? Not again! But why can't I share a room? I mean your parents do know that we live together"

"Yeah but that's India honey, no sleeping together before marriage"

"I have to sleep all alone at night without you that's not fair" He whined.

"You can share a room with my dad then" you suggested.

"What? No not your dad" he gave a mortified look.

"Why what’s wrong?'' you let out an airy laugh.

"I’m really scared of him" you chuckled at his confession

"What? Don’t laugh at me, he really intimidates me"

"Well he is the only person who will decide to give my hand to you or not, so man up baby"

"And it's just for one night then we will go to the resort where the wedding will take place. And there hopefully we can share a room or you can share a room with Rahul or the other guys. I'll talk to them about it.

"Not that chump!" he immediately protested.

"What is with you and him?" you chuckle.

"When the person is a potential candidate to steal your girl you have to be a little defensive"

"God how many times do I need to tell you that we never had anything between us, he’s just my childhood friend."

"You may not have but I have noticed the last time we went to visit your parents he is always trying to woo you and moreover you parents like him too" he grumbled.

"Aww someone is jealous"

"I’m spiderman. Why would I be jealous? He says defensively, you smirk.

"Ok spiderman pack your things quickly"

You flew back to India the next day, you stayed the night at your parents house before leaving for the resort to attend your best friend’s wedding.

''Y/N!!" Your best friend squealed in excitement as she eagerly hugged you.

"Missed you so much.

"Me too babe. Can’t believe you’re getting married. When did we grow so big?" you pout.

"Hey Y/N"

"Hi Rahul. Missed you so much bro" you hugged him.

"Hey darling let's go to our room shall we? You must be tired" Tom eavesdropped in your conversation.

''Yeah I'm a little"

"Hey man how are you?" Rahul asked.

"I’m good, mate. Will talk to you later."

"Yeah sure, go take some rest" Tom literally dragged you away from him.

"What was that?" you frowned.

"Nothing" He said. You chuckled, shaking your head at your boyfriend’s possessive attitude.

After settling down in your room you went to freshen up. You stepped out of the bathroom drying your with a towel as you informed Tom.

"Okay so tomorrow is haldi"

"What’s that?"

"Well it's a ritual where we apply turmeric paste to both bride and groom, it is said turmeric improves your skin tone. I know it sounds stupid but age old custom so can’t be changed" you continued.

"So don’t wear something expensive as the turmeric stain will be hard to remove. You will be with the guys I have told Rahul everything so you will not have any problem'' he rolls his eyes.

"And please don't end up killing him''

The next morning after the puja was completed your best friend was made to sit on a seat decorated with flowers. As all the married women applied turmeric to her blessing her for a happy married life. Then came all of your turn. And you guys didn't leave a spot, painting her completely yellow.

"Y/N come here let me apply some turmeric so that next will be your turn" a woman offered.

"No thanks I'm fine" you dodged her somehow.

You went back to your room to change, Tom returned as well.

"You guys played quite a holi I see" you comment seeing his face and kurta painted yellow.

"Yeah but why didn’t you put that?

"I'll only apply only when it has been touched by my husband on my wedding day"

"Well I can help you with that" he backed you up against the wall caging you and slowly leaned down. You felt butterflies in your stomach as his face inched closer to yours, you thought he was going for a kiss as you parted your lips instead he tilted to the side brushing his cheek to yours and he did the same thing with your other cheek.

"There you go" he maneuvered you to face the mirror and you saw turmeric paste on your cheeks.

"Tom! Seriously? I thought-" you huff

"What did you think darling?" He whispers with a sultry voice.

"Nothing!"

"Someone is horny" He chuckles.

"Shut up you dickhead!" you snapped.

"But weren't you thinking about my dick in the first place?" He teases to annoy you even more.

"Ugh!! you know what Rahul is much better than you!" saying so you ran inside the bathroom shutting the door.

"What? What did you say?" he heard your giggles from inside.

Later in the day you were in the community hall of the resort with your friends discussing your dance performances.

"Guys we can’t let the groom’s side win do you get that?" you state.

"Chill Y/N we are gonna set the stage on fire"

"So what songs are we gonna perform? And please no bole chudiyan" you quip.

"Dilli wali girlfriend?" one of them suggested.

"Yeah that will definitely be kept for the end other than that?"

"Cutipie?"

"Nah"

"Deedar de? Odhani? Sawan mein lag gayi aag?" Everyone suggested in a chorus, someone even suggested ooh la la.” you facepalmed at the chaos.

"Guys are you planning to seduce those pot bellied bald uncles and middle aged judgemental aunties over there?" everyone went silent as you continued

"No right? So please something sober and fun. These songs can be played in the after party when the main event is over"

"Morni banke?" someone suggested.

"See now you’re getting it" After a lot of discussion finally you all agreed on some songs and started to choreograph the dance steps. Your eyes went to your boyfriend whom you had completely forgotten in the middle of this.

"You’re getting bored right? I’m so sorry babe this why I said you should pass this one out"

"Hey no I’m fine plus I kind of figured out a little of your conversation, you are talking of some kind of dance competition"

"Wow you are improving I’m so proud of you. And yes you’re right tomorrow we have sangeet at night and it’s a dance off bride vs groom and we are gonna smash them"

"Oh you will, darling. How much of an aggressive competitor you’re no one knows better than me" He chuckles.

"Hey! I’m not aggressive" you protest.

"Do I need to remind you of the one time you were literally about to throw the controller at the tv screen after you lost a match of fortnite?"

"Okay in my defense you cheated" you narrowed your eyes.

"No I didn't," He says haughtily.

"Yes you did, you distracted me-" you argue back.

"What did I do baby?" His voice was low as you remembered about the distraction he caused.

"Uh never mind" you stutter all flustered.

"Hey Y/N c’mon let’s practise" Rahul called you.

"What’s he gonna do?" Tom frowned.

"He’s my dance partner, I would have asked you but you don’t understand the lyrics well so"

"Yeah yeah I get it, now go" He said rolling his eyes.

You began to practice the dance for the sangeet it went on for sometime. But later everyone got bored to dancing to the same song so random songs were played

Sun baby deadly hai teri walk ni

Tere thumke bhi karte hai talk ni

Ho dil kare dekhi jaun teri ore

Tu nazre mila toh sahi

Dil diya hai jaan bhi tujhe denge

Tu ik vaari aa toh sahi

Dil diya hai jaan bhi tujhe denge

Tu nazre mila toh sahi

Tu ik vari aa to sahi

You started to move your hips sensually as Rahul joined you too. His hands went to wrap around your waist which made Tom uncomfortable as his face tensed up. You were laughing and giggling unaware of Tom watching you with a pointed look as you both were getting too close to his liking. You looked over your shoulder to find a very displeased Tom. An idea crossed your mind as you waltzed your way to him.

Kab mummy daddy mere tu patayega

Leke band baja ghar mere aayegaKab tak mujhe aise hi ghumayega

Tu baat badha to sahi

Dil diya hai jaan bhi tujhe denge

Tu ik vaari aa toh sahi

Dil diya hai jaan bhi tujhe denge

Tu nazre mila toh sahi

Tu ik vari aa to sahi

Grabbing his hand you pulled him to the center your friends hooted and whistled. You began to dance around him and nudge his shoulder playfully before lacing your hands around his neck pulling him closer to you. You turn around your back pressed against his broad chest as you take his hands and place them around your waist and continue to sway against each other.

............

Next day your best friend was sitting in the courtyard surrounded by all the ladies. The mehendi artist drew beautiful and intricate patterns on her hand with the henna.

You and your girl gang got ready to perform for the occasion as the song ‘mehndi hai rachne wali’ started to play in the background. You all danced to the song gracefully. After the performance you all also got your mehendi done.

"Tom! Tom! Where is my food?!" You yell sitting on your bed with wet henna on your hands.

"Wait a minute my hungry devil" Tom comes with your plate of food.

"Seriously you just can’t wait for a few minutes" He huffs sitting next to you.

"I’m so lucky to have such a sweet and caring boyfriend" you gush.

"Yeah yeah, now open your mouth" You do as he says. He brings the spoon near your mouth to pull it away immediately and eat the food himself.

"Tom!" You protest, he stifles a laugh. This is a nice punishment for you now cannot work your hands.

"Yeah very funny, don’t talk to me" You turn your face away from him annoyed.

"Hey I’m sorry, here take" He holds the spoon in front of you as you open your mouth to eat but that little fucker does it again going into a fit of laughter.

"You!!" You lift your hands to hit him.

"Ah, ah love don’t think of it or your artwork will only get ruined" He chuckles as you huff in defeat.

"Okay now c’mon, this time no pranks I promise" You frowned at him still dubious but this time he finally fed you.

"You know they write the name or initial of your husband in this. I made the lady write your initial, think you can find it?" you looked at him with a playful expression.

"Is that a challenge, love?"

"Well maybe" you shrug.

"Then I fucking accept it!" He gets on to search through the intricate patterns drawn on your hand but soon he realized it was hard than he thought as he frowned.

"Don’t worry baby you have the whole day, you’ll find it eventually I suppose" You snicker.

Later in the evening the sangeet ceremony took place and as expected you guys won the dance off. After all the elders and children were done having their dinner and retreated to their rooms, the younger lot of you as decided earlier had your own kind of mini bachelor’s party with everyone ending up drunk. The boys were dancing on to some peppy bollywood item number, later you and your girlfriends took the stage as the music continued to play.

Ae Yo, Ae Yo

Seene Se Laga Ke Baahon Mein

Mujhe Le Lo

Jaldi Hai Kaisi

I Like It Nice And Slow

Your body swayed sensually as the guys hollered and cheered you girls with a few whistles.

Meri Heart Beat Fast

Aur Sab Lage Mujhe Slo-mo

Mujhe Slow-mo

I Want You Right Now

I Need You Right Now Come

You stretched your hand pointing your finger directly to your boyfriend motioning him to get up and come to you. He obliged with a smirk plastered on his face and strided towards you.

Hassa Hassa Ke Gaya Fasa

Tu Toh Dil Mera

Nasha Nasha Tera Chadha Nasha

Jab Dekha Chehra Tera

Meri Life Mein Yun Kar Gaya Kyun

Har Din Love Wala Season Tu

What You Gonna Do?

Jo Main Keh Du

Meri Heart Beat Ka Reason Tu

His hands rested on your hips as he knelt down to ear and whispered

"You really do like it nice and slow don’t you love?" you elbowed him playfully.

‘‘Fuck off!!’’

‘‘Ow!’’ He groaned chuckling.

…….

It was your bestie's big day as you were getting ready for it putting on your saree.

"Tom can you help me with the pleats of my saree please"

"Sure darling" He squats down to gather the silky material of your saree, you smoothen the pleats as he holds them in place.

"Thanks hun" You tuck in the pleats inside your underskirt securing them with a pin.

"Anytime sweetheart" He stands up on his feet smiling.

You went on to do your makeup and were busy putting on your jhumkas when Tom’s eyes went to your reflection in the mirror. And boy he was mesmerised, you looked unearthly. He slowly walked to you resting his chin on your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your waist, the sweet scent of the jasmine flowers pinned to your hair intoxicating his senses.

"You look so gorgeous, darling."

"Well thank you, love. You look no less handsome either" And it was so true he actually looked like a snack in that designer kurta. You turned to face him gazing into his soft brown eyes. There was a certain kind of flicker in his eyes which you knew all too well though you were tempted to give in but attending your best friend’s wedding was also important so you brought your hands in front of his face and shook your bangles the jingling sound broke him out of his trance as he shook his head, blinking his eyes owlishly.

"Now who’s horny huh?" You teased.

"Shut up!" His face turned red all flustered.

"Aww it’s ok baby boy" You tease him even more.

"You’re so in for it later, Y/N" He warns playfully.

"Will see" You winked mischievously "Now c’mon let’s go" you walked out hand in hand towards the dias where the wedding nuptials were to be performed but had to stop on your tracks when you saw a group of aunties coming your way.

"Oh no! Aunties incoming just smile and greet them" You direct Tom warily.

"Do I need to touch their feet?" He asks nervously as you frown.

"No! That’s too much respect they deserve"

"Y/N how are you?" One of them asked. "You’ve grown so big! You remember me right?" Another lady badgered you with more questions.

"I’m fine, how are you all?" You gave a broad smile as you yourself were confused who the hell they are.

"Everything is going fine for us. So happy Y/F/N is finally going to happily settle in her life, so when is your turn huh?" You gave a tight lipped smile having no clue what to answer.

"You know my sister’s son is in the government sector, a really nice boy and earns a very handsome salary you know if you want-" you cut her off immediately.

"Umm aunty, meet my boyfriend Tom"

"Hello'' Tom greets them timidly.

"Oh hello-’’ she looked at him with a judgy face okay you kids enjoy then, let me see if anything is needed there or not"

"Yeah sure"

"What was she saying?" Tom asked curiously.

"Nothing just trying to set me up with one of her relative’s weird nerdy son"

"What the-!!"

"Relax she got her answer which is a clear no. Now let’s go and see the wedding" You went near the dais and observed all the rituals take place one by one. It was the time for walking around the fire for seven times as your best friend and her husband stood up and started revolving around the fire while you showered flowers on them along with everyone.

"Why are they circling around the fire?"

"It’s quite similar to exchanging vows you see, the bride and groom promise each other to be together for seven lifetimes with the sacred fire as witness" you explained, Tom nods his head in understanding when something went through his mind.

"Y/N let’s get married" Tom says out of nowhere taking you by surprise.

"What?" You chuckle lightly.

"I'm serious Y/N, let's just get married like right now. I mean everything is set, you are dressed no less than a bride and I’m looking handsome as hell and we have a priest right there"

"Ok Tom, I totally get what you’re saying. But honey, I don’t see a ring" you showed him your empty ring finger scrunching your face.

..............................................................................

Tagging some desi peeps I know here

@peaches-parker @parkerpeterparker2004 @lokibuckylove6 @calltothewild

@mischiefmanaged011 @parker--peter @starlight-starks

sorry if I bothered you.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland x reader #tom holland one shot #desi tumblr

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dying-suffering-french-stalkers · 3 years

Note

For the ship game: prime numbers for Lupin x Jigen!

HERE YOU GO GHOST, THIS WAS FIVE PAGES IN A GOOGLE DOC AND TOOK ME SEVERAL HOURS

Under a cut, allegedly, though mobile has been known to just IGNORE THAT. Sorry in advance if this gets goofed for anyone.

2) Who is always horny and will have sex at any time, in any place?

Lupin, obviously (and canonically). Just the horniest man you ever did see. Jigen knows what he wants and when he wants it, but he has difficulty keeping up with Don Juan Triumphant over there. Lupin is also far less picky about locations and times than Jigen is. Jigen still has a FEW standards, thank you, and also a stronger sense of self-preservation. Lupin sometimes tries to start shit in public or during a heist and Jigen is like “I REALLY, REALLY APPRECIATE THE SENTIMENT BUT CAN WE NOT.” The closest to public anything Jigen will put up with is bar bathroom/back-alley hookups, and he doesn’t really tend to do that with Lupin or Goemon since they have secondary locations far more suited to such activity (or at least the damn Fiat, if nothing else). That said, Jigen is a spiteful bastard and gets a huge kick out of riling Lupin up over the walkie-talkie during jobs. He is more than happy to get jumped by his boss after they make it out and secure the loot.

3) Who is more into taking showers/baths together? Who tries to make it relaxing and who tries to make it sexy time?

Honestly, while I can totally see Lupin and Jigen doing this with their other partners, I have a harder time imagining the two of them doing this together and I’m not sure why. I feel like these two on their own both like the privacy bathing gives them, whether it’s to clean wounds or decompress from a job.

On the occasions when they do bathe together, I feel like it’s an unspoken kind of thing, where the other person quietly slips in the tub/shower with them and they just don’t bother protesting. I think Lupin is more likely to join Jigen in his bathing, but if Jigen is sleepy enough or lonely enough he might do the same. There is a lot of mutual appreciation of scars. They’ve definitely smoked in the tub before (Intricate Rituals™). Lupin is probably more likely to get handsy, because Lupin, but two can play that game if Jigen is feeling it, and also Jigen gives Lupin a run for his money in the staring department. No hat to hide behind now.

Lupin has also 100% done the whole “Hey Jigen, do you know if—stop screaming, it’s me—do you know if we have any more instant dashi? Goemon’s gonna slice up the sofa if I ruin soba night again.”

5) Who sleeps on the couch when they get into a fight?

Jigen, but to be fair, he canonically sleeps on the couch most nights (possibly to keep an eye on the door, possibly because he knows that place, at least, is always “acceptable” for him to occupy). It’s an odd night if you don’t see Jigen out there with a glass and a bottle of scotch and an old movie on TV. The main difference is that if he and Lupin have been fighting, he won’t bother with the formality of a glass and the TV will be playing far louder or not at all.

7) [A] Who said “I love you” first? And [B] who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?

I hate to take the coward’s way out here, but I think the answers are A) either one - depends on the headcanon/fic/version of the characters I’m feeling that day, and B) both.

For A, they’re both the sort of people to show their love—true love/affection, not just flirtation/infatuation, LUPIN—in action, not words. Lupin is a man of many words to a fault, generous with his verbal and physical affection, so Lupin has to find a way to make sure Jigen knows he means it and how he means it. He may rightly fear that Jigen won’t believe him (or else believe him but take it platonically) if he says “I love you” to his face, so first he’ll show him through every little action he can. Jigen is a man of few words to a fault, so saying personal stuff like that out loud is both a last resort and the point of no return. Getting him to say it at all, unambiguously, and while sober is like pulling teeth. Once one of them finally spits it out, though, I think the other is quick to reciprocate (again, if they manage to say it clearly and under good circumstances and not ambiguously/while drunk or wounded/etc. They’re both idiots and selective cowards so this is a big if). The mutual relief is palpable and immediately followed by sex, because they’re both (horny) idiots and selective cowards who do not want to talk about Emotions and Personal Things any more than strictly necessary.

For B, ohhhh man, if it isn’t that same emotional avoidance coming to bite them in the asses! Looks like talking about deep emotions is strictly necessary after all! You know it’s a Big Important Argument for them if this is what it comes to. This is going to tie in somewhat to the answers for 11, 17, and 23, so stay tuned. “Because I love you” coming from either of them should give the other pause, but if they are angry enough, they’re both quite likely to storm off after that declaration anyway. They’ll come back and have a real discussion later, but the shock or frustration of that arresting declaration dropped in the middle of an argument is something neither of them are great at dealing with. Hearing that from Jigen might be enough to stop Lupin in his tracks, but Lupin might also be so dead-set on something that he’ll steamroll right over it even if he knows he’ll regret it later. Hearing that from Lupin probably only makes Jigen angrier because of his awful self-esteem (see answers 11 and 23), and even if he’s been working on that, his instinct will be to snarl “Yeah, right” and storm out the door. I like to think that one day they are able to get to the heart of the argument sooner (because this is almost always it) and work on the behaviors that worry the other so much, but alas, they are a mess.

11) Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?

Once again, either of them depending on the day.

As you mentioned in your JiGoe post, Jigen says it partly because he thinks it’s funny (“You have a crush on me, Boss? Fuckin’ embarrassing”) but also because he’s fishing for validation. His self-esteem/confidence in anything outside his shooting skills is shit and he still can’t quite believe that Lupin isn’t lying/he hasn’t conned Lupin into something. This is rather overestimating his conning skills and underestimating his many good qualities, but, well, genuine, lasting affection is kinda new for him. Much to Jigen’s annoyance, Lupin figures out exactly what Jigen’s up to after the first few times and answers him seriously (and positively) instead of continuing the “joke”. Lupin loses patience for this particular tactic over time but I like to think that Jigen finally begins believing in the affection, too, so it comes up less and less and one day Jigen might actually play the quip straight without the self-deprecation. Ideally he would just take the damn compliment, but it’s LupJig and banter is one of their love languages.

When Lupin says it, he typically is playing the quip straight and fondly giving Jigen shit for showing an Emotion and motherFUCKER I just realized Jigen could probably be considered a tsundere. I hate this. ANYWAY. Jigen then immediately snarks back that yes, Lupin, considering we’ve been travelling the world together and actively fucking for X years, it’d be damn awkward if I didn’t by now.

13) Who initiates duets? and who is the better singer?

Lupin absolutely initiates duets, or rather, he tries to; whether or not Jigen actually chimes in is another matter entirely. Lupin is also the better singer by far (when he’s sober). He loves singing along to pop and rock in the car (“This is the reason God invented America!”).

Much as it would please me personally to give Jigen a smooth operatic baritone, there’s no way in hell he sounds good after smoking a pack a day for twenty-something years. I think Jigen can carry a tune and he’s a decent hummer and whistler, but his singing voice isn’t spectacular.

Lupin occasionally succeeds in getting Jigen to join him in car karaoke, though as in all things, Lupin is much louder and more impassioned. Jigen frequently hums along under his breath, though, and Lupin loves hearing Jigen’s a cappella renditions of classical music (complete with hand motions).

When Queen starts becoming popular, car singalongs become much more involved because it’s MY silly headcanon and You Are Not Immune To Queen. Jigen cried the first time he heard “Bohemian Rhapsody” and he will kill Lupin if he ever tells Goemon or, God forbid, Fujiko. When the four of them are in the car it’s a full-on Wayne’s World headbanging party. (Pops is the drunk guy they pick up along the way. Also, seeing Payless Shoe Source in this clip dealt me psychic damage.)

Lupin and Jigen (and Goemon) are the living embodiment of the drunk friends singing “Sweet Caroline” post, and Jigen is specifically this version of “Sweet Caroline”.

17) Who is more protective?

THAT IS THE QUESTION, HUH, GHOST? Jigen’s job and, to a certain degree, raison d’être is protecting Lupin, but (to cheat slightly and quote your own DM to me), if you think Lupin won’t raze everything to the ground to keep Jigen (and the others) safe, you don’t know him at all. They are this meme to the deepest of faults. They are both so desperately afraid of losing what they have (and in Lupin’s case, this is tinged with a bonus, even more concerning “what is his”) that they will go full self-sacrificing, scorched-earth policy. This is, in fact, my favorite reason for Lupin to do the worst thing he does: fake his own death to protect his partners. Lupin never stops to think that maybe, JUST MAYBE, he should trust his partners to fake grief and keep the secret long enough for whoever’s on their tail to give up or let their guard slip. Lupin is willing to hurt them in an effort to protect them, so in that way, I suppose Lupin is the “most” “protective”. Jigen’s self-abasement to the point of unhesitating and perhaps even hasty sacrifice is painful, too, but Jigen would never dare go to the same level of deception (except in Goodbye, Partner, apparently? But 1) I haven’t watched it yet and 2) while awful, I still feel like fake betrayal pales in comparison to very convincingly (AND MAYBE REPEATEDLY) faked death).

19) Who drives and who has the window seat?

They split driving duties, but Lupin genuinely loves driving and Jigen is more than happy to prop his feet on the Fiat’s dashboard and smoke or sleep the hours away.

23) Who thinks they are not good enough for the other’s love? and who’s more afraid of losing the other? Who thinks they keep messing up, only for the other to tell them they don’t need to worry?

HERE WE GO AGAIN!!! I think the answer to all of these is ultimately Jigen, but that’s not to say Lupin doesn’t share the exact same worries.

Jigen has a very difficult time believing that his partners’ love is genuine, and since Lupin is the one he knew first, that’s where it first manifests. Jigen has had very, very few good romantic connections in his life (if any). He doesn’t know what Lupin could possibly see in an older, prickly hired killer with a drinking problem and a head full of demons. He’s willing to believe that Lupin keeps him around for his skills, for protection, and for sex, sure, but anything past that? Doubtful. This ties into the other two parts of the question: Jigen is afraid that if he fails in his sharpshooting or his protection, he will be cut out of the gang, or worse, Lupin will end up dead because Jigen slipped up. As mentioned in question 17, Jigen cannot bear to lose Lupin and he would never forgive himself if he believed it was somehow his fault. Accordingly, Jigen takes “failure” that exceeds his usual margin of error very seriously in the early days. Later, he is better about this, but the worst-case scenario still stands.

Lupin, on the other hand, has had plenty of romantic connections, some good, some bad, though it is perhaps telling that Fujiko is his longest romantic relationship other than Jigen. He is afraid that if he doesn’t put on the world’s greatest show at all times, no one will give a rat’s ass about some scrawny grandson of an old French thief (or the perhaps unwanted/disliked son of a ruthless crime lord, because I love that fanon for Lupin the Second). He must live up to and indeed surpass the previous Lupins, he must shower his partners in money and adventure, he must always, always come out on top no matter how south the plan goes, or else what is the point of him? It takes time for him to turn his persona off for more than a few seconds, to let the quieter, sometimes contemplative side that slips through the cracks come to rest out in the open. Years down the road, Jigen finally gets up the courage and the words to tell Lupin that he would love him no matter what he did or where he went, even if that was nothing and nowhere. And again, see question 17 re: losing Jigen.

29) Who does some crazy stunt to try and impress the other and who ends up driving them to the emergency room after it backfires?

Lupin is by far the most guilty of this. He’s constantly pulling dumb shit, whether that be for World-Renowned Gentleman Thief reasons or just He May Be Stupid reasons. Case in point: the tunnel scene in The First, after which Jigen was duly impressed. Fortunately for Lupin, Lady Luck must be head over heels for him because the bastard keeps surviving, but sometimes even she can’t save him from medical consequences. Jigen bulk-ordered “Stupid Hurts” band-aids specifically for Lupin. Jigen’s bad choices are more likely to literally backfire on him, but Goemon more than makes up for Jigen’s slack in the Crazy Stunt department.

#I CARE THEY #hope this is comprehensible bc i honestly cannot tell #i have many thoughts on these two human disasters #lupin iii #jigen #asks #the-golden-ghost #long post #meta #I GUESS #can you believe i wrote five pages of meta about 1970s comedy anime characters? fucking hell. i love this fandom.#ship meme

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hello-imasalesman · 2 years

Text

Chapter 3 notes (behind the cut, contains spoilers for the chapter, in chronological order)

-I’ve seen people note Gord’s line about “I wonder when Derby will return the money he borrowed” as Derby being secretly poor. This is not how truly rich people work. If anything this cements the fact that Derby has fuck you money. It literally means nothing to him. He’ll forget about returning it the same way you forget to return a pen you borrowed. He both realizes the power of money but not, you know, truly realizes bc hes never been without.

-i keep referencing gta and rdr locations but i feel like i ought to include something with manhunt next chapter, if only to reference jimmy’s father…. :\ jk. (actually, it would now just be referencing one of r* other forgotten children properties, alongside the warriors and uh. Ping pong? )

- derby secretly loathes his birthday as much as he tries to hype it up every year because it’s never been about him. it’s an excuse for his parents to throw a very big party and rub elbows. he’s always just the sad little clown in the corner.

-tad’s father makes sure to take off all his rings before he hits him

-I know there’s a difference between oceans and bays but I’m going to just hand wave and say Bullworth is settled on a bay inlet of the ocean or, whatever, y’know.

-I LOVE PINKY!!! Finally get to introduce her in. I realllly debated on noticeably changing her hair but tbh that kind of sharp bob was still popular until like, 2012 or 13? And for some girls who loved the kate gosselin look took them into 15 so I’ll let it slide

-this () close to have made Tad wear a birthday boy crown or smthng

-pinky and bif have dealing w derby Harrington solidarity. it is 2022 we are not fridging our cousin wives.

-however you knoooow pinky gets white girl wasted. one may think this is a defamation of character if they did not know how much fondness i have for people getting white girl wasted, though admittedly my tolerance now is going into bar bathrooms like its a petting zoo and handing out hair ties. Also Pinky honestly strikes me as a “good” teen, she hasn’t been skimming off the top of her parents liquor cabinet like Derby has for years so she does get hit hard :’)

-being introduced to someone and hitting them back with an “I’m aware of them” just makes me laugh my ass off. It’s so Derby. He has never done anything wrong in his life, ever, and I know this and I love him.

- initially i had a scene from derby’s POV where him and Bif sneak off downstairs and neck before coming back to the mean-spirited bryce joke/ pinky spill. I removed it for a number of reasons (and will probably post it along w a few other b-sides once this is all done) but the biggest being— there’d be no way to do it from his POV and not mention the ring box in his pocket. And i thought ending that little snapshot of Derby being pressed against the wall by Bif and feeling the box digging into his ass from his back pocket didn’t have the same jus as just having it fall out later during the bathroom confrontation

-also had bryce and chad’s little play wrestle initially mapped as ‘intricate rituals’

- speaking of, completely forgot until I did a re-listen of the preps lines why I always thought Bryce and Chad were a thing. Tad says “oh heard chad and Bryce wrestling the other day you know how they are” (ad libbed) and I that’s so ravened @ the screen. Thanks Tad this is why you’re my favorite prep (that I am absolutely walloping on sorry Tad)

- “oh… oh.” “Yeah, ‘oh’.”

-the Bryce scene was one of the first I wrote after this entire fic idea came to me. uuuurrghhhhlhlh. poor bryce.

-on a parting note, all of the chapters are seasonal. end of endless summer, fall, winter. the next two are prom, and spring. (with an epilogue, the last summer, planned)

#left hand man

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i-am-not-a-who-i-am-a-what · 3 years

Text

there was a moment from yesterday’s episode that set off so many alarm bells in my head and i haven’t seen anyone talking about it yet so i’m going to get my thoughts out there. i’m putting the majority of this post under a readmore bc it got very long thanks to all the transcript quotes i pulled but i really want to know what everyone else thinks about the Implications™

BASIRA

Okay. So… what do we know about Hill Top Road?

ARCHIVIST

Not much.

BASIRA

Another blind spot?

ARCHIVIST

No, it’s – I could look at it, but it… it was… it was like a… a hole. You know that feeling you get when you look down from a, a great height, like you’re being pulled into the abyss?

BASIRA

Kind of?

ARCHIVIST

[Getting lost in thought] Well it was… was like that. Normally I can see it, see the… webs, and feel the power of The Spider emanating from it, but… as I would look… it’s like my mind…. follows the paths of The Web,

[STATIC RISES]

the strands going down and… out… [Catching self] It’s quite disorientating.

[STATIC FADES]

my first thought after hearing this exchange was “huh, that sounds eerily similar to the description of the table the not-them was trapped in.” here it is from mag 3 - across the street:

I’d become enraptured by the table on which he’d placed my tea. It was an ornate wooden thing, with a snaking pattern of lines weaving their way around towards the centre. The pattern was hypnotic and shifted as I watched it, like an optical illusion. I found my eyes following the lines towards the middle of the table, where there was nothing but a small square hole.

my first instinct was that this was some foreshadowing for jon meeting some kind of horrible fate, because well... remember what happened the last time someone got mesmerized by the table?

SASHA

Oh, hey. I’ve found… I’ve found that table you were talking about. Don’t really see what all the fuss is about. Just a… basic… optical illusion. Nothing special… just… just a… wait…

[Hushed and panicked] Jon! Jon, I think there’s someone here. Hello? I see you. Show yourself!

but then i started thinking more about why the table specifically would be referenced, and i remembered the earliest we see it used as artifact of the web, and where: with raymond fielding in hill top road in mag 59 - recluse:

On Sunday evenings, however, we’d all gather for the evening meal, and before we sat down to eat, he would remove the bright white tablecloth that covered it, and we’d gather around the dark wood. I remember it was carved in all sorts of strange swirling designs and patterns. It felt like if you picked a line, any line, you could follow it through to the center, to some deep truth, if only your eye could keep track of the strands that had caught it.

it was while i was checking the transcripts to find the above quote that i also remembered the hole in center of the table that the web pattern leads towards wasn’t always empty - it used to contain a box, and that box contained an apple.

again from again from mag 59:

The center of the table looked, at first, like it was simply part of the wooden top, but if you looked closely, as I did so often, you could see an outline marking the very middle as a small, square box, carved with patterns just like the ones that laced their way over the rest of the table. I don’t remember how long we sat around the table those evenings, nor do I have any memory of what we might have eaten.

...

I reached over and pulled the wooden square from the center of the table. On its own, it appeared to be a small wooden box, and the lid opened smoothly, as my hands moved in a practiced motion. Inside was an apple, green and fresh and still wet with morning dew.

I knew I was going to eat it. I could feel tears desperately trying to push themselves out of my eyes, but I instead decided not to cry. I placed the box down on the table, reached over, and picked up the apple.

the box from the center of the table makes its first appearance in the very first hill top road statement, mag 8 - burned out, where we learn that apparently the apple was full of spiders.

considering the web’s predilection for filling it’s victim’s bodies with spiders (carlos vittery, annabell cane, the spider husks trevor encountered, the victim of the chelicerae website, the old woman in annabell’s statement, francis, etc.) i think this goes a ways to explain what happened to raymond’s other victims, and what would have happened to mag 59′s statement giver if he’d bitten into the apple:

They lay still now, wrapped in their sticky cocoons. Their bodies seemed warped and bloated in a way I didn’t recognize. But that’s only because at that point in my life, I had never before seen a spider egg sac.

more importantly though, we also learn that the box was buried under the burnt up tree in hill top road’s garden, the one whose uprooting was implied to be linked to agnes’s death:

STATEMENT

At that moment I made my decision. It was easy, like destroying this tree was the only thing to do, the only path to follow ... When the tree lay on its side, uprooted and powerless, I gazed into the hole where it had sat and noticed something lying there in the dirt.

Climbing down, I retrieved what turned out to be a small wooden box, about six inches square, with an intricate pattern carved along the outside. Engraved lines covered it, warping and weaving together, making it hard to look away.

...

ARCHIVIST

Except… We cannot prove any connection, but Martin unearthed a report on an Agnes Montague, who was found dead in her Sheffield flat on the evening of November 23rd 2006, the same day Mr. Lensik claims to have uprooted the tree.

and keep in mind that the only reason the statement giver in mag 59 didn’t eat the apple, didn’t succumb to the web... was agnes’s kiss:

As the man in the suit told me to follow him in a clipped BBC accent, Agnes walked over, and gestured for me to lean down and listen to her. I did so, but instead of a conspiratorial whisper, she just gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, then ran off down the hall.

...

All at once, my cheek erupted in pain. It was like someone had pressed a hot branding iron into my face, and I could swear that I heard the flesh sizzle as I let out a scream and fell to my knees. I raised my hands to my face and realized in that moment two very important things. The first is that my face seemed to be untouched; I could feel no injury or burn. The second was that raising my hand had been a truly voluntary act. I had willed it myself, and whatever power had been gripping me, tugging me into its web, I was free of it.

at this point you’re probably wondering why i think all this is relevant in terms of what might happen with hill top road, and i have two potential ideas:

my first idea has to do with the theory that agnes is lingering on as a ghost. this theory isn’t mine, i first encountered it shortly after mag 167 - curiosity aired through this post’s attempt to fix what bits of the timeline were thrown out of wack by the new info. if anyone has any other posts or general thoughts about this theory feel free to share them, i’d love to read them!

this theory is relevant to my speculation that agnes might finally make an appearance because she might have been the ghost seen by one of the statement givers in mag 100 - i guess you had to be there:

MARTIN

Right. Right.

[THROAT CLEARING]

Statement of Lynne Hammond, er, recorded 2nd of May 2017, regarding…

Uh, what, what’s this one about?

LYNNE

I saw a ghost.

MARTIN

O-kay.. Regarding a… a ghost. Statement begins.

who appeared as one of the cultists in mag 190 - scavengers:

MARTIN

[Puzzled] Celia?

CELIA

Probably. The, um… place I was trapped in, they took my name. I never got it back. But I like Celia, so… yeah! Celia it is.

MARTIN

Uh… H-Hello… Celia.

and was recognized and directly confirmed to be the same person by martin in mag 191 - what we lose:

MARTIN

…

Hey, I meant to ask. Do you recognise that woman, Celia?

ARCHIVIST

Um… no, I, I don’t think so. Why?

MARTIN

I’d swear she gave a statement once.

having her only pop up in mag 190 would have just been a fun easter egg, but having martin directly call out her presence the next episode sounds to me like jonny telling the audience to pay attention, to remember that her statement had to do with the ghost of a young woman on fire who might have been agnes.

my second idea involves web lighter.

over various statements throughout the previous four seasons we’ve been shown that the web and the desolation have been at war, and hill top road has been their battlefield. the best examples of this come from mag 139 - chosen and mag 149 - infectious doubts respectively.

on the one hand we have agnes being planted in hill top road by the cult of the lightless flame in an effort to both control her powers and derail the web’s plans, which seems to begin the conflict:

The compromise we came to was Hill Top Road. We knew it was a stronghold of the Web, full of other children Agnes’ age. We would supervise from a distance, but were confident she would be in no danger. The Mother of Puppets has always suffered at our hand; all the manipulation and subtle venom in the world means nothing against a pure and unrestrained force of destruction and ruin.

and on the other we have the web binding gertrude to agnes, thus thwarting the desolation’s ritual, which also involved hill top road:

ARTHUR

Alright. Agnes. How’d you do it? Never did understand it, not really.

GERTRUDE

Ah. That’s a fair enough question. It was the Web. I didn’t know it at the time, of course, and I would call it an accident, but it never is, with them. It’s only after the fact that you can see all the subtle manipulations

...

So, I began researching what I thought was a counter-ritual of sorts. Like I said, I was young, naive. I somehow found just the right books, made just the right connections, and even got what I thought was a piece of blind good luck when I found a tin box in the ashes of Hill Top Road, containing some perfectly preserved cuttings of her hair.

wouldn’t it seem symbolic, fitting with the dream logic we’ve been working with all season (and that the fears have always tended to work with), if what ended the metaphysical war was an artifact touched by both the web and the desolation?

say perhaps... a device that creates fire while being marked by a symbol of the spider? one that just so happened to be delivered to the institute at the same time as a certain table?

TIM

Er, what is it?

ARCHIVIST

A lighter. An old Zippo.

TIM

You smoke?

ARCHIVIST

No. And I don’t allow ignition sources in my archive!

TIM

Okay. Is there anything unusual about it?

ARCHIVIST

Not really. Just a sort of spider web design on the front. Doesn’t mean anything to me. You?

TIM

Ah no. No.

ARCHIVIST

Well… show it to the others, see what they think. You said there was something else as well?

TIM

Oh, ah yes, yeah, it was sent straight to the Artefact Storage, a table of some sort. Ah, looks old. Quite pretty, though. Fascinating design on it.

all signs point to the best hope of escaping whatever plans the web has for jon lying with the desolation, or at least with fire, and who should be waiting in hill top road than someone who’s been known to burn statements in the past... and someone who, as of mag 162 - a cozy cabin, was the last person to mention the lighter:

MARTIN

So, should we destroy it? Before we go?

[THE CABIN CREAKS VERY LOUDLY.]

ARCHIVIST

I honestly don’t know if we can.

[HE SIGHS.]

MARTIN

Mm.

ARCHIVIST

Besides, there’s – far worse out there. Better to try and avoid it, I think.

MARTIN

We’re not even gonna try? Look, we’ve got your lighter; maybe if we just –

i haven’t even begun to touch on the multiple instances of spiral marked individuals interacting with hill top road, or the potential role of the rift leading from the world without the institute to the reality with the institute from mag 114 - cracked foundations, or the foreshadowing we’ve gotten throughout this season that the archive might be destroyed by fire and how it’s looking more and more like that means jon might die, or the significance of the tapes and what power might be behind them...

but it’s nearing five in the morning where i am and i’ve been working on this frankly gargantuan post since about midnight, so i’m going to let more meta-inclined minds take it from here. tell me what you think! where do you agree with me, where do you think i’ve gone astray? hell, tell me if you think i’m just spinning my wheels, this is the first real theory post i’ve ever made so i might be completely off base, at least i tried lol.

tl;dr:

the call back to the imagery surrounding the web table and its long history with hill top road and the desolation is leading me to believe that whatever plans the web has in hill top road for jon, fire is going to have a significant role in whether or not the web gets what it wants; either agnes herself might finally make an appearance or the web lighter might finally come into play.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma spoilers #mag 195 spoilers #sorry if this is incoherent i had it all typed up and formatted nicely and then this hellsite just deleted the whole thing #i'm not usually one to theory craft (tho i have utmost respect for those who are) so i have no idea if i'm just reading too deeply #this is the most pepe silvia ass post i've ever written

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canyouhearthelight · 3 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 121

Insert Winter Holiday is here, again!

I’m queuing this ahead of time, and I originally had a really cute message about the end of the year. Then, I realized what year this is and said “Yeah, nope. Not jinxing it, will not have the actual end of the world be my fault.”

I am going to leave it at this: thank you to @baelpenrose, @raven-fae, and @charlylimph-blog for all your help with this story in 2020. Thank you to every single one of you who bombed by notes this year when you found The Miys. Thank you @janeshadow for talking me into getting off my rump and making the story easier to navigate.

Standing to my feet after putting the last dish in the oven, I couldn’t help but smile as I looked around my quarters. Despite the fact that we had forgone a tree this year for Insert Winter Holiday, there was a definite festive feeling as everyone packed themselves in as much as possible. Derek had clearly found my lights again, as they circled every public space in my quarters, including the kitchen. Furniture was pushed as far against the walls as possible, and everyone had been advised to bring their own cushion to sit on.

In the two celebrations since waking up on the Ark, dinner and gifts had largely been a smaller, more typical dinner-style affair. However, without my noticing, my family had grown exponentially since then, and this year finger foods passed from hand to hand as everyone relaxed and chatted. Charly, Tyche, and I took turns in the kitchen, with Hannah waving us all three to sit while she checked on something in the oven so that we could rest and enjoy ourselves, too.

“Where’s Derek?” Charly asked as she approached me to take her shift watching the last batch of food bake.

“He isn’t great with crowds, so he and Sam already came for lunch and to exchange gifts,” I explained, stroking the scarf they had given me. “They already left and took Mac with them.”

“Aww, they’re hogging the Christmas Cat… No fair!” she pouted comically.

“Eh, Mac’s not a fan of crowds either. Besides, I’m pretty sure someone gave him cheese - again - so I’d rather the little gas bomb not be here tonight.”

“Fair enough,” she laughed before popping me with a tea towel. “Go! Your turn to socialize and cuddle!”

I held up my hands in defeat before carefully picking my way around people. Coffey was gracious enough to take my hand and guide me around him and over to where Conor and Maverick were guarding the astonishingly huge pile of gifts. Arthur was nearby, arguing with Conor and trying to drag Simon into it every chance he could. The topic sounded like a rehash of the one regarding fortifications, only this time it was Fortification Redux: The Plant Edition. “We’ve already confirmed there are no megafauna on Von!” Arthur exclaimed wearily. “Not even vegetarians. Why would we need fortifications?”

I could tell Conor was just provoking him when he lazily waved a hand. “It’s psychological, to make people feel safe. Besides, agriculturally, it serves as double duty.”

“He has a point,” Simon conceded, wincing when Arthur turned a playful squint his direction. “He does!”

“Whatever,” Arthur surrendered with a mock-sulk. “Sophia…”

“You know where I stand on this argument, don’t even try it,” I laughed as I dropped in between my partners.

“You wound me! I was going to offer to whip up some goulash, but now I don’t think I will since someone thinks she should accuse me of such atrocious crimes.”

I rolled my eyes at his theatrics. “Whip up whatever you want, I’m done with kitchen duty, and so is Tyche. Charly’s on her last lap.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” Maverick laughed, catching Coffey’s careful eye on his beloved bundle of energy.

Arthur practically leapt to his feet. “That decides it. I am so offended by Sophia’s accusations that I am going to share the kitchen with Miss Chaos Incarnate and leave you all to wonder what wound up in the food.”

Tyche tipped her head back to scowl at him from where she was draped across Antoine’s lap. “If I find a single eyeball…”

Muttering something suspiciously close to “Dammit”, Arthur prowled across the room as though the entire floor wasn’t draped in legs and people.

I opened my mouth to whine about how he could do that, only to be cut off when a piece of pastry was stuffed in my mouth. Grievances forgotten, my eyebrows shot up as I chewed. “Tyche! When did you make donuts!?”

“It may have involved time travel,” she waggled her fingers at me. “But no blood magic or ritual sacrifices, swear.”

I could see Antoine shake his head before responding over his shoulder. “She made them this morning.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Travelling forward through time is still time travel, mon coeur.” He tapped the tip of her nose with one finger, eliciting an expression from her that promised swift and painful retribution.

A soft rustle of fabric caught my attention, and I turned to see a pile of purple and jade-green silk land beside me before a long, dark braid came into view. “The donuts are quite delightful,” Parvati declared as she yanked Xiomara down beside her in a graceless heap. Grabbing a dark brown one from the plate, she popped it in her lover’s mouth just as Xiomara was about to complain. “That one is a Black Forest, I believe. You’ll love it.”

“Careful on those,” Conor warned. “I think they’re half booze.”

“I only soaked the cherries in kirsch,” Tyche corrected. “Not the whole thing.”

“So yeah, half booze,” I corrected.

Giving her most fearsome scowl, Xio snatched the rest of the Black Forest donuts off the plate and balanced them in one hand.

A squeal of laughter interrupted our shenanigans, and we whipped our heads around in time to see Hannah holding a plate of mini-Wellingtons over her head without even looking, while Charly struggled to get up from where she was sprawled across both the other woman’s lap and Coffey’s. Zach stared at Hannah like he just saw his first sunset, and Maverick snorted behind me.

“He is such a goner over her,” I heard him say, followed by a light smack.

“Because I have certainly never seen you look at Conor or Sophia in such a way,” Parvati added lightly. “And obviously not when Conor is baby-talking to the plants around the ship, or when Sophia is so busy working she will eat whatever is handed to her.”

He buried his face in the back of my hair before squeaking. “Nope. Never!”

I twisted around so I could see them both. “Wait. When did this happen?”

“Three times a week, in your office,” Tyche interjected in a bored tone. “And pretty religiously.”

I felt my face heat up. “Does everyone know about this except me.”

Xiomara nodded furiously, cheeks plumped out and a suspicious number of donuts missing from the pile in her hand. Parvati shook her head at the antics and smiled gently. “Someone needs to make sure you eat… He brings you gyoza, and you don’t even notice. It’s quite adorable.”

Conor laughed. “She’s got you there, love.”

Eyes flashed as four heads snapped around to him. “Oh, don’t think you’re off the hook, mister!” Charly scolded at him. “He does the same thing to you. Those little pasties you like so much, with the potato and onion.”

Maverick groaned his embarrassment into my shoulder, while Conor’s smile faltered. “I would remember that,” he insisted.

“Not even once,” Charly confirmed.

Rather than being embarrassed, Conor just laughed again and reached to drag us both over to him. “I don’t know how someone so tall can be so sneaky, but I won’t argue.”

That moment was when Arthur decided to return, a trail of slurps in his wake as he handed out goulash. “No eyeballs,” he sighed dejectedly as he handed one to Tyche.

“You guys are no fun,” Charly muttered as she took her own bowl.

Poor Simon eyed the offering hesitantly. Arthur gently wiggled the bowl at him. “I promise, you’ll like it.”

Carefully, as though it would explode at any moment, Simon took the dish and managed a small bite. After a few seconds - presumably to confirm there was no trick - he chewed and immediately started bolting it down at a rapid pace. “I thought it would be spicier,” he admitted as he snaked a hand out to grab another.

“That would be the paprika. Really red, not really spicy.”

Maverick laughed as he took a bowl, but poked it with his fork before wrinkling his nose. “Sorry, Arthur, not happening.” No sooner had the words left his mouth than Simon’s hand darted out again, eliciting laughter from everyone.

Arthur shrugged, well aware of Maverick’s food aversions by this point. “It’s not for everyone. You keep your tofu, I’ll keep my goulash.”

Not long after that, the last of the food was gone and dishes were cleared. Hot drinks were handed out by Zach and Conor, and then it was finally time to exchange gifts. Baked goods from Tyche made the rounds, along with beautiful accessories from Parvati, carefully curated books from Alistair, plants from Conor and Sam, and more.

At one point, Arthur was staring at his gift from Charly like it would bite him. “It’s… a pen?”

She nodded, producing a small jar of black ink from somewhere. “A fountain pen, with black India ink. I made them both myself.”

Arching an eyebrow, he brought the pen closer to examine the engravings. “An otter… with a sword?”

“With a saber,” she corrected. “I tried to make it look like yours, but do you know how hard you make it to get a good look at that thing!?”

“It’s literally on display in my office when I’m not practicing with it.”

“And how am I supposed to get in there when you aren’t? You booby-trapped the door!”

“Wonder why….” he mused with a small smile. “This is very intricate,” he finally admitted.

“Consider it an apology for the other ones.”

“Oh!” I realized. “Give me just a second, everyone.” Scrambling, and with nowhere near Arthur or Tyche’s grace, I managed to make it to our bedroom to grab an armful of boxes. Once I was back at the doorway, I peeked around the stack and smiled. “These are from Derek, with a little bit of help from Hannah.” Checking names, I distributed the boxes before making my way back to my spot.

“This is… It’s so soft!” Parvati exclaimed. “And the colors are beautiful!”

I smiled as I rubbed the scarf I wore. “He wanted to show his appreciation for how welcome he feels, even if he was overwhelmed at the idea of being here.”

Hannah nodded as she brushed her scarf against her cheek. “We worked on these for months, but I didn’t realize he found time to make one for me… All the colors and patterns are different for each person, by the way. They’re meant to show us how he thinks of us.”

Conor held up the green and orange fabric that his box revealed. “I love it, but I’m confused.”

She rolled her eyes, and tapped her own scarf. “This goldish-brown is my eyes, and this olive green are the clothes I usually wear.”

Coffey’s laughter rang through the room as he unfolded his to see a pattern like Neapolitan ice cream: Rich brown, bright pink, with white swirled throughout. “I think he nailed it.”

Antoine’s head tilted until it almost met his shoulder. “Our eyes… Every single scarf has the color of our eyes in it. That must have been so hard for him to do.” I could see what he meant - Derek did not look people in the eyes, as a rule.

“He wants us to know that he sees us, and that he likes that we see him,” Zach shrugged. When we all stared at him, he just blinked. “What? You don’t work with him as much as I do without figuring those things out.”

Without exception, everyone wrapped their gifts from Derek around themselves before the next set of gifts were handed out. “These are from me,” Arthur explained. “Hopefully I got it right.”

Like Alistair, Arthur had gifted everyone a book, but rather than a book that furthered a current interest, he had sought out historical insights into extremely niche topics for everyone. Some made pretty obvious sense - a book on the historical events leading to and the impacts of the Harlem Renaissance for me, a book on the evolution of law in various cultures for Xiomara - but some were far less obvious.

“A book on Roman law?” Charly asked, confused.

He reached over and tapped on the cover. “Specifically, this is about how much of Roman law was the result of litigation, with some pretty hysterical results. I think you’ll get a huge kick out of it.”

She cracked the book open to a random page and looked at it. “If you weren’t home when you were subpoenaed as a witness, you didn’t have to testify, but if you didn’t the person could stand outside your house and - “ she snorted before continuing in a fit of giggles. “Yell at you… for no more than three…. Three hours a day, three days a week - “ another snort “for up to a year!” She wiped a tear from her eye and surrendered to her giggles. “Oh that’s amazing! Thank you!”

Charly wasn’t the only one laughing. Even Xiomara was snickering. “That is an incredibly specific law.”

“Absurd laws are best laws,” he shrugged.

Eventually, all the gifts were distributed, but nobody was in a rush to leave. Instead, we lounged around, quietly catching up and talking about our plans for the upcoming ‘year’. At some point, Insert Winter Holiday had, unanimously and without fanfare, become the end of the year celebration on the Ark, even as far as the Council made plans. With that in mind, we were taking a chance to celebrate our continued survival for yet another cycle, and tried to look forward with optimism toward the next one.

I just let the feelings sink into me, enjoying the presence of the people who moved into my life. Had I been asked fifteen years ago where I saw myself in the future, ‘on a spaceship, as the last of the human race, about to colonize another world’ would have been nowhere on that list. But here I was, with a larger family than I had ever dreamed.

Despite all that we had been through, I couldn’t wait to see what the future would bring.

(A/N: Keep your eyes out for an announcement on New Year’s Eve!)

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#the miys #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #found family #original science fiction #learning to write #aliens #apocalypse #earth is space australia #learning to live #humans are space fae #humans are awesome #humans are strange #hfy

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