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gumnut-logic · 2 years

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I’m writing a little Em at the moment, but I don’t have enough to share yet. Working 8am until 8pm is a long day and I’ve just run out of mojo. Though I do have about a page and a bit written. In the meantime, here a little Em Harris reblog.

Warnings: This series is full of ship. If this isn’t your thing, please don’t read. This one is a funny one, but it does contain Virgil/Kayo, Scott/Em (OC), John/Ridley and Gordon/Penelope.

-o-o-o-

This had been a very bad idea.

It had been for fun. The whole family was on vacation. Something that hadn’t happened in about ten years apparently. They holed up in a treehouse/penthouse in the Daintree. Luxury to the extreme, quiet, no one to bother them, rainforest for miles.

The Thunderchicks had the majority of emergencies. John had even dragged his girlfriend down from orbit and Gordon did similar with Penny. Considering the lovefest of the four couples in one house, it had taken Grandma to drag Alan along.

At first five hardworking men and five equally hardworking women had no idea what to do with themselves with all their responsibilities removed. Grandma had to drag both John and Scott away from the communications board at least twice. Kayo found Virgil making unneeded repairs to the building’s superstructure and had to drag him out to the garage where she had stashed his bike for this exact reason. Em noticed that the both of them stayed together in the garage for quite some time after that.

She couldn’t help but smile.

Gordon at least had the pool. One of those with the view to match the money that had been thrown at the building. Penny joined him...often.

Scott was fidgety. Em came up behind him several times and rubbed her fingers over tension points, medically attempting to get him to relax. He picked up on her technique and obviously didn’t mind in the slightest and in every case, they ended up in each other’s arms, him kissing her breathless.

Apparently, he liked doing that.

She didn’t mind at all.

Alan groaned when he walked in on them and spun on his heel and stalked out complaining.

Em ended up giggling.

But this idea? It was beyond giggling and well into hysteria.

Virgil was leaning on her to one side. Em wasn’t sure he was even aware of it. Kayo was staring into the middle of the circle at the pile of empty bottles, her face completely vague. Ridley was staring at Em, John snoring in her lap. The man could not handle his alcohol at all. Gordon was quite happy, bouncing on the spot, his eyes sparkling in the dim evening light. Penny was listing to one side, not quite colliding with Gordon, mostly because Alan was leaning against her, snoring as much as John.

Scott was conscious, but ramrod straight, controls all in place. She wanted to touch him, but she honestly wasn’t sure whether he would keel over or explode.

This was a very bad idea.

But then it had been Gordon’s after all.

“Your turn Em!” The aquanaut grinned at her.

“I think we should stop.”

“Aww, c’mon. Isn’t this what you wanted. They’re all relaxed.”

“Half of them are comatose, Gordon.” Who could possibly have thought that the Tracy brothers had done everything. The fact that all five had hung upside down from the top of a Ferris wheel had blown her mind. That had been a ridiculous suggestion, yet they had all had to drink. Apparently, it had been their last vacation in London, the Eye and an interrupting rescue. John had shuddered enough for Ridley to become concerned.

It was official. The Tracy boys had done everything.

She frantically attempted to think of something she hadn’t done that they hadn’t done.

A sigh. “Um....never have I ever...er...been arrested?” Surely, they hadn’t done that?

“Are you kidding me?” Gordon, glugged down some more drink. “That’s an easy one. Paris. The Louvre.”

What?

Scott raised his hand holding his glass. “Gordon.” As if that explained everything. He swallowed heavily.

Alan snorted, rolled and fell face first onto the carpet.

Gordon laughed. “Hey, bro. Time to take another drink. Remember the teddy bear at the fair?”

“Crap.” Alan grabbed his glass and toasted the air. “Gordon.” Apparently, it did explain everything.

“Gordon.” Kayo said it like a zombie and swallowed some more alcohol. Ridley just stared at her, but was distracted as apparently not-so-asleep John attempted to locate his glass by pawing blindly at the carpet with one hand. His mumbled “Gordon.” Was almost muffled as Ridley tried to grab his arm.

“Lawn flamingo.” Virgil attempted to bring the drink to his mouth, but missed and threw it over his shoulder instead. “Oops.”

Em blinked.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m calling this game. Off to bed with the lot of you. I have the strongest feeling that I should have taken Grandma’s advice and gone to bed early myself.”

There were many a muttered groan, mostly of ‘Awww’ and her name, but the brothers mostly stumbled to their feet. Kayo had to drag Virgil off of Em. The man was heavy.

Ridley smiled at her as she manhandled her space noodle off into their rooms. John was muttering something about ‘Gordon’s fault...didn’t want to do that in a book store.’ Penny helped Alan to his rooms, all the time shooting glares at Gordon.

“What?” The aquanaut looked non-plussed. “What did I do?”

“Gordon, go look after your brother.” Scott’s voice was firm. He still hadn’t relaxed.

Em sighed, grabbed his arm and, activating her hoverjets, pulled him up. “C’mon, Commander, time for bed.”

“Em.” And suddenly she was in his arms.

“Flyboy, your blood alcohol content can be detected from space.”

“Space!” John’s voice echoed down the hallway.

“Not today, spaceman, you’d miss TB5 and end up on Mars.” Ridley was obviously being very patient.

“Not Mars. Wrong trejacktory.” A closing door shut off the rest of the mumbled maths that followed.

“I love you, Em.”

“And I love you.” He was kissing her eyebrow. She suspected that he had been aiming for her lips. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.” She grabbed his lips with her own. Alcohol teased her senses.

She was able to lead him to their rooms quite easily. He followed as if a little lost.

He undressed and threw on his pyjama pants. He even brushed his teeth. She took the opportunity to shed her own clothes and put on the oversized t-shirt she had stolen from him and appropriated for sleepwear. She knew he loved it that she had.

But she didn’t pull herself out of the hoverscoot. She kept herself mobile and waited for him to come to bed.

When he finally walked back in, he had toothpaste on his nose. Em couldn’t help but smile.

Grabbing a tissue, she hovered up and wiped off the offending substance and replaced it with a kiss. “Now, into bed.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted and did as she asked.

“Roll onto your stomach.”

He did, and ended up in the middle of the bed. Em rolled her eyes and nudged him closer to his side. Grabbing the cream she had packed for this exact reason, careful of the ‘scoot’s palm controls, she slicked up her hands and proceed to massage every single one of those knots out of her boyfriend’s shoulders and torso.

His groans meant everything to her. She knuckled, rubbed, rolled, pressed, ironed and kneaded the tension from Scott’s shoulders, his spine and lower back. And bloody hell, the man had so much. She rolled up his pants and ran her fingers over his legs, grabbing the taut muscles there.

Scott was in peak shape. He had to be. She ignored the scars, her fingers skipping over and around them. They had spoken about the incidents. She had seen his medical history. She knew what they were, why they were. Now was about release.

He didn’t say anything, just groaned into his pillow.

By the time she was finished, he was asleep.

She kissed the nape of his neck. Now hopefully he could relax enough to enjoy himself.

If not, there were other methods.

Slipping out of her hoverscoot and onto the bed, she killed the light and darkness took over the room. Pushing onto her side, she let herself relax into the bed.

An arm snaked out and gently pulled her close.

“Love you.” He said it into her hair.

“Love you, too, Scott Tracy, now go to sleep.” She wrapped her arm over his.

“Uh-hmmm.” A soft snore.

She smiled and let herself drift.

-o-o-o-

FIN

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Kayo Kyrano #em harris #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #ridley o'bannon #Gordon Tracy #Penelope Creighton Ward #virgil/kayo #scott/em #john/ridley #gordon/penelope #nuttyfic reblog #romance

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timefadesaway · 2 years

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wait hi omg can you tell us more about your band ocs? im so curious

OMG HI YES!!!!! i’ll add a read more i’ll get carried away

ok so the guys are al (lead vocals/bass), lawrence (guitar), cleo (drums) and charlie (keyboard/rhythm guitar/anything else basically). and the band is flyford favell or sometimes just the flyford...

al isn't very good at his job as a bassist and he isn't the best singer in the world like all the other people in the band could probably out-sing him but he's also kind of bonkers. so he sings bc he's a good frontman and he's full of himself. he's a dick and everyone hates him which is very important. charlie doesn't hate him at first and they're close and go on vacation with each other and charlie's wife all the time until they have a mysterious falling out when charlie gets divorced and start having punch ups in the studio. he has a flop solo career and multiple divorces and endears himself to no one

lawrence is the main songwriter and he's very good at it for the short amount of time he's doing it. he also can actually play unlike al but his autistic swag prevents him from being the frontman. he's british for no reason other than i needed a reason to name the band after a random british village and he and cleo become really close friends during the uk tour and he's later the maid of honour at her wedding. he retires in 1972 which is part of the reason for the band breakup and buys a farm back home and disappears from the public eye until the mid-90s when he releases a critically acclaimed solo album which is a meditation on grief. and then he just kind of chills and has a nepotism britpop niece

cleo is probably the like. standout musician of the group and her drumming kind of becomes quite important to their whole sound :) she's been playing professionally since she was about 16 and sneaking out. she plays for a few bands before joining flyford and gets popular off that. she later relocated to london and forms her own band with her friend/then girlfriend sylvia called the mansa musas who are like. a proto-punk/experimental hard rock group. she never really gets the success she deserves but becomes kind of a cult figure and she stays as a session drummer throughout her life before she retires with her husband to the seaside (bc everyone is like 80 now.)

charlie is the only one with any musical training and he went to juilliard as a pianist because i think that's funny. he's my john cale. he's a pretty talented arranger and multi-instrumentalist and fills in on the band's later more ambitious arrangements. he and al have a tenuous interpersonal relationship, the details of which remain unknown to the public. once the band breaks up he disappears for a few years and then comes back and releases like 30 albums because he loves cocaine. and then he gets sober in the 90s. by present day he's hanging out with al again maybe he's about to keel over but people have said that for years and he hasn't yet. he's also chilling

they form in 1967 and break up in 1972. they have like 3 albums in that time, only one of them doing especially well and they tour the US/UK a couple of times. they start quite folk-rocky but by the time they break up they're more prog/hard rock/experimental ig? they're fun i love my guys :) we have a little wiki going for our made-up record company me and some friends + mutuals which is still a work in progress but if u wanted to read some more there's a lot here!! it's mostly full character stories and history and album details etc 😁 not all of it is mine just stuff to do with flyford and its members

this is so so long but thank you so much for asking 😁😁😁

#ff #thank youuuu sorry this is so long 😭

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izayoichan · 2 years

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Pick three random ocs and share three random facts about them!

Emil:

Was once a scolar, and still has that very much in him. When teaching he has a calm and patience that not many can say they manage.

Their biggest fear is to loose everything again. They never thought they would have life after what happened to Tyvan and his eggs. But through the bond with a teen, he is redescovering who he once was.

Will always be scareed by the events, even when they move on, the scars and fears will still be with him.

John:

Is very very owned by a small Corgi (small spoiler but meh, you may have it). He never thought a small happy-go-lucky dog could make him smile as much as it does.

Some choices he has made will turn his life uppsidedown and then some.

Breaking rules, comes with consequenses, as he will learn.

Devan Keeling:

In some universes he is feared as the destroyer of planets and worlds, in others he is revered as a kind god. All depending on what him and his twins father wanted off them. These days, he is just a liberarian with a cat, and happy to be it.

Very owned by one black cat. Where he goes, she does too, and yes, she is in the library, because she does a good job there, keeping mice etc away from the books.

Has both powerful destructive magic and healing magic, but unlike his twin, he has no dragon form. Magical sword though and wings, yes.

Thank you for asking 💕

#oc development #its kinda my favorite thing #fun to think more about those characters you don't always think about as well

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hysterialevi · 6 years

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When the Devil Cries pt. 17

Fanfic summary: (NO SPOILERS IN THIS STORY) After arriving in Saint Denis, Arthur ends up falling in love with a seemingly innocent pianist, only to find himself in a battle with one of the most notorious outlaws to ever emerge from America. Now, between working for Dutch and robbing money for the gang, Arthur has to also protect the man he loves as the two of them try to find their freedom.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Male OC

Previous chapter

This story is also on AO3

From Arthur’s POV

A COUPLE HOURS LATER

SHADY BELLE

Practically leaning my entire body against Eddie due to fatigue, the boy hurriedly rode through the thick woods surrounding Shady Belle as we approached the abandoned mansion, instantly catching the attention of the guards.

Things seemed peaceful enough ‘round here, and it didn’t look like Atticus had reached the camp yet which was a huge relief considerin’ the shit Eddie and I just went through with the O’Driscolls. Though, that only made me wonder whether it was because they didn’t know our location, or because they was simply bidin’ their time. I supposed we would see soon enough.

Slowin’ down to a halt, Eddie transitioned into a steady trot as we got closer to the camp’s entrance, causin’ someone to block our path. It was John.

“Who goes there?” He called out, readying his rifle.

“Relax, Marston!” I replied, my voice a lot more hoarse than normal. “It’s me, Arthur.” I gestured to Eddie. “Don’t worry ‘bout him. He’s a friend. He means no harm.”

John took a better look at me, his eyes widening in concern once he noticed my wounds.

“Jesus...!” He exclaimed. “The hell happened to you out there, Arthur?”

“I’ll explain later...” I slurred out, struggling to keep myself upright. “Right now, I just need to speak with Dutch. Y’know where he is?”

Marston pointed to the mansion. “I think he’s in there with Hosea. He’ll wanna see you. You’ve been gone for quite a while. But...what about your friend?”

I held back a pained groan. “Like I said...he can be trusted. He won’t breathe a word about this place to no one. I wouldn’t have brought him here if I thought otherwise.”

He still appeared somewhat hesitant, but allowed him inside anyway. “Well...if you’re sure. Just keep an eye on him. Folk ain’t gonna be happy you brought a stranger to us.”

I nodded, holding onto Eddie as he took us into the camp. “I know...I know.”

Proceeding through the barricades, the pianist hitched his horse just outside the entrance and helped me down as the gang slowly gathered around us, all of ‘em curious to see what was goin’ on while Eddie guided me to the mansion.

From all different directions, I could hear the other members murmurin’ to each other in both relief and alarm as they speculated about the situation, skeptical to trust the new face I had brought along with me.

“...Is that Arthur?” Mary-Beth asked, pokin’ her head above Charles’ shoulder. “Has he come back?”

“Looks like it,” the man replied in a stoic tone. “He’s not alone though.”

Micah let out an annoyed yet somehow amused scoff, casually sharpening his knife. “Pfft. Leave it to Morgan to make a grand entrance like this.” He raised his voice slightly. “Welcome home, Arthur! I’m sure things’ll be just fine now that you’re here.”

I threw a glare at him, doin’ my best to keep up with Eddie’s pace. “Shut your mouth, Micah.”

He grinned. “A gentleman as always, my brother.”

Sadie jumped in, both her and Pearson’s eyes nailed onto me as the pianist was forced to come to a stop with how many people was surrounding us.

“Arthur!” She greeted, her brow furrowed in anxiety. “Goddamn, what happened to you? Was it them Pinkertons?”

I shook my head, growing weaker by the second. “...No.”

A sense of anger ignited her already wild eyes. “Well, whoever it was, they’re gonna have hell to pay.” Sadie turned to Pearson. “Don’t just stand there! Get him somethin’ to eat, for God’s sake. The man looks dead!”

The chef complied, briefly acknowledging me before taking his leave. “Right, of course. Mister Morgan.”

“Pearson.” I said back.

Bill and Javier hopped in the minute Pearson left, bombarding me with even more questions.

“Well, you’ve seen better days, amigo.” The latter remarked.

I let out a frail chuckle. “I’ve also seen worse.”

“Who even did this to you?” Bill asked.

“And more importantly, did they follow you?” Javier added.

Again, I shook my head. “No. I don’t think so. We didn’t see anybody on our trail.”

“Yeah,” Bill commented grumpily, “people like to make sure you don’t see them when they’re followin’ you, Arthur.”

I sighed. “I don’t have time for this, Williamson. I just need to speak with Dutch.”

A voice of pragmatism joined the conversation, breaking up all the commotion.

“Well, here I am.”

Pushing his way through the crowd with Hosea in tow, Dutch’s presence alone instantly caused the entire gang to fall silent as the two of them walked up to me, immediately recognizing the boy standing by my side.

Both of them looked distressed upon seeing my injuries -- Hosea especially -- but in Dutch’s face, I could also see a hint of anger and uncertainty. It was pretty damned obvious he didn’t approve of my bringin’ Eddie into the camp, and I didn’t blame him one bit for it.

I mean, here I was, lookin’ like a corpse come back to life with God-knows-what chasing me, and a man who was a stranger to most of the people in the camp. They didn’t know a damned thing about him, or the men who wanted him dead, and yet, I had allowed this boy to enter the heart of our operations. Not only that, but I had also possibly led Atticus and gang here, too.

Goddamn, I really was a fool. But I was a fool with no other choices.

Taking a step towards me, Dutch examined my burned and cut body, his brown eyes flicking up and down.

“Oh, my boy,” he said, “my dear boy...what happened to you? And why’ve you brought your friend here?”

“He saved me, Dutch,” I answered, my words almost incoherent at this point. “...He saved my life.”

The man glanced at Eddie. “Is that true?”

Eddie nodded, adjusting my arm around his shoulder as I hung like a noose. “Arthur was kidnapped,” he explained. “By the O’Driscolls. They were holding him in their camp. I got him out though.”

Dutch cursed. “Colm’s involved in this? Shit. I shoulda known.”

Hosea gave the boy a sincere expression of gratitude. “Well, you certainly have our thanks, young man. It was brave of you to do that.”

“Indeed,” Dutch agreed, “but I hope you don’t mind, Arthur, I’m still gonna have someone keep an eye on your friend here.” He turned to a random member. “Micah?”

I mentally groaned to myself. Out of all people...

“Sure thing,” Micah said, moseying on up to the boy. “Don’t you worry, Arthur. I’ll take good care of him.”

I glowered at the sleazy man. “Oh, I’m sure you will.”

Dutch promptly took Eddie’s place and allowed me to lean on him, sensing the growing tension between me and Micah.

“In the meantime...” he continued, “let’s you and I head inside, and you explain what all this is about.” He glanced at his friend. “Hosea? Come with us, would you?”

The older man rushed over. “Of course.”

Helpin’ me inside the mansion, Dutch and Hosea guided me through the front doors while the rest of the gang stayed behind, all of ‘em watching with a newfound curiosity.

I didn’t much like the idea of leavin’ Eddie alone in a camp full of outlaws -- especially not when Micah was the one guardin’ him -- but I knew the kid could handle himself, and I trusted most of the people here to keep things civil. I only prayed I was right.

After all, folk here had been stressed recently, and Lord only knew what they went through while I was away. I doubted it would take much more to push ‘em over the edge, and the last person I wanted them to be takin’ out their anger on was Eddie.

Jesus. I really hoped I did the right thing, bringing him here. He was a fish outta water among us criminals, and if somethin’ were to go south, Eddie didn’t exactly have any other places to hide. This was his only viable option at the moment, and Atticus already had his men crawlin’ all over the wilds. If he went back out there, he would get killed.

I supposed our only choice now was making things work...no matter how hard it would be.

Assisting me to the closest couch, Dutch plopped me down on the cushioned piece of furniture as I sighed in relief, finally able to relax a little ever since escapin’ from Colm’s camp.

After endurin’ the kidnapping, the beating, the shooting, and the longest goddamned ride of my life...honestly, I could’ve fallen asleep standing up. But I had to discuss things with Dutch and Hosea first, and hopefully, if I got lucky, convince him to let Eddie stay.

Dutch examined my broken body, the more vengeful side of him comin’ out as he looked to me for answers.

“Now...you mind tellin’ me just what the hell is going on? How did Colm find you?”

I clutched my wound, tryin’ to keep myself from keeling over. “He weren’t alone. Colm’s teamed up with another gang, Dutch. The same gang that wants Eddie dead. They was plannin’ to use me as bait to lure him in.”

Dutch glanced outside. “Eddie. That’s the boy you brought with you?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Eddie Ryan. You met him briefly at that gala a while ago. The people who sent them assassins after him -- they’re finally here. And they’re doin’ everything within their power to kill him.”

Hosea raised another question. “And who are ‘they,’ exactly?”

I coughed a few times, suddenly feelin’ extremely parched. “...Atticus Rose. That’s the gang’s leader.”

A sense of familiarity twinkled in the old man’s eyes. “Atticus Rose?”

I perked my head up. “You know him?”

“Not personally,” Hosea replied, “but back in the days of the Wild West, stories about him used to circulate, especially around New Austin. They say he’s an extremely skilled gunslinger. Was raised by the very same outlaws that killed his parents. And once he was old enough, Atticus killed the ones responsible in return. Formed the survivors into his own gang. Though...like I mentioned before, these are just stories. They’re probably more mythical than factual. Most-likely nothing more than tales created by outlaws to scare civilization from spreading to the west.”

I leaned against the back of the couch. “Well, I can assure you: he’s very real. And he wants Eddie dead.”

Dutch gave me a stern glare, gesturing to the mansion around us.

“...And so you bring the boy into our home? Into our sanctuary...?! Even knowing who’s after him?”

A pang of guilt hit me. “I know, Dutch. I know. It’s dangerous, and it’s risky...and I’m sorry for doin’ it...but that boy ain’t got nowhere else to go. They’ve surrounded his house, and they’re searchin’ all over the wilderness for any signs of him. Eddie may be tougher than he looks, but even he can’t go against that many men. He’ll be killed out there.”

Dutch sighed in frustration, unconvinced. “Well, like I said before, Arthur, we can’t afford taking a risk like this! We don’t have the time or the resources!”

“Eddie could be of use to us, Dutch,” I assured. “He’s a good shot, and he’s lived in Saint Denis for years now. He knows that city better than any of us combined. We’ll need that knowledge if we’re still plannin’ to hit that bank. And most importantly...Eddie’s loyal. He’s got no reason to turn his back on us, and he trusts me. We’re the only option he has left. He won’t give us away.”

Dutch’s mind still wasn’t swayed.

“I’m sorry, Arthur, but we got our own enemies. Our own battles. Our own problems! And that boy ain’t one of them!”

Hosea joined in, voicing his own opinion.

“He is now.”

Dutch suddenly cocked his head towards him, clearly upset about the situation.

“Hosea, we can’t--”

“--You would’ve done the same for Annabelle!” The older man fired back, almost looking disappointed in his brother. “And I would’ve done the same for Bessie. Arthur’s right. This is a dangerous move, and it is risky...but that don’t matter. People like Eddie are the reason we started this gang, Dutch. You’ve said it yourself: we shoot fellers as need shooting, save fellers as need saving, and feed ‘em as need feeding. We aren’t perfect, but we can protect the people we love. ...I say the boy stays.”

Making his position clear, Hosea went quiet after that and took a moment to calm himself, causin’ Dutch to glance back and forth between the two of us as he made a decision, obviously torn by the dilemma.

He didn’t look as eager to take Eddie in as he did when we sheltered Mac, or Jenny, or even Sadie, but I could tell some part o’ him still cared, and he knew how much that kid meant to me.

At the same time though, none of us could ignore the threat of the Pinkertons closin’ in on us more and more with every passing day. Agent Milton had already found us twice, and there was no tellin’ how many more of them was watching our every move.

Having to worry about them as well as Atticus and his gang...it was gonna stretch us thin. It was gonna make the tensions in camp escalate even higher, and there was also the fact that I didn’t know how the rest of the gang would accept Eddie. If they’d accept him at all.

It was a choice that was gonna end up dividing us one way or another, but all I wanted was to keep the boy safe. That was it.

Rubbing his chin in thought, Dutch turned back to me and took a breath, his eyes narrowed in skepticism as he pondered the decision.

“...You really care about this boy?” He asked. I gave him a sincere look.

“I do.”

“And you think he’s worth it?”

Again, my answer was the same.

“...I do.”

Dutch took the response to heart, appearing to have finally changed his mind as he peered through the mansion’s windows, examining Eddie for a second before announcing his conclusion.

It was pretty evident he didn’t think much of the boy, and he had a hard time seein’ the same things Hosea and I saw in him, but deep down, I could tell he was still hurting from losin’ Annabelle. He understood more than anyone how hard it was to lose a loved one, and despite how much we may have argued recently, Dutch didn’t want the same thing to happen a third time.

He let out a reluctant sigh, seemingly willing to give Eddie a chance at least.

“...Very well,” he agreed. “If both of you think this man has a place here...then I suppose we can keep him around for a while. Least until he sorts things out.”

I looked up at him with a hopeful gaze. “So you’re lettin’ him stay?”

Dutch nodded, resting his hands on his hips. “Yes. Mister Ryan...is now part of the gang.”

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 story #arthur morgan #eddie ryan #arthur morgan x male oc

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liamakorn · 6 years

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Absolution (Part One)

A/N: Oh, boy howdy, it’s here. And it’s a two-parter!! Yas!! The second part is gonna take a little while to come out, considering my midterms are arriving and I need to prepare. But fear not! Soon, you’ll have all the John seed lovin’ I know you sinners want, trust me ;) But for now, enjoy this angst, and let me know what you think! Also, this deviates from the plot slightly, so...theres that XP

Part 1 -Part 2 -Part 3

(Edit: AH! I forgot to tag @obscure-fae , sorry hun! Better late than never I suppose 😅)

Pairing: John Seed x OC (Not the Deputy)

Warnings: Mentions of abuse and neglect, John’s in a cage, he’s a little shit. I think that’s it?? Some truly awful banter. Like, one swear? Also, I think maybe I wrote John just a tad out of character. Hope that’s cool.

Word Count: 2,839

Rating: PG-13

Maggie paced across her darkened room, radio emitting a static shrill that she barely paid any mind to.

The news had just come in.

John Seed had been apprehended.

After all the pain he had caused. The death and destruction he had left in his wake. The people of Fall’s End had finally caught him. It was a bittersweet moment for her. While, yes, it was good that his reign of terror in Holland Valley was over, for now at least...he was in Fall’s End. Just a few buildings away.

And it was Maggie’s job to watch him.

Now, that’s not to say she was alone in the task. Three people had been chosen by the Deputy to watch over the Herald. These three would take shifts, rotating every 8 hours or so. That in itself would be terrifying, but for Maggie, it was worse. Her shift ran from 10 pm to 5 am. Meaning, she’d be spending all night with a psychopath cult leader who carved people’s sins into their flesh. Exciting, I know.

She was still trying to unravel the knot that had settled in her stomach when she left her quarters, finally working up the courage to make her way across town to the Spread Eagle, a well-known bar in this part of Hope County. She smiled at Mary May, the owner of the establishment, and someone Maggie would consider almost a parental figure. Maggie opened her mouth to speak, before shutting it quickly, staring nervously at the door leading to the basement. Mary May nodded, blonde hair swishing with her head.

“He’s restrained, caged, and beaten to high hell. He can’t hurt ya past empty threats.”

The redhead sighed, biting her lip and hesitantly stepping towards the threshold. Moonlight slipped past the dusty windows, illuminating the glass Mary May held in her hand as she raised it in salute. Chuckling, Maggie took a deep breath and grabbed the doorknob, marching down the steps before she could change her mind. Waiting for her at the base of the stairs was Alice, a girl of barely 17, who looked about ready to keel over any second. Glancing at Maggie for barely a moment, Alice huffed a sigh of relief, dragging herself out of her chair and trudging to the door.

“Thank. God. I swear, I was about ready to die of absolute boredom. This guy never says anythin’, doesn't even try to escape so I can shoot ‘im!”

With another sigh she starts up the stairs, leaving Maggie to her shift.

“Have fun with doing nothin’.”

Well. This should be fun.

The walls were old, cracks littering the stone no matter where you looked. Most were tiny, barely perceivable unless you squinted. Others were practically the length of the room, suggesting it had been built before even Mary May was born. There were crates of varying sizes stacked against the left wall, probably holding alcohol of some sort, as well as smaller boxes of utensils, glasses, etc. In one corner there were cleaning supplies, next to a door Maggie assumed to be a closet. In another corner, there were cans of food that had been there since god knows when, beside a row of mostly empty wine racks.

But the thing of interest rested against the far wall. A medium sized cage, one meant for that of a wolf or bear, was propped between the refrigerator and a stack of kegs, leaning precariously against the former. It appeared makeshift, as if it had been ripped apart and someone, probably Nick, taped it back together the best they could.

Inside the cage sat a man, hands tied behind his back, face bloodied and bruised, but still recognizable in its features. His shirt was torn, the scarified tattoo of ‘Sloth’ reading clear across his chest, along with several of his other tattoos. His brown hair was tousled haphazardly; the ends just barely managed to hang in front of his eyes. Oh, his eyes. While his face remained mostly clear of any wrinkles and blemishes - save for the contusions and visibly broken nose - his eyes seemed lined in a pain she couldn’t quite place, and, quite honestly, never wished to be acquainted. To her surprise, when Maggie looked into them, he was already staring back, a gleam in the striking blue depths. As if he was in control. As if she was the one locked in a cage.

Like an animal, ready to strike.

She couldn’t help the shiver that ran down her spine, peering at this man who had caused the misery of so many of her friends. She had never seen him face to face, and while, yes, he was definitely intimidating…

She never allowed herself to finish that thought, lifting her gaze to the chair she would be spending the next several hours sitting in. The thought made her skin itch, but she ignored that, squaring her shoulders and taking a seat, purposely not looking in John Seed’s direction. His gaze never faltered, following her movements with a frightening steadiness.The hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention.

This was going to be a long night.

----

It was about half an hour into her shift when Maggie began to fidget. An hour, and she started tapping her boot against the ground. At two hours, she was ready to bust out some jumping jacks, just to have something to do. And still, John hadn’t said a word. She now understood what Alice had meant. The silence was eating her alive.

“I hope you don't mind, I helped myself to your rifle.”

She spat out the words, anything to break the tension; but, even though she intended her tone to be snarky and hardened, her voice was soft and apprehensive, sentence expelled in a single breath. Glancing at the caged man, she was startled to find his gaze already on her, peering through the steel in a way that could only be described as predatory. This time, she didn’t break the connection, staring at him with just as much intensity. Slowly, like a cat, he smirked, tilting his head ever so slightly. While he didn’t verbally reply, Maggie cast her gaze down, playing absentmindedly with the cross dangling daintily from her neck.

“I will get out of here, you know. “

Starting, she almost didn’t realize the words came from him. His voice was rough, gritty from underuse. There still contained a certain charisma to it, though. A lilt that enticed you to listen, to hear more of what he had to say. Maggie got the impression he could talk his way out of pretty much anything if he really wanted to.

She raised her emerald eyes to his, confused by the casual note in his tone. He was very relaxed, she noted, for a prisoner with the hatred of an entire county on his shoulders.

“...no. You won't.”

A snort fell from his lips, as if her statement was preposterous.

“Of course I will. Tell me,”

He rose to his knees, leaning as close to her as his cage would permit.

“When a dragon says, that he is going to eat you... That he is going to swallow you and your entire village whole...what do you do? Do you try to reason with him? Do you brush his threats aside, denying he even has the ability to do so? Or do you run, plead for mercy, worship him in an effort to save your own skin? What do you do?”

Maggie paused, brows furrowing. Was this a trick question? What game was he playing at?

“...um…”

She shrugged slightly, licking her dry lips before answering.

“Offer it a banana instead?”

John faltered, smirk falling for a second. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, and Maggie almost could’ve believed he hadn’t heard her.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, he cracked, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest, before evolving into a full-on laugh that filled the room. Maggie’s gaze darted away quickly. It took everything she had not to smile with him. And yet, it felt...oddly good...to have made the supposed sociopath laugh, to see under the intense facade he’d put up with the others. She tried not to look into it too much.

----

After a week of the same routine, Alice finally convinced Rook to switch her with someone else, claiming she would ‘literally shoot herself in the foot if she had to sit through one more shift with the silent psycho.’

Sighing lightly, Maggie shuffled down the creaky steps, her catnap doing nothing to relieve the exhaustion in her bones. She should’ve never agreed to the night shift.

Tom, Alice’s replacement, was definitely...different...than his predecessor. A burly, gargantuan of a man, he stood at least a foot, if not more, over Maggie’s meager frame. Not that it was hard to do. At 5’2”, it was rare anybody wasn’t taller than her.

Tom greeted her with a curt nod, back pin straight as always. He marched out of the room without so much as a word, brushing past Maggie, who gave him a mock salute. Once he was out of earshot, she scoffed, muttering to herself, “Does he ever relax?”

A light chuckle met her ears, followed by,

“Whoso pulleth out the stick from his ass, is rightwise king born”

A short giggle fell from her lips, trying, failing, to hide the smile on her cheeks. John always did this. Stayed quiet for the majority of the night, only to make quips and jokes that never failed to make her laugh, no matter how hard she tried not to. At first, it was annoying; but Maggie soon found herself enjoying these moments, looking forward to them, even. Which in itself was something that kept her awake, even as fatigue ached in her bones. The fact that maybe she was even beginning to care for John Seed was a thought she couldn’t quite comprehend.

Taking the seat she had become quite accustomed to, Maggie shifted, trying to get comfortable on the creaky wood of the chair. After a few minutes, she gave up, resigning herself to the dull pain in her back.

John hummed, looking at her carefully. She raised her brows, refusing to back down in this weird staring contest. She refused to acknowledge the fluttering in her stomach, instead focusing on the discomfort of her stool. When it seemed like he wouldn’t speak at all, he finally did, voice low and gravely.

“So...Maggie...what’s your story?”

Her forehead crinkled, the question catching her off guard.

“What?”

A wider, more genuine smile took to his lips, shoulders shrugging in nonchalance that was definitely fabricated.

“If I’m going to be locked in here for the rest of my days, I might as well learn the tale of my beautiful prison guard. So. What’s your story?”

Maggie tried to swallow the lump in her throat, unconsciously tugging on the ends of her hair. He was just goading her. She needed to calm down. But he just called her beautiful.

Clearing her throat, Maggie paused, collecting her thoughts before speaking.

“Well…”

There was no point in lying now, was there? What was he going to do? Laugh at her?

Yeah, probably.

“Well. My name is Maggie Cartwright.”

John rolled his eyes, motioning, as well as he could, for her to go on. Of course. That was obvious. She squirmed in her seat, crossing her arms and examining the concrete beneath her boots.

“I...grew up in Ohio. Small town, nothin’ special there, except for a barbershop and a dusty old train station that hadn’t run in ages. Anything else even resembling civilization was at least an hour drive away, so people tended to just stay in their little corner, rarely interacting. Same went for my family, we...never really left the house. ‘Cept to go to church.”

He nodded, giving no more confirmation that he was listening than that slight inclination of his head. The words began to spill out of her mouth, eyes still fixated on a stain marring the rough stone underfoot.

“I had a brother, but...he left home when I was barely old enough to walk, so...it was always just me and my parents. My dad was a farmer, always out in the fields, or at the market, tryin’ to sell whatever we had to give; sometimes the clothes off our backs. Mama never worked a day in her life, but she took care of the house, made sure there was dinner ready by the time he came home. If it wasn’t...he’d get...angry.”

“Did he hurt you?”

The question jarred her from her daze, a shaky sigh heaving from her chest. Maggie finally looked back to the Herald, blinking a few times as his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

“Not...necessarily. Of course, there was the occasional smack or punch. When Papa would drink a little too much, or had too long of a day. I’d leave something around the house, or forget to do a chore…”

She stared into her lap, fiddling with her necklace.

“But usually they would just...ignore me. Leave me to whatever it was that kept me entertained. Which wasn’t much, considering I was practically the only kid in town, everybody else moved away. So it was just me...alone.”

Maggie blinked back tears, clearing her throat roughly. She wasn’t even sure why she was telling him about this, or why it was affecting her so badly. She thought she’d gotten over all this but…

“It’s alright to cry, you know. To let all those feelings out, all that wrath.”

She snapped her gaze to his, shaking her head slowly.

“I’m not...I’m not angry, John.”

He gave her a tender smile, raising a brow.

“Yes, you are. I can hear it in your voice. You hated how your father treated you. How he treated your mother. You hated your brother, for leaving, for letting it happen, for abandoning you. You hate how they neglected you. How they overlooked you. Disregarded you. You hate them.”

Her denial died in her throat, the expression he wore making her heart flutter.

“You hate them, because you hated being alone.”

Releasing a shaky breath, she turned away, biting her lip to keep the tears from falling. She couldn’t stand him. That he was right. Because she was angry, and she had hated them. But that fact that he knew that, that she was so easy to read, terrified her. How could she have been so naive as to have basically laid her heart right in the open for him to see? For him to manipulate?

“Maggie.”

She didn’t turn back, only gave a slight inclination of her head. John sighed, and though she couldn’t see his face, she could almost feel him staring at her, with those big blue eyes that haunted her very dreams.

“Maggie, I know it’s hard to admit to your anger. And I know you might be turning that wrath to me, because it’s the easiest solution, but I understand.”

Slowly, she twisted just slightly toward him, barely even breathing as she listened to what she knew, deep down, was him trying to convert her. To get on her good side so she’d confess.

It didn’t stop her from paying attention, hanging onto every word he spoke.

“I understand that pain. Of feeling abandoned, and alone, even in a place where you should feel the most love. I know how you feel, and I promise, you can be saved. I can help you manage that anger, come to terms with the ache that I know sits in your chest like a stone. I can save you.”

A soft sigh escaped her, head resting against the wall.

“The pain...does it ever go away?”

His breathing was light, the only sound in the otherwise silent room, save for her heartbeat pressing against her ears.

“...no. You just learn to make room for it.”

The worst part? She wanted to believe him. She wanted so badly to feel that absolution he preached about, wanted freedom from the constant twinge in her heart. Finally looking at him, Maggie could clearly see that same twinge in his own eyes, the seeming genuine nature of his claims. She knew better. Logically, Maggie could tell he was lying, anything to get him out of that cage, to recruit another faceless mask into his brother’s cult.

But she couldn’t help but feel that pull. That pull toward the dark and twisted, toward all she had been warned against. She knew he was lying, but her heart begged her to listen, to trust that he would absolve her of all she despised in herself.

And that was her truest fear in all of this. That was the one thing she had been dreading since the Deputy had assigned her this task. He enraptured her in a way that she couldn’t explain...and Maggie was terrified.

#my writing #i'm sorry if this sucks #john seed #absolve me of my sins #far cry 5

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certainheartrunaway · 4 years

Text

DXNL News No. 2240

DXNL 2240 - March 10, 2021 DX Newsletter a free and weekly service of DARC Committee "DX" (http://www.darcdxhf.de) Editor: Klaus Poels, DL7UXG (e-mail: [email protected]) translation by: Oliver Bock, DJ9AO 9J, Zambia: Bodo/HB9EWU is currently working on a humanitarian mission in the north of Zimbabwe and may get on the air as 9J2BG on 20m. QSL via HB9EWU (d/B), he will take care of cards after his return in 2022. A2, Botswana: Vasily/R7AL, Leo/UI8J, Vlad/R9LR, and Mike/RU3UR will be active from Gaborone between the 15th and 26th as A25RU. QRV with 4 rigs on 160-10m and via QO-100 on CW, SSB, and FT8 (F/H mode). QSL via ClubLog OQRS. https://rv6ali.wixsite.com/botswana2021 G, England: Members of the Welland Valley ARS honour Saint Patrick, Ireland's patron saint, with the callsign GB0SP between the 16th and 18th. QSL via G4XEX. HC, Ecuador: Rick/NE8Z is back on the air as HC1MD/2 from the province Santa Elena until the 15th on 40-6m (CW, SSB, FT4, FT8). QSL via K8LJG, LoTW. I, Italy: Members of the ARI section Carpi (Modena) commemorate the 117th anniversary of Capitan Pastene, a town in Chile founded by Italian emigrants, with the callsign II4CPC. QRV between March 12 and 28, together with CB6I from Chile and LU6DK from Argentine. QSL for II4CPC via IQ4DJ (B), CB6I via CE6TRA (d). I, Italy: Numerous stations will be active between the 5th and 14th for the Italian Navy Coastal Radio Stations Award 2021. For more information see: https://www.qrz.com/db/II0IDP https://www.assoradiomarinai.it/coastal21/regolamento.pdf LY, Lithuania: LY11LY and LY31A celebrate Lithuania's independence during March. An award is also available. QSL for LY11LY via LY2QT. OE, Austria: During March, members of the VIC Amateur Radio Contest DX Club (4U1A) mark the World Meteorological Day (March 23) with the callsign C7A (World Meteorological Organization - WMO) on HF on all modes. QSL via UA3DX (d/B), ClubLog. OH, Finland: OF60RR draws attention to the 60th anniversary of the steel mill Rautaruukki. QRV until March 2022. QSL via bureau or via OH8DR (d). RA, Russia: During March and April, R1934G (RDA SM-02), R108M (RDA SM-22), RG61PP (RDA SM-07), and R1961G (RDA SM-01) celebrate Yuri Gagarin's 87th birthday and the 60th anniversary of his flight in space. QSL for R1961G via R3LA, RG61PP via RZ3LC, R1934G via R3LC, R108M via RK3LC. RA, Russia: R21BLIN celebrates the traditional Maslenitsa holiday in the Jaroslawl region until March 17. QSOs count towards RDA (YR-03), WCA (UA-00075, UA-00076, UA-00967), and COTA-RU (C-312, C-313, C-365) awards. QSL via RO3M. SP, Poland: During March, SP21DKS draws attention to the World Down Syndrome Day 2021 (March 21). QSL via SP3POB (d/B). VK9C, Cocos (Keeling) Islands: 10 members of the Northern Corridor Radio Group are going to pay a visit to Cocos Keeling Island (OC-003, WW Loc. NH87jt) from March 16 to 23 and operate holiday-style as VK9CE on 80-10m (FT8, CW, SSB), 6m depending on condx. Operators are Steve/VK6SJ, Wayne/VK6EH, Stu/VK6SSB, Gerald/VK6XI, Chris/VK6LOL, Brian/VK6BMA, Tim/VK6EI, Alex/VK6KCC, John/VK6NU, and Brian/VK6MIT. QSL via EB7DX, ClubLog, LoTW, and eQSL. VR, Hong Kong: The 1555th Kowloon Group (VR2CS) honours actor and martial arts fighter Bruce Lee until the end of January with the callsign VR2BLEE. An award is available as well. For QSL information see qrz.com. Preview: ======== C6, Bahamas: A team consisting of Duane/N4RRR, Jack/K4KSW, Terry/N4QBS, and Richard/NN2T plans to activate Bimini Islands (NA-048, WW Loc. FL05) as C6AHA between July 14 and 21 with up to 5 rigs on FT8, SSB, and CW. TG, Guatemala: Dwight/VE7BV plans to operate as TG9BBV during November on HF. QSL via VE7BV, LoTW, eQSL. 4X, Israel: Stations in Israel may mark their country's 73 years of independence with the prefix 4X73 and 4Z73 between April 14 and 17. This time period also includes the Holyland-Contest, for which more activities are expected. Abbreviations in this DXNL: =========================== ARLHS Amateur Radio Lighthouse Society COTA Castles on the Air IOTA Islands on the Air JCG Japan Century Guns LoTW Logbook of the World RDA Russian District Award OQRS Online QSL Request System WCA World Castles Award WLOTA World Lighthouse On The Air Award WMO World Meteorological Organization WRTC World Radiosport Team Championship Upcoming Contests: ================== 10./11.03. CWT Mini Contest 10.03. RSGB 80m Club 13./14.03. DIG QSO Party 13.03. AGCW-DL QRP Contest 13./14.03. Stew Perry Topband 13./14.03. EA PSK63 Contest 13./14.03. Tesla Memorial HF CW 14.03. FIRAC-Contest 14.03. YL-Aktivitaets-Party 14.03. UBA Spring Contest IOTA Compiled by Andreas, DK5ON ([email protected]) ==== IOTA QRGs CW: 28040 24920 21040 18098 14040 10114 7030 3530 kHz SSB: 28560 28460 24950 21260 18128 14260 7055 3760 kHz NA-102; FG, Guadeloupe: Philippe/F1DUZ operates as FG4KH from Guadeloupe between March 16 and April 1, including the CQ WW WPX SSB Contest. QSL via F1DUZ (d), LoTW, eQSL. OC-073; JD, Minami Torishima: Take/JG8NQJ returns to Minami Torishima on March 10 or 17 for another 3-month work stint. During his spare time he will sign JG8NQJ/JD1 (WW Loc. QL64xg, JCG-10007) on CW. QSL via JA8CJY (d) or JG8NQJ (B). WWFF Activities ================ WWFF QRGs: CW: 28044 24894 21044 18084 14044 10124 7024 3544 kHz SSB: 28444 24944 21244 18144 14244 7144 3744 kHz OZFF Spring Hunt 2021: The OZFF Group invites everyone to the OZFF Spring Hunt 2021 on March 13 between sunrise (0535z) and sunset (1713z). Everyone who manages to work at least 5 OZFF references will receive an award. For a list of participating stations, some located on islands, see: http://ozff.oz7aei.dk/ozff-spring-hunt-2021/ Calendar ======== start - end DX DXNL 21.01. - 21.03. 3W9FAR 2236 20.01. - 20.01.22 3Z90DZC 2235 1/21 - 05/21 5Z4/LA9PF 2230 01.01. - 31.12. 7S60BQ 2230 23.04. - 22.04. 8J17CALL 2198 01.04. - 31.03. 8J755T 2192 30.01. - 30.04.22 8N0J 2235 01.10. - 31.03. 8N1IZA 2229 01.01. - 31.12. 9A10FF 2236 - 02/22 9J2BG 2240* 15.03. - 26.03. A25RU 2240* 06.03. - 12.03. AM3DIM 2239 06.03. - 12.03. AM3YLD 2239 01.03. - 31.03. C7A 2240* 12.03. - 28.03. CB6I 2240* 01.01. - 31.12. CQ750RSI 2230 01.03. - 31.05. DA0FFR 2238 01.03. - 31.05. DB0FFR 2238 01.01. - 31.12. DB100AVUS 2230 01.01. - 31.12. DB59FIRAC 2230 01.02. - 30.04. DC220GERKE 2235 01.03. - 31.05. DF0FFR 2238 01.03. - 31.05. DK0FFR 2238 - 31.12. DK0HSC 2238 01.03. - 11.07. DL21EURO 2239 - 21.09. DL70THW 2217 01.01. - 31.12. DL70TRS 2230 01.07. - 30.06. DL73TXL 2204 01.03. - 31.05. DQ100JL 2238 - 17.04. DQ11WCA 2239 01.03. - 31.05. DR100JL 2238 01.01. - 31.12. DR165TESLA 2230 01.01. - 31.12. DR50AGCW 2231 01.11. - 30.09. DR5THBT 2222 01.01. - 31.12. DR60SZL 2230 01.02. - 31.01.22 DS4DRE/4 2235 01.03. - 17.10. D90EXPO 2238 01.01. - 31.12. EM150PLU 2233 01.09. - 31.03. EN100LT 2217 01.01. - 31.12. EN150PLU 2233 01.01. - 31.12. EO150PLU 2233 01.01. - 31.12. EO50FF 2231 16.03. - 01.04. FG4KH 2240* 01.01. - 31.12. GB0LMR 2234 16.03. - 18.03. GB0SP 2240* 14.02. - 13.03. GB1COC 2237 01.01. - 31.12. GB1OOH 2234 04.03. - 18.03. GB2CR 2239 01.01. - 31.12. GB75ISWL 2234 05.02. - 04.02.22 GB80ATC 2235 01.03. - 31.03. GX4BJC/a 2238 09.05. - 08.05. HB15SOTA 2198/2204 01.01. - 31.12. HB40POLICE 2230 05.03. - 15.03. HC1MD/2 2240* 01.09. - 31.08. HF100HCH 2215 01.01. - 31.12. HF100LEM 2234 01.01. - 31.12. HF30ZIR 2235 - 04/21 HK3JCL 2212/2228 01.01. - 31.12. II0MMI 2230 28.02. - 30.06. II0QSE 2238 01.12. - 31.12. II1DCC 2226 01.01. - 31.12. II1MMI 2230 01.01. - 31.12. II2MMI 2230 12.03. - 28.03. II4CPC 2240* 01.03. - 31.03. II4RDF 2238 01.01. - 31.12. II7MMI 2230 01.01. - 31.12. II9MMI 2230 01.01. - 31.12. IO0MMI 2230 01.01. - 31.12. IO9MMI 2230 01.01. - 31.12. IR0MMI 2230 01.01. - 31.12. IR5MMI 2230 01.01. - 31.12. IR7MMI 2230 01.01. - 31.12. IR8MMI 2230 01.01. - 31.12. IR9MMI 2230 02.03. - 11.03. J68CN 2239 02.03. - 11.03. J68HZ 2239 02.03. - 11.03. J68PG 2239 10.03. - 06/21 JG8NQJ/JD1 2240* 08.01. - 01.06. JW/LB2PG 2232 10/20 - 03/21 JX2US 2217 06/20 - 05/21 KG4MA 2200 26.02. - 02.04. KH9/NL7RR 2238 25.02. - 03.04. KT3Q/2 2238 01.01. - 31.12. L21RCA 2235 12.03. - 28.03. LU6DK 2240* 01.02. - 31.03. LX40DA 2235 01.09. - 31.12. LX40DA 2235 01.03. - 31.03. LY11LY 2240* 01.03. - 31.03. LY31A 2240* 04.01. - 31.12. LZ190FT 2233 01.03. - 31.03. LZ250KG 2238 02/21 - 03/21 MM0MOL/p 2235 01.03. - 31.03. MX1SWL/a 2238 01.02. - 31.10. OC200E 2234 01.01. - 30.09. OC200P 2234 01.03. - 30.11. OC200R 2234 01.04. - 31.12. OC200U 2234 01.01. - 31.12. OE100BL 2230 01.03. - 01.3.22 OF60RR 2240* 01.01. - 31.12. OH100SRAL 2230 01.02. - 31.03. OV0JUTLANDIA 2235 01.02. - 31.03. OV70JUT 2236 01.02. - 31.12. OZ50SOUND 2236 14.01. - 10.03. PC19HOPE 2232 - 04.04. PE75BORNE 2195 04.03. - 23.03. PJ2/DK5ON 2239 27.02. - 27.03. PJ7AA 2238 01.03. - 30.04. R108M 2240* 01.03. - 31.03. R125PR 2239 01.03. - 30.04. R1934G 2240* 01.03. - 30.04. R1961G 2240* 07.03. - 17.03. R21BLIN 2240* 01.03. - 30.04. RG61PP 2240* 25.12. - 30.05. RI01ANT 2227 30.09. - 06/21 S79VU 2165 01.01. - 31.12. SD400SU 2233 01.01. - 31.12. SF400B 2230 12.02. - 31.12. SK75AT 2237 19.02. - 05.02.22 SN0ZOSP 2239 19.02. - 05.02.22 SN100ZOSP 2239 01.03. - 31.03. SP1DKS 2240* 01.01. - 30.04. SQ0MORSE 2230 01.03. - 31.03. SZ1821R 2238 01.03. - 31.03. SZ21AD 2238 01.03. - 31.03. SZ21GK 2238 01.03. - 31.03. SZ21LB 2238 01.03. - 31.03. SZ21PF 2238 01.03. - 31.03. SZ21TK 2238 01.09. - 30.06. T6A 2160 01.09. - 30.06. T6AA 2160 30.01. - 20.03. TM1CCA 2234 01.01. - 30.06. TM8AA 2230 18.09. - TR8CA 1902 - 12/2023 TT8SN 2176 29.12. - 07.12. UP21HNY 2231 01.03. - 29.05. VI100AF 2238 19.02. - 30.06. VI2021PRIDE 2237 01.03. - 31.08. VK100AF 2238 16.03. - 23.03. VK9CE 2240* 12.02. - 31.01.22 VR2BLEE 2240* 01.01. - 31.12. 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abundantchewtoys · 5 years

Text

HS Epi Meat, p13 reaction

I suppose it is time for John's therapy session. :p It'd be interesting seeing Rose do real one, not one stuffed with jabs and such. Though, it would hardly be a private conversation on account of all the jelling involved.

Sad to say that there is no way out of there for them, apart from the preordained timeline, it seems. It'd be nice if they could stick it to Paradox Space one more time. But the house seems to be more isolated from canon in such an extreme manner, in barring even retcon powers from being used.

If John started talking about his feelings and how he came by it, though, in a way that would mirror the first hours he had those retcon powers. Adrift on his personal timeline (though it also included other people's), steerless.

Also, I hope from their subjective viewpoint, it isn't quadrillions years before the four of them resurface, obviously. In fact, I hope it's mere hours.

And that John may fix his glasses, or realize he doesn't need them any more, like Spider-Man.

"> Be John again.

It seems as if you’re attempting to be John again, with the expectation that we might spend a little more quality time with him in his cubicle of misery and self-loathing. You guessed we might really start to unpack his depression issues. Get to the bottom of all that. Well, nice try." ... Pfff, what, is the house barred from us viewing it? Why then did we see the start of their captivity? ... Is it because they weren't yet banished to the Furthest Ring?

Well, the good news is that if that's the case, we're in for a time skip. The bad news is that we're once again skipping a salacious bit of plot, but well, it's the epilogues, not the everything-logues. (And Homestuck was already not that keen on showcasing every little tidbit of conversation & interaction, anyway. Leave some for the fan artists, ey?)

"John can’t be here right now, because he’s stuck somewhere in the harrowing nexus between canon, post-canon, non-canon, outside canon, and fanon." Pfffff, ah, so he's so very unstuck his state has started following the uncertainty principle. :p

"He also can’t be here right now because, for the time being, we’re done wasting our breath on such a sad loser." yeah right.

"It’s well overdue for the true hero of this tale to take center stage.

> Be Vriska."PFFFF XD WHAT. No way. Vriska??? She's taking the POV?? Well, I hadn't expected that.

Guess we're being post-retcon Vriska, since that's the Vriska still intent on relevance at all cost. Also, apparently it's a Vriska that would hold John in disdain now, if the narration is to believed. Guess it is because he's been slacking off for seven years.

I suppose we'll be her some time right before she went to confront Lord English? Or, you know, it could be we're being her as she's stuck in a stalemate with him, as the Furthest Ring is sucked into the Black Hole around them. Just before the house spits out the kids. If they're really in a stalemate, that'd be a nice mirror to how Aradia was stuck holding Bec Noir back for a while, in the troll session after her ascension.

Though I wonder about the things the humans can do once they're out. They're not any more equipped to handle an adult Caliborn than before, eggsword not withstanding. Unless their stay in the house juju gave them all retcon powers or other. I can see them whisking away Vriska & Davepetasprite^2 & Aradia (if they're near), to regroup and create a new plan of attack.

Even though it'd be nice if they're already capable of handling LE, just imagine Vriska's reaction to her ultimate weapon failing. :D

So, ready for self-indulgent, self-agrandizing megalomaniac monologuing? I guess we are.

"Lord English stands before you in all his time-eating, universe-ending glory."IT IS TIME. TIME TO SEE HOW THIS SCENE CONTINUED. I'm psyched. I suppose there won't be any dialogue with LE, he's pretty much refrained from talking to anyone except the Handmaid. Though a "GIRL. YOU THERE. GIRL." wouldn't be out of place right about now.

"now you’re presiding over a whole host of ghosts ready to throw themselves once more into the maw of this final battle." Ah, right. The army wasn't entirely evaporated by LE, it stands to reason almost every ghost joined the army, so the ones sucked into the Black Hole were probably ex-members.

"You know that this isn’t your battle to win, but you are definitely the sign of the tide turning." Well, what do you know, for once she doesn't see herself as the main girl. Guess she thinks of the house juju then as the real 'winner'? Not Alternate Calliope?

"you deployed the white, house-shaped juju from the red chest. It grew to an enormous size, slammed down on whatever was passing for the floor in this esoteric battle environment, and a door materialized on its surface."OH RIIIIIIGHT. The door! I remember now. So that's gotta be the way out for the four, right? I suppose there's going to be some magic bullshit involved, where every kid sees a door inside their own separate room appearing, it leading out to the same exit location, namely right there in the dreambubbles. So, wait, I'm confused, didn't the door like face LE? Guess we'll just put it on Vriska "stealing" a peek of that viewpoint while being safely on the other side, using Thief of Light powers.

"You now stand off to the side looking especially pleased with yourself, waiting for the legendary weapon to unload itself toward the hulking tyrant." ... Ah. She thought she could just sit back and let whatever's inside do the dirty work for her. Guess she's about to be enormously let down. :p Also, confused at adult John.

"You’ve now got two bitches of either gender at your side: your main girl Meenah, who you stole from that embarrassing past version of yourself that you owned so hard you bet she’s probably /still/ crying. And Tavros. Not just any random ghost copy of Tavros, of which there appear to be thousands. Your Tavros, specifically, who’s been pathetically trailing after you like a lost barkbeast since you showed up." Ah yes. This is really the Vriska way of thinking about the world. For one, it isn't actually /her/ Tavros, since this is his pre-retcon ghost, the one that was once part of Tavrisprite. So, like, it's (Tavros). For another, Meenah wasn't stolen, she came willingly, nor did (Vriska) in the end remain crying.

... Hmm, so if Vriska assumed this Tavros to be hers, did she think she killed Tavros again? On account of creating GCATavrosprite, who was very unstable last she knew?

"It looks to you like the complete obliteration of space and time, the end of all things, the disintegration of literally thousands of ghosts." So... Yeah, they're sitting this one out and letting the ghosts keep LE at bay until the house juju finishes unloading.

"And no doubt your admirers out there would love it if you described it all in painstaking detail, but you’re not an executionist. You just call it like you see it, and what you’re seeing right now is pretty awesome." Sorry admirers! Vriska's not an executionist. An executioner, sometimes, but not the other thing.

"Kind of an overworked character design, you think to yourself. If someone showed you a drawing like this on their FLARP sheet you’d probably be obligated to immediately kick their ass." I'd like to have seen that, though. Vriska talking some sense into Caliborn about his OC. :p

"There’s a lot going on, from his vein-popping muscles to his eight-ball eyes to his pirate leg and his ostentatiously bright, gold pimp cane." Oh, right, the eyes were stuck in 8-ball mode! We assumed it had to do with him having become vulnerable, but that remains to be seen. And, uh, didn't Spades Slick have his cane last we knew? ... Hmm. Weird. Then again, during Collide we saw the weapon getting duplicated through Terezi and Dave's fraymotif, let's say it glitched something else too.

"MEENAH: im goin back fin MEENAH: you comin vris VRISKA: Of course!!!!!!!! VRISKA: But give me a minute. VRISKA: I want to SEE." Ah, okay, they were catching their breath, is more like it. So, is Vriska waiting to see the house unload, or is it like Blaperile thinks, she wants to see Meenah in action? If the latter, we'd get some insight into what she sees in the mini Condesce. Also, whether it has any foundations for a stable relationship at all.

Gotta say, I don't think we saw Vriska & Meenah use a fraymotif together yet. Maybe now would have been appropriate.

"This is what you always felt you were destined for, somehow. Standing at the end of the universe and seeing how it all goes down." I thought that was what Aradia always wanted though. :p She'd hate that, the thought of having that in common with Megido.

"Tavros is clinging to your arm like a little crybaby, while crying, you assume" Meanwhile, (Tavros) is probably thinking he's bonding, or something. :/

"You crane back your neck and:

> Watch Lord English put a crack in reality." Hmm, I think he might be trying to crack this part of the Furthest Ring same as before, though. Wait, yeah, if he does that, that's the cue for his circle being completed, and then the Black Hole will come through!

"You thought maybe he’d do something stupid, like punch the sky with his gross, throbbing muscle arm? But all it takes for him to shatter the roof of existence is a single, ear-splitting roar." Yeah, LE roars to crack through dimensions, it's Superboy that throws punches.

"Get smashed in the head?

It was so fast and dark you didn’t see it—the shard of space-time that split off from above and hurtled toward you. Your body rocks back, whiplash fast, and you nearly keel over. You’re still standing though, and laughing." Guess it's a good thing she's so high up on her god tiers, I suppose.

"That’s what you were doing when Lord English put a split in the fabric of reality. You were /laughing/, not crying. It doesn’t hurt at all." Pffff, okay then. It would've been a humane gesture, but she doesn't acknowledge she's capable of it so neither will I.

"TAVROS: vRISKA,,, aRE YOU OKAY?" Well, I don't think getting knocked in the head could've made her any MORE unhinged.

"Your eyes spin. All eight of them." ... Right, her eight pupils. That must be a freaky field of vision she has.

"It’s not a big deal though. Just a scratch. It’s fine fine F8NE." Well, a confrontation with the limits of her own immortality has been long overdue, after all see how long it took (Vriska) to come to terms with it! Leave it to Vriska to engage full Black Knight mode when she's injured. "It's just a flesh wound!"

"Why is broken space-time so sharp? Like splintered obsidian. Feels like it barely grazed you, and yet..." I don't suppose this could be weaponized AGAINST LE some how, right? Just saying, we already have Space & Time player in the backstage, waiting to go. And a fraymotif that perhaps failed to kill Bec Noir but might still be able to do something on a Time player.

"Everything around you begins to spin, and you’re not sure if... you can’t /quite/..." Wow. She's going to pass out and miss the house unloading? Didn't see that coming!

"the broken-glass sound of the ceiling of space splitting into hundreds of shards of potentiality." So the Furthest Ring is an inherent well of potential, like Skaia? Guess that it's due to all the aspects being interlocked out there.

"You wipe your bloody hand on the leg of your jeans and sneer with rage. You won’t go down so easily." Psyche! Guess she's just mad now. The gloves might be coming off. Will she try to steal his luck first?

"VRISKA: You’re so intolera8le! I... I need to........ VRISKA: Tavros, g-go. Find... f8nd Meen8h." This. I like seeing that moment when Vriska falters, and learning about all the ways she reacts to it.

"you’re distracted by something in the corner of your glasses. Your Trollian alert is blinking. There’s a message from Terezi." Pffffffff, wait what?? Talk about interrupting an important moment to check your mail! Wait, but, this is probably Terezi post-victory, right? 2 years into Vriska's subjective future? Oh wait, right, Terezi also sent her a message right before her Mindy thing, I almost forgot. If my theory is correct, then Terezi forced her ultimate self from coming together in that instant. I wonder if afterwards, she has some words for Vriska. Words of advice, or words of the heart, now she knows all about the Game Over timeline. They were supposed to have become moirails, but it didn't seem like either was doing too good of a job of it, before.

"You suddenly wonder if it’s been years from her perspective, waiting for you to respond, given how time moves differently out here. Were you too preoccupied with your incredible heroic exploits to notice?" Well, at least it provokes some reflection into Vriska, thinking about Terezi. I'm kind of reminded of someone checking their Gmail after not having logged in for years, only to find messages of old friends that were never answered. That's a special kind of embarassment, even if you are technically blameless for not responding in time.

"keep both feet planted firmly... whoops." Did the cracks reach her underfooting?

"You try to regain your footing, but you realize you aren’t in danger of falling over." Well, she CAN fly, as a god tier.

"You understand what’s happening. It’s the black hole."DUN DUN DUNNNN. Can't escape such a paranatural cataclysm on fairy wings. There's suddenly something more dangerous than the time mobster on the battlefield!

"Your hand goes wide and your fingers close around empty space as you reach impotently toward the glowing symbol of everything you ever believed you were meant for." Eeesh, could it be she's actually going to get sucked in before anyone can get to her?? It seems the kids are supposed to be LET out, they can't exit themselves. It reminds of how Karkat was reaching for the door just as Bec Noir entered their session, just a moment too slow.

"Another black shard of space-time hurtling through the void. It collides with your chest, right at the place where your ribcage connects, and sends you spiraling ever faster toward the deep, dark maw of infinity." ... She's been hit right about were her Light symbol is, isn't she? Where in the Game Over timeline, Terezi stabbed through her back out her chest. Guess you can't run from some circumstances in Paradox Space.

I wonder though, if this could be the end for post-retcon Vriska? Wouldn't have thought it possible before, but she's in dire straights. But then, what? Game Over Vriska finding a way to access her memories, having another go in her stead? She's dead though, somehow I think ghosts are exempt from reaching ultimate self awareness, no matter how much they have been seen changing outwards and inwards from when they were alive. ... Well, to be fair, John still has that ring on him, that he's bound to be giving to someone, it could just as well be (Vriska)!

"A black hole is something not even a god tier player can survive, you suspect. And even if one could, you highly doubt there’d be any clawing your way out of its event horizon and back into relevance. Not this time." ... That WOULD be a highly efficient way to get rid of Lord English, if we can be certain he can't blast his way out.

"finally you lose all sense of composure. You flail, spin, and flip in helpless little circles like a bloody rag doll, and you begin to scream." Wow.

"> JOHN: Emerge from the juju." Uhmm. They're going to be just too late, right? Guess Vriska and John never really got their synchronization in order, it was just the same way for their planned d8.

But, if Vriska wouldn't be around, how would they even know the slightest bit of what's going on here from first sight. Can't see Meenah or Tavros sharing valuable tactical information.

Maybe John will go zap her out of need first. ANYHOW. Guess we're finally doing this!

"The first thing you hear is a tiny scream getting sucked into oblivion. The voice is familiar" ... Wow. That's. A harsh way to go for anyone. Guess Vriska managed to put all the pieces in place, though At the Price of Oblivion. Unless it's a dreambubble ghost he hears instead, this is Exit Vriska. I do wonder if even her memories can be saved from the black hole.

"It’s not just a crack in your ears. This crack goes all the way down your spine. You almost don’t react to it because it’s so familiar. Around you, a cacophony rises up like steam." Oh boy, are they under attack, or is the crack just the previous one LE started, further moving underneath their current footing?

"DAVE: oh shit DAVE: its really popping off out here" Well, that's one way to put it. :P Guess it might be time to, uh, "drop it like it's hot while the pimp's in the crib", Dave. Okay, and maybe John just has crack-fatigueness from having heard it in his dreams so many times before.

"You can’t see anything but big, bright smears all along the horizon. You fish the two halves of your broken glasses out of your pocket and hold them up to your face." This is so unheroic, and yet I feel for John in this moment. Needing glasses really sucks on occasion.

"You can feel it now. The moment reality yawns too wide and snaps in half." Le moment supreme is nearing. Though, to be fair John, your reality has already split, into Meat and Candy. :P

Now, as for Vriska. I don't suppose her death, if she dies from the experience, would have her see resurrected elsewhere in the dreambubbles? I mean, okay, I guess it wouldn't really count as heroic, since it's more like a death from natural causes, no matter how unnatural they are in actuality. So that would mean she just gets resurrected over, and over, and over... Eesh.

Is it bad that I have 'Remember Me' from Disney's Coco stuck in my head now? Cause it's basically all Vriska ever wanted, to be remembered for her greatness.

#homestuck #upd8 #reaction #spoiler alert #homestuck epilogues #homestuck liveblog #vriska serket #at the price of oblivion

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psygull-arts · 5 months

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The entity known as "Indrid Cold," first sighted in the Point Pleasant area by Woodrow Derenberger on November 2, 1966

#alternate title: is that a disastrous bridge collapse in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?#indrid cold #cryptid #delta green #operation: silent mountain #technically this is mothman prophecies fanart. john keel's oc do not steal #artists on tumblr

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gumnut-logic · 5 years

Text

Never Have I Ever

Title: Never Have I Ever

Gentle & Warm Rain Series

Author: Gumnut

19 Apr 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: It was a very bad idea.

Word count: 1359

Spoilers & warnings: Scott/Em, Virgil/Kayo, John/Ridley, Gordon/Penny

Timeline: About seven or eight months after ‘Gentle Rain’

Author’s note: For @soundspud72 who asked for number 11 on the OC question list – have they ever been arrested and why? regarding Em Harris. The answer is in the fic below. This was supposed to be shorter than it was, but Scott would not behave, so Em had to resort to other methods. I hope you enjoy it :D

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

This had been a very bad idea.

She couldn’t help but smile.

Gordon at least had the pool. One of those with the view to match the money that had been thrown at the building. Penny joined him...often.

Apparently, he liked doing that.

She didn’t mind at all.

Alan groaned when he walked in on them and spun on his heel and stalked out complaining.

Em ended up giggling.

But this idea? It was beyond giggling and well into hysteria.

Scott was conscious, but ramrod straight, controls all in place. She wanted to touch him, but she honestly wasn’t sure whether he would keel over or explode.

This was a very bad idea.

But then it had been Gordon’s after all.

“Your turn Em!” The aquanaut grinned at her.

“I think we should stop.”

“Aww, c’mon. Isn’t this what you wanted. They’re all relaxed.”

It was official. The Tracy boys had done everything.

She frantically attempted to think of something she hadn’t done that they hadn’t done.

A sigh. “Um....never have I ever...er...been arrested?” Surely, they hadn’t done that?

“Are you kidding me?” Gordon, glugged down some more drink. “That’s an easy one. Paris. The Louvre.”

What?

Scott raised his hand holding his glass. “Gordon.” As if that explained everything. He swallowed heavily.

Alan snorted, rolled and fell face first onto the carpet.

Gordon laughed. “Hey, bro. Time to take another drink. Remember the teddy bear at the fair?”

“Crap.” Alan grabbed his glass and toasted the air. “Gordon.” Apparently, it did explain everything.

“Lawn flamingo.” Virgil attempted to bring the drink to his mouth, but missed and threw it over his shoulder instead. “Oops.”

Em blinked.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m calling this game. Off to bed with the lot of you. I have the strongest feeling that I should have taken Grandma’s advice and gone to bed early myself.”

There were many a muttered groan, mostly of ‘Awww’ and her name, but the brothers mostly stumbled to their feet. Kayo had to drag Virgil off of Em. The man was heavy.

“What?” The aquanaut looked non-plussed. “What did I do?”

“Gordon, go look after your brother.” Scott’s voice was firm. He still hadn’t relaxed.

Em sighed, grabbed his arm and, activating her hoverjets, pulled him up. “C’mon, Commander, time for bed.”

“Em.” And suddenly she was in his arms.

“Flyboy, your blood alcohol content can be detected from space.”

“Space!” John’s voice echoed down the hallway.

“Not today, spaceman, you’d miss TB5 and end up on Mars.” Ridley was obviously being very patient.

“Not Mars. Wrong trejacktory.” A closing door shut off the rest of the mumbled maths that followed.

“I love you, Em.”

She was able to lead him to their rooms quite easily. He followed as if a little lost.

But she didn’t pull herself out of the hoverscoot. She kept herself mobile and waited for him to come to bed.

When he finally walked back in, he had toothpaste on his nose. Em couldn’t help but smile.

Grabbing a tissue, she hovered up and wiped off the offending substance and replaced it with a kiss. “Now, into bed.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted and did as she asked.

“Roll onto your stomach.”

He didn’t say anything, just groaned into his pillow.

By the time she was finished, he was asleep.

She kissed the nape of his neck. Now hopefully he could relax enough to enjoy himself.

If not, there were other methods.

Slipping out of her hoverscoot and onto the bed, she killed the light and darkness took over the room. Pushing onto her side, she let herself relax into the bed.

An arm snaked out and gently pulled her close.

“Love you.” He said it into her hair.

“Love you, too, Scott Tracy, now go to sleep.” She wrapped her arm over his.

“Uh-hmmm.” A soft snore.

She smiled and let herself drift.

-o-o-o-

FIN

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #em harris #scott/em #gentle rain

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