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#this is why i designed elias this way

wolfythewitch · 11 days

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I fully maintain that neatly done hair in character design is for the exact moment where they go batshit insane and their hair falls into their eyes all messy and plastered with sweat

#sources: dude trust me #this is why i designed elias this way

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drownedbycoffee · 4 months

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THEY AREN'T THE FEARS ANYMORE!! THEY'RE DESIRES

(SPOILERS for TMA, and all of TMAGP episodes so far)

Okay, here me out

Tmagp1: Darla wants to hear Arthur's voice again. She even says: "I just couldn’t face the thought of the rest of my life never hearing him again, I had to try" and later on she even says: "But I had to know, so I went to the cemetery."

Tmagp1: RedCanary wants to know about the Magnus Institute. They want to know why it's listed under 'cleared' when there's no evidence of it. Hence why they go and explore it.

Tmagp2: Daria wants that absolute perfection. She wants to change who she is and get out of that dark place. When she talks about the thing that she felt was missing, she says, "... and that’s when I decide I need a tattoo. I had a couple already – just little things on my shin and my wrist – but I decided I needed something big. Something that really changed my look." She also mentions when talking about Ink5oul that "they just kept pressing me about my life, about why I wanted the ink" instead of asking what design she wanted. And when she got the tattoo she describes herself as now being, "Someone I wanted to know more about." Afterwards she even says how "For the first time ever [she] wanted to attempt a self-portrait. Something real and physical, [she] wanted to feel the brushes in my hands and the oil on [her] fingertips." I think a lot of her statement is about her desire and impulsive need for that perfection and that wholeness that she has been aspiring to for her whole life.

Tmagp3: Samuel wants to stay hidden. He wants and he "need[s] to get up, get out of here for treatment." He wants to get better and most of his delirious thoughts are the things that he wants, or feels like he needs. E.g. "I so much want to see it [the sun] again. This night seems endless. I want to be warm again. I am terribly afraid. Thank god for Maddie. I need to treat her better."; "I just need to rest."; "I need to be careful or we’ll drift apart." And then obviously as the narrative continues, Samuel wants to grow and 'put down roots'.

Tmagp4: The narrator wants to be revered and accepted into the Royal Court Orchestra of the Palatinate. He wants to show off and impress. The violin "was a creature with needs and purpose of its own. The needs were simple enough. Blood. Flesh." It has these needs and desires.

So far, I'm interpreting it to be that everything so far can be interpreted as a desire of sorts, varying in the strength and intensity of it. Obviously, fear is still a big part of it all, because if you want something so badly, aren't you afraid of it being stolen from you? Of it being out of your grasp? Of it being unachievable or impossible in some capacity? Of it being a lie?

Even Sam wants to find out more. He wants to know the why and the reason for things. Gwen wants Lena's job. Collin wants to fix all these bugs and keep Freddie running. Alice wants to just get on with it because she found out that wanting to know the 'why' of things is dangerous.

I think that somehow when the Web took all the Fears into a different universe, they morphed into something else. Or they changed to fit what was the most prevalent thing in that universe, because after all, everyone wants something, even if it's something small and inconsequential. Life and aspects of it has always been characterised by that desire for something. Like people wanting food, shelter, safety, love, warmth, happiness, etc. And I think since the Web was so intwined with Jon and Martin, it absorbed some of their emotions when it found its way into this new world, because after all Jon and Martin wanted to stop Jonah/Elias, to stop the apocalypse, to destroy the Panopticon, to be safe, and they wanted each other. I think the wanting and fear of things are really entwined in it all, though this could be absolute bullshit haha

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dxwnfxll · 1 year

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hey bro i saw you got requests open, can i request any scp character with a reader who starts playing background music during other peoples arguments. like this video https://www.youtube.com/shorts/8h_UDtJH4-A

I apologize for any grammar mistakes since i'm using a phone, and i do hope i got this right (this request made me giggle a lil)

Dr. Shaw (doing all pronouns for them since they're canonly genderfluid)

-Shaw was just casually enjoying his day doing the usual ol' replacing Clefs shot gun shells with glitter, when Clef found out and decided to go off on them.

-Of course this wasn't really the first time the two argued, but it was the first time they argued since you joined the foundation.

-Just as things were getting heated Shaw could've sworn she started hearing..spongbob music?

-It probably pissed Clef off even more to see Shaw start looking around for the source of the music.

-But Shaw spotted you in a door way staring into his soul, but it was hilarious that you were casually making background music during their argument.

-Shaw tried to argue back they really did, but the damn music getting a lil louder each time she tried to speak made him giggle a lil.

-Clef eventually got annoyed also hearing the music and just walked away from the whole thing (He's vowing revenge now)

Dr. Clef

-So Dr. Clef technically already does this in a sense, he loves playing his ukulele especially during the designated eating times.

-He'll usually go into the cafeteria and play his ukulele on off notes to make everyone miserable, of course this got him yelled at by some random researcher.

-This wasn't unusual though, he always seemed to piss some random researcher off daily.

-What was unusual though was the sound of spongebob music playing, he swore he could hear it.

-He couldn't exactly spot where the music was coming from though, he began to even wonder if he was making the music unconsciously.

-But then he spotted you at a random table playing some spongebob music, he kinda blinked at you before his grin somehow got even wider.

-He started ignoring the random researcher and played his ukulele louder than you, and casually went back to 'torturing' everyone with his music.

Dr. Glass

-Glass doesn't usually get in arguments, sure there are some people who get on his nerves..but the guy is an Angel.

-So when he gets in one it doesn't usually last long, but today he was in an argument with Shaw.

-Nothing all to bad, he was just trying to get the chaotic person to take his meds. Which resulted in a heated discussion in the middle of the hallway.

-Glass tried to talk somewhere more appropriate but the 'man child' refused.

-That's when he heard it, the sound of spongebob music. Glass sighed already knowing who it was.

-He glanced around making the mistake of looking away from Elias to see where exactly you were.

-He then spots you peaking out a nearby research room playing the music, he clears his throat

-"Y/n, please. Now is not the ti-" He then notices Elias is gone "oh for goodness sake!" and he storms off to go find the man.

Dr. Rights

-Dr. Rights is a..let's say sociable person, and by sociable I mean she knows just about everyone

-So it's no surprise if she gets in an argument with some of these people, but today she seemed to be in an argument with some random JR researcher.

-She didn't even remember how the argument started, but now they were arguing back and forth inside of one of the many break rooms around the site.

-She then could hear music and swore maybe she was going crazy, she glanced around till spotting you nearby.

-She let out a chuckle and still tried to argue back but couldn't, this whole situation turned funny to her. And she couldn't remember why she was even arguing in the first place.

-She pat the random JR researcher on the shoulder while she laughed a bit, the researcher seemed to notice you as well and also began to giggle a bit.

Dr. Gerald

-With how awful Dr. Gerald's luck is, it's no surprise he's gotten himself in a few arguments (and luckily he'd get out of some unscathed)

-Gerald had somehow pissed off some random researcher, he didn't know what exactly he did but the researcher was not letting up.

-Gerald argued back he didn't even know what the researcher was talking about, which only made the situation worse.

-As the two argued it out Gerald could hear spongebob music out of no where, he gulped a bit wondering if it was some SCP (dudes very paranoid).

-But he spotted you and literally sighed in relief, you were just sitting nearby eating a granola bar as you played the spongebob theme music on your lap top.

-That sigh though caused Gerald a broken nose by the upset researcher, dude has really bad luck

Iceberg

-Icebergs sarcastic and rude self jas definitely gotten into plenty of arguments during his time as Dr. Gears assistant.

-Dude can't keep his mouth shut for the life of him, and right now he was arguing with another assistant about..who even knows.

-Iceberg didn't even know what they were arguing about, but he refused to be the 'loser' in this argument.

-Iceberg could then hear spongebob music and sighed loudly knowing who it was. After all the music was always there at every.single.argument. he had

-He turned his head to see you in the nearby door way playing the music, he glared at you narrowing his eyes before rolling them and going back to his argument

-He was very annoyed by you, but the music was still funny...sometimes.

Dr Kondraki

-Konny always seemed to get into an argument whether he wanted to or not.

-And those arguments were usually with Clef of all people, just like right now!

-He and Clef were arguing in his office as you sat on a nearby couch bored out of your mind, the two argued about all sorts of different things that you stopped paying attention to.

-You knew how to stop this argument though, just as the two were getting near the point of possibly being physical you started playing the spongebob theme song.

-The two didn't seem to notice at first still arguing with each other until the music got louder, Kondraki blinking and telling Clef to shut up as he looked over at you.

-The two stared at you as you played the music with a deadpan expression. The whole thing wasn't exactly funny if you had to do it every damn day.

-but luckily the music made the two stop arguing and finally part ways.

Mikell Shaw

-Mikell is an 05 member currently, but back in his more wild days he certainly got into an argument or two.

-And that's when he met you, during his wild days and ever since those days you seemed to never stop following him around.

-Especially when he seemed to get into an argument, he had made the mistake of inviting you to his office on the same day his sister decided to visit and chew him out.

-The two Shaw siblings were in a heated argument about who knows what when you walked in, the cowboy already red in the face from anger too focused on Claire. As his baby sister didn't even notice you come in due to her only focusing on Mikell.

-Only when the two began to hear spongebob music did their argument seem to cease, Mikell raising up a hand to shut his sister up with a "hold on, you hear that?"

-The two looked towards you as you stood in the door frame playing the music, Claire just ended up sighing and leaving the office as Mikell seemed a bit happier to see you.

-(Elias totally isn't paying you to start doing this from now on)

035

-This manipulative mask has certainly seen some things, and he's certainly had his fair share of arguments.

-Especially with the 'god awful' researchers here, he despises them..well except for maybe a few.

-And you were one of them, why? Because you entertained him during arguments.

-Whenever the mask seemed to have an argument, you'd always appear and start playing some weird tune he didn't understand.

-At first it annoyed him greatly, but that was because he saw you as another researcher. Now though it made him laugh, especially when you wouldn't let up even though the person he was arguing with told you to stop.

-He always won the arguments to, as eventually the person he was arguing with would give up as your music got louder and louder.

049

-He'll never say he's gotten into 'arguments', he's more of gotten into 'spats' if anything.

-The only time he can recount an 'argument' is with 035, that 'dreaded mask' he dislikes.

-A breach seemed to happen, 035 had broken out of containment (again) and was currently looking for 049.

-Just as 049 was in the middle of his work with you his 'assistant', 035 burst in laughing

-049 took one look at him and yelled out a 'Villain!' As 035 could only laugh and mock him back.

-The two got into a pretty heated argument, 035 completely forgetting his whole plan of escaping.

-That's when you decided to just start playing the spongebob theme music to make the whole argument even funnier.

-049 seemed to glance at you and speak "I apologize greatly, but now is not the time for music y/n."

-035 laughed "I think it's the right time" he said as his mask smiled, but that smile faded as his body decayed. The argument plus the music had 035s host enough time to decay fully.

-035 laid in the ground with a frown before 049 kicked the mask out of his 'room'

073 (Cain)

-Cain doesn't usually get into arguments very often, he doesn't really ever try to

-He's just always a helpful hand and will always try to see eye to eye with just about everyone, but that doesn't mean he's NEVER gotten into an argument.

-Today he seemed to get into one, arguing with Dr. Shaw and his awful joke. Dr. Shaw had thought it would be funny if she gifted Cain a 'fruit basket' and claim he had been 'cured'

-But the basket was just full of fake fruits, which caused Cain to go off on Dr. Bright for his sadistic joke.

-As the two were in an argument Cain could've sworn he could hear music, but he tried to drown it out staying focused on the argument.

-Eventually the music seemed to get louder and he finally looked away from Dr. Shaw to see you right behind him.

-He looked back to Dr. Shaw only to see him now gone, Cain sighed before looking back at you as you finally stopped playing that music "he gave me a fruit basket...with fake fruit, who does that??"

Hope you enjoyed lolol, i take requests still!

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alenseress · 4 months

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Elias laughs and the sound of it isn't unkind. Jon isn't sure why he expects it to be. It's somewhat pleasant, actually, to see his shoulders shake undone, forehead pressed to the roof of the car.

"Did I say something wrong?"

Elias waves him off and straightens up with a smile that gets his face all crinkled up. It's a lot of fine lines, a lot more under the unforgiving streetlights than what Jon is used to. It makes him seem more articulated, somehow. Less of a, what is it that Sasha keeps calling him, Walt Disney's frozen head?

"Not at all. You are one peculiar man, Jonathan."

Jon, he wants to correct, but doesn't know if it's appropriate — they're not really on the first name basis, are they. Elias is, sure. Was, from the very start, but the "Elias" in question never actually slips past Jon's head. So, instead, he finds the logo on the bumper very noteworthy.

"Cadillac," Elias suggests and now Jon scoffs himself.

"Are you showing off?"

Elias bops his head in a touché kind of way and scratches at his brow with a thumb carefully stuck away from the burning cigarette. "You looked like you were about to ask."

"It's just my face."

"Oh, I know."

Jon buries his freezing fingers into the coat's pockets and joins him, pressing a hip to the cold metal. Elias offers his portsigar in that sickeningly polite manner of his and Jon grabs a smoke for himself without thinking it through, mainly because he feels awkward standing empty handed. Something about them and the deserted Tesco parking lot does feel extremely inappropriate, now that he thinks about it with a cold cleared head.

Elias squints at his scrambling. "Are you uncomfortable?"

As he pockets for his lighter, Jon actually contemplates his answer. Elias doesn't rush, but does, however, mirror his stance so they end up face-to-face.

"No, I suppose," Jon clicks the wheel and takes a drag. "Are you uncomfortable?"

Cranks his head a bit and tries to roll something on his tongue along with the smoke. "Do I make you uncomfortable, Elias?"

He looks at him then, really looks at him, so prolonged and heated Jon feels like he might break sweat. But then the gaze slips somewhere above his shoulder and Elias smiles to himself as if remembering a joke.

"Somewhat, yes."

"Unfortunate."

"Not at all."

When Elias reaches out to him after a moment of silence, Jon isn't really surprised. He's not good at this but god knows he isn't entirely lost in clues, not when it comes to someone as blunt as Elias. It leaves him soured, really, the momentary rush of anxiety and disappointment. He takes a deep breath, preparing to say his best collected good-byes.

Elias runs his fingers gently along his clenched fist, so much so that Jon trails off with a stupidly hanging mouth. The nails, somewhat long and polished, scrape his dry skin up the sleeve and slip to the underside, following the veins with just their pointy tips. Jon makes a noise he's terrified to hear as his hand opens involuntarily. Elias holds it like he has held Jon's hand a million times before, like he watched it weather through the years just alongside his own, like he pressed kisses and whispered prayers into his palms. He holds it like he knows it, turning it over towards the dimm light above them.

Jon stares at his own clipper laying now cradled. Elias points a finger, connects the moles on his wrist and draws a thoughtful line to the cheap plastic, eventually tracing the pixelated design. The eye stares back at them.

"Let me drive you home, Jon."

Jon can't breathe for some reason.

"Wha..."

"You seem tired."

#jonelias #pre-canon #tho I'm not sure how far #tagged intense hand holding??#the magnus archives #Spotify

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leonenjoyer69 · 2 months

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I present, from my new Lanyon drinks the potion AU (working on the name), Robert Lanyon and his HJ7 Alter ego!

Taking pictures of colored pencil drawings is the bane of my existence, bc lighting is so annoying.

Anyways!!! I've settled on the first name Elias, bc I feel like Henry would help name him and Elias is a letter off from Alias (which means a fake/pen name), so I thought that'd be funny :3 still working on the last name tho.

Yes, that is Hyde's vest that Elias is wearing. Henry gave it to him on his first night alive after clearing everything up with him and Robert about what just happened to him. Since he's near Hyde's size, Jekyll decided that he needed some clothes, at least temporarily, but Elias refuses to give it back now, despite having his own clothes. Why? Because Henry gave it to him, and he loves Henry so much. it's also Hyde's vest, who's part of Henry, so by proxy he's gotta love him too, right? How could he hate any part of Henry?

Unlike Hyde, Elias isn't some self-proclaimed evil incarnate. He's very easy to read emotionally and is very honest to everyone around him. He's very open about his feelings, which are generally very quick to change, especially towards those he cares most about (*cough* JekyllandHyde *cough*-) and he strives for praise. He likes accomplishing things and has more of a liking for "sciency stuff", he also recalls most of the doctor things that Lanyon learned from university and isn't deterred by gross things and blood. He shares hyde's wanderlust and will run around town with him, though Elias prefers parks and nature over the slums of London, and he also enjoys the rooftops.

Timeline wise, Lanyon accidentally drinks the potion after all the blackfog and queen Lucy stuff, when they "kidnap" Hyde. Specifically, it happens right before Jekyll dumps all the HJ7 down the drain- like, right before. Lanyon kinda interrupts him doing that. Henry reenters the room in the middle of Lanyon's transformation, so he's there when Elias kinda "wakes up".

Anyways, please please PLEASE ask me questions about him, I'd love to answer them :3 also, I'm currently working on a fic for this!! The first chapter is almost done I think, I just need time to actually sit down and write.

Also jejvkekkvke character design is SO HARD, shout out to people who do it all the time. Also apologies if the skin looks off in any way, I've never really used colored pencils to color any characters, much less any colored characters, so I kinda had to figure it out as I went lmao.

#tgs #the glass scientists #jekyll and hyde #tgs hyde #dr jekyll and mr hyde #edward hyde #robert lanyon #tgs fanart #tgs robert lanyon #tgs lanyon #lanyon takes the potion AU #my writing #oc: elias wright #my art

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nohr-and-thirst · 11 months

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infodump more about welt suffering and welt in general. please?

I've played quite a bit of HI3 and have been playing HSR, which made me finally interested in welt. the gravitas of his eng VA's voice his chef's kiss - I think he's one of the few characters who doesn't sound like "I'm reading this from a paper in a studio" in english - and I dig his design and powers. but what side material do I actually read to get welt lore? there's so much manga and I've only seen screenshots

ASK ABOUT WELT AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE!

Quick side topic about his English VA. I love how it fits Welt so well, in my opinion. I play Impact 3rd with CN dub, but for Star Rail he doesn’t have the same CN voice actor so it threw me off at first, but I gotten use to it after I tried to stop associating with another Impact 3rd VA.

I am putting this here already, this is gonna be very short explanation. Is this post short? No absolutely not, but I’m trying to cut details to try and make it short as I can and have it make sense.

Let us start off with some basic information about Welt Yang and now he inherited the name plus the Herrscher of Reason core.

Before there was Welt Yang, there was Welt Joyce, the first Herrscher of Reason. Sadly Impact 3rd does not explore much of Joyce, and most of the information on him, Otto, Anti-Entropy, and even about Tesla and Einstein is all a Visual Novel that never got a true English translation. However, it did get fan translations and oh goodness it’s a lot there. We will speak only of the information we got about Welt Yang from this Visual Novel.

Around the time this VN takes place Welt Yang is 8 years old since it’s 1955. He is the kiddo in the middle, and man oh man he went through a lot!!!

Welt’s dad, Elias Nokianvirtanen, really did care for Welt. He would often travel with his dad who was working for Schicksal.

There is important information to note, and if I don’t explain it I feel like so much will be lost and the reason all of this is important. There are two major groups at the time (1955). Schicksal and Anti-Entropy (AE). At first AE was just the Northern American branch, and there was a lot of tension between the two. After a bit of… fighting, they did manage to make Anti-Entropy.

The reason they were with the AE, was because Elias was forced to sabotage AE because Otto was threatening Welt’s life.

Than there is Welt Joyce. Welt Joyce is one of my personal favorite underrated characters, and the way Joyce really wanted to protect humanity tells you everything.

Now what does these gentlemen have in common-? Their deaths are connected to Otto. Otto killed Elias due to the reason he was there slipped, and Joyce risked his life to protect New York from being nuked by Otto.

At this time as Welt was trying to help Joyce, Joyce asked him what he thought of the name Welt. Welt mentions he likes it, and Joyce not only passed on the name Welt, but also the Herrchser core.

If you are curious, and wish to read the VN here is the link! https://zklm.github.io/honkai-vn-antientropy/ as a reminder, this is a fan translation, since we never got an official English translation!

Now, here is where we get to the fun bits. Fun fact: in the manga Second Eruption, Otto was legit like flabbergasted. Cause you know, THE FACT HE KILLED IS SUPPOSEDLY ALIVE. Only than to see it wasn’t Welt Joyce, but someone else and this manga just really shows you how strong Welt can be.

Now in Second Eruption, their goal at the start was just “hey we need to find this new herrchser.” So guess what? They gotta work together a bit. There was a small comment that I feel gets over looked and that is, Otto never really taught Siegfried or Theresa how to use their divine keys, and Welt made a small jab at this. I don’t hear people really mention this, and I don’t know why it is such a small fact I love to bring up.

There is a really important fight scene that happens among these pages/chapters between Welt and Sirin. Here we get to see more of what Welt can do as the HOR, which is once he learns the structure of a human creation, he can make a cope with honkai energy. Now I don’t wanna go to much detail into this fight cause how I’m typing won’t do it justice, but we get a tiny new conflict pop up! What is this conflict? A clown, more specifically, Otto. That’s Otto Apocalypse himself.

When I saw Otto has basically made it his personal goal to take down Welt, it being Joyce or Yang, to take down AE, and just do his plans, I mean it. This man goes so far, and I can do a whole essay about Otto, because he is an extremely well written antagonist. However, that will be for later in case anyone wants that just tell me. But Otto could have done more to Welt here, however Siegfried was there! Since Siegfried is key to Otto’s plan he just leaves and they both luckily make it back to safety with VERY bad injuries.

I do not want to go into all the details in the manga, as this manga is my favorite and everyday I hope that HoYoverse will animate it, so https://manga.honkaiimpact3.com/book/1005 here is the link! PLEASE IF YOU CAN READ IT! It’s 65 chapters long, it’s amazing, well written and oh my goodness I could do a whole video essay on it.

Now I am gonna throw some fun facts because this post is getting long and I’ll share some links too!

So here is a great video from HoYoverse about Joyce, Welt Yang, and Bronya and the legacy of the Herrchser of Reason! https://youtu.be/eSOYUfnUGZk

youtube

Now here I’m gonna send two playlist of A Post Honkai Odyssey. Why? Because Welt is in it, and also one of my all time favorite character is in it too, Void Archives. (This is me hinting that I wanna info dump about him too.)

Here is a playlist of gameplay of APHO on YT: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLt0MO_4lG2SEyuMmOywSW02-soMN0PA45

Here is a playlist for APHO 2: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLIL1w10vWxxolgZxP1Q7KlTPyq2B8JCt3

Also APHO has a certain scene that could be similar to some Star Rail players 👀

Here some random fun facts about Welt Yang that I recall on top of my head cause he gives the brain serotonin!

Welt Yang for the first bit having the core couldn’t sleep tho to the fact that the core houses over 300k people, and he never really complained of any struggles it gave to him, but we learn during the HoD arc when he speaks with Bronya he is concerned about her and ask her all the things she is experiencing.

It’s mention in Second Eruption that Welt would try and ask Einstein to play the piano, also he mentions around that same chapter I believe that if he didn’t inherit the HoR core he thinks/wonders if he would have become a teacher or linguistic like his father.

Facts relating to Arahato is that one his company had a whole copyright issue with Otto’s game company, the Arahato is heavily based of Joyce, and the line “Witness the stars shatter before you!” Comes from Joyce, but Herrchser of Truth Bronya (HI3RD) and Welt (HSR) say this line! Also around the Thus Spoke Apocalypse arc, it is mentioned by Einstein that one morning Welt made breakfast for the crew but it wasn’t much since he made it but implies he knows how to cook!

This is more from Star Rail, but is Serval is in your express she actual mentions Welt cause he asked some questions, but here is the tumblr link for that!

I don’t want to make a too long post that no one possible reads, BUT PLEASE ASK ME ANYTHING! IT CAN BE SILLY OR SERIOUS ABOUT WELT OR ANY OF THE HONKAI IMPACT 3RD GROUP OR STAR RAIL GROUP AS WELL!!! I read the manga’s and I have read the VN and I have spent hours rereading and replaying and explaining to people that ask and I love to do so QVQ

#Welt Yang #Welt Joyce #otto apocalypse #honkai impact #honkai impact 3rd #hi3rd #hi3 #a post honkai odyssey #APHO #honkai star rail #hsr #I’m tagging as such since I do mention a bit of Star rail but mAN I COULD RAMBLE #adorable anon #Nohr rambles #long post

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theallegedbird · 9 months

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ok so i’ve calmed down a bit (had to eat dinner and pretend to be normal in front of family)

(thoughts on the update under the cut)

ok so first the obvious: JONNY AND ALEX??? AND THEIR CHARACTERS ARE REDACTED?? HM I WONDER WHY /S

it would be funny as shit (would be in despair) if they were playing with us trying to get us screaming because jmart are coming back and then they’re just two random ass characters

like alex is mfing jared hopworth

if this is our jmart and not some alternate version honestly i think it would be cool that they were the antagonists or at least somewhere in the middle, they deserve to be unhinged and morally grey,, as a treat

considering the oh hello tape is canon in tmp we’re definitely getting some variation, alternate or not, of at least martin and probably jon

if it IS tma jmart then they’re probably the ones reasonable for burning down the institute,, they get some arson they deserve it

i have two wolves inside of me, one says “jon and martin shouldn’t come back because it ruins the ambiguity and tragedy of tma” and the other says “JONNY PLEse BRING THEM BACK I NEED MY BLORBOS ALIVE AND HAPPY I AM BEGG-“

also tim fearons character being redacted too,, nope no do NOT trust that

hhh imagine if it’s one of jonah’s previous bodies, like james wright or maybe it’s somehow jonah himself??? (unlikely)

ALSO GWENDOLYN BOUCHARD??? RELATIVE?? ELIAS MILF EDITION??

agnes theories are REALLY getting to me rn,, the ashes on the logo image, the way the institute was destroyed,, please can she show up jonny and alex always said they regretted not using her as much

i need to run around in circles to calm down i’m having big autism moment rn (insane on the verge of collapsing)

ALSO ALICE AND SAMAMA,, RUNNING TO MAKE DESIGNS OF THEM BEFORE IT COMES OUT TO SEE HOW WRONG I AM

#pretending idc about tmp so october comes faster #still losing my shit #tma #the magnus archives #tmagp #the magnus protocol #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #jonah magnus #elias bouchard #james wright #agnes montague #alice dyer #samama khalid #avery rambles #tma spoilers #gwendolyn bouchard

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slafkovskys · 3 months

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I honestly love Petey and princess😭 What are other times princess does something and Petey can’t help but be like “she better be happy I love her so much”

after princess graduates from college, they decide that it’s time to move out of elias’ used to be bachelor pad and settle into a house. he gives her full creative freedom because of course as the year went on, his apartment had little touches of her, but it was for the most part his style.

he wanted her to feel involved in designing this space since it would technically be their first together.

tell him why when he gets back from sweden and walks through the front door, there is a magenta colored sofa in the middle of the livingroom and an equally bright rug underneath. he lets out a slow breath as she starts explaining that their coffee table was on back order and wouldn’t be here for another month or two. she notices his silence and visibly deflates, “you don’t like it.”

he wanted his grey sectional back so badly that he considered texting the rookie that had moved into the apartment to let him know he needed to start looking for something new, but he tries to recover quickly, “just not used to the brightness, älskling. why don’t you show me everything else?”

and elias had truly never lived in a house with so much color. it doesn’t help that their house somehow becomes the designated gathering location and everyone loves to tease him for his pink sofa. he would take the chirps though because seeing the way her face would light up when she got to show off their home and the way she had intricately designed it was worth it all.

and the pink sofa was actually very good for naps, thank you very much.

#elias pettersson #peteyxprincess

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detaia · 9 months

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mentopolis ep 2 highlights:

1. The Fix with his animal facts is sheer poetry. "I don't think you're the tail of a swallowtail butterfly. I think you're the butterfly"?? holy shit?? thats so sweet and poetic and beautiful??

and everyone goin "aww" at everything The Fix does he's so beloved and its only ep 2 like Brennan said there's nothing fans of play love more than a murderer. ughh The Fix using his Protector and Loyalty features to help Conrad 🥺🥺 what a perfect character I love them

ALSO. "Did you know that more than half the bones in your body are in your hands and feet?" and "Whenever someone says I'm going to break every bone in your body I think thats ridiculous! It'd be way too much work! But I could break half the bones in your body"

2. Mike Trapp committing 1000% to being a student and farming so much moxie only to spend seven just to freak a guy out. his fuckin "I. am. a. STUDENT" fuckin killed me

3. Also so many moments in this ep where Brennan just fully exits standard play just to talk about how much he loves what his players are doing. Like when Conrad goes to hug Justin in combat and Brennan's like aww that's so sweet take a moxie. Or when Brennan comments on how Hank's facts are genuinely nightmarish and in Adventuring Party him saying that breaking his own fingers and going "just kill me man" was how he Brennan would react in that situation.

4. Conrad's "So...how long you've been fixing?". And the. the whole scene in Nostalgia's. Conrad's coffee grounds. Anastatia's room temp vodka. Hunch's the experience of a root beer float for the first time. Imelda and Novelty. Dan Fucks asking for pancake syrup. and The Fix just wanting a calzone. absolutely perfect.

5. the way they did the reveal with the giant screens ahsidifjfifi so cool

6. Hunch at the start IDing the goons by tasting their blood Mike Trapp everyone

7. Gods the whole thing with Wilton and Dan Fucks and the balls and Dan Fucks being like "keep it up one day it'll happen. I love you brother" and Freddie hearing blunt force trauma to the head and being like "Wilton you gotta get down to the balls ASAP"

8. udhhdjsjsgklgk the wordbuilding in Conrad's home with the memories and The Fix being challenged by memories and feelings that come from a place of conscience cos by design shame and guilt and memories when we didn't do right by others or ourselves are not pleasant. They force us to confront our behaviour and the consequences of our actions and it's not gonna be pleasant. but it COULD be. In the same way that conscience can make us feel bad when we don't follow it, it can also feel good to so the right thing despite how difficult it is and the idea that for Elias Hodge his conscience is a lil street urchin and their idea of a banner day would be if Elias held a door for an old lady.

9. Hank saying The Fix doesn't think the job of the mind is to control itself and Brennan's mind exploding and being like "this season's good for me in a lot of ways" eheheheheh crunchy

10. The Fix running his thumb along the ice skates and thinking of Ichabod a kid in the home for wayward interests that isn't there anymore wahh 🥺

11. awawaughh Conrad telling the story of how Elias stood up for his lil sis and got cut up by some bullies using the skates...and that's why Conrad keeps them and that's why he doesn't deserved to be listened to....and The Fix going "I think its time to unlearn that lesson" with somber sincerity and Conrad shaken to his core the captions say "(thoroughly impacted) Okay." as Conrad reacts ajdididjjd. The Brennan commenting about how they talked about balls so much this season and he legitimately almost wept then AJJAKAKSKSKDNBFJD

#d20 #mentopolis #mentopolis spoilers

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dreamwritesimagines · 2 years

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Enamored Extra Scene - 13

[Set in: During and post chapter 34]

Married.

They were to be married.

Anthony felt as if he hadn’t stopped smiling since he had woken up. He could barely wait until breakfast, and for almost an hour he had been pacing in his bedroom, trying to contain his excitement for the day to come.

He wondered whether he could bring her here without any whispers in the hallways, just to ask her opinion about how she would like the room to look. The room next to his –which was designed to be the Viscountess’ room- would be used for her clothes and whatever else she would want to put there.

There was no way he would even entertain the idea of them sleeping separately.

She belonged to his room and his bed and he didn’t want to let her out of his sight, let alone a completely separate room.

He checked the clock on the wall and took a deep breath, then walked out of his room. Though he was dying to get to Avon house, he figured he had to tell his family so he made his way to the drawing room where all of them were in.

“Anthony, we were just about to call you,” his mother said as soon as he stepped in and he smiled at her.

“So I’m in a hurry with no time to lose but I wanted to let you all know,” he said, looking at the room. “I’m uh— I’m getting married.”

The impact of his words was almost immediate. His mother gasped, Eloise’s eyes widened, while Hyacinth and Gregory cheered, making Francesca bite down a smile. Colin dropped the apple he was nibbling on and Benedict raised his brows and shook his head, subtly pointing at something over his shoulder but Anthony paid no mind to it.

“I asked her last night, she said yes,” Anthony said with a slight grin, “I’m on my way to Avon house now and—”

“I’m sorry,” Elias’s voice reached him, “What did you just say?”

Oh God damn it.

Anthony looked over his shoulder to see Elias by the table, gawking at him and he tilted his head.

“What are you doing here?”

“Cece and I wanted to—forget about that. What did you just say?”

Anthony opened his mouth but as if on cue, Cecily entered the room.

“Oh hello Anthony!”

“Good morning Cecily,” he said. “Thank you again, by the way.”

“Of course.”

“What on earth is happening?” Elias asked, looking between them and Anthony looked at Cecily to ask for her permission and she nodded, so he turned to Elias.

“Eli—”

“Please don’t tell me you asked my sister to marry you.”

“I did, and she said yes,” Anthony said, making Elias let out a whine. “And Cecily has been very helpful.”

“You helped him!?” Elias exclaimed and Cecily nodded her head again.

“Yes.”

“I thought you hated him!”

“I too thought that,” Eloise pointed out and Cecily shrugged her shoulders.

“I just hated the whole rake charade.”

“Does this mean she will come to live with us?” Hyacinth asked excitedly, making both Elias and Anthony turn to her.

“Yes—”

“No!”

“Elias.”

“Even if that marriage were to take place, she’s not going to live with you. You can come see her at the weekends with a chaperone, that’s it.”

Colin repressed a laugh and Benedict kicked him as subtly as he could while their mother cleared her throat.

“Francesca, would you please take Hyacinth and Gregory to the garden?”

“Of course,” she said and walked out with them, ignoring their protests, closing the door behind her. His mother turned to Anthony.

“Now, when did you propose?”

“Last night at the masquerade. Cecily helped and I really need to go—”

“You stay where I can see you, you goddamn heathen.” Elias growled before turning to Cecily. “Cece, why would you help him?”

Cecily shot him a look.

“He’s in love, and she loves him back,” she insisted, making Anthony’s heart skip a beat. “I want my best friend to be happy, and I’m guessing you do as well, no?”

“He’s a rake!”

“He used to be, but not anymore.”

“That doesn’t matter!”

Anthony heaved a sigh. “Do I need to be here for this conversation?”

“Anthony if you move, I will shoot you. I know where you keep your pistol.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m in a hurry here.”

“For what?”

“I need to talk to your father.”

Elias’s jaw dropped. “You haven’t even talked to him yet?”

“I believe your sister calls it viva la revolution,” Anthony deadpanned, eyeing the door and Colin frowned.

“Doesn’t Lord Avon hate you?”

“Oh he does. Very much so.”

“So you didn’t talk to him or me?” Elias asked him and he shook his head.

“She says—”

“If the words viva la revolution leave your mouth Anthony, I swear to God…”

Cecily waved her hands. “Listen, the first time she rejected him, so on the second time—”

“You proposed to her before?!” Elias exclaimed and all of a sudden, the whole room erupted into chaos.

“What do you—”

“You proposed?”

“I don’t even know if you can call that a proposal, I told him that.”

“Wait why?”

“Oh he didn’t tell you about that? Listen to this, he started listing—”

“Cecily, don’t tell them that!”

“She rejected you?”

“When did that even—”

“Children!” his mother’s voice cut through the multiple voices. “One at a time. Anthony, she rejected your proposal?”

“Once, yes.”

“Oh how I wish it were twice,” Elias grumbled. “When?”

“At Stormview.”

Elias blinked a couple of times. “You proposed to my sister at my wedding weekend?!”

“That barely counts as a proposal,” Cecily commented, “No wonder she rejected first.”

“That explains some things though,” Colin said. “Was it before or after Sinclair proposed?”

“Right before.”

“You went to console him about her after she rejected both of you?”

“Yes Colin, and it was a terrible time for me thank you for asking.”

Eloise hummed. “Mr. Sinclair did need some consolation though, he wrote her multiple poems after she rejected him.”

“Yeah Anthony, what did you do? You just shaved your beard.”

Anthony ran a hand over his face and his mother sat up straighter.

“So she said yes this time?” she asked and Anthony nodded.

“Yes and—”

“You didn’t think to let me know beforehand?” Elias asked and Anthony shrugged his shoulders.

“Elias, you’ve heard what she said,” he told him. “Before you proposed to Cecily. She wants to be asked first, not you or your father.”

Elias let out a breath and shook his head.

“No,” he said. “No way. That marriage is not taking place—”

“She already said yes, Eli.”

Elias groaned and Cecily smiled softly, reaching out to pat his back. “There there, it’s going to be okay.”

“Why is this happening to me?” Elias asked to no one in particular, making Anthony exchange glances with Cecily. “Why is God punishing me? Is it because of my sister’s hubris?”

“I doubt it.”

“Anthony, after you talk to Lord Avon you must bring her here,” his mother said and Eloise nodded.

“Certainly. We will call for the doctor as well so that he can check whether she has gone insane.”

“Eloise.”

“She agreed to marry Anthony, I think we must check it.”

“Alright, I’m leaving,” Anthony said and Elias’s head shot up.

“We’re coming too.”

Anthony made a face. “Seriously?”

“You asked my sister to marry you without letting me know,” Elias pointed at him. “Of course I will be there.”

“Great,” he grumbled and walked out of the drawing room, with Elias and Cecily following him and it was only when they stepped outside Elias groaned again.

“I don’t like this!” he announced and Anthony shot him a look.

“Noted.”

“Are you sure she said yes?” Elias asked. “Maybe you just misheard.”

“I’m one hundred percent sure, Elias.”

“Great,” Elias grumbled and Cecily let out a laugh.

“Come on,” she grabbed Elias’s hand to pull him towards the carriage and he followed her like a grumpy puppy.

“I hate you so much Anthony,” he called out before getting in the carriage and Anthony shook his head slightly, then got on his carriage as well.

“Where to, my lord?”

“Avon House, thank you.” Anthony told the coachman, his heart beat speeding up when her beautiful face flashed before his eyes, a smile pulling at his lips. As soon as the carriage moved, he started going over what he would say to Lord Avon for what felt like the hundredth time since last night.

He had to convince him, and he had to convince him fast because now that she had said yes, -which he still couldn’t believe- he was done waiting.

When the carriage stopped in front of the huge house after a couple of minutes, he got off and saw Elias climbing the marble stairs while Cecily made her way to him.

“He’s not going to make this easy for me, is he?” he asked and Cecily grinned.

“I doubt it,” she said. “You’d better have some good negotiation skills, Bridgerton.”

Anthony took a deep breath and threw his shoulders back, then followed Elias up the stairs.

#enamored extra scene #anthony bridgerton x reader

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kadavernagh · 1 month

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Dead End || Regan, Elias, & Wynne

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Saol Eile PARTIES: Regan, Elias, and Wynne SUMMARY: After a couple of stumbling blocks, Wynne and Elias both manage to find Regan at the clinic. No one gets quite what they want. CONTENT: Self-harm

How do you tell someone they wasted their time crossing the Atlantic for you?

“That’s no excuse for an infection,” Regan insisted, as she finished wrapping the hand of a young banshee. The dressing matched that of her own hands hiding under her gloves, but this child – only 14 years old – needed her hand smothered in antibiotic ointment before she could be bandaged up. Regan was vaguely aware of the bell above the door jingling, sounding the next patient’s arrival, a drop-in like most.

No one was screaming. It could wait.

She stayed focused on the child, one who was probably more adept at existing as a banshee than Regan was. “It will slow you down. You’re thinking of it as punishment when it should be acknowledged as a tool. You help no one and nothing if you allow your hand to fester off. Tell your mother I said that.” Such an exchange would have afflicted her voice with fragility a few weeks ago. Not such now. Regan gave the young girl a dull nod, which around here, was as good as an official discharge. She still stuck to the paperwork, though. The old band-aid dispenser never did. She was better than that thing.

“One minute,” she called out to the waiting room (which was really just a bigger room abutting her one and only examination room, neither designed sensibly with the intent of being used as a clinic). The child left. She rolled off her bloodied gloves into the trash and frowned down at her bandages. How had she managed to cast a stone in a glass house when there was no glass to be found? Regan knew what would come next. The girl would say something to her mother, her mother would say something to Cliodhna, and Cliodhna would see the irony in Regan giving anyone advice, then coat the cruelty on her fangs, waiting for the right moment to–

There was a strange sound, clanging, like something metal falling. Regan rose to alert like an old, dreary hound from a nap – with little haste nor care. “I said one minute,” she repeated flatly, without irritation. Then, for good measure, she said it again in English just in case. Come to think of it, she didn’t detect the presence of another fae. Was there not another patient here for her? After jotting down a couple of encounter notes and filing them away in the solitary file cabinet (which, again, the dispenser would have never done), she finally turned to the open door to face who she expected was to be her next patient, if anyone was there.

Except, it wasn’t real. Why was she seeing Wynne staring at her from across the room? Perhaps she really should call it a day if such phantoms were paying her a visit. But this Wynne was far more substantial than the other Wynnes, her brothers, the Jades, and Eliases that cast a flicker of doubt and then vanished; this one was not jumping around in her periphery or splitting from her senses upon recognition. Regan narrowed her eyes. Wynne remained both with and without her fís bháis, but she quickly flitted between the two anyway, now doubting her brain rather than her vision. Did the source of the delusion matter? It changed nothing.

“You’re a stubborn one.” There was no amusement in her tone, but when she realized she had switched to English, as if this Wynne would not be able to understand otherwise, a tickle of something heavier rose up in her chest. She was quick to smother it out. “Anyone out there waiting behind you? At least make yourself useful, if you are going to be my tormentor for the moment.”

-------

Something about this place reminded Wynne of home. Mostly in sinister ways, with the way death hung in the air and seemed to be part of every breath taken and move made. They understood why both Siobhan and Regan had mistaken them for their ilk and found that even here, it was doable to seem like they fit in. They knew animal bones, after all. They knew what it was like to respect death, to see it as something with as much purpose as life. They knew sacrifice.

And though these were all things they had escaped, they had twenty one years of experience with thinking in such a way. They fell back easily into it. If it weren’t for the people at home they missed, they might even grow filled with longing for a community like this again. But they didn’t, because they weren’t here for fun or play — they were here to help Regan as she’d helped them. They were here because places like these were bad, restrictive, perhaps even cruel at times. Because there was community to be found without sacrifice and constriction. And it was terrifying, to be somewhere so foreign yet familiar, to wonder if maybe – if they were sniffed out – they would become just another banshee sacrifice.

They had found their way to the clinic, which was where Dr Kavanagh supposedly was. Wynne felt tense taking up space, but that wasn’t much out of the ordinary. They didn’t understand the Gaelic spoken anywhere, so they just did what they were good at — bow their head and keep quiet. The waiting room was thankfully empty, save for a bowl of bone-shaped candies. They were hesitant, trailing around and wringing their hands, growing increasingly tense at the sound of Dr Kavanagh’s voice, but eventually reached for one. Maybe Nora would like one. And really, they were curious. Curse their trembling hands, though, as the subtle attempt to take one singular candy led to the bowl clanging onto the floor loudly. It seemed nothing could be done quietly in this corner of the world.

They crouched down, starting to sweep the bones into a heap and pouring them back in a bowl. They were trying not to cry, were trying to gather the courage to just walk in the room that Regan’s voice was coming from. But eventually she showed up, standing in the doorway in a white coat that was stained with blood. Wynne dropped a bone candy and it skittered away and they raised to their feet. Mouth agape (this was rude — so they shut it the second they noticed), eyes searching for a source of the blood. Had someone hurt Dr Kavanagh? The way people had tried to hurt Wynne when they’d come back home? How did banshees dole out discipline? Was Regan’s mother like Padrig had been to them, responsible for her obedience and duty? They blinked slowly, confused by Regan’s words. “It – yes – I maybe am stubborn. And it’s just me. I can —” They swallowed. “I can help. That’s what I’m here for! Not torment. To help. Are you okay? What’s that on your coat?”

-------

Wynne’s voice came out of Wynne’s mouth. Which would have been grand, except Wynne couldn’t be here; it was impossible. Not only impossible. They couldn’t be here. It would be their death, or someone’s death (no scream – right, there was no scream). Regan thought of Hamstring, the lie, how she increasingly spoke of Declan with fondness despite Regan’s pleas to pretend she had no interest in the boy, the spare. How it would inevitably unravel in bloody strands. Good intentions only brought more death and more suffering; here, it was in opposition to Fate.

“Blood… not mine.” She pointed lamely to the room behind her. “Clinic.”

Help. What a notion.

Wynne. Who should not have had the spine to follow her here. What happened? How was this even possible? Regan wasn’t sure why she was humoring it. The ham child snuck in with her luggage, but this place was not on any map. And did Wynne even have a passport (as if that was the most outlandish part of this)? No, this was some conjuration from part of her brain that she came here to ablate. For now, Regan would proceed under the assumption that this Wynne was just some manifestation of a mind gone rogue, of her longing for Wicked’s Rest (or rather, the people she left behind there– no, backtrack, do not think about Jade, do not get soggy again). She stared some more. She could not stop staring. When would the apparition vanish?

Regan’s eyes did not leave Wynne as she circled to the door, opened it a crack and flipped the sign. It now read: Dúnta. Scread más éigeandáil é.

Her face stayed impassive as her mind raced. Don’t speak to the macallaí, her grandmother once said. They only cling more. They become real. And what was Wynne if not an echo, a ghost? Regan no longer heard herself calling back, so others, like Wynne, were offering their voices.

“If you’re real…” She started, tone flat yet steeped in skepticism, and she circled Wynne as she spoke, “...then you’re on the wrong side of the Atlantic. Are you aware of that? Do you know where you are at all?” What a foolish question. But then, she felt like a fool. She just wasn’t yet sure if it was for entertaining the possibility that Wynne was here, or doubting that they were. Saol Eile was practically impossible to find and enter.

But Reilly had found her a year ago.

“Prove that you’re really here.” On some level, Regan knew it wasn’t fair to ask something of Wynne when she had no idea what Wynne could even do to fulfill the request. On the other hand, what in the putrid ulcer was this?

-------

It wasn’t her blood, which was some relief. Wynne remembered that Dr Kavanagh was indeed a doctor, and that it wasn’t just part of her name and there was some reassurance to be found in that, even if it was slim pickings. Why were there people bleeding here? They remembered Nora’s wounds with a grimace, remembered the blood spilled at home. Spread on cheeks, drained from a chicken, a lamb, a youth.

They blinked. “Oh.” They swallowed. “Does it get … busy? Is it … good work?”

Would the clinic look the same as her office, with the walls lined with dead things? The place that Wynne had come to without invite as well, bringing gifts. Their hands were empty now. No time for homemade yogurt and if they had found a dead bird, they were pretty sure another person would have taken it off their hands before they could have gotten it here. But they brought other things, didn’t they? Themself, though that wasn’t very spectacular. Elias, who wore his bleeding heart on his sleeve. (They had lost him, though, and they were trying not to think about the implications of losing a tall man among murderous banshees.) And then there were the messages from others who Regan and subsequently Nora had left behind, back at home.

They took in the doctor as she circled them, saw the wings laying flat against her back and felt their breath get stuck in their throat. It tended to do that every time they saw a banshee with their wings out, a sight that filled them with awe. They hadn’t yet dared to ask any of them if they could fly. They hadn’t asked to touch them either.

They refocused on Dr Kavanagh’s face and mouth and the words she was saying. “I … yes, I know, I saw it in the plane beneath me. I don’t think I ever saw anything prettier.” Wynne didn’t think that was relevant, but that too had filled them with awe. “I am in your commune. I – we, we searched for a long time. We sat and waited until we heard a scream and then we saw it, everything. Elias and me, that’s we. He’s — we got separated.”

Wynne was quiet for a moment, trying to figure out how they could prove they were really here. “Um…” They crouched down and picked up a bone candy. Slowly they got back up to their full height and threw the candy at Regan, where it bounced against her chest and fell back onto the ground. “I’m here. Really.”

-------

“Some days. It’s fine.” Regan said tersely, still half-convinced she was speaking only to herself. Injuries she treated were mostly self-inflicted, which hollowed her out a little more each day. Back when Regan had lived here in the past, it took a couple of years before Cliodhna and the others trusted her to be able to do this, to have some sort of purpose beyond the great one being prescribed to her. It was simultaneously one of the few pockets of comfort here, and one that stripped away her pericardium the fastest. Her grandmother might have recognized that before Regan did. That might have been the whole point.

Wynne’s small voice was the gentlest she’d heard in days that felt like months. Even when Regan imagined others from back home (don’t, don’t, don’t), they did not speak to her like this. They were limited by what kindness Regan could extend to herself, which depleted like a skeleton getting picked clean by the hour. What would be left once the soft tissue was gone (please, wouldn’t it go?) would be perfect, stark, eternal.

She frowned at the familiar vision, interloper, whatever they were. Regan would not have called this place a commune. That was Wynne’s term. And… we. Who– her heart thumped for a certain impossible answer. When it wasn’t that, surely that should have been better. Not really. Elias’s name was like a bone snapping in her ears. “What? You brought him with you? Are you mad? Both of you?” Even she was surprised by the lack of rote monotone… just when she had been improving. Sort of. Tiny specks of improvement awash in failures. Regan pressed her hand to her forehead. This headache had to leave her. Because it was that, right? A migraine. She had never had a migraine, but that was beyond the point. It was never too late to start (yes it was, you could be too old to succeed at something, it was easier to fail after so many wasted years).

Regan didn’t know what Wynne had in mind when they reached for one of the candies. Were they going to eat it? That didn’t prove a thing. But then it arced through the air and bounced like a bird hitting a window when it struck her sternum. Narrowed eyes filled black and met Wynne’s.

She did not want to think about what her grandmother would have done in response to the insult. A human throwing a piece of candy at a banshee. But she was thinking about it anyway. Would Cliodhna have reached for Wynne’s wrist and pulverized their carpal bones? Regan found her boot hovering over the candy, but… she bent down and picked it up instead, turning it over in her hands. Pocketing it.

No. She could not think about her grandmother and Wynne ever being in the same place.

But… were they? The answer started in her chest, twisted her stomach, and then made her brain feel like it had been starved of oxygen. Wynne in Saol Eile. How? She wasn’t sure yet. But clearly she should have tied more than only Jade to their words. A mass of questions formed in Regan’s mind and clotted there, but she couldn’t cough them out. Where was Elias? Was he somewhere safe? He shouldn’t be alone here. Was Wynne safe? Had they talked to anyone? How was this possible? And how could she even begin to ask about Jade? Should she? No matter the answer, it would be sharper than any blade. And Van, Erin, Metzli… even Emilio. The names started tripping over themselves. Her breathing, the same. She paced across the small room. Wynne was here. They hadn’t stowed away like the ham child. How had they even found this place? They weren’t safe. Had there been glass in here, it would have cut a thousand times.

“Wynne…” How do you tell someone they wasted their time crossing the Atlantic for you? How do you tell their heart that? “I’m not going back with you. I’m sorry.” Something heavy and thick welled up inside her chest, but there was no scream to lock in. “You… it isn’t a wasted trip, though. There is someone you need to take back with you. The ham child is here. I don’t know how you managed to find this place, but you will collect her, and you will leave.”

-------

Maybe they weren’t the best person to judge whether Dr Kavanagh was happy here. Wynne hadn’t often seen her happy in Wicked’s Rest, after all — but there had been that moment with the rabbit or when they had brought the bird. Most of the time, though, she seemed as contained and closed as most things they had encountered in life and they’d accepted that much. But hadn’t Regan told her to demand more? Shouldn’t she demand more?

Because despite them not being in any position to try and rule on her happiness, Wynne did have a feeling that Regan wasn’t happy here. She didn’t talk of her work the way she had back at home. She didn’t ask if they’d brought a creature of some sort. And then there was all Nora had said. (And maybe, as they often did when it came to the other, they were projecting — maybe they didn’t want her to be happy, because if she was happy that might mean that they would be happier back home.)

They pressed, a little. “Do you miss your old job?” It was innocuous enough. Emilio had taught them, hadn’t he? Play the role of the naive. Was it playing when that’s what they were? They weren’t sure.

They remained standing there as Regan asked them about Elias, no flinch coursing through their bones. Part of them had wanted to, though, but they’d both known that Dr Kavanagh wouldn’t be happy if they showed up. Wynne hadn’t expected a hug and a tour. “He … well, we brought each other. I don’t think I could’ve done this alone.” They shrugged. They were quiet for a moment. “Maybe. But I think being here might also be mad. I don’t want you to be somewhere that’s bad for you.”

Though they hadn’t flinched before, they did feel themself tense in anticipation the moment they’d thrown that bone. As narrowed, inky eyes landed on them they shrunk a little, expecting to be berated and disciplined, to be told off, for Regan to mirror the elders they’d once had in their life. But for those people Wynne wouldn’t do this. For those people Wynne hadn’t gone after that demon, either. Regan was different than their former elders — she was better. But she was also – perhaps just like those other elders and certainly just like Wynne – misguided.

But the hammer didn’t fall, as it never did. Regan was kind like that. It would have been forgivable, had she yelled, but in stead she just picked up the little bone and put it away. They just hoped it was enough to prove they were there — Wynne wasn’t really sure how else to go about it as everything around them felt surreal. It felt surreal in Wicked’s Rest too, though: that’s just how they tended to feel about the world and their body in it.

Regan spoke again and said the dreaded thing, the thing they’d already known. They nodded, because they did hear what she was saying. It made sense to Wynne, who had stayed for years and years in a place that wished them dead. “I know. I mean, I knew you’d say that. But I am here to try anyway.” They thought of Nora. “I know Hamstring is here. She told me you don’t want to leave, but you also know she won’t leave without you. I think the same goes for Elias.” A beat. Did that go for them, too? Wynne wasn’t forceful, weren’t as determined as Nora or as brilliant as Elias. They were here, once, in a place where a perfect hole was cut out for them and they belonged. Where they were with people like them. They understood that Regan didn’t want to go, even if it was better. But they understood that Regan had left once before, just as they had. That there was more than what blood demanded. “Me too.”

Wynne didn’t like idle hands, so they knelt down, starting to gather fallen bones while looking at Regan. “Why do you want to be here?” They looked around. “What is there here that you don’t have in Maine?” They put the bones back in the bowl, they clinked merrily even though there was nothing happy to find here. “I … I understand duty. I understand sacrifice. I understand that home isn’t always kind but that it’s still home and that that isn’t a place you should leave.” More bones gathered. Why were there so many? Why did they feel so heavy, like rocks? They turned one over in their restless hands. “And that you feel you don’t want to leave. I just think maybe …” They swallowed. “There is more.”

-------

It hadn’t taken long for Elias and Wynne to get separated. With all the fantasticalness that was being surrounded by a bunch of fae, Elias forgot to stick to the buddy system. Which, par for the course, really. After rooting around for what felt like hours, he finally found himself captured by a tall, very serious banshee woman. She had long copper hair and piercing green eyes. Elias could find himself very easily lost in them if he wasn’t careful. He needed to be careful. “Who do you belong to?” She spoke plainly, clearly annoyed by his very presence.

Elias blinked owlishly in return to the woman’s question. “Uh…” he trailed off, realizing he had no idea if Regan went by Regan here. “Great, you’re stupid, too.” The banshee rolled her eyes and tugged him along. “Come, we’ll get you checked at the clinic.” She insisted, hand gripping tightly on his arm as she forced him to follow. The clinic, that’s absolutely where he’d find Regan. He tried to stifle his enthusiasm.

As he was dragged along, he caught glimpses of women with wings and fantastical things, but it wasn’t something he could stop and take notes about, no. This woman had him in a choke hold and was dragging him along to see Regan, the whole purpose of his mission here. As they entered the clinic, the woman shot him a withering stare. “Stay put.” She hissed before turning to Regan and Wynne. “I found this one wandering without a chaperone.” She spoke, her voice dripping with disdain. Elias looked over to Regan finally and gave a bright smile. He didn’t dare wave. He didn’t dare move. He was still stuck to this scary banshee woman.

-------

“I don’t miss, and I don’t want.” It was a lie that took a smaller bite out of her each day. At least Wynne registered no surprise at Regan’s refusal. This mission was dead on arrival. Normally, she liked that. Not right now. She didn’t approve of the mission. “So you’re aware this is mad, you’re aware of the ham child’s situation, and you have no idea what is keeping me here. Yet you will not leave without me.” There had been a pause before Wynne’s declaration, though, and Regan was curious what they had been weighing. Some weakness she could use to call Wynne back to Maine? The girlfriend, maybe. Others left behind. So many cared for them, as evident by what happened at Moosehead Lake. This would be at their expense, all of those people; did Wynne realize that? Did Elias?

Regan pulled a long breath through her teeth (she was not frustrated, she wasn’t) and hunched down, scooping up the candy with Wynne. Not to help. Only to rid the floor of hazards. And it gave her somewhere to look that was not into Wynne’s sad – and mature beyond their years – eyes. Wynne did deserve more answers at the least, and perhaps they could bring them to Elias and then home to others so no one else had this foolish idea take root in their brain.

“Like I said, I do not want. But if I go back, I will hurt people. I do not mean the temporary sting of separation. Not tomorrow, maybe not the day after, but it’s an inevitability. My grandmother always said control only comes with duty, and for us, that’s true. And why should Fate look kindly upon a rogue instrument?” Regan swept the last of the nearby candies back into the bowl and rose again, practically looking through Wynne. “We give up a lot for control. Nearly everything. If a banshee is… suitable, the lessons stick, the mind and heart quiet, and control is as simple as breathing. That can only be learned here.” She hesitated, unsure how much to tell Wynne about what went on at the cabin. Vague, as always, was where she landed. “I tried to continue what I was learning while in Wicked’s Rest. It did not work. It lost effectiveness. I lost effectiveness. Should I have waited until Jade exploded into millions of pieces against me? Or until I brought down a building? Until something terrible happened that I would need to live with for centuries? No…” She swallowed the growing lump in her throat. Speaking that name nearly choked her.

Regan crossed her arms, letting the weakness pass, but she could not completely shake it. Her voice grew quiet. “Here, I have the potential for more, someday.” But she would not want it when it came. “Does that–”

The door was thrown open and time seemed to slow down for a second, affording Regan three thoughts in quick succession. One, had they not read the sign on the door? Two, she needed to hide Wynne or at least be ready to provide an excuse for them being there. And three, it was Brenna, an acquaintance of her grandmother’s who seemed to be… strangling someone? Very tall. Male. Elias. Regan opened her mouth to protest but there was no telling how this was going to shake out yet. Give it a moment. Regan stood a little straighter – other banshees always stretched out her spine – and whatever weakness Wynne and Jade had drawn out was wiped from her face. Even with Elias there. Especially with Elias there, if he was to remain in one piece. The fool, what was he– “You were right to bring him here,” Regan cleared her throat, returning the Irish from Brenna. “Long and lanky, yes? It’s no wonder he’s unfamiliar; he probably sees little sunlight.” Lucky Elias didn’t know Gaeilge. Regan sighed, feigning boredom, and stretched new gloves over her hands. She stared down, making a show of wiggling each finger into the perfect fit as she spoke. Ready to do a full cavity search. “Leave him with me. I will do a thorough examination and find where he belongs.”

Brenna’s radiant hair swished as she turned to Wynne. That was bad. And, worse: Brenna’s eyes went dark as she searched for answers, clues, but she would not find any on the human. Regan’s mind jumped to a lie, however unnatural it felt – she had spared Hamstring some danger for now, and she might be able to do the same for Wynne. “I am preparing the human for an chéad scread.” Regan supplied it in English this time (at least the parts she knew the English for), so Wynne did not do anything rash to contradict what they did not understand. Her stomach felt molten at the flagrant lie, but just as she had with Cliodhna, she did not let it reach her face. “It will not be for some time – it’s for one of the children who came of age while I was gone. You won’t scream now.” Brenna seemed to accept this, and pushed a flailing Elias in Regan’s direction. Regan caught his arm and steadied him, not too overtly caring, only practical, given their company. Brenna switched back to English too, a show for the humans. She craved the drama, always did. Regan’s grandmother had some limited fondness for Brenna, but complained of her histrionics frequently. “Doctor. I changed my mind, it is good you’re back. We finally have someone to handle all of these humans. The old band-aid dispenser was not as thorough.” She waved a deceptively delicate hand toward Elias and Wynne. “Someone has to do it, right, this low work? It must feel like such a waste.” Regan didn’t have to respond; Brenna was already out the door, and when it slammed shut, she was left with the two humans.

No, Wynne and Elias. Relief swelled inside of her that Elias was not only located, but here, safe, for now. It was short-lived when the reality of the situation became unbearably obvious. Her eyes lifted blue again as she shot the iciest glare between them, lethal enough to kill the dead a second time. The two needed to see how cross she was, because if anger was going to mark her failure right now, it was better brought to the surface where it might make them leave. If she was going to answer for something, let it not be their lives. “Wynne said you’re not going without me. I was telling them this is impossible, and you have demonstrated why. You just became human sacrifices.”

-------

Regan laid out the flawed plan and Wynne could only blink at it, the foolishness of it all. It was mad, wasn’t it? A lost cause? A problem with no solution. Wishful thinking and a reality that would never agree with that fantasy. Except they had been in impossible situations before. Wynne had spent most of their life preparing for a death that was inescapable, a fate that had been promised to them at birth. Life had been lied out for them and it had been that simple, that definitive.

But they had left. They had left and yes, someone had gotten hurt. They had left and they’d stumbled like a newly born lamb, wide-eyed and shaky on their legs but they’d left and broken with that definitiveness. Regan had helped them with that. They looked at her, trying to find the right way to put that sentiment into words. Their thoughts were like the bones scattered over the floor. The other was better at scooping up, at putting things into methodical and clear words while Wynne was still scrambling, picking up bone after bone and trying to string a sentence together to explain what had brought them here. “This can’t be all there is,” they interjected, once.

And then the other laid more on the table than sheer logic — there was something like fear, too. Wynne wasn’t sure exactly how banshees worked, how this place worked, and that made it tough. How could they argue something they didn’t know? “I don’t … I just don’t see how this place can help, when back in Maine –” They breathed in. “You have people there.” They were trying to find the words still, but there was no point in the hunt any more as the door burst open.

Their back straightened, eyes dancing from the strange banshee to Elias. Wide, questioning, wondering if he was okay but attempting not to give an inch. There was the Irish lilt again, the language that was impossible to decipher. They just stood there, waiting for the stranger to leave the room, hoping that she would and that they hadn’t brought any issues to where Regan now conducted her business. When she switched to English to address them, albeit indirectly, they didn’t speak. This was a role Wynne could fulfill, even if they didn’t know what an chéad scread was. They knew what being prepared for something was, and though they were ignorant, their experience came in perfectly. They barely registered the disrespect, watched Elias flail towards Regan and themself and remained that same thing they had been at home — head bowed, submissive, understanding that they were part of something bigger. They were just playing at it now, though. Weren’t they?

Weren’t they?

But then finally Regan spoke again, with cold eyes and an anger Wynne knew intimately. Not from her, but from others. They heard the words echo, those two last ones. Circling around their mind. Sacrifice, human, human sacrifice. Murder with no real purpose. Inevitable, the inescapable grasp of fate in the back of their neck like Padrig's meaty fingers digging in their flesh. And this time they had ran towards it. They paled, stumbled, wished the candies were still on the ground so they could crouch down again and become smaller. Their mouth opened, but it took a moment before a sound to come out, “No.” They heard how pathetic it sounded, how small and scratchy, how desperate. But the sentiment remained.

Regan and Siobhan had both told them that it wasn’t their fate to die, so why did this happen again, again, again? The knife at home, the ustras in the woods, the vampires in the barn, the monster that had attacked Van, and now this. “We won’t. And you — you won’t … you said.” They shook their head, not wanting to speak against fate when it was screaming at them. “You said to demand. That’s what we’re doing.”

-------

As soon as the banshee had left, so too did Elias’s inability to speak up for himself. So much had gotten him to this point, and he wasn’t about to throw that all away because some banshee decided they were now going to be a human sacrifice. A human sacrifice? No, Elias decided. Too long had he been a sitting duck for other people’s decisions. He went to engineering school for his family. He went to Ireland for Regan. He was done letting himself be tossed around from side to side like he was a boat on a stormy sea. As soon as the door shut, Elias’s face went cold and angry. “Regan, we’re here because you’re being fucking ridiculous.” Out went a happy-go-lucky Elias. If this quest had taught him anything, it was that if he wanted to get something done, he had to demand answers.

“You came here because you decided you needed to be. Why? Because of someone else’s decisions.” He thrust his finger at the door he’d been pushed through by Brenna. “You’re here because you think you can only be a successful banshee by surrounding yourself with archaic views of the past. What about us?” Elias’s eyes widened, and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “What about your friends that you can call a family? Wynne, the freaky girl, and I are in Ireland for you.” He thrust his finger in Regan’s direction this time.

Elias’s voice dropped from the mounting anger to one of desperation and deep sadness. “I told you I’d do anything for you. This is me doing anything. You belong with us. With Jade. You belong in Wicked’s Rest where you made yourself be something more than what your grandmother told you to be!” His voice grew louder as he spoke until he was nearly shouting. He stopped, took a deep breath, and rubbed a hand down his face in clear exasperation.

Poor Elias Kahtri, always wearing his heart on his sleeve, feels too deeply only to be rejected by everyone in his life. It stopped here. “We’re not leaving without you. And I’m not stopping until I get you to see that what you’re doing here is pointless. If these people cared about you, they wouldn’t force you into a box. I know this is what you think you need, but what about what the rest of us need?” He looked to the distressed and sullen Wynne and shook his head. He didn’t know what Wynne had been through, but he’d picked up on their clear nervousness and naivety about the world to know that there was something deeper he hadn’t been told about. That wasn’t his business.

Elias stared down at the ground as he made his final point, hands balled into tight fists. “I came here because I decided some people are worth crossing oceans for.” His voice was quiet and nearly imperceptible as he spoke. Finally, he looked up to meet Regan’s eyes. “To us, you’re worth moving mountains for. I told you I would. This is me doing it. So don’t leave us to be sacrificed for some old-fashioned women who hate humans. Come with us.”

-------

Sacrifices. Regan already was one in her own right, carved out at the altar, and now they would join her. What else could she have said? Anything else would have gotten back to her grandmother. And then not only would Wynne and Elias be outed as fr– humans from Maine, but Cliodhna would have figured the same of the ham child, too. And then all three of them would have served a slightly different function, but would be dead all the same (what it would be, Regan wasn’t sure – perhaps they would be blown up as a demonstration to a child, or tossed in the tar pit, or given as an offering to the worms; each possibility made her blood drain downward as her mind flicked through them all). But Elias and Wynne could still get out of here before anyone started looking for them. Or they could hide away until they could be smuggled. It wasn’t too late. She just needed to knock some sense into their thick skulls (unfortunately, this seemed more like a trepanation situation, blunt force trauma only got you so far).

“This is not what I meant by demanding.” Had Regan needed any more proof that Wynne really was there, that would have supplied it. “You were supposed to make demands for your own life, demand respect from those around you and for yourself, so you are no longer satisfied with being pushed around and accepting what is given to you. But you don’t make demands of me. You don’t ask anything of me. Either of you.” The tight squeeze in her lungs would have been sufficient to punch out the lights, had there been any available for the role. What use was anything she had done here, any progress she had made, if she could not keep a lid on the rising tide inside of her? She tried to remind herself of that. Her fingers squeezed against the bandages beneath her gloves, but she only felt the hard jade ring around her finger, assaulted by ghosts both present and far away.

They should have meant little to her. Maybe not nothing, not yet – it could take years – but why had practically nothing changed? It wasn’t working. Her stomach bled, she coughed water from her lungs for hours, she had struck herself until her cheeks were dry, but everything felt… backwards. Like the clinic was the oddity, Ireland the thing that was out of place, not Elias and Wynne. Ever the failure, she still saw familiar faces when she looked at the two of them. More than familiar. More than acquaintances. There was a harsh pricking in her sinuses and she was quick to refuse it. Regan’s eyes filled with black again, breaking the hold the ghosts had on her. Coward, she thought, knowing she was taking an easy way out of locking in any nascent tears. Did it matter? Not if it worked. She noted trails of darkness wafting from the examination room, bones at their point of origin. There was nothing over Wynne (they did not come bearing gifts like usual) and Elias was alive as ever. Let’s keep it that way, she reminded herself.

There was truth to what both of them said, and Regan rose to challenge it with all that she had to become. She tried to press her voice flat, to cram and twist her hand down on top of it like she could plug it with her palm, and perhaps there was some degree of success, an improvement from how she had sounded back in Wicked’s Rest, a facsimile of a heartless drone, but all she heard was the child Cliodhna knew her to be. “You come here knowing absolutely nothing and expect me to follow you out like some complacent leanbh. I serve Fate, not you. You don’t know why I came here, you don’t know enough to call anything archaic, and you assume I think anyone here cares for me or that it matters.” Regan had never once been under the illusion that her grandmother loved her. That anyone humored her presence for any reason other than her medical expertise and bloodline. She hadn’t come here seeking affection. The assumptions continued: calling her a person, presuming banshees hated humans (could hate anything). Any rising emotion in her voice was exterminated like she’d choked it with a cold fist. Under her gloves, she imagined blood soaking through bandage, and her heart finally, after minutes of attempting to get it to quiet, slowed. “I have already told you, I am not coming with you. I belong here. You do not.”

She could do this. She would. Elias was close, his big, sopping eyes boring straight into hers. And there was Wynne, sweet, timid Wynne, who had the fire of determination kindling in their eyes with every passing moment the word sacrifice still rang through the room. They would scrape away at her composure if she let them and she’d slide back into that marshy affectation; she would not let so many days of her own sacrifice crumble because of a few charged words and too much self-reflection. (Did the ring hear that? It ought to.)

Regan could prevent this from becoming a complete failure. She knew what she needed to do because she had done it before: she had left, clenching a tangle of the heart’s veins and arteries between her fingers, only some of them from her own body. Her wings flicked once against her back as she turned away. If anything, didn’t they mark her as being something of this place? So let them have a nice, long look. Regan paused in front of the counter, sliding a key on it. She did not face them, and her voice remained stiff as the dead. “There is an upstairs. It will be dusty and uncomfortable, but there are a few extra patient chairs and a bathroom. I expect you to be silent while I have others here. Explain to anyone who stops you outside – as I recognize that you will need to leave – that you are being examined by me. I will arrange for your departure.” Before they died for their stupidity. Somehow.

Her body decided to give her one final test. It froze before the doorway. Her legs knew where the rest of her wanted to be, but this was why the body had to be trained, and it would be trained. Regan inhaled a long breath, her shoulders forcing themselves tight, upright, and she walked out on those who crossed an ocean for her.

-------

Elias did what no one ever had for Wynne back at home. He attempted to shake Regan awake, to demanded that she see reason, that this martyrdom – imposed by herself but her family, too – was something cruel. He was fighting for her in a way they weren’t sure how to do, even if they agreed with some of the ideas he vocalized. And it all seemed so simple, coming from his mouth. Like these were the easiest things to say and ask of another, as if he didn’t feel weighed down with the recognition that made it hard for them to breathe. They were glad he was here.

Who were they, after all? Stumbling and uncomfortable, all too aware of why Regan was here and why she didn’t want to leave? Their mind traveled to Metzli, who had tied themself up in a small room out of fear of hurting someone. They thought of themself, never daring to step a toe out of line at home, afraid that even thinking of abandoning their duty would hurt their community. But Metzli had left the confines of that place and Wynne had turned their back and eventually made up for the carnage caused — or at least so they thought.

Responsibility and duty weighed heavy, but why should they have to constrict a person? They looked between the two, the difference in emotion that painted their features and they felt hopelessly powerless. They felt their chest grow tight at the prospect of remaining in this place where they might have to climb on an altar after all, and it being all for naught. Would Regan truly watch them die and stand by?

They would like to think not, but they had been repeatedly disappointed in that area before.

So they were quiet. They didn’t have the speech that Elias had, were dumbfounded and struggling to verbalize what they did believe to be the truth. That there were alternatives, that there were always other ways — that it didn’t have to be the way others always said it had to be.

But they glanced at Regan, “Shouldn’t you demand better too?” It was said quietly. “Shouldn’t you be respected?” That woman, before, she had been cruel. Nora had said they called Regan a baby. Wynne knew what it looked like to be respected — they had been, once. Sanctified and revered, considered someone of a higher ranking within the commune. They knew hierarchy. They felt it exist around them in this place.

She was so clinical, so distant and hard to grasp. Wynne felt their voice die out again, just watched the wings flutter and waited for Regan to turn around. Maybe this would be easier without Elias here, who didn’t know about the demon, the sacrifices, the home they had once abandoned. Maybe they should tell him about it in the attic they were being pointed to.

They moved forward and took the key. There was a moment of hesitation and then they pulled their backpack towards them, opening up the front pocket to produce a few slips of paper. Written letters, more eloquent than their attempts at convincing Regan had been. “These are for you,” they said. They didn’t say any more, didn’t beg the other to stay. Some things took time, especially in a mind that was filled with teachings that might not be correct. Wynne knew this, even if they didn’t understand it. Most of all, they didn’t want Regan to be mad again.

They watched as the other left without the letters, silent and unmoving and struck with a look of defeat. Soon enough they’d remember how they had left in the end. How Metzli had left in the end. How Regan had left once before. They looked at Elias. “Let’s go upstairs.”

-------

There were so many more things that Elias had wanted to say to Regan, to make her see sense, but in the end, he’d done his part. He’d said his peace, and now it was up to Regan to want it. After all, how do you help someone unwilling to see reason? Who doesn’t think that they need it? You can’t. So Elias took Regan’s response with a blank expression as if he were receiving feedback from a superior. “Fine. Walk into a world where no one respects you. Walk away from everyone who cares about you.” He spoke, tone clipped and angry.

Yelling at Regan would do nothing. It wouldn’t make him feel better either, but the way he wanted to grab her shoulders and shake her back and forth until she came around, he knew it wouldn’t work. She had to want it. And she didn’t want it. He didn’t say anything as Regan left and didn’t try to fight here anymore. He’d said what he needed to say.

He looked to Wynne, who looked like they were battling a storm behind their eyes. They spoke quietly, and Elias nodded his head in agreement. He didn’t look up to Regan; he just kept his gaze focused on the floor. If he looked up, it would risk Regan seeing the anger in his eyes. He didn’t want to be angry at her. He wanted to be angry at everyone in her life, which led her to believe that this was what her life was supposed to be. Her life belonged wherever she pleased with Jade at her side. Not this, where creativity and personality were stifled in order to serve ‘fate.’

When Regan froze in the doorway, Elias’s face fell. He finally looked up at Regan’s frozen form and sighed. “We came here because we love you. Not because we think you need to serve anything.” He finally said after the anger had dissipated. “Just think about what we’ve said. Read the letters.” He finally tore his gaze away from Regan and looked to Wynne and nodded, a look of defeat clear in his eyes. “Yeah.” He said meekly, shuffling for the stairs. “Let’s… go hide.”

#writing #c wynne #c elias #self harm tw

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thewitchqueenofharrenhal · 4 months

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If I had a nickel every time, I came across a post that said it's Elia's mom's fault for what happened to her I would have enough money to buy myself double quarter pounder from McDonalds. I swear these people will blame anyone for Rhaegar's actions but Rhaegar himself. Their argument is that mama Martell should have known better than to marry off her sickly daughter to the crown prince cause she would've had to have as many children as possible. Okay then why aren't they criticizing Aerys for choosing a sickly wife for his son? Where's the "A wiser king would've chosen a healthier wife for his heir" comments? I think they just don't want a woman of color having ambitions and goals.

I think the implication here is some “when you play the game of thrones you win or you die” type argument because of the *speculated* beef between the Ruling Lady of Dorne & Tywin Lannister.

Which again just falls a part on a deeper analysis. It’s made pretty clear throughout the text that Tywin always had designs on seeing Cersei be a Queen.

The same does not apply to the ruling Lady of Dorne, she very liberally allows *some* level of freedom to all three of her children in choosing a spouse. We know she had designs on Jaime & Cersei because of her previous love with Joanna. An alliance that would have served Tywin but unfortunately fell through. There is never stated to be designs on a Queenship.

When The ruling lady of Dorne got the call for Elia as a bride for Rhaegar whether that came from Rhaella or Aerys is unknown but why shouldn’t she say yes? Lol. Rhaegar by all reports would have been a spectacular catch. This obsession with prophecy wasn’t common knowledge beyond the prince being bookish and what’s wrong with that? Why shouldn’t Elia be Queen if given the chance?

The argument on Elia’s health falls through because Elia has two children in a very short time. I don’t want to get into the (women birthing argument) because it’s nasty gross and misogynistic but she *does her duty* by House Targaryen in an heir and a spare. Rhaella in comparison has one son for many years and I don’t see anyone in the fandom crying over her lack of rights to her Queenship? It’s safe to say Elia met expectations and that argument needs to go.

Elia was going to have to be wed one way or another and why not to the best match of all? Elia’s mother should have said no to appease Tywin’s bruised ego? Or the ego of the many Rhaelyas who are delusional enough to think Lyanna was ever in the running to be bride of the crown prince ?

They definitely hate to see a woc having ambition and making power plays and it’s gross af that’s why they love the Rhaegar & Lyanna footrest Elia fanfics.

But no Elia’s demise was a result of Tywin’s moral decay and a dash of Targaryen madness.

#anon #asoiaf #elia martell

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robotnik-mun · 4 months

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One of the more interesting things you see in the old Archie, from time to time, is how despite how long the series was around the multiple writers it acquired, writers who often had conflicting visions for the series, some points became consistent almost by accident.

Case in point? Illustrating why the Freedom Fighters were so successful against Robotnik and later Eggman. What am I talking about? Well, let me elaborate.

It begins with this guy, Armand D'Coolette, Antoine's dad.

Poor Armand. Try and imagine how everything looked from his perspective- during the Great War he witnessed the near ruinatin of the Kingdom of Acorn, and was (rightly) suspicious of Julian Kintobor from the start… only to watch as this man ascend to the rank of Warlord ahead of him, a general with years of service to the King… and yet, the traitor manages to save the Kingdom when Armand failed, and is vindicated. Only for it to turn out Armand was right the whole time…

But, enough pontificating on the sad fate of Armand. Let us get to the point- how is it that ARmand helps to illustrate why the Freedom Fighters were so effective against Robotnik? Well, one detail that emerged after Endgame was that in the past, Armand had an entire troop under his command and confronted Robotnik directly, only to seemingly fall in battle.

This detail would be elaborated upon years later as him having led a remnant of the Royal Army to try and retake Mobotropolis after the coup, only for the uprising to be crushed (with Rotor's father Sherman being among the casualties). For years though this detail would be little more than a footnote, an odd bit of backstory trivia. But it does establish a very important fact in the old Archie Sonic continuity, on that accidentally remains consistent throughout its time- confronting Robotnik/Eggman in a conventional war just doesn't work.

Much later, in issue #88, we are treated to a rather dramatic event- King Acorn leading an army into Robotropolis to rescue a captured Elias.

It's a very impressive display… but in the end, while the mission does succeed, it is clearly because of the advantage granted by SOnic and the Swore of Acorns rather than the numbers they have. The mission ends with King Acorn getting a bump on the noggin' that leaves him unable to use his legs, and you are left to realize that the Freedom Fighter guerilla techniques would've worked out a lot better. We don't see how many lives are lost openly confronting the Shadowbots, but in the end it's clear that the Freedom Fighters could've gotten the same results with a lot less damage and potential loss of life.

So, in short? Between Armand and this scene, it establishes that taking on these robot armies in the open, in a conventional manner, is an extremely bad idea. In an ideal world, the Swatbots first used by Robotnik would've been part of a robot army he used to defeat his own people during the GReat War, before using it to conquer the Kingdom of Acorn from within and then the rest of Mobius. Alas, this is not an ideal world… but still, all this does make it clear how Robotnik managed to conquer the Kingdom of Acorn and then the other nations of Mobius- against his robot armies, conventional warfare just doesn't work out.

And the effectiveness of Guerilla Tactics takes on a new context with the addition of a batch of characters, in issue 142…

The Original Freedom Fighters are a controversial addition to the book, and it's easy to see why. Getting aside from most of them having lackluster designs and names, as well as the cliche of the SNAKE being the traitor, there existence retcons the entire story and motivation of the Freedom Fighters- suddenly they are no longer War Orphans who led the way, but are acting in imitation to the 'original' heroes of Knothole, heroes who were unmentioned up until that point. Retroactively making new characters important in this way is one of those things that does a lot to sour people to characters, especially the way it can heavily re-contextualize a pillar of the series like this.

I do maintain however that while calling them the Original Freedom Fighters and making them as important as they were was a bad call, the notion of adults trying to fight Robotnik before Sonic and co came on the scene makes a great deal of sense. And in this case, Tig Stripe's crew all implicitly being former Royal Army personnel takes on an interesting light when you remember Armand's failed attempt to retake Mobotropolis. You have Tig Stripe here, a veteran of the Great War who is aware that the last remnant of the army he served failed to retake the capitol from Robotnik, and is now confronted with the fact it falls to him and the others to try and keep Knothole safe… and try to take the fight to Robotnik somehow.

The sole story they show up in states that it was Tig who first started the whole Guerilla warfare thing against Robotnik, and now we know why- having witnessed the conventional tactics of the royal army fail, Tig is forced to come up with new ways to fight, and in doing so manages to lay bare the weaknesses of Robotnik's army in fighting UN-conventional warfare. While Trey Scale's treachery does in the group, none the less it does demonstrate to Sally and Sonic and co that Robotnik CAN be fought, and how, and thus Sally goes forth to use Tig's tactics and refine them to the point where HER Freedom Fighters are even more successful against Robotnik.

There's more that could be said, but this has gone on long enough. I just find it neat how there's this weird consistent narrative resonance that sprang up, and in a way shows the evolution of this world and these characters… and it was almost entirely by accident rather than being through an act of narrative collaboration.

And I find that neat.

#Sonic the Hedgehog #Archie #Dr. Robotnik #Dr. Eggman #Maximillian Acorn #Tig Stripe #Armand D'Coolette

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chashmenaaz · 9 months

Text

Be-naam fareha- Jaun Elia

UNNAMED FAREHA

Saari baatein bhool jana fareha Tha wo sab kuch ek fasana fareha

forget all the matters Fareha

it was all just a story Fareha

Haan mohabbat ek dhoka hi to thi Ab kabhi dhoka na khana fareha

yes, love was nothing but a deception

now never be deceived Fareha

Chhed de gar koi mera tazkera Sun ke tanzan muskurana fareha

if someone were to mention me

hear and smile sarcastically Fareha

Meri jo nazmein tumhare naam hain Ab unhein mat gungunana fareha

my poems that are named after you

now do not hum them Fareha

Tha faqat roohon ke naalon ki shikast Wo tarannum, wo taraana fareha

there was only the defeat of the drains of souls

that way of singing, that melody, Fareha

Bahes kya karna bhala halaat se Haarna hai, haar jana fareha

what to argue with the circumstances

have to get defeated, get defeated Fareha

Saaz-o-barg-e-aish ko meri tarah Tum nazar se mat giraana fareha

Do not let the luxurious belongings as i did

fall from your sight Fareha

Hai shaoor-e-gham ki ek qeemat magar Tum ye qeemat mat chukana fareha

there is a price to the awareness of sorrow but

do not pay this price Fareha

Zindagi hai fitratan kuchh bad-mizaaj Zindagi ke naaz uthaana fareha

Life is inherently somewhat unpredictable

bear with the whims of life Fareha

Peshkash mein phool kar lena qubool Ab sitaare mat mangana fareha

accept the offering of flowers

now don't ask for stars, Fareha

Chand weerane tasawwur mein rahein Jab nayi duniya basana fareha

when the deserted wilderness is in imagination

start a new life, Fareha

Jaanib-e-ishrat gah-e-shehar-e-bahaar Ho sake to milke jaana fareha

Towards the abode of joy, the city of spring

If possible, meet and go, Fareha

Sochta hun kis qadar tareek hai Ab mera baqi zamana fareha

I wonder how dark it is

Now, the rest of my time, Fareha

Sunn raha hun manzil-e-ghurbat se door Baj raha hai shadiyana fareha

I am hearing, being far from the destination of solitude

The wedding music is playing, Fareha

Mauj-zan pata hun main ek sail-e-rang Az-qafas-taa-aashiyana fareha

I know how to create waves, like a painter of colors

from the cage to the nest, Fareha

Ho mubarak rasm-e-taqreeb-e-shabaab Bar-murad-e-khusrawana fareha

Congratulations on the ceremony of youthful beauty

May your desires be fulfilled, Fareha

Saj ke wo kaisa laga hoga jo tha Ek khwaab-e-shayerana fareha

how would he have looked adorned, who was

a poetic dream Fareha

Sochta hun main, ke mujh ko chahiye Ye khushi dil se manana fareha

I think that i need to

wholeheartedly embrace this happiness Fareha

Kya hua gar zindagi ki raah mein Hum nahin shana-ba-shana fareha

What happens if on the path of life

we are not side by side Fareha

Waqt shayad aap apna jabr hai Us pe kya tohmat lagana fareha

Perhaps time in itself is tyranny

why accuse it, Fareha

Zindagi ek naqsh-e-be-naqqaash hai Us pe kya ungli uthana fareha

Life is an uncarved design

Why raise a finger at it, Fareha

Kash ek qanun hota jo nahin Zakhm apne kya dikhana fareha

I wish there was a law that didn't exist

Why show your wounds, Fareha

Kash kuch iqdaar hote jo nahin Phir bhala dil kya jalana fareha

I wish there were some choices that don't exist

why burn your heart, Fareha

Sirf ek jalti hui zulmat hai noor Taab-o-tabish par na jana fareha

light is only a burning darkness

dont be fooled by it's heat and fervor Fareha

Ye jo sab kuch hai ye shayad kuch nahin Rog jee ko kya lagana fareha

This everything that exists this might be nothing

why make the heart ill Fareha

Sail hai, bas be-karaan lamhon ka sail Gharq-e-sail-e-be-karaana fareha

It's a journey, just a collection of aimless moments

Drowning in the sea of purposeless journey, Fareha

#Syed Hussain Sibt-e-Asghar Naqvi #ghazal #translated #translation #english #persian #urdu #jaun eliya

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hypnogogyc · 10 months

Note

Since you are THE Oliver banks artist (to me atleast) thoughts on the fact Oliver and Jane Prentis worked at the same crystal/tarrot shop? I don’t think they knew eachother all that wel or anything but god there’s something so intresting about having these avatars all be so closely connected

(Love your Oliver design btw:) )

Oh that is the highest honor i hold to my chest id like to thank lilnan for the trustfall comic that broke my brain and started me on this path.

AND THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK!!!

First of all as characters alone they went very different paths towards their entities and that makes sense considering the Corruption requires a life to infest, where the End is. You know. I stand by my “all avatars succumbed to their entity by fleeing from another”(like Elias to the eye fearing the end) i think Oliver ran from the end and found comfort in the end but in a new light. Jane I think always did have the fear of corruption with her blackhead paranoia and bullying but i feel she really feared the lonely. Her self mutilation in mortality is her way of doing something about the rejection she experienced, even if it didn’t really help anything. She first fears corruption because all her life she was demeaned for filth, and grew up thinking she was rotting inside everyday. Her choice to then change from picking at her skin in self disgust to loving her pock marks because they held home to something that needed her as much as she needed it is hard to not understand at least a little why she’s so elated.

Also the timeline matches up for working the same time.. (oliver is spotted there 2013, jane isnt discovered by cops til march 2014. Ik janes statement only says he came in while she worked n stared at her but. Shhhh) i think they got on rather well. They were both people desperately trying to find relief and hoping something would just finally click in place and they would belong. Jane was rejected from what she centered her life around (just having any connection. Any acceptance, both in herself and everyone else.) and so was Oliver (from life itself. The society he was born into, the events of his life. It was just all too much at once and the lack of childhood info on him from his mortal statement and only the statement towards jon later i think feeds into the idea of him not really even wanting to live on in memory.)

Oliver looks up to Jane for her wisdom when he meets her as a man with some bad dreams here and there and she’s a woman with some pretty terribly dealt with anxiety, which he could relate to. I think he’d talk to her about meditation, trying to find presence in your own body, but she had a very bad reaction to that. He apologizes and she accepts his treat for her lunch break when he comes back into work with an extra sandwich and soup. He sees her unsteadiness in much in life but she’s different with the crystals and cards. She speaks fondly of every gemstone’s meanings and properties, makes a secret drawer for all the gems shaped in such a way she couldn’t handle not being able to buy it herself. She teaches him Tarot, he picks it up quick. He tells her that he thinks the gems suit her. Jane smiles a bit stiffly and says thanks. He clarifies he meant it suiting her as a person, as she was very attuned. She smiles wide and says thanks again, this one natural.

Jane disliked Oliver at first. Self loathing without relief often turns outwards, and he was polite and well spoken and handsome and even had the nerve to be friendly with her. Incessantly. Shes slow to trust. She has to be. She’s played this song and dance and it has to be pity or obligation. She likes her job because for her role she is no longer Jane Prentiss. She’s a store clerk with a nearly encyclopedic knowledge of it’s wares. Oliver offers guided meditation, she has a hard time saying no. It ends badly. He’s apologetic and Jane just doesn’t understand it. The next day he buys her lunch as a apology. Material loss from him (and she knew exactly what his paycheck was and it was NOT lofty. It was only lunch but. Still.) and then the loneliness can’t bear it anymore. She keeps herself from delusions that someone like him would take such genuine interest in her that wasn’t just someone who was overly friendly and didn’t want tension with a coworker. But then they bond slowly. Jane teaches him to read tarot on a slow day. Its just a basic reading but he drinks in her words intently. It strikes her suddenly that this man not only tolerated her as a coworker. He respected her. He really truly felt what she was saying was valuable information. She’s giddy and teaches him more advanced spreads. Oliver has to eventually ask for a break and she apologizes for not realizing and getting carried away and he laughs and says no that was amazing. I’m so glad i could see so much of what you can. She’s thrilled, they go drinking at nights (Oliver is the sober driver).

But then Oliver becomes more despondent. He talks less about his nightmares to her but obviously still has them. She can’t help the paranoia come back. She never did receive closure for being abandoned time and time again. She didn’t expect it now. This final straw is when she catches him staring. THAT was a look she knew. Pity. She picks at her skin worse and worse. Oliver takes over when Jane doesn’t show up for a few days, and he’s walked past her house enough to see the roots and understand what’s happened.

#tma #tma hc #THANK UUUUU #jane prentiss #oliver banks #interrogation

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