#behld

                       AN EXCERPT FROM 10  ▇▇▇  2018 . AUDIO RECORDING   FEATURING THE ARCHIVIST, ▇▇▇  ▇▇▇▇ , AND ONE CLARA OSWALD.

         she had woken up late at night, for no reason in particular, and while she was awake she decided to tiptoe to the kitchen for a glass of water. the floorboards creaked slightly underneath her socks, but she didn’t hear the sound of anyone stir. at least, not until she got to the end of the hall where jon’s bedroom was. she didn’t mean to listen in, but she could hear the sound of blankets rustling and sniffling. he’d never said it out loud, but they all had nightmares. it wouldn’t shock her if he had them too.

          after a moment of indecision, she knocked on the door gently before poking her head in with a sheepish look. ‘ um, jon, i heard you were up. do you want a glass of water or... tea? ‘

THIS  MAN  ISN’T  HUMAN.  but  then  again--is  sam,  really?  all  that  thick,  viscous  demon  blood  flooding  through  his  veins,  the  mark  of  the  devil  burned  into  the  underside  of  his  throat  beneath  his  skin  (minemineminemine,  a  very  special  child,  better  than  mothers  milk,  you’re  my  favorite),  head  full  of  poppy  and  dreams  that  dissolved  into  twisted,  nightmarish  predictions  of  the  future,  of  someones  future--did  he  have  the  right  to  judge?  thats  where  things  started  to  get  muddy.  if  dean  were  here,  he’d  slap  him  in  the  back  and  tell  him  that  they  were  all  monster...  except  him.  but  sam  saw  his  wary  eyes.  

jon handshake emoji media too many eyes

martin feels a determination out of place with the acrid stench of death and nightmares in the air     ;     for someone who grew into fear like a hand-me-down jumper or hereditary illness,      he can’t quite say when it was that time made a lion out of him.

“    together.     ”     he repeats   ,    searches for jon’s hand and squeezes it.    martin thinks he’d have found their way out of there sooner or later, whether jon was ready or not , though he doesn’t say it out loud   ---   doesn’t really think he has to anymore   ;   with jon, unsaid and unknown are not synonymous.

maybe he’d felt it too  ,   without knowing as jon does ,  as they decayed there in that cottage. with knitted blankets muffling the world’s corroding remains beyond , the quiet almost-comfort of their hideaway too reminiscent of the remote contentedness of the lonely.

they’ve been beyond the gnarled wooden bones of their shelter for only moments and martin can already feel terror ,  like frost , growing in the corners of his heart   ,   he doesn’t let it shake his step however ,  breathes through it.  allows himself to be in spite of it.   if he has to shoulder the belief that they can fix this for the both of them  ,  martin will.

(    jon can see everything now    ,   and in turn  ,   martin will see him   ;   bear witness to their breaking and unbreaking of the world.    and it’s enough , it’s enough , they’re enough.    they have to be.  )

         ‘ you’re worried about mike. ‘ she didn’t need to be able to read jon’s mind to know who he was talking about. it had been on her mind from time to time since they’d come back from the quest and found that note that he’d joined kronos. it had filled her with anger, especially when they had to face him afterwards. her gray eyes remained focused on jon’s face to see if she could make out any signs of what he was feeling.

@behld​

this violence can’t last. @ tim !

All that can be seen in the dark corner of the Archives is Tim’s eyes. He’s curled , arms wrapped around his knees , trying to slow his ragged breathing. Only a few minutes ago he had been walking back from lunch with Jon when he had felt an URGE. It was the Hunt , he knew. Maybe it sensed something from the Stranger nearby. Maybe it was just fucking with him. It felt like it was just fucking with him because he had found nothing and had nowhere to expend the energy his accidental patron had given him.

It gave him life when he would have certainly died but that didn’t mean everything about it was good. Like the violence that overwhelmed him to the point where he had hidden himself away until the feelings had passed.

Of course Jon had followed him. Tim didn’t want him to but... as he sits , focused on his friend’s face , knowing he COULD NOT hurt him. The urge to Hunt fades after a few minutes. He feels dizzy and exhausted , and he reaches ( carefully ) towards the archivist for help standing.