#Misty isn't hers by blood either
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
🕯️
They might relate to too many things.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Let’s talk Saurondriel Season 3: Predictions
The last episodes of Season 2 kicked off the “War of the Elves and Sauron” plot from Tolkien canon. The rings of power have been created, and Eregion has fallen. At the end of 2x08, we see the survivors from Eregion arriving at a hidden valley near the Misty Mountains: this will be Imladris (more known as Rivendell).
(Why is Gil-galad looking at them like that? Is this foreshadowing for something?)
What is most likely to happen in Season 3:
Forging of the One Ring;
Sauron conquest of Middle-earth begins;
Sauron finding the Nine ring-bearers, and creating the Nazgûl;
Sauron trying to get the Three Elven rings of power back;
"Days of Flight": Sauron tries to attack Lindon, and Rivendell is founded;
Sauron gets captured by Ar-Pharazôn at the end, or this will be only in Season 4 (Fall of Númenor).
1) The door isn't "shut". It's wide open, now.
If the blood binding hypothesis is correct (and I think it is, because Morgoth’s crown was the Chekhov's gun of Season 2) Sauron and Galadriel, now, have an open line of communication into each other’s minds and souls. And we already saw a preview of this in 2x08:
With them being bound together, Sauron doesn’t need to “tempt” Galadriel anymore (to be his queen): he’ll probably try to actually bring her to his side, this time. Or even act as servant to him, since he wants to bind the Elves to his will, too; and so trying to make Galadriel hand over the Three to him would make sense with Tolkien canon. Sauron probably transferred some of his powers into her, and all of this will most likely kick out Galadriel’s “magical arc” (“elf-witch”).
How will this play out? Probably dreams, visions and illusions, because, depending on where Galadriel will be (and I’m betting Rivendell and Lindon), he can’t actually go there himself, in the flesh.
Which leads me to the next point:
2) Will Sauron use another character to get into Galadriel's head, again?
In Season 2, we saw Sauron using Celebrimbor to get into Galadriel’s head, on two different occasions (2x02 and 2x08): "Are they not the seeds you planted?"
Elrond (2x02): There is no navigating it. The labyrinth is his. As long as you stay in it, you've already lost. He may well want you in Eregion... Galadriel (2x08): All this... was your design from the beginning.
Galadriel’s vision in 2x02 proved that Nenya doesn’t block Sauron’s interference (as many assume), and he pretty much confirms this in 2x08: the ring isn’t free from his influence and power (the same as in Tolkien canon).
This makes me wonder if he might use Elrond next season for his “evil theatrics”, because this gentle spirit has been acting kind of shady in 2x07 and 2x08, already. And this mystery box might transition to Season 3, and it would be more effective than any other character, really (Gil-galad, for instance). And Season 3 will be a major season for Elrond, too, as he will create Rivendell and become a Elf Lord of his own right.
2) What consequences will the wound from Morgoth’s crown have on Galadriel?
Sauron (2x08) : Galadriel, surely you of all Elves must understand that to find the light, we must first touch the darkness.
This wound will probably be similar to Frodo’s in “Lord of the Rings”, but worse, due to the blood binding. It will never actually heal, either, which means it will have eternal effects on Galadriel herself.
Galadriel: Sometimes to find the light, we must first touch the darkness. Halbrand/Mairon: What do you know of darkness? Galadriel and Halbrand/Mairon at Númenor forge (1x05)
This wound can’t possibly be ignored by the plot, and I think that the choice of having Galadriel all dressed in white after her healing is intentional, to mislead the audience into believing she emerged “victorious” and “all light” from her showdown with Sauron.
We can’t forget the red herring ending of Season 1, with Sauron arriving at Mordor, appearing victorious himself, as if he was taking over the place. This makes me believe it will be the other way around: I think we will see Galadriel struggling with the Darkness way harder than before, in Season 3 (embodied in her desire for Sauron and power).
A penitent: in her youth a leader in the rebellion against the Valar (the angelic guardians). At the end of the First Age she proudly refused forgiveness or permission to return [to Valinor]. She was pardoned because of her resistance to the final and overwhelming temptation to take the [One] Ring for herself. Tolkien, Letter 320
In Tolkien canon, Galadriel is only able to truly and finally resist Sauron when she refuses Frodo’s offer, and is pardoned by the Valar. That's her (true) last temptation. Thousands of years later. Which means, Saurondriel is far from over in “Rings of Power”. It has just begun.
First: Galadriel will have to face the truth about “Halbrand” and “Sauron” being the same, and that the "Halbrand" she fell in love with was, in fact, repentant Mairon (he was real). Only this can explain why she’s still pining after Mairon’s offer in 1x08 thousands of years later with Frodo (if she believed him to be just an illusion, she would probably have got over it, eventually).
However, since Galadriel will be probably spiral down into darkness in Season 3, actual Sauron will most likely be seductive and appealing to her.
Galadriel can’t “close the door” of her mind to Sauron on her own. She doesn’t know how. Her “elf-witch arc” hasn’t even begun, yet. Her magical arc will start on Season 3.
3) Gandalf the Mentor
Galadriel will need a mentor to help her with her new-found powers and keep her in the Light (and for her to be able to "close the door" later on) and the only character that can, truly, be up to this challenge is Gandalf. Not sure if this will happen in Season 3 or Season 4.
Both Sauron and Gandalf are Maiar, which means only Gandalf’s power can be a match for Sauron’s. Gandalf was sent to Middle-earth by the Valar to help the Free people fight against Sauron. However, and pretty much like Galadriel herself, he never actually faced him, working against him, indirectly.
Círdan also gives Gandalf his ring of power, Narya, at the start of the Third Age. In one draft is due to his good services to the Elves, but Tolkien never provided an actual explanation concerning what these “services” actually were. Helping Galadriel could offer an actual explanation.
This would explain why Gandalf has the absolute trust and friendship of the Elves (and of Galadriel, above all), why he became a member of the White Council and why Galadriel went to her only known confrontation with Sauron (in Tolkien canon) because of him.
4) Celeborn’s return?
I don’t think the showrunners should have Celeborn returning before Galadriel is able to actually “close the door” of her mind to Sauron, because (1) it would be kind of weird for Galadriel/Celeborn relationship, and (2) create a rabbit hole of problems for the narrative. And having this happening in Season 3 is a bit premature, and I think they are aware of this too.
It’s been established that Sauron is obsessed with Galadriel, to the point of possessiveness (if “blood binding theory” is correct), and he will remain so for thousands of years later. Meaning: having Celebrían conceived before the “door is closed” could truly mess with Tolkien’s genealogies because there is no way Sauron would allow that to happen without his interference (Half-Maia Celebrían, anyone?).
At this point, Celeborn has to return to Middle-earth alongside Glorfindel. It’s the only scenario that makes sense (and Sauron already talked about the Fall of Gondolin). In Tolkien canon, Glorfindel is sent back to Middle-earth by Manwë somewhere in the Second age (around the time Sauron forged the One ring), and as an emissary from the Valar. However, he only had any significant role to play in the story after the War of the Last Alliance (when Sauron is defeated). And since “Rings of Power” has already changed some of Tolkien’s timelines, they can have Glorfindel arrive at the very end of the Second Age instead, in Season 5 (the “epilogue” of the show).
There is no way Celeborn is alive, or being held captive anywhere, at this point. He has to be dead and in the Halls of Mandos “resurrecting” until he’s re-embodied later, and allowed to return to Middle-earth.
#saurondriel#haladriel#sauron x galadriel#galadriel x sauron#saurondriel speculation#Saurondriel season 3
132 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Entity: Spider plant thing
Pronouns? Gender doesn't apply to her, but the survivors and killers refer to her as she/her, and she doesn't really care. (She won't admit it, but it is growing on her).
Tired mom vibes, honestly. If she had a brain, she would have 24/7 migraines. Thank God she doesn't.
She technically has a physical form outside of the spider claws. I like to think she stays in the core or center of where the fog is and is just in a comatose state, kind of? Like in order for her to have control over the whole realm, she can't be in control of her physical form. She can only focus on one or the other.
She managed to learn almost every human language to better understand the survivors and killers. She still prefers to talk in her native tongue, tho.
The survivors are kept in a camp in one corner of the realm, far away from where the killers stay. The killers have their own areas, which are mini versions of their maps with a house of some kind if the map doesn't have one.
She has favorites and she has... unpreferred ones. The Trapper is on the second list. She doesn't like him. Or Freddy. She doesn't like Freddy either, but at least he feeds her well.
She gives gifts to those that do well, like cosmetics, charms, or even stuff from their worlds that can't be taken into trials.
She has serious rbf.
Has a phobia of Michael Myers. Myersphobia if you will.
She's hot. No, not sexy hot, she's really warm. The basements probably feel like saunas and smell very misty, like those fog machines.
Depending on how good certain people are, they'll be gifted with technology from their time, it would just be altered a little. For phones and consoles, the Entity made bootleg versions of apps/games, online games are only with fellow people in the realm. The only thing they have access to that's not from the fog is music, cause that's too bothersome to cover.
Despite being known as the Entity's least favorite, the Trapper's realm is the largest compared to the other's. The other's realms had to have some stuff removed from the map to be mini, but the Estate has all of its features from the maps, just smaller. Why? The Entity won't say. Maybe she doesn't dislike him as much as she says. He is the killer that's been there the longest.
It's always nighttime in the fog, making it hard to tell time. The fog does have seasons tho.
She once gave roller skates to the survivors and killers just to see what would happen. So many broken bones. Good meal, but too much cleanup. Only a select few kept their skates.
The ice skates were worse. Blood everywhere. Delicious, but omg she couldn't get the maps cleaned up in time between trials and everyone kept slipping on the blood, and holy shit, it was a blood bath. Not practical.
She's constantly experimenting with things to see what would make the trials more effective.
The Legion was one of her regrets. At this point, the survivors are just annoyed with them and not scared. She should've taken them when they were older.
She feels like it would be pleasant to have tea with Pyramid Head. Too bad she can't eat human food. Also, Michael hangs around PH from time to time.
Has never said a curse word, there isn't one in her native tongue. But she has internally said almost every curse word in every human language. Her favorites are the French ones.
She gets freaked out whenever anyone starts dating. Like, she cringes when it happens. She doesn't understand it and gags when there's pda.
She can change how her voice sounds to others, she tries to make it as creepy as she can for trials.
She used to punish friendly killers, but has since given up and realized it would just lead to a better meal next trial.
Somehow. Some fucking how. Michael just popped up behind the Entity's physical form and it almost killed her. She just sensed a disturbance in the core and just woke up, then turned around. And boom. He was there. Just watching. Staring. He can't hurt her, they both know that, but that fact did not ease any fear she had in that moment. She screamed. She's not proud of it, but she did scream.
Ghostface is a comfort person to her. For some reason. Maybe it's because he treats her as an equal. Or maybe it's cause he's one of the very, very few people who talk to her. Or maybe it's cause he feeds her well. Who knows. All she knows is that she likes spending time with him.
Aroace queen. Cause ew romance and ew sex. Just ew humans.
She likes ribbons or anything resembling ribbons. Why? She doesn't know, she just likes how they look.
Every human that enters the fog immediately gets their reproductive rights removed. Everyone is infertile cause the Entity does not want to deal with babies. Cause ew children.
She thinks it's interesting and weird that there are people that worship her. She would take them, but she has a feeling they would enjoy it too much. Freaky.
Is she a plant? Is she a spider? She's both. Spider plant. At least that's the closest description to what she is for humans.
She finds humans both adorable and disgusting.
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
So apparently there's actually Durge-specific narration for taking the Blood of Lathander without the crest (and thus triggering all the defense mechanisms).
Narrator: An ornate mace hovers before you, suspended in a shaft of brilliant light. A fist-sized piece of amber flecked with crimson is set in the handle, emitting a radiance all its own. [HISTORY - FAILED] This mace certainly has a very unusual design.
Reach into the light and take the mace.
Narrator: The glow around the mace sparkles with beautiful disaster. You recall all the measures meant to keep you from reaching this place. The brutal aches in your body yearn to take it, though you sense it will spell misfortune.
-----
Rakha HAS the crest and could take the mace safely if she wished, but I actually kind of really like this for her regardless.
We've already established pretty thoroughly that one of Rakha's greatest strengths is extrapolation. She was initially very curious about hearing about this special "blood" that the monastery kept locked away - because the Dark Urge in her always craves blood - but she is definitely easily able to make the leap that this is what those notes were talking about instead.
She also fully understands all the messages we've read indicating that anyone trying to take the mace without permission will trigger defenses that will flatten the place.
She also suddenly has a whole creche full of githyanki who hate her.
The connections seem pretty obvious, really. Take the mace, flatten the monastery, eliminate the angry gith.
(That it will be a triumph of chaos and death and deeply sate the beast in her brain is, of course, a side benefit. She would like to think that's not what's driving this decision... but she would be lying.)
Claim the mace and delight in its danger.
(LOL. Nobody liked that!)
The mace comes free with a sharp jerk from its moorings; she watches the dim snap through the Weave as it releases its hold on the artifact. The mace's handle feels oddly warm in her grip.
"What are you doing?!" she hears Wyll call from behind her - but it's muffled.
With rhythmic thunks, a piece of machinery switches on from somewhere underneath her. A forcefield sizzles into being, cutting her off from the others.
Powerful beams of light erupt from pillars around the room. The low thunks settle into a pulsing hum of energy. Rakha can feel the magic at work surging along her skin and through her blood.
A central beam of that pale light lances out through a portal at the end of the room - connecting into the dormant weapon Rakha saw on the monastery's roof.
Rakha can hear a new low whine added to the sudden cacophony as the weapon begins to realign itself, its mouth pointed downward into the stone of the monastery itself.
Narrator: Everything is in motion. All within these walls are doomed to destruction unless you act.
------
Hehehehe whoops. :D I literally didn't plan for Rakha to do this until this moment but it's kind of perfect. Simultaneously logical and batshit crazy which is basically Rakha's tagline.
We have four turns to figure out what to do here and get the fuck out. I gather from the state of play and a quick glance at Google that we can either destroy the pillars, disabling the weapon, or we can shoot out the power source for the forcefield, which is under the platform, and then make a run for it out the portal. (Rakha could also misty step or dimension door out of the forcefield but she doesn't have access to either of those.)
In the spirit of wanting Rakha to successfully continue her reign of chaos, we will have Wyll eldritch blast the power source for the forcefield and run.
This uh. Didn't work out so well the first time. Everyone got crushed because we need to get them not only out the portal but off the monastery building entirely before it explodes, and I lost a turn figuring out how to get Rakha out of the forcefield.
Second try!
Safe! Nope apparently this isn't far enough either. WTF.
[googles] OK apparently there's a different pathway out the front of the monastery that we should be taking instead?
Third try!
This time I managed to get Lae'zel and Wyll out and Rakha and Shadowheart got flattened.
I actually kind of like this as an end state, because Lae'zel is PISSED about the whole situation and and shouts about it as soon as the game is in a state to allow the cutscene. So it ends up reading like she dragged Rakha and Shadowheart's fried corpses back to camp, had Withers revive them, and then SCREAMED at them as soon as they woke up:
"TSK'VA! GITH M'ZATH'AK!" she bellows as Rakha blinks at her blearily, the resurrection magic slowly bleeding off her body. "Girtar'rac ne toruun! 'One theft consumes all'. Protocol four-hundred-two! Our greed reduced Creche Y'llek to rubble. Vlaakith, absolve my sin or skewer my heart! In each you might make me worthy!"
Rakha stares at her, utterly baffled by this anger, still dizzy from the resurrection and having trouble settling back into her body. "The creche has turned against us," she says bluntly. "Why should I care about them?"
"I care!" Lae'zel snarls. Rakha can hear the surge of pain under the words, the confused blend of loyalty and anger and despair. "Just because the zaith'isk failed, because Vlaakith has marked us, makes this no less of a tragedy. I do not expect you to mourn - but I will not tolerate your rejoicing either." She spits on the ground next to Rakha's feet. "Shka'keth. Next time, think twice before getting grabby with powerful relics in mysterious places."
She stalks off. Rakha looks after her with bewilderment. She is too confused even to feel the beast urge's satisfaction at all the death they have caused. She had thought, on some level, that Lae'zel too would see it as a killing with purpose. Lae'zel, after all, was betrayed by those people, by her entire race.
"I am not rejoicing," she mutters, though Lae'zel is now out of hearing range. "It was necessary."
"Was it?" Withers asks placidly at her side.
Rakha glares at him. "Do not test me, skeleton," she mutters. "I will yet find a way to end you as well."
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Let The Light in - Part 1
Chapter Summery - You have a discussion about your future patrolling with Tommy and meet your new patrol partner
Content - Mentions of canon typical violence, very brief mentions of suicide, recalling someone’s death, emotionally constipated reader<3, not proofread so probably spelling errors, shitty writing, use of ‘—‘ indicates timeskip, it’s either specified or not but use context clues to figure it idk, reader is not given any physical description and if I accidentally did please let me know I want to make my writing as including as possible, no use of yn but is called “hun” once.
Word Count - 2.6k
Jackson, the wonderful peaceful town, one that seems too good to be true. Nothing like your life for the past 20 years, filled with blood, havoc and destruction. A town you yourself have a hard time believing isn't a figment of your imagination, that maybe the knife wound you survived months ago really took you out and now your body’s rotting somewhere while your mind conjures a reality to help you find peace.
Or maybe you really did stumble upon Jackson a few months ago and you're lying in bed, covered in a warm feather duvet that the older women on your street had made you as a welcoming gift, only for a few weeks later for her to pass away in her bed. A death that is merciful and natural. Not one by getting ripped apart by infected, or shot through the skull by raiders, or even yourself. It was bizarre to see somebody live their full life, something not many achieve.
Yet that may be your fate, it's bold to assume that you will be able to spend the rest of your life here, whether you don't because you are exiled or it all comes crumbling down from raiders, infected, God knows what. But it's nice to think, not for too long though because your alarm is blaring in your fucking ear.
Yup this is definitely real
You rub your eyes and arch your back to stretch your spine out and groan, trying not to let the comfort of your pillow persuade you into spending the day in bed and leaving your duties unfulfilled. After sitting up and pushing the button on your alarm clock you start your morning tasks; brushing your hair and teeth, getting dressed and drinking a glass of water to remove the sticky feeling in your mouth that developed overnight.
You gather what you need for your patrol with Tommy, a man who welcomed you into this town (not before pointing a gun to your head first though) with a fair amount of kindness. More than you expected considering you were the one wandering their territory after specific warnings not to by the older couple you'd encountered several miles back.
Tying up your boots before slinging your backpack over your shoulder and stepping outside. The cold early morning summer air blankets you as you walk towards the gates to meet Tommy as you do twice a week, Tuesdays and Thursdays and your third patrol of the week you do with Jake on Saturday, despite your distaste for him which wouldn’t exist if he could pull his weight better instead of leaving you to do all of your heavy lifting; so you much prefer your patrols with Tommy, whom you see small-talking a guard while waiting for your arrival.
“Hey there thought you weren't coming.” He says with an unserious manner and a grin. “God I fuckin’ wish” You say deadpan, Tommy responding with a chuckle.
“Everything all good? I'm ready to head out.” You ask.
“Yup.” he states, handing you your rifle that you once regularly hauled around before being accepted into the community. “Thanks.” You say before being stopped by the sight of Dave, the man who primarily runs the stables bringing two horses to you.
“Hey guys.” The older man says to formally announce his presence, handing the respected leads to you. “Ah thanks bud you didn't have to bring ‘em for us” Says Tommy. “Well I was up, and if I wait around in this weather for too long my joints get stiff.” He says, shaking his head in discomfort.
“Oh? The old man got sore old man joints? Who woulda’ guessed?” Tommy says looking up at him and down playfully with a smile
“Oh fuck off you’re not too far behind me are ya, just wait till your kiddo starts crawlin’, your be looking just like me.” He smirks. “Oh tell me about it, Marias been counting the greys in my hair lately as a ‘calming activity’ she says it is before bed.”
“Oh trust me I know all about getting greys look at me” He laughs before continuing. “Well, I don't wanna keep you much longer, you still coming to the stables later hun?” He looks towards you.
“Uh-huh, sorry I wasn't there last night. I just got a bit caught up in some housework” You apologise.
“Don't worry about it, not tryna hound you were just wondering 'cause Ellie came around after dinner asking for Ya.”
Oh shit, you were supposed to meet her there. Fuck.
“Oh yeah- I- I'll tell her I'm sorry it completely slipped my mind”. You speak a bit mumbled while shuffling your feet in the small patches of weeds that you stand on.
With silence in the air after your sentence Dave walks away with a smile, leaving you and Tommy to mount your horses and head out.
————
“Bit of a chilly morning today huh?” Tommy declares, breaking the silence that's held you between for the first few minutes since you stepped out of the gates.
“It is, can't say I’m complaining though. This summer's heat has been kicking my ass.” You laugh. “Thank God for the running water y'all got because I sure as hell don't miss being all gross and sweaty from the heat.”
Tommy lets out a light chuckle in response then stays silent, uncharacteristically so. You take a glance towards him, he's looking at his horse's hooves with a solemn look on his face, watching as it takes each step forward and leaves a print in the grass as he walks.
“What?” You say. Tommy brings his head toward you. “Are you planning on bringing me out here and dumping me or something?” You joke attempting to lighten the mood but he still stays silent before he takes a deep breath. “I recognize that you do a lot, I do I-” He communicates before clearly trying to get his words in order. “Marias have been swamped lately, between taking care of the baby and helping manage the community”. He takes another breath before continuing. “What I'm tryna’ say is I'm not gonna be on patrols for the next few weeks to help Maria around.”
Oh, That’s not what you were expecting.
Tommy looks at you while you continue to stare at him in surprise so he takes your lack of verbal response as a cue to continue.
“My brother Joel, y’know the one who stopped in for a bit with Ellie this winter?” He continues to stare back at you in hopes of a response, but you just give him a hum and look forward toward the end of the trail you're reaching. “We’ve been talking about a job for him to do now that he and Ellie are all settled in and we agreed that patrols would be best for… his type of skill set.” He says while ending his sentence with a pause.
“So I’m gonna be patrolling with him, is what you're saying?” You ask, looking towards him.
“Yeah-I uh am. I trust you, you're one of our best and I don't worry ‘bout ya out there. My brother can take care of himself but I like to know he's with someone he doesn't have to supervise.” Tommy admits. “Plus I hope he won't be as much of a dick to yuh, 'cause you're a girl y’know? No offence.” He stutters out, attempting to backtrack.
“Um, none taken. I get what you're saying” You say a bit awkwardly, staying mute for a moment while trying to formulate your next sentence. “So when, this Thursday?” You ask, staying professional. At the end of the day, this is a job and despite Tommy and Maria's insistence on getting comfortable here, you remain stubborn in your ways. It is not easy for you to forget the strenuous life you had been living, at least not yet, you'll still keep your guard high.
Tommy's face morphs into an amalgamation of confusion. “Is that all?” He asks.
“I don't think it's my place to complain about my coworkers, and what am I gonna say Tommy” You huff. “No don't help your wife and child keep, doing patrols with me and tell your brother to go fuck yourself?”
“Well I fucking hope not.” Tommy says with a glare, clearly offended by the sudden spike in your attitude. “You sure seem to have an issue though.”
To be fair, you did come across as a bit harsh. Tommy looks at you a moment longer, probably waiting for a continuation of your apology that wasn't coming. “Alright then.” He grunts and kicks the side of his horse faster, bringing the animal to trot and walking in front of you, keeping physical distance between the two of you.
You’re not sure if you should make a formal apology to Tommy or stay silent, Tommy’s a fairly confrontational man but you know you couldn't give the apology that's warranted even if you tried. So staying as silent as possible for the rest of your patrol it is.
————
“Ellie?” You yell entering the stable, hay scrambling around your boots as you walk further looking for the girl.
“Back here!” You hear her voice yell from the back of the stable. You already know that she’s with her favourite horse Shimmer, despite her insistence that she doesn’t pick favourites her actions heavily contradict that.
“Shocker you're with your favourite.” You speak as you come into her view. “Shocker you didn't forget about me again.” She bites.
You raise your hands in surrender. “Fair enough I deserve that.” You admit. “I meant to apologise to you yesterday after my shift with Tommy but I felt a bit weird knocking on your now ya’know?”
“Why would you feel weird?” She inquires, to your surprise her demeanour wasn't accusatory, but confused.
“I'm going patrol with Joel tomorrow? I just figured meeting him for the first time whilst apologising to you wouldn't be the best impression when my life's gonna be in his hands tomorrow.” You answer.
“You’re going on patrol with Joel tomorrow?!” She exclaims. You’d been wrong about your assumption that she'd already known.
“Yeah we are.” You confess a bit awkwardly. “I figured he told you already.”
“No he hadn’t.” She says with a smirk. “I hope you two don’t kill each other.” Grinning even more with the added statement. Now you're the one to be confused, unsure of the meaning behind her sentence.
“You guys would just like, totally butt heads is all.” She clarifies with a smile still sitting on her face. “But no he didn't tell me, he doesn't tell me shit ever actually.”
“Oh… well do you think Shimmer needs any brushing?”
Ellie giggles at your obvious deflection from the conversation. “Sure I guess.” She says, not pressing you further on the matter. In all fairness you're not sure what else she could ask, that's about the extent of it all.
Just that you're going on patrol with Joel tomorrow.
————
“Hi.” You say pulling your hand out, waiting for it to be shaken.
“Hey, I'm Joel.” He says pulling his own hand out of its pocket and shaking yours.
“I’d introduce myself but I'm sure Tommy told you and gave you the rundown.” You say with a bit of a nervous chuckle tailing it.
“Oh-uh yeah, he has.” He says “My Ellie told me a bit ‘bout you too, she says you showed her how to pick out the horse's hooves?” He asks a bit awkwardly, but you can't be upset when you yourself have yet to master the polite small talk that's needed in a community like Jackson.
“Um yeah I did. I help around the stables a bit, I like horses.” You say matter-of-factly. “Sometimes I help around with the dogs too, but that's usually just meal prepping for them.”
“Oh yeah. I've seen dogs that eat as good as those guys but I guess kibble ain't available huh.” He says, referencing their diet of fresh meat and produce.
“Yeah not really.” You quip.
You both look at eachother, standing parallel, both with hands back in your pockets. You rock back and forth on your feet before speaking again. “Well uh- are you ready to hit the road.” You say, clearing your throat near the end.
“Yeah for sure I’ll grab the horses for us.” He raises his hand and points with his thumb toward the stables.
“Okay.” You nod, watching him as he walks away.
————
The ride to the power plant was silent, it didn't need much communication considering your jobs were fairly simple. The only mind Joel paid to you was the occasional glance he'd steal at you, probably from being uncomfortable and wary in your presence.
You ride side by side about a few thousand yards away from your destination, you embrace the ambiance and ride in comfortable silence while scanning your surroundings for any signs of trouble, while rounding the bended trail, you spot a pair of infected crouched over an object to your right.
“Joel.” You say just quiet enough for him to hear, more quiet than necessary. You’re sure that they wouldn’t be able to hear your call to Joel over their growling and the rustling of their frenzied movements still, you nod your head towards the sight of the infected as he takes a look.
“Stay here.” He grumbles while dismantling off his horse.
“No.” You get off your horse as well tying her next to the tree that Joel’s started a knot around for his horse. You see his glare at your face through your peripheral vision. “What?”
His mouth turns into a frown, his eyebrows collapse down towards the centre of his face. The line on his forehead becomes much more prominent while giving you a look to kill before walking away. You follow him towards the infected and pull your machete from its sheath and see that Joel has pulled his hatchet out of his.
With a brief moment of eye contact and understanding between each other you both bring your horses into a fast trot, drawing your weapons and preparing for the bloodshed. You ride toward the two and can't help but feel a rush of adrenaline, this is what you are good at, what you are equipped for. You were in your element, you felt alive.
As you reach the infected you take charge, movements fluid and precise you take down the infected. Joel stays behind and watches, silently as you execute the infected, him the other.
The moment of intensity quickly dies down as the two of you stay still with heaving chests before the silence is broken by Joel.
“Let’s go”
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x y/n#joel x reader#Spotify
39 notes
·
View notes
Note
This is random but do you have a list of Mulder/Scully fics that make you cry. Ideally I would like to be reduced to a blubbering puddle of tears. Your pinned post has been feeding my reading for days 🙏
Ohhhhhhhhhh-- what a challenge! I'm not a blubbery gal; but there are some undeniables, of course.
This is going to be a mess-ish without any real order, but here we go!
@melforbes's seaglass blue (AU marriage after Scully's terminal diagnosis ~ Redux II. Mulder takes her to the sea for their honeymoon.) It was at the best/worst time of my life thus far-- which isn't saying much because I've been extremely fortunate-- and I completely resonated with each and every one of Mulder's struggles.
Anything @enigmaticdrblockhead touches. Made a compilation here that @waiting-for-the-day kindly posted. Ascension guts me every time.
Just teared up the other day to @lokisgame's "Au where Scully never joined the fbi and works in the basement of the hospital (where the morgue is) and all the hospital refers to her as “Spooky Scully”. Mulder comes in as a terminal cancer patient and they somehow meet and fall in love."
Joyce's Revenant tore my heart out with the power of love: death and rot won't prevent Mulder's protective streak from saving Scully.
BONUS! I follow up Revenant with these light-hearted continuation fics (the last one is my favorite)--
AU/Ghost1/Mulder dies, good-naturedly haunts Scully as she solves X-Files--
1-- Gossamer | Story: "Ghost in Her Life (1/2)" by Joyce
2-- Gossamer | Story: "Ghost in Her Life (2/2)" by Joyce
AU/Ghost2/Scully assigned new partner/Mulder still solves X-Files w/ her--
1-- Gossamer | Story: "Ghost at Her Side, The (1/3)" by Joyce
2-- Gossamer | Story: "Ghost at Her Side, The (2/3)" by Joyce
3-- Gossamer | Story: "Ghost at Her Side, The (3/3)" by Joyce
AU/Ghost3/Halloween/Partner leaves her alone for holiday/Scully better at reading restless moods/banter/Mulder nervous, feels ghosts about/he wants to spook people/witnesses Teena’s living grave/mad being summoned by noob/resigned to help her w/ probs/he projects terror on bullies/kids get to touch his ghost form-- Gossamer | Story: "Ghost in the Dark, The" by Joyce.)
Mulder's desperation to get to his son's C-section birth in the beginning of Alcott's Exit tore at my heartstrings (all ends happily-- twice, in fact.)
And lots (and lots) of clone fics... because they either A. never end well or B. are about common humanity despite circumstances. However, as misty-eyed as some get me, The Other Man GOT me:
Jess Mabe's The Other Man (Gossamer, WBM)-- Mulder's blood work comes back a clone. The real Mulder had been imprisoned on a military base. He and Scully are only in time enough to save a barely stable man and give him a human death.
XSketch's Soledad Para Dos gave me many emotions (Will is readopted; but Scully dies soon after of cancer. Mulder clings to his son; but this birthday is the first by himself. It's touching.) Not to mention Wish, William-- Will tracks down his bio parents after Colonization, finding Scully caring for a brain-damaged Mulder by the beach. Father and son have meaningful conversations.
There are two fics I can't find right now (if anyone can remind me so I don't have to dumpster dive all night, that'd be great~):
Scully died while giving birth to her S8 son; and Skinner finds and brings Mulder back home, watching him as he grieves the loss, picks up the pieces, and becomes a well-adjusted father to his boy.
Mulder wasn't returned in TINH; and Scully remained immortal while her son aged and died. Her partner is returned after Will's death; and the two of them relive their son's life, marked everywhere by his search for his missing father. (Found it! Part 1: Gossamer | Story: "Age Cannot Wither" by ML 2: Gossamer | Story: "Nor Custom Stale" by ML)
...Ehhhhhhhhhhh, why not-- I'll throw in one that made me blubber in a good way: Jenna Tooms's Shooting Star is about Mulder being found 17 years later by TLG: holed up in a mental institution and guardianed by a surprisingly caring Krycek. Scully "his angel" swoops in and saves him, battling for her partner to bring him home to their son Ben/"Benji" despite his cognitive impairments. It's so, so, SO beautiful that I just reread all of it (again) rather recently and I'M NOT ASHAMED IT MADE MY LIPS QUIVER, OKAY. Clones are also in this story, as are second babies (one) and risky nanobyte procedures that Mulder "ditches" to try to get "himself" back. (Gossamer links: Shooting Star (1/4), Shooting Star (2/4), Shooting Star (3/4), Shooting Star (4/4).) She writes "cognitively impaired" Mulder SOOOOOOOOO well-- his "speech" is real and beautiful and flawlessly written. I'm not a thorough reader and I don't care to be-- but this fic? I eat up EVERY. WORD. WITH A DOZEN SPOONS.
These are all that stand out for now.... if I remember more, I'll reblog this post and type them in later~. :DDDD
Thank you so much for the ask~. If anyone else has curiosities, I'll be more than happy to answer them!
#asks#living-in-unreality#recs#xf fic#Fics that made me into a blubbering puddle of tears#fics#txf#x-files#the x files#xfiles#thanks for the ask!#good thing fics don't make me cry often! :DDDD#I combed through my collection to find these#don't get me wrong-- there's probably a clone or immortality fic somewhere that destroyed me#deaths do that too (especially after a long life lived)#buuuuuuuuuuuut there we go!#xf fanfic
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
...
Rui wakes up on his couch-bed as his alarm goes off. 7am. Time to start the walk to school.
When he wakes up, it's quiet. It's too quiet, silence hanging in the air like fog. It makes his legs freeze up with an anxious dread, like the way the cold, misty air outside pierces his skin and makes it difficult to walk.
He looks around the sidewalk.
He doesn't belong here.
...once he reaches the school, he walks into his homeroom class, as usual. He doesn't want to- the dread travels up from the stagnant place it took in his leaden legs and travels up the rest of his body.
Taking a deep breath in and entering the classroom, squeezing his eyes shut while he tries to tune out the short murmur of giggles and indecipherable comments that take place whenever he enters this classroom.
He doesn't belong here.
For some reason, it feels worse.
Why can't he tune it out?
Why can't he tune anything out? Not the commentary of the students or the lessons from the teacher, nothing. It's beginning to get to him, but he'll manage.
...
The bell rings. He stands up.
He walks straight down the hall to the stairs, and trudges up them. Something is gnawing at him, scratching out a hole in his chest, it feels. The trip up the stairs seems longer than usual. His legs are sore by the end of it.
He sits down on the rooftop's bench.
Something's different.
What is it?
What's different?
What is it, grating down his heart so dreadfully?
...
Mizuki's not here.
That's what it is. Mizuki isn't here.
He opens his phone to message them, only to find their number isn't saved anymore.
Oh.
They must have blocked him.
He sits, paralyzed.
He wasn't supposed to be up here.
He doesn't belong here.
Mizuki would be there any moment, and she wouldn't want to see him up here.
She wouldn't want to be around him, period.
...
He remains there for an undetermined amount of time, before he suddenly stands up and begins to run. Down the stairs. Through the halls. Being up there must have warped time. he hears the end bell ring and sees students pack up. He's still running.
Running, until he reaches his house. It has an eerie aura about it. he can't call it home, no matter how he tries to. It's not his home. He doesn't belong here.
He stares at the residence next to it. Nene's.
It's like moving through tar, but he drags his feet to her front door, and rings the bell.
Nene opens the door. Her lavender eyes are...blank. looking straight at him, devoid of emotion. Devoid of any surprise, or timidity, or cheer, or anything.
She stares at him for what feels like an eternity. Time stops. He stops breathing. His heart stops beating. His blood turns to ice.
She closes the door in his face.
He hears the lock turn.
a wordless rejection.
He doesn't have a place here, either.
He doesn't belong here.
He doesn't belong here.
He doesn't belong here.
.
.
.
He wakes up with a start.
He can't see through the darkness of the room, nor can he hear anything over the ringing in his ears and his heart pumping ice-cold blood. He can feel his chest moving, pressing against the shaking hand he's clutched to it.
He reaches for his phone.
He turns on the screen.
4:38 A.M.
It was a dream.
He drops the phone, allowing it to slide down his leg, off the couch and come to a quiet thud on the floor.
Dream or not, it's left him horribly agitated. The feeling of loneliness- less like a gnawing feeling now and more like something that rips at his heart, tearing him apart from the inside out.
He didn't want to be alone.
He couldn't stand it, or the thought of it, but he had no choice at the moment. He felt strangled. He couldn't speak if he wanted to.
The dream... thinking about it shook something deep within him, something that made his body want to tear itself apart, that made his limbs feel like those of an inanimate ragdoll, that made his head feel full of static, that made his stomach churn and tie itself in knots.
...!!
Hardly able to move, he stumbles out of bed and across his room, dragging his blanket with him as he drops to his knees and grabs onto the small garbage can next to the door and begins retching and sputtering.
He can't do this. He can't.
He can't stand to be alone.
But that's all he is, is alone.
And it feels like that's all he ever will be.
...
once he can move again, he stands up on shaky legs, trying to get his bearings.
He can't. His head is spinning.
He creeps over to a corner of his room, and situates himself in that spot, pulling his legs tight to his chest. Tighter. Tighter. Making his arms shake and go numb. Digging his nails into his knees.
The pitch-black darkness of his room, cut only by the moonlight barely making its meager way through the curtains, is thick and heavy. oppressive. suffocating.
He breathes it in, and it makes its way through his body, chilling him to his core.
And in that deafening, stuffy darkness, he begins to shed cold tears.
#rooftop whispers#// big angst don't read if you're not up for it#// minor tw for emeto and sh below the cut. it's very minor not at all in depth or detailed mentions
9 notes
·
View notes
Note
whats the worst thing youve ever done?
I've been staring at this question for just under an hour now.
There's a few things. No one here (or anyone, even) will ever hear a word of them. They're between me and my conscience.
But a story I will tell you...
This is a dingo. Notice his body shape. The long muzzle, the small eyes that are built for the desert sun, the straight back, the slim head, the wide ears, the white tail tip and white toes that hint of a purebred. I shoot these.
This is not a dingo. Don't mind the pelt--there's black dingos too, especially further south. No, look at his body shape. His muzzle is too short, his eyes are too big, his skull is too wide, he has a dip in his back. This isn't a dingo, but it's not a dog either. This is a hybrid. I shoot these.
This is a dog. Not at dingo at all. Through-and-through, a domestic dog. Not a hint of wild ancenstry.
I shoot those too.
I don't like it, but money is money, and meat is meat, and I can't have favourites.
This was about an hour’s drive from the nearest town. All of these animals got out here over generations of domestic breeds mating with the dingos. These are wild animals at this point, not pets. A pet would never get this far from town on his own.
I spoke to a stationhand and he’d said he’d seen cars out here, on rare occasions, and that he thinks someone was dumping dogs. I figured it was bullshit, figured no one would be that big of an arsehole to leave a dog out there to die, but I decided that I’d test that theory. I didn’t do any long-range shooting that day. I’d spot a dog, get as close as I could, and I’d whistle. Most stopped, looked at me with confusion, and I’d shoot them. Wild animals.
But the last hour of light in the day, I see this dog in the distance, and this one didn’t look like a dingo. Thick tail like Misty’s, flopped ears, some kinda bitzer but definitely a dog. For those of you that don’t know: erect ears is a dominant trait in dogs. Floppy ears is recessive. That means both parents have to have the gene. That means it’s almost a certainty this dog didn’t have dingo blood.
Which means this dog didn’t have wild ancestors. He wasn’t feral, and there’s only one way he could’ve gotten all the way out here.
I got this sick feeling in my stomach and repeated what I’d been doing. I whistle. His head shoots up, tail raised, and my stomach plummets when he wags his tail. I whistle again, he looks at me, and I raise my rifle the second he comes running toward me. Just in case.
He was a sweetheart. Rushing to me, head lowered and tail wagging, whining like I was some angel sent from the heavens to deliver him from this hellish place. He licked my boots, he didn’t jump up. Well-behaved. I lay my rifle against the rocks and he starts licking my hands, my arms, whining all the while, wheezing and sneezing and I’ve never seen a dog so happy except when I brought Misty back to Australia and picked her up after she spent ten days alone in a M*lbourne quarantine facility.
He rolls over. Neutered male. “Good boy,” I praised, and I rubbed his stomach. He never stopped wagging. “Good boy.”
I grab my rifle, shoulder it, and make the walk back to Matilda. The dog follows me all the while. We finally get back after maybe a half-hour of walking, and I go about making dinner. I’ve got some pork. I cook it for us, we have dinner outside, I let him lick my plate. I figure I’ve just got myself a new pet. I call him Bitz, because us Aussies aren’t very creative, and he’s a bitzer. I bring out my swag, I lie down for bed, and the dog lies next to me.
The next morning I wake up to a pain in my left foot, and there’s Bitz with a fire in his eyes, currently trying to eat my foot. I don’t mean this in a funny “haha nibble” way, I mean he had his jaws locked around my ankle, he’s thrashing and snarling, and he’s trying to maul me. I kick him away with my right foot, he stares at me for a second, bares his teeth, and then he lunges at me. We’re wrestling in the dirt, he’s biting my legs and if I weren’t wearing jeans his teeth would’ve ripped right through. I’m yelling at him to stop, he’s not stopping, and finally I kick him with the heel of my boot and he jumps back and starts whimpering.
We both catch our breath.
When he approaches me again, I’ve got my knife ready. This time he doesn’t bite. He keeps his head low, ears back, haunches dropped and tail thumping, and he licks my arms. His behaviour says he’s sorry, that he doesn’t know what got into him, that the bush changed him the same way it changed me.
It hits me like a brick.
Someone loved this dog, once. At one point in his life, this dog knew the touch of his person. He knew the flavour of good food he didn’t have to fight for, he knew the comfort of his human stroking his ears. He might’ve played fetch, or tug of war, and someone loved him enough to teach him how to walk at my side, keeping pace with me, and not leave it. His lead manners were better than Misty’s.
Someone loved this dog once, and then one day they just… didn’t.
So they brought him out here, to the middle of fucking nowhere, and condemned him to death. Snakebite, or disease, or the elements, or starvation, or dogger’s bullet. They brought him here, and took off his collar, and they left him somewhere on the track, and they got back in their car, and they drove off and never looked back. Did he chase the car? Pursue it until his paws bled? Did he just stand there and watch, certain that they’d return for him? How long did he sit on the track and wait for them to come back? How long did it take him to realise they never would?
And here he was now, walking at my side as if he hadn’t just attacked me and tried to rip my foot off. Tongue out, tail wagging, looking at me like I’m the one what raises the sun. But he’d bitten me, and I can’t trust him not to do it again. I can’t trust him not to attack me in my sleep. If he attacks someone else, they’ll kill him. And they probably won’t be as merciful about it as I would.
So I led him over to a tree, and I sat down on the log, and he sat next to me. I put my rifle down, and when the tears came he licked them away because that’s just what dogs do. They’re always so fucking trusting. You can leave them to die in the middle of the bush, and they’ll trust the first person they see because dogs have too much love in their hearts to hold grudges.
I stopped crying, and he laid back down, facing away from me because he trusted me, more than I trusted him. We watched the sunrise together, and his ears swivelled to me when he heard me load my rifle, but he didn’t turn to look at me. He leant his weight on my foot, and he laid down, and he closed his eyes, and I stroked his ears because he’s a good boy.
The worst thing I ever did was put a bullet in a dog that trusted me.
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
@lottieurl tagged me to share my unpopular opinions about 5 fandoms!
yellowjackets
love and light but i hate mistynat. like i know people shipped it before nat died but to me it really feels like the momentum started afterwards, surrounding the whole oh no misty accidentally killed the love of her life and she's so sad and it's fucked up and crazy too!!! which sure if that floats your boat go for it. but to me it feels a lot like just a justification for nat's sloppy and narratively unhelpful death. if i didn't feel this strongly about nat's death i might not care as much about mistynat. we all know i'm a natlottietravis girl and it just feels so much more!!!!!! like the narrative is connecting these three people and their actions are all rippling out to affect each other. every single thing natalie does in season 1 is motivated by travis, just like everything she does in 2 is either in opposition to or alignment with lottie. misty just doesn't fit in there at ALL for me. and is actually just a distraction. and i can live with it all unless season three is the Misty Is Sad About Killing Nat season. i will tap out if that's the case. also just overall season 2 was a flop and they better pull something MAGICAL out of their asses to get me to the place i was like pre-2.05
house of the dragon
my main hotd take is that daemon is essential to both the story AND to the existence of rhaenicent. you cannot have one without the other. rhaenyra is shaped by both daemon and alicent from childhood and is tied to them for the rest of her life. removing daemon from that equation or treating him as anything but a person that rhaenyra loves and needs is pointless and a complete misunderstanding of the show. christon sucks ass. alicent is a full on lesbian. larys also sucks ass and there's no juice between him and alicent it is simply creepery.
shadow and bone
i mean this probably isn't too unpopular for my followers but widely just like. darklina is forever and always what that series is about. mal is a useless waste of space who wants what is worst for alina. alina starkov should be allowed to kill and maim and drink aleksander's blood and have nasty insane sex!!!! the ending of ruin and rising is literally a death sentence for her and not in the murder-suicide way that i want!!!!!!!!!
succession
again like i know my mutuals will agree but. romangerri is literally the most important non-sibling dynamic in the entire show and roman's character is so much more more fleshed out and interesting with gerri involved. AND the same goes for gerri. those two are in LOVE love even if they will never know it. they have multiple shoes please esk moments like are you kidding me. roman ceo gerri chair would have been my ideal ending in a dream world
hacks
i hate jimmy and kayla. i like them separately but every time they are onscreen together the entire episode starts dragging and i have to slap myself to stay engaged. the weird sexual harrassment joke went on WAY too long but even outside of that i'm like paul. paul. i know you wrote yourself into the show but PLEASE
no pressure, but tagging @nicollekidman @alyswesthill @lottienat @sapphicscience @tennesseewillams and @hunterbiden and anyone else who wants an excuse to shit talk
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Good Girl Mari Needs To Happen
Mari from Yellowjackets is an interesting character. She's not considered one of the mains(Natalie, Misty, etc) She's more of a side character who isn't quite one of the big players.
Throughout season one she was a one-note mean girl. Season 2 added some depth to her, showing her crying, and even hugging Lottie in the finale of the season. In season one, Mari was actually mean to Lottie. Probably in all their one-on-one interactions.
I doubt Mari will ever respect Natalie as her leader. Mari adores Lottie, and it will be interesting to see how Mari interacts with Natalie in season three. Will Mari let her dislike for Natalie be known? The only two people Mari seems to sincerely like are Lottie and Akilah, so I am sure Mari doesn't like Natalie either.
Moving on.
Here's what I want to see for Mari's character in the future:
Good Girl Mari. That's what I want to see.
Season one had Lottie on a path to evil, but in between S1 and S2 that idea was clearly thrown out. Lottie in season 2 is more of a Jesus figure. The personality switch was jarring, and that evil wilderness queen build-up from S1 was all for nothing.
Mari, though. She's got noticeable character development going on. She's still a jerk, but becoming less of one. When she hugs Lottie in the S2 finale, Mari tells her she's glad she's okay. Sadly, Akilah being involved in the hug too lessened the impact. But still. That moment proved Mari can be good. And seeing these characters devolving into ruthless people who hunt their own friends, it would be nice to see a character who doesn't. Or no longer wants to.
I want that character to be Mari.
I saw a post on Reddit showing a girl post-rescue who might be Mari. I'm hoping it wasn't. Because it would be great if Mari turns out to be Pit Girl and that she refused to draw a card, which automatically made her into the ritual sacrifice. Perhaps could've refused because she no longer wanted to hunt and eat her friends anymore.
If the show does that with Mari, I would absolutely love it. Before Ben set the cabin on fire, he was the moral, compassionate member of the group. This show needs a new one. Badly. I want that person to be Mari. If the showrunners go that route, if they turn Mari into a person who wants the murderous cannibalism to stop, wants them all to stop being monsters, and wants everyone to make it home, that would be amazing.
It could be realistic character development too. Unlike the jarring personality switch we got with Lottie. How she was talking about spilling blood in season one, but is all goody-two shoes in season two.
A lot of people are betting that Mari is Pit Girl. Many are hoping that she is. If she is PG, I hope the show uses my "Good Mari refused to participate in the choose-a-sacrifice card game" idea.
I need to see this girl Mari go from cold-hearted bully to cannibalism-hating saint. I feel like this is the best way the showrunners could use her character. I don't want to see her character used any other way. Unfortunately, my idea is just an idea, and I'm not a Yellowjackets showrunner, so I highly doubt everything I detailed will happen. But it is what I want to see. And I do believe the YJ staff will miss out big time if they don't make Good Good Mari happen.
The potential is there. Mari went from hating Lottie to loving her. She became one of her most devoted follower's. Mari cried after Misty lashed out at her(a show of softness that might lead to benevolence). And Mari's possible hatred of Natalie being the leader might just make Mari eventually dislike the whole cannibalism thing and cult stuff. It might bring her on the path to benevolence, one where she finds a way to survive without killing and eating people. Ben might find a way to do that. Maybe Mari will join him and they will live together in that secret tree lair? Ben wanted that life with Natalie. Perhaps he will get it with Mari.
I'm aching to see Good Girl Mari team up with Ben.
Mari needs to become a main character in the teen timeline. We definitely don't see enough of her. And what I want to see is Good Girl Mari happen.
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
FTMWU: Dragon Babbies
Currently, a Tumblr only story in the Fly Through Universe, set a bit further along in the storyline.
They all had their deal with magic users.
Granted, few and far between- while Gotham attracts the bizarre and dangerous, most magic users, even malevolent, cited a lack of desire to call Gotham 'home.' The Paranormal and Supernatural, common tangents, of course- ghosts, both figurative and literal, hung around each corner, Batman himself used to be considered more myth than man, but magic, true, honest magic, often chose a different place than the city of Gotham. One might say that perhaps due to Jason Blood's own residency made most others wary, but one could say that it was probably also the traffic, pollution, hostility towards strangers via the locals, and general possessive hostility of Gotham that took the shape of a man dressed as a Bat that seemingly made most Magic took a look at Gotham, and run the other way.
But still some foolhardy people would come and try and take over Gotham. Or would assume that it would be alright to smuggle magical items via the Docks. Or laughed when others would mention Batman, citing impossibilities, ironically.
Overall, most Bats (and Birds) would agree that while they handled a bit of magic users, they weren't as readily handled as one would say, John Constantine.
So one could excuse when two got caught in the magical spell.
---
It was meant to be a slow night.
Bruce rolls his back, feeling his frustration grow. Beside him, Cass nudges his shoulder in solidarity, and he's positive that if he turned, he'll see the familiar cocked head of her own version of a masked grimace, a concession and frustration of the lack of action. On one hand, it's a relief, to not be in the midst of an outbreak or deterring a Rogue plot. On the other- both him and Cass had been on stakeout for the past two and half hours, and while, yes, he had been on stakeouts for far longer, the Intel said there was supposed to be an exchange happening tonight, which means that they were either played or been caught out.
Eventually, even he has to call it a wash, shifting his body in a way that Cass can easily tell- pack up, time to head home.
Just as they're stretching out their limbs, the coms crackle to life.
"Batman, Black Bat, report," Oracle's digitized voice comes in their ears. "Confirmation needed."
"Batman here, no injuries to confirm," he glances over to Cass, who merely clicks her comm three times. A-ok. "We're about to head back."
"Good," Oracle is blunt, in a way that's concerning him. Barbara isn't like this unless. "Red Robin and Robin got hit with a magic spell and are down for the night."
He feels his heart clench. "How bad?" He remembers how much Tim was looking to this night, of patrolling with Jenna. "She's growing up," he had admitted wistfully, watching an earlier training session with her and Damian, eyes a bit misty as she slammed a knee to Damian's solar plexus, attempting to maneuver herself into an upright triangle choke. "She's getting older, and- I guess I kind of miss…well." He shrugged, grin still a bit lopsided as Damian deftly grabbed her leg, throwing her across the training area. She landed on her feet with grace, rushing forward to attack Damian once again. "She's a busy young lady. I'm just glad we can patrol when we can."
He'd made a mental note to try and partner them up more- except now it seems that perhaps it wasn't the best plan, because they were both incapacitated.
It has to be bad, he deduces. If Oracle is radioing them to come home early, if it was bad enough to call the entire family- he knows Barbara, she probably called all of them back, especially if there's a rogue magician on the loose- they aren't prepared, not fully, and Blood or Zatanna will have to be called, or possibly Constantine...
"Just…" and there was a strangled cough. "You definitely want to get over here."
Both of them look at each other, and leap off the edge.
---
It was the fastest time they've arrived.
Tires squealing, Cass leaps effortlessly out of the still moving vehicle, bounding up to the small huddle on the main platform.
He moves as quickly as he can, moving faster as he sees Cass get to the platform and-stills.
Not for the first time, he sends a wordless prayer that it something- manageable. That his family was still whole and not-
He nearly barrels into Dick, who's half out of his costume, and there's a glint in his eye that makes him pause. He sees how Dick is valiantly attempting to keep his face neutral, although it's hard to see how much he's charmed by- something. He feels something in his chest loosen.
"What's wrong?" He asks, because while it's obviously not a serious emergency, it was an emergency. There's a reason Oracle called off patrol early.
"Just-" Dick bites his lip, and waves over to where there's an opening and- oh.
In the middle of the circle is what could only be a dragon, vibrating the floor with what Bruce can only classify as "purrs." They're a mixture of black scales with black fur running down it's spine, leading from a tuft on their curled tail to a mane curling around their head. Two onyx horns rise from the mane, curving yet pointed. Surprisingly, they don't have wings, and honestly look more mammalian than reptilian, with a rather rounded muzzle, and stout legs. They had a tuft of fur on their tail.
The dragon wasn't looking at any of the group, seemingly more invested in grooming the most disgruntled baby dragon Bruce's ever seen. Unlike the bigger dragon, who was probably the size of a leopard, the baby was probably the size of what Bruce assumes to be what a leopard cub was, and a bit round in the stomach, different from the older dragon's sleeker form. They were upturned onto their back, showing a tan underbelly as a long red-pink tongue carefully and continually groomed them, steam rising from where the tongue licked. Their coloring was a more muddy looking brown-black than the midnight black of the older dragon, and he didn't need to see the two green eyes glaring balefully from the baby dragon's face to put two and two together.
"Has Zatanna been called?" He sighs, as Tim deftly flips Jenna back over, running his tongue over the hair across her spine, an interesting ombre effect of black to her natural brown. Jenna lets out a yowl, very much displeased, and tries her best to escape the onslaught of grooming, but alas, all Tim has to do is place a gentle paw over her spine and continue to give her a tongue bath. He can practically hear the hearts in everyone's eyes at the display. Stephanie and Duke already had their phones out, taking as many shots as they could.
"She's a munchkin," he hears Jason murmur, sounds as enamoured as he did around fast cars and puppies. "She's a tiny, itty-bitty munchkin. She has baby fat. Goddamn this is so fucking cute."
"Precious Baby," Cass agrees, kneeling down. The older dragon gives her a quick glance, then right back to his grooming session. Cass smiles. "You look good."
The dragon flashes their teeth, as if giving Cass a toothy grin.
"This isn't permanent?" Bruce glances to Dick, because while, yes, it was very cute, he didn't want Tim and Jenna to stay like this forever.
"Yeah, Zatanna said it wasn't permanent, she'll call back later for a longer explanation though" Dick replies, more absent-minded as usual as he continues to gaze at the two dragons. "But it will take some time." He turns with a grin. "Something tells me Jenna is probably more pissed about this than Tim."
As he watches Tim continue to give happy clicking chirps and purrs over her growls and yowls, Bruce had to concede that Dick had a point.
15 notes
·
View notes
Note
He doesn't know he's going to do it until he already has her hand caught between his, fingers tangled together. He lifts her hand, so small but with an underlying strength that he admires greatly, and presses his lips to the back of it, a fleeting touch, barely there before it's gone.
That Pivotal Moment || Accepting The Sensitive suffer more; but they love more, and dream more. ~Augusto Cury
It genuinely never occurred to Beth to let him know that she was leaving town for a week or so, that she would be out of cell-service range. Once there was a time where she wouldn't leave the house without her brother. Nowadays, she lets Tony know if she's going to be gone a while when he isn't busy himself on a case or trapped on a ship for whatever unfathomable reason Gibbs cast him out. But she didn't call him. She didn't text him, either. If either of them wanted to look at the roots of why she hadn't, the surface layer says she takes the drive four times out of the year. It's muscle memory more than anything and not exactly taxing. A little deeper says she self isolates because she is a private person. She doesn't need anyone knowing that she wears sheer robes and worships under the trees to saints unveiled into their most primal aspects. And at the core? She can't imagine herself as being that important to anyone not bound to her by blood. She doesn't see herself as someone who could ever be important enough to be missed. And certainly not by someone like Spencer. Some part of her almost wonders how he knew to find her at the Seneca lake cabin but maybe he'll tell her and if not? She doesn't want to spoil the magic. She didn't hear him drive up, either, and because he's allowing himself to be so vulnerable, so sweet and chivalrous ~a knight from the Courtly Age~ she doesn't expect his team to come tramping into her sacred woods, trampling tender spring shoots and flowers underfoot and scaring the animals. Wordlessly she watches him sink into the loam and leaf layer of the wood and suddenly Spencer doesn't tower over her as he often does. His elegant hands catch one of hers with a strength that belies their slender grace. He has hands of air, square palms, long fingers, strong knuckles. He'd laugh if she told him that it comes to pass that he has excellent communication skills, a sharp analytical mind, and innate intellectual curiosity but that he often stands in his own way with doubts that creep in from the edges. The kiss...is over before it begins and leaves her with a certain misty feeling in her chest. Her free hand finds itself rising and getting lost in the thick tangle of his curls, maybe brushing a lock behind his ear. Maybe the pads of her fingers follow the shape of his scalp to cup the back of his head. She urges him to look up at her. There doesn't need to be words as she leans in and presses her brow to his. The tip of her nose to his. Her lips...all but touching. She breathes in his exhale, breathes out when he drags in his own air. Honi. Sharing sacred Ha between them, a greeting old before some of her islands were even formed. But then something changes, and her mouth settles on his, lips soft and cinnamon sweet...and twitching just a little. Clear signs she's nervous but curious to know if he'll kiss her back, maybe more properly this time.
#ifyoucatchacriminal#Only the Clockwork|Dr Spencer Reid#Magnet and Spring|Spencer and Beth#Pirouette in the Dark|Criminal Minds au#Upstate|New York
1 note
·
View note
Note
You wanna talk about sad thoughts?
Imagine this, After waiting for Mama to finish a trial while waiting in the lobby, Marigold sees her and Uncle Wright walk out with a funny-looking man in an orange shirt.
Mama tells her Uncle Wright will be watching her for a little while, while Mama takes care of something.
Flash forward to a few hours later, Wright goes to drop off Marigold at her office,
Everything is dark and stuff is all broken. And over by the window, Marigold sees Auntie Maya crying and Mama slumped over against the window.
...
Poor little thing runs over to Mia and starts shaking her shoulder
"Mama, wake up!" "We gotta go home now" "Mama?" "Get up, I wanna go home"
Sad and confused, she turns to Phoenix and asks
"Why won't Mama wake up 🥺"
Imagine having to explain to your boss' daughter that her mother is dead
But we don't have time for that because soon enough the police come and take Auntie Maya away
Poor 3 year old Marigold is just left there with Phoenix.
Sad and confused
Honestly, how do you tell ANY 3 year old that their parent just died??? Well, I've been digging into it, and the best way to handle it is to be honest with the kid and tell them what really happened, watered down of course and simplified to make it age-appropriate. Euphemisms generally aren't helpful. So, as painful and shocked as he is himself, Feenie pulls little Mari off to the side and tells her what happened. That her mother is dead. That somebody killed her.
Mari is still confused, as expected, but there isn't really much that Uncle Feenie can do when he's worried about Maya and has to prepare for trial. He'll tell Mari more about it later; he's sure that she has many questions, the worst of which may be one simple word--Why? Why did her mother have to die?
I don't think a three-year old would understand the "why" behind it all. She would understand death at it's simplest--a cessation of life. She can't talk to her mom anymore. Her mom simply isn't around.
She still doesn't understand it when she's sent to live with Aunt Morgan, and she's sad, but playing with Pearl helps cheer her up. And she still gets to see Aunt Maya and Uncle Feenie again, so she doesn't feel lonely. Maybe she's a little young yet, but Mari senses some icy vibes from Aunt Morgan, like it seems like Aunt Morgan is displeased with her at every turn, like she's slightly bitter about something.
Which leads me to this: considering that Mari is Mia's child, she's got the blood of the current Kurain master (Misty) in her. So maybe Morgan realizes that wiping out only Maya in her grand plan is not enough. She's gotta wipe clean the last of Misty's descendants from the face of the Earth. And when she sees that even Mari has spiritual power, she knows what she must do.
But do you really think that Morgan would go as far as to murder a little child? The same age as her youngest daughter??? Maybe she would urge Dahlia to make it look like an accident so she can alleviate some of the guilt. Because if she lets Mari get away and only Maya dies, Mari could always be set to become the next Master (even if that doesn't happen for years). But then maybe Godot listens in on Morgan's calls and realizes that both Maya and Mari are targets (at this point, he doesn't realize that Mari is his own daughter).
Then aa3 last trial plays out as it normally does. It just so happens that Dahlia was targeting Maya first then was planning to get Mari. Then Godot intervened and stopped it. Mari finds out about the whole plan and feels betrayed by her aunt and shocked by it all.
Btw where do Pearl and Mari stay after Morgan was sent to jail again? I got this vibe that they stayed with Maya and hung around either in the Kurain channeling school or Uncle Feenie's office.
(Imagine that Mia had a secret box hidden somewhere in her office with a gold locket decorated with a picture of a red and gold marigold on the front in slick enamel. She intended it to be a gift to Marigold as she got older. And inside the locket is a picture of Mia holding Marigold. Mia kept this small box with her everywhere to remind herself of her beautiful daughter. It echoes Misty carrying a picture of her daughters around with her.)
#marigold estella fey#marigold fey#pheonix wright#godot#prosecutor godot#godot ace attorney#ace attorney#ace attorney oc#mia fey#maya fey#morgan fey#dahlia hawthorne#the fey family#oreocookiezzz#asks#lady k answers#misty fey
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thoughts on Yellowjackets 2x9
if you're here specifically to learn how this season is going to impact my fanfic, feel free to stick around! spoilers start after the cut-off.
So, that was a wild ride! I just wanna say before I get into my thoughts that from here on out unless otherwise specified/stated, my Yellowjackets fics will all be part of an alternate cannon where all the girls stayed a lot closer and had a lot more therapy after the wilderness because let's be real that would have solved so many of our current problems. they still have some fucked shit to deal with, but it's not as bad as it is in actual cannon because our cannon is making me so sad.
but anyways! thoughts and spoilers for the season 2 final start now!
Gotta say I was loving it till we got to the hunt. Though I absolutely didn't want it and knew someone would die, I was convinced either Natalie, Van, or Lisa. logically, those just made the most sense to me, so I wasn't surprised when it was Natalie. However, Misty????? You really had to do that to her, again. I'm horrified to see what's going to become of her in season 3. and Natalie's arch through this season is so heartbreaking. She was finally making progress! she was forgiving, working so hard to better herself and she was feeling better. after over 25 years of being on the downhill, she was finally finding her way up, only to be killed to further traumatize Misty.
However, I do know though that it's very likely Natalie was our victim because Juliette Lewis has been actively talking about getting back into film and tv takes a lot of time, especially for a main character, so they had to find some way to write her off. We don't know when this choice was made, so Natalie's rather strange arch was either a victim of a spur-of-the-moment change, or it's just frustrating writing. had the plan always been from the start of the season to kill Natalie, I'd be even more disappointed than I am because she had a really good setup for development! She was really starting to heal, and having the plan from the start be her death felt like a waste of all that development.
I really don't have much more to say about Natalie if I'm honest because I'd like to wait for more explanation on the creative choices made and if Juliette really did ask to be written off, but I have so much to say about Misty, because holy shit, what have they done.
Misty is already so broken. having her kill Natalie with her hand isn't going to change her character. this isn't going to result in any positive development for her. it's literally just going to crush her. Misty killing Natalie is 100% a callback to Christen/Chrystal and I think we all know that, but the issue is that there is no growth between those two events. it would be one thing if Misty had felt no remorse for Christen/Chrystal back when she died only to kill Natalie and really realize what she's done and is capable of, but she did know and she cared.
They took the time to show it in 2x7 when she has to step away from Shauna, blood on her hands to sob and cry because she knows she did something wrong. At that moment, she realizes everything she's done wrong, and she is fully at her lowest. She beats herself up, cursing her hand because she's fully realized the situation they're all in is, in fact, her fault. I think the only way Natalie's death could have any "positive" impact on her growth would have been had she not had that meltdown in 2x7. Had she stayed completely focused and diligent, more concerned with keeping the truth behind Christen/Chrystal's death than thinking about her fault or blaming herself, then she could have had that breakthrough as an adult after Natalie dies. At this point, Natali's death is only going to force her down under the water more than she already is.
I think all this is going to do is have Misty drastically pull away from her friends. Misty is a caretaker. No matter how unconventional her methods may be, ultimately that's the role that she plays, or at least tries to play. She puts others' concerns and needs above her own and goes to any extreme that she needs to because her friends are her priority and she thinks they're worth taking that extreme action if it means they're safe.
But, try as she might, her friends still die, and she keeps finding herself at the helm of those deaths, but not on purpose. She repeatedly finds herself with a hand around her wrist, forcing her to push the big red self-district button flashing in front of her. But she ignores the hand that's forcing her. She eliminates the middleman and decided those tragedies are her fault. because she is there and trying to help, any harm is ultimately a result of her failure. And a lot of her more drastic actions are extremely logical, literal, and calculated to her. In her mind, they're completely foolproof, so when they fail it's directly because of her. (Personally, I think an argument could easily be made that she's autistic, but that's for another post. If anyone is interested please let me know! I'd love to talk about it).
In season 3, we're going to see a whole new side of Misty that I don't think I ever wanted to think about. She's going to be broken and a shell of herself, more so if Natalie had been killed in any other way. Had Lisa shot Natalie herself, sure there would have been some grief and self-blame, but not at the same level as this. She's going to completely retreat into herself, removing herself as much as she can because she feels everything is her fault, and Natalie's death is just the nail in the coffin driving that "fact" home for her. Our sweet, bubbly blond who is always readjusting her glasses, who loves her bird and is a proud citizen detective is gone, and I don't know how else they can move her story forward.
#◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ kay's at it again♡#yellowjackets#yellowjackets thoughts#yellowjackets final#yellowjackets 2x09#yellowjackets spoilers#misty quigley#natalie scatorccio
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 2: Scopin
Jackie cradled Cera in his arms as he and V hauled ass to the elevator. "Stay with me, chica." He whispered to her only to get a sigh along with a chuckle in pain for a response.
"Relajarse, Jackie. It's a flesh wound. I'm not dying." Cera chuckled against the pain, pulling herself closer to Jackie's neck. Never in a million years did she think fate would bring her back to him. But considering her circumstances, she was no less grateful.
"Best not, Miss." He couldn't help himself but flirt. Cera and he had history. An intense and deep history. "I lost you once before." He said a bit lower, V was so close. And although he had become close friends with the Nomad over the last six months, he wasn't completely sure he wanted him to know about Cera. Looking up from Cera, he could see V glaring at him. He should know better and keep himself in line. He was with Misty now, but Cera was back. "Best call Wakako on the holo." he instructed V. Who rolled his black eyes before calling Wakako.
"Ahem, V? How did it go? Our client is alive and well?" Wakako asked meanwhile, Jackie shifted his weight. Which only resulted in Cera sighing into his shoulder. Her hot breath causes goosebumps to rise on his skin. Too many sleepless nights. Too many memories began to float to the surface. Jackie turned his face away from her. He couldn't allow his emotions to get the better of him now.
"'Course she's alive and.." V paused, looking at the woman then at Jackie who vehemently shook his head. "well. That's what we agreed isn't it?" V had hoped his snappy attitude had shielded his pause of uncertainty from the fixer.
"Splendid! Your payment awaits you - ready to come and grab whenever you'd like. Even right away. But I guess home is the only place you wish to be now. The NCPD has surrounded Watson. The district is closed. If you are to make it past the cordon, you must move fast."
"Thanks for the heads up. Swing by to see you later." V hung up and looked at Jackie as the elevator doors opened. "NCPD is locking down Watson. We gotta hurry if we want to get her to Vik's." Jackie doubled timed his walk, coming upon V's car sooner than expected. Opening the rear door, Jackie placed Cera inside before getting in the driver's seat. V turned to her as she sat up straight in the seat. Putting his hand out, V offered it for her to shake. "I'm V."
"Cera." she said as she weakly shook his hand. V noted how rough her hand was. She was either a hard worker or a hard fighter. Jackie started the engine, determination painted across his face.
"You got a last name to go with that?" V smirked at her. Cera's hand went to her throat as she wiped some of the blood away. She hoped it would help, but it did not. The bright lights of Night City took her by surprise as they entered the main streets. She had grown accustomed to the dark night sky. It had been quite sometime since she had been back in Night City.
"Welles." she said matter-of-factly causing V to turn back to Jackie.
"Cousin of yours?" he asked though Jackie shook his head.
"No, wife." Glancing out of his peripheral view at V, who turned back to Jackie with shock written all over his face.
"I'm sorry.. Fuckin' what?!" V exclaimed. Another glint of silver caught Jackie's eye forcing him to look in the rearview mirror. The scavs were tailing them in a white van.
"Is that..? Ah, I fuckin' knew it! Van on our ass - tailin' us. Chingado, I don't like this, not one tiny bit." The van takes the inside on the opposite side of the road, "Scavs! Hijos de puta!" V leans out the passenger side window, pulling out his pistol as the back doors of the van open. Three scavs with semi-automatics start shooting toward the car. Instinct takes over. He wasn't gonna let anyone take her away again, this train of thought causes Jackie to weave in and out of traffic. Narrowly avoiding collision after collision. "Come on, V! Shoot!" V pops off a few good shots but makes no hits.
"Can't! Keep her steady!" V shouts at Jackie as he quickly attempts to reload. The lights of Night City blur. Cera reaches into the sides of her leather duster, pulling out three throwing knives from their sheathes attached to her hip.
Admist the chaos, managing to roll down her window, Cera leans out into the cool night air. Rain has begun to fall, stinging her face from how fast Jackie is driving. Her eyes glow blue, along with the cyberware on her throat, scanning the scavs in the back of the van. Narrowing her eyes; holding onto the inside of the car with her right hand, she throws all three knives out of her left.
Thunk, thunk, thunk! Jackie looks back quickly just before the van swerves down around a side street, bodies rolling out of the back. V looks over to see Cera hanging out of the car, reaching for the two knives on her other hip. "What the fuck are you doing?" He calls to her as the van reappears along side them.
"Got you, assholes!" Jackie calls out while V aims his weapon. Pulling the trigger, the bullet making a connection with the scavs skull before he can fully open the side door of the van. "Cera, aim for the driver!" Jackie calls out. Shortly after, he and V both hear a loud thunk. Her blade nestles itself in the hollow part of the driver's jugular. Crimson flourishes across the van's windshield in a spray pattern. The van swerves once more into V's car before crashing into a building. "Agh, sorry V. Scratched up your baby pretty bad."
Cera pulled herself back inside the car with a sigh. Looking up at the rearview mirror, she could see Jackie's green eyes staring at her with concern. Same old, Jaquito. Always worried about her safety before his own. It was his downfall, and made her worry immensely for his safety. Reaching behind her head, Cera undid the buckle of her mask, sighing in relief. The pressure on the underside of her chin was now lifted. She reached up to her throat, her cyberware glowed orange, flaring with heat. Glancing back at the rearview, she could see Jackie making glances back at her in between driving.
"It's okay." V remarked as he pulled himself back into the car. Running his long fingers through his short dirty blond hair, he sucked on the metal of one of his snake bite lip piercings. "Let's just focus on gettin' home." He looked in the back seat for a moment to see Cera wiping as much blood around her neck off as she could. Turning back forward, V lit a cigarette as they approached the cardon. "Fuckin' wonderful..."
"Chill, hermano. Let me handle this." Jackie reassured V as they came to a stop. A female NCPD officer approached the driver side window.
"Waston's on locked down til further notice. Necessary security measure." Her voice was sharp enough to cut glass.
"Officer, ma'am! Damn are we lucky we ran into you." his voice oozed with genuine sarcasm, Cera smirked at this. Jackie was no actor, that much she knew. So if he was gonna get V home and get her to a ripperdoc, he was going to need some help. She could tell by the body language of the NCPD officer, she wasn't just going to let just anyone through.
"Really..." sarcasm dripped from her cherry stained lips, "What's that makes me so special?" her eyes glowed red as she proceeded to look through the window and scan the people inside. Cera hoped that Jackie's bad acting would keep her preoccupied long enough for Cera to work her magic.
"A-a heart of gold? 'Cause only someone with a heart of gold could see how badly I need to get back to my girl." Jackie droned on as the NCPD officer looked in the backseat. Cera's eyes locked with the woman, causing her eyes to glow blue. Keeping the woman in her gaze, Cera broke through her firewalls with ease.
"Your girl?" She asked, confusion dripping from those kissable cherry lips. Meanwhile, she was completely unaware of Cera rewriting lines of code with her mind alone. Giving them the false clearance that would take the NCPD days if not weeks of sorting before they would discover that they were encrypted.
"Uh huh. Gonna be worried sick if I don't show. I mean, I'm trying to be a stand up guy. She giving me a chance, waiting." Cera would never admit that Jackie's words caused some amount of hurt. But what did she expect? She swore to be his wife, made a vow, wore a white dress then left without a trace. She wouldn't exactly be surprised if he had been seeing someone. Hell, even she had dated since she disappeared but it was always fleeting. It was simple, they weren't Jaquito. Focusing, Cera narrowed her eyes before releasing the NCPD officer from her snare who shook her head. Both her and Cera's eyes returning to normal.
"Let them through, but they're the last." she called to the other NCPD officers ahead. Wrapping her knuckles on the roof of the car, she smiled at Jackie, "Be on your way."
_____________________
Spanish to English Translations:
Relajarse - Relax
Chingado - Fuck
Hijos de puta - Sons of Bitches
Hermano - Brother
____________________
#Spotify#fanfiction#cyberpunk fanfic#adecentread#cyberpunk 2077#jackie x cera welles#jackie welles x oc
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
I posted 2,488 times in 2022
65 posts created (3%)
2,423 posts reblogged (97%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@lucky-numberme
@beesabuzzin
@blasphemous-lies-and-deceit
@m-e-w-666
@fairyschlongmother
I tagged 1,746 of my posts in 2022
Only 30% of my posts had no tags
#the magnus archives - 684 posts
#tma - 682 posts
#jonmartin - 329 posts
#jmart - 327 posts
#firefly verses - 219 posts
#jonathan sims - 137 posts
#martin blackwood - 103 posts
#spoilers - 53 posts
#crow caws - 42 posts
#teaholding - 41 posts
Longest Tag: 139 characters
#also i am very enamored of the one you shared the other day fairytales such as these thank you for fixing that moment in canon so perfectly
I sent 1 gift in 2022
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
I am on S4 of my TMA relisten and today as I was listening and baking and crying and this little detail just punched me right in the heart that escaped my notice the first time.
JON TRIES TO ASK HER FOR A CUP OF TEA BUT THEN HE FIZZLES AND GIVES IT UP AND HE SOUNDS SO ACHINGLY SAD. MARTIN ALWAYS BRINGS THE TEA BUT MARTIN ISN'T THERE. EVERYONE ELSE IS EITHER RESENTFUL OF HIM WAKING UP OR AT BEST WARY AND CAUTIOUS OF HIM AND THE FIRST THING HE WANTS IS TEA BUT REALLY MARTIN AND COMFORT BECAUSE TEA IS SYNONYMOUS WITH BOTH OF THOSE THINGS I'M CHEWING A HOLE IN THE FOUNDATION TO BURY MYSELF IN AND CRY FOREVER.
43 notes - Posted April 3, 2022
#4
Sometimes Saturday chillin results in Sunday yearnin and that's just how the cruel, cruel world works 😘
(ORIGINAL IDEA CREATED BY @lucky-numberme I JUST SLAPPED IT ON A MEME EHEHE)
74 notes - Posted May 15, 2022
#3
White Shores are Calling - A ghost story
White Shores are Calling (Read on AO3)
Once upon a time, high atop a lonely, misty cliffside beside the sea, sat a haunted house… The year is 1863 and ghosts are all the rage, but Head Butler Jonathan Sims of Magnus Manor does not believe in spiritualism, or ghost stories, or any of that trite hocus pocus. Until, that is, he finds himself inextricably tied up in the mysterious tale of Martin, the last lonely spirit remaining there. Though Jon, too, is facing the final curtain of mortal life, he will do whatever it takes to unravel the secrets of the house and free them both from its tethers before his own time runs out.
PRESENTING!! My work for the @podcastbigbang 2022! A Victorian Jmart ghost story with promo art and chapter illustrations by my dearest friends and absolutely incomparably talented artists @pocketsizedquasar and @grayscaleskies!! I could not have been more honored to work with this team and to cry about inconsequential mundane details about Victorian life and clothing with them! SO much love and heart went into this project and I truly hope you all enjoy! ; w ;
[ID: A drawing of Jon and Martin from the Magnus Archives. Jon is a thin Pakistani person with medium brown skin and long, curly, greying black hair pulled into a ponytail with a purple ribbon. He has a short beard, and heterochromia with one brown eye and one green. They are wearing a dark green tailcoat with gold eye buttons and are looking back over his shoulder with his back towards the viewer. They have white gloves and black pants, in one hand is a candle holder with a lit candle and the other holds a blood-stained handkerchief. They have a serious and stern expression looking back towards Martin. Martin is a fat Black and Filipino man with dark freckled skin and short, curly, reddish brown hair. He has small glitches on his skin, revealing the bones beneath his face. Fog flows off his skin, hair, and jacket. He is wearing a mauve waistcoat over a pale pink undershirt, a warm dark brown workman’s coat, and grey pants. He is looking over his shoulder back at Jon with a longing expression. Behind them both are stylized swirls of fog in shades of grey surrounded by grey mist and pale yellow light in the center of the image. Between the two is the text ‘White Shores are Calling’ in a swirly, handwriting font. Below, in bold, all capital letters font reads ‘By @ gentlemancrow with art by @ pocketsizedquasar and @grayscaleskies. End ID/]
84 notes - Posted May 4, 2022
#2
"Martin was only speaking out of trauma and self-worth issues and even in the most boring, utterly pedestrian of situations or universes, he and Jon still would have met, maybe disliked each other at first, quickly discovered it was only because of some kind of ridiculously silly misunderstanding or misinterpretation, fallen head over heels in love, and the blossom of their romance would have been unequivocally equally disgustingly sappy and beautiful blooming in adversity or mundanity" is a hill I will WILLINGLY BLISSFULLY INSISTENTLY die upon every single time FULL STOP.
971 notes - Posted March 8, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
WOW I can't believe it's been a whole year since Jon and Martin had the big climactic showdown with Elias, kissed, and pushed a button that just magically saved the world and made everything better INCREDIBLE.
1,768 notes - Posted March 25, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
#tumblr2022#year in review#my 2022 tumblr year in review#your tumblr year in review#Firefly verses#Long post#AKSJFHAKSJFhkas OK MY TAG FOR MY PARTNER WAS NOT NUMBER ONE BECAUSE OF TMA BRAINROT BUT I AM STILL DELIGHTED IT IS NUMBER 5 🤣#IT IS AMONGST THE BRAINROT#LUCKY BRAINROT EHEHE#ALSO THE SUNDAY YEARNIN POST IN MY TOP POSTS AJDHAKSJF#IMPECCABLE!!#Also White Shores making the list even though it is my LEAST visited fic is amazing too AKJSHFKA#SAHAR AND GRAY ART IS JUST THAT POWERFUL!!#ALL IN ALL I AM AMUSED 🤣
6 notes
·
View notes