#but the thing with jones is that she is that she never had emotions to begin with and also that she isnt entirely human

[giantkillerjack]

What up I'm married to a tall person who is basically Milo Thatch but agender, and uhhh, basically, yeah, everyone should be jealous and I LOVE MY CUTE TWINK NERD WIFE!!!!! 😤😤🥰🥰🥰❤❤❤👌👌

[contact-guy]

Part 7, the final comic in my SIGN OF THE FOUR chapter. (Part one), (part two), (part three), (part four), (part five), (part six).

The context for this conversation is: Holmes has had no work from Scotland Yard due to rumors about his and Watson's relationship. He responded to this with excessive cocaine use and then working himself unhealthy on the one case that came along; Mary Morstan's. Meanwhile, Watson befriended Mary, who is also gay, and realized that a lavender marriage with her could make him and Holmes safe, as well as granting her more freedom. Watson has not yet told Holmes of his decision.

(This is part of the Watsons sketchbook series!)

canon scene under the cut, which is achingly poignant in its own right:

“Well, and there is the end of our little drama,” I remarked, after we had set some time smoking in silence. “I fear that it may be the last investigation in which I shall have the chance of studying your methods. Miss Morstan has done me the honour to accept me as a husband in prospective.”

He gave a most dismal groan. “I feared as much,” said he. “I really cannot congratulate you.”

I was a little hurt. “Have you any reason to be dissatisfied with my choice?” I asked.

“Not at all. I think she is one of the most charming young ladies I ever met, and might have been most useful in such work as we have been doing. She had a decided genius that way: witness the way in which she preserved that Agra plan from all the other papers of her father. But love is an emotional thing, and whatever is emotional is opposed to that true cold reason which I place above all things. I should never marry myself, lest I bias my judgment.”

“I trust,” said I, laughing, “that my judgment may survive the ordeal. But you look weary.”

“Yes, the reaction is already upon me. I shall be as limp as a rag for a week.”

“Strange,” said I, “how terms of what in another man I should call laziness alternate with your fits of splendid energy and vigour.”

“Yes,” he answered, “there are in me the makings of a very fine loafer and also of a pretty spry sort of fellow. I often think of those lines of old Goethe,—

Schade dass die Natur nur einen Mensch aus Dir schuf, Denn zum würdigen Mann war und zum Schelmen der Stoff.

“By the way, à propos of this Norwood business, you see that they had, as I surmised, a confederate in the house, who could be none other than Lal Rao, the butler: so Jones actually has the undivided honour of having caught one fish in his great haul.”

“The division seems rather unfair,” I remarked. “You have done all the work in this business. I get a wife out of it, Jones gets the credit, pray what remains for you?”

“For me,” said Sherlock Holmes, “there still remains the cocaine-bottle.” And he stretched his long white hand up for it.

[shotmrmiller]

soulmate au part 1

john price x f!reader

wc: 1.2k

unedited, forgive my mistakes.

since you were born, your world has been grey. you never thought anything of it, until at school, they started teaching you colours. the only ones in the room that could see more than just different shades of grey, apart from the teacher, were identical twins.

weird.

you went home and asked your parents.

"we are born missing half of ourselves. we have a fated one, and when you meet them, your world will look the way it was meant to."

oh. but... "in class, there were twins that could see colour. what about them?"

they look surprised for a second until your dad softly explains. "in rare instances, the soulmate bond will be platonic. which makes sense in this case, because twins grow up with a connection regular people like us will never understand."

you nod and lower your gaze to look at your shoes. you wonder if the person meant for you is interested in junie b. jones books like you are.

-

in high school, you crush on this pretty girl— a cheerleader. her hair is long and beautiful, her face is small and round, and she's so kind. just your type.

but no colour stains your vision, so you burrow your emotions deep and mourn the loss of what could've been.

-

in college, one of your friends ask you if you've met your soulmate yet.

"no, not yet," you lament. what she says after freezes the blood in your veins.

"my mom knew someone whose soulmate was already dead before they had even been born," she comments while stabbing a grape tomato with her fork. "it was really tragic, because she'll never know what it's like to know a love that has no equal."

your heart is in your throat, and you find it hard to swallow the food in your mouth.

what if your soulmate is already dead? oh, god. you might just throw up. your friend doesn't seem to notice the change in your demeanor and continues to babble carelessly about how she knew someone that knew someone who's soulmate had turned out to be a murderer.

oh my fucking god.

you quickly run to the bathroom and throw up your lunch.

how cruel is the universe? to have no control over who is meant to be for you.

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and lean against the stall of the bathroom. you should've known that this soulmate business was too good to be true.

cupping your hands, you rinse the taste of bile out of your mouth before walking back to your friend who stayed in her seat.

"jesus, you look terrible, you alright?" she asks.

running your fingers through your hair, you huff. "i've certainly been better. just got a bit nauseous, nothing serious. maybe it's a stomach bug."

"oooh, you better not be pregnant! what of your dreams of working in the medical field?"

you giggle at her response. "that'd be impossible unless i'm the virgin mary."

she gapes comically then leans in and whispers, "you're lying! don't tell me you haven't dated anyone just because they weren't your soulmate."

you shrug, and keep your eyes fixed on your half-eaten plate of food. "i don't really wanna talk about it, if that's alright with you. besides, you've got bigger things to worry about, like the upcoming exam for mr. richardson."

slapping a hand to her forehead, she exclaims, "oh, shit! i totally forgot! shit!"

you watch her inhale the rest of her salad and toss her trash before waving goodbye and sprinting toward the library.

with a sigh, you look down at your food. grey. lifeless. shaking your head, you pick up your plate and toss it in the bin.

you decide to focus solely on your studies. you have dreams of being a doctor and pining after someone you haven't even met yet would only serve as a distraction.

--

your white coat grazes your calves as you walk toward your new patient. standing outside the room, you pick up the clipboard.

Price, John. 34, Active Military.

he's the head of the task force! god, you've only heard stories of them from the other medics on base who have met them, so to finally come face to face with the man, the myth, the legend? you wipe your clammy hands on the fabric of your scrubs and clear your throat.

be professional, be professional. he's just another patient, it's no big deal.

rapping your knuckles on the door, you wait a second before twisting the knob with a shaky hand. you nervously keep your eyes on the clipboard as you walk in.

"good morning, captain price."

"mornin', doc," he rumbles.

oh, his deep voice just might be the end of you.

"you don't sound all that happy to be here, captain," you tease while flipping through his medical history papers.

he lets out a low chuckle, and you squeeze your thighs together at the sound. delicious.

"nothin' personal, doc. just don't like bein' here, you understand."

lightly laughing at his joke, you finally steel your nerves and look up at him.

only to have your vision bleed in something you don't understand. is that colour? is this what colour looks like?

the clipboard drops, clattering to the floor. john— being the courteous gentleman that he is— quickly kneels to grab it and lifts his head as he hands it to you.

he freezes in place, the clipboard slipping from his hands as he stares at you.

you thickly swallow, and dumbly question, "do you...has your....colour? can you see colour?"

unblinking, john's eyes are fixated on you as he remains silent.

your eyes dart around to take in his features. his brightly-coloured eyes are framed by lines that hint at his age, his strong jaw adorned by a mutton-chop beard. his nose is specked with a beauty mark.

"what colour are your eyes, captain?" you softly ask.

he closes his mouth and takes in a sharp breath. "i've been told they're blue."

"blue," you smile. the eyes of your soulmate are blue.

but then, your delighted smile melts off your face, in horror.

there's a shiny band on his finger. he's married.

john price, your soulmate, is fucking married.

your vision distorts with the tears that threaten to spill and bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling. it feels like there are shards of glass in your lungs, cutting you open with each quivering breath you take. your pain is red-hot, searing under your skin, flowing through your veins like molten lead.

john knows exactly what you're looking at.

"love—" he starts but you cut him off swiftly.

"don't. you don't owe me anything, captain. uhm, but uh... maybe it's best that we switch your doctors, yeah? conflict of interest, and all that."

you all but run away, away from that room, from him.

how terribly unlucky.

you head towards your office, which is down the hall, and slam the door closed. only then, do you cry, and mourn what should've been.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One

“I need you to find out everything you can about him.”

“Well hello to you too.”

“I brought coffee,” Steve pushes the coffee cup across the desk at her.

“What happened to ‘one and done. Got it out of my system. Eddie Munson? Never even heard of him-’” Robin mimics in what is, unfortunately, quite an accurate caricature of Steve.

“Robin,” Steve hisses, “for the love of fucking god shut up and tell me you will help me find him.”

Robin looks at him, Eyebrows raised, her best 'who the fuck do you think you're speaking too’ look on her face.

“Fine, sorry, don’t shut the fuck up obviously-”

“Oh well, thank you so very much-” the sarcasm is actually palpable in the air.

“- just please!”

“Tell me why.”

“I can’t. I really can’t. I have no logical or meaningful or emotional or reasonable or ideological or – fucking – astrological reason for this.”

Robin sighs, Rubbing at the bridge of her nose, “thought you fucked him in the pool house?”

“I- I did.”

“What was that,” she points right in Steve’s face.

“What.”

“That,” she waves her hand, indicating Steve’s face. “Something happened.”

“Robin, please don’t make me.”

She just stares at him. For ages. For a millennia. Steve feels like his flesh melts of and he turns to bones and then to dust, just like the guy with the wrong cup out of the Indiana Jones movie.

“Okay, so I sucked him off and then jerked off into his mouth but after we…talked.”

“Talked?” Robin raises an eyebrow that could devastate universes.

“And cuddled,” Steve mumbles behind his coffee cup.

The second eyebrow lifts to join the first, “and you...liked it?”

“God no,” Steve snorts, “he’s got like one percent body fat, it was like cuddling a sack of small power tools.”

“Right...so you want to do it again because..?”

“I don’t know I just...I think it was a fluke. Lets go again. I’m sure I’ll hate it the second time.”

“What did you even talk about?”

“Dumb shit. He’s a dumb kid. Nothing worth repeating, now, Robin, please, for fucks sake-”

“He’s in a band, they’re playing on Friday at some dive bar-”

“How the fuck do you already know this-”

“Someone!” Robin cuts across him, clearly pissed off, “had to entertain Wayne Munson while you were off giving Eddie a ‘tour of the grounds’ with your dick.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry, Robbie. Uhm-”

“Tell me I’m the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you and buy me all my drinks on Friday night and I might consider calling us even.”

Part Three

[procrastiel]

My highlights from The Assembly:

Was John Taylor from Duran Duran your first ever crush? “Yes, he absolutely was.” Michael thought he was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, man or woman. And he tried to imitate his hairdo (didn’t work out though, because Michael’s hair is really curly and John’s is straight).

He’s not brave enough to go on Strictly because he thinks he’s not a good dancer.

How does it feel to be dating someone that is only 5 years older than your daughter? “Both of us were quite surprised when we got together, it wasn’t something we were looking for. I haven’t dated anyone who is much younger than me but you meet who you meet. We were both very aware how people might respond, and that it would be difficult and challenging, but ultimately we felt that it was worth it, because of how we felt about each other. And now we have two beautiful children together. We’re really, really happy. I am aware that I am a much older father, and it does worry me, and makes me concerned, and makes me sad thinking about the time that I won’t have with them. But if you find someone who brings you happiness and you make them happy you gotta go for that. So that’s what we decided to do, and I’m so happy we did because we have this wonderful family now.”

The next question (asked by the same girl) was: Who is the rudest celebrity? “Have you heard of a man called David Tennant? He was Doctor Who. Doctor rude! No he’s very nice. Someone will occur to me and I’ll let you know. (pause) Jennifer Laurence was very cheeky! She is very cheeky.”

How tall are you? “I’d like to be 5”11 but I’m closer to 5”10.”

He likes Dylan Thomas, even though he doesn’t understand all of his poetry.

He cries probably every day. And it’s totally fine to feel things deeply and get emotional about things.

His favourite Disney film is Moana. And that’s Mabli’s favourite movie at the moment, too. She watches it about twice a day.

He’s worried that AI will take his job away, and that it will change everything, not just actors and writers. And that by the time we will want to put a stop to certain things it’ll be too late.

His favourite food is Egg and chips. Only enhanced by ham.

He loves going by train.

If he could replace 2 people of the royal family he’d take away Andrew & Camilla and replace them with Joe Lycett & David Attenborough. Or Tom Jones as the Prince of Wales!

If he could play the Doctor or the Master, he’d like to play the Master and play opposite David Tennant as the Doctor.

His biggest fear is being alone. And it’s also what he worries about the most for other people.

Hot or cold? He does like winter and snow. ❄️

Walk us through the before, during and after of the kiss with David Tennant: reading the script he thought “that’s gonna be a big deal”. They didn’t really talk about it and just went for it. Everyone was quite moved by the scene, all the people around them, so they knew it had gone quite well. And now they never talk about it. (He said that last bit with a smile.)

5 OF THE INTERVIEWERS SANG HERE COMES THE SUN FOR HIM AND EVERYONE JOINED IN AT THE END 😍 Michael had tears in his eyes

[imaginesheaven]

Fem!Reader x TF 141 - Undercover Mission

It’s time to get out the badass playlist you have been saving to make you feel incredible while reading this ;)

Warnings: Badass reader and cursing

This particular mission is quite a pain in the ass. Especially for you. Laswell declared it as an undercover mission for you and one of the boys. But that evil woman did not tell you that you had to wear an incredible breathtaking dress to blend in.

No one on the base has ever seen you in different clothes than the usual cargo pants and shirts. The worst part? You have to walk in incredibly high heels through the whole base to the car that’s waiting for you.

“I swear to God I’m going to kill you, Laswell.”

John Price

With quite a grim face you walk through the base dolled up like never before in your whole life. To be honest it’s quite the confidence boost as all the tough men and women turn their heads to stare at you in disbelief.

Some of them run against walls or against each other not looking where they are actually going. A few of them let go of everything they have in their hands. Your absolutely horrific mood shoots up into the sky. Smiling you wink at little group of men as you walk past.

“Where is she? We need to get going”, John feels like he’s suffocating in his suit. Undercover missions are the worst if you have to wear formal clothes. “Keep cool, John. (Y/N) is a Lady. It takes time to get ready”, Laswell can see right through his poker face. The Captain is kind of nervous and the reason is for sure not the mission.

“Oh shit”, usually Kate is not the one to curse but she couldn’t help herself as she sees you coming closer. You looking incredibly breathtaking got a trail of lost men and women stumbling behind you like lost puppies. At least none of them is drooling.

For the first in forever John is at loss of words. He can feel how his ear tips start to get red and suddenly the collar of his button down gets tighter. How is he supposed to think straight when you are by his side looking like a literal goddess? This is going to be probably the hardest mission for him.

“(Y/N), you look absolutely gorgeous”, John tries to focus on your face even if the rest of your body is very distracting. “Just let get this over. I’m dying in this thing”, you let out a deep sigh hoping he can’t see the slight blush on your cheeks. The Captain is way too handsome in his suit.

His hand hovers over the small of your back guiding you to the cars. He doesn’t dare to touch your bare skin without your consent. What a gentleman, right? When you aren’t looking at him, Price throws death glares at the other soldiers to scare them away. They start to scramble away into different directions.

You are a Lady. You are his Lady.

“Have fun, kids. Don’t be back too late!”, Kate grins at them knowing exactly what she has done choosing the two of you for this undercover mission.

Simon Riley

You are in an incredibly bad mood as you stalk through the base with your high heels and backless dress. The stares from the other soldiers makes this whole situation worse. Your death glares keep them away yet they still keep hollering and catcalling. Not once in your entire life you have felt like this. A walking piece of meat.

Ghost has definitely the easier part since he has only to play your bodyguard. So, at least he is wearing normal clothes. He already knows how pissed you are going to be. This man prepares himself mentally for the fallout of your mood.  

“There she is. Grim as always”, Price comments the situation quite amused. They are used to your resting bitch face, but now you have written murder on your face. Your facial expression doesn’t dull your beauty at all. Simon is thankful to wear his usual mask, because his face is red as a tomato.

Usually Ghost knows how to contain all his emotions yet his body betrays him on all levels. His hands start to get incredibly sweaty not knowing how to compliment your looks without getting killed in the next second.  

“Hey, baby girl! Give me a smile that suits you much better!”, one of the soldiers yells stopping you dead in your walk. Something dark and dangerous twinkles in your eyes as you turn around slowly towards the man.

“Fucking hell, get her, Ghost, before she kills them”, Price orders needlessly because Simon is already on his way. Softly but with quite a grip he grabs your shoulders to guide you towards the car. You are actually not tossing and slashing at him, which makes his task rather easy, but you keep yelling out all the curse words you ever heard in your life.

“It’s okay. You will get your revenge when we get back from the mission”, Ghost knows how to soothe your raging soul with a few words. “Don’t you dare to break your promise”, you point your finger at him. A cocky smile on your lips stops his heart for a second.

“I literally don’t have a death wish, (Y/N)”, he closes the car door after you got into the vehicle. Of course, Simon looked away when the leg slit revealed way too much of your skin than he could take in this moment. Ghost takes a deep breath to calm himself and his racing heart down.

You are going to be the death of him.

John MacTavish

You are literally glowing wearing this dress with the matching high heels. Usually you are already overly confident, but now you are walking like you are owning this whole place. The soldiers on your way through the base don’t know what is actually hitting them. The mixture of the clothes and your confidence is incredibly hot.

No one dares to speak to you or do something stupid like catcalling or hollering. The soldiers are way too intimidated by your beauty. They know you are out of their league. You are otherworldly.

“Don’t make a fool out of yourself this time, Johnny”, Ghost stares at Soap as he nestles with his button up shirt. “You are never gonna drop that, right? It was one fucking time”, he gives Simon a goofy grin, but he returns it with his usual “you fucking serious?!”-glare.  

Both turn their head at the same time to see you walking straight towards them with an incredible smile on your lips. Johnny fights the urge to stare at you with a gaping mouth and eyes big as saucers.

A part of him works on auto-pilot as he holds his hand out for you. Happily, you take it and swirl around for him to see you from all sides. It takes just a second and Soap is back to his old self burying the gentleman thousand feet under, “Don’t tell me you got some nice weapons hiding underneath.”

Ghost rolls his eyes annoyed by his stupid words. You give him your sweetest smile as you pull him closer at the collar of his shirt. His lips are so close to yours now, “I don’t need weapons, Johnny. I am the weapon.” To emphasize your statement you wink at him, before you let go of him and get into the car without any help.

“I told you don’t make a fool out of yourself…”, Ghost shakes his head slowly disappointed, but Soap’s mind is way too far away to register his words. His heart still beats oddly painful against his chest riding through the high of almost kissing you. The smell of your perfume lingers in his noise lulling him into fantasizing about your lips on his.

“Get in the car, Johnny”, you bring him back from his little dream world. With burning cheeks and ears from embarrassment he runs around the car. He’s trying not to think too much about spending the next few hours so incredibly close to you playing your lover. He’s probably going to get a heart attack very soon…

Kyle Garrick

Not caring about all the soldiers staring your way you keep walking through the base. It’s a mission like every other… Just in very elegant clothes… And playing a young married rich couple in their honeymoon phase with Gaz by your side. Just another Monday in your books like always.

Gaz fumbles around with his tie feeling like this thing is going to choke him in the next few seconds. Nervousness is eating away at him. Undercover missions are always particular dangerous and this time it’s just him and you.

“Calm down, kiddo. You are going to be fine”, Price puts his heavy hand on Gaz’s shoulder in a calming gesture. For a second Gaz actually calms down his racing heart, but then you stop in front of them.

The way you are standing in front of him hands on your hips, which are perfectly wrapped up in this tight dress of yours. Kyle can’t help himself but stare at you. Sweat starts to pool on his forehead and in his clammy hands. Since when do you look like a goddess?

“You look absolutely beautiful, (Y/N)”, Price gives you a fatherly smile showing how proud he is of you. “Thank you, Cap”, you turn around to Gaz to see what he has to say. His eyes are not searching for yours. They are definitely locked on the target. Your chest.

“My eyes are up here, Gaz”, you cross your arms in front of your chest making the target even more prominent. “I-I-I wasn’t... I wasn’t staring! I swear”, Gaz stumbles over his own words with a burning face full of embarrassment and shame. He probably can never look at you ever again.

“Way to go, buddy, way to go”, Price looks at him deeply disappointed by his non-gentleman behavior. Unimpressed you raise an eyebrow waiting for a better excuse. Gaz raises his hands in surrender”, I didn’t mean to! I-I … They looked at me first!”

Realization slowly sinks in. Doomed by his own words he gets into the car without a further word. Gaz will probably jump in front of the first bullet he can find.

“Go easy on him. We don’t want a broken Gaz”, John can’t help himself but smile. You only shrug one of your shoulders, “Can’t promise anything, Cap.” Like the true gentleman he is he helps you into the car, “Have fun, kids.” It’s going to be a very long mission…

[leclerc-s]

big reputations - part five

series masterlist // previous // next

ASKING DANIEL RICCIARDO THE MOST POPULAR F1 FAN QUESTIONS

comments

user1 this interview further proves that max is daniel’s emotional support boyfriend.

↳ user2 was that ever up for debate?

↳ user1 no, but you get what i mean.

user3 oh, he’s got those stupid stars in his eyes again. this man is down bad.

user4 i love how he never brushes off questions about daphne. every single time he answers the questions about her

↳ user5 take notes joe alwyn. this is how you talk about mother daphne.

↳ user4 the shade towards joe. this fandom will never let him rest.

user6 these two are never beating the dating allegations.

↳ user7 i don't think they want to

↳ user6 oh for sure, these two want to know how far this whole thing is going to go

user8 even if they aren't dating it's such an adorable friendship

↳ user9 it'll be official when he meets ryan and blake. that's when you know they are actually dating.

↳ user8 or when she meets christian and max, oh wait.

↳ user9 that's actually a good point

user10 someone stop this man from being so down bad for daphne.

user11 i am loving that max is daphne and daniel's third wheel.

↳ user12 i'm living for max teasing daniel. you know this man does it constantly and never let's daniel rest

↳ user11 oh i know max has never given him a moment of peace.

george russell everyday i am reminded that daphne jones fans are a different breed.

lando norris i would ask why but i have been on twitter today. apparently dts is trending on netflix

alex albon charles, mate, you've got the daphne fans crying.

charles leclerc oh god, what did i do now?

fernando alonso season 1 episode 8 charles leclerc oh.

daniel ricciardo is that why we're trending? i thought old tweets of mine were found and i was getting cancelled

esteban ocon have you said things that’ll get you cancelled?

daniel ricciardo no, but it’s a genuine fear estie! max verstappen at the ‘girlies’ have joined in on our mutual hatred for zak (oscar and lando you saw nothing) oscar piastri never thought i would see the day max verstappen said ‘girlies’

yuki tsunoda added one person

yuki tsunoda speaking of daphne jones ARE YOU TWO DATING RICCIARDO??

george russell yuki who did you add??

unknown number hello, it's liam lawson. george russell oh cool.

daniel ricciardo i don't feel like i have to expose my personal life to you people. i already see you too much.

max verstappen stop being a pussy and ask her out.

daniel ricciardo how about you shut the fuck up for once?

charles leclerc in the words of arthur, 'uh oh, the girls are fighting'

logan sargeant arthur's chronically online so it doesn't surprise me that he knows what that is.

valtteri bottas have you asked her out daniel?

nico hülkenberg i have to admit this is the highlight of my year, have you done it yet ricciardo??

kevin magnussen yes, have you?

mark webber MAN UP RICCIARDO! FUCKING DO IT ALREADY!

jenson button no pressure or anything, but have you?

daniel ricciardo oh for fucks sake. i hate all of you.

liam lawson i'm so confused.

liam lawson i thought they were dating already? considering what ajdbfwei

max verstappen sorry, liam is currently out of commission.

george russell why is that so fucking threatening? what did you do verstappen?

max verstappen nothing. liam is just out of it for the next 20-30 minutes

sergio perez i have never seen max's body move so fast. i fear liam is unconscious.

carlos sainz what the hell is happening?

daniel ricciardo what the hell did you do to liam? is he okay?

max verstappen liam is okay. i pinky swear it.

daphne jones what happened?

max verstappen i was not going to let liam ruin the magnificent plan that i made. he had to be silenced.

daniel ricciardo you make it sound like you killed the poor guy

daphne jones he makes it sound like he's a mafia hitman

max verstappen i could totally be a hitman.

daniel ricciardo cat-dad verstappen could never be a hitman. mad-max however is a different story.

max verstappen i could be a hitman who loves cats. hitmen have many sides to them daniel.

daniel ricciardo do you think this man could be a hitman?

daphne jones that man could never be a hitman

daniel ricciardo could max be a hitman?

charles leclerc absolutely not oscar piastri no fucking way sabrina carpenter i'm going to need context but the answer is no

max verstappen fuck you guys. i could be hitman.

daphne jones face it max, you could never be one.

sabrina carpenter however this version of max and charles could totally be hitmen

charles leclerc how the hell?

sabrina carpenter tiktok is a wonderful place.

daphne jones i thought it was the countless twitter tags asking if you had seen it already? sabrina carpenter oh no it came up on my for you page. it was a video called f1 quotes i quote on the daily. i, of course spiralled when i saw that specific part.

sabrina carpenter my favorite driver is kimi.

charles leclerc well he's retired. so who's your favorite driver on the grid right now?

sabrina carpenter fernando alonso

daniel ricciardo wow, that's so mean.

oscar piastri i would've said the same thing just to annoy you.

daniel ricciardo look who's no longer my favorite grid son

charles leclerc what the fuck? i'm a part of this group chat too.

daniel ricciardo you're on thin fucking ice until you tell xavi off or someone at ferrari.

max verstappen you can't seriously still be bitter about singapore

daniel ricciardo OF COURSE I CAN! HE WAS SACRIFICED MAX! LIKE A LAMB TO SLAUGHTER! I CAN BE BITTER IF HE WON'T!

sabrina carpenter i think charles has no choice but to enter his reputation era.

oscar piastri not yet, he hasn't hit rock bottom yet. charles leclerc and, in the rookie's opinion, what is rock bottom? oscar piastri dnf, dns, dsq max verstappen if at any point charles gets dsq'd i will be calling oscar a psychic. daniel ricciardo WHY WOULD YOU PUT THAT OUT THERE OSCAR??

sabrina carpenter so, mom, dad, are we going to qatar??

oscar piastri yeah, mom and dad, will you be at qatar?

max verstappen they went from being two strangers to mom and dad to three children in span of a few months.

charles leclerc he's only a few years older than me, how is he my father?

sabrina carpenter you dare argue with the twitter giriles?

charles leclerc no?

sabrina carpenter then congrats, you are now mine and oscar's older brother.

oscar piastri charles right now

max verstappen he should save that energy for xavi and ferrari

charles leclerc don't tempt me to crash into you max. i'll do it. then we'll have to wait another weekend to see you crowned world champion again

daphne jones THAT'S THIS WEEKEND? OH WE DEFINITELY HAVE TO BE A QATAR!

sabrina carpenter via air max?

max verstappen who told the pop girl about air max?

sabrina carpenter once again, tiktok is a wonderful place max verstappen once again, i hate you so much sabrina carpenter stay pressed sid. i'm their child and you are simply daniel's mistress. oscar piastri what is it the twitter people say? gagged him.

taglist: @glow-ish @agustdpeach @msolbesg @spilled-coffee-cup @1nt3rnetgf @six-call

¡leclerc-s speaks! can you tell i started rewatching dts now that the season is over? i actually do cry everytime i watch episode 8 of season 1. personally, i love suzuka, but i think the fia's choices with putting tractors on the track has given it a bad history. anyways, hope you enjoyed this, it's a little sad but i never write sad stuff so this is new.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet. enjoy!

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

❤️

Summary: You and Eddie can't stand each other. However, there is this little thing of Eddie wanting to fuck you senseless much to his chagrin.

Warnings: 18+, minors shoo! Enemies to enemies who fuck 😏

Don't copy, reuse or repost my work.

💖

Eddie couldn't stand you or your pretty smile but most of all he couldn't stand the way he wanted you so badly.

You were a goody goody teachers pet, all sweetness and light... Well except to him.

He ignores the fact that the thought of you on your knees with your mouth around his cock is the fantasy that has him fucking himself with his hand every night.

He imagines you coming done underneath him, those soft little moans that would drive him wild as he kissed every inch of your body.

Because he just can't feel this way... He just can't.

Dustin had brought you to Hellfire a few times and every time that happened fireworks would kick off between the two of you.

You got him so wound up that it took him out of his zone as Dungeon Master, that never happened and each time it annoyed the hell out of him.

Even with high school over - in which he finally graduated - he still couldn't avoid you.

Not only were you ingrained into Hellfire that he hosted weekly but you were also good friends with Robin and Steve so you were around a lot.

Take tonight for the example. It was movie night, Steve was hosting and Eddie had brought a date.

Her name was Tara and she was very cool, into the same bands as he was and gorgeous.

The thing was he couldn't take his eyes off you, you were quiet for a little while at the beginning of the night.

That's until Steve's friend Matt kept you company, joking with you, whispering in your ear and making you giggle.

Each second irked Eddie more and more, it made him tense and there was a burning feeling in his gut.

After a while Tara got fed up and left and he couldn't blame her. No, he blamed you.

💖

When movie night was over he agreed to drive Dustin back home, you lived next door so you were in the van too.

The tension was unbearable by the time he drove you and Dustin home, after Dustin went inside his house you turned into him with an irratated expression.

"What's up with you Munson?" he blinks stunned at your question and glares at you.

"Maybe it's the fact that you've been driving me crazy all night" He snaps and you frown.

"How is that exactly? I've been talking to Matt all night while you've been busy with Tara Jones" You make a face at her name and he wonders why you don't like her.

Some part of him deep down wonders if you were jealous, tries to ignore the rush of pleasure he feels that he drove you as crazy as you did to him.

"Matt is full of shit. A complete douchebag" He spits out and feels anger thrum inside him.

"What does it matter to you who I talk to or find cute?" you get out the van before he can answer and he follows you.

"It doesn't matter to me. What matters is that I could have had a nice date tonight and you ruined it" You round on him, eyes flashing and he swallows taken aback, jesus h christ you were beautiful.

Shaking himself out of these thoughts, he huffs and prepares for what you're going to say.

"My fault? How is it my fault?" all of his emotions come out at this point and he doesn't think about what he's saying, he just lets it all out.

"You drive me fucking crazy princess, I have a date with a great girl and all I can focus on is you, I couldn't take my eyes of you, had to watch you flirt with that asshole" the anger drains from your face and you move closer to him.

"Eddie...

"You're around all the time and I can't fucking stand you but the same time I want to kiss you senseless"

He finishes his rant, breathing heavily and stares at your wide eyes and stunned expression.

"You drive me crazy too you know?" you murmur and he finds himself gravitating towards you, he doesn't think, just acts and presses his lips to yours.

Your lips are so soft, they feel like heaven and he wraps his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him, pressing your body close to his.

The little moan that leaves your mouth goes straight to his cock, he backs you up against the wall and massages your thigh letting his fingers inch further up your skirt.

Lust takes over the both of you and soon your clothes are strewn on the floor as you head to the bedroom.

You love riding Eddie, the high of the orgasms leave you both seeing stars and the moans issuing around the room are sinful.

Love bites pepper your breasts and Eddie whispers in your ear as he sinks into you,

"You think that prick Matt could make you feel this good huh princess?" he coos as you whimper for his touch.

"Fuck me Eddie, please" your soft begging combined with the fact that he can't get enough of being balls deep inside you is enough to make Eddie sink into you again.

You're so tight, you feel so fucking good and he doesn't want this night to end or think about what tommorow brings.

He just wants to focus on your blissed out expression and the fact this feels like heaven.

❤️

If you'd like a part two then let me know what you want to see in it :)

[star-anise]

reading supercut: disability, body image, and trauma

A glimpse into the clothes thrashing around in the washing machine of my mind, with apologies that it is still a wet lump and not an actual synthesis of ideas.

From Easy Beauty: A Memoir by Chloé Cooper Jones:

[This event] embedded a damaging idea in me, one I’d recognize deeply when I read Scarry years later: beauty was a matter of particulars aligning correctly. My body put me in a bracketed, undercredited sense of beauty. But if I could get the particulars lined up just right, I could be re-seen, discovered like the palm tree is discovered. To be deserving of the whole range of human desires, I had to be extraordinary in all other aspects. In this new light, I started to see my work, my intellect, my skills, my moments of humor or goodness, not as valuable in themselves, but as ways of easing the impact of my ugliness. If only I could pile up enough good qualities, they could obscure my unacceptable body. [...] accepting the argument that beauty was malleable came, for me, with a cost. The Platonian view rejected me cleanly, but Hume and Scarry left a door ajar and I’ve spent a lifetime trying to contort my form to see if I could pass through it.

From Til We Have Faces: A Myth Retold by CS Lewis:

I now determined that I would go always veiled. I have kept this rule, within doors and without, ever since. It is a sort of treaty made with my ugliness. There had been a time in childhood when I didn't yet know I was ugly. Then there was a time (for in this book I must hide none of my shames or follies) when I believed, as girls do — and as Batta was always telling me — that I could make it more tolerable by this or that done to my clothes or my hair. Now, I chose to be veiled.

From Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy of Borderline Personality Disorder by Marsha Linehan:

Inhibited grieving is understandable among borderline patients. People can only stay with a very painful process or experience if they are confident that it will end some day, some time—that they can "work through it," so to speak. It is not uncommon to hear borderline patients say they feel that if they ever do cry, they will never stop Indeed, that is their common experience—the experience of not being able to control or modulate their own emotional experiences. [...] In the face of such helplessness and lack of control, inhibition and avoidance of cues associated with grieving are not only understandable, bur perhaps wise at times. Inhibition, however, has its costs. [...] Volkan (1983) describes an interesting phenomenon, "established pathological mourning", which is similar to the pattern I am describing. In established pathological mourning, the individual wishes to complete mourning, but at the same time persistently attempts to undo the reality of the loss.

From How to Respond to Criticism by Danny Lavery:

Apologize, but don’t really mean it, and plant a seed of secret resentment so deep in your own heart that years later you can’t even remember that you’re the one who nurtured it and made it grow, it seems that much like a native part of you.

From Tiny Beautiful Things by Cheryl Strayed:

[After learning that state child protective services had made a budgetary decision to only intervene with children under 12, to one of the teenagers that regularly shared stories of abuse at home] I told her it was not okay, that it was unacceptable, that it was illegal and that I would call and report this latest, horrible thing. But I did not tell her it would stop. I did not promise that anyone would intervene. I told her it would likely go on and she’d have to survive it. That she’d have to find a way within herself to not only escape the shit, but to transcend it [...] I told her that escaping the shit would be hard, but that if she wanted to not make her mother’s life her destiny, she had to be the one to make it happen. She had to do more than hold on. She had to reach. She had to want it more than she’d ever wanted anything. She had to grab like a drowning girl for every good thing that came her way and she had to swim like fuck away from every bad thing. She had to count the years and let them roll by, to grow up and then run as far as she could in the direction of her best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by her own desire to heal.

From Essays in Aesthetics by Jean-Paul Sartre:

Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you.

From "I Know What You Think of Me" by Tim Kreider:

if we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.

[leikeliscomet]

“But We Love Martha Jones!” - The Doctor Who Fandom’s Selective Memory of Racism

Be aware that this article contains explicit examples of anti-black racism and misogynoir.

Chapter 2 - Utopia-ish

The constant nitpicking of Martha Jones for reasons white female companions could get away with was blatant anti-black racism. Let’s get that bit clear first and foremost. As a Black person in fandom, watching Black characters get torn apart while never being given the grace of their non-Black castmates is an experience that’s too common. Microaggressions are more subtle so the easiest way to shut down any mentions of racism is to accuse Black fans of making things up or telling us “Well it’s not like REAL racism”. Luckily Doctor Who Tumblr birthed the Martha Jones affirmative action and Aunt Jemima “memes” so I can cross both covert and overt racism off the list. As mentioned in extensive detail in the previous chapter, plus the various Martha Jones articles written before me, the treatment Martha experienced was racist. I don’t care if you personally didn’t like her. I don’t care that you missed Rose. I don’t care that Ten is your smol bean. Martha’s treatment was racist. Freema Agyeman’s treatment was racist. It might not have been everyone. It might not have been you personally. But it was there. The fandom can never be a safe space for POC, specifically Black people if this elephant in the room can’t be addressed over a decade after it arrived.

On paper, you’d assume Martha’s rep was good because “at least she wasn’t a Black stereotype”. Some fans praised her for having a present father, not speaking MLE and not being from the ends. This goes into respectability politics but the fandom’s weirdness about Black Brits and class is not the point of this article. The point is the revisionist history of how Martha was really treated and to do that it helps to know what Black tropes are. The Mammy trope is a Black woman whose main purpose is to serve her white counterparts and during slavery, she mainly cared for the slave owners' children. She is usually fat, dark skin and asexual, not as a representation of those things but as a statement of how if she isn’t used for sexual exploitation like the Jezebel (the promiscuous, reckless, sexualised Black woman), she has no sexual value at all. Her value is serving the needs of others only. Martha doesn’t fit this trope in theory but in practice, she fulfils the sub-categories of this trope both in show and fandom: the disposable Black (girl)friend trope. She is used as Ten’s emotional punching bag before he’s ready for Donna and then Rose again. She had to endure edgy moody S3 Ten so no one else had to. She’s the excuse people use to deflect any critical analysis of how race was handled in RTD1. She’s the fandom’s excuse to deflect from their own racial biases. Racism? No way! Everybody loves Martha Jones! What do you mean?

Some parts of the fandom have tried to mend things by suggesting Martha be paired with other doctors or romantically shipping her with other characters a bit better than Mickey Smith. But does this hold up? As much as I’m a big fan NineMartha as a concept and as someone who honestly saw one-off characters like Riley Vashtee from 42 or Tallulah from Daleks in Manhattan having way more romantic chemistry with Martha than Mickey ever did, simply re-shipping Martha isn’t enough. Doctor Who’s racism isn't exclusive to one doctor, one series or one era and new Martha pairings suggest the issue was “right person, wrong doctor” instead of what the issue actually was: racism. Moffat and Chibnall’s eras weren’t full of golden Black representation either so I doubt the Martha issue would’ve magically disappeared under those two. From Nine’s hostility to Mickey, to Twelve’s hostility to Danny Pink to Thirteen handing a South Asian Spymaster to the Nazis and Eleven only travelling with POC in comics most fans haven’t heard of and being besties with Churchill, simply putting Martha with another Doctor isn’t the serve fans think it is. Even RoseMartha seems like putting a bandaid on a bullet hole. If it's not enough for Martha to be compared to Rose, put down in favour of Rose, told she isn’t Rose and told she's worse than Rose in fandom and in show over and over and over, she has to be shipped with Rose too. Martha’s a great character… as long as you can tie her to Rose… again. Even in my own article I have to talk about Rose because Rose is centred in what was supposed to be Martha’s story. A doctor-to-be Black girl from London with a hectic family meets a Time Lord and gets abducted by space rhino police at work in one day. Her main conflict isn’t balancing work and time traveller life, or fighting to get her family back together, or seeing what’s out there in the universe - it's that she isn’t “Rose” enough. The Mammy and her sons’ main thing in common is simple; how well they serve and centre the white characters. In attempts to mend Martha’s treatment she is still only valued in relation to white characters. She should’ve been with Eleven because he would’ve fucked a Black woman. Or maybe Dilfy Twelve. Or a sapphic romance with another female companion who she saw twice or doesn’t actually know. Or maybe Ten in an alternate universe where he supports #nubianqueens. None of this is done to explore sexuality or romance with Black women and is definitely not to centre Black lesbianism and bisexuality. It’s Mammy with a dash of Jezebel. It's adding romantic and sexual value on top of physical and emotional value like a crappy meal deal.

I’m tired of Black women being treated as extensions of white women both in media and in real life. I’m tired of our value being determined by how well we serve white people emotionally, physically, platonically and sexually. And I'm even more tired of white feminism especially in this fandom. It would be so easy to label this article as anti-Rose, anti-Ten or anti-Tenrose to invalidate my whole racial analysis because it's the easy way out. I’ll admit I like both characters individually but not the ship but this isn’t something I decided on since birth - it's my conclusion as a Black fan in a predominantly white fandom, watching a predominantly white show, watching the first companion of my race be told she isn’t good enough compared to the white characters, and that the hatred of her is justified for the greater good of its popular white ship. Black fans can never have this conversation without being told we’re “pitting women against each other” and that Martha and Rose hugged once in S4 so everything's hunky dory. Martha’s happy that Ten found Rose again so what’s the problem? It sends a clear message that Black women’s pain will never matter a much as white women’s feelings. “Rose is amazing! Martha’s amazing! Stop pitting women against women!” but who was pit against who in the first place? These faux girl power posts fail to acknowledge the overlap of race and gender which separates the treatment of Black and white women. It fails to acknowledge Martha’s hate was rooted in anti-black racism. It fails to acknowledge the anti-Rose pushback was in response to how the show and fandom convinced us Rose was the untouchable bar this Black woman failed to meet. It fails to acknowledge Freema Agyeman the actress was targeted not just her character. It fails because the female empowerment rhetoric that leaves the Black ones at the bottom of the pile only “empowers” women of a certain demographic.

The harassment Martha experienced was swept under the rug of “stan wars” but it was so much deeper than that. I’m not saying Martha stans are angels but there was no “Great Stan War” because the sides were never even. At the end of the day no amount of “Martha’s better than Rose” tweets will ever compare to the fact that Martha hate was rooted in misogynoir. Rose was and still is considered the greatest companion of nuwho, whilst Martha is constantly erased and undervalued. Rose’s video views and hashtags have always been bigger than Martha’s. Amy and Clara came after Martha but still surpassed her in popularity and got plenty of fan edits of “The Girl Who Waited” and “The Impossible Girl” whilst Martha was conveniently skipped in the companion lineup. The fandom’s bias still shines clearly in favour of Rose over Martha. Rose’s jealousy towards other women is justifiable and just the ups and downs of a 19-year-old whilst Martha’s is entitled bitterness. Rose’s flaws are compelling character moments and depth, Martha’s are “holding her back from being a good companion”. Hell, even Donna calling out Ten’s BS was entertaining accountability whilst Martha was just the angry Black woman. Fans will weaponise Rose’s working-class roots to imply a pro-Martha bias, failing to acknowledge the working-class to poor background of the average Black Brit, the anti-blackness middle-class Black people are not spared from, the many working-class Black characters of the show like Mickey, Bill, Rigsy and Ryan or how most fans don’t consider Martha middle class because she doesn’t fit the white British cultural stereotypes. You can't be the most loved and hated at the same time. The hard truth is Billie Piper wasn’t racially abused by Martha stans but Freema was absolutely racially abused by Rose’s and the effects of this are still around. Go into Martha Jones tags today and you’ll see snarky posts of how Ten could never love another companion like Rose. Even when Freema bravely shared her experiences of literal racism, fans were quick to yell “But I wanted Ten and Rose though” as a justification for years of misogynoir. Again, we need to address the elephant in the room instead of covering our eyes and ears to act like it’s not there. A Black character and actress was collateral damage in order for a popular white ship to rise and whilst I’m not an anti, I as a Black Doctor Who fan, I’ll never be a supporter. At the end of the day, only one of these actresses is still carrying the burden of misogynoir over 10 years since RTD1 ended. A lonely walk across the Earth yet again.

<- Chapter 1 Chapter 3 ->

[neat-crows]

For some reason I've seen a lot of people disliking the way Jessica Jones season 1 ends. The vibe I've seen is that it wasn't epic enough, it was underwhelming, and that it was too simple and fast and Killgrave would be too smart to fall for it. etc etc.

I think these takes miss the point though. This is the only way he could have gone out, BECAUSE it wasn't an attempt to outsmart him at all.

The whole point is that Killgrave wasn't an epic villain, he was a weird misogynistic little control freak that was obsessed with owning Jessica because he couldn't stand that she was her own person.

The whole season is a game of cat and mouse between them, and you can see just how smart both of them are - they are both equally powerful and intelligent, BUT killgrave literally didn’t need to be doing this at all! He could have left ANY time, he didn’t have to send Hope after her, he could have left before the house, or after he escaped, or after the nightclub, literally WHENEVER

His obsession with controlling Jessica was always his downfall

She was the executioner, but in the end he brought it all on himself

He didn’t get an epic ending because it’s not ABOUT him and because he didn’t need one. It was never about outsmarting or overpowering him, it was about his incessant need for control and Jessica making a decision.

And it works SO WELL not just because it makes good commentary, but also because it mirrors exactly how Killgrave tried to get her to bend to his will; both of them aimed for each other’s emotional weak point - but killgrave failed because he doesn’t actually know or understand Jessica at all, just the version of her he made up in his head and made her play act like a little doll for him

He thinks her weakness is a hero complex, because the first time they meet she’s saving Malcolm from some muggers and killgrave asks her if it felt good to beat up those men, she says yes, and when he asks why she says

“Because I helped someone”

And he’s such an inherently selfish person that to him that translates to a hero complex - He can’t imagine a person who just wants to save people, not to bolster their self worth or to in some way help theme selves. He’s spent his entire life only doing things because he wanted to, because it brought HIM satisfaction, that the idea that someone might willingly do Anything that’s not to make them feel better doesn’t even cross his mind.

And that’s why at the house he shows her the (curated) videos of his childhood, why he “respects” her wishes about not hurting the nosy neighbor, why he goes and saves that family with her, and is genuinely helpful. His tactic to get her to stay with him is to show her how his powers can be used for good, show her he’s also a person who can experience pain and love and joy, and then make her ‘realize’ if she stays with him she could make him a hero and good person. Because he thinks she will sacrifice herself for him and for society if he presents it as a way to atone and heal her guilt.

But Jessica refuses. She betrays him and takes her own route while knowing if she had given up all her autonomy she could have made him a good person and saved countless lives. (I don’t think this was ever actually achievable but she believed it was so the point stands)

Jessica jones has a lot of problems, but a hero complex isn’t one of them.

But Jessica jones DOES know his weakness, his real weakness, her. Controlling the only person who could defy him. And yes it is an obvious and see through plan - Killgrave even calls it out! But then in order to prove she’s faking what does he do? He assaults Trish - and when she continues following his orders he FULLY believes it and completely lets down his guard.

Why? It’s such an obvious trick! He’s supposed to be clever!!!! Well it worked so well because he clearly WANTED to believe it so bad (self admittedly), he was drunk on his own power, he wanted to believe his own strength and he wanted to own Jessica again. But also because again

He thinks Jessica has a hero complex

Her allowing this to happen to her friend ? Jessica jones would never do this! He knows her so well! She just Can’t Help but Help people! If she was faking her helplessness this would have broken her out of it! (Also there’s the whole level of the jealousy he has of Trish and the love Jessica and Trish share but that’s for another post)

And so he dies, small, unable to speak, not being told he’s loved, with a simple snapped neck from a cheap, unplanned ploy, that was thought up on the spot. Just as he deserved.

[variousqueerthings]

thing about rose, for me, is that she wasn't there first -- this in a "she was first in nu!who in the sense that this was the first person to travel with nine, and the first person since the timewar, and the last person that nine was with, to the point that ten was born out of that experience/modelled on her."

and in that framing, I am a big fan of her haunting of the narrative, because it start outs with her placing herself inside the doctor's ribcage and rebooting their ability to want to feel things, but unfortunately rose is still a human, like every human the doctor travelled with before, it's just that the doctor forgot how to steel themself against that inevitability because of the circumstances around meeting rose

this is The thing that I find tragic about martha, because I think she could have been that person, if she'd been the first person post-timewar to travel with the doctor, but because she's coming in during bleeding-heart times, she's got to deal with triage instead. and yes, there are wonders, and yes, there are good times, but for a lot of it, it's shrapnel, and I think if it hadn't been, she would have had a very different attitude towards *waves hands* space and time travel and aliens and the universe (one where she wouldn't be the person trusted with something like the osterhagen key)

and donna had a sense of that Space the doctor was in post-rose (she canonically stopped the doctor from dying in runaway bride) and stepped away from it, and didn't get back to the doctor until some of that hole-in-chest had been bandaged up, which martha did a great job of, but didn't get to really benefit from, and I think that's the sad thing about martha jones, is that she absolutely got a taste of the beauty and the splendor, but never without all the violence and heave weight that was put onto her

which, again, she seems to have been very aware of, considering she joined UNIT and Torchwood. her eyes were barely ever rose tinted (no pun here) during her whole journey in the story. martha really is in my opinion the most tragic companion (that I've met so far, I know Adric straight up dies, but maybe he had some fun times before that?), because yes, donna loses her memories and rose is in a parallel universe, but that's more tragic for the doctor -- they've both built lives

in donna's case there's probably a lot of imperfection in that life, but clearly a lot of joy as well, with her and her husband and her kid and her mum, and I'm sure she'd have preferred to be the donna who saw the universe and was splendid, but martha never gets to forget, and has to continue her life one step out of sync of everything she could have been

which, maybe her life is pretty flipping fantastic, but we really don't know, which is the biggest thing I side-eye about the first nu!who era. that whole weird ending with the sontaran and mickey is like... anti-character work, it answers nothing and it makes very little sense

all I know about her at the end is that she more than anyone saw the doctor's life and became a soldier (still a doctor as well, but...) because that was the work she saw needed doing, and she's the kind of person who does what needs doing. but is she... okay? youknow?

but going back to the original point, is that framing martha through the lens of rose is all well and good in the sense that rose is the reason the doctor is at that emotional point when he meets martha -- although donna absolutely had a very big hand in that as well -- but once we've established that, martha's arc is martha's arc, and it's dull to me to frame it as the "rebound" arc or even particularly about alloromanticism (including -- and this is why i get why people do it in fandom -- some shit said by rtd, which is just less interesting than what I get out of it, so shhhh)

she's got so much going on, and her relationship with the doctor changes the trajectory of her life, and it's in many ways a more interesting and far less straightforward trajectory of bad-to-better that many companions get -- it's a wonderfully complicated narrative that (and again, I get that some of this comes from within deliberate framings of the text, even though I think it's more than open enough to do more with, death of the author and all that -- but certainly not all of this is text either, some of it is ignoring what is actually there) is done a disservice by not going through the real messed up fascinating extraordinary shit that's going on during her era + arc in s4

but also... is she ok? I want to know. it's one of my top three burning questions, since we're getting a bit of best-ofs of the noughties DW era, some of your crimes can be righted by a simple bit of martha mr davies

[hijinxinprogress]

Cissie’s always on the news but it’s never coverage about her performance during or after an Olympic competition, it’s always about what she’s been doing that the JL sends their protégés to interrogate her so often

So Cissie’s like in the Olympics right?? She most likely has a bunch of fans and paparazzi following her like there’s probably so many videos of Cissie just being grabbed in public by YJ

There’s a video of every time Bart has just scooped Cissie up and dipped spliced together 😭 like she’ll be in the middle of a sentence whether it’s to friends or on a live interview then you blink and she’s fucking gone “Bart istg!! I warned you the next time you messed up my hair…” “Will you still be mad at me if we stop by that restaurant you like in Thailand?” “…You’re so lucky rn”

Kon dropping down from the sky and winking at every camera as he picks Cissie up before flying away. It starts a rumor that they’re dating and Cissie just starts roasting him every time she gets asked about Superboy in an interview “that guy?? He’s still pining over his ex” “He’s cute ig but his cologne ruins it, it’s so terrible” “I can’t deal with the abandonment issues, talk about clingy…” and now there’s a bunch of people that think they’re bitter exes failing to rekindle their relationship esp bc Kon does the same thing when he’s asked about his relationship with the gold medalist Olympic archer Cissie King Jones “She’s always training so she never had time for me” “God, the temper on that one? I feared for my life when we lived together” “she’s so picky, oh my god” “she’s like incapable of being open with her emotions”

Cassie turns it into a game they either try to sneak up on Cissie while people are watching and “discretely” filming as Cassie jokingly shushes someone that’s trying to warn Cissie or does the “guess who it is” thing but they just pick Cissie up and fucking fly away while Cissie’s halfway through a sentence (Cassie thinks it’s hilarious and Cissie is not having it bc “I’ve watched you pick up sidewalks with your bare hands…get your hands off my face rn” “I wear gloves???” “Yeah and they’re fingerless you moron!”)

Tim does an elaborate disguise (he pretended to be a reporter at least twenty-seven times and Cissie hates it bc she still gets shit for accidentally maiming an actual reporter bc Tim would tranquillize her while disguised as a reporter and then grapple away) but now he just grabs her grapples away bc he tranquilized her for movie night once and she tried to murder him but sometimes they reenact dramatic scenes from whatever show/movie or anime they watched last while the rest of yj laughs

Anita just mind controls security and pretends to kidnap her or opens a portal under Cissie that drops her from like a foot in the air “Wanna see a magic trick?” “Get the hell away from me Anita” Cissie will complain every time she sees Anita bc she keeps purposely dropping her “why am I the ONLY person who fell and you portaled the entire team” “Idk maybe you just suck??” Anita has made Cissie do the robot during a live interview and it went viral also bc they’re nerds they reenact anime fights all the time. And somehow despite Anita being the fastest if Anita gets Cissie, they’re usually late bc they stop somewhere in the Caribbean to sit down in a restaurant and get food “You’re literally magic how tf are you late…?” “We definitely didn’t stop to get food” “There’s food HERE! It’s was your idEA!!”

Greta just makes Cissie look like she’s flying mid conversation (there’s a disembodied voice going on about how happy they are that Cissie wants to spend time with them in between laughter) and doesn’t show herself until they’re halfway to wherever their taking her “Cissie, you’re a meta??!” “No, it’s Secret” “ohhh, you want me to this keep a secret? Got it!” “Wait no, I’m not a-!” And Greta’s giggling the entire time but suddenly goes quiet when Cissie tries to get her to say hi and prove that Cissie’s not a meta

But Cissie’s civilian friends are so concerned bc they know her and what nefarious intentions do these costumed menaces have?? What are they going to do to Cissie?? So they start recording Cissie getting ‘kidnapped’ and end up catching the shit Cissie and YJ say to each other out of context:

“Ooh, that’s aioli! It is, I promise! It’ll come out with a little detergent istg” 

“I haven’t seen you in foreverrrrr” “I literally saw you last week” “that’s soo longggggg”

“We’re gonna have a long talk about your eating habits…!” “Yeah, okay, mom…Why don’t we have a long talk about your cologne? How do you have enhanced senses and still make awful olfactory choices…?”

“I’m gonna vomit…what the hell are you wearing?? Axe??” “Don’t even! you know damn well-”

“Don’t pretend you can flirt, you’ve been single since birth” “you’re a very angry person and you should see someone about that”

“Cissie babe, guess whooooo~?” “Get your hands off my fucking-!”

“If you stop screaming, I’ll buy you a milkshake!” “STOP KIDNAPPING ME IN THE MIDDLE OF INTERVIEWS!”

“Wdym?? I know it’s you I smell that nasty ass concoction…If you don’t take off that stupid ass disguise, you fuCKING-!!”

“If you tranq me one more fucking time, Robin, you’re getting an arrow in the ass!” “Is that really how you should talk to someone who’s saved your ass so many times?”

“Constantine, get better at fucking aiming!” “…Constantine?! I should drop you in a fucking volcano!”

“Oops…” “mf 😑 you did that shit on purpose” “What are you a lawyer?? Fucking prove it”

[Usually there’s an exasperated green lantern trying to do damage control and failing to chastise YJ “Nononono! Put the civilian down we talked about this! You need proof and evidence, this is an abduction!” “They know each other istg Ms. King Jones is fine, she’s perfectly safe” as the cameraman slowly turns the camera to Cissie free falling from 90ft in the air and screaming]

[icebluecyanide]

AR Meta: John Rider & Alan Blunt

I was rereading some parts from Scorpia and I do love the sense you get that Alan Blunt actually liked John:

“A very brilliant spy,” Alan Blunt muttered. “We recruited the two brothers - Ian and John - in the same year. lan was a good agent. But John was the better man by far.”

A man as cold as Blunt probably could appreciate John being a very good agent, aside from that business about him wanting to get married. And just, I do have to laugh at Blunt saying John was the better man despite Ian being in MI6 over a decade longer. Poor Ian could never live up to the standard his big brother set in his few years as a spy.

And then later in the conversation when Alex asks how his parents died, it's actually Blunt who answers, not Mrs Jones, and we actually see a rare glimpse of emotion from him:

He paused. His eyes, as ever, showed nothing. But there was a little pain in his voice. “Somehow Julia Rothman discovered that she had been tricked. We don’t know how; we'll never know. But Scorpia’s a powerful organization: that much should be obvious to you by now. She found out that your father was still alive and that he was flying to France, and arranged for a bomb to be placed in the luggage hold. Your parents died together, Alex. I suppose that’s something of a mercy. And it was all so quick. They wouldn't have had any idea…”

He even tries to soften the blow for Alex by reassuring him his parents wouldn't have suffered! And this comes from a man who sees the world as a series of calculations, but I do think John and Helen's deaths was something Blunt took as a personal failure. Because the Scorpia mission was his mission as much as John. He was the new head of MI6 Special Operations, he sent John out there, and the least he could do was help keep John safe after John gave up his own identity for the mission. And yet Scorpia was able to plant a bomb on the very plane Blunt arranged for John and his family. He failed them and even fourteen years later, that failure still hurts him.

And I love how while Blunt can be truly a horrible character in the way he callously used Alex before, in this book we also see a different and dare I say, sympathetic side to him. Sometimes, things do get personal for him.

[holopossums]

Here are some fun and important and fun things to know about Krow Jones from the Radiant Souls AU!

Krow is 18 years old, almost 19, during the events of the movie. His birthday is in early November and he meets Yukito in December, so both he and Yukito are 19 when they meet.

He is transmasc. While AFAB, sometime within his youth he decided he didn't feel like a girl and didn't want to be one. He started HRT when he was 14 and had top surgery when he was 17.

Krow is bisexual and attracted to many genders and species. But he does not know this until after he settles down in the present timeline and has time to think about things like that. Due to growing up surrounded by mutants and Yōkai, he doesn't find being attracted to non-humans weird in the slightest, and is in fact surprised when many humans say they aren't.

Personality-wise, Krow is compassionate, sweet, and endearingly sincere. He is serious when under stress, but when he relaxes he is quite goofy and playful. He is curious, loyal, and courageous. But he can be blunt and sarcastic. He has a temper and is prone to jealousy and wanting revenge. Though he tries to be fair, due to his high expectations of others he can sometimes be overly critical and hypocritical. But he always has his heart in the right place and tries his best to exert self-control, keep his flaws in-check, and maintain an air of maturity.

When he comes across new words or things he doesn't know, he tends to misremember or mispronounce the names in funny ways without meaning to. In roleplay, he's mispronounced charcuterie as "shark-cooch-tarry" or called the Guggenheim Museum as the "Google High".

While not knowledgeable about many things since he didn't have much of a formal education, he's clever and street-smart. He knows how to improvise and strategize, and he is good at solving puzzles. He's not great with comebacks most of the time, but he does like wordplay and puns. (He usually appreciates Ace's (Leo's) humor when no one else does.)

He is an extremely bad liar. So much so that it's painful to watch him lie. This is usually pretty humorous since he tends to behave anxiously whenever he lies and becomes a ball of sweat.

He is vulnerable in some ways. He wouldn't knowingly and willingly give information to an enemy or anything, and he doesn't purposely rat people out since he's very loyal to his family/friends/causes. But he's easily manipulated and his emotions are easily toyed with.

He is easily embarrassed or flustered in social situations. When he blushes, the tips of his ears go red and it soon spreads to his whole face. It is adorable.

Krow is very easy to tease. Because he never had a sibling growing up, he never quite caught onto the strategy of "don't give someone who's annoying you a reaction". He tends to react to everything and doesn't ignore those who annoy him. Characters who like to tease have a lot of fun around him.

More under cut!

The mask he wears was originally his mother's mask. After she died and he entered the war, it was modified for his use in battle by Jett (Donnie).

Jett wanted to make sure that Krow was going to be as protected as possible, so the tech inside the mask is meant to help him out as much as it can. It can do things like calculate trajectories and timing for him, so it's best for him to have his mask on while in battle or swinging with his grappling hook.

Krow wears his heart on his sleeve and has ever since he was little. He's very expressive; his facial expressions and tone of voice give away everything that he's feeling, and he has a lot of trouble with hiding it.

The Future turtles were concerned about Krow being so vulnerable, so when his mother died they encouraged him to keep and wear the mask when he feels scared, anxious, or sad. The mask acts as a security blanket for him and he hides his negative emotions with it. If he has it on him when he is feeling bad and wants to hide, he flips it down. He literally masks up to emotionally mask.

When Krow was young he was given various age-appropriate tasks to help around at the Base. Due to the large amount of things that needed to be done, he has broad skills and knowledge. He sort of became a jack-of-all-trades kid. As an older teen he's fairly self-sufficient and knows how to clean, cook, fix things, give first aid, and care for others.

Krow started training to fight when he was about 8 years old, some time after his mom died. Master Ace (Leo) thought it would be good for him and might also help him emotionally. Krow started out with basic Lou Jitsu-style martial arts. He was not allowed to use a bladed weapon until he was 12 and until that age was trained exclusively with wooden sticks, staffs, or any non-lethal blunt object.

Krow had a specific job in the war as a scout, messenger, and courier. It was his job to scout out areas and communicate with the Base and the other Resistance soldiers about what was going on so they could better strategize. He knows how to identify different types of Krang exosuits and ships from a distance and is good at investigation and patrolling. He was also often sent on missions to send messages or retrieve/deliver objects that were too important for regular drones to take care of. (Drones were often easily shot down or seized by the Krang whereas a person had a higher chance of success.) Later on in the war when the Resistance's numbers dwindled and he was older, Krow's role became less specialized and he was also fighting on the front lines a lot as a regular soldier.

He is farsighted. He can see things from a distance really well which was great for his job in the war, but he has trouble with seeing things up close. He needs reading glasses. No one noticed this because the majority of the reading Krow needed to do was mission notes and messages within his mask, so others couldn't really see him squinting. He also learned that he can read better up close if he relaxes his eyes/goes cross-eyed for a moment then refocuses.

Krow, like a crow, is a scavenger and loves to pick up random objects off the ground that catch his eye. He's drawn to things that are colorful and shiny - cool rocks, flowers, glass shards, coins, trash, trinkets, anything really. (This guy would go ham in a gift shop, do not bring him into one unless you're willing to spend hours in there.) When not on duty, he fills his pockets and bag with the things he finds. He amasses collections of things that he likes and stashes them away in secret spots.

Little things bring him a lot of joy and he tends to assume it brings other people the same amount of joy. Because of this, if he likes someone then he is going to give them the random things he finds as gifts, regardless of whether or not they actually want these things. Gift-giving is one of his expressions of love. The better he knows someone the more thoughtful he might be about it - for example, he might give someone things that are their favorite color.

He always wants to feel helpful in some way and feels anxious when he can't help. He tends to serve others before himself and act as support. If he can't do much, you'll often find him doing menial tasks or manual labor. This makes him a wonderful carer when people around him are ill or injured. He's also great at getting chores done.

He is certainly his mother's son: he has so much undiagnosed ADHD. It's just expressed differently than his mother. He's not spontaneously loud and brash like her, but he certainly cannot sit still for long periods of time and always needs to be on the move. He's often pacing around or fidgeting, and he's very expressive with his hand motions and gestures. He's also quite mentally restless, especially when stressed, and tends to overthink.

Because of his restlessness and curiosity, some of his favorite things to do are simply wandering around and people watching. This makes daily life in present-day NYC immensely interesting to him. He doesn't like crowds so he'll often be on the top of buildings and watch activities from afar. This behavior leads into his life as a vigilante slightly later on, as he tends to catch a lot of crime when he's watching from up high. He's like a heroic crow carefully watching the scene before swooping in to help others and swiftly deliver justice.

Krow is highly adaptable, so given time he learns and adjusts fairly well to life in the present timeline. He is, however, an older teen who wants to be independent and does not want to feel like a burden, so he's itching to figure out how to make it on his own. He's past high school age and has no interest in school, nor is he confident that he could do well in it. A year or so after he's been in the present, he starts to look for jobs and apartments.

Present Jett forged documents for Krow so he could get a job, and Present Angel (April) helped him with other job things like interviews. Krow's first few jobs were in things like retail and fast food, which he could not stand and wouldn't be at them for very long. He's not socialized to believe the customer (or boss) is always right. He can be quite blunt or have a temper and speaks his mind about what he believes is right, so he's very fire-able despite any other good work he does.

Krow eventually lands a day job that he tolerates and comes to enjoy, which is being an ice technician and groundskeeper for a local ice rink. It's there that he learns that he loves ice skating and ice hockey, because he often watches games and competitions. (It's a little funny that he has to work in slightly chilly conditions considering he hates the cold, so he's often bundled up for work.)

By the time he is in his late 20s to 30s, he's far more emotionally/mentally stable and has matured. He seems to have mellowed out a lot, and he channels a lot of his anger and any resentment into his fighting and vigilante work. He kind of leans more into being edgy when he's older because he uses this edgy persona to be intimidating. (And he is still a bit edgy on the inside.) But he's still the same lovable dork too.

I could probably go on and on about this guy but I'll stop here for everyone's sake. But there ya go! Lots of info about him.

[voidwritesstuff]

A Heart beat away

CW: rot,decay,animal death and worms. A lot of angst and comfort.

Summary: In humanity's new home, Fury tries to reach out to her siblings from deep within her heart.

A/N: Does this count as strife september? hes got a few scenes and mentions here (no spoilers). @darkdemeter hey there Dem, youre in for one fluffy and brotherly love filled fic. (I got emotional re-reading this when I was doing my onceover, so you know its gonna hit hard/LH/HJ)

Fury had visited this realm exactly once. It was,perhaps, the one mission she didnt have to slay her way to get done what she needed to.

Now in hindsight,the realm is quite like earth,green pastures,bovine looking animals and a few lakes scattered. The Few difference laid in mostly the Flora of this place,And the fact that as far as she knew there were very few villages.

She sits now at the edge of one of the lakes where the few humans shes now in charge of lived their lives as best as they could. She looks down at her reflection on the water before her and realizes she...looks exhausted.

A sigh leaves the black rider,as she unclasps the amulet gifted by Death. She traces the carvings, feeling the divots and edges of the runes since her gauntlets are tossed to her side with her shoes and shin armor.

The coolness of the water feels nice against the skin of her feet and calves. Few were the moments of rest she got,there was always something she could do or help with back at the village but now she can just relax since humanity has kind of settled in their New home.

With this moment of respite, comes thought. Usually,thoughts have landed her in identity crisis as her journey on earth has so ungracefully shown her. But this one might just be the worst,because as her eyes linger on the amulet she notices her mind drifts to her siblings.

First,of course, is Strife.

When they were children,before all hell broke loose in Eden,they were quite the pair. He had her back at all times, he had returned home with a broken nose just to defend her honor. Strife has always been the sibling she was closest to,at least in recent memory. To younger fury he was...her knight in shining amor,just Like the old fairytales she was told growing up.

Strife...has always had a way to make his sister feel seen,hes never been afraid of putting her in line for her own good even if she complained about it. He has dragged her away from fights she was too small to take on,And always made sure she was okay.

So now she wonders,is he okay? Was he still fending off demons back on earth? Was he hurt?.

Once again he was saving her,that persona of the knight still gleaming through gruff witt and the blood thirsty ringing and roar of his pistols.

Her eyes close as she begins to feel them burn a little,her breath shakes as the crushing worry that has been lingering within her begins to show its face. Fury has never been one to cry,even before the nephilim massacre, but Now she finds herself in need of tears and sadness.

Was she burrowing worry from the future?Was she mourning? If so what exactly was she lamenting the loss of? Her brother or the brotherhood she shared with him?

Regret,thats what began to accompany her sadness. Why didnt she spend more time with him when she had the chance? Had she known he was Jones,would she have acted differently at all?

God,perhaps she has been a bigger asshole than she thought she was. Despite her antagonism towards everyone,specially Death, she now realizes that she just...misses her brothers.

It feels like a lifetime ago,when they were still family and this old world was so,so young. The memories of playing in the mud,of strife braiding her hair in intricate styles, the silliest jokes they would whisper eachother in the dead of night when neither could sleep, the way he would rock side to side when he hugged her...it feels like it didnt happen to her at all.

But it had happened,how could she forget?

How clouded was her judgement to forget the things she had lived?.All the good memories she has forgotten and all the love she denied to have for her brothers. Deep down she knows she felt unfit, ashamed,of relying so heavily on her siblings.

All her life she has been called the dumb one,irrational. No wonder she had the need to prove herself,to go above and beyond even if it hurt and burnt those around her.

Even if she had been told to ignore the stinging words. She wonders if any of her siblings saw something in her that she did not.

Strife sure as hell did.

"In other words,you have lived" he told her after her confession of how she has been all that the deadly sins stood for. Its really mind boggling how she reached this Age and only now has she lived.

--By creator,I can almost hear the 'I told you so' -- she murmured to the wind as if her siblings could hear,its tinted with shame of herself but also fondness. It wouldnt be the first time her brothers were horribly right, and the memories of those times warms up her chest.

Perhaps they could hear her,through the Bond of the vow they took when they became the horsemen. If so she wouldnt be surprised to find them snickering And trying so save face.

However,She has never used the properties of this Bond. She doesnt know how to reach out. Thats what she gets for dismissing Death's teaching- As talented as she was with magic she really had been a stubborn mule of a student.

Perhaps its desesperation that overpowers the paralysis of not knowing how to interact with this Bond.

Fury closed her eyes,holding the Nephilim's Respit tight and focusing on her breath. She slowly feels the world fall away,her heartbeat drumming in an endless blackness whilst also thundering in her ears.

Slow beats fill the void,she sees nothing but herself standing there unsure. But Still her brain is fresh with the memories of her second eldest brother,the laughter,the bickering, old and New she holds those memories to her heart and whispers...

--Hello?

Her voice echoes, grows in pitch and suddenly the empty ebony world seems so small. Her steps are soft and unsure as she walks forward, or what she thinks is forward.

No answer comes but she sees a Long Hall of Mud bricks stained with paint. She...recognized those scribbles, which makes her turn to her right to see a beaded curtain of red.

Widened eyes begin to show the realization within herself. She turns behind her to see a dining room,a rickety old sofa and a Burning fireplace. It smells of dry herbs and that Musk Death has always carried of dead leaves during misty mornings.

It all just pushes her to Keep walking,she sees then a beaded curtain of an odd,splochy Pink. She remembers now it was all hand made,and Pink pigment was hard to attain but Death had tried his damnest to give her that indulgence.

A few more steps and shes before yet another set of blinds,the one she has been looking for. Its maroon, the color easier to make with black,red and a bit of blue pigment.

She clears her throat,feeling like this whole house is bigger than she is.--...hello?-- she hugged the amulet to her chest,feeling safe with it in her grasp.

--Fury...?--Comes the voice of strife,suddenly the air smells of Gunsmoke,the scent hits and it takes her a second to recompose from whats essentially a horse's kick to the nose in smell form

Yet theres an odd ring in the tone,it started off gruff and sounding like it belonged to a grown nephilim,but then it thinned out and cracked like a teenager.

In that moment she realizes where she is. Its her old home back in...somewhere. But before her is strife's room,and if she wasnt mistaken it always looked like a tornado of messyness came over the small bedroom.

--Strife!--She called out,her voice too now childish. Uncoordinated steps make her rush past the courtains that click and clack together with each bead that flows around her face like hanging vines against a breeze.

The decor is lost on her,disorienting like overlapping memories. And the only thing that isnt a blurr is,of course,Strife.

He wears normal,rudimentary clothes. He smiles a fanged grin and says-- Hey,there you are you runt. -- but then her saddened expression registers And he asks-- why the long face?

No doubt in her mind, the female nephilim runs to him and hugs him. The amulet falls to the floor unbroken and her arms grasp him.

--Oh WOAH! Woah easy,easy...--his hands card through her hair, the motion soothing. Its been so long since she has felt the touch of her siblings. He rocks side to side to calm her--Was it those idiots again? Did they pick on you?

Fury knows this is a vivid memory,she tries to push past it by burying her head against her brother's crook of the neck. His words slowly quieten,lowering in pitch until its no longer within her hearing range.

Leaving one only sound,her heartbeat.

She must have lingered there for hours,it certainly felt like it. Was she doing this the right way? What else was she supposed to do? Did she miss a step?

Panic began to grow within her,ready to pull away to at least seek confort in the memory she had plunged herself into.

Her ears ring and suddenly her heartbeat bursts in a dry boom that leaves her deaf and only being able to feel her pulse though her shattered eardrums.

A rapid Fire thrumm that sits between her ears,a choir that only she hears amidst being deaf. Like frenzied violins that tell her to pull back,but shes unable to.

Soon she finds out why.

Within her chest another heartbeat joins,steady Like a low drum. Curiosity overshadowed Fear as she centered in that feeling.

Thats not her pulse.

Her eyes blink with surprise as things begins to click into place,followed by the smell of gunpoweer and smoke.

--Fury?--Came the voice of a very adult strife right behind her. She turns and sees his brother,armor chipped but still standing. His voice cuts through the deafening ringing,bringing her world to a steady foundation once more when she was just about ready to freak out.

Always coming to her rescue.

--Strife! Oh thank the creator!--She whipped around and hugged her brother-- why in the nine hells was it so hard to reach you?!

The gunslinger snorted,hugging back-- thats what you get for zoning out during lectures.

--Like you fared any better

He snickered--hm,fair-- His grip tightens and his voice lowers as he revels in the embrace--This thing wont last long. Lissen,im fine. Are you okay? Are the humans safe?--he sounds..not amused at this experience,perhaps he had fared better in hearing Death's teaching.

Fury nodded-- we're just fine. Im...fine..

--Y'dont sound fine.

She shrugged and melt into the hug,shoosing her brother when he tried to speak. Even if hes a little pressed about it, he understands the message shes trying to convey.

They linger as he rocks side to side within the hug. Just like he has always done when they were kids,it makes her snicker and melt into the arms and sturdy chest of her sibling.

And just like that,shes Back to her body and present time. Bone tired but with a smile on her face.

Tomorrow she would try again.

-♡-

It was a busy day,so Busy that Fury had come back exhausted and was just about ready to go to bed at 7 p.m. when she had finally been able to free herself of all the duties she had undertaken.

She all but collapses on the bed,sluggishly taking off her armor and being able to comfortably fit underneath the covers.

Her whole body feels as heavy as concrete,her muscles Burning and her eyes slowly begining to close on their own. She managed to snatch the Nephilim's Respite amulet before she fell in a hypnagogic state.

This moment was the only thing that had kept her going through today. Her hands move on her own as she noiselessly taps on the totem with the pads of her fingers,the world around her begins to fall alway and she unconciously plunges into the Abyss.

Once again she finds herself within the void,just like she did yesterday. At least now she knows how all of this works...kind of. Kind. Of.

Shes decided that shes reaching out to War tonight,was he still chained at the council's feet? Was he alright?. She knew the worry would eat her whole,and perhaps complicate this already convoluted work of magic. Had it not been for Strife yesterday,who would know what would happen to her.

A steady breath left this representation of her,devoid of armor and weaponry with only the amulet to serve as some sort of conduit and anchor.

Like she did last time,she began to walk whilst trying to remember any of her interactions with War. She expected a memory to manifest in this realm at some point, she had a few hours to spare anyway.

Worry doesnt get a grip on her,not even a few minutes into her walk. But she does grow tired as nothing has given her a signal on where to proceed.

That is,until she begins to hear childish but loud and fast approaching steps. She turns to find herself at the bank of a muddy stream,watching Strife and Death sparr on the land across the body of water.

She feels herself caked in mud and sees a simple wooden staff thrown hastily by her side. Pieces begin to click as she recognizes this memory.

By now she must be around her mid teens,she can feel her hair shorter than how she has it now. Her hands are barely scarred and her body does feel tired but theres still that youthfull unrest within her.

--Sister! Sister!--The voice of the young nephilim that was her brother makes her look behind her again.

There he stands, a hatchling nephilim of very undeveloped features. In human ages she guessed he must be around 10. After so much time, nephilim tended to lose count on how old they were.

--Hm,Yes Child?--Shes curious as to what the kid had behind his back. She tries to sneak a look but War is quick to shift his stance and prevent her from doing so.

Messy platinum hair strewn about his soft features with a rectangle shaped- Very underdeveloped fitting for the lack of years on his life span. His white eyes look up at her with something akin to expectancy.

--I...have a gift-- He said meekly.

--Ah,so is that what you have behind your back?

He nodded,his secret found out. He clears his throat and presents his sister with an unpolished gem of black,magenta and dark pinks swirling within it. Its rough in texture but she can tell theres a feline eye line in the dead center.

--The other kids were playing around in the caves-- he began, quickly adding-- And I.. I know im not supposed to play there, I know Death said its dangerous but I stayed only at the edge!--Theres an urgency to his voice,like he is telling the truth and is desperate for her to believe him--But then I saw this!--He inches the gem closer to her-- And...I knew I had to get it for you before the others saw! There were scary bats and rats but I braved through.

Fury chuckled endeared, her eyes softening and taking the gem-- we might be able to make a warrior out of you,little one. Bats and Rats are scary, and ridden with disease.

War shudered at the idea of falling ill-- Do you like it?

She inspected the dirty gem and sat on the edge of the bank,her brother following suit with an urgency to gain his sisters favor and approval.

--Well it is quite dirty,I cannot tell-- She was just messing with the kid,but she does clean off the rough stone when her words follow silence.

Now in all its Glory, the gift can be appreciated. She smiles and turns to the young nephilim-- Its beautiful, thank you.

War squeaks and hugs his sister who relents and melts into the gesture. Her face buried in his fine,platinum hair.

Her gaze drifts to the reflection in the stream,surprised to see the grown yet youthful face of war. She blinks with stupor and pulls back, she feels his brother grow exponentially and now she has to look up to meet his snowy gaze.

--What sorcery...--He began,but then fury just gave him a shrug.

--Did you also ignore Death's teachings?

The hulking red rider looked away like an embarassed child-- The works of magic are lost on me...

--Like humor?

--Are you sure youre not strife?--He bit Back with good nature. And was that a smirk on his face?--What are you...we doing here?--He turns to see the silhouettes of strife and death locked in a dance of well timed blows and parries. But theyre blurry figures of black against the evergreen forest around them.

--do you recognize this memory? -- She asked,feeling the heat of the sun on her skin even if this was all fake. She gets a nodd to her question,however-- I just...I...-- the words get stuck in her throat. She doesnt feel right talking to him after her mistreatment of him at the chamber of the Council.

War could recognize the tone and expression. She was his sister,of course he knew. And that smirk grows into a grin --could it be...you were worried about me?

Fury almost chokes on her own spit,not used to being read so easily. She coughs out a few crude choice of Words,and her sibling all but breaks into a fit of giggles.

--you flatter me,fury--he began,trying to play nice-- Youve changed...--His voice sounds warm,genuienly happy for her. Like a Real brother.

--Earth and humanity have taught me much-- the answer is short and simple,believing she has shown too Many of her softer parts-- ...are you alright?

He sighed,the inquiry clearly has a more convoluted reply to It. He doesnt know how she Will take it, and Kinder words do not find him-- I believe they mean to...send me to the Abyss.

Fury jumps from her spot beside him,she looks at her brother with wide eyes-- what?! No,no,no War... Ill go to find you i-

The youngest nephilim takes his sister's hand. His palm massive even if both belong to the same species-- Sister,I Will handle it.

--War this is the goddamn abyss!--she yelled,temperance thrown to the wind.-- Ill go find you--She insisted as her feet shifted to help her stand up.

--You must have other duties-- he insisted, his gauntlet hand- so massive and incredibly gentle- cups the back of her head-- You three have always disregarded me for being the youngest. But i implore you to listen to me,to trust me. I Will handle it.

She couldnt live with the idea of losing yet another life time companion. The grief would eat her whole.

Fury brought her brother for a hug,the instinct of an older sister knowing she cant protect her kin-Such a raw kind of pain and Despair- was tearing her appart. She almost cries if it wasnt for the way her brother cooed to calm her as he returned the embrace with careful mindfulness of his strength.

--Sister I do not know where this worry comes from,but...it is appreciated-- his tone is still urgent-- But after I return and I make those who wronged us pay,I Will find you.

War,always so sweet with his siblings. In the end thats all he ever wanted,to be loved by his kin.

--Be safe...-- she urged, still not able to restrain this Burning urgency that claws at her throat and chest. -- By creator,be safe.

His hug tightened and he nodded.--Is it too late to ask for forgiveness for almost decapitating you? -- thats his try at humor,and she plays along like she has always done with him.

--Never--She shook her head-- but that is behind us now....brother.-- she felt him smile against her shoulder,she couldnt see it but being able to sense it made it all the better.

--Im your brother now?--Smug little blight.

--...youve always have been. I was just too blind to see it-- her grip tightens and she can all but feel his stunned expression,yet he soon melts like a child in the embrace of family.

And before she knows it, shes back to her humble abode of dark wood and thatched roof. She rolled on her back,her hands still on the amulet.

--Miss fury?--Came the voice of one of the humans from the other side of the door of her home-- Its past sundown,are you alright?

--Just fine,Gabrielle. --Her voice is groggy and a little strained as she swallows the knot in her throat-- I Will be out in a moment.

--Alright,Please come by in the morning. Angie insists on having you over for breakfast.

Fury snickered-- tell the little runt ill be there. And I might just find her something interesting tonight. -- Angie reminded her of War so much,not only in appereance but her trouble seeking nature and that inherit sweetness to her. The little human might just get along with her brother.

--Very well-- the smile on Gabrielles face is audible,and the rider then proceeds to get ready. Her ears trained on the steps of the mortal growing quieter.

There was only one more sibling to check up on.

And already,she began to dread the encounter.

-♡-

Fury tried to stall the encounter for a few good days,the guilt and shame too much for her. After everything, after almost stealing his place...

How could she be so disrespectful?

The image of Lust's illusion makes her stomach churn, makes her sick. She knows now that she does not want her siblings to kneel...

Simply...she wanted to be respected,perhaps just wanted to be acknowledged. Just like War. And just as simply,she dreaded to meet her eldest brother's eyes and see reflected in them her hubris.

Death had Many faults,but he was a leader all in all. And now shes wise enough to admit that she needs guidance, because being humanity's protector was hard.

Humans...they were riddled with worries and the uncertainties of what was to come for their entire species. She knew the raw fear of survival,a part of that was why she accepted to become a horseman...aside from her loyalty to her family.

She knew that she could not handle such crisis,she felt like an arrow threaded by her own unsteady pulse. And with no-one else to turn to,shes forced to confront her fear not only for her but for humanity too.

After a bit of walking she found a spot with a bit of decayed vegetation. How bugs and maggots Fed from the dead Bark, an endless cycle of death and rebirth.

Fury sighed,sitting with her knees to her chest. She remembers when she was younger,they came across a dead carcass of a hunt Now spoiled.

She remembers being squeamish at the sight,but Death Gently nudged her forward and reached for the animal's skull.

--Its just part of life,Fury-- he commented with a voice soft,patient, almost coldly indifferent at the passing of the animal-- Hunt and hunter,life And death. Its a sacred balance, it died and we...

He uses his sword to sever the head of the animal,and kneels as he carefully begins to clean off the decayed fur. Theres a practiced ease to his movements,he cleans it off as best as he can and when hes done he presents the skull to his sister.

--Icky...-- She commented,kneeling to see the bovine skull with a mix of disgust and awe.

--Perhaps. Death Is a sight to behold-- the older nephilim Noted,understanding of the disgust but also amused-- But be keen,look-- as he talks,he points at the maggots and then Gently shooshes his sister as a flock of vultures feed on the carcass-- Its important to this world. Decay,rebirth,theyre woven together. And it can be...beautiful.

Fury tilted her head,eyes falling to the corpse. --I dont understand.

-- think of this...-- he began,scooping a Mass of worms. His sister recoils with a snarl-- They feed the vultures alongside this cow. We eat this Cow, just like it Ate of the Grass. Its Decay feeds the earth and the cycle begins anew. Just because you dont understand it, it doesnt mean its not important.

He lets go of the Mass of maggots who burrow underneath. He cleans his hands and grabs the skull,to then help his sister up.

--So..the Earth feeds itself, thats it?--The eldest nodded-- I dont see the Beauty in it.

Death snorted-- Beauty comes in Many ways,Child. Like this skull, I believe War Will like it.

--I dont like it

--And just because you do not,it doesnt mean War wont like it either. Perhaps youll find Beauty in this cycle from a different lense-- He offered his hand-- Come now.

And young fury took it as shes guided deeper into the forest for foraging. Trusting of her brother's words.

In time she did find Beauty in death,mainly for the association to her eldest brother. Seeing Decay and blight always made her feel that her brother was close, that she wasnt alone. that her once guiding light, was always showing her the way even if he wasnt physically there.

She centers in that, and that memory just now. She can already feel the crunching of leaves and her steps across the field. Its only noise and touch,still dark as only the void could be.

The more she walks,the more she expected to turn and see her brother holding a bovine skull tucked between his arm and ribs,but nothing ever did appear.

It wasnt time to freak out, why would she? It took her a long time to find strife perhaps death is much the same. He was the oldest after all and perhaps magic wouldnt behave the way it was supposed to- she knew Many things could mess with such powers.

But a solid hour went by and nothing appeared,and to worsen the fear she began to feel the Grass give way to hard cobblestone and everything she could hear was only whistling wind that choired like souls in sheer lament.

Death was...death, perhaps thats what caused the sudden change,surely she was growing closer to him by that logic- or so Fury told herself just so panic and frenzy didnt take hold of her.

--Playing hard to get?--She asked to the void,looking around into an emptyness so consuming, so endless that it swallowed her sight with no sense of depth-- You old bag of bones,do me the courtesy of meeting me half way.

Her voice carried no bite,her teasing smile unstably quivering and teethering the line between faux calmness and mania.

--Youre even hiding Dust from me,are you?--She kept going,trying to believe her own lie that she wasnt completely alone.-- Dust! Come here! I May just have seeds for you.

But not even the cawing of crows met her ears.

Its such a deafening silence,even her meek and fearful steps startle her every time she hears them,she didnt understand where the cobblestone path came from..an overlapping memory?

Whatever the answer it all ended un the same thing: Fury,terrible engine of rage and rider of the black horse,felt herself beaten by fear.

Was there a way to brute force this? That was her first instinct. Could she pull her brother by the ear and yank him down to meet her here in this realm?

Death more than anyone should be able to fully sense her reaching out.

--This isnt funny anymore,brother!-- She began,the nickname so foreign as she began to run towards what she believed to be forward. Her heels echo on a stone floor she cannot see and each frenzied step she takes terrifies her more and more.

Brother.

When was the last time shes genuinely called him that?

--Brother!-- she called out again,voice wavering-- Death where in Oblivion are you?!

She must have ran for hours,until her legs quiver and falls. Overcome by worry and grief she screams,ripping her throat and clawing at the black floor that has no depth and is nauseating to stare at.

Were those tears falling? Her face felt so warm,she felt so lost.

No guiding light.

No knight to come to her rescue.

Curled in a ball she sniffs loudly and cries,perhaps her tears pool on the ground or they dont. She can see anything, she can only hear her heaving sobs filled with mucus and gasping breath that grates her throat into fine sand.

Her brother would not be so cruel.

She knew him.

But she couldnt find him,not in this place.

--Where are you...?-- she asked,a voice barely audible. She has never felt so defenseless even with her armor on, just like a child lost in the forest.

And all the while the cobblestone floor texture taunted her,only then does she recognizes the choir,the whistling of the wind she had forgotten about in her fear.

She needed an anchor,something to calm her before she can try to pull away from this place. "Be keen" the rider told herself,as ever so slowly the whistling became singing and moaning of souls.

And then...blue light,it lights up her path. She looks up,made a mess of tangled hair and reddened face.

Large is the arch a few feet away her,she doesnt understand what is going on. She Begged for death to show,and only souls heeded her call.

One final glimmer of insight comes to her, souls answering the call of the reaper. She always found Death's description of his role as flamboyant theatrics,but by now she Will take whatever this place gives her.

Still,her walk is uneven and stumbling. Her breath burns her lungs with her throat scratched deeply by her despair,and yet one step and then another she approaches the arch.

Her trail marked by something that gives her some calm. Crow feathers,guiding her like a mournful path of breadcrumbs past whats behind the carved stone looming over her.

Blue light wraps around a circle platform,shes puzzled that the trail ends at the very end of whatever this was.

--Death...?--The name sparks a surge of pure energy that breathes overwhelming life into her and just as quickly takes it away, euphoric and disorienting. With it comes the flash of blue and she begins to see skull phantoms began to float in and out from the blue gossamer sheen.

She follows the path to the end,unsure of what else to do. She looks past the low wall and into the center of the light, she finds no answer and pulls back.

Theres a pulse in the air now that shes close to this source of power,she recognizes the slowness of it. Only one person she knows has a resting heart rate of 40.

Perhaps this is just a stupid prank, and she really doesnt like it.

In her disdain she pulls back,only to knock down something that clatters to the ground making a sound like bone on rock. It only puzzles the rider,and as she looks down at the object all breath is pulled from her.

That stupid,Freaky bone mask of her brother laid on the ground.

She picks it up with shaking hands and asks--Where...where are you.-- She asked,no answer given-- Where are you?!-- she screamed,her fear pulsing through the Bond across this realm. The place swells up at the sheer energy she displays-- Death! Come here right now!

Her voice like a fearful Bark,she Holds the mask to her chest fearing the worst. The whistling of souls still in her ears, coming and going in a cycle.

A cycle.

--Oh,no...-- fury's tone shakes with realization. Finally the place shes in makes sense.

This is a Well of Souls.

And by all indicators...her brother was dead.

What a horrible thing to understand. How could this happen doesnt matter now. Fury gives up her fight and collapses to the ground, slowly Losing her mind to her grief.

She expected to hit the ground roughly,but the impact never comes. She feels cold as strong arms hold her up,and though she cant see through her tears she hugs whatever is gripping her.

Theres no words,nothing to say other than-- Im sorry,im so sorry. Please dont be gone,please dont be gone.

--Im not gone,child-- the voice of death himself is devoid of any teasing bite or sardonic grit. He settles his sister on the floor and hugs her with a gentleness so unbecoming of him.

--...why didnt you answer-- she can barely talk from how hurt her throat is.

--Its hard to hear,among the dead.

--Why...why are you dead?! What happened...!

--To ressurect humanity...I had to make a sacrifice. -- he cooed,gently stroking her hair.

--Nothing Is worth more than your life...

The old reaper sighed,hugging his dear kin tight-- I hoped for humanity's rebirth to be the freedom of War.

She scoffed bitterly and began to tell him about what she spoke with War,what happened to humanity and how theres only few survivors now. Death seemed to...deinflate at the news,but not all was lost.

Afraid,meek and feeling too weak to fight her pride she says--I dont want to lose any more people I care about--And just like a child,she asks-- Will I see you again?

Death nodded-- Surely. Life is a cycle. And i do believe our work is not done.

Fury sighed and cuddled closer-- Im sorry,im so sorry for everything Ive done to you...

He could never hold a grudge towards his siblings. He shakes his head and closes his eyes,his face pressed on the side of her skull.

--nobody knows your fury more than me,there is no ill Will I could hold to you. Youre still my sister.

--But ive been awful to you

Even in his untimely demise,Death had to fight the fear of vulnerability--my love for you three is unconditional.

Life hasnt been easy,and neither of the four have made the best of desicions. But still they prevailed,and so did their Bond.

The pale rider pulls away to wipe the tears of his sister,humming under his breath a gentle lullaby to sooth her. She slowly evens out her breath and when calm returns, her brother pulls back her hair with his spindly fingers and says.

--Youve grown much,sister.--Was that pride in his voice and face?

Only now she realizes,thats his actual face. Its been so long since shes seen it.

--I...couldnt fight it.-- she admitted --But...I did try.

A warm chuckle left the eldest-- I'd be worried if you didnt. -- he rests on his knees and goes to pull back a strand of wine red hair that got into his sister's mouth-- Its not easy being a leader. But surely youll find your way.

She snorted-- Since when are you so...soft?

The world makes him snarl-- Rid it of your mind. --He began,looking away at the ground-- looks like we have both grown. There Is much I must make up for.

Fury was in no mood to fight-- I dont know...anything. I dont know how to handle the human's fears and worries. I just...

--You dont understand? -- Its like hes recalling that same memory she did before all this. He sounds just a little smug,good to see not all of his nature got lost.

She sighed with disdain,knowing fully well what followed-- Suppose so.

Death pulls back his hands to rest them on his lap with his usual slouch akin to a shrimp-- worry is only natural,given their state. There is no rule book for leadership,I would just advice to follow your instinct. I believe youre finally of sound judgement

--Is that supposed to be a compliment?--Fury chided.

He smirked--You ask too much of me,sister.

The she horseman pulled her brother for a hug and decided to enjoy the company before the spell ended. He seem to catch on and hug back with no fight or complaint- He missed being a brother,so here he is.

--We'll bring you back-- She promised under her breath.

--We'll see eachother again-- His voice is so certain, it calms her and gives her a fixed point as she begins to lose the sensation of his touch and the world around her.

She now sees the sunset embracing this realm, she holds nothing but air but the smell of dead leaves and humidity cling to her. A final gift.

--At least you finally get some rest-- she commented towards the decayed tree,noting that within the trunk lays a single bird skull with feathers still clinging to it.

Fury grabs it and carefully cleans it on her way back to the human village. Her eyes are puffy from crying but she breathes in and out,she has had enough for today.

Eventually she reaches the human settlement and greets the mortals who dont comment on her tired appereance. Yet she does make a stop to hand the skull to little Angie,who acts a bit disgusted but intrigued.

--Why give me this?-- Asked the child.

--My brother taught me something, little one-- she kneeled to eye level-- The world is very scary for all of Us now. But your kin Will rise again. Just like after winter comes spring. -- she felt so silly saying it but nevertheless she does-- Its a cycle. Right now you feel scared and unsure,but you Will find your place here. All of you Will

Angie's face was a clear sign that the cogs in her head were turning-- I.. think I get it. Uhm thanks miss fury-- the child smiled brightly,warm as the Fire of the rider's youngest sibling-- Uhm..stay for dinner?

Fury's eyes met the gaze of Gabrielle who nodded reassuringly. She then returns to the girl and picks her up-- Very well. -- as they walk she begins to humm a tune,a single lullaby for herself.

The child she holds perks up-- You know it too?--The rider looked at her puzzled-- Jones sung it to me once,made me Real sleepy.

Priceless was the face the she-horseman made,taking just a split second to guess the circumstances that brought this kid to know such an old tune. She chuckles and shakes her head dismissively--Funny. My brother sung it to me,too.

Angie smiled-- Is he as sweet as Jones is?

Fury tapped on the amulet absentmindedly and looked past the window of the kitchen where a family was playing. She knew their story,an eldest brother in charge of taking care of his siblings with no guide other than his heart and witt. Much like Death when he was given the role of care taker.

With a chuckle she answered-- Even sweeter. He can be a bit of a handful sometimes-- she rolled her eyes as she recalled Death's and Strife's dramatic appereances-- Both of them actually, Sooo dramatic.

The child snickered--Jones told me I remind him of his youngest brother...William was his name?

Fury has to hold back a snort. 'William? Really?" She thought-- Hm,you remind me of my youngest brother too. In looks and demeanor. You little trouble maker-- she sets down the kid and ruffles her hair who giggles at the interaction And tries to stop the nephilim from messing with her fine locks.

The black rider knew her journey was far from done,and eventually she Will reunite with her siblings. But until then, she is not as alone as she thinks she is.

She has a family waiting for her here,and beyond all these realms. After all they were just a heartbeat away.