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djarins-cyare · 15 hours

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Never Look Down

Part 1: Din’s Evening

Series Masterlist

Prompt: “I don’t know what’s happening but I love it.”

Summary: Din has been ignoring his crush on Grogu’s babysitter for a while now, with varying degrees of success. But after a misunderstanding leads to some revelations, there’s no denying things any longer. Sometimes you just need to look at things from a different perspective.

Rating: Mature (18+) with a smidge of explicit

Pairing: Din Djarin x Original Female Character (for his POV scenes) / Din Djarin x Reader (for her POV scenes)

Word count: 5,330

Tags/warnings: alcohol, drunkenness, vomit (no description), numerous references to erections, some swearing, references to sex, non-explicit smutty thots, Din carries OFC a short distance, masturbation (male, semi-explicit, but I don’t think enough to push up the rating), 3rd person POV (part 2 will be 2nd person POV and OFC will become reader/you).

Author’s note: This was originally supposed to be for @beskarandblasters’ Din Djarin Fic Club Drabble Event, although drabble this is not! Kel said there was no word limit, but it grew so long that I couldn’t even call it a one-shot anymore, so I’m uploading it in two parts to make it easier to read and I think that probably disqualifies it from the Drabble Event. But Kel, thank you so much anyway for the prompt – it resulted in me finally pushing through my writer’s block and finishing/uploading something new, so I’m eternally grateful!

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:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

He’s panicking. It’s stupid, really – he’s been in situations far trickier and more critical than this. But Karga said he needed help urgently, and now his babysitter isn’t answering her comlink.

Should he just go and leave Grogu here? It’s not like he never left him alone on the ship.

Except… something’s changed since the adoption. Din has started to care what others think of his parenting style. He hears people whisper that fatherhood clearly isn’t coming easily to him (he thought he was doing alright). He watches how his babysitter closely monitors every move the kid makes (the Mandalorians never watched him that closely). He listens when people talk about how they raise their own children (he hadn’t realised it was such hard work). And it’s made him feel as if he’s… lacking.

He hates feeling less than adequate in any area of his life, but somehow, failing as a father cuts deep. Perhaps it’s because he grew up without one. Plus, that scolding Peli gave him after she found Grogu alone on the Razor Crest still haunts him.

Although the Mandalorian method of letting them learn from their mistakes has merit (and it never did him any harm), he wants to be there for his son. So, no. He won’t leave Grogu here alone. He can’t risk him waking up and wondering why nobody comes if he calls. The kid has probably had enough of that in his past.

Why isn’t Maia picking up?

Din paces the cabin’s length, listening to the gentle ping of the comlink as it tries to connect with the one he gave her. Even the soothing pulse doesn’t ease his frustration. Diligent parenting is hard.

Just as he’s wondering if he can wake the kid and bring him along, the comlink crackles to life.

“—know what the stinking stang is wrong with it! Ah, frotz! Hello? Is this thing totally borked?”

For a baffling moment, he can’t work out whether he’s shocked or thrilled. She certainly doesn’t use that type of language around the kid, but he’s delighted to hear her voice nonetheless.

“Maia!” He interrupts her frustrated confusion as loud as he dares, lest he wake the sleeping child downstairs.

“Shiny, hi! It works! What’s up, my metal man? It’s late… is this a booty call?”

Once again, Din can’t decide if he’s shocked or thrilled. However, his dick’s instant twitch of interest proves that it, at least, is clearly siding with the latter. Dank farrik, he wishes it were a booty call. “No, Maia, I need—”

“Course it’s not!” she interrupts, giggling inanely. “Sorry, that was ridiculous, ignore me. Go on, you were saying?”

He takes a deep breath and tries to push past the stab of dismay at her labelling the idea of a booty call as ridiculous. At least she sounds in a happy mood.

“I’m sorry to contact you so late, but Karga has some kind of crisis. IG-11 is still with the Anzellans for repairs after the last crisis, so he’s asked for my help. Grogu’s asleep, but I’m gonna need you to come over and wait at the cabin until I return. I’ll pay you double your usual rate. I just don’t wanna leave him here alone.”

“Suuure! I’ll haul my jets over to you now. Five, ten minutes, tops. If you wanna take off now, I know your door code. I’ll check on the li’l bug as soon as I arrive.”

Din breathes a relieved sigh. “Thank you, I owe you. I shouldn’t be long.”

“Happy hunting, Beskar Boy! Or happy dispute settling!” Maia signs off with a melodic laugh that instantly makes him grin beneath his helmet, despite the stupid nickname.

The grin fades as he processes the meaning of the words preceding her addictive laughter, and he sighs. She’s probably right, although he hopes he’ll at least need his blaster for whatever mess the High Magistrate wants him to clean up.

Karga was once able to intimidate the townsfolk, but these days, they see him as purely a leader and captain of industry. They respect his ability to govern and improve the town – he’s more than proven himself capable in those roles. But whipping out a blaster from beneath those ridiculous robes now gains him little more than dubious raised eyebrows. By contrast, Cara was a fearsome and capable law enforcer, and now IG-11 keeps the citizens in line.

Except a reptavian tore off both of IG’s legs a few nights ago. Apparently, whatever the droid equivalent of ‘sick leave’ is, he’s taking it.

Din doesn’t mind helping out when he’s not on jobs for Carson. As long as Karga doesn’t solicit his help too often, it’s an easy way to make a few extra credits. He supposes that kind of makes him a part-time deputy, though he’ll never accept a title or a contract. But if tonight’s job is nothing more than a neighbour dispute, he’ll be a little peeved. His friend is aware of his skillset and wouldn’t contact him unless it required weapons and armour. He hopes.

He checks on Grogu once more, then equips himself with his usual arsenal, making sure to lock the weapons cabinet behind him. For some reason, his blasters fascinate Maia. He’s given her several shooting lessons, and she always asks to hold them whenever the cabinet’s unlocked. Although he doubts she’d handle them without his permission, he’d rather be present if she’s caressing his things.

Truthfully, he’d prefer it if she handled and caressed something else entirely, though he buries that thought for now. He has work to do, and an ill-timed hard-on would be awkward at best, if not downright perverse. He can torture himself later.

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

Din wraps up the problem in less than an hour. It does require his blaster, in fact, and he does have to shoot someone. Okay, it’s in the shoulder to disarm him, but the guy is only on his drunken vendetta because he’s heartbroken. He doesn’t deserve to die.

A year ago, he would’ve just shot him in the head and gone home. But he’s lived among the citizens of Nevarro for several months now, and he’s almost starting to feel like part of the community. Passing through it to visit the old covert was different. The Mandalorians were a separate (secret) colony, and he was merely a visitor who lived on his ship. Even though his new home is still on the outskirts, Grogu attends the school in town, and he already knows many of the other parents by name. These days, the market stall owners try to chat with him instead of looking away in fear as they used to.

The guy standing on a table in the cantina tonight with a blaster trained on his ex and her new flame is someone Din recognises. He can’t recall from where, but disarming rather than killing him feels like the right thing to do.

Once he has him in binders, he delivers him to Karga and hurries straight home. The lava flats are quiet and peaceful this time of night, free from the nocturnal bustle of the town and lit only by the celestial display above. There’s no sulphur fog tonight, and the air smells fresh.

But as pleasant as it is, he doesn’t dawdle. Just like every other time he’s left Maia in charge, he relishes the chance to walk into his home and see her there. As if she belongs. He finds that image far more dazzling than the constellations sparkling above him. It’s far sweeter than the fresh air he inhales through his helmet filters as he hastens toward his cabin.

He can’t pinpoint when his interest in her changed from professional to passionate. Grogu made it clear that he liked her best out of the several childminders they auditioned, so he gave her the job. At some point between then and now, he became enamoured with her.

But he can’t do anything about it.

His loyalty to his son means he can’t fuck the babysitter, so for now, Maia belongs to the kid, and Din sleeps alone.

Even though he’s had no serious relationships in the past, he imagines he’d be willing to try it with her. But since it’ll never happen, it’s not worth dwelling on. He’s noticed a few locals checking him out, so he can always approach them if he’s looking to get laid. He’s much more used to casual encounters.

But none of that stops Din from thinking his babysitter is beautiful. It doesn’t stop him from wishing he could run his hands over her welcoming body, indulge in her tender touch and heady scent, sink into her depths over and over until she’s crying out his name as they shatter together in ecstasy….

Dank farrik, he’d better quit thinking like that. He has enough trouble controlling his physical urges around her as it is. In fact, it’s starting to become a problem. He’s lost count of how many times he’s had to dash off and furtively rearrange himself so his stomach padding hides his boner. He can’t wear the flight suits with the tight pants around her anymore, so the looser-fitting ones are getting much more use. In fact, he’s wearing his last pair. (That reminds him: he needs to do laundry tomorrow.)

Maia teases him whenever she can, but it’s always friendly, not flirty, and it doesn’t come close to being sexual. He’s never caught her looking anywhere other than directly at his visor. Still, he can’t help feeling embarrassed whenever something she says or does causes his cock to harden. He simply can’t control it.

Din reaches the cabin and punches in the door code, happy to note that his guest has locked it from inside. Her diligence and attention to detail certainly helped him trust her in his home from the outset of her employment.

Stepping across the threshold, he notices all the lights are out except for the one above the kitchen sink, which is unusual. Stranger still, all it illuminates is a near-full cup of water standing in a pool of condensation.

Nonetheless, it’s bright enough for him to survey the rest of the room cast in shadowed shades of grey.

He can’t see Maia.

Instantly, his heart rate rises, although he doesn’t panic. She’s probably just in the refresher or the kid’s bedroom with him. But the amount of moisture surrounding that cup shows it’s been sitting there almost as long as he was gone, which is curious. And there’s no light coming from downstairs either.

The cabin is small, with an open-plan kitchen and living space, and a staircase leading down to two bedrooms and the refresher. Din’s priority is his son, so he creeps down the ferrocrete steps, well-practised at following the route silently. With his night vision on, he can see that Grogu’s door is open a crack, and he pushes it wider. Little purring snores verify that the kid is sleeping soundly, and he slides the door fully closed to ensure he stays that way. Good.

Since his babysitter wasn’t in that room, and she wouldn’t invade his private space without permission, there’s only one other option. He bypasses his own bedroom opposite Grogu’s and heads to the door facing him – the refresher. He can’t pick up any sounds from within, but he’s not about to invade her privacy by listening too intently. The door is fully shut, but there’s a faint glow through the ventilation grill at the bottom, too weak to be the usual lights. A glowrod?

That’s rather odd. He’s grateful that Maia avoided putting on the hall lights while Grogu’s door was ajar, but she could’ve switched on the refresher lights once inside.

For an unsettling moment, Din isn’t sure how to proceed. He really doesn’t want to interrupt her if she’s busy. But… his instincts are telling him something is off, and he wants to know she’s okay.

He’ll give her a little longer. He’d rather be cautious than a perv.

He retreats upstairs again, conducting a thorough check of the living space and kitchen but finding nothing abnormal or suspicious. Nothing besides that abandoned cup of water, at least. Next comes his nightly check of the cabin’s weak points – the windows and entryway. He secures them all, figuring he can escort Maia out when she’s ready. Tipping away the water, he runs a fresh cup, turns his back to the stairs to lift his helmet and drink, and refills it. Finally, he disarms himself of most of his weapons, leaving one blaster in its holster and his vibroblade in his boot. He likes to bring some of his usual arsenal downstairs with him, even though he has multiple spares in a secure cabinet near his bed.

Which is where he’s headed now. Din sets the drink on his nightstand, switches off his night vision, and switches on the dim bedside light. His guest has seen him armourless a few times before, so he begins removing his beskar and the rest of his kit. He’s almost finished – just his armourweave stomach padding to go – when he hears a thump from the refresher.

In seconds, he’s outside it again, listening intently for any further clues. He’s been in the business of handling unconscious bodies for decades, and that sounded like an unconscious body.

“Maia?” he tries, keeping his voice low to ensure he won’t disturb the kid.

Nothing.

He knocks gently, giving it a few moments.

Still nothing.

Okay, now he’s really starting to worry. He returns to his bedroom, grabs his vambrace, and flicks through his visual settings until he’s replaced his night vision with the thermal overlay. He hopes he isn’t crossing a line here, but what else can he do? Walking to his doorway, he takes a deep breath… and directs his visor at the refresher.

Dank farrik, she’s on the fucking floor. Why didn’t he check sooner?

Jabbing off the thermal overlay, Din throws his vambrace on the bed, then rushes to the refresher door. He keeps his voice low in case he wakes Grogu, hoping it reaches her anyway. “Maia, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I hope you’re decent because I’m coming in.”

He gives her five torturous seconds to respond or get decent if she isn’t already, and then he keys in the override code. The door slides open, revealing his unconscious (but blessedly fully clothed) babysitter slumped near the toilet, lit by a glowrod on the floor next to her. He can now hear her breathing heavily, though it doesn’t sound laboured, just a deep state of sleep.

His helmet isn’t sealed, so straight away, he’s able to detect the lingering smell of vomit. A somewhat grim consequence of being both a bounty hunter and a father means Din can also distinguish types of vomit. Although she has flushed, there’s no air filtration with the lights off, and the residual odour tells him that Maia has been drinking alcohol.

It also explains her unconscious state, so his worry dissipates a little, and mild annoyance starts to creep in.

She agreed to look after his son when she’d been drinking?

He kneels down next to her, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Maia. Wake up.” He shakes her, but she doesn’t stir.

He assumes she slipped from a propped-up position against the toilet, and the thud he heard was her slumping onto the ferrocrete floor. Did she bang her head? If that didn’t wake her… shit.

He tries shaking her again with as much force as he dares, and she groans and curls up even more. She’s fighting it, but he sees consciousness sluggishly returning.

“Maia, it’s Din. Can you sit up?”

“… y’can’t make me sing for the cup….” She’s still half asleep and confused, but that’s not surprising. A few seconds later, she cracks open her eyes, becomes aware of her situation, and slams them shut again. “Oh… fuuuck… no no, m’sorry… so so so s-sorry… please don’t be mad at meee….” She’s tearful and rambling but mostly coherent, even though she’s still curled on the floor with her eyes squeezed closed.

“What happened?” He can’t think of anything else to say until he’s established her culpability. He knows she wouldn’t drink on the job, so she must’ve been drinking earlier this evening. It certainly explains her overzealous response on the comlink. Dank farrik, he should’ve realised. But, no, he was busy revelling in his own drunken high from her joke about it being a booty call. Idiot.

“It was accidet— ac-ci-den-tal,” she continues from her foetal position. “Tried to call you back, but m’comlink’s busted… figured better I’m here drunk than not at all… ’m sorry sorry sorry, kark, pleeease don’t hate me. I jus’ wanted to make sure the li’l man was okay. I didn’t realise how much I’d had till I stood up, n’ it hit me worse on the way over. But Grogu’s fine, I checked. But I’ve grossed up your ’fresher, ’m sorry…”

Din sighs. In the scheme of things, Maia did the right thing. He’d rather she was here puking in his refresher than risk his child waking up alone. And it occurs to him that she achieved a surprising amount while seemingly drunk as a pirate. She secured the cabin, poured herself some water, stomached a few sips, managed to descend the stairs unscathed, and checked on the kid. Then she sealed herself inside the refresher and threw up neatly into the toilet bowl with no spills, even managing to flush before she passed out. And she did all that by the light of a glowrod so she wouldn’t wake Grogu.

In many ways, his babysitter’s actions tonight were more responsible than some of his own questionable choices regarding his son’s safety. He can’t be mad at her.

He tells her so. “I’m not mad, Maia. Thank you for coming over anyway. Can you sit up? I need to know you’re okay.”

Her eyes are still clamped shut, but she cracks them slightly as she tries to push herself off the floor. It doesn’t go well, so Din reaches forward to help, and together, they get her into a stable sitting position. Nevarro’s volcanic environment means the basement maintains a cosy warmth, so he’s not surprised she passed out down here. It’s not exactly soft, but those who grow up in the Outer Rim spend their lives making do. He likes that she’s a survivor. Like him.

“Everything’s s-spinning,” she groans. “N’ my mouth tastes like bantha balls.”

Din suppresses a snort. “Hold on.” He climbs to his feet, retrieves the cup of water from his bedroom, and then passes it to her. “Here, sip.”

After she’s taken a few delicate sips, Maia gives him back the cup. “Don’t wanna puke again.”

“You won’t,” he assures, placing it in her hands again. “Pretty sure you got all the alcohol out of your system already. You gotta rehydrate, or you’ll feel worse.”

Kneeling down next to her again, he watches her try to follow his instruction, pleased she trusts him. He can’t help but admire how adorably dishevelled she is. Her hair is mussed, her clothes are wrinkled, and she keeps pouting between sips… but it’s all so… cute.

Once she’s had half the cup, he accepts it back, though she follows it up with more apologies. “M’so sorry… , m’such a karkin’ idiot… I get it if you don’t want me to look after Grogu anym—”

“Stop,” Din interrupts sharply, unwilling to let her beat herself up. “This is as much on me as it is on you. I didn’t ask you if you were busy. I demanded you come over and bribed you with extra credits. I didn’t question why you sounded different on the comlink. And I didn’t wait for you to arrive. If I’d done any of those things differently, you might not have ended up on my ’fresher floor. So I’m sorry too.” Maia doesn’t reply besides blinking at him a few times, so he asks, “What was the occasion? For the drinking, I mean.”

“One year of freedom from a terrible relationship,” she states resolutely, and for a moment, she seems a little more sober. “Me n’ Zandi, we were both in deep with some mudscuffers who locked us in when we were too young to know any better. But we got lucky. Marshal Dune caught them dealing spice, and now they’re spending a decade mining the asteroid field at the edge of the system. The Nevarran tribunal sentenced them a year ago today, so we drank to celebrate our freedom.”

Din doesn’t really know how to respond. She’s made some previous passing remarks about the toxic relationships she and her friend escaped from, which he’s always taken as hints of her wish to remain unattached. It’s yet another reason he wouldn’t feel right about making any sort of move on her. He settles on, “You… deserve to celebrate.”

“Thanks, Shiny.” He bristles at the nickname out of habit, but he secretly likes that Maia has numerous nicknames for him. “N’ you deserve a ’fresher without a woman on the floor. I should get outta your way, Beskar Boy.”

She tries pushing herself up but instantly becomes dizzy and topples to the side. Din’s naturally quick reflexes kick in, and he positions himself to catch her, letting her fall into his chest as his arm snakes around her back. Before he can even process what he’s doing, he’s slipping his other arm beneath her knees and lifting her up.

“Whoa!” she exclaims, grabbing onto his flight suit with one hand while the other flies to grasp his neck. He almost shivers from feeling her clutch at him so keenly. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I love it! Thanks for the lift, muscles!”

He’s glad his bold move has amused rather than perturbed her, so he doesn’t answer, too busy willing his cock to remain unreactive to this sudden closeness. His main goal is to get her off the ferrocrete floor and put her down somewhere softer as fast as possible. As he elbows open the door and navigates out of the refresher, he makes a split-second decision. His bed is closer than the couch.

“Shiny! This is your bedroom!” Maia whisper-shouts as he steps through the door. At least she’s lucid enough to keep her voice low in case Grogu hears across the hall.

Din grunts in agreement as he approaches his bed and starts carefully lowering her onto it.

She keeps going in a gleeful whisper. “Is this…? Are we…? Kriff, I never thought I’d actually end up in your bed, metal man! I mean, it’s been a dream, sure, but I figured your creed thing meant, like, no sex or whatever. But holy frotz, I guess tonight really was a booty call! Count me the fuck in!”

He’s already laid her down by the time he fully processes her words.

Dank farrik, he’s a fucking idiot.

He will never have sex with any woman in this state. He’s not that kind of guy. The fact that being with Maia is a dream for him too is meaningless, and so is the possibility that she might actually want him. Because does she really? Maybe this is still the alcohol talking. It has to be. Right?

It doesn’t even matter. All Din needs to do is extract himself from this situation in the least awkward way possible and without having to reject her verbally.

But how?

He points a finger at her. “Stay put.” She bites her bottom lip and acknowledges his order with a sloppy salute.

Damn it, the image of her lip caught between her teeth is now burned into his brain, haunting him with forbidden promise.

He pads back to the refresher in his socks and closes the door, relieving himself, flushing, and then pouring some cleaner down the toilet to sit overnight. He then washes up at the sink as fast as possible and refills the cup of water. Returning to his bedroom, Din places the cup on the nightstand along with the glowrod that belongs to his guest.

Speaking of whom…

In his brief absence, Maia has toed off her shoes, stripped naked and strewn her clothes across the floor, and burrowed under his covers. She’s still bleary from the booze, but he sees fire and lust behind her hopeful gaze as she blinks up at him.

It kills him.

He remembers he never finished removing his armour, so he retrieves the vambrace from where he threw it and places it on its shelf. Then he finally removes his stomach padding and puts that away too, directing his visor anywhere except at the naked woman in his bed. He’s doing everything possible to deny the physical reaction her presence is giving rise to.

When he’s done, Din approaches the bed again, acutely aware that she’s tracking him with a hunger he shares but can do nothing about.

Fuck, this is torture. The blanket has slipped down (or maybe Maia has arranged it) so low that it’s daringly close to exposing her nipples. She’s right there, waiting for him. Wanting him.

But she’s drunk. And she’s his kid’s babysitter. He tries to quell his ache by thinking about how she’s thrown up this evening, which would make kissing gross. It helps for a second, although the idea of kissing her at all ends up eclipsing the negatives, and he hardens even more.

Shit, he cannot think about kissing her. Or how naked she is. Or anything like that. Vomit. He should focus on vomit.

Okay. Din taps off the bedside light and picks up the glowrod, then heads to the door in the dark, stumbling over her clothes strewn on the floor. He can’t activate his helmet’s night vision without his vambrace control, but he won’t put it back on just to navigate his escape. Nor will he switch on the glowrod yet because he doesn’t want to see any dismay or regret in her eyes as he leaves her. He wants to remember the hunger he witnessed there.

Hazardous garments notwithstanding, he finds his way to the exit.

Crossing the darkened doorway’s threshold, he whispers, “Get some rest, Maia.” Then he fumbles for the control and taps the door close button, releasing a sigh as it swishes shut behind him.

Switching on the dim glowrod, he traipses upstairs. It’s going to be so kriffing awkward in the morning. Nonetheless, one thought keeps repeating itself to him above all others, one he can no longer prevent his dick from swelling at the prospect of.

Is she really attracted to him?

He has to know.

Din extracts another blaster from his cabinet, knowing he won’t sleep without one beside him. Then he sits heavily on the couch, thinking about how often he used to sleep in his helmet before this cabin became his home. It’s the first place he’s felt secure enough to remove it at night, so he’s no stranger to sleeping beneath his beskar mask. It’s almost a comfort in a way.

With his face covered in a darkened room lit by nothing but a glowrod while those he cares for slumber downstairs, more memories return…

Sitting in the Crest’s darkened cockpit, fucking his fist by the swirling glow of hyperspace, chasing a release during those first stressful days as a fugitive. In theory, if something had pulled him out of hyperspace, someone could’ve quite literally caught him with his dick in his hand. But the odds of anyone being close enough to peer in through the transparisteel at that very moment and notice his furtive actions were slim. Back then, he was so untethered that in his weaker moments, he desperately sought anything that made him feel good. Fleeting moments when he could pretend his life wasn’t falling apart yet again. The risk was worth it.

Here, too, although he’s locked up the cabin and closed the shutters, there’s a risk of Maia sneaking up the stairs and finding him. But a similar desperation fills him now – the utter frustration of loss. Back then, it was the loss of a stable income, the loss of his covert. Now, it’s his missed chance – the loss of what could’ve been with the woman downstairs. And maybe even the total loss of her in his life. Perhaps she’ll be too embarrassed about this evening’s events and quit. Din couldn’t take that, nor could Grogu. It’s why he tried to avoid this.

Can they get past this? Maybe he ought to find someone else to care for the kid. Would that be best? This is getting too complicated. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore.

So, right now, he’ll imagine the positive and lose himself in the fantasy, just like he used to. He’ll think about the hunger he saw in her eyes and let himself believe it wasn’t merely the alcohol. Just for tonight, he’ll believe it’s the truth. The risk, once again, is worth it.

He’s already tenting his loose flight suit pants, so he fumbles to expose himself and relaxes against the couch cushions behind him. The wet spot on his underwear displays just how profoundly turned on he is simply by the idea of being with Maia.

After all the temptation it’s endured this evening, his cock is extra sensitive, so he begins with measured, lazy strokes. Whilst he’d love to revel in the fantasy, he knows he won’t last long. As he imagines joining her in his bed, filling his palms with those half-exposed breasts he saw, pressing his naked body against her, his movements begin to speed up and his pressure increases. Very soon, he’s plummeting toward the edge of ecstasy like a podracer pilot with the finish line in sight.

His helmet tips back to stare at the ceiling as he pictures how it would feel to sink into her warm depths, and the notion ignites his fuse, burning rapidly. It only takes a few more strokes before the powder keg within him explodes into a million tiny raptures. His hips stutter, his muscles clench, and his orgasm tears through his body. He comes hard, and a fractured groan far louder than he’d intended escapes through the modulator as he spills forth his pleasure…

Fucking. Bliss.

Din’s mind is blank for some time, just a sense of fulfilment and contentment gently rippling throughout his relaxed form.

As the real world filters back in, he’s able to think clearly, and he now knows what he has to do. He doesn’t like it, but it’s the mature and sensible option. It’s also a fucking daunting prospect, but he’s faced worse. Has he? Yes, he has. He can do it.

He tucks himself away and finds a cloth to wipe down the mess on his flight suit. That task makes him realise he’ll have to sneak into his bedroom tomorrow without waking Maia to grab his armour and some fresh clothes. And now he really needs to do laundry tomorrow. The only pants he has left are the tighter ones, which he tries to avoid wearing around her. Great, there’s another reason to dread the morning. Although it’s not as if he’s ever caught her checking out his package – she may tease him verbally, but her gaze is always polite.

For now, he’ll enjoy the security of darkness and the lingering swirl of happy chemicals in his brain.

Din lays down on the couch and switches off the glowrod. With a deep sigh, he surrenders to the relaxing state of comfort brought on by his orgasm, letting himself fall into a contented sleep. Before he drifts off, his last thought is of Maia’s beautiful lips… leaning in for a kiss….

If only.

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

[PART 2 COMING ON 1 JUNE 2024]

Those of you who've read my work before will be familiar with my copious end notes:

As usual, it’s British spellings I’m afraid. Demographic stats say about 60% of you are American, but I can’t help where I was born, so sorry about all the extra ‘u’s and ‘l’s and for using ‘s’ where you would expect ‘z’. However, I’ve channelled my inner linguist and used American language and speech patterns since the show is filmed in the US and Din’s accent is American. All other wording is internationally neutral, including Maia’s dialogue (since the next chapter is written from her POV and I’ll be switching to second person reader insert for that, e.g. you/your pronouns). I’m a little sad I didn’t get to include any Mando’a linguistics in this fic tbh. Maybe another time.

The cabin’s layout is inspired by the concept art by Christian Alzmann that appeared in the closing credits of s3e8, in which there appears to be a staircase leading down to a lower level. That makes sense to me, as Din would need total security to sleep without his armour on, and a windowless underground room seemed appropriate. I also like the parallel that on the Razor Crest he used to sleep on the lower level in a windowless room too.

I know Carl’s absence is going to be felt when we finally get the movie, so I wanted to write something where Karga is still around. If this had been a longer piece, I would’ve had him actually featuring in it instead of being in the background, but in any case, Karga lives forever in the universes I write.

The reference to Din wearing looser pants is, weirdly, Canon. One of the ways you can tell it’s Brendan Wayne in the suit is because he seems to prefer these weird baggy clown pants. Contrast to Pedro who likes them tight (Din Peña?), as does Lateef Crowder, and as did Barry Lowin in season 2. Since Brendan did the majority of season 3, we saw Din in the loose-fitting style a lot more, so I decided to write in a reason for that beyond actor preference.

Though we have no information on Nevarro’s judiciary system, they’re an independent world who have a marshal and a magistrate, so my guess is they’d adopt the New Republic’s system of having a tribunal. Generally, group decision-making is favoured during this era, in contrast to the single-judge system of the Imperial era, so it seems more likely that Karga would encourage citizens to serve on a tribunal rather than unilaterally passing judgments himself.

Apologies to @the-mandawhor1an for using the name of your longtime established OC – it was coincidental, I promise! I chose it after looking up the most common female names in the world, one of which is Maria, and I settled on the variant Maia because it sounded like a more Star Wars-y version (and for another reason which you’ll see in part 2). I only realised when you reblogged my WIP Wednesday snippet, and it was a bit late to change it by then. I guess it’s a common name in the SWU too! But I’m sorry and I hope you don’t feel like I’m muscling in on your domain. Your Maia is of course the original Maia 💖

I made the GIF myself. Sorry it’s a bit blurry, I’m not very good at making them yet. I tried to use Tumblr’s GIF-making function, but it wouldn’t let me crop out Grogu’s ears, so this was my alternative attempt. It’ll have to do.

Definitions: Comlinks are those little cylinder comms they all use. Glowrod is a catch-all term for anything portable that produces light. All the swears/insults (stinking stang, frotz, borked, kriff, kark) are from the Legends list of phrases and slang this time (it’s longer than Canon). Nevarran reptavians are the ones that Grogu saved Karga from in s1e7 and that the Mandalorians were roasting in s3e7. Ferrocrete is a compound building material (Canon and Legends) made from concrete and iron, used in roads, reinforced bunkers and building foundations. I figured Din would only be happy with something strong and defensible, so Karga had the cabin built with it. Transparisteel is used for windows and ship viewports, as well as helmet visors.

Part 2 is written and will be uploaded next weekend once proofing/editing is complete. What do we think? Is Din gonna be dumb and tell her she can’t babysit Grogu anymore? Deny himself what he wants for Maia’s own good?

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

Tags requested…

@aheadfullofsteverogers @alltheotps @axolotllover225 @burntheedges @copperhalfcent

@foomoosworld @jude77 @secretelephanttattoo @stagerightlauren @the-mandawhor1an

Those tagged below showed interest in my masterlist and WIP snippets (comments/reblogs), so I thought I’d sneak in some extra tags. Apologies if it’s too forward, if you’d prefer I didn’t tag you in part 2 just let me know…

@604to647 @cheekychaos28 @djarinmuse @gingerlurk

@joelalorian @kyberblade @readingupsidedown @sunflowersunlight7-blog

@thefrogdalorian @whataenginerd @wrathkitty

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alice-after-dark · 17 hours

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Vox as an Abuse Victim

So here is that massive Vox post I promised, a day late for...reasons. I swear I have been working on this post for days, even before that StaticMoth discourse influx in my inbox.

After making my post about Vox and Angel and reading @deeply-unserious-fellow's post about a similar topic, I thought it might be finally time to make this post. Most people who have seen my content know how I typically portray StaticMoth. I have mixed feelings about Valentino at the best of times and outright dislike him at the worst. But frankly this post isn't actually about him (well, mostly). It's about Vox and why I am really hoping that Viv keeps the angle of Vox being an abuse victim.

TW for domestic abuse, physical violence, implied sexual abuse, abusive relationships, gaslighting/victim-blaming, and other canon-typical triggers. Contain abusive StaticMoth.

Honestly? The primary reason I hope she keeps it is because it would make him an even more complex character and bring attention to a criminally underrepresented group: abuse victims who are also bad people.

As pointed out in the post I tagged above, the world has become obsessed with this idea of a "palatable" victim, the poor suffering cinnamon roll. An abuse victim is expected to look like a victim. You're supposed to instantly feel sorry for them and want to protect them...but that's not so easy when the victim is someone who also hurts people, is it? It's not so easy to pretend they didn't do bad things too...but they are still a victim. That does not change just because they are a bad person. And thus it becomes complicated and interesting. Because it's not so easy to root for the victim when they're also victimizing others, especially when those others are people we care about...like Angel Dust. At the bare minimum, Vox is doing nothing to stop Valentino from abusing Angel or any of his other employees. Having Vox be a victim of the same abuse that Angel Dust suffers (at the hands of the same abuser no less) and yet also being someone who enables Angel's abuse creates a very complicated situation.

In a most media, the discovery of a mean/bad person being abused is frequently portrayed in a "well, they were abused so you can't be mad at them anymore" kind of light. Like "see? They're just an asshole because they were being abused! Now that we know, they're suddenly a good person!" Except that's not how it works. Someone can be a bad person and also be a victim. And even if them being an asshole was the result of their abuse, those behaviors and the consequences of those behaviors don't just vanish. They still hurt people and frankly I would riot if it came out that Vox was being abused by Valentino and then everyone in the show just up and forgave him for being an asshole. Like...no? He would still need to make up for his own shit and actually work towards being a better person. I like this character because he's an unapologetic asshole. If making him a victim takes that away, then that would be such a missed opportunity.

In fact, one thing I find interesting is that I definitely believe that Vox would have no problem admitting to being a bad person, but would rather fight an exorcist alone than admit to being a victim. His ego won't allow for it. He would probably laugh in your face and call you delusional while literally having a broken screen. Because he can't admit it, even to himself. He would see it as a sign of weakness and that's not acceptable to him (side note that being a victim does not make you weak, that's just what Vox's toxic mindset tells him). While I am fairly certain that he would have moved on from most 1950s mindsets since he is all about the future and progress and moving forward, toxic masculinity is still very much a thing today and I can definitely see him embodying it in some aspects, like needing to appear strong and in control at all times (and Hell's power hierarchy definitely encourages this mindset, so...). Fuck, even now in fucking 2024, men still have a hard time being taken seriously as the victims of abuse. Unless of course you fit a certain mold.

Angel Dust is the perfect example of this. He is a palatable male victim. He's effeminate, he's funny, he's friendly, he's caring, and we actively see him miserable in his suffering. Despite being in Hell just like the rest of them and having been a former mafia member and clearly able to stand on his own two feet it combat, his victimhood is constantly on display and the audience wants to protect and save him. On the opposite end, Vox is shown in a position of power that is constantly reinforced. He's an Overlord, he's manipulative, he's cruel, he's greedy, and he enables abusive behavior from others. He is not a palatable victim, which is why it's perfect.

Now let's get into what I believe is the actual evidence that this dynamic could still be present.

Something I see people commonly say is that Vox being abused by Valentino doesn't make sense because why wouldn't Vox just fight back? He could just shock Valentino into next Tuesday? And to these people I kindly say fuck you. Because while physical strength can be a factor in abuse, it is very rarely the thing that keeps the victim from leaving. Abuse, even when physical, is heavily psychological. It's like telling a victim "well, why didn't you just leave?" It's not that easy. Abusers tend to target those with low self-esteem and it's made pretty clear that Vox is a very insecure person (I feel the need to point out that having an ego and having high self-esteem are not the same thing, in fact having a big ego is typically a side effect of very low self-esteem). It's entirely possible that Vox makes the conscious decision not to fight back because he's afraid of what will happen if he does. He's afraid Valentino will leave. We know Valentino is just as mentally and emotionally abusive to those around him as he is physically abusive and we have actively witnessed him playing into Vox's insecurities and mentally messing with him (specifically in the events leading up to "Stayed Gone").

So let's talk about the scene leading up to "Stayed Gone," because I also see Vox's behavior towards Valentino here used as justification for why it's not possible for Valentino to be abusing Vox. Full disclosure, I myself in the past have even thought that it demonstrated them being mutually abusive towards each other, but have since changed my opinion after reading more takes and doing further analysis. Having rewatched this scene many times now, I have some observations.

There's a small moment that always caught my attention when I watched this scene because I wasn't sure what it meant, but looking at it in the context of this post, I think I can see a possibility. When Vox goes to see Valentino, he approaches the doors and they are opened for him by Valentino's servants. Vox pauses in the doorway, glances at them, then continues on inside.

What was the point of this moment? It seems out of place. Surely Vox has gone to Valentino's room before? Surely this door opening thing isn't new? And looking at Vox's face here, he looks...concerned? Like...they might hear what goes on inside? And he maintains that expression even as he enters the room, like he doesn't like that those two are out there and might hear them.

It also makes the entire situation feel so routine. Like Valentino is upset and these girls just expect Vox to show up and take care of it. And the scenes prior to this also sets it up as a normal occurrence. Vox rearranges his entire schedule to deal with Valentino, like he absolutely expects this situation could take up the rest of his day. And Valentino clearly doesn't listen to Velvette in this regard as she had to call Vox to come deal with Valentino despite him wrecking her department. Her comment even further establishes this as normal when she tells Vox that Valentino is "up in his tower, waiting for a flat-faced prince to calm him down." And when Vox arrives? "FUCKING FINALLY!" All of this sets up a standard situation: when Valentino is upset, it is Vox's job to calm him down and make him feel better. Valentino is a full grown adult and yet he has made it someone else's problem to manage his emotions.

Then of course we have the classic moment of Valentino literally throwing his glass at Vox only seconds after Vox has arrived. And this has to have been a conscious decision, because right before that, he throws his first glass on the ground before demanding another. So if he wanted to just break something, he didn't need to throw it at Vox, but he did. And I definitely don't think he cared if Vox got out of the way or not. But how easily Vox moves aside tells us that he fully expected to have things thrown at him and was ready for it. Now, I do believe that Valentino would throw shit at literally anyone when he is mad, but the key here is that Vox, his supposed friend, on-and-off lover, and business partner, is not exempt from this behavior. He even breaks Vox's phone when he realizes Vox is not paying attention to him. He has no qualms breaking Vox's property just to soothe his rage (I would also like to point out that he fucking obliterated that thing; just how hard did he fucking throw it?!).

Something in this scene that did initially throw me as I was writing this is that Vox doesn't seem particularly afraid of Valentino. Not the way we see Angel is when Valentino gets angry. We also see him actively get angry with Valentino, get in his face, and manipulate him. In the past, I believed this behavior from Vox to have established their relationship as mutually abusive. However, after reading yet another post from @deeply-unserious-fellow, I realized that everything Vox does here is only in direct response to Valentino's tantrum.

So let's go through some things here. When Vox initially tries to tell Valentino he can't go to the hotel, Valentino straight up ignores him. Does not respond to Vox's words, completely carries on like he didn't even speak. From this point on, Vox takes an entirely different approach to the situation. He manipulates Valentino into thinking that not shooting up the hotel is his idea and even offers further appeasement in the form of shooting his own employees as a method to satisfy Valentino's temper. I admit to initially viewing this as Vox being abusive, but frankly, when your options are being manipulative or letting your business partner go shoot up a hotel that houses the literal Princess of Hell, yeah, I'd take the manipulation route. Because, as I pointed out above, Vox cannot actually control Valentino. He tries to give him an order and is completely ignored. And even when he does successfully manipulate him, he still has to appease him in some capacity.

Now, there's also something here that is often played for shits and giggles, but I'm taking it 100% seriously right now. Many people point out that Vox's screen gets brighter when he gets in Valentino's face. Valentino is a moth demon and after Vox does this, he seems to be dazed for a moment, enough for Vox to rapidly switch back into manipulator mode and does his thing. It seems to have snapped Valentino out of his rage and I literally can't help but think that Vox has learned this as a defense mechanism. Valentino can't see very well, so it's very likely Vox's hypnotism doesn't work on him, so Vox had to find other ways of manipulating him and calming him down when he's in one of his rages.

Something I also want to point out is that it is made very clear through a single solitary moment that Valentino is in no way afraid of Vox. When he tells Vox about Alastor, Vox screams in his face, manhandles him, and Valentino just...pushes him off and saunters away, grinning like the cat that caught the canary. He doesn't even look upset or concerned when Vox grabs him. He just...laughs it off...like he knows Vox won't actually hurt him. Because I genuinely think Vox won't. Later in the episode, we hear Valentino's voicemails to Angel Dust and how he's emotionally manipulating him, telling him he can't really get better. I wouldn't be surprised to find that he's given Vox a similar treatment, especially considering that it's obvious Valentino knew what kind of reaction he would get out of Vox by bringing up Alastor. And sure, he brushes it off with a kink joke, but in all seriousness, why did Valentino keep Alastor's return from Vox? We know Angel has been at the hotel for a little while and Alastor has been involved with it as of a week prior to the beginning of season 1, so why suddenly bring it up? It's almost like he was specifically holding onto this information, waiting for the perfect time to use it that would be the most beneficial to him.

There's also another little scene that always caught my attention. It's when Valentino is getting pissed about the shadow construct that Angel Dust is flirting with.

Valentino starts getting pissy again, demands Vox's attention, gets annoyed when he doesn't get it, then immediately switches to mocking and confident when Vox starts bitching about Alastor. Like...he's so fucking proud of himself for getting Vox all worked up over Alastor. Like it's some kind of game for him. Riling Vox up and messing with his emotions is fun for Valentino. Alastor dredges up some real shit for Vox and Valentino exploits it. And from here on, he just keeps egging him on. Now, I'm pretty sure "Stayed Gone" would have happened with or without Valentino, but the point here is that he is definitely playing with Vox's emotions here.

As for the not being afraid aspect, again, Valentino hasn't actually threatened him with something that truly scares him. I don't think he's afraid of what Valentino could physically do to him. It's more likely to make him mad than anything else, even if he doesn't fight back (he'll probably go take out his anger on someone else). The thing about Vox is that we see that he does not like to appear weak in any capacity and I think this extends well into his own psyche. If he admits, even to himself, that he's a victim...to him, that's admitting weakness and he just can't do that. So Valentino's not abusing him, they just had a fight. He didn't hit back because he's in control of himself and he knows he could totally toast Valentino. It's Vox's own fault for pushing his buttons when he knew Valentino was mad. It wasn't rape cause he never said "no".

TLDR: Vox can be both an asshole and an abuse victim and it would be a really interesting aspect to his character as long as the show does it right and doesn't scrap his assholeness to make him a more palatable victim. Show him being a victim and also victimizing others. Show him not wanting to accept that he has been abused. LET PEOPLE BE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH FEELING SORRY FOR HIM.

(that's all for now, I have literally been working on this post for days and I'm exhausted)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox hazbin hotel #alice rambles #hazbin valentino #staticmoth #hazbin angel dust

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brainrot-of-a-thot · 23 hours

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fair warning: this is another, somewhat emotional, word vomit post.

please feel free to skip this if you aren’t interested in reading it; it’s okay, babes, I won’t be offended. I’m creating this post as a means of expressing my emotions and my feelings (and, blegh, how dare you babes make me feel those) and there was no way I couldn’t do it.

so, got kinda bored and decided to poke in on my analytics and —

um, what?

babes, this is within a week. my blog has been active for 8 days.

now, for a lot of writers (myself included) seeing these kind of numbers brings a sense of pride, giddiness, and recognition. and of course, those shiny little things are addictive fuel to us.

but these numbers also say something else to me — looking at these, all I can think is:

all together, five thousand people have taken the time to read a post from me; and that post made them feel something in such a way that they left a note on it.

now, maybe at face value, that doesn’t seem all that important. but from personal experience, I know that someone can read a post, like it, and never interact with it beyond that. they don’t leave any notes or comments — they just scroll on to the next.

and that’s perfectly okay! when writers publish things online, it’s for people to read — whether or not they leave recognition or love on it. I understand and accept this fact wholeheartedly.

but the fact that someone took the time and consideration to do so means so much to us as writers.

what it tells me is that my post — my little, more-likely-than-not self-indulgent fic positively impacted someone. even if for just a small snippet of time, my words were able to reach someone and offer them a sense of comfort. made them feel something, anything.

and that is the joy of writing, in my personal opinion.

having the ability to completely turn someone’s mood (maybe even day) around by doing something that you already enjoy, love and cherish doing? that’s fuckin’ sick.

to be able to offer comfort to someone who may be struggling, to be able to offer them a means of escape from the harshness of the world for a bit, all with the click of a button? even fuckin’ sicker.

babes, I enjoy writing more than any other hobby — but after interacting with all of you, I enjoy it even more. y’all have given me the warmest, cutest, most (awesomely) overwhelming reception that, honestly, it just blows my mind.

and all of your comments, all of your reblogs, all of your requests, suggestions, and general compliments make me feel like I’m on top of the world — and now, rather than writing with just joy, I write with joy and purpose.

not purpose in a sense that, “oh, I have all these followers and I have an obligation to deliver,” but purpose as in “I have all these amazing, unique, patient, beautiful individuals who genuinely love what I do, who find comfort in my literal hobby, who feel safe and included with me, and I want to keep offering them that” kind of purpose.

it’s such a beautiful thing.

I guess what I’m trying to say, without all ooey-gooey feelings involved, is that you babes have changed writing for me forever — and it’s for the better. you gave me a purpose, many friends, maybe even a fan base (I kinda hate saying that because it feels conceited) and I couldn’t be more grateful. none of this — my blog, my ability to reach others, my newfound enjoyment in writing, would have been possible without you babes. thank you, truly, from the very depths of my heart and soul.

stay beautiful, babes <3

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gatheredfates · 2 days

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Hi all, happy Friday! The Compendium update is happening a little earlier this week; mostly because I'm working on it in between Rabanastre queues (c'mere tomes) and because I can. 🦀 If there's a belated addition, I'll update at the end of this weekend as per normal.

However, as of today (05/24) the following resources have been added to Sea's Community Compendium for XIV Creatives.

LARGE SCALE

Nyanya.studio — Hosted by Nya Nya, this website/community services the gpose and modding community, offering posing, lighting, editing guides, and reshade presets for XIV.

(Thanks to @zylphiacrowley for the suggestion!)

MISC

WOL Prompt a Day — #WOLpromptAday is maintained by members of the “Waltz for the Moon” coalition. @ffxivwaltzforthemoon and offers a daily prompt you can answer for your character(s) in any creative format you like!

CHANGELOG

XIV Daily Question — has been removed due to inactivity.

Want to submit? You can either fill out the google form here, send me an ask with the relevant information contained on the Compendium, or join my Discord at SEAFLOOR (21+ only)!

Is my space suitable for the Compendium? Most of the time, yes! Below the read more is some more information/stipulations. Again, all the below information is accessible on the document! 🐡

Below are the following things I do not accept on the Compendium:

Personal/Single-Character LFC ads.

Content intended for or can be used for bullying, harassment and OOC gossip. E.g. ‘Secrets’ blogs, receipts, callout posts, etc. This does not include in-character tabloid blogs used to generate RP.

Communities that do not have an RP/writing element (large-scale exempt).

Anything I find personally distasteful or goes against the spirit of this project.

Common-sense rule applies.

FAQ.

I want to put my community on the compendium but we have an application process. Is this okay?

Yes! Just note somewhere in your application that's a requirement. The only thing that is mandatory for the Compendium is that you must be open to new members or have a public-facing/accessible facet. There's no point advertising a community if no one can join it in some way!

I want to put my community on the compendium but I only have x number of members —

Also totally okay! People don't start with large communities. Activity is a must but, whether your server has two or two thousand members, if you're looking for new people to join, I'd love to help you find people.

I want to put my community on the compendium but I worry its too niche?

Okay, and? If your Eorzean Fishing Alliance has four members but you roleplay every second weekend, I still want to know about it.

What resources/communities can I add if I'm not the owner of them?

Mutual consent is extremely important to me, so anything that isn't a large-scale community OR a publicly accessible resource must be endorsed by the owner/admin/moderators in order to be added to the compendium. I operate under the assumption that a resource posted to a public space (tumblr, googledocs, youtube, etc) is open to all. A large-scale community is one with a significant member count or openly advertises itself as being accessible to everyone for whatever purpose it serves. If in doubt, please get in touch with me. I'm happy to contact your community owners for you!

How active does a community need to be?

If you find a community has not been active in about two/three months, send me a message and I'll take a look at it. Communities have ebbs and flows, especially event spaces that may take hiatuses depending on member interest/life events. I'm not strict in my implementation provided a space isn't dead. If a link or anything is broken, absolutely contact me about that.

I have [insert a question not stated here]?

No drama! Send me an ask or use the #Compendium channel in my Discord!

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #ffxiv community #｡･ﾟﾟ･ — sea's community compendium #｡･ﾟﾟ･ — sea speaks

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thesparkling-diamond27 · 2 days

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The Second Bridgerton And I: Part 2

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: Y/n Clearwater becomes named the “Sparkling Diamond” by Queen Charlotte herself, but she doesn’t know what to do with all this attention. Of course she has her family, but sometimes that doesn’t seem enough. But what happens when she encounters a specific Bridgerton, which changes the course of her season.

Author’s Note: This chapter has scenes from season 3 episode 2 of Bridgerton. Down below is the link to Part 1. I hope you enjoy Y/nn= reader’s nickname

“Time to wake up Miss Y/n.”

My maid Alexandra. She is in her mid thirties and is a great companion to have. I am quite fond of her, but never in the morning. I am not a morning person, but Alexandra seemed to care less this morning , which was peculiar. She usually lets me sleep in a little longer.

“Miss Y/n! You might have callers coming this morning and you must be ready.”

This sentence alone caused me to sit up abruptly in bed. Callers. I completely forgot. If anyone was interested in me at Lady Danbury’s ball three nights ago, then they would be visiting around midday and this frightened me. I rubbed the sleepiness out of my eyes and made my way out of bed. Alexandra guided me towards my vanity where she would begin with my hair and light makeup. I picked up a thin gold ring decorated with a green daisy in the center from my vanity. I placed it on one of my fingers and started fiddling with it. My father gifted the ring to me for my birthday two years ago and it has became somewhat of a source of comfort for me whenever I was nervous. I couldn’t wear it for the ball since the green didn’t match with my purple dress. Alexandra noticed me fiddling my ring.

“Would you like to wear your ring Miss Y/n? There might be a dress in your closet that might match.”

She knew about the comfort my ring gave me and I was grateful that she was always so perceptive.

“Yes please. You don’t have to call me Miss Y/n you know. I’ve told you a thousand times Y/n is fine.”

“I know, but” she began to brush my hair, “it’s not proper.”

“Well I’m allowing you to be improper.”

I looked at Alexandra through the looking glass with a smile and she returned it.

“Very well then…Y/n.”

She continued to brush my hair and do my make up in silence which caused me to wander in my thoughts. People were possibly coming to call on me and being nervous was an understatement. I kind of secretly wish that nobody would call upon me. It is frightening. I don’t know what to say or do with suitors and I don’t want to embarrass myself, especially since I’ll be in the same room with my family. Adeline would have plenty of suitors because Adeline is the definition of the perfect lady. She is beautiful and always knows the right words to say. Surely she caught the eye of several eligible bachelors at the ball. Far more suitors in comparison to me. This makes me feel like I’m already failing, which is ridiculous since the season just started. I just can’t help but feel like everything I’ve done so far has been wrong. I’m supposed to be the sparking diamond and it appears that everyone expects me to be perfect and graceful. However I don’t know if I can be perfect and graceful or if I want to be.

“Are you ready to get dressed Y/n?”

I looked in the looking glass and Alexandra was no longer behind me. I turned around and Alexandra was standing beside my bed with a pale green day dress laid out for me to wear.

“Yes I am.”

I barely tasted anything at Breakfast this morning. The food smelled delicious, and I was ready to enjoy a nice full breakfast, but as soon as the food touched my tongue the food began to taste like cement (or bland). My mama could sense something was wrong, but never spoke about it, thank god, until we were all gathered into the drawing room. The clock shows three quarters after ten which means that I have fifteen minutes left to myself.

I am sitting on the main couch in the drawing room when my parents approach me. Without saying a word they both guid me past the piano forte and to the other side of the room in order to have more privacy from my siblings. My mama places both her hands on my arms and says,

“My dear Y/n you have nothing to be afraid of. You are a beautiful young lady and I’m sure any gentleman you meet will instantly fall in love once they get to know you. You are brave, kind, strong and wise. You may not feel like you carry those characteristics, but I am here to assure you that you do. Your father and I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

My mama looked at my father and pulled herself back from me as my father took her place. He grabbed my hands into his and said,

“We know you are nervous especially after the event from the previous night …”

Lord Berbrooke. My mother and sister were concerned, but to say my father and brothers were enraged was an understatement. There was practically steam coming out of my brothers ears when we were about to enter our carriages to leave the ball and my father had to stop them from causing a scene. He was furious as well, but he was more calm and collected about his feelings towards the situation because of his role as Viscount. He was angry, but he knew he had a reputation to uphold. I don’t know how they found out, but I didn’t have time to ask because as soon as we arrived home all three of them made sure that I told them my encounter with the man. I didn’t understand what all the fuss was about since he never crossed the line physically, but according to my brothers and father he did step over the line when he kept on pursuing me after I explicitly said no.

Everyone knew the reputation of Nigel Berbrooke and my family was quite puzzled as to how he snuck into Lady Danbury’s ball. He was not respected throughout the ton, which was why he was never personally invited to balls and social events anymore, and my father and brothers found it absurd how he was even present in the first place. They promised to keep an extra eye on me, and Adeline, for when we attend more balls and events in the future. They also notified Lady Danbury first thing the next morning.

“…And I don’t want to give you more nerves,” my father continued “but I have talked with an old friend of mine about a possible match for you.”

I was about to protest, but he beat me to it

“Before you say anything. No you don’t have to marry him, but at least be open to getting to know him.”

I looked up at my father and then at my mother. Being open was the least I can do.

“I will father.”

“Thank you my dear Carina.”

My parents each placed a kiss on my head and the three of us went back to our family.

—————————

Benedict

Hesitating Hyacinth?” Said Colin

“I do not hesitate.” She retorted

“And yet here were are waiting.” Chimed in Gregory

“Perhaps it is to your good fortune, as she fleeced you in the last hand.” Colin said

“I play a long game.” Said Gregory

Hyacinth cleared her throat. “I am pleased with my hand.”

“Now you hesitate.” Colin said to Gregory.

Gregory turned to me and said, “I should like to trade.”

“Hmm?” I replied

“Hmm”

Gregory and I exchanged hands and we continued with our game. Then Colin said out of nowhere,

“I am out of this round.”

“You coward!” Said Gregory

“Told you he had a strategy.” I said

“We may need more coins, the way Hyacinth is playing.” Colin said

I scoffed. What a lame excuse. Colin stood and walked away to do God knows what. I turned around and noticed our footman Oliver waiting for Colin. Someone was visiting him? But who? He became different after he came back from his travels. More distant. I would have to ask him about this secret rendezvous later.

“Are you certain you are not cheating?” Gregory asked Hyacinth.

“Do you think me a magician?” Hyacinth relied

“Hmm.” I said “well if you are please teach us some tricks.”

I could be doing anything else besides playing cards with my two youngest siblings, but the banter between the two of them was always interesting. I knew how this was going to go. Hyacinth hates to win, and Gregory hates to loose to her, so who would want to miss such a spectacle.

Even though we were playing with cards my mind was somewhere else entirely. I couldn’t stop thinking about Y/n. I hope she is well. After she walked away with her brother Noah, I notified Alexander about what happened with Berbrooke. He said he would take care of it and I hope he did. Of course he would that’s his younger sister after all.

“Benedict.” Said Hyacinth “it’s your turn.”

“What? Oh right.”

I wonder if she received a bunch of callers. Who wouldn’t want to sought after Y/n Clearwater the Queen’s sparkling diamond. If I was looking for a wife I would probably try to call upon her myself. She came from a well off family and was quite beautiful. She was also quite charming when we conversed while dancing. I was only with her for a few short moments, but I could tell that she was a wonderful person.

“I won!”

I looked up and saw Hyacinth was out of her chair and she was doing her own victory dance. I assume she won.

“That’s not fair you cheated!” Gregory shouted.

“No I did not! I won fair and square! Right Benedict?”

Hyacinth and Gregory both looked at me expectingly waiting for my answer. To be frank I wasn’t paying attention to the card game at all, so I don’t know if Hyacinth was cheating or not.

“Are you okay brother?” Gregory asked “You are quiet.”

“Of course I’m alright. I am annoyed that I have lost again due to Hyacinth’s cheating!”

“I did not cheat!”

“Yes you did!”

Their banter quickly escalated, like I predicted, and that put a smile to my face. There was never a dull moment at the Bridgerton household

—————————

Any lady of society that says suitors calling upon you isn’t tiring is lying.

There were a lot of suitors calling upon Adeline and I. There was even a line! There wasn’t even half as many gentlemen here for Adeline last season, but then again I am the so called diamond. The gentleman of the ton are curious about me I suppose. I talked with a variety of men. From talkative to shy, conceited, kind, egotistical, funny and so much more. Adeline had a group of men to pick from as well. I hope she was enjoying herself. I couldn’t tell since I was too preoccupied with my callers.

One man that stood out to me was Lord Findlay. We were supposed to share a dance with each other, but never got the chance to after I was keen to leave the ball early due to a certain man. We fell into an easy conversation and I found myself enjoying his company. However, I didn’t see anything past friendship for us in the future. After about an hour and a half, things seemed to calm down and I had just sent away my last caller. I sat myself down on the main sofa of the drawing room and took a deep breath. Finally the event was over. I couldn’t wait to tell Penelope about what happened the past few days. I really hope she is well. I looked around the ballroom, at the Danbury ball, to say goodbye before leaving, but she was nowhere to be seen. I hope everything was alright. Someone walked into the room and it was one of our footmen William.

“A caller for Miss Y/n.”

I looked up and a young handsome man walked in with an older man behind him who I assumed was his father. My father quickly met with the older man and shook hands with him in a friendly way. He then patted the young man on the back. My father turned around and motioned for me to come join them. I made my way over to them and my father said,

“Y/n this is Viscount Victor Tewkesberry and his eldest son Maxwell Tewkesberry. Victor and Maxwell this is my daughter Y/n.”

I curtsied at both of them respectfully and Viscount Tewkesberry and Maxwell both bowed slightly in response. When Maxwell stood back up straight, I noticed he was holding a small white box with an ornate pink bow on the top. He held the box in his left hand and used his right hand to take my hand and place a kiss on the back of it.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you Miss Y/n. Your father has told me much about you and I must say, him calling you beautiful was an understatement.”

My father may have told him about me, but he surely didn’t notify me about him. The first time my father mentioned Maxwell was this morning when he shared that we would be expecting his presence today. Even though I knew nothing of him, I couldn’t help, but blush at his comment. No one has ever said anything to me like that. I decided I should lie about knowing about him beforehand in order to be polite. I didn’t want him or his father to think I wasn’t intrigued because I was.

“It is a pleasure for me as well. My father has told me about you.”

“All good things I hope.”

I nodded. “I hope I could meet your expectations based on what my father has already told you.”

“I can’t see into the future, but I believe that you will.”

This caused me to smile and he smiled back.

“Why don’t you continue your conversation somewhere more private.” My dad suggested.

“Shall we?” I asked.

He simply nodded. I guided him towards the other side of the room and past the couches to the windowsill.

“Is it alright with you if we converse here?” I asked “I am more comfortable sitting by the view.”

“Yes that is fine with me.”

We both took a seat by the windowsill and I looked out into the street. I always tended to find myself looking at the people walking by. Walking on the street and minding their own business. Sometimes I would make up stories in my head based on the people that I would see walking. My eyes drifted to the other houses that were on the same street as mine. Next to my house was the Featherington household and that made connecting with Penelope this season easy, since I only had to walk over a few yards. Across my house was the Wellington family where one of my close friends used to live, but she moved a fews ago a few streets over. Next to the Wellington household across from the Featherington household, and diagonal from my house was the Bridgerton household.

“Do you like to look out at the view?” Maxwell asked.

“Yes. I sit here and usually look out the window or read a good book?”

“Oh you read?!”

“Is it shocking to you that a lady can enjoy reading?”

“No no! Forgive me that is not what I meant. I like to read as well, so it seems we have something in common. What genre do you prefer to read?”

I wanted to answer him truthfully, but I hesitated. Would he like my answer? Even though this is my first encounter with him, I still know who he is. The Tewkesberry family is a very well known family and our families have crossed paths time and time again. I’ve offered a polite smile to the family in passing, but that was different from actually holding a conversation with one of them. I remember the child like image of Maxwell, but we are no longer kids. He is obviously educated, probably attended university, so he probably would want a knowledgeable lady. Which is why I decided on the safe answer.

“I mostly like to read books of fact. They can be quite interesting.”

“What topic do you pertain to the most?”

Oh no. How was I supposed to answer this? I don’t read books of fiction! I rather enjoy a good romance. I tried to muster an answer the best I could.

“I don’t….I don’t really pertain to a particular topic…I….simply like the…random facts…that I learn as I read.”

That answer was preposterous, but I did the best that I could. Tewkesberry looked at me and I couldn’t read the expression on his face. I couldn’t tell if he liked my answer or if he believed me. He changed the topic and I was oh so grateful.

“I have something for you.” He said.

He brought the small white box that he had earlier and held it out for me to take. I completely forgot that he had that. I took the box from his hand and delicately pulled the bow apart. I noticed that he was watching my every move and anticipating my reaction. Once the ribbon was off I slowly opened the box and there were two macarons sitting perfectly and neatly in the box. They were both a baby pink color with a bright fuchsia filling in the middle. They were neatly made and assembled and the smell was a smell that I can identify anywhere. He didn’t obtain these two macarons from some knock off pastry shop in London. He brought these from Paris. They were authentic and I could tell they would taste exquisite. I always had a sweet tooth and I became disappointed at the pastry shops in London after I visited Paris a few years ago.

“Do you like them?” He asked

I looked back up at him.

“Oh no you don’t like it. I’m sorry. I wanted to bring something for you as a gesture and your father mentioned that you were fond of sweets, macarons in particular, so I figured I’d get you some. I asked what your favorite flavor was and he said raspberry. I was recently in Paris dealing with business with my father and I passed by a pastry shop and I’d figure…”

“Hey.”…”it’s alright. I’m actually grateful for the gift. Truly. I was just taking it in.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” I said with a smile. “Would you like to have one?”

“Are you sure? I brought them for you.”

“I know, but there are two of them. We can each have one.” I said with a smile.

I took one of them out and gave it to him to take. I did the same for me and we ate them in a comfortable silence. When I took the first bite my mouth was met with an immediate whirlwind of flavor and like he said it was raspberry. My favorite. I couldn’t help but feel happy. He went through all this trouble to get something that I liked and it made me feel bad for lying to him.

“About what I said earlier…about books of fiction.” I said “I lied.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“I’m not surprised that you said that you prefer books of fiction, but your answer didn’t seem to support your statement.”

“I’m sorry. I wanted you to like me. Half of the time I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

“What is your favorite genre then?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Your favorite book genre.”

“Romance.”

“What about romance do you particularly like?”

I paused to think about my answer and then finally said, “All throughout my life I have been in close proximity to marriages based on love. Mostly with my family. Seeing love in front of me and reading about it in books makes me hope that I can one day have that in the future.”

I looked up at him and he was already looking at me. He seemed to like my answer because his lips turned up into a smile.

“Miss Y/n I am looking for a wife. In my future wife I hope to find a companion. Someone I could talk to. I want to share with her my experiences, feelings and thoughts and I would love for her to do the same. If I am to pursue you, I don’t want you to feel like you have the need to like what I like and always agree with me. You are your own person with your own thoughts and you shouldn’t change for me. Can you do that for me?”

I looked at Tewkesberry and for the first time this season I felt at peace. Which is why it was easy for me to say,

“Yes. Yes I can. “

—————————

I couldn’t wait to see Maxwell at the ball tonight. We had a lovely conversation yesterday and he asked if I could save him a dance tonight.

I am a walking arm and arm with my mama as my family and I enter. The ball was decorated quite nicely.

“Now dearest.” My mama said “I won’t push any suitors your way, due to your interest towards the Viscount’s son. However, if a lovely man is to ask you for a dance you may dance with them if you choose to.”

“Alright mama. My main focus will be on Lord Tewkesberry, but I’ll keep my mind open for other suitors. Shall we greet the Queen?”

“Yes I think that is wise since we didn’t do so at Lady Danbury’s ball.”

“I hope she is not furious with me that I didn’t greet her.”

“Gossip travels fast throughout the ton dearest. I am sure when the news reached the Queen she had a little sympathy for you.”

We both approached the Queen and I curtsied slightly in front of her.

“Flawless my dear. Just how I would expect you to be.” Queen Charlotte said

“Thank you. I’m sorry I couldn’t grace you with my presence at Lady Danbury’s ball. There was an incident that affected my mood and I wouldn’t want to greet you in such a state.”

“All is well my dear. I hear a certain Viscount has found an interest in you.”

I was surprised how she already knew such information. The Queen seemed to notice my surprised face because she said,

“I know all and see all because I am the Queen my sparkling diamond. I am curious to see how this arrangement will continue.”

I nodded and my mama and I walked away from the Queen.

“I am going to search for Penelope mama. It has been a while since we have seen each other.”

“Alright dear, ” Said mama “but be careful.” She gave me a warning look.

“I will.”

—————————

Benedict

Colin and I were near the lemonade table when we were interrupted by a women’s voice.

“Good evening Mr. Bridgerton. Mr. Bridgerton.”

We turned around and saw two young ladies standing before us.

“Ladies!” I greeted. Another woman joined us. “And more Ladies!”

All three of them began to laugh in unison. They would simply try anything to grab our attention I thought.

Colin and I both turned around and I said quietly.

“They’ve taken to hunting in packs.”

Colin and I continued to sip our lemonade.

“Mr. Bridgerton. I have yet to see you on the dance floor.” One of the ladies said. She was Ms. Stowell I believe.

“What say you brother?” Colin asked, “Time for you to dance?”

He did not just throw me to the wolves. I couldn’t believe Colin. He was supposed to rescue me from a situation like this.

“Yes.” I said with annoyance, specifically towards Colin, but the three ladies didn’t seem to notice. They looked at me anticipating to share a dance. I looked at the girl in the middle. She looked the most sensible.

“Miss Stowell, may I have the next dance?”

She excitedly placed her dance card in my hand for me to sign. What did my brother get me into?

—————————

Penelope and I were conversing near a dessert table. It’s been awhile since we enjoyed each other’s company and I was rather pleased. I caught her up on all the events that has happened since I last seen her.

“I’m so sorry to hear about what happened to you Y/nn.” Penelope said, “Lord Berbrooke is a despicable man. I hope you are well.”

“Yes I am.”

“That’s good. I don’t like seeing you in distress.”

“As do I with you.”

“At least Benedict was able to assist you. That was rather nice of him.”

“Yes nice of him indeed.”

I have thought of Benedict quite a bit since we parted. I wonder if he is here tonight.

“So Lord Tewkesberry…” she said with a teasing tone.

“Don’t look at me like that Pen. We are not courting. We are simply enjoying each other’s company.

“But you two danced with one another tonight.”

“It’s nothing Pen, but enough about me. What has been going on with you?”

Penelope looked around and led us to an area that can allow us more privacy.

“You must promise to not tell another soul what I am about to tell you.”

She sounded serious. This must be important.

“I promise.”

“I have asked Colin to assist me with helping me find a husband.”

I looked at Penelope surprised.

“You do not approve?” She asked, “I know it is unorthodox, but we are both friends.”

“I know, but…”

I looked around to make sure no one was listening to our conversation.

“You must be careful Pen. If this deal you made with Colin is to get out, the ton will not take this lightly. Your reputation-“

“I know I know. We’ve been keeping this discreet.”

“Good make sure it stays that way.”

“It will.”

I missed getting to converse with Penelope.

“Why don’t we spend some time with each other soon.” Penelope said

“I would like that very much.”

“Miss Clearwater. Miss Featherington.”

I turned to see Benedict Bridgerton standing in front of us.

“Miss Y/n, can I have the pleasure of escorting you to the dance floor? If there is room on your dance card.”

“Yes you may.”

Benedict smiles and takes my hand to lead me to dance. I look back at Penelope and she gives me a confused look. She was surprised at Benedict’s actions as well. I shrugged and continued to walk with Benedict.

“What is the meaning of this?” I asked

“I need your help and you owe me.”

“I owe you?! Since when do I owe you?”

“Since I saved you from Lord Berbrooke.”

“Just because you saved me does not mean that you deserve something in return. I thought you were a gentleman.”

He stopped and looked me in the eyes.

“I am a gentleman. I would do what I did for you again and again if I had to without anything in return. I simply need someone to help me avoid someone else and you were the only female face I recognized nearby.”

I got lost in his crystal blue eyes.

“Miss Y/n?”

“Oh… well then I guess I have to help you.” I smiled at him and he returned it. We continued our way to the dance floor. The music began and we fell into a familiar rhythm. I became curious about who he was hiding from, so I asked him.

“Who am I saving you from?”

“Miss Stowell and her mama. I danced with her earlier and they have both been following me since. I don’t have intentions to court her, but it appears that she has not received the same message.”

“Ah I see.”

“How is your season going so far?Any man that has caught your eye?”

“Lord Tewkesberry.”

“Ahh he is a great choice.”

“Do you know him?”

“Not personally. However, we have crossed paths multiple times and he is quite the gentleman. Definitely worthy for a lady like yourself.”

I felt my cheeks warm.

“Thank you for passing along that piece of information.”

“Of course what are friends for?”

I stopped dancing. Good thing Benedict was leading and guided me to continue because if not, we would have been a beat behind everyone else.”

“Friends?” I asked

“Yes. Do you not want to be?” He frowned.

“No no! It’s not Iike that. I didn’t expect you to say such a thing.”

“Well now you know that you have become a dear friend of mine.”

“You as well.”

We both smiled and finished the dance. The music came to a stop and I curtsied while he bowed.

“Would you care for some lemonade?” He asked.

“I would be delighted to.”

Benedict linked his arm with mine and we made our way outside to the refreshment table. As I was sipping my lemonade I noticed Penelope from afar talking with Lord Remington. She seemed to be enjoying herself as did he. I smiled at the thought. I was about to speak to Benedict when I couldn’t help but overhear a nearby conversation.

“It is rather unseemly that Miss Featherington took his help. Pitiable I think.”

I turned and heard another voice speak.

“It is kind of him, but perhaps overly so.”

I looked around and several people had their hands coming their mouth and would acasionally look over at Penelope who was now standing with Colin. People couldn’t know what Penelope told me earlier. Right? This is exactly what I was afraid of. Something like this to happen, but how did everyone else find out?

“Are you alright Miss Y/n?”

I turned to Benedict and he looked concerned. I looked around and saw Penelope begin to walk away. I turned to Benedict.

“I’m sorry, but I must take my leave.”

I curtsied.

“Goodbye.”

“Wait!” Benedict shouted, but I was already making my way to Penelope. As I reached the steps I noticed Colin and Eloise exchanging a few words. Penelope had already left to call a carriage. I had missed her.

“Eloise! Did you tell any one of my helping Penelope?”

“No I did - I did not mean to —“

“Which means you did.”

“I confided in Cressida.”

“Because you thought you could trust her? Why are you friends with Cressida in place of Penelope, I will never understand. What could Penelope possibly have done to warrant such maltreatment?!”

Colin continues to ascend the stairs to run after Penelope. Eloise turned around and showed shock due to her not knowing that I was present. I walked down a few steps and said,

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I was after Penelope when I ran into you two.”

“It’s alright.” She replied

She started to walk up the stairs and when she reached talking distance I asked,

“What happened between the two of you? You and Penelope. I know you two were the best of friends last season. What happened?”

Eloise seemed hesitant to answer. I did not expect her to answer, but she did.

“Not everyone is the way they appear to be. Some carry secrets. I discovered that Penelope was one of them.”

Secrets? Penelope keeping secrets? That did not seem true. But then again I don’t know what happened between the twins them so Eloise can be telling the truth. If Penelope does have secrets is she keeping them from me? I would like to think that our friendship was stable enough for her to trust me with these certain things.

“If you did confide in Cressida, I don’t think you had any mal intent when you did so.”

Eloise seemed grateful when I said this.

“Thank you. Brother!”

I turned around and noticed Benedict walking towards us. When did he get here?

“Eloise. Miss Clearwater.” Benedict said.

Eloise looked between the two of us and said

“I shall take my leave. It was nice meeting you….”

“Y/n. Y/n Clearwater.”

“Right.”

She smiled at me and then continued to walk up the stairs.

“I am afraid I am keen to return to my family Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Well allow me to escort you to them. And please, call me Benedict.”

#penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #colin x penelope #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #benedict x reader #queen charlotte #eloise bridgerton #friends to lovers

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anthroposeen · 3 days

Text

tmagp 17 relisten notes!!

as always, tmagp and tma spoilers below the cut! hope you guys enjoy the breakdown :)

celia:

- she's been teleported to another road side, this time very close to a highway in oxford. she missed the play with sam and didnt have a way to contact him about it

- she wants to make up for missing the play by paying for their next date, and seems pretty genuine about her guilt and interest in him

- once the incident ends, she thanks the computer/chester for it. this could have been a sarcastic comment on her part, but it comes across as her acknowledging the case for what it is, and acknowledging that it is somehow curated for her. i think this is evidenced by her telling alice the incident wasnt very useful, implying she tries to find their meaning, and takes them as some form of sentience.

sam:

- he seems a bit peeved that celia didn't call him to tell him she had to cancel, and tells her to not make a habit of this kind of thing. i think its important to keep in mind that we've established he's very sensitive to rejection and people "not having time" for him.

- "im not a big horror fan" who's going to tell him?

alice:

- her computer keeps malfunctioning, showing a jmj error

- shes back to making bad puns and jokes at gwen's expense, a hard shift from her demeanor last episode

- she jokes to gwen about venting their problems as a group exercise, but denies actually having a problem to discuss

gwen:

- she helps alice with the jmj error, and says that colin hasnt been in the office in weeks, though theres no more word in his whereabouts

- she also! denies having anything to talk about! great communication guys!

incident:

- narrated by chester/jon, read at celia's desk.

- incident pulled from the magnus institute oxford outreach center -> important for the obvious reason and because celia woke up in oxford the most recent time she teleported

- darrien is given low viability for agent, subject, and catalyst

- states that "continued incarceration" is the advised method of containing/studying the subject and phenomena, implying that sometime after the statement was given, the magnus institute incarcerated darrien for unknown reasons.

- the statement was given by a man named darrien -> episode 13 also featured a darrien, but it doesn't appear to be the same man to me, i think its most likely that ajn and johhny are just having a good time with recycling names.

- darrien was in a court ordered anger-management program and was transported across dimensions during a therapy session -> intense meditation seemed to be the trigger here

- the receptionist at his therapy office was a "big, soft looking guy" who stumbled over his words, this is followed by the mention of a "bookish looking guy" who darrien says gives him weird pervert vibes. while these are incredibly in character descriptions for them both, i cant say im sure these are alternate-dimension's martin and jon. ide also like to point out that these are characters from darrien's previous universe, not the tmagp one where he finds himself.

- when darrien wakes up from his meditation he has a strong migraine, dry eyes, a stiff neck, and he was dizzy. later, he discovers hes emaciated as he continuously passes out. these symptoms seem to go away as he stays in this dimension

- he woke up in the tmagp universe in a shopping center, coming from a magnus institute outreach post -> seeing as how we know the main building is still active, it could be that the outreach centers also serve as "portals"

- he experienced similar things to anya villette's statement in tma s3. he couldnt contact his employer, had no emergency contact to give the hospital, woke up in a different location, and was taken to the wrong address.

- the tmagp native darrien (who ill call other!darrien for clarity here) was welcoming to his lost doppelgänger, letting him stay in his house and offering him advice on how to keep his anger in check

- darrien describes meeting his other!self as "trying not to fall through the cracks" -> potentially a call back to anya villette's episode "cracked foundation"

- they reasoned the coincidence out by figuring they were half siblings, though they were both named darrien. they discovered a couple of time discrepancies, seeing as their dad died on different days

- the housekeeper, sharon, was wary of them, giving darrien a scared look and looking for opportunities to leave the room when he was around

- when darrien asks how other!darrien manages his anger, hes taken to a heavy door in the basement. there was a single drop of blood on the staircase leading down. ragged breathing and pleading for help rose from below the stairs, and darrien refused to be a part of this anger-vent exercise. he pushed other!darrien into the room, locking it back.

- darrien denies the invitation into the torture chamber, "i couldnt join him down there with my father", later saying he felt guilty for not killing other!darrien and "saving whatever poor soul he had kept". at first, i thought that his other!father was being kept in the basement and tortured, but i think he uses his dad as a metaphor for the anger they both carry. this opens up the scarier realization that other!darrien is just torturing a random person

- once he locked other!darrien in the basement room, he adopted his life.

- sharon didnt return to darrien after her vacation was up, and its thought that she reported him to the institute, where we can assume they began his incarceration

glitches/lies:

- "i'm ok/its ok" spoken by celia as she's trying to reassure herself

- no glitches after gwen and alice say they have nothing to share. its very possible this is because they dont want to share with each other

extra comments:

- the jmj wrror stops popping up after alice proposes talking out their issues as a team, but considering they dont actually do that im chalking it up to a coincidence for now

- this incident follows chester's normal shtick: statement from the magnus institute, directly targeting someones business, and sort of providing a cautionary tale

- this may be my favorite incident so far. it has a very similar vibe to the early tma statements, and an ominous music bit from s1-2 even played briefly as darrien meets his dopplegänger (at least, thats what it sounded like to me). it has a lot of revelation-centered horror that really grabs me, knowing exactly who will be in the house as darrien knocks on the door and following his dopplgänger into the torture room were so vivid for me, its the exact type of horror that always makes me genuinely creeped out!

- this episode raises a lot of questions about the stability of this dimension, and all dimensions in general since there seems to be reoccurring leaks/cracks. this manifests as celia teleporting across space, existing in this universe in general, the giant cavern in the magnus institute ruins, and darrien's adventures in universe-hopping.

- as i mentioned in the incident points, jon and martin have a sort of hinted cameo in darrien's original universe, but a part of me refuses to believe its them just because i enjoy the mystery set up after mag 200. if this is all the content we get of potential jon and martin dopplegängers, ill actually be happy with that. i really do enjoy the notion that they exist in some boring reality somewhere else, and martin still stumbles over his words and jon still needs anger management therapy. i like that theres consistency even in an alternate universe. im certain we wont be seeing these vague background characters again, but i would love to see darrien's reaction to norris's voice.

#tmagp 17 #tmagp #the magnus protocol #tmagp theory #tmagp spoilers #tmagp thoughts #alice dyer #celia ripley #gwen bouchard #sam khalid

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