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thefactsofthematter · 2 years ago

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delanceys. what is their psychology. why are they the way they are. why do they wanna punch down on those barely a peg below them on the class ladder. why do they hate jack specifically. go go go -@jack-kellys

ty @jack-kellys for enabling me!! i’ll lay down some backstory thoughts here, and i got another ask where i’ll get into my thoughts abt their personalities n stuff!!

okay here we go:

- so. they’re the only people jack knows who spent longer in the refuge than he did. they were already in there the first time he got put in, and didn’t get out until after his second stint there, when wiesel finally came to get them (claiming to be their long-lost uncle, when he really asked snyder if he could take a couple kids to put to work at the newspaper, and was given 14 year old oscar and 12 year old morris just to get them out of the way).

- spending a good chunk of their formative years in jail severely fucked up their worldview and ways of thinking. their dad dropped them off himself, not wanting anything to do with them after their mom died, and they’ve only had each other ever since.

- they spent over 3 years in there, surviving by keeping to themselves and never starting fights, only finishing them. they watched jack constantly mouth off at the guards and go kicking and screaming whenever he got dragged out of the room for some kind of punishment - and they resented him for it, bc the guards would often be much more aggressive and mean after incidents like that. jack kelly came into the refuge, made things worse for everyone, and then found some clever way to sneak out… TWICE. it was infuriating.

- so they finally got out, and started their new job at the world, only to find out that jack fucking kelly was a newsie now, and a popular one at that. he had the same smart mouth that got him in trouble in the refuge, but all it did out here was make the other kids laugh - and he often put it to use against oscar and morris, with cutting comments and mean jokes that felt unwarranted at first, pushing them to really start bullying jack and the newsies in return.

- their job at the newspaper is miserable, but there’s no escaping it - they spend long days counting and bundling papers, and then they have to stand there and hand them out to the newsies, who just seem like they have so much fun. those kids live with their friends in the lodging house, and they roam the streets all day, and they’re always laughing and joking… while oscar and morris share a tiny bedroom at wiesel’s place, and don’t often get to be around anyone other than each other. they’re paid only in room and board - if they were to try to run away and leave the job, they’d be homeless and penniless, with both wiesel and snyder out to chase them down.

- a detail i’m gonna elaborate on eventually is that i think oscar, as the older brother, is much angrier than morris is. his entire life has been about keeping morris safe… something he’s largely failed at. no matter what he does, he’s forced to see his brother scared and hurt and exhausted and beaten-down, practically all the time. morris, while just as big and strong as his brother, is scared of wiesel, scared of snyder, sometimes even scared of oscar’s bad moods and temper, meaning all of oscar’s efforts to protect him typically backfire and make things worse.

- so they’re angry. they punch down because that’s all that’s ever been done to them. they don’t care about anyone other than each other, and they resent jack and the newsies for a life that looks better than their own isolated one, despite knowing that it’s just as hard out there for them. the older they get, the more people they start to take their rage out on - like beating up on trolley strikers, which is the only type of extra work wiesel allows them to pick up in the evenings, or doing snyder’s dirty work and dragging kids to the refuge as some kind of revenge for everything they’ve gone through.

- they suck, right? but in their situation, who wouldn’t? it’s hard to feel bad for them, given how cruel they are in canon, but it’s definitely interesting to take a look at where they might’ve come from. these poor fellas just never managed to catch a break, and it ruined them :(

#i feel like this is pretty standard as far as delancey backstories go tbh but it was fun to piece together my own details #like god. the poor kids never had a chance #morris delancey #oscar delancey #the delancey brothers

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noxexistant · 2 years ago

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Ahhhh waves shyly at the gang and takes breath well!

What if Oscar sees Jack looking at davey like he's hung the sun moon and stars and he gets angry. He gets livid. Because how dare he flaunt his affection like that. He doesn't much care what happens to Kelly the dude had been unpleasant to them. But his open fondness for another man was dangerous for the david fellow who for the most part had been decent to them for his ragtag bunch of misfits who could be targeted but most importantly and Oscar's concern was that morris would see and think that it would be okay for him to find someone. He absolutely couldn't. Oscar couldn't wouldn't sacrifice Morris..... even if that unfortunately meant Morris's happiness must be sacrificed. It was for the greater good.

Oscar wanted the best for Morris they already were destined for a poor life he didn't want Morris's life to be any harder than it already would be. Oscar has half a mind to threaten Kelly make him stop being so nauseously in love. He wanted Morris to have good things...but in the times they lived in it just wasn't probable, and he didn't want Morris to hope,to try and attain that when it would only get him hurt or worse. He had to keep Morris safe. It was the only option.

(psst don’t worry, the gang is very nice. plus my ask box is basically just show and tell at this point, you can bring anything you like in here for me and everyone else to applaud.)

that being said, [SCREAMS]

ouhhh this is so so so good, this is the EXACT oscar and morris dynamic i live off of, and putting them opposite javid is Everything. oscar already hates jack kelly so much - he’s so bold and loud and full of bravado, operates like nothing matters to him, rattles his cage like he doesn’t care at all about who else is in there with him, meanwhile oscar has to sit stock still in his own because morris is in there with him and he’d sooner die than let morris get hurt again. he’s already been hurt so much.

and now here jack goddamn kelly is, once again, leaning on railings and flirting loudly and grinning like an idiot whenever davey jacobs’ eyes are on him. and davey is grinning back. they lean too close to each other as they talk, and stand close enough that their shoulders are always bumping, and when they talk about their plans for the day it’s always the two of them together. they sell together, have lunch together, stand in the damn line at sales together. and, when they think nobody’s looking, the brush hands and tap their foreheads together and smile, this private quiet little thing just for the two of them, and oscar wants them dead. gone, at least. a thousand miles away from where morris could see that and want it for himself. because morris can’t have it for himself - he can’t have a jack kelly who’ll operate with such bravado that most anyone won’t ever question him, and the few that do will be met with the fight to back it all up.

oscar threatens jack and jack doesn’t care, says it’d take nothing short of death to make him stop loving davey - and oscar thinks he’s full of shit. but then he sees jack and davey again in the street, sees jack soaking someone who said something derogatory or went for davey. oscar’s forced to rationalise that morris could be loved by someone, someone who wanted to protect him just like oscar does, but that’d mean trusting someone and oscar can’t do that. morris can, with time and the bare minimum of kindness, but that’s half the problem. if oscar trusted someone, morris loved someone, who then hurt morris? oscar’d never forgive himself. never forgive anyone. it’d be the last straw on the large pile of straws that’s been oscar and morris’ whole life.

with your blessing, i would absolutely looooove to write this as a fic :’)

#answered #anonymous #oscar delancey #morris delancey #javid #my writing

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beevean · 2 years ago

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Just post your Hecula rant you coward >:(

LET'S GOOOOOOOOO

I am embolded by the sheer amount of Dracula/Jonathan (harker, not morris) content floating around, I think people have realized by now that I'm a disgusting degenerate who very much likes the trope of "creepy ass old man falling in 'love' with a young boy/girl under his thumb" :'D

So this is a translation of this post, which I translated because I noticed some people seem to be interested in Hecula :)

Obviously there's going to be extensive talk of grooming and abuse.

It's hilarious how I fell into this rareship hell simply because

I memed too much about everyone in CoD wanting to fuck Hector (which is true and I can prove it);

no i will never stop using this image it awakened something in me worse than the Stabbing Scene

And then yeah, everything fell apart :'D

First of all I just want to say one thing: if CoD was more famous in the fandom, many more fans would accept the idea that Dracula fucked his Generals in between genocides. C'mon man, the set up is perfect. Y'all are cowards, I tell you :P

But other than that, it is interesting to compare the differences between Isaacula and Hecula.

Isaacula is your typical villain/simp ship. Isaac adores Dracula, he's literally crazy for him, he would destroy himself for him, and Dracula is like, "okay". Personally I like the idea that Dracula is perfectly aware of how much Isaac worships him (not that Isaac even tries to hide it lol), and takes the opportunity to manipulate him just the right amount... and c'mon, if a pretty boy offered himself to you like this, what would you do, not take advantage of the situation? 👀 But he sees Isaac as he would see… I dunno, his throne? It's there, it belongs to him, no one would touch it, he doesn't have to do anything else. It's not interesting.

Hector is interesting. Hector is a prodigy in the art of Devil Forging. Hector is a skilled fighter. Hector is smart (and so is Isaac, but he's a lot more emotional so he may seem dumber). Hector, after a childhood spent believing he didn't deserve to exist, is now realizing his own worth. Cold, proud, obedient Hector, without Isaac's fanaticism but far more efficient, and just as grateful to his benefactor.

I think there is a possibility for Dracula to be attracted to Hector. And yes, the mental image of him suddenly realizing one day that the shy little boy who one day knocked on his front door has grown to be such a handsome man in a short time makes me want to bite the flesh off my arms and it drives me insane <3

Not only that, but if I really wanted to be cynical, I could also point this out:

Speaking of Leon, I can now get to the point of what I call the Bride Hector AU: Dracula, gone insane with grief over the loss of Lisa, clings to Hector tooth and nail (literally lmao) and insists on using him as a substitute for his wife.

It has been pointed out to me that, in that scene in LoI where Mathias proposes to Leon to join him in immortality, his goal may also have been to replace Elisabetha with his best friend. Mathias was clearly out of his mind with grief, and he trusted Leon, and he couldn't even comprehend that Leon maybe didn't want anything more to do with him. He just wanted company. He didn't want to experience his immortality alone.

But Leon was free to tell him to go fuck himself, rightfully so.

Hector, who is as handsome as Leon, as strong as Leon, and as dear to Dracula as Leon used to be (although in different ways, the two are not friends obv) does not have this freedom. Hector swore allegiance to Dracula, Hector became one of the strongest creatures in the world thanks to Dracula, and he still trusts the only person who granted him the right to exist.

Hector should be grateful to Dracula.

So, don't you think that kissing him isn't the least he can do to his Lord to compensate for all that he has given him? Or offering his neck? Or accepting to be brought to Lisa's old bedroom? :)

It's very, very easy for Dracula to get Hector to give him what he wants, even if Hector doesn't reciprocate Dracula's feelings at all. He doesn't need tricks or magic, he can simply exploit the loyalty of a poor boy who has no one else, and who by now is so used to being his Lord's favorite that he can't even consider disappointing him.

On the other hand, at the heart of it all there's an old man unable to move on. As a vampire, he's frozen in time, and it's very difficult for him to accept change. He became a vampire in the midst of grieving the loss of his first wife, and now he has lost his second one too? He can't do it. He can't handle the pain. He breaks. He needs someone.

And Hector just so happens to be right here, this pretty boy who can be seduced, who can help him feel less alone.

After Lisa's death, Dracula becomes... protective. Very protective. He will no longer allow anyone, not even God Himself, to take away the only light of his life. Which not only means protecting Hector from all the beasts that would dare to harm him or worse, but also making sure that the boy doesn't slip away from him. Dracula has complete control over his castle and all its residents... so Hector, love, you better be nice and don't do things that might displease your Lord :) like, for example, running back to Isaac, who meanwhile he's dying inside of jealousy :) oh, but don't worry, you're the favorite, so nothing will happen to you! But Isaac will take the fall :) so he will hate you even more, and your relationship will break down, and Hector will truly have no one left but his Lord :)

Or his husband :)

Dracula loses it more and more, he needs Lisa, he needs to feel sure that he will never be left alone again. He gets the morbid idea of marrying Hector and calling him his wife, even giving him the wedding ring that used to belong to that poor woman whom Hector might have seen as a mother figure. He can't escape. Now his Lord is his husband and Hector must behave accordingly, and if Dracula wants to be called by his first name and pet names while he fucks Hector on Lisa's bed, well, he has to do it. What can he do about it, say no? Hahahaha you're so funny <3

(A little appreciated perk is that, as a Devil Forgemaster, Hector is far tougher than a normal human, and he can conjure Fairies to heal most of his wounds. A perfect match for a ten-feet-tall cold vampire with sharp fangs and claws :) you're welcome, Hector dear <3)

Hector, needless to say, has a hard time clinging to his sanity. He doesn't want any of this. He doesn't want to be the sex toy of the person he once could have seen as a father, he doesn't want him to suck his blood so often that he's practically anemic by now (because, among other things, let's not forget that he still has to work), he doesn't want all these scars around his neck that almost form a collar he can't take off, he doesn't want Isaac to hate him and envy him for a situation he refuses to understand, he wants to be seen as Hector, as a person.

But he can't hate Dracula. Dracula isn't cruel with him, he just needs some help. Dracula did some good things too after all, and it's true that Hector can't live anywhere else, because only Dracula appreciates and accepts him. There is still a small part of Hector, the boy who was stoned by his peers and slapped by his mother, who still loves Dracula, to a certain extent.

But the more Dracula degenerates, the more the outside world doesn't seem so terrifying, compared to the madness of his Lord...

He's not Isaac. He is loyal and obedient, but he's not willing to objectify himself to this extent.

In short, I really really like this kind of dynamic, an older man seducing a younger person into a relationship of trust and dependency, until the younger person escapes and takes their life back into their own hands <3 and yes, while the idea of the older man thinking of the other as simply a warm body to fuck is appealing in its own right, I'm growing to love the alternative of him instead falling in "love", but it's a twisted, selfish, all consuming love.

tl;dr: hecula hot

And just in case, I have written 4 fanfics to explore these ideas :)

If you have a good tool, you use it, don't you?

It is forbidden to touch the Lord's belongings

Honeymoon (technically a spoiler but I long gave up on that)

Shame (the only fully SFW fic so far lmao)

#hecula #long post #c'mon guys i lost 5 followers in a row the last time i reblogged hecula content #let's get to 10 this time let me really know how much you think i'm disgusting <3 #yes i do swing between 'i'm so ashamed of myself' and 'who gives a shit cringe is dead and i'm free'

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dawnfire360 · 5 years ago

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Twenty minutes later they met a knight, on foot. He was soaking wet, and three brightly dyed feathers that once must have waved jauntily above his head were stuck to the side of his helm like drying plaster. One of the feathers, crimson in color, had bled dye in a pinkish line down onto the knight's shoulders. As their little cavalcade approached, the walking knight removed his helm and stared at them. "Gawain?" "Good morning, Griflet. You've...um...been bathing?"

The Princess, the Crone, and the Dung-Cart Knight, by Gerald Morris

#Gerald Morris #King Arthur #The Princess the Crone and the Dung-Cart Knight #Sir Gawain #Sir Griflet #Squire's Tales #the Squire's Tales #I can't guarantee that this man is having a worse day than you are but then again he might be #in the hopes this brightens someone's day for a moment #general recommendation for Gerald Morris' books in general #oh my god you can move tags now fantastic #do you know how many times I forgot a tag that should have gone earlier and had to either erase everything or just put it later and deal wit #with it #...is there a tag length limit #that seems new #me going on a long ramble in the tags is not new #helloooo again #I'm going to stop now #but hopefully I'll put up a few more of these at some point #although I have fewer of his books around than usual unfortunately

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scratchandplaster · 2 years ago

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Stack The Deck - PART 9

CW: regretful Whumper, Lima syndrom, trauma, paranoia

PART 8 ⇽ [Masterlist] ⇾ PART 10

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Things had gone worse during the short break they took from each other. Morris came back to look at him, silent and frantic, while gathering his luggage.

Everything went by quickly after that, Elliot being lifted from the mattress and stashed away in the Civic's backseat, waiting to be picked up. He couldn't overhear the mysterious call Morris made in the next room, but whoever he spoke to made quite an impact on his behavior. Amber; she had to be it this time. He deserved to live after all, the high court decided.

Wordlessly, Morris had joined him in the car just moments later. Quiet curses roamed through the space between, his eyes always fixed on the man in the windshield's reflection.

It felt like a dream, entering the daylight again. Melting snow coated the meadows and industrial structures that slipped past them with anxious pace, hinting at the first signs of winter. It's Sunday, he realized, the first Advent.

Just a few more rehearsals, and their performance would be flawless. He couldn't wait to see the joy they always brought to the audience, the more reserved admirers of their art had their own way to express that.

Suddenly, the car came to a stop. Elliot faintly recognized the area, a few miles away from suburbia; he was closer to home than he imagined. As he admired the gentle blanket of white that glazed the street, an ice-cold gust of air surprised him. Morris pushed himself out of the driver's side to open the rear door, with a firm grab on his coat collar, he was pulled out to stand.

"Up you go, Ell!"

The soft crunch of snow underneath felt surreal, like it didn't belong there. Swaying lightly in the frosty breeze, boiling up from the inside but breathing out nothing more than little clouds, Elliot was held up by strong hands.

It was Advent Sunday in the deserted wilderness, nobody in sight. A perfect place to get rid of someone.

With a painful frown in his features, Morris continued to search for eye contact and was rewarded with a glassy stare. He prayed to never meet him again, to be something else than the stopgap.

"Ell, you're a decent guy. I wished we had met under nicer circumstances."

Silence. Elliot thought about spring, and his mother. He doesn't call often enough.

"I will end your life, if any of this gets to the authorities."

Nodding synchronously to his heartbeat, he didn't dare to take the chance.

It's a trick, he's going to put a bullet into my head the second I turn around. The fact that Morris was way more fond of everything that could stab didn't convince him otherwise. It's a trick.

"I thought - you know, I had this whole plan made up... Fuck! It's going to be okay." Pulling the sad piece of dried up cotton out of his pocket, Morris began draping the scarf around Elliot's neck, back to its original purpose. Fingers plucked at it, fluffing it up and around to offer the best protection.

"Listen, it doesn't matter how you feel about me right now, the second you're downtown, you need to go to a hospital."

"Yeah." A caw was all he would get out anymore.

"Nonono, listen. You go to the ER and tell them you, I don't know, slammed your hand in a car door. They won't believe a word, but that doesn't matter. Stick to that story, and they will stop asking eventually."

Morris had other worries right now, planning to delete all his unnoticed messages before anyone would lay an eye on it, a witness to his failure.

"Don't call her, okay? That's not your problem anymore."

Amber didn't use to be his problem for quite a while, actually, not until two days ago. He had pressed her and the little quirks she brought far away, the walls had ripped open now, bleeding inside and out.

Brown eyes dead focused on the asphalt, skin red with infection.

"Okay?"

Only nodding, again.

"Two miles, this way," Morris whispered closely and pointed to the steeple in the distance. It was a fast gesture, nearly over in a blink of an eye, but Elliot could still sense the firm hug Morris gave him, pressing into his shoulders to send shockwaves down his spine.

"In another life, I'm sure we would've had a great time together, right?" Putting the phone back into Elliot's pocket, Amber's number deleted just in case, he held the weak figure at his waist to keep it upright. There was a lot to say, an apology or maybe just a lonely goodbye, but nothing came over Morris' lips.

The pressure left Elliot, standing on his own. It would happen any second, he knew that now, a quick stab between the ribs to let it all out. Morris wouldn't drag this out, he was a decent man too, after all. Watching the sky, blues and grays mixing together in the morning sun, he waited for the end of his suffering.

The motor that never stopped running sounded so far away suddenly, just a buzz in the shell of his ear. He waited.

I don't call mom often enough, really.

Through the back mirror, Morris traced the abandoned man at the edge of the road. He looked so tiny against the open nature, vulnerable to the forces of nature.

Even if he had the nerve left to look at the license plates, he seemed to pass on this opportunity. They would be changed in the near future anyway. Before making it around a curve, he could see how his legs started to stumble forward, too bruised and stiff to bend correctly, but still going. He was expected back home; at least that he had to get right, the rest was irrelevant.

--------

Elliot couldn't remember how he made it back to his apartment building, the world drifted around him in a blur of colors. At one point, he carried himself into a subway station, leaning against the handrails like a wasted lunatic.

He heard laughter far away, normally anxious it could be about him, but these thoughts were nowhere near. He was glad nobody spoke to him, no help, no nervous interest. Morris would be back, and everyone who suspected foul play regarding the injuries put themselves at the same risk he lived through.

Just me, just me and nobody else. Nobody can know-

Struggling to get the door open, his forehead pressed violently against the wood to keep balance, until the keys finally slipped in to enter the only place left untainted. With a clumsy kick of his foot, it slammed shut again.

Elliot would have fallen asleep, if a silent hop hadn't greeted him near instantly. It felt wrong to have Ginkgo's soft hair next to his agony-ridden body, her noiseless presence coming over him in a wave of peace. She must have been starving by now, neglected for days.

What am I even good for?

Silently apologizing over and over again, he let his unmarked hand pet over her back, smearing wayward fluids all through her precious gray-brown fur. Any minute now, it's not safe.

So caught in his fear he tasted at the back of his throat, he tried to remember something that was promised just a few minutes earlier.

The rabbit's tiny snout nibbled and licked at his elbow, kissing away some scattered drops of blood. Oh, I forgot the yogurt drops.

Half of him wasn't present anymore, gone with time. He was a stain on the mattress, a pool on the bathroom floor. It's a trick, he will come back again. Lost in the feverish heat of his own grimy body, he continued to lay still, only being roused by Ginkgo from time to time.

I need to feed her.

Acting on autopilot again, his body moved towards the pantry. He watched himself fill her bowl up with fresh water along with hay and her usual muesli, ending the basic task by sitting next to her on the floor, breathing heavily.

"You're okay," he gasped, not sure who of the two he meant, "you're going to be okay!"

The whole left side of his body was numb, its mere existence scrapped from the mind's perception, like it didn't belong to him.

He needed to prepare for his captor's return: barricade the door, get a knife - a hammer, anything to protect himself. Later, his screaming muscles dictated, letting the husk of a person sink into the ground beneath.

Elliot was allowed to rest now, although his suffering was for nothing. Alas, that's the nature of it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Febuwhump 2023 Masterlist]

@febuwhump, @whatwasmyprevioususername

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nought-shall-go-ill · 2 years ago

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(For @jilytoberfest’s Prompt 16: “I can never hate you.)

“You must hate me,” she said, throwing his mother’s beloved jewellery box into the fire. The material of it frothed and swirled in the heat, melting in almost no time at all.

From the pain Lily felt, she might as well have thrown herself in with it.

“It’s for the best, Lily. We have to get going.”

After her, James threw in his childhood brooms, a few old school books, badly drawn pictures from his infant years. It was as if they were erasing the James Potter of the past 20 years out of existence also, incinerating the remnants of the memories he had made — many they had made together.

“Should we take the sheets at least?” she asked. In her hands was a faded duvet of William Morris print. She held it like one would a newborn baby, cradling it to her chest.

“I— I guess we can if you want, Lily. But there will be sheets there, I think.”

“This was probably where they were conceived,” she mumbled into the fabric, hiding her tears.

Was it so ridiculous to be so attached to an item that only might have significance? Was she really all that sensitive wanting to hold onto something tangible when everything else felt so up in the air?

“Maybe, yeah,” he whispered back softly, embracing her in a tight hug.

He would let her keep it, even though he shouldn’t.

“I’ll burn it,” she decided, tossing it in with the rest of the items.

Magical fire was so much stronger than Muggle fire, and it was gone in an instant.

“We’ll get another. Make new memories. Better memories!” James said into her ear, kissing her gently between each sentence.

Would they? They were being sent away to live in a safe house, their unborn child not even in this world yet and already a destined prisoner. New memories felt inevitable, but could they truly beat the past ones?

“Yeah, that would be nice,” she finally relented, unsure entirely what was hormones and what was reality at this point. “Still most of this is yours, James. The Potters… You’ve had this stuff for centuries?”

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Lily wondered if Petunia truly did sell all her items — “all that nonsense that gets in the way!” — as she had always threatened.

“About time we got some new stuff then, don’t you think?”

Sometimes James Potter was the only thing that kept her from crying every hour of the day.

“Still, you must hate me, James. This is my fault.”

She was the one who had forgotten to take the correct procedures. She was the one who had blabbed about the baby’s due date. She was the one who was stupid enough to think this was a good thing in the middle of a war.

“Don’t you dare! I can never hate you, Lily. Never.”

James tossed in the rest of the items, the place they once called home now well and truly bare.

It was safer this way. The Death Eaters would realise soon, stampede the house soon. It was better the pair got rid of the items than any of them get their hands on them.

Or worse.

“Quite the opposite,” James crooned into the crook of her neck. “I love you, and I love the baby. And this awful, but it is temporary. And… well, let’s treat it like a renewal, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s do that,” she just barely smiled, twisting around and offering him her hand.

He took it.

The clothes on their backs, the bags on their shoulders, the baby and each other were now all they had.

And Lily would cry from time to time, remembering those old items, remembering the significance they represented and how easily they were cut from existence. But the next eighteen months also taught her how little they mattered — how little they, she and James, even mattered — and what mattered instead was the fleeting moments they accumulated around the items, loving and fighting and accepting and just being.

Lily and James’ lives were also fleeting, their time together as a family even more so. Like brittle blossoms in a vast-acred forest, to some it was as if they were barely there at all, barely mattering to the significance of history. But among those who had seen them in their full bloom — in those moments of happiness they spent with their son, through the hope they never relented through it all — it was etched into their very world just how much they mattered, those brave fleeting soldiers of war.

And though the boy could not remember it, it was those brave fleeting soldiers that brought him to the forest again 17 years later, the love — and not the hate — they had given him blazing through his veins.

#jilytober 2022 #jily #jily fic #the fleeting #does that sound a little bit like a horror movie name?#perhaps #but I became inspired and wrote this in rapid speed on the train #apologies and also enjoy!#(sorry for the angsty angsty pain)

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lucianalight · 3 years ago

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Tag Game

Rules: Tag 9 people you want to know better.

Thanks for tagging me in this post @tori-artemis !😊❤️

Three Ships: Frostiron(Loki/Tony Stark), I love their dynamic both in a platonic or romantic way - Deckerstar(Lucifer Morningstar/Chloe Decker) From Lucifer tv series - Ineffable husbands(Crowley/Aziraphale), I ship them in a qpr way.

First Ever Ship: Rhett/Scarlett from Gone with the Wind.

Last Song: Breath by Breaking Benjamin.

Last Movie: I watched Hotel Transylvania 4 which was bad. It was even worse than the third movie which is saying sth. Because while the third one was bad, it still had some good moments like the DJ battle at the end was really funny *takes a deep breath* don't start a rant on Hotel Transylvania out of everything *visibly restraint myself* Anyway, since I was disappointed I went and watched the other Hotel Transylvania movies again :D Because I really love Dracula! He always makes me laugh :)) and I needed sth light and fun to balance the heavy subjects I'd read.

Currently Reading: Cilka's Journey by Heather Morris(It's a sequel to The Tattooist of Auschwits) - The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood - The Rooting of the Ancient Tree by Bahram Beyzai(It's a research about the Indo-Iranian roots of One Thousand and One Nights and the similarities between its main story and the story of Zahhak)- I'm also beta reading the Loki Rewrite project.

Currently Watching: I'm not in the mood to start watching a new tv show. For now I'm just waiting for the next episode of Legacies(no it's not good :P :D ).

Currently Consuming: Pomegranate.

Currently Craving: Pomegranate sauce which I'm eating with my Pomegranate :D

Tagging: @marril96 @crzyprsn42 @illwynd @iamnmbr3 @rosalysaoirse @latent-thoughts @stellophia @therese-lokidottir @bookworm-addict and anyone who wants to play!

#tag game #get to know me #personal

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tuxedokit · 2 years ago

Note

can you explain the Be More Psychic AU?

ill try my best !!! its, uh. its snowballed a lot from what it was, so here we go

be more chill SQUIPS, but psychonauts. more detailed under cut

at some point in the distant past, otto invented these things called PSI-SQUIPS, cause everything has a psi-prefix and leeping the SQUIP name makes it recognizeable. essentially, theyre similar to astralathes, in that theyre psychic devices to help you alter parts of yourself. though these are more "personal trainers" in that respect, rather than directly altering things, they implant in your mind and guide and direct you. still, not necessarily safe, and the idea was eventually abandoned. not before they were stocked in the otto-matic, hidden beneath layers of security and a high price. the notes for how to access them were lost amongst the notes in an old lab

cut to sometime during psychonauts 2. gisu, otto's mentee, is tasked with cleaning one of his old labs. while cleaning it, she finds these notes. she decides to investigate at some point, for science. at some point she activates one, using it on herself. it seems to be helpful, so maybe she tells morris about it. it couldnt hurt, right? i mean, this thing has really helped her with her focus.

flash forward post psychonauts 2. its been a couple months, the aquatos have been staying in the QA for a while, and things have settled into a new normal. a couple of the interns have been acting a little weird, but its probably nothing, right? i mean, trauma. thats probably it. dion hasnt apologized to raz for her shitty treatment of him, and generally has been going through it. it may have been a month or two or more, but the revelations are still hitting hard, and everyones recovering slowly. dion wants nothing more than to be a better sibling, better child, but... they dont know how.

and norma's been acting awfully sweet. dions met her a couple times before, and she was usually so... bitter. but now, sickeningly sweet. lizzie says shes been a better sister recently... dion is desperate. she wants to know how norma did it.

the PSI-SQUIP spreads.

dion asks it to help her be a better sister, brother, daughter, son. it instructs her. "cause no problems. listen to your parents, dont bother them, dont defy them. apologize to raz." "how? ive been so awful... where do i begin?"

gisu is seeing the effect its having on her friends all around her. oh god, this is getting out of hand. she asks her PSI-SQUIP, the leader, how to stop it. silly gisu. you cant.

in the meantime, siblings can tell something is off. dion is acting... wrong. they were already a bit of a "yes man" for mom and dad, but now... its. its hard to explain. somethings... somethings wrong. something is wrong. dion has a conversation with frazie at some point, about how "i have this thing that could help you feel better!" "about what?" "anything!" ...frazies not buyin it. she politely declines. okay, whatever. if frazie doesnt want her big brothers advice, too bad. its time to say youre sorry. time to find raz

it turns out, norma had already issued an apology of her own. dion is fed the script, an apology raz finds... eerily familiar. raz approaches the senior agents with his concerns. they say theyll help, but seem... dismissive. he also tells lili about his worries, and the two decide to investigate together.

raz and lili go to otto, gisu, anyone who isnt infected with... whatever this is. they start trying to find a solution

hollis is planning something. an event, of sorts? who knows the specifics, its not important. probably

dion, meanwhile, feels as though she screwed up worse somehow. following a script? really? the PSI-SQUIP is condescending, try again then it says. yeah. no. dion is tasked with talking to augustus. (a valid host)

gisu tries to resist. this has gone too far. poor gisu. it has only just begun

raz, lili, and their little resistance have a plan. otto will activate a PSI-SQUIP, take it down from the inside. it doesnt work, theyve evolved. the PSI-SQUIPS have become more than what otto made. stronger. malicious. a forgotten entity, left to rot. growing a mind of its own, a will of its own, a plan. they wind up having to enter ottos mind to fight it. they find they need to stop it at the source. the host. the leader.

days of resistance and torture build up and boil over for gisu. she breaks. the whole motherlobe shorts out, along with her PSI-SQUIP.

something changes in dion. just a bit. (the leader has decided on its host. gisu trusted dion. dion was regarded as incredibly competent.)

hollis' event is approaching. gisu stumbles into the lab of the resistance, frazzled. she knows whos infected and who isnt. she knows hollis is compromised. they assume hollis is the new host. they prepare.

it wants to spread. augustus declines. hes left wondering what the hell is going on with his kid.

dion tries to resist it. zap zap. now knowing this thing is capable of harm, dion makes an agreement. "dont fuck with my family and were cool." cool.

#carpet shut up challenge #psychonauts #be more psychic

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tammyisobsessedwith · 3 years ago

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Songs for my MCs

Thanks for the tag @i-boop-you @noahsthottie @crimswnred @banirareiko 😘

Tagging @mrsbsmooth @willkimura

This is a little weird for me, because almost everything I wrote is already a song fic or it involves an unnamed, nondescript MC lol But I wanted to do this anyway

Season 2 MC* (A Real Relationship)

*I never physically describe her as it’s second person narrative (which I so regret nowadays as it’s so freaking hard to write) but in my head her name is Emma

🎶 Lost And Found, by Katie Herzig

I know you left me standing there Out of the calm of the coldest air I don’t believe the words you said But I can’t find the words I want (…) Somebody found me here Somebody held my breath Somebody saved me from the world you left If you’re gonna cry my tears If you’re gonna hold my breath If you’re gonna save me from the sun you set Oh I am lost and found

🎶 IDGAF, by Dua Lipa

You say you’re sorry but it’s too late now So save it, get gone, shut up ‘Cause if you think I care about you now Well boy I don’t give a fuck

She’s a duality, as she’s set on leaving Rahim and all that mess behind, so she tries to give off IDGAF energy but deep down she was really hurt and is very grateful for having someone backing her in her most vulnerable moment.

Tammy (Meet Me in the Afterglow)

This is already a songfic for Taylor Swift’s Afterglow, but those lyrics are more from Will to Tammy, so I thought of this from her pov.

🎶 The Middle, by Zedd, Maren Morris & Grey

Take a seat Right over there, sat on the stairs Stay or leave The cabinets are bare and I’m unaware Of just how we got into this mess, got so aggressive I know we meant all good intentions So pull me closer Why don’t you pull me close? Why don’t you come on over? I just can’t let you go Oh baby, why don’t you just meet me in the middle? I’m losing my mind just a little So why don’t you just meet me in the middle?

🎶 1000 Times, by Sara Bareilles

I wouldn’t wanna tell you, no tell you no Nothing could be worse than the risk of Losing what I don’t have now And we could buy the minute though is it so bad If I wanna cry out That I would die to make you mine? Bleed me dry almost every time But I don’t mind, no I don’t mind, no I would come back a thousand times Make me wait forever Push me away and tell me never But I don’t mind, no I don’t mind I would come back a thousand times

As someone who falls in love with Will, Tammy (that’s me) is a little bit of a masochist and a messy drama queen masquerading as someone who has her shit together and this pair has massive communication issues that hopefully they’re working through after the big Dylan fight lol

Season 2 MC** (Secret Moments in a Crowded Room)

**Other unnamed, nondescript MC, in my head her name is Isabella - she’s about to feature in another story I’m working on 👀

Also already written as a songfic for Taylor Swift’s Dress, but this is another side to the same story.

🎶 The Heart Wants What It Wants, by Selena Gomez

You got me scattered in pieces Shining like stars and screaming Lighting me up like Venus But then you disappear and make me wait And every second’s like torture Heroin drip, no more so Finding a way to let go Baby, baby no, I can’t escape The bed’s getting cold and you’re not here The future that we hold is so unclear But I’m not alive until you call And I’ll bet all odds against it all Save your advice ‘cause I won’t hear You might be right but I don’t care There’s a million reasons why I should give you up But the heart wants what it wants

🎶 One Kiss, by Calvin Harris with Dua Lipa

Something in you Lit up heaven in me The feeling won’t let me sleep ‘Cause I’m lost in the way you move, the way you feel One kiss is all it takes Fallin’ in love with me Possibilities I look like all you need

This girl got herself into a mess with Noah without her meaning to, but now she’s gonna go for it ‘cause what else has she got to lose? Even if he’d chosen Hope at the previous recoupling, through all those moments with him and with his expressing doubt right after, so she’s using the Hearts Racing challenge to check it out once and for all. She hasn’t been afraid to go after what she wants before and she’s not gonna start now - and it’s about to pay off.

Lily (Let It Grow)

I’ve barely started writing her story (I promise I have stuff in my drafts that I’m working on!), but I feel this is the stage she’s at.

🎶 thank u, next, by Ariana Grande

One taught me love One taught me patience One taught me pain Now I’m so amazing Say I’ve loved and I’ve lost But that’s not what I see So look what I got Look what you taught me And for that I say Thank you, next

🎶 Real Friends, by Camila Cabello and Swae Lee

No, I think I’ll stay in tonight Skip the conversations and the oh-I’m-fines No, I’m no stranger to surprise This paper town has let me down too many times Why do I even try? Give me a reason why I thought that I could trust you, never mind Why all the switching sides? Where do I draw the line? I guess I’m too naive to read the signs I’m just looking for some real friends

She’s not surprised by the turn of events and even though it hurts, she wants to move on, surrounding herself with the people who actually care for her - and one of them might surprise her in lots of ways pretty soon.

Season 2 MC* (Panic at the Mansion)

*Yet another unnamed MC, this is a different version of Emma (yes, my MCs who end up with Bobby are always Emma, no it’s not ‘cause of Em @i-boop-you just a coincidence I promise lol)

🎶 Say You Won’t Let Go, by James Arthur

I wanna live with you Even when we’re ghosts ‘Cause you were always there for me When I needed you most I’m gonna love you till my lungs give out I promise till death we part Like in our vows So I wrote this song for you Now everybody knows That it’s just you and me Until we’re grey and old Just say you won’t let go

🎶 Foolish, by Meghan Trainor

This ain’t no one night stand Want yo’ picture on my nightstand Be my lover, be my best friend Put that bling bling on my left hand Saying, “what kinda love you gon’ put on me? ‘Cause your last name sounds good on me” (…) They say that fools rush in But I oh I, I wanna be foolish with you

This MC is Bobby’s best match, they’ve been a power couple from day 1 in the Villa, they’re each other’s best friend and she doesn’t care if people thought they were moving too fast because she knows this is it, she’s done.

#litg #love island the game #tag game #litg mc #litg fanfic #song fic

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aarcanechaoss · 2 years ago

Text

3. Burn Butcher Burn

Masterlist

Tahlia has had a rough week and definitely needs more alcohol

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, sexual innuendo and wounds

Note: Read THIS for context on the meeting

Tahlia was angry beyond measure.

Captain Jack was just as pissed.

What kind of bullshit meeting was that? Her first week as Vice-Captain and she already wanted to throw the snobby elitist bastards across the country.

What kind of asshole implies her a whore and then insults her further by mocking her disfigurement. *Working for a pretty penny is what you did best right? So, you should understand. Though I doubt with hands like that it got you far.* Next time Tahlia sees Gueldre Poizot she’s going to…

A hand rests on her shoulder, pulling her from thought. Jack’s face is tight, angrier than she’s ever seen and yet it warms a part of her icy heart- the part she had cut off from the world years ago.

“I’m…” He began. “I’m sorry about the meeting… that’s never happened before, and I am disgusted by what the whale said.” He looked awkward, stumbling over his words, trying to comfort her.

“Don’t apologise for something that was not your fault. Thank you for getting defensive of me but I did work in a bar… unfortunately I have heard worse.”

“Still.” Jack said, his brows furrowing more.

“Plus… finally got Iris to raise her voice.” She snickered, deterring the conversation for them both.

“You know her? I’ve only ever seen her hiding behind Vangeance keke.”

“I know her well… She’s a shy lass and she can probably drink Yami under the table but she’s very sweet. Used to come to my market stalls and buy the trinkets I made and hand them out to the orphanage, but like I said very shy.”

“Drink Yami under the table? Keke.” Jack snickers. “Now that I’d like to see.”

“I’ll invite them out for drinks one day.” Tahlia mused.

The air fell cold again.

“That’ll never happen again under my watch keke.” Jack says seriously. Tahlia only smiled and patted the hand still resting on her shoulder.

“Thank you.” She says again, softer this time. It’s been years since anyone stood up for her- even when she can take care of herself.

Morris Sommar had offered to cook dinner that night, Finn and Damian offering to help- to cover for Tahlia who had taken to cooking every Friday. Both Captain and Vice-Captain- though both in foul moods- hadn’t expected to see them working together… considering last weeks debacle when Tahlia was unofficially made the Vice-Captain of the Green Mantis. It was nice to see that no fights had broken out at the base while they were gone.

“Captain, Vice… We made a roasted duck with mashed potatoes… I hope that’s good enough.” Morris had greeted them first. It was an unusual sight, seeing him covered in stray food and… is that flour? Over the last few months, he always seemed so prim, proper and collected, as is the life of nobles, but here he was grinning ear to ear as he presented the meal he had made (his brother huffing in the corner in annoyance) to his leaders.

“Well, I’m famished, and I have to say it smells great boy.” Tahlia said.

“Keke, I’m hungry lets get in and eat.” Jack added, guiding the much smaller woman towards the dining room- Morris walking behind, blushing from Tahlia’s praise.

~~*~~

The next few days felt like a blur of paperwork and lack of sleep- Tahlia isn’t sure if she actually ate a full meal and going by Damian’s worried looks she probably hadn’t (though the teen had taken his healer duties much more serious as of late).

She had days like this, she always had days where she threw herself into anything and everything just so she could keep her mind at bay.

She saw gruesome things over the years… years that flew by so fast that she barely remembers her own age some days. She’s heard terrible things (far worse than the insinuation that was laced in Poizot’s words) that would disgust even the worst people.

Nothing compared to the nightmares though. A nightmare that would start with her smooth uncrooked hands in a tangle of white hair, sweet kisses and a swell in her belly… a nightmare that ended in red.

She awoke with a start, a yelp leaving her lips against her wishes. She could feel Jack’s eyes on her as she slumped back into her chair. She’d fallen asleep amongst her paperwork and Jack hadn’t woken her up.

“What was that? Keke.” He asked, his scared eye widening comically as he waited for her to answer him.

“A knot in my neck.” She said, crooked fingers kneading into the knotted muscle along her neck. “Must have slept weird.”

“Have a break from all this paperwork for a bit. Ariadne sent a message an hour ago to remind you about getting drinks.” Her Captain said, clearly not believing her at all but he had a policy, if they didn’t want to talk then he didn’t push- granted he isn’t the cosiest person around he still listened… then sliced.

“Perhaps a break is a good idea… how, no, why do we have so much paperwork anyway?”

“Beats me.” He shrugged. “Now, keke, go before I slice you.”

Tahlia only laughed; she didn’t believe he would.

~~*~~

Ariadne was sat in their spot, just as she is every second Saturday afternoon, unless there is a mission… today’s only difference was the third pint at their table. Tahlia only raised her brow as she made her way through the slowly growing bar, an amass of thick white hair catching her eye- Ariadne had invited Iris along it seemed… or dragged her into being social.

“Ladies.” Tahlia greeted as she took her seat on the old word wooden seat. “How’s things?”

“I think my squad is aiming to beat Yami’s in having negative stars.” Ariadne groaned out immediately. “How hard is it to not destroy property?”

“The Mantis’ are just as bad… gods we’ve had so much paperwork I don’t think I can function.” Tahlia grumbled as she grasped a handful of mixed nuts, tilting her head back to eat them. “Our issue is the nobles though… thinking they are tough shit and all that.”

“Yeah that brings me to the question of the week… how did you become Vice?” Ariadne snorted; it was still so unbelievable to her. Iris only nodded her head quickly- she wanted to know as well.

“Fine.” The short woman huffed. “I got mad at the brats who weren’t doing their part of the chores, told the kids who do help me to leave the mess left behind, went and spoke to Jack, the others came crashing in, I got mad and threatened to throw them across the kingdom, someone yelled out that the VC can’t do that, we went back and forth of me saying that I wasn’t and them thinking I was and then boom Jack decided I was.”

“Wow.” Iris said, blue eyes wide as she stared on.

“Yeah that makes some sense.” Ariadne shrugged.

“So, what are you doing here Glamour girl?” Tahlia questioned.

Iris flinched as the conversation shifted, her face blooming a bright red.

“Capt- William asked me to accompany him thr-through town and then Ariadne stole me away. He said he’d pick me up in two hours.”

“Ooh William huh?” Ariadne teased- it only made the younger of the three women blush harder. “He’s even picking you up? Oooh.”

“He asked me to call him that after the last meeting.” Iris answered. Tahlia and Ariadne just smirked. “And he’s only picking me up because he doesn’t want me walking around inebriated.”

“Ooh things getting real serious at Goldie’s base I see.” Tahlia snorted, she just couldn’t help it, seeing her friends get flustered was hilarious. The white-haired woman’s stutter even more prominent than usual.

“Y-yeah a-and what about Captain Jack huh- looking real protective over there.”

“Iris has a point Tahls.”

“I’m sorry are we ignoring that you and Mr Lion have hooked up multiple times?” Tahlia scoffed- ah she loved girls night. Ariadne’s half covered face was now as red as her lovers cloak.

“It was just once.” She muttered.

“Once has you both down bad then… holy shit is he like a god down there or something?” Iris’ comment made the black-haired woman spit her beer back into its pint as she began laughing and coughing all at once- Ariadne however was about to combust.

“Iris!” Ariadne exclaimed, ignoring the short woman gasping for breath.

“What? It’s a genuine question.” Iris smirked. Tahlia only laughed harder, almost toppling off her chair- the bartend, not her former boss, shot them a look of concern.

“I thought you were supposed to be shyer than me.” The Grey Wolves Captain exclaimed.

Tahlia managed to catch her breath, gods she’d needed that. The last few days had been so stressful she hadn’t even got a chuckle in. One deep breath in, fixing herself back on her seat she stared at her brunette, masked friend.

“You said he was good at the tango.” Tahlia said seriously, trying desperately not to crack while Iris began giggling quietly.

“In confidence!”

“Iris clearly knows a thing or two sweetling.”

“Well… I…” Iris was stunted for words.

“Don’t worry Glamour I know plenty more.” Tahlia winked.

That’s how their girls nights went really. Tahlia and Ariadne would tease each other and give one another a break from reality and with Iris it was somehow more entertaining. The girl who was mostly quiet, who would stutter due to her anxious nature could be quite rowdy- though Tahlia knew that already, dying ones hair and competing in bar contests didn’t fool the short faery-like woman.

What none of them had expected was William appearing behind Iris, Finn by his side.

“Good evening.” William greeted. “I hope you’ve been well.”

“Oh, very good, very good indeed.” Tahlia chuckled, sending another wink Iris’ way.

“We’ve been well William.” Ariadne replied. “Hello Finn.”

“Hi Miss Grimmwolf.” The young man beamed.

“I hope you don’t mind me escorting Iris back before it gets too late.” William said, hand moving to rest on his knight’s shoulder.

“Careful Captain this lass is a wild one.” Tahlia joked, moving to stand beside the red-haired boy from her squad.

“Tahls!” Iris hissed- the group of knights only laughed.

“S’ppose I should head off too and try t’ get an actual nights rest before anyone forces me to take a vacation.” Her back clicked as she stretched, and without a hair moving from place (how she did that they’d never know). “You good t’ get back t’ ya base Ari?” Tahlia yawned.

“Marion should be here in three… two… there she is.” The brunette giggles, pointing towards her Vice-captain. “Alright ladies see you in a fortnight and boys see you ‘round.”

Ariadne was quick to make her way to Marion, leaving them in her wake.

“Man, Marion is so pretty, I’m jealous.” Iris sighed, leaning back into her Captain’s hand- a Captain who only smiled softly at her friend. Tahlia smiled too, at the peacefulness the scene gave her… it was nice, sometimes she found it too nice, but maybe that’s just the cynic in her.

“I know right, who gave her the right.” Tahlia joked, shaking her head from those stray thoughts that wandered around her mind.

“You are all very pretty.” William said- though his head was tilted away to hide the pink staining his cheek. Iris stood, his hand moving to rest on her lower back protectively- Tahlia just watched, as she always did, she watched them interact.

Tahlia hadn’t noticed it before, but Iris was tall, well in comparison to herself and Ariadne that is. When the white-haired woman stood proudly (you could hardly say she was even tipsy) she was the same height as her gentle Captain.

“Well have a safe trip back to your base you two- no funny business.” Tahlia joked, turning quickly with Finn on her tail.

~~*~~

Tahlia practically fell into the bath Alice had been kind enough to make for her (reminder; give Alice a nice present). The hot water just seemed to melt away her troubles and unfortunately sober her up a little. Now Ariadne was the lightweight between the three of them, but Tahlia found that today she’d let herself be a little frugal with her consumption and it was worth it.

That nightmare, a constant reminder that echoed in the back of her mind, her failure; that’s what it was. It was so long ago she would have thought she’d move on but-

Tahlia shook her head, black strands falling in her face as she did- she couldn’t be bothered being focused on keeping her hair unmoveable, though now with the mirror peaking through her left peripheral she wished she did.

Tahlia was an appealing woman to look at, she knows this. She had sharp features and moonstone grey eyes, her face void of any scars, marks or stress lines and a figure she had known many a partner to enjoy; but she had her flaws. Flaws like her twisted fingers from a magic accident, like the unnatural sharpness of her canine teeth and a strength that deterred many men… flaws like missing part of her ear- she honestly can’t remember how it even happened which is why she keeps it hidden, because how do you explain a lacerated ear if you don’t remember how it happened.

Next thing Tahlia knows she’s getting dressed and ready for bed… it’s been too painful of a week for her to care any longer. Perhaps later she’ll gift the kids that follow her around with something nice… maybe give Jack something too for dealing with all that paperwork for so long… No wonder the Wizard king was always running away.

#black clover #black clover angst #black clover smut #Tahlia Spiridon #black clover oc #Ariadne Grimmwolf #Iris Blayne

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malicerewatchesdoctorwho · 3 years ago

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The Dominators - Episode Two

Written by - Norman Ashby Director - Morris Barry Producer - Peter Bryant

Episode Two

("I've got to make them believe me, before it's too late!" - Cully to Zoe about saving the Dulcians before they're all either taken as slaves or killed.)

Likes

- Ooh, I like that the Dominators have a wall that can slide down and become a medical bay. That's nice. At least they have the equipment to actually pull off the looking at alien genetic makeup.

- I can't remember if he dies or not, but I sure hope not. I am loving Cully in this, just so much. Sass your way through life, my dude.

- Jamie agreeing to act stupid, when the Doctor told him to and saying that acting that way is easy. I love these two and the way they act around each other. Jamie's face after he had said it would be easy XD

- The fun of the Doctor and Jamie pretending to be Dulcians and bumbling their way around everything. But I especially liked the part with the gun. The Doctor used what little he knows of the Dulcians from this time period to use it against the Dominator. Nice.

- Zoe complaining about how the female uniform on Dulkis is impractical and doesn't feel right on her. I am just imagining what would happen if she was Polly instead. She loved playing with clothes and dressing up. Zoe prefers full body suits and practicality. Nice.

Dislikes

- Uh, maybe not mention very loudly that the Quarks need to save their power. It's like giving away your secrets to enemies who will use it against you.

- ...What kind of plan is this? "Oh yes, we nuked the site, the radiation's all gone now even though the area is still pretty much dead, let's make this shit site a holiday spot. People will love the nothingness going on of this historical event."

- Umm, the Dulcians are supposed to be an advanced race, yes? Why do they seem anything but?

- Did that Dominator at the end (I can never remember their names...) have the order to blow up and destroy the research station? I thought he was told to investigate not destroy. He's a bit more bloodthirsty than the leader.

Awesome

- Oooooh, my god, the props in this are so utterly silly and ridiculous I can't help but love them. Look at the silly as scanner glasses the Dominators use. Just...look at them.

- Look at that sideways view of the capsule. From that angle, they look like miniature rockets and nice to look at. Front view they look more like bullets with feathering on the sides. Like the Dulcians merged together arrows and bullets.

Shitty

- Don't really like the Quarks too much. They just seem....harmless, for a lack of a better word. They don't come across as intimidating. This may be a thing though about age and how I wasn't around in the 60's to watch this in real time. Maybe back then it was different? All my older whovians out there who were kids in the 60's, do you remember?

- Ooh, shadow of a boom mic got in there! Several times! Haven't seen that in a while XD

- This is likely to be on all of them, because just gyeh. Those shoulders on the Dominators. They go all around the back too. Those things must have been so horrible to wear.

In Conclusion

Not as boring as last episode, but not all that great either in places. Like that council meeting. What exactly was the point of that, except to see how annoying a bunch of people all in a room together can get while trying to talk over each other. Still, this one had a bit of fun in it, so I am happy with that.

The Doctor and Jamie shine in this, so much. Just pretending to be completely ignorant of everything. Zoe and Cully are also great to watch. Those two bounce off each other nicely. I also liked, as was up in my likes list, Zoe complaining of how impractical the clothes there are. Zoe, look, it could be worse. You could be wearing the Dominator outfit.

I also like Keel and Kando beginning to think and question things.

Much better than last episode but still on the meh side of the scale for Doctor Who episodes.

Body count - 0. No one but Zoe and Cully were in the station when it got blown up, and they were both very much alive in the last frame as the credits began to roll. Everyone else was definitely alive last we saw them.

#classic doctor who #doctor who #the dominators #episode two #epic rewatch #second doctor #jamie mccrimmon #zoe heriot #dominators #quarks

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juniorgman187 · 4 years ago

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The Bones (Reid Series) Part 2

Summary: After doing an even deeper dive on Valerie’s past, Spencer finally meets her, but his invasiveness isn’t the worst part ... the worst part is he might actually like her.

Playlist: “The Bones” by Maren Morris & Hozier (BONUS: song includes major foreshadowing) Category: Series, Fluff, Soft Angst, Eventual smut and *NSFW content Pairing: Spencer Reid POV x Fem!OC - Valerie Content Warning: invasion of privacy, allusions to Maeve’s death, arrhythmia Word Count: 3.4k

Part 1 |

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

After firmly deciding not to weave Penelope into my tangled web, I was met with the arduous burden of conducting my own research.

Firstly, I would need a computer - yeah ... a computer. That’s how far I was willing to go for this pursuit. I once vowed never to fall victim to modern technology’s clutches, and yet here I was, doing my research on a public library’s computer. To my credit, I hadn’t gone out and bought one, I was merely using my resources.

With the need for a device out of the way, all that was left was the knowledge of what to look for. But that didn’t pose a problem either.

Funny enough, with as many rules and restrictions as there are regarding patient privacy and confidentiality, all it took was matching dates of news stories with hospital records to complete my research. I was fairly certain I was only scratching the surface of information about Valerie as opposed to the sea of things I could’ve uncovered if I asked for Garcia’s help, but there are only so many lines a person can cross in one week.

This was my limit.

Call me naive, but I was actually quite surprised with just how expansive the internet is. To an almost relentless degree, I would open an article and it would lead me to ten more about the same topic. It was this never ending rabbit hole that seemed to spiral on forever. I kept digging deeper and deeper until I could no longer dig.

I’d officially hit rock bottom.

It took me a grand total of just two hours to unearth all the ‘dirt’ I could on a young Valerie Bishop.

Local 16-year-old Wins Nevada’s Statewide Art Contest! Published by Henderson Press.

Valerie, just a sophomore in high school at the time, was donning what any experimental teen girl would’ve worn in the early 2000s - bootcut jeans and a sequin blouse over top of a plain camisole. And if I zoomed in close enough, I could spot the evidence of a sparkly blue shadow coating her eyelids. Surprisingly, though, that wasn’t the first thing I noticed.

It was that smile. That tooth-achingly sweet smile.

Though I never got the chance to see Maeve truly smile, that’s what I imagined it would look like.

The photographer must’ve caught her midway through a laugh, at least that’s what the image of her slightly open-mouthed grin told me. Meanwhile, her two tiny hands were clenching her overbearingly large trophy while her artwork stood behind her as the background.

It didn’t take me long to figure out why her painting won. Simply put, there was no need to see anyone else’s art to know that they couldn’t possibly compete with hers.

Hers was an abstract rendition of what I believe to be a forest of some sort. The detail is what I was most drawn to. It would’ve been unbelievable on its own but the fact that she was 16 when she painted it? That’s what was unbelievable to me.

If that’s how talented she was at that age, I could only imagine how much more talented she became with time. However, I lost the chance to investigate the current state of her skill before a related article from The Cleveland Gazette about Valerie succeeded this one.

From Award-Winning Artist to Henderson’s Hero

Read my interview with 17-year-old Valerie Bishop to find out more about her struggle with arrhythmia and how she turned her pain into a project!

By Kelli Gallagher from the Cleveland Gazette.

Gallagher: Thank you so much for letting me interview you, Valerie.

Bishop: Of course! I’m happy to.

Gallagher: You’ve become somewhat of a hero in Henderson, Nevada, haven’t you?

Bishop: I wouldn’t call myself a hero ... but if everyone else wants to - I’m fine with that. (laughs)

Gallagher: Don’t be so modest! I mean, what you’ve done is so incredible, and you’re only what? Seventeen?

Bishop: Yes, ma’am. I just turned seventeen this past August.

Gallagher: Wow, I can’t believe how young you are and yet you’ve already accomplished so much. I saw that you won a statewide art contest last year. Tell me more about that.

Bishop: That’s a funny story actually. My Grandma Sheila was the one who entered me in that contest. I didn’t even know about it until I won it. She’s always surprising me, though. In fact, she’s the one that surprised me with my first ever art supplies, when I was about eight or so. They were these super expensive oil paints, and I knew she couldn’t afford them, so I told her we should return them and get something cheaper, but she said, “Nonsense. When the bones are good the rest don’t matter. A house don’t fall when the bones are good.” That was kind of her saying.

A house don’t fall when the bones are good.

The bones.

Gallagher: I’m interested to know more about your relationship with your grandma. If I’m remembering correctly, she was also diagnosed with arrhythmia a while back too, right?

Bishop: Yes, she was, but that’s never slowed her down. And as for our relationship, my grandma and I have always been close, but arrhythmia, in a weird way, has brought us even closer. She has always been my biggest supporter and the fact that we’re both on this journey together makes her my biggest supporter even more so.

Gallagher: Absolutely. Now, I also heard that you’ve started a fundraising program to possibly start a gallery and studio in Virginia Beach. If you don’t mind me asking, why Virginia Beach? Is there any special significance?

Bishop: Actually, that’s where my grandma met my grandpa, and they got married and started a family there, too. So if Grandma Sheila hadn’t been there to meet him, she wouldn’t have had my mom, and that would mean I wouldn’t have been here either. I like to think Virginia Beach is where it all started. In a way, it’s where my bones are. That solid foundation in Virginia gave me everything I have today.

Gallagher: That is just incredible. I’m so glad to see your fundraising project is thriving, but I can’t imagine any of this has been particularly easy for you. You were diagnosed right around the time your senior year was starting right?

Bishop: Yes ma’am.

Gallagher: So what brought you from Henderson to Cleveland?

Bishop: Well, actually, I didn’t want to move, especially not before I graduated, but Cleveland has the best cardiovascular hospital in the country and my health is far more important than graduating in the same state I grew up in. So when my parents were willing to move me and my sister out here, I saw it as a privilege rather than something to be sad about.

Gallagher: I am so inspired by you, Valerie.

Bishop: (laughs) Really, why?

Gallagher: Despite everything that’d been thrown at you, you are still so grateful. I hope you never lose that.

Bishop: I promise you I won’t.

Gallagher: So one last thing before I go, what is one hope you have for your future self?

Bishop: I hope, future self, that your ‘bones’ are still strong.

Gallagher: Beautiful. Thank you so much again for doing this, Valerie. I sincerely hope you reach your goal and you get to open up that gallery and studio in Virginia Beach.

At the bottom of the article, there was a footnote from Kelli Gallagher.

Exactly 10 years later, Bishop was able to move to Virginia Beach and open up her gallery and studio.

By the end of the article, I felt a genuine sense of pride for Valerie, and I know I had virtually no right to know these things about her, but I could still be proud of her for them right?

I would never fully get my answer to this question before I crossed the final boundary.

After exhausting all that I could gather from the internet without Penelope’s assistance, the only thing left for me to do was actually meet her in person. However, this would prove to be a bigger obstacle that it seemed. I decided to delay the daunting task until the next day. A decision partially influenced by the phrase, ‘sleep on it.’ I prayed I’d gain clarity on what to do when I woke up the next morning, but even with a night’s rest, I was still undecided as I drove to Virginia Beach once more.

To sit in my car that was conveniently parked right in front of the gallery was a poor choice. Because with every passing second, the temptation to walk in grew, but the fear of regret dampened those impulses. The more I thought about it, the more I psyched myself out. Between my two choices, to freeze or to fight, I should’ve taken the third - to flee. But I was here now and I couldn’t leave empty-handed for a second time.

After a moment’s indecision, adrenaline coursed through my veins to give me the courage to get out of my car. When I felt an outdoor breeze blow over me, I knew there was no going back now. Right when I walked in, the little bell above the door rang, solidifying that I was officially crossing the threshold, and whether I liked it or not, she was going to see me after hearing me walk in.

“I’ll be right with you!” A small voice called out from somewhere in the back. She was hidden from my immediate sight, and somehow that made it so much worse. It was now I that was waiting for her, instead of her unknowingly waiting for me.

As though I were prey getting ready to escape a predator, I stayed put by the door. It gave me a full view of the entire place anyway.

Scoping out my surroundings, I spotted the paintings that were carefully measured and placed on the walls, almost to perfection. I had no time to notice anything more before the person in the back walked out.

Immediately when I saw her, I knew.

“You’re … not Valerie.” I couldn’t help sounding so disappointed but luckily, the woman that came out took no offense to my observation.

“No, I’m not,” She laughed. “But I can get her for you-”

“No wait!” I uselessly leapt forward to stop her from saying, “Vee! There’s someone out here to see you!” But that’s precisely what she did anyway. Evidently oblivious of my previous protests, she politely smiled back at me. “She’ll be right out.”

For the second time that day, I waited with bated breath, anxiously anticipating the arrival of Valerie. And I was almost too focused on subduing the pounding of my heart to realize that she was actually walking out of the back right now.

“Hi, sorry about that!” A new voice chirped.

Valerie.

The moment I laid eyes on her, it became clear to me that the pictures in her files hardly did her justice. Nothing could compare to the real sight of her. I was only able to catch the profile of her face when I saw her in the cafe, but in her entirety, I began to wax nostalgic. Though her face and hair and body had transformed into that of a grown woman’s features, I could still identify the same tooth-achingly sweet smile that a younger Valerie once wore on the front page of the Henderson Press. She was no beast to conquer, she was just a girl, smiling at me in that same gentle way.

Her expression just as well showed no indication of recognition, not that she would recognize me, considering my letter was anonymous and unless she pulled the same stunt I did, she wouldn’t ever recognize who I was.

“I’m Val,” She made her greeting to me while untying her dirtied waist apron, and it was merely the action that caused my gaze to fall to her hips, but when she shed the apron, I was still staring. There was something sort of mesmerizing about the way they swayed as she approached. It wasn’t until they stopped swaying completely that I realized they did so because there was no more distance to advance - she was already right there in front of me, patiently watching me stare.

“Val?” I blinked hard to revert my gaze while also playing into the part that I had no idea who she was.

“Mhm. Short for Valerie,” She confirmed happily. “Like the Amy Winehouse song.”

This time, I genuinely didn’t know what she was referring to, and my confused countenance prompted her to clarify, “You don’t know that song?”

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, she began to playfully sing, “Well, sometimes I go out by myself and I look across the water ...”

While she watched my face and waited for the recitation of the song to jog my memory, I was just as much studying her face. I could tell she was only kidding when she sang, evidenced by the laugh that followed her rendition, but it sounded so unironically good that I had to question what other talents she possessed.

“Um, I was actually thinking more like Valerie, the martyred medieval saint, whose name stood for strength and health.” No sooner than the words spilled from my mouth did I recognize the freudian slip - the simultaneous coincidence and confession. The coincidence was that, now, with Maeve’s heart beating in her chest, she lived up to her name - she was newly strong and healthy. But I worried, she would see the correlation I drew between her name and her successful transplant and would realize that I knew more about her than I let on. Did I just give away too much?

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name earlier. What was it?” Her casual dismissiveness of my previous statement did nothing to ease my worries. Was she beginning to piece everything together?

“Oh, right!” I said dumbly. “S-Spencer. I’m Spencer.” I was such a blubbering bundle of nerves that I actually reached out to shake her hand - a stranger’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, Spencer,” She softly laughed, which was hopefully not out of the enjoyment of seeing me squirm. “What can I do for you?”

A loaded question, don’t you think? What can you do for me, Valerie? Well, for one thing, you could’ve answered my letter, but to say something as bold as that would require me to admit the real reason I was here, and how could I do that without mentioning how I found you in the first place?

“Um ...” Whose birthday is the soonest? “My friend Emily’s birthday is coming up and I was wondering if I could possibly buy a painting from you as a birthday present.”

There was the faintest perceptible skepticism in her expression, but that could’ve just been my paranoia talking because in the next breath, she didn’t suggest a proclivity to my deceit. “Yeah, of course! Do you know what her favorite medium is? Or her favorite artist? Or her favorite style of art?”

For every addition to the question, I wordlessly shook my head no. Was my lie already unraveling? Could she see right through me?

“No worries. If you want, you can walk around the gallery and tell me if you see anything you think she’d like.” She made her offer to me sweetly, then disappeared into the back room again. I tried to follow her with my eyes for as long as I could, but from where I was standing, I couldn’t see very far into it. I wandered a little further into the center of the gallery to possibly catch a glimpse of what was occupying her time back there, but when I heard the chattering of two voices, Valerie and the other woman, coming from the same general direction, I realized I was completely alone in this part of the studio.

With no one around to bear witness but these portraits, I could’ve easily slipped out and made my escape, and I might’ve even done it had it not been for the unmistakable gravitational pull forcing me to stay here and walk about the room.

Making my way throughout the gallery, I would pause every now and then when a painting would stand out to me, which was often, considering each picture was impressive.

But there was one painting in particular that piqued my interest. It made me feel something I’d never felt before.

It wasn’t special by any means. By rights, I shouldn’t have even noticed it, for it wasn’t the largest painting, nor the smallest one - it wasn’t even the most average painting. But it felt exceptionally ... Valerie. I had no doubt in my mind that she painted this one - in fact, I had a good bet that she painted most of these portraits, if not all of them - but this one. There was just something about it that I couldn’t put my finger on.

“So,” A draft was created from where Valerie swiftly and unexpectedly joined me at my side. “What do you think?”

“Um, there’s definitely something,” I struggled to find the word. “appealing about this one.” Almost as soon as the word came out of my mouth, I knew it was only a matter of time before she called out the inadequacy of my answer.

“Appealing?” She repeated in mockery. “That’s the best you got? Come on, you’ve been standing here for like ten minutes. There must be something about it you like.”

“I’m not sure.” I honestly admitted with a shrug.

“There’s no wrong answer.” She assured me, but I found that hard to believe.

“So if I said I see a grizzly bear attacking a UFO, that wouldn’t be wrong?”

“Nope,” She popped the p. “If that’s how you interpret it then that’s how you interpret it. Just because someone else sees it differently, doesn’t mean you’re wrong.” It would’ve sounded like complete bullshit or nauseatingly cheesy coming out of someone else’s mouth, but her delivery felt so genuine. It actually moved me.

As she said this, she turned her head in my direction to look up at me, causing her shoulder to brush my upper arm, sending a wave of goosebumps all over my body.

She was so close.

But I was so unbothered by her proximity that I didn’t even notice exactly how close she really was. If someone else had invaded my personal space like that, I would’ve moved in the opposite direction just on instinct, but I didn’t even think to do that with Valerie. I was so comfortable with her being there.

But was that just because a part of her was once Maeve’s? Was the entire foundation of my likening to Valerie built upon that single attribute?

Was that my bones?

“Um,” I began fidgeting with my hands to self-soothe. “I like it. I don’t know why. But I like it. How’s that for an answer?”

There was a pause before her response that compelled me to look at her, but when I did so, she was already looking at me. “I’ll take it,” She nodded. “It’s the biggest compliment to me if my art can make you feel something.”

Was it the art that made me feel something ... or you?

“I’ll tell you what,” She walked over to grab something from the front desk. She came back with a small piece of cardstock. “I’m going to an art exhibition next weekend. Why don’t you come with me and see if you can’t find something for Emily there?”

She handed me the paper, which was actually her business card. “You don’t have to have an answer for me today, but call me when you do.” She seemed to think that was the end of the conversation, but I still had more questions.

“You’re inviting me?” was the first question that came to mind, albeit the dumbest one.

“Yeah, you can be my plus one.”

I gulped to dislodge the lump in my throat. “Like-like your date?”

She furrowed her brows with mild confusion. “Um ... sure, if that’s what you wanna call it,” which was the last thing she said to me before vanishing within the back room again.

I peered back down at the card and tapped it gently on the palm on my hand as though to register its presence really being there.

For all intents and purposes, this card was meaningless. But to me, it was the formal consenting - nay, invitation - to reach out to her again. She was willingly extending this line of contact to me.

No more public library computers. No more files. No more ‘research.’ Just her number - a way to reach her without veering off my moral compass.

Despite this, I still had no clue whether or not I was going to accept her offer.

All that I did know was that I wanted to see her again.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

PART 3 COMING SOON!

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