#fleeing the country and I’m so dead. tbh he just needs to like get shot for Peter or something I feel like that would fix it. or Peter could

[ziracona]

HAH I said Rebecca was evil since day 1!!! It was so obvious! She’s not that sneaky!!!

But fuck Neal is in the trenches. Life ruined. Heart broken. Sarah moved and he let her go, Kate is dead and he couldn’t save her, Rebecca was playing him all along, and Peter is treating him like shit.

Peter needs to quit being god’s worst partner and friend. Like stg Elizabeth is carrying the 8% chance of this not ending in the most catastrophic tragedy of all kind on her BACK. Every single scene she’s like “Honey aren’t you being really unfair to Neal?” and she’s the only voice in that corner Elizabeth it’s just you. Bases loaded 2 outs last inning we’re all praying for you babe

[goforwardgreenwriter-blog]

The Worm Reads: Empire of Storms, Ch 51 - 53

Sorry these have been coming out a little later than usual, I was sucked into a Nuzlocke playthrough.

Eyllwe’s coast was burning. For three days, they sailed past village after village. Some still burning, some only cinders. And at each of them, Aelin and Rowan had labored to put out those flames.

You get three guesses as to whose feelings over innocent people being burned alive are focused on. The first two don’t count.

Rowboat and the narrative splooge over how ~angsty and tortured~ Alien feels over Eyllwe being burnt and attacked, and how much she’s doing by staying on the ship and trying to put out the flames from there. Yawn. Maybe if Alien wasn’t a shitty character, I’d care.

Also there’s a rumor that Alien herself is starting these fires??? It probably won’t be important, it’s probably just for Alien to cry over so Rowboat can comfort her.

[Rowan]’d breathed [Aelin] in, and she knew he detected an answer to the question that had caused him to flee that morning on the ship. No, she was not carrying his child.

Oh great, this is returning. SJM uses this to briefly describe a sex scene between Rowboat and Alien where Alien reveals she’s not taking anything to prevent pregnancy. I mean, well, where would she get that on a medieval ship?

And then [Aelin] had explained that if she’d inherited so much of Mab’s Fae blood, she might very well have inherited the Fae’s struggle to conceive. And even if the timing was horrible … if this was to be the one shot she had of providing Terrasen a bloodline, a future … she would not waste it.

UMMMM WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.

WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST READ.

It literally explains after this Alien didn’t ask Rowboat if he wanted to have kids. She is literally using him to have sex with in an attempt to have children without his consent. WHAT THE FUCK. THIS IS NOT OKAY!!!!!!!!!! THIS IS NOT CONSENSUAL OR HEALTHY!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh, but since Alien is a woman and Rowboat is a man, it’s suddenly okay???? WHAT THE FUCK AM I READING

So aside from that extremely horrifying implication, the gang makes it to the Stone Marshes and Manon has to say goodbye to Abraxos, since he’d be too noticeable on the marshes. I cry.

Manon swallowed hard. “You saved my life. Many times. I never thanked you for it.” Abraxos let out another low whine. “You and me,” she promised him. “From now until the Darkness claims us.”

I can’t believe a bloodthirsty witch and her pet wyvern are the only two characters I care about on this entire ship besides Gav. Despite SJM trying to ruin Manon’s character, she and Abraxos still deserve better.

Manon tears up that red cloak from her half sister she killed and uses it to tie her hair back, before chucking the rest of it into the sea. SJM can’t resist the urge to then make it all about Alien’s feefees.

Aelin Galathynius said quietly, “You never stop seeing their faces.” It was only when they were rowing for the shore, spindrift soaking them, that Manon realized the queen hadn’t meant the Thirteen. And Manon wondered if Aelin, too, had watched that cloak floating out to sea and thought it looked like spilled blood.

Manon just had to cope with the idea her Thriteen might be dead and it’s all about Alien feeling upsetti some country people she’s never met died. adhjgfjah I’m fine, I’m fine, it’s all fine.

Next chapter opens up with Lorass and Elide on their journey to find Alien. Lorass says that the dark god himself Hellas is guiding him or some shit...? I don’t really care. They’re off the boat and come across a place that got fucked up by something.

Indeed, the hair on his arms had risen, every instinct on alert as he scanned the marshes, the ruins, the brambles, and thick foliage that had choked some of the islands. Even the god of death halted his nudging and ducked behind Lorcan’s shoulder.

You.. just spent several paragraphs splooging about the connection between the god of death and Lorass and how badass it is, and now you’re saying the god of death is cowering behind Lorass. SJM, you’re killing me I hope you know. You’re killing me.

“What is inside these marshes?” [Elide] asked instead. “Why is Aelin headed into them?” (...) “I don’t know,” [Lorcan] admitted. “No towns or outposts exist anywhere nearby.” Yet this was where the dark god had led him—and where that hand still pushed him to venture, even if it quaked.

I’m tired. Have a reaction image to sum up my feelings.

They travel for a couple of days across the marshes. One night, Elide hears some spoopy noises, so she asks Lorass to tell her about Maeve.

“Do you love her?” Those eyes, darker than the gaps between the stars, slid to her. “I have been in love with Maeve since I first laid eyes on her.”

Maeve treats all of you like servants, and in some cases slaves, and has no real affection for any of you. You’re her soldiers, and she’s not exactly a caring queen. Why are you all in love with her? Is it because she’s hot?

Elide’s like “uhh that doesn’t sound like love at all” and Lorass gets all pissy. Lmfao he’s just angry because she’s right.

“I think love should make you happy,” Elide said, remembering her mother and father. How often they had smiled and laughed, how they had gazed at each other. “It should make you into the best possible version of yourself.”

Funny how SJM understands this........ but writes Ratlin as posessive and abusive assholes to each other and has Alien not ask Rowboat for consent.... *thinking emoji*

tl;dr Elide kisses him and Lorass decides to make out with him. I’m not... horribly offended as I am with Ratlin, it’s just kinda a dumb ship with no chemistry, but hey, I’ll take that over the pile of dogshit that is Ratlin.

Lorass is about to slide into second base when he hears a bunch of Ilken arriving, and it’s implied they’re coming for Alien. I feel bad for how short this review is at the moment, so let’s keep going to chapter 53.

Two days into the endless labyrinth of the Stone Marshes—two, not the day and a half that gods-damned Rolfe had suggested—Aelin was inclined to burn the whole place to the ground.

Oh no, one half of a day more than his estimate... stop being such a whiny lil shit, Alien.

[Aelin] kept the [insects] away with a shield of invisible flame, revealed only by the zinging as they slammed into it. She might have felt bad, had they not tried to eat her alive the first day here.

Why would you feel bad for killing insects? They’re bugs who could possibly be carrying diseases. So Alien feels bad for killing dangerous insects, but not some of Rolfe’s people?? Lmfao you are so full of shit, SJM.

[Fenrys] could no doubt leap the gaps between the islands in wolf form, as could Gavriel. Why they bothered staying in Fae form was beyond [Aelin].

Ok, so like... why are they staying in Fae form, then? Also, that wording implies that Gav also has a wolf form, which he does not, he shifts into a lion.

Lysandra and Fenrys lowkey flirt with one another over their brands or some shit? Skipping this like my life depends on it tbh.

Dorian and Manon hauled themselves onto the bank below, dripping wet

But did they haul their asses onto the bank? This is important information the world needs to know, SJM!

Aedion, seated beside [Aelin], passed the too-light skin of wine. She swigged from it, glad for the sour slide that washed away any lingering taste of the meat.

Oh my god... they drink wine instead of water? This explains so much about these books. Corrected by @kittyinhighheels that this is actually historically correct! Thank you for correcting me on that.

Anyways, some swamp beast attacks them out of the blue, aiming for Manon, but Dorito stops it with his ice magic.

But Aelin looked back at Rowan, holding his stare. How convenient that your shield vanished right as that thing waddled up. What an excellent opportunity for a magic lesson. What if it had gone wrong? Rowan’s eyes glittered. Why do you think the hole opened up by the witch?

So Rowboat was willing to risk  Manon’s life - and possibly others - in order to... shoehorn in a magic lesson for Dorito? Nope. This was an excuse for Dorito to save Manon, and you all know it.

Apparently, the amulet Alien carries is an entirely different symbol and meaning in the witches’ culture. That’s actually kinda cool, I like it. Manon tells the story of Rhiannon Crochan and how she cursed the other witches before she died. It’s pretty neat; SJM really should’ve cut out the Alien bullshit and kept the series about the witches.

Later on, the male Fae fuck off to have a private conversation.

Gavriel said, “You should take Aelin a thousand miles from here. Tonight.” A wave of [Rowan’s] magic and honed instincts told him all was safe in the immediate vicinity, calming the killing rage he’d slipped into at the thought.

Jeeeeeeeeeeeesus, Rowboat. I get wanting to protect your loved ones but he gets such a fucking raging anger at the thought of anyone near Alien and it’s so fucking gross.

Fenrys points out the similarities between Manon and Alien, like they’re both have different sides of heritage, both lsot queens, etc. Yeah, but you also forgot that Alien is a raging selfish asshole and Manon isn’t, so.

Fenrys breathed, “Maeve will not allow herself to lose. Already, she’s replaced you.” Rowan whirled on Gavriel. “Who.” Those lion’s eyes darkened. “Cairn.”

Why do you care? This is treated as a big reveal when A) Lorass already told us about this dude, and B) Of course Maeve would replace you after you left.

Cairn … No amount of training, both off the battlefield and on it, had ever broken the Fae warrior of his penchant for cruelty. Rowan had locked him up, flogged him, disciplined him, wielded whatever shred of compassion he could muster in himself … nothing. Cairn had been born savoring the suffering of others.

Oh, of course he’s a one dimensional evil bad guy, too. SJM doesn’t know what nuance means.

For Maeve not to have given either male a gag order through the blood oath

I had to read that, so you do too.

Apparently Maeve wants Lorass dead because he and Rowboat are the msot powerful males in the world. Hnnnnnnnngh and as if that gushing isn’t bad enough, Fenrys literally asks Rowboat to kill him if Maeve makes him kill Alien.

Alien is such a goddamn Mary Sue, literally every character loves her and kisses her ass and those who hate her are villainized to hell and back. I’m so tired.

“I’m glad, you know,” Fenrys said with unusual graveness, “that I got this time. That Maeve unintentionally gave me that. That I got to know what it was like—to be here, as a part of this.” Rowan didn’t have words, so he looked to Gavriel. But the Lion was merely nodding as he stared down at the little camp below. At his sleeping son.

F-fuck... this got to me. Gav and Fenrys deserve better and they better not die I swear to god.

[burnedlegate]

Chapter I - Catching Fire

um, ok, so here it goes? the first chapter of my Finn/Daniel fanfic. i want to eventually post this on AO3, so idk if I’ll add another chapters here, but let’s say this is.... a trial?? first of all, i have no idea how tags on AO3 work and tbh they scare me, also, as i said in the previous post, i’m not a native english speaker and i often mix up the tenses and stuff (also the quotation marks are wrong, i mean, not english but czech, but i didn’t think i was gonna publish this when i was writing it so... yeah. and i’m not editing that shit now),

so.. that’s a thing. i’ll be happy for any kind of feedback, especially if it’d about some typos or stuff like that! now i’ll keep trying to gather courage to put this on AO3 :’D

People say that everyone has a home somewhere, waiting for them. The courier‘s oldest brother used to say that, but the way he spoke about home – for him, it was a concept to be abandoned, useless, futile. Veronica used to say that when she talked about the Brotherhood of Steel and her ideas about its inovations, and she said it even after what she was evicted from the order and refused to step inside the bunker. Ulysses, whose home was irretrievably destroyed, said this to her, and he stayed true to his words, watching over the land and its horrors to this very moment.

Her father used to say that, and when he said that, he spoke about their mountain cabin in the Mahagony Mountains in Utah.

That cabin was irretrievably lost now, incinerated into ash and burned carbon. One could say home isn’t a place, but a person; but her father was gone as well, crucified by the Caesar’s Legion.

The courier, Finley Jäger, didn’t have a home. She thought California could become her home, but the forced patriotism couldn’t replace the feeling of safety and certainty. She thought Nevada could become her new home, but that very thought forced her to flee the country to… this place.

The courier didn’t have a home. She used to have a mountain cabin, and she used to have a father. Now she stood in the Zion Canyon, and she realized that she’ll never be closer to that memory than now.

This feeling, this moment – you’ll never have it again.

„Hey, Finley,“ Jed’s voice interrupted her. When she turned to face him, the caravaneer working for the Happy Trails Company spoke again: „I was sayin‘ that in case the New Canaanites won‘t be able to get us back home, you’ll step in with your Pip-Boy and your maps. Since Ricky run away, you’re our only option. We can count on you, right?“

Finley, known as Finn among friends, raised her thumb up.

„I’ll take that as a yes,“ Jed squinted, and the courier responded: „Yeah. Sorry, was savoring the moment here.“

„It sure is beautiful here,“ Stella said. With that, Finn finally stepped away from the ledge.

Jed sighed loudly. „Enough lollygagging! Get moving and keep an eye out for tribals!“

„Sir, yes, sir,“ Finn answered avidly and the caravan started moving again with two mercenaries in front, two behind them, Jed in the middle and her and Stella right behind him. Stella adjusted the rifle on her back and interjected: „Sorry to bother you with reality, ol' Jed. Who cares if we can't get back out the way we come? That's not a problem.“

„It’s simply the way it is,“ Jed answered, visibly trying not to sigh again, and slightly sped up to avoid more remarks of his companion. Stella obviously didn’t miss it as she muttered under her breath: „Heard you the fifteenth time, Stella. What's it matter if we're trapped here? Everything will be just fine.“

„What’s this about?“ Finn asked, surprised by Stella’s anxiety.

„Well, if you were listening, my dear courier, you’d have heard me expressing my deep concerns over us getting home, because we sure as hell ain’t going back the same way,“ Stella said, and the courier just shook her head: „Hey, we’re cool, I got my maps and everything!“

„Just like you got your big backpack and everything?“

The courier puckered her lips: „You just won’t let that go, will you.“

„Well, considering the fact that you stated that you’ve been here, I found it really curious that you thought you could bring a whole damn armoire with you,“ Stella answered.

Before the courier could answer anything, Jed suddenly stopped dead on his tracks, looking alerted – both of the women almost bumped into him.

„What’s up, Jed?“ Stella asked with an obvious hint of the everpresent anger in her voice; but the caravaneer put finger to his lips, shushing her instantly. Then he said very, very quietly: „Hold on, now... could swear I heard something up ahead.“

In that very moment, the mercenary in front of them fell to the ground. Dead.

„Fuck,“ Finn breathed out as the brain of father of tree and rancher from California of the name Timothy Wells splattered on the ground. „Fuck,“ she breathed out again when she was crawling for cover behind a boulder with Stella following her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

„Goddammit, ambush! Cover, people! Watch yourselves!“ Jed screamed and did the same, hiding behind a boulder close to her. Finn pulled out her weathered 10mm pistol, which she truly didn’t expect to pull out so soon, and aimed at one of the ambushers placed on the cliff above them. But the paint on his face, his braids, his weapon-

„Holy hell, it's the White Legs! What are they doing this far south?“ Jed screamed to confirm her worries, and Finn breathed in, and out, because-

It seemed – it seemed her worst worries came true. She came all this way for nothing. She came to herself just in the moment to crouch to the ground to evade a flying tomahawk, which, luckily, pushed her back to reality. There’ll be time for mourning later.

If there’ll be a later.

„Goddammit, never should joined this assbackwards caravan,“ Stella cursed under her breath and fired a few shots from her laser rifle. Finn fired a few shots at the White Legs on their terrain level, because she had a scant view on the White Legs above them in her current position. She looked around and found out that most of the mercenaries, which the company hired, were dead.  

„We’re sitting ducks here!“ Stella screamed. „We need to get out of here, fast!“

„There’s no way out of here!“ Jed screamed back. Finn looked down from the cliff to the river which flew through the canyon. It’d be… quite a fall. But they couldn’t push through the tribals. And they couldn’t go back. They were, very effectively, trapped – and they were losing.

„Enough of this!“ Stella suddenly screamed and stood up. „Here I come! I was a sheriff once, goddamn it!“

With that, she charged at the White Legs.

„Stella!... Oh no! Don't you die on me, woman, you hear?“

Finn shot at another tribal, killing her. At least she thought she did. It seemed like whenever they killed one, another one popped up from nowhere. They had to get out of here.

„Jed! We need to go!“

„There’s nowhere to go!“

„We can just jump down-“

„Are you out of your mind?!“

„We can’t fight through them!“

Suddenly, a blast threw both of them a few feets back. The only thing Finn heard for a while was an annoying humming noise, and then it was humming coming from Jed’s pistol who shot down a tribal woman coming at them with a shishkebab. A shishkebab. Where the hell did they get these weapons?

Something pulled her up to her feet – Jed – and gave her an intense look, and screamed, but Finn had problems comprehending what he was trying to say.

„On your feet! Keep fighting! Come on, I got ya…“

He tried to move them both behind another cover. But it was too late. It was always too late.

***

The young missionary, Daniel Young looked down from a cliff to look at the Narrows and it inhabitants, currently waking up to a new day. The Sorrows got up and went to sleep with the Sun; the Sun’s been up for two good hours and the tribals were cooking fish on the fire, getting ready for scouting the area, waiting for the morning service.

He was walking around the camp for two good hours. When he woke up after five in the morning, he managed to calm himself down by this perambulation (perambulations) around the Narrows, but it never really helped. And it surely didn’t help him rest.

It’s been a long time since Daniel had a good night sleep. Sleep used to be an escape for him, from this world to the world of what could have been; now it’s become an obligatory route to the world of what happened, what he saw, what he had to see, and his mind was forcing him to go through these moments again and again and again. Sleep was, of course, necessary for survival, but Daniel Young wasn’t its greatest fan, so to say.

Now, he’d usually go over his supplies, but honestly, there wasn’t much to go over. It’s been a long time since he’d seen some proper supplies, and the situation wasn’t getting any better. He didn’t have the time to go look for them himself, and the Sorrows couldn’t go either, considering most of the tourist spots taboo. And then there was always Joshua, telling him that they don’t really need the supplies. That there’s a simpler solution.

Much simpler solution.

Daniel sighed and adjusted his hat. Watching over the Sorrows always woke some inner peace in him; Zion had the same effect, being as beautiful as it was. Daniel wished he could stay, but…

He turned to look at the Zion Canyon, spread in front of him like a picture.

But what he actually saw made him stare in shock.

Even though he was stuck in his inner monologue, which usually lasted for a long time (because he usually thought about what could go wrong and there was always a lot of things which could go wrong), his eyes managed to ignore his inner dilema and registered an atypical appearance disturbing the awakening landscape – he saw two persons.

People.

The first one he recognized. The tribal markings of the Dead Horses, the cap – he remembered this particular scout, and if he remembered correctly, his name was Follows-Chalk. The other figure, however, was a whole different story.

First of all, it wasn’t a tribal. It was, very clearly, an outsider – and Daniel knew outsiders. He knew mercenaries, NCR prospectors, raiders. Which one of these was the woman accompanying the scout, that he did not know, but he immediately got that suspicion that she’s up to no good. Maybe he was wrong, of course, and it was wrong to judge someone by the first impression.

But the thing was, first impressions mattered now – and they especially mattered when he had a tribe to protect.

He woke up from his reverie (though he was not sure this was the right term to call it) and headed down from the cliff. He passed some of the Sorrows‘ scouts who gave him confused, questioning looks, meaning that they became aware of the people approaching as well. He simply nodded at them, suggesting that he has the situation under control.

Which he did not.

Once he got in their line of sight again, the scout and the woman saw him too. He finally got a good look on the woman – ashen hair, freckles spread on her face, a hunting rifle on her back. The scout looked mildly distressed, but he seemed to be keen on following her. That, however, didn’t have to mean she posed no danger to him. To the Sorrows.

Daniel thought, and immediately regretted the sentiment – how much better would it be if she run into Joshua instead of him. It surely was strange that her first stop was here, and Daniel just felt his heartbeat getting faster, possesed by fear.

Finally they stood face to face, the woman measuring him with her gaze. He realized that his hand was on his holster, but it was too late to appear charitable now.

„Uh... I apologize if this comes across as a less-than-cordial welcome,“ he said. „But how did you get in here? You from the Mojave?“

The woman opened her mouth, and closed it. It appeared that she was considering what to answer, or more likely, in which way to answer. However, before she actually said anything, Follows-Chalk replied for her: „She came with a caravan, but the White Legs ambushed them! She is the only survivor.“

The woman didn’t say anything, only gave the scout a quick look. A quick one, as if she wanted to keep her eyes on him. Then she finally spoke.

„A Happy Trails Caravan, yeah. If the name rings any bells. Not like it has to anymore. Everyone’s. You know,“ she paused, and added in much quieter voice: „Dead.“

The way she said it made Daniel freeze in the spot for a second. He wasn’t sure if to let go of his holster or just hold it tighter. And yet, another emotion, besides whatever this was, was sympathy.

He decided to put his hand away from his gun.

„That’s,“ he sighed. „I'm so sorry. That's terrible. The tribals, White Legs – we’ve been having a lot of problems with them recently.“

The woman didn’t say anything, so he continued: „In fact, that's why I'm here. I'm Daniel, a New Canaanite missionary to this tribe, the Sorrows. I think it important that you speak to my colleague, Joshua Graham-“

„That’s what I said, but she refused,“ the scout said urgently. The woman scowled and said: „That’s not how I’d put it, I simply decided to seek alternatives.“

Daniel paused. „I – okay. I’d simply feel more comfortable if-“

„No offense, but you’re sending me to Joshua fucking Graham. We came here looking for New Canaanites, not the infamous ex-Legate!“

Daniel blinked few times, slowly. „Joshua Graham is a New Canaanite, just like me. I assure you, he is on our side here.“

„Our side?“ the woman parroted. „You including me in that sentiment as well now, huh?“

„Sentiment?“

„As far as I’m concerned, I’m not on your side. I was supposed to get our caravan to New Canaan, not into this bullshit, so I’d truly prefer getting out of here, you know? Now.“

Daniel nodded, resisting the urge to sigh. He felt like he had enough of her sass for the day and yet, they just began talking. „Listen, I understand that this isn’t what you signed up for. But we didn't ask you to come to Zion. As far as I'm concerned, you're an uninvited guest. In better times, I'd drop everything to help you out, but… these are not those times. And I’d truly prefer if you talked to Joshua about what’s happening here.“

The woman gave him a sharp look. Daniel didn’t know how to properly describe it, but there was hesitation in her eyes, hesitation which very closely reminded Daniel of fear.

Of course.

He could’ve realized it sooner – the courier was hesitating simply because she was afraid of Joshua. Maybe not, of course, but – that look spoke for everything. He’d recognize ít everywhere, specifically because it was residing on faces of all New Canaan inhabitants when he brought Joshua back home, broken, burnt, left to die.

It was only natural, of course. But in this situation, most unwelcome. Daniel gave the woman a long look, thinking about his possibilites.

„You’re injured,“ he suddenly remarked, noticing the wound on her shoulder. It was a simple cut, probably done by White Legs‘ blade, and the woman not being aware of it only proved its triviality; she quickly touched the wound, obviously confused.

„Oh. It’s nothing, really,“ she said.

„Want me to take a look? I’m a doctor. Of sorts.“

„Well…“

„I could fill you in in the meantime. I still think you should at least go to introduce yourself to Joshua, but I can see that you need to understand the situation first.“

The woman finally understood his intention. She gave him a surprised look; honestly, Daniel was surprised himself, but he didn’t want to throw this woman in what she considered a lion’s den. Maybe if he explains her the basics of what’s going on, she won’t be so hesitant about talking to Joshua – and cooperating with Joshua in general.

„Alright, yeah,“ she said. „I think that’d be wise.“

Now it was time for Follows-Chalk to look uneasy. „What should I do then? Should I head back to Joshua and tell him the news?“

„Yes, if you could be so kind,“ Daniel nodded. „Tell him that – um…“

He still didn’t know her name. That was embarrassing.

„A courier,“ the woman chipped in. „Finley.“

„Right, just tell him that Finley will arrive soon and that there’s much for them to discuss, but she’s injured as of now.“

„Can you make it back safe?“ the courier asked.

„I’m going to be okay,“ Follows-Chalk said and smiled. „See you later then, yes? I can not wait!“

The courier nodded, flashing him a smile as well, even though hers was much more hesitant.

With that, Follows-Chalk departed, while the courier and him, with eyes of all the Sorrows on them, entered the Narrows.