#pit girl has to be mari right

[1-jar-of-stars]

you can kind of tell who was bullied in the yj fandom and how resolved their trauma is by how much empathy they have for the characters

[mommyeater2000]

The hunt

i haven’t wrote in such a long time, and i’m soooo sad about yellow jackets so i needed to write about mari because she’s to sexy to die:(

Mari x Reader

Description: The hunt where Mari is supposed to die, reader decides that they aren’t gonna let that happen. instead of mari falling into the pit, reader pushes her out of the way.

We stood in a circle, but it didn’t feel like one. Circles are supposed to be safe. Closed. Equal. This wasn’t that. It was uneven, jagged—like the shape had been broken and hammered back into place. Cold seeped through the animal skin and unusual outfits that everyone wore during their hunts.

My fingers itched against the hilt of the dull knife at my side. Not to use it. Just to feel it. To have a sense of safety I shift my left foot to my right fidgeting with my fingers on my left hand

Mari was across from me. Her hair was pulled back, jaw locked, eyes half-lidded in that way that looked bored but meant the opposite. She always looked like she was about to say something sharp. I meet her eyes.

We weren’t touching. But she kept glancing at me, and I kept looking back.Everyone knew about us. We weren’t secret. But I don’t need to be with her all the time I can feel her presence from a mile away like she’s a part of me, a part of my soul.

A wind moved through the trees—long, low, curling—and the sound of it stirred something deep in the group. The way dogs start whining before a storm.

misty took a step forward. The deck was in it. Worn playing cards, stained in places I didn’t want to think too hard about.Everyone quieted. You could feel the silence pressing down on our skin.

One by one, the cards started to pass.

I watched each girl as she drew��quiet, cautious, fingers twitching as they turned the cards over looking at it then turning it to the group. each time i see their face relax, like a weight has been lifted off they’re shoulders. i could just feel a bigger weight on mine. my chances to get the card are higher.

van first, then natalie, lottie. who almost looked disappointed, taissa.

And then it came to Mari’s turn. but Shauna steps beside her and Taissa.

“Shauna you don’t have to take any extra risk. you can go back to you’re spot. ”taissa spoke

shauna smirks, tilting her head slightly. “how’d you get into AP stats? it doesn’t change the odds. besides. i trust whatever it wills. Misty, keep going.” she looks back to the group. Mari spoke up. “No, go back to your spot. That’s not how this works, you get what you get.” Shauna grins at her, and looks eyes with you. she knows something. her shit eating grin doesn’t flatten. “Misty, the cards.”

Her hand didn’t hesitate.

she took the card holding it up to the group, a smug look on her face. she’s safe. Mari gives her a nasty look.

Mari looked at me.

Just for a second.

Then, without a word, she reached her hand forward. grabbing the card, her breath stuck in her chest. But, Her expression didn’t change. She turned it over with two fingers. The motion was almost lazy.

The Queen of Hearts stared up at us.

And nobody breathed. van gave her a sorrowful look. Mari almost wanted to put the card back and refuse to play. like a little kid you say’s they’re not playing anymore after they get tagged.

“Oh…tough break. Mar. take off your cape.” the steps in-front of her. a nasty look on her face. Mari bite her lip, looking at me. Almost like she needs reassurance, but I can’t help. she begins to untie her cape. refusing eye contact as Shauna put’s what once was the lucky necklace that jackie gave her, now is just full of bloodshed. she start’s to count, Smiling.

“one…Two.” Mari lounges at her with a knife she swiped from Shauna’s side, as van and some others hold Shauna back. while gen, Akilah and me help Mari up from the ground she was just thrown on. my hand goes right to her’s. she returns the gesture with a squeeze. “you’re going to be fine, okay. every thing will be fine.” i say breathing heavily. I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince me or her that it’s going to be okay. “Better Me then you, right?” she pulls me into a short hug the side of my cheek resting on her shoulder.

Lottie speaks up. “Three, Four, Five, Six….” She look’s towards Shauna who lets out a small laugh.

Mari cuts Lottie and Shauna off. “You deserve everything that’s coming to you!” she let’s go of my hand, running towards the wood’s. Mari didn’t look back as she began her sprint, weaving through the trees with that eerie, calculated grace. Her figure was a blur of movement.

Lottie Keeps counting as everyone sits there and watches.

everyone gets there weapons. i don’t move to grab any, i don’t need any.

Mari is far ahead of me.

She always is, in some way or another—quicker with comebacks, faster on her feet, somehow always a step ahead even when she’s pretending not to care. I lose sight of her somewhere after the second ridge. Just flashes of movement now, the white of her dress darting between trees like a flicker of lightning in a dark sky.

It feels like it’s been hours. Or maybe minutes. The woods stretch and bend time around you until nothing makes sense except the pounding in your chest and the cold gnawing your fingers.

There are others behind me—I can hear them. The loud breathing, the slap of feet against frozen earth, rustling fabric and muffled voices. But they all feel distant now.

I don’t know what I’ll do when I reach her. I don’t know if I’m supposed to stop her or hide her or just… see her. Make sure she’s okay. the second Shauna forced that switch with Mari, She didn’t even react. No wide eyes, no trembling hands. Just that dead expression. Blank, almost bored. Like she was already somewhere else.

And then she ran.

in the same direction of the pit me and Travis set up, The pit she once fell into, but has no memory or where it is. and the pit that’s completely covered, filled with wooden spikes.

i skid across a patch of ice under the snow and nearly fall. I don’t stop. I’ve already lost too much time. My lungs burn. My hands are numb. My thighs ache with every sprint uphill, and my throat feels like I swallowed glass—but I keep going.

Somewhere ahead, a branch cracks.

I spin toward the sound. There—movement, sudden and sharp. I catch the shape of her, just her back, the white dress bright against the dark trees. She’s stripped everything else off—her jacket, her pants, her boots. Left a trail like breadcrumbs.

I push harder.

“Mari!” I shout.

She doesn’t stop. Doesn’t turn.

Of course not. She probably thinks I’m someone else. One of the others. Another girl high on frenzy and frostbite, chasing down blood in the name of ritual. Maybe part of her still doesn’t believe I’m not one of them too. Maybe part of me doesn’t know.

She slips between two evergreens. I veer right to intercept her, trying to circle around. My boots sink deeper into the snow, and I stumble but recover. I hear her breathing now, quick and sharp. She’s close, too close.

i can see her running from the side, i just need to speed up. I come up beside her, angling from the left—not directly behind, not where she’ll expect. She’s not even looking in my direction. She’s focused on moving forward, on outpacing whatever madness is nipping at her heels.

It’s just snow. A patch of it, like all the others. Soft and untouched. Quiet. There’s no warning. No edge. No dark hole in the ground. “Mari!” I yell.

She doesn’t hear me. Or maybe she ignores me. She’s too focused. Too fast. Her foot lifts—she’s about to step into it.

I throw myself sideways and Time slows.

My shoulder slams into her ribs. Her breath leaves her in a grunt. I watch her stumble, caught off balance, arms flailing. Her bare feet scrape across the snow. She falls sideways, not forward. into the whiteness.

I hit the ground hard beside her. Hard enough to make my vision rattle.

But I keep moving.

I’m rolling. Something shifts beneath me—like a breath held too long suddenly letting go. The snow caves. The earth disappears.

I slide.

No, I drop, i swear i could have felt Mari try to grab my hand. but It’s to cold to tell.

I open my eyes and try to move, but everything feels distant. My leg pulses with heat and pressure. Something’s crusted to the side of my head. My mouth tastes like copper and dirt. I blink again—slow. The light above has changed. Dimmer now. Or maybe my eyes are just fading on me.

I don’t know how long it’s been.

Minutes?

Long enough for the adrenaline to drain out of my veins and leave only the ache behind.

I hear footsteps.

Not imagined ones—real. Crunching snow, breathless voices, shapes moving at the edge of the pit. Someone swears. A sharp intake of breath.

She’s in there,” someone mutters.

“Is she moving?”

Another voice. Closer. Familiar.

Mari?

No. It’s not her. Not yet.

i hear Lottie’s voice cut through the air, and i could almost see her head looking down at me.

“i don’t think she’s going to survive, if she does then the wilderness rejected her, rejected them. the hunts called off.”

I try to say something, but it catches in my throat. My tongue is heavy. My body is heavier.

More noise now. Ropes. A branch cracking. Someone’s lowering something—maybe a jacket, maybe a rope tied together with scraps of fabric. I can’t tell.

“She’s bleeding—don’t yank her.”

“Careful—watch her leg.”

Mari’s voice cuts through it all, clear and too close.

“Move. You’re not touching her.”

It’s not a request.

And just like that, they do.

I feel her more than I see her. The shift of shadow. The snap of her breath in the cold air. from above the pit. Then her hands. Rough, shaking slightly. Warm. and then my eyes close.

When I wake up, I don’t know where I am.

There’s something heavy pressed to my leg. A weight. A dull pressure.

The ceiling is wooden. Slanted slightly. The air smells of blood, pine, and smoke. I’m in the hut, Mari’s hut. where is Mari?

I don’t remember how I got here. Only pieces. The cold. Mari’s voice. The feeling of being lifted, swaying. Maybe someone carried me. Maybe they used a sled or a tarp or their bare fucking arms. I don’t know.

My leg’s wrapped, tight. My hip aches like it’s been stabbed and sewn shut. I don’t look yet. I don’t want to see.

Mari’s sitting on the floor beside me, leaning against the wall. One knee up, one arm draped across it, her head tilted back—exhausted, but alert. Her eyes are half-closed. She hasn’t left.

Her jacket’s still off. Her hair’s a mess. There’s blood on her hands—not hers.

Mine.

She moves instantly, leaning forward, expression hard.

“You’re awake.”

It sounds like an accusation. But her voice is quieter than usual. Rough with something unspoken. “Hi,” I manage. It comes out hoarse.

“You fucking idiot,” she mutters, and looks away. And stands up. Staying in the same spot.

I try to push myself up a little, but the pain flares and Mari shoves me back with a hand against my shoulder—not gentle, not rough, just firm.

“You have a hole in your leg the size of a fist and you’re saying ‘hi’ like you tripped on a goddamn tree root? you could’ve died.”

“I saved you.”

“No, you almost died for me!”

That silences me. Not because I disagree, but because of the way she says it. Her voice breaks hard on the last word, and she turns away from me like she can’t stand to look at me right now.

“I saw you fall in. I thought you were dead. I thought—” She cuts off, swallowing something jagged. “There was blood everywhere. You weren’t moving. And I thought… That’s it. That’s the last time I’ll ever see you move.”

“Mari—”

“No. Shut up.” She turns back toward me, and this time her expression is all fire. “You don’t get to talk right now. You don’t get to make this okay. Because it’s not okay. You scared the shit out of me, and I hate you for it.”

I breathe in, trying to find the words. “i rather it be me the you. i helped you.”

Her hands ball into fists at her sides. “are you stupid? You think I want to feel like this? You think I like trying to get you out of a death trap. everyone else tried to help you get out. what if you did die? were you just gonna leave me alone with some kind of fucking survivors guilt?” There’s something wet in her voice now. Not tears yet, but close.

“They helped me out?” I ask gently.

“Yeah. Eventually. After I fucking snapped at them. Lottie kept saying you weren’t meant to survive.

“and you didn’t listen?” She scoffs. “I don’t listen when it comes to you.”

That shuts me up again.

We sit in silence for a long minute. Her hand drifts closer, fingers brushing mine. Not taking it—just near enough that I could if I wanted.

I do. She doesn’t pull away.

“what happened with the hunt?”

She snorts once—bitter. “they ended it. You crashing into a pit sort of ruined the mood.” I almost laugh, but my ribs hurt.

I squeeze her hand.

“I knew the pit was there, me and Travis came up with it. He was gonna come up with a plan to make Lottie walk on it. That’s how I knew it was close.”

“That’s pretty Dark, didn’t take you as somebody to do something like that.” she say’s Half joking.

She hasn’t let go of my hand.

Not really. Not fully.

Even when I shift a little, the pressure changes—less grip, more presence—but it’s still there. The way she anchors me. My whole body hurts, but it’s the kind of pain that tells you you’re not dead. The burn of healing starting too soon. My leg throbs, wrapped in something rough, and the bandages are already soaked through with the edge of blood. My side feels swollen and heavy, like the skin there isn’t mine.

But it’s Mari’s hand that keeps me grounded.

I try to adjust my breathing, but it stutters. She notices instantly. Her gaze flicks over me—sharp, assessing, worried in that way she pretends isn’t worry. “How bad is it?” I ask.

She doesn’t lie.

“You missed most of the spikes. But one caught the side of your thigh and it… it opened up deep. You lost a lot of blood. Honestly you’re lucky, there’s almost 0 Chance of you landing like you did.”

“And my waist?”

She hesitates. Her jaw tightens.

“You were lucky,” she mutters. “It tore through the side, but it didn’t hit anything vital. Or… at least I think it didn’t.”

“You think?”

“I’m not a doctor, genius.”

I try to smile. It doesn’t quite land.

“Still,” I say. “You got me out of there.”

She looks away, jaw working like she’s chewing through guilt.

“you didn’t hesitate. You didn’t think.” Her voice sharpens. “You just threw yourself in after me like some kind of—”

She cuts herself off, breath ragged. Her eyes go glossy again, but she blinks it back fast.

I want to say something. I want to tell her I’d do it again. That it wasn’t a decision, it was instinct. That there’s never been a single second since we crashed here where I wouldn’t risk everything for her. But the words get stuck. Not because they aren’t true—because they’re too true.

Mari isn’t the type to let her guard down without a fight. So instead I say, “You were about to fall in. You didn’t see it. i got lucky.”

“No,” she says, low and certain. “You got hurt. That’s not being ‘lucky”

She finally meets my eyes again. And there’s something in hers I’ve only seen a few times before—back when she thought I was sleeping, or when she thought no one was watching. It’s not softness exactly. It’s more like fury at the idea of losing me. “I didn’t know if you were going to wake up.”

“I didn’t know either,” I whisper. When she finally speaks, it’s lower. Rougher. “You keep doing this. Putting yourself in the fire like it’s your job to make sure the rest of us come out okay. And I love you for it and I fucking hate you for it.”

The words land like a punch. I can barely hold them.

“You love me?” I whisper.

Mari finally meets my eyes again—and there’s no escape in her gaze now. Just rage, exhaustion, and something too bright to name.

“You already knew that,” she says. “Don’t pretend you didn’t.”

I try to reach for her, but my fingers shake. She sees it, and without another word, she takes my hand and presses it flat against her chest. Her heartbeat thuds against my palm. Unsteady. Real.

“You’re not allowed to die before me,” she says. “Got it?”

“I’ll try,”

she brushes her hand on the top of my head.

It’s not affection, not exactly. It’s something rawer than that. Like she’s holding me down so I don’t slip away again.

“Does it hurt?” she asks after a long pause.

“Yes.”

She nods, and I swear she looks almost relieved to hear it.

“Good,” she mutters. “Means you’re still alive, and you deserve it for being careless.”

“stop with the angry act. You stayed,” I say.

“Of course I did idiot.” she crosses her arm

I close my eyes.

It’s not peace. It’s not safety. Not here. But it’s something.

Mari, alive. Me, alive. Barely. Together.

That’s enough for tonight.

[returnofeternity]

Ok shuana is a murderous traumatized girl, who in the gang isn't? I am desperate for some soft gf x shauna stories. Yes she can bite people's arms but who is gonna gently wipe the blood off her face? Who is gonna take her scratched up knuckles and sooth them? Who gonna give her the hug she really fucking needed every five minutes they were out in the woods?

soft gf who encourages shauna's craziness <3 watching her release her anger because of her trauma and also because she's just batshit insane <3 shrugging and smiling when one of the girls tells you that shauna bit someone again. you love being the only one able to cool her down and take care of her. being the only one she'll let her guard down with.

sometimes she just really needs a hug but is too bitter to ask for one. you really just gotta hug her and hold her in place while she grumbles about how she doesn't need this right now while trying to get out of your grip, but she's melting into your touch within 10 seconds.

wiping the blood off her face after her butchering duties with some water you heated up for her to show her you care, being so gentle and loving. her brown eyes get even bigger somehow as she looks at you with so much love. she scrunches up her face so cutely when you place a kiss on her nose. "not in front of them," she'd mumble-whine, not wanting to lose her reputation as a tuff guy, like anyone would be less scared of her ass because you kissed her nose.

trying to get it into her head that she deserves to feel loved and happy when she tries to sabotage what she has and when she's in her self-destructive mode. telling her that you love all of her while kissing her bruised knuckles, rubbing them softly. and even if she doesn't quite believe it in the moment, she's so lucky to have you. she loves you so much.

soft gf who helps shauna carve the wooden stakes for future pit girl <3 sighing deeply in love when she tells you that she hopes mari falls in there. kissing her hands after you're done carving because she worked so hard! she loves the worship.

taking her out to the lake to wash off, running your fingers through her hair and scratching her scalp while she floats and relaxes. also definitely washing off some dried blood because she probably got into another fight... she loves when you press your thumb into her bruises before kissing it also :-) helping her dry off, ruffling her hair and tying her blue ribbon in her ponytail. getting her dressed and walking back to the huts with your arm wrapped around hers!!

shauna x soft gf where she loves it when you wear her clothes.... they all wear each others clothes out there but when you wear one of her plaid sweaters she feels like she's claiming you and she goes a lil crazy. she gets more touchy than usual. and soft.

[baked-potatoes-rule]

Yellowjackets S3 brief thoughts.

It's clear by now that the person leaving the phone and Juice Newton's "Queen of hearts played" (I was waiting for that one, can't believe that actually did it), is most likely adult Melissa, making her the final survivor. And I am honestly content with that.

Mari fell into the pit? Is that foreshadowing or is Gen going to be pit girl? Making Mari the girl that they eat alive.

Kudos to Ben for helping Mari. I know people love to hate him but, he did good. I would've taken her with me too because she would most likely tell on him.

Natalie trying to cover up for Ben? Her tender soul continues to shine and I am so happy about it. I love how she runs the game...No cockiness or pretentious bs. She's just trying her best to make things roll smoothly.

Van smiling when her and Taissa spoke about Ben causing the fire? And him telling Mari he didn't? Kinda Sus Van.

Adult Taivan and their Breakfast at Tiffany's like moment was so wholesome, until the waiter died.

Why the fuck is Lottie making Travis drink that stuff? Why doesn't she do it? He is beyond exhausted and terrified. Akilah giving him the duck to hold? Such a precious moment. I feel so bad for him.

The adult timeline Misty scenes were fantastic. I loved every moment of her on screen.

Lottie still wants to be Shauna's kid's baby daddy.

Shauna's behaviour right now is absolutely excusable. She lost her fucking baby and they are praying for its soul to save them. What the fuck. As someone who's into woowoo shit, I would be furious too. She's traumatized, she lost two people who meant the most to her and now she has to dress up like a forest dumpling (I love their outfits) and pray? I would be slapping a bitch too if it were me.

Melissa leaving the flowers on top of the rock Shauna put after moving her baby- lovely gesture. I know we haven't seen much of her but I like her character. I really hope her and Shauna stick together for the teen timeline. And honestly about time someone is trying to approach her in a sensible way.

Not commenting on the kissing scene...I already anticipated ShaunaHat after the trailer.

Why are adult Taissa and Van lying to each other?

Callie is just like her mother and I'm not sure how to feel about it. Or do I? I love it.

Jeff needs to file divorce. He needs to get into a relationship with someone who's actually compatible with him and leave Shauna so she can find someone compatible with her. Adult Melissa I'd say. Or Lottie.

Perhaps I'll sit and dig deeper into the details and write stuff separately.

[lesbo-tuliplvrr]

angst and fluff???

starting the day in bed all cuddly bc you're finally sharing a rest day

sadly, a friend of abby unexpectedly comes over, and abby knows how hard their friend's breakup has been, so she let's them stay.

reader is sooo pissed and usually abby can immediately recognise the jealousy and bad vibes, but she's so distracted

when the friend realises this, she asks to see abby's room and tries to kiss her

reader sees this and literally just storms off

im so sorry its so long lol, angsty ending pls. i hate miscommunication, but i have a feeling you'll do it amazing

you can totally change it too !!

off day

girlfriend!abby x girlfriend!reader

summary: abby continuously fails to heed your warnings about her best friend's intentions. when it gets to the point where she can no longer give her [friend] the benefit of the doubt, you're already gone.

cw: fluff (not for long HEHEHE), angst, kinda irritating abby, miscommunication but not really more like disregard or misunderstanding of said communication, swearing, kiss without consent, no specific physical description of reader, she/her pronouns are used.

a/n: tysm for the request anon:) I had something like this in my ideas to write anyway so I really just killed two birds with one stone. I changed things up a bit hope you don't mind. initially I was gonna make nora the friend but I can't do my girl like that so I just pulled mari's name from yellowjackets because I cannot stand her and can't wait till she dies :D (100% certain she's pit girl idc). anyway, hope you guys enjoy!! lemme know what you think in the replies!

wc: 2.5k

For the first time in a really long time, yours and Abby's off days coincided. Meaning you both could sleep in as long as you wanted. Could stay in bed all day, entangled in each other if you wanted to. And for the most part, that was your plan. Of course you would eventually have to leave the comfort of your shared bed to shower, and eat and perform other bodily functions needed to survive, but for the better part of the day you planned to never leave Abby's side. And neither did she plan to leave yours.

"I missed this so much," Abby spoke from where her face was nuzzled in your neck. She planted a kiss there, making you giggle at the feeling.

"I'm not leaving this bed ever again," you said, sinking deeper into the comfort of Abby and your shared bed. Abby looked up at you, raising up to kiss you sweetly on the lips. You reciprocated the gesture, easily getting lost in her touch. The kiss deepened, both not wanting to pull away. It really had been so long.

Abby had you pinned to the bed in no time, kisses no longer being focused on your lips but being littered everywhere on your body, when suddenly-

Knock Knock!

You and Abby arose due to the sound of frantic knocking, quickly throwing on your robes and heading towards the front door. Abby looked through the peephole, alarmed to see one of her best friends standing on the other side looking frazzled.

"Mari what the hell?" she questioned, opening the door for her friend. The friend in question immediately threw herself into Abby's arms.

"I really need you right now, Abby."

Reader

You weren't a toxic monster. Friends existed. Abby had friends who would need her at times. Just like there'll be times when she'd need them. It was the same for you. But you couldn't help but feel irritated at the sight of Mari.

She was one of those friends that were only suddenly a constant presence after their friend was taken. it seemed like she'd always find the times when you and Abby were just enjoying yourselves to barge in and make things about her.

At first you didn't want to think like that, chalking it down to just a standard case of jealousy. Abby had even noticed your change in behaviour.

"Don't tell me you're jealous of her?" Abby laughed, seeing you roll your eyes in relief and sigh after Mari left, having spent the entire day clinging to Abby.

You felt lousy for feeling jealous. It was so stupid. "I know I don't have anything to worry about but I just wanted to spend today with you." you voiced your frustration to her.

She scooped you up, carrying you to you guys' room, "I'm glad you know that I only have eyes for you. And plus, I am so not her type."

"You don't have to be her type for her to not want me around," you mumbled under your breath, still ashamed at your own pettiness.

"I heard that," Abby chuckled, "and I meant that she doesn't like girls."

A part of you felt stupid and embarrassed. Yet, not a big enough part for you to completely drop suspicions.

But that was only one out of the many other times she had coincidently showed up to hang or seek comfort from Abby, when you both intended on spending time together.

You even confronted Abby about it.

"I know how this may come off, but I'm not trying to limit how much you see your friends." you started, "but it gets to a point Abby. And either you're not seeing that she's taking advantage of your willingness to help and showing zero respect for what we have or you know and you're just not bothered by it. and quite frankly, I can't tell you which is worse!"

Abby heatedly responded, "She isn't taking advantage of anything! She's my friend and if she needs my help I won't hesitate to give it to her. Why are you making it out to be a bad thing that I care about my friends?"

You huffed in frustration, "I'm not talking about your other friends though am I Abby? I'm talking about Mari. Specifically, Mari. If she doesn't have feelings for you, she clearly doesn't like or respect me, and if you have no problem with either of those then I think you need to think a little harder about the future status of our relationship from here on out. I don't want to argue or make things worse but I'm getting tired of sounding like a broken record."

She went quiet at that, seemingly thinking it over.

After a moment of silence, Abby spoke up, “Look, baby. I'm sorry you've been feeling that way and I've been of no help. but I've already told you that she's straight-"

You sighed, rolling your eyes in disbelief. How could she still not get it?

"-But!" she interrupted your huff, "I trust you. If she doesn't make you feel respected then I'll take care of it."

You didn't look convinced.

"I'll have a chat with her. Don't worry, babe."

And Abby did come through on her promise to talk to her. The only thing was, Mari didn't exactly follow through with giving you guys space.

For the time being after Abby had spoken to her, she gave what you took as a half-hearted apology, stating she didn't mean to intrude or make it seem like she didn't care. But not very long after, she continued her usual behaviour. Just in a more careful way now that she knew you were keeping an eye on her.

So, to say your suspicion at yet another one of her intrusions was warranted, was an understatement in your opinion.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Abby asked, guiding a still attached Mari towards the living room. You closed the door behind them.

She divulged into how much her breakup from 2 months ago was still affecting her, claiming that a resurfaced picture of her and her ex triggered her that morning. In your eyes; bullshit. It seemed Abby could also see the crap for once, turning to make eye contact with you.

You raised your eyebrows at her as she turned back to face Mari, telling her to go wait for her in their bedroom.

When Mari left for your room and Abby and you were left alone, she started, "I know you're probably mad that we were interrupted, but she really is struggling a lot with this breakup."

You looked at her deadpan, already accepting that your perfect day at home with Abby was no more.

"And I know, her timing is unfortunate. again." You gave an oh really look, like you hadn't been pointing that out for the past 9 months.

You sighed, quite fed up with the same back and forth, "Just go help her Abby. Your friend needs you."

She looked at you, how apologetic she was evident on her face. But if she were truly sorry you wouldn't be having the same problem over and over.

She walked closer to you, holding your shoulder, "I'll go take care of it really quick, I promise. Then we can have the rest of the day to ourselves."

You scoffed, "That's not what I was concerned about but sure." Of course she still thought this was about you being petty or jealousy. Why couldn't she get it?

"Wha-"

"I'm gonna go get something for you guys from the shop. She'll want something sweet right?" You said, throwing on a coat and shoes, grabbing your wallet from the kitchen island where it remained the night before and heading out to your neighborhood mini mart.

After every argument and discussion you've had about this same issue, she still thinks it's a matter of being irritated at the intrusions? Well sure it was, to some extent, but this was so much more than that. And if Abby was gonna continue refusing to see the truth then this relationship could not last much longer.

Abby

"Sorry I took so long," Abby apologized to Mari, stepping into your and her room. Her friend was looking around your room, poking at the little trinkets and pictures littered around the area.

"It's fine," she responded, moving back to sit on the edge of the bed with Abby, "Is she mad? I know she doesn't like me."

"What? No, she doesn't not like you," Abby replied not so convincingly. Mari clearly wasn't convinced. "She's just..a bit frustrated I guess. We were gonna sleep in and do nothing today seeing as we're both off for the first time in forever." she chuckled.

Instead of feeling apologetic like a normal friend, Mari's facial expression changed to one resemblant to annoyance before she finally spoke up.

"Don't you think she's being a little unreasonable?"

Abby turned to her, confused. "Huh?"

Mari continued, "I mean. I'm not trying to imply anything bad about her but did she think she'd get to be the only person in your life now?" She finsihed with an eye roll and sickening smirk.

"What? No, that is not the case at all-"

"But it is!" Mari stood up, "She doesn't like me hanging around you. It's like she wants you all to herself or something. It's weird."

Now Abby was irritated, "Mar you don't know what you're talking about. If she gave off that impression it's because the times you choose to show up are when we don't want to be interrupted. Which is pretty often if I'm being honest." Abby stood up too, matching her friend's energy.

"What do you mean 'we'? You can't actually agree with her? We were friends before you even met her."

"Yeah but that doesn't mean I'm just supposed to choose you over her!" Abby was infuriated that Mari could ever think that way, immediately jumping to your defense.

"She's my girlfriend. And we see and talk to each other enough, quite frankly. I get to hang out with you more than I get to with her because we're both always busy, so yeah. If I were her I'd be a little frustrated if every time I finally got the chance to be alone with my girlfriend, her friend was suddenly showing up!"

Mari looked taken aback at the tone Abby had taken with her. She had never spoken like that to anyone, let alone her friend.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have raised my voice."

Expertly, Mari broke down in tears covering her face. Now Abby felt double bad. She was already going through so much and instead of being a comfort, all Abby could do was yell at her.

She quickly pulled her friend into her arms, caressing her head while repeating how sorry she was. Mari looked up into Abby's eyes, gradually bringing her face closer and closer to hers. Neither of them heard the front door open and your footsteps coming closer to the room.

As soon as the room door opened, you saw Mari on her tiptoes, lips pressed against Abby's. Abby immediately turned to where you stood in the open door, not realizing the compromising position she was in until you dropped the bag you held. Your face angrily held a Now do you see? expression as you slammed the bedroom door behind you, retreating to the living room. You had no interest in hearing what she could possibly have to say.

Just as you stormed out, Abby pushed Mari away from being so close to her and called out for you. "Baby, wait!"

"What the fuck was that?!" Abby bitterly asked her soon to be ex-friend, roughly wiping the feeling of Mari off her lips.

"I- I'm sorry, I just- I've liked you for so long-" Abby scoffed looking away from Mari's face, fuming, "-and- and she's no good for you! I'm sorry but you know it too, she's toxic Abby!"

Abby raised her eyebrows, eyes widening at the sheer insanity Mari was spewing, "The only toxic one here is you Mari! You know she warned me about this. I can't believe I didn't believe her."

"Wha- see?! She warned you about me? Who does she even think she is, she just got here! I've been your friend for years!"

"Too bad, so sad mari," Abby taunted, finally fed up with her, "Who she is, is my girlfriend and you're not going to get in the way of that. So while I'm asking nicely, get the fuck out of my house I never want to see you again."

Mari looked at her dumbfounded. Like she couldn't believe the words she was hearing.

"Out! now!" Abby demanded, following Mari out of the room. Mari, accepting this really was the end, stormed out of the front door completely ignoring your presence. You sat at the kitchen island watching Abby from across the room.

Reader

You looked at Abby who was now making her way towards you. She felt the anger in your muted facial expression, knowing she fucked up. Bad.

"I- you were right." You didn't say anything, continuing to stare at her.

"Believe me when I say, I really had no idea she felt that way and was trying to get in the way, I gave her the benefit of the doubt but I shouldn't have dismissed your skepticism. I should have known better than to think you'd have an issue with her for a reason so silly as plain jealousy.”

You didn't grace her with a response this time either. She came closer, placing her hands on your thighs, looking into your eyes.

"You told me so and I let it get to this point and I am so so so sorry, I promise she won't be an issue anymore. I told her off, for good this time."

Your jaw was clenched, teeth grinding against each other as you tried to muster up the courage to forgive her. A single tear ran down your face, your eyes red in anger and frustration and sadness. she tried wiping the tear from your cheek but you brushed her hand away, finally speaking up.

"No." you said, shaking your head as you got up from the seat in the kitchen.

Abby looked frantic, "Wh-what do you mean 'No'? I told you I was sorry, I- i took care of it." She trailed after you.

You moved through the living room, heading straight to open the front door. Abby quickly stopped you, using her strength to hold the door ajar so you couldn't leave just yet, "Where are you going?" Her voice sounded shaky.

"I need some space, Abby. Please?" you asked, not looking her in the eye. You couldn't handle seeing the pain in her eyes. You needed to think about yourself right now.

Time and time again, you've shut out your own gut feelings to please Abby. Insistent on there being no ulterior motives on Mari's part, you trusted her. Maybe you were just jealous. Maybe you were too possessive of Abby. But jealousy was not such a blinding emotion that you were rendered unresponsive to disrespect.

She respects you. She respects us. You believed her again.

Yet here you stood. Relationship hanging on by a spider silk thread.

She begrudgingly let you go, trusting you'd not too long be back. Your mental bags were already packed, however, and there was no coming back.

a/n: sooo how we feeling bout that one?? idk tbh. also are mini marts a thing in the land of capitalism (america)? I've literally never been there so if they aren't, just pretend if you're american. (it's in the name, it's like a little supermarket/shop usually walking distance from housing areas. you're never really too far away from a mini mart in the caribbean) . also, it's crazy to me how subconsciously my default when writing is to relate to an american audience (I hate yall so bad for that, jk jk, or am i). like where I live, coats are utterly unnecessary. no one wears a coat that isn't a rain coat unless it's part of a fit and they're going to one of the colder malls typically up north, idk I just found that funny.

anyway I'll stop yapping and continue writing the other requests I've gotten. mwah! love yall. thanks for reading!!

[mischievousmoony]

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸 ⟡ 𝚓𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜' 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕

⟢ james potter x fem!reader

⟢ summary: modern restaurant au; after training with james for a few weeks, people have started calling you his . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁1.3k

⟢ warnings/tags: coworker!james, coworker!marauders, slightly anxious!reader, not proofread

⟢ the new hire masterlist ⟡ main masterlist

note: i hate seafood but i keep putting it on my fictional restaurants menu ? kept this one pretty simple so i could get it out there <3

"Crab cakes, go." James says, eyes darting up from the menu he's holding to look at you from across the rickety staff room table.

You don't miss a beat, describing the dish as you would to a customer, "The crab cakes are one of our most popular appetizers. They're pan seared and served with sofrito escabeche, a zesty blend of onions, bell peppers, and tomatoes—so I highly recommend them if you're looking for something tangy—and they have a to die for berbere aioli drizzle."

"Tell me more about the berbere aioli. What is that?" James questions, playing the part of a curious customer.

"The berbere aioli is a spicy-chili sauce that I'd say is just shy of medium in terms of spice level. It complements the crab cakes really well, but you could always order it on the side if you're not too sure about it."

"That's my girl," James praises, "You're a quick learner, you know that?"

"I don't know about that," you protest, looking down at your hands that lay politely folded on the table in front of you. You try to mentally will yourself not to blush at James' approval.

"It's barely over a week since you started and you know this thing like the back of your hand," James argues, gently tossing the menu down as he leans back in his chair, "And there's so little time to sit and study here."

You have a funny look on your face when you meet James' eyes again, eliciting a gasp from him.

"You've been studying the menu outside of work, haven't you?" he squints, speaking in an accusatory tone.

"Shouldn't I?" you ask, and the fact that it's a genuine question has James clutching his chest over his heart.

"No! You never think about work unless you're getting paid!"

"How else am I supposed to learn this whole menu in a timely manner?" you cross your arms defensively.

"Who said anything about a timely manner, Love. I was weeks out of training before I had the whole thing down."

"Yeah, well you're more..." you trail off, trying to find the words.

"More what?" James is quick to sound defensive.

You put your hands up as a sign of innocence, "Just laid back. You're a go with the flow kind of guy. As opposed to me, who's more-"

James interjects, "Stuck in your head," nodding along without a doubt that that's what you were going to say.

You look at James, a bit of surprise and alarm swirling around in the pit of your stomach. He was spot on, but how could he possibly be? He barely knows you, after all.

"What?" James seems to sense your confusion, "I've noticed the turmoil in those eyes of yours. You're doing it right now."

You look bashful, so James graciously changes the subject.

"Whatever, just promise me you won't ever think about this place when you're off the clock again!"

"Promise," you agree, despite his request being impossible.

For whatever reason, your mind seems to always be on work. Not even in a stressed, overthinking way like you'd expect from yourself. It seemed to be little random tidbits from work infiltrating your mind throughout your days. Like sometimes, you randomly think of a joke James said once. Or you see something funny and want to show it to him. Or you think about how nice James is when you mess something up.

Okay, maybe they're not so random after all.

"What're you thinking about?" James interrupts your thoughts.

Just as you're about to start stammering through an excuse, Mary pops her head into the room.

"There you guys are!" she says, "I just sat you guys. Table six."

"Thanks, Mary. We'll be right there." James responds.

"I had Peter bring them some waters because I couldn't find you guys for a while—oh, he's back today by the way, did you know?" Mary asks, but doesn't stick around for James to answer, "I have to get back. Table six, guys!" Her voice echoes the reminder as she's already disappeared from your sights.

James shakes his head at her, amused by the way she jumps from one thing to the next without taking a breath.

"Peter?" you question as you and James begin to stand from the table.

"Yeah, he does bussing and some food running, a helping hand for us servers, really. He was on vacation." James explains as you follow him out into the dining room.

Your eyes fall on table six, a table for two that beholds two kind looking older ladies.

"You think you can handle this?" James juts his chin in their direction.

"Yeah," you say confidently. You have already taken the lead on some tables while James supervised. So far, it's been going well. Your first table you had to ask James to help answer some questions—maybe that's why you wanted to learn the menu so quick, it made you feel sheepish—but after that one time, James hasn't had any notes.

"Alright, I'm gonna check on our other tables then."

"Wait," you gave yourself whiplash with the way you craned your neck swiftly to look at him, "You meant handle it alone?"

"Yeah," James looks down at you reassuringly, his eyes filled with warmth, "You can do it."

"Uhh-? No, what if I-"

"Get out of that pretty little head of yours," he interrupts, "You've got this."

The sincerity in his tone incited a bit of confidence in you.

"Okay, okay. Okay sure," your shaky voice became a little more steady with each word, and you started walking to the table.

"Wait!" James carefully takes hold of your wrist. The progress you had made in easing your nerves is out the window.

"You'll need this," James slides his server book out from his apron and held it out to you.

"Right," you say quietly, smiling as you took it from him.

His hand fell from your wrist as he bid you good luck. He watches you for a moment as you greet the table, a proud gleam in his eyes.

Marlene appears beside James, a tray of waters and soft drinks balancing on her palm, "Your girl's taking orders on her own now?"

"Just the one table for today," James replies.

Marlene hums approvingly and saunters off to deliver the drinks.

James registers her words only when she's already left, "Wait, my who now?" he asks the wall.

His furrowed brows relax as he decides he kind of likes the sound of it.

After checking on your other tables, getting refills and putting new food orders in, James notices a congregation of his coworkers at the host stand so he decides to join in.

"Who's that?" Peter asks, swinging a rag over his shoulder.

Lily follows Peter's gaze to you, who's delivering some bread and butter to table six.

"James' girl?" Lily questions, "She started last week, she's been doing pretty well so far I think."

"Any reason in particular we're calling her that?" James decides to ask on his approach, having heard that phrase twice in under ten minutes.

"Ah, well, she hardly talks to anyone else." Marlene drawls.

"Eh, she's just a bit skittish," James provides an excuse for you, "it's kind of cute."

Lily and Mary share a look.

James continues, "She'll get used to you guys soon enough, just be nice." He really only says the last part to Marlene.

"I am nice," she defends.

"Well, you're not mean," Mary offers and Marlene scowls at her.

James chuckles, and turns to Peter, "How 'ave you been, mate?"

Peter opens his mouth to share details of his vacation, but he's interrupted.

"What are you all doing up here?" Nate hisses, appearing suddenly as if out of thin air, "You know how bad it looks for nearly my entire staff to be slacking off in the front of the restaurant?"

Before anyone can disperse or defend themselves, Nate continues, "And you're supposed to be training, Potter. Where's your girl?"

"Me?" your choked voice rings from behind him.

Everyone peers over at you, standing there shellshocked and blushing with a pitcher of water in your hands.

[twola]

Passerine : Chapter 4

PAIRING: High Honor Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader

Green-scarved attackers leave you and Arthur in a precarious place - forced to address the impasse between you.

Warnings: This fic has graphic descriptions of non-consensual sex, violence against women, the trauma thereafter, and somewhat unhealthy coping mechanisms. If any of that content makes you feel uncomfortable or triggers you, this may not be the fic for you.

Told you it wouldn't be a year between updates :)

But seriously - I love hearing from you guys - that really helped push me to get this out more timely.

➵ AO3 Link ➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ Previous | ➵ Next

You wipe your brow against the heat. If you thought Clemens was hot, Shady Belle was goddamn sweltering. The nape of your neck was never dry, and the ends of your hair curled around your face from the humidity.

“Hey there.” 

You look up from the tub of dishes you were scrubbing behind Pearson’s wagon. Susan has finally given you some leeway, and the tub was dragged to a shady spot to give you at least a little bit of a reprieve from the heat.

But not much.

“Hey.”

Arthur stands in front of you, heaving a heavy sack of corn off his shoulder to the dirt below. He grunts slightly, circling his shoulder, before righting his hat and moving closer into your personal space.

“How’re you feelin’ this morning?” He asks, dipping his hands into the water quickly and shaking the wetness from his fingers. He stuffs his hand into his satchel and grabs his worn leather riding gloves, pulling them on.

“Same as yesterday. Hot and fat.” You respond, sighing as you roll your shoulders with a near-imperceptible wince. Your gaze settles on the tub of dirty dishes in front of you.

That gets a small smile out of him. A silence settles between the two of you as he wriggles his fingers on one hand, the leather sticking and whining with each stretch of his digits.

“How’s your shoulder?” You nod up to him, still not making eye contact.

“Feelin’ fine, you ain’t gotta worry about me.” He nods, intently staring at the soapy water in front of you.

You frown before looking back in the tub as well.

It’s a strange space you’re in right now. Your stomach is swollen up and your back starting to sway. You still had a couple of months before the child’s arrival. You’ve had to shed your layers even further from Clemens, where an old cotton shift is nearly all you can fit in at this point. Tilly and Mary Beth were working on a few dresses for you, but they weren’t done yet.

“You was up early.” He says, searching for words to continue the conversation - unfortunately, it wasn’t going well.

“Ain’t sleeping much these days.”

Arthur simply murmurs in response.

Up in the room of that old plantation house, Arthur’s bedroll remains on the floor, to which you complained, but he would hear none of you sleeping on the ground in your condition.

Sharing a bed was never brought up. It was a canyon between the two of you - the more your belly grew, the more you withdrew from him. You didn’t talk about it. About the baby. About the future. Arthur was unfortunately relegated to watch you grow and not address any of it. He didn’t know what to do - were you going to stay this way until the day you gave birth?

“I’m sure Abigail is grateful to John and you and Dutch for bringing Jack back.” You whisper quietly, looking at the boy running around the old abandoned fountain, an unfortunate breeding pit for mosquitos.

“Maybe John will step up after this.” Arthur eyes the shadow behind Jack.

John sits in the decrepit gazebo, carving what looks like a child’s toy in his hand. It was comical in some ways, fearsome looking, scarred John, working on a toy for his son. Finally, after so long, it seems that he is starting to acknowledge the poor boy - having gone through some kind of terror when he was taken.

He and Abigail hadn’t yelled at each other in a day - there’s a secret wager among the girls about how long it is that is going to last.

Karen bet the high end, having kept the knowledge that Abigail was in John’s room this morning to herself.

You breathe out heavily through your knows and let a low groan out, one hand on your lower back swayed under the weight of the child growing within.

He wants to reach out and touch you. He almost does, for a moment, spread his hand out over your belly, to try and feel for movement. He wants to pull your chemise up and press against your bare skin. He wants to worship your changing body.

But every time he tries to bring up the baby, you shut down. That darkness under your eyes returns. This chasm widens.

He steps one step closer, his hand moving to his gun belt, as was apt to happen in times of discomfort.

“Y’ want to go into town? I’ll take you.”

Your eyes move back to the dishes, and you fish the next dirty one from the tub.

“Not really. I’m fine.”

Arthur frowns but acquiesces. He bids you a good day before heading out to the hitching post, off to head back into town to meet Trelawney to discuss the next job.

-

Your spry gelding has been woefully neglected, you being unable to ride the way you want. He stands bored amongst the other horses, listless while you can’t give him a good run.

“Kieran.”

The poor boy almost drops his coffee, fear alight in his eyes for a moment. “Y-yes ma’am? Does Mr. Morgan need anythin’?”

“What, Arthur? No. I’m asking for a favor.”

“O-oh! Of course! What d’ya need?”

“It’s been a while since my boy’s had a hard ride… obviously I can’t-” you motion to your abdomen.

“Oh, oh! A-absolutely. I can take ‘im out for a ride.”

“Well I was wondering if I could come along… maybe just to get out of camp and watch you run him in the field. I’m so bored here.” You sigh. 

“You sure that Arthur ain’t gonna come after us?” Kieran asks concernedly.

“I’m sure it ain’t any of Arthur’s business. Besides, it won’t be like we’re going far. Maybe on the other side of that old battlefield near the Braithewaite’s land. Plenty of room out there.” You scowl, offended that Kieran insinuated you needed Arthur’s permission to function. God, you were pregnant, not an invalid.

Kieran looks hurriedly to the ground before quickly shuffling over toward your horse, who finally picks up his head and whinnies excitedly as his reins are untied from the hitching post.

You follow, smiling and brushing down your horse’s mane, whispering sweet affections to him as Kieran adjusts the saddle. After a few moments, he steps back to allow you to get yourself up on the horse.

Okay, maybe you were a bit invalid right now.

“Uh, can you… help me a bit?” 

Kieran blazes red for a moment before nodding, awkwardly placing his hands on your waist and helping heave you up on the horse’s rump. He climbs into the saddle and meekly leads the two of you toward the old battlefield and the road toward Braithwaite Manor. 

After a slow, hot walk to the open meadow, the two of you finally reach it. He quietly helps you slide off the horse’s rump and into the long grass of the meadow, where you take a few steps to stand under the shade of a tree.

Kieran then digs his spurs into your gelding’s side and the horse bolts, rearing before galloping off through the meadow. You lean against the tree, idly rubbing your hand over your growing stomach as you watch Kieran ride your horse hard, getting a good run out of him. It’s a good half hour of circling the meadow at various speeds before they slowly plod back to you.

“Ah, there’s my boy!” You pat his mane affectionately as your gelding pants, satisfied. Kieran leans on the pommel with one arm, smiling for once.

“He’s a good boy. I can make sure I take ‘im out every couple days for a run-” The man frowns slightly again, “with your permission, of course, ma’am.”

You nearly roll your eyes at him. 

“First, you’re doin’ me a favor, stop calling me ma’am. Second-”

A gunshot cracks far too close to you and your gelding rears, screeching as Kieran tries to calm him. You’ve stumbled back a few steps, clutching at your belly with one hand.

“Kieran Duffy, you’re a goddamn dead man!” 

Cold steel is pressed between your shoulder blades and your stomach drops to your feet.

One, two, three, four armed men encircle you and Kieran, who hushes your gelding. For a moment, his hand hovers over the gun on his hip, but you groan in pain as the barrel of a repeater digs into your back. A large hand clamps down on your arm roughly.

Two men muscle their way over to your horse and proceed to drag Kieran down from him, his face slamming against the red Lemoyne dirt.  The men start to kick at the adopted Van der Linde, and the unfortunate man tries to curl up in a fetal position but it is of no help. His gasps and moans of pain start to fill the air, overpowering the cicadas in the humid afternoon.

You just stare at the green scarves around their necks and bite your lip hard enough to make yourself bleed.

“C’mon, Colm’s waiting.”

-

The ropes chafe around your wrists as the O’Driscoll pushes you forward. You try your damndest not to stumble, and it is some small mercy that your wrists are bound in front of you as compared to behind you. Your dress, the old short-sleeved shift, is now dirty beyond any salvation and covered in horse hair and mud. Your captors were kind enough to place you on a horse sitting up, as compared to slinging you over the horse’s rump as they did to Kieran.

“This boy you’re associating with here… he’s done some real wrongs against us. Gotta assume that you have too if you’re with him.” The man grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him.

A few hours of riding later, you’re out of the swamps before the men stop, guiding their horses off the northward road and into a small wooded glade as the hills start to rise. You vaguely recognize the area - it's not too far from Clemens, near the state line with New Hanover. The four men that found you had a campsite set up just off the road.

Kieran tries to muscle in between you and the O’Driscoll, his hands bound behind him, bruises blooming bright across his face. 

“She ain’t got nothin to -” 

Kieran’s plea is cut short with the sickening wet sound of blood bursting from his nose as the butt of a revolver whips across his face. He crumbles to the ground as you gasp. You stoop down to try to reach him, and as he rolls into a seated position, the blood from his face drips all over your dress as he coughs. You try to stymie the blood with the hem of your skirt but with your wrists bound, you just end up getting it all over yourself and him.

“Pretty sure I didn’t ask you, y’dumb sack of shit.”

Kieran gets yanked away from you, whimpering, and dragged further from the campfire back toward the woodline by two of the other men, rough and tumble and dirty. You’re pulled up roughly by your arm as your captor sizes you up. He pauses as you recapture your balance.

“You-you're that girl from up in Cumberland that ol’ Donal dragged back in-” The O’Driscoll sneers with recognition, “Said your cunny was one of the tightest one’s he’d plowed-” 

You recoil in revulsion, a physical reaction to the man’s reference to your assault. His coy and callous words about the rape that haunts you each and every day. The man’s eyes dart down to your abdomen, and your hands shoot up to cover it as if to hide your pregnancy from him.

“You got a damn O’Driscoll in your belly!” He howls in laughter, pointing at the child that grows within you.

Something deep and ancient and animalistic within you snaps like a leather whip. Suddenly this child in your belly wasn’t a burden. Suddenly the circumstances of its beginning didn’t matter. Suddenly, this raggedy outlaw in front of you was threatening your child. You scowl, your hands protectively over your stomach, the child agitated within, kicking at you as your blood rises. Righteous anger, for the first time since your ordeal, courses through your veins.

“My baby ain't no O’Driscoll,” You hiss, your bound hands clenching in rage, “This baby is Arthur Morgan’s - ‘nd he’s gonna come and skin you alive.” 

The hot anger sizzling through your blood, you know, would match Arthur’s. You can see, in your mind’s eye, your lover coming in, guns blazing, ready to tear anyone who threatens you and your child limb from limb.

A flash of something crosses the O’Driscoll’s face. Maybe fear, maybe recognition. His haughty smirk falls. Annoyed, he yanks you forward and forces you to your knees as you yell obscenities at him. Your hands are then bound behind you and the ropes threaded through the spokes of the wagon wheel you are forced to sit against.

The soft crackles of the fire ten feet away and the chirp of the crickets are foreboding in your gut - and for good reason. 

Kieran’s screams echo through the night and are a sound you will never forget.

-

“What do you mean you haven’t seen her? How th’ hell do you lose a pregnant woman?” Arthur stomps through the front door of the plantation house with Sadie trailing behind. 

“I ain't babysittin’ her Arthur - I’m just sayin’ I haven't seen her since this mornin’.”

“Arthur-” Dutch calls from the stairs, “Come up here, son - we have to talk. Missus Adler, will you excuse us?”

Arthur lets out a long breath through his nose. “Comin’-” he yells up to Dutch, and turns to Sadie, “Will you go find her? She’s been a goddamn hellcat with how angry gets nowadays.”

Sadie rolls her eyes, “Gosh Arthur, I wonder why.”

Arthur waves his hand at Sadie dismissively as he bounds up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He moves through the room where Dutch has stored his gramophone and the camp funds to find the older man out on the balcony. 

Dutch smokes a cigar, looking out on the decrepit fountain in the front of the manor below. He holds another one in his fingers, offering it to Arthur as he comes closer. Arthur grunts and takes the cigar, pulling a box of matches out of his satchel with the other hand.

Dutch motions toward the skyline of Saint Denis in the distance, barely visible over the cypress trees in the swamp. “Now… the trolley bus station…” The cigar’s end glows red between his fingers, “I went down there… I took a look at it… I think we can hit it.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow as he lights his cigar, puffing it to get it lit before holding it between his fingers, “I ain’t never robbed in a city before,” he replies with uncertainty.

Dutch smirks with that boisterous smile that Arthur has known for years. “Yeah, well you leave the planning to me, You’ll ride with me?”

“Always.”

Dutch grabs Arthur’s shoulder to reassure him. “Gonna get enough to get on a boat. Raise that kid o’yours on a mango farm, with no worries in the world.”

Arthur frowns, at both the mention of the baby and this harebrained idea of going to Tahiti of all places. Dutch senses his trepidation.

Dutch sighs, looking out over the balcony as a plume of smoke drifting upwards. He squints up the road leading toward Scarlett Meadows, placing his hands on the worn railing, “What the–”

Mary Beth’s scream cuts through the quiet.

-

Sadie Adler is quite unperturbed by the blood spattered all over her blouse. Frankly, she seems quite comfortable partly drenched in the lifeblood of O’Dricolls - doling out her divine justice for the wrongs hoisted upon her.

Arthur, however, is mad as a grizzly bear. 

“The last time I saw her she was with ‘im.” Sadie nods at poor Kieran’s headless body, where Javier and Bill hoist him up for burial outside of camp. Orville Swanson seems suddenly quite sober as he holds the decapitated head, slowly trailing the other two.

Arthur grinds his teeth so hard that most of the state could probably hear him. Scowling, he surveys the carnage outside the old house before stalking toward the horses, some of them having broken their hitches and darted further into the woods.

“Charles!” Arthur barks, “Missus Adler.”

Sadie nods, shouldering her rifle. Charles joins in, trotting from where he had just thrown a corpse into the bayou to follow the other two over to the horses from the old plantation house.

John Marston leads Old Boy out of the woods and swings up on him, leading the half-bred to where the other three horses have gathered.

“Marston.” 

“You helped me get my son back. I ain’t… Ain’t gonna stand by watchin’ you try to get yours back.`` John adjusts the strap of his repeater across his chest. 

Arthur simply grunts, too aggravated to show any thanks. He digs his spurs into his horse’s side, and with a high whinny, Arthur urges the mare into a gallop as they leave the plantation. Taima, Bob, and Old Boy fall in line.

He grips his revolver hard, standing in his saddle as the mare runs blisteringly fast up the road, through the old battlefields, and north into Scarlett Meadows.

-

The shouts and yells and gunshots have you huddling against the wagon wheel, your arms scream in pain as you try to tug at your bindings, your knees drawn up close to try and shield your belly from whoever is rolling in on your captors. Was it more O’Driscolls? Was it Lemoyne Raiders? 

A pair of boots sidle up in front of you. You look up in fear, your heart racing, and a gasp escapes your mouth as you stare up at the owner of said boots.

Arthur stands in front of the wagon, his whole body heaving with labored breaths. Blood is spattered up the side of his face, his hands tightly around a shotgun, still cocked and smoking from its obvious use.

“Darlin’-” 

Overwhelmed, you moan and start to collapse forward. He moves with a speed that betrays how wound up he still is from the fight, throwing his shotgun to the ground and catching you, whipping out his knife from its sheath and cutting the ropes that bind your arms.

Immediately, he heaves you up in his arms as if you were nothing as he stands up from his knee. With his arms looped behind your back and under your knees, he crushes you to himself for a moment.

“Are you hurt? What’s all this blood?” Arthur frets, looking over your bloodstained shift, eyes darting over your belly, searching for a possible injury where it was coming from.

Instead of answering you throw your arms around his neck, burying your head into his collarbone. 

“Sweetheart, y’gotta tell me-”

“The blood is Kieran’s,” You croak, “Ain’t mine… I’m alrigh’... we’re alrigh’.” You trail off and then begin to weep into Arthur’s shirt.

You can almost hear his jaw clench. A darkness shrouds his face as he carries you back into the campsite, shot up and full of bodies. You turn to see the carnage.

Sadie continues to loot the bodies of the fallen O’Driscolls, kicking each one as she finishes for good measure. Charles walks Arthur’s mare and Taima from the woodline where they had ditched the horses. 

Arthur’s shotgun is picked up from the ground. Clutching once more at Arthur’s shirt, you make eye contact with John Marston, who stares back at you with an unreadable expression.

-

The door latches behind you - at least as much as it can physically latch, and silence finally falls in this old room, the oil lamp throwing yellow-orange light and casting shadows around the room. The floorboards creak under the heavy footfall of Arthur’s boots as he moves toward the center of the room, one by one taking the weapons off of his person.

A repeater was laid against the table. A rifle balanced on his clothing chest. He shrugs off his bloodstained brown leather jacket and tosses it to the floor before looking back up at you. The simmering vein of anger in his blood seems to have been assuaged on the ride back, where he clutched you in his arm tight enough that the devil himself would have to pry you from his grasp.

“Y’sure you're okay? Y’sure all that blood ain't yours?”

You nod, trying to stave off the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes, failing miserably as your chin quivers and your lips purse. Arthur yanks his hat off and lets it drop on the table as he closes the distance between you. 

“Sweetheart-”

His hands reach toward you, but you immediately grab him by the wrists before he has a chance to pull you into his embrace. Pulling his hands downward, you place them broadly across your belly, his eyes widening as he spreads his fingers out over the swell. You place your own hands over his, pressing against them so he can feel the movement beneath your skin.

His cornflower-blue eyes track up to yours, and with a shuddering sob, the wall you’d been building between yourself and him finally crumbles.

“I-it’s yours-,” your voice cracks as tears freely flow down your face, “It’s yours, Arthur. This baby is yours and mine a-and-”

He removes one hand from your belly and pulls you into his warm embrace, kissing the top of your head gently as he traces soft circles on your skin with the remaining hand.

“Always was, darlin’.” The timbres of his low voice are comforting as you weep into his work shirt. “Like I told ya - that child is mine. I'm gonna be its pa.”

You sob harder into his warmth, your fingers tightening in the fabric as you clutch at him. One of his hands finds your lower back and gently rubs circles in soothing motions. 

“No.. no I mean…He… didn’t, he didn’t-” you stutter, hiccuping.

“Y’ain’t gotta say anything bout him-” Arthur cups the back of your head, trying to prevent you from going down that road.

“I- I don’t know why it was stuck in my head. Like I couldn’t think it was possible that it wasn’t his… but - but he ain’t, it’s not…”

“Sweetheart-”

“He didn’t finish in me. It - it was only once and he didn’t finish in me.” You spit out, as if the words were venom in your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut against your body's physical reaction: a shudder of revulsion as past scenes invade your mind again. But speaking it aloud, getting it out in the open, there was something freeing about it.

Arthur clutches you to him, tucking his chin against the crown of your head.

“N-None of them O’Driscolls touched me.” You whimper into his chest.

You feel his arms tighten around you, as he breathes in to seemingly center himself again, the rage from before threatening to lash out once again.

“I’m still gonna hunt down every one of them and -” He snarls lowly before you bury your face into his chest, 

“Don’t. Don’t - don’t leave me. I need you here.”

He breathes out slowly, calming himself down before he cups the back of your head. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

After a moment to collect yourself, you look up at him, one of your hands tracing up his broad chest, his neck, your fingers weaving through his short beard.

“Arthur,” you sniffle, rubbing at your wet cheek with the back of your other hand.

“You don’t gotta do anythin’.” He interjects, his thumb catching your jaw before wiping the opposite cheek.

Your brow crinkles and you step up on your toes and press your lips to his forcefully, which he meets your fervor almost immediately.

You open your mouth to him and he groans lowly, drawing you even closer in his embrace, awkward with the swell of your child between you. 

He draws away from your lips slowly, and his hands trace up your body to cup your cheeks gently - far too gently for a gunslinging outlaw. 

“What d’ya want, sweetheart?” His low voice rumbles before he presses his lips to your forehead. You let out a breath and lean into him, reaching up on your toes to press your lips against his again, arms wound around his torso. Your belly presses against his, preventing you from melting fully into his arms.

The words tumble from your lips before you can stop them. 

“Will you touch me?”

So long ago, you had timidly asked him that in front of a campfire in West Elizabeth. You had begged him, pleaded, to have him take away the pain and memory of your ordeal. To have the last person who touched you do it out of love, not power and control.

Arthur smiles, like the morning sunrise, and draws you up for another kiss.

“Ain’t nothin’ I'd like more to do.”

There are several more moments of kissing, the wet sounds of mouths meeting the only sound in the room before Arthur bends to pick you up, hooking his arm beneath your knee and carrying you to the rickety old bed, laying you down gently with a kiss to your forehead.

“I ain’t… I’ve never done this with someone in your… condition.” Arthur stutters sheepishly as he slides one of his suspenders down his arms.

You smile and reach up to grab the other suspender and peel it downward. “I’ll be okay. Just be gentle.”

The cotton straps swing by his side as he leans over to take his boots off, they clunk to the floor heavily as he tosses them away. He leans over you and works your boots off, tossing them to the floor in a pile near his own.

Hands move slowly - gently, with purpose. His shirt falls to the floor. Your bloodstained skirt follows. The ruined blouse. They all pile on the floorboards until your lace-trimmed chemise is all that covers your body. You give a lopsided grin as he reaches toward your neckline. 

“What?” He grins, tracing up to one shoulder and pushing the strap down your bicep.

“Reckon I look a little different since the last time we did this.”

The cotton is peeled downward, exposing your swollen breast and darkened nipple. 

“Reckon you’re even more beautiful now.” He drawls before fully leaning over you and pressing his lips against the top of your breast, and you mewl in response, your sensitivity so heightened as he works his way down, letting his tongue lave over your nipple. You arch your back, chasing the feeling, whimpering as his lips close around your nipple and gently suck upon it for a moment.

Your fingers weave into his hair, and you yelp as he sucks harder, yanking on his hair in overstimulation. His mouth pops off your nipple as he rears up immediately, concern alight in his eyes.

“S’okay - just a little sensitive.” You ruffle his hair affectionately as he whispers an apology, sheepish as he leans up to kiss you quickly, his grip on you not nearly as strong. 

“C’mon now,” you pull your chemise over your head, tossing it over the bed and moving one of his hands to your hip to push down your drawers. Arthur’s breath stutters as his hand traces back up your thigh as you kick the bloomers off, some of his earlier fear and reticence leaving him. 

“Christ,” he breathes against your skin as he buries his face in the curve of your neck, “Yer so beautiful like this.”

His large hand dips between your legs and you whimper as you spread them to grant access. His fingers immediately part your folds and it’s only half a moment before he finds that little nub of your pleasure, circling it with his finger as you begin to mewl softly, your eyes fluttering closed as he leans over you.

You stutter in gasping notes, needy whines filling the room as he touches you. He rumbles his assent, pleased, “It’s been killin’ me not to touch you.”

“Really?” You breathe, and he takes the opportunity to slide his thick trigger finger into your cunt, and your back arches in response.

“Course- you, you’re,” he stops and groans in your ear as he pulls his finger out, near dripping with your essence, “You’re the prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen, carrying’ my child.”

“Yours.” You croon in response.

He agrees with a smirk, knowing he’s finally helped pull you from the abyss of denial, “Mine. Just like you, yer my girl.”

Arthur slides his finger back in. You gasp, high and flighty, blushing and needy. Your hands clutch at the old sheet laid out on the bed. 

His other hand brushes a few strands of your hair from your forehead, tucking them behind your ear. He smiles, dangerously fond, and leans over to press his lips to yours and smothers the noises of your pleasure.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the wet squelching of his hand, gently, slowly thrusting in and out between your spread legs. When he moves to hold himself above you again, he runs his gaze up and down your body - your bite-swollen lips, your heaving bosom - darkened nipples spit-slicked in the evening light.

The roundness of your belly where his child grows. 

By the time his gaze returns to your face, he finds you waiting. Your eyes open wide and searching for his. 

“Arthur.”

“Mm?” He nods, drawing his finger out from your body. You grab at his wrist to ground yourself.

“I want you.” 

Arthur smiles in response, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you lay on his bed. He stands up to his full height from where he leaned over you and unbuttons his pants, pushing down both them and the short drawers he had taken to wearing in the Lemoyne heat. After the fabric reaches his saddle-hewn thighs, it falls to the ground, pooling at his feet, leaving all six feet of him bare for you to see.

His hefty cock stands at attention, darkened with blood and wet at the tip. A testament to his reciprocated want.

“Here, turn over,” Arthur helps you to roll onto your side, facing the wall, and he slides into the bed next to you, its old wood creaking with the weight and movement. Arthur holds a hand tightly to your hip as you lay on your side away from him, squeezing affectionately as he settles in.

Flushed against your back, even with you large with child, Arthur dominates you, his arm curling up and over your torso. He’s warm and strong and hard against you.

“You tell me if anythin’ doesn’t feed good, alrigh’?” He rumbles into your ear as his hand, having moved down to your thigh, pulls your leg backward and over his own hip.

You nod vigorously, unable to articulate any words as you feel him guide his cock between your legs, tucking it between your folds and giving a few languid, gentle thrusts to coat himself in your slick. You grab at the hand spread out over your thigh and interlace your fingers; he squeezes your hand in response.

Arthur grits his teeth as pulls his hips back, the head of his cock catching on your opening. He presses inward, his hardened flesh pushing through the rim of your cunt. You gasp in return, feeling the first inches of him enter your body. 

He leans up on one elbow and presses his lips to your temple as you whimper.

“Okay?” He whispers, remaining still, only half buried in your warmth.

You whine a little and wiggle your hips, he groans as another inch of him slips in. He presses forward, fully sheathing himself in you, and you whimper again, cunt stuffed full of him.

He allows you time to accommodate him - the dual pressure of him and the child pressing on your hips is nearly painful in a way that you can’t get enough. You tip your head back, breathing out as your whole body presses back against his - even swollen with child, you feel small against him. All muscle and corded arms and his broad chest-

Arthur gives an experimental, shallow thrust of his hips. His cock halfway leaves you before pushing into you again. The whimpering escaping your mouth escalates into a moan, and he curls his body over yours, his stubble against your cheek, and you can feel him smile against you.

“There’s my girl.”

He does it again. And again, and again, until he is throwing his hips against yours, panting wildly in your ear as he fills your cunt over and over.

Arthur’s hand moves from under yours on your thigh to cradle your belly and the life growing within. You feel fit to burst - the fondness overflowing from your heart at his gesture, the rhythmic slapping of his skin against yours, the filling and emptying of your core with all of him - it is only moments before you stutter out a breathy jumble of words.

“M’ gonna-ngh- Arth… Arthur, I’m gonn-”

He holds himself still, a feat in itself, and rubs at your clit with two fingers, leaving you a gasping, shuddering mess as he works an orgasm out of you.

“There we go, there’s my girl.” He whispers again in your ear as you shudder and shake and gasp, his cock still buried to the hilt within you. As you come down from your high, he gently pulls out, laying on his back and grunting as he takes himself in hand, pumping his cock until he breathes out heavily, coming all over his belly as he finds his pleasure.

You lay still for a few moments more, recovering and catching your breath. You feel Arthur unwind himself from you and get up from the rickety bed. With some measure of difficulty, you turn yourself around, facing the room instead of the wall. One of your hands subconsciously begins drawing small circles on your stomach as you watch Arthur wipe his own clean of his spend with an old bandana.

Arthur tosses the soiled bandana to the ground. He goes to reach for a fresh union suit before you make a sound of disapproval.

“Come sleep with me.” You plead, and the smile he gives you in return assuages all fears as he drops the union suit and takes the last few steps between the bed and where he stood.

With a bit of finagling, he slides into bed and pulls the old blanket over the two of you.

He returns to you as you wind your arms around his neck, your naked bodies pressed against each other, the swell of your child between you. One of his hands rests on your belly, and for the first time in months, you fall asleep at peace.

[yellowjacketsfashion]

Things I Noticed About The Season 3 Wilderness Outfits:

• Mari isn’t wearing the pit girl nightgown. The style of dress is different and its details aren’t quite right, though I believe it’s probably intentional that it’s reminiscent to the Pit Girl dress.

• Lottie wears the same outfit as in the Vanity Fair photo shoot.

• Van appears to be wearing her doomcoming shirt.

• Shauna is once again wearing her Standard/Cloth flannel which she’s been seen wearing a lot in the season 3 content.

• Natalie is in the red striped shirt from Season 2 and the Season 3 filming announcement.

• Based off of what I can tell, I believe the two Entertainment Weekly photos come from the same episode/sequence. Besides Tai and Natalie everyone else that’s in both photos have the same outfits on.

• Melissa has a pink ball cap (her outfit staple).

• Misty had her Equipment Manager jacket.

• Natalie appears to be wearing a robe and since she’s now in charge, I wonder if maybe her and Tai’s outfits are supposed to be ceremonial?

• Tai is wearing Natalie’s gray hoodie (something up til this point hasn’t been shared amongst the group) underneath a blanket(?) though it doesn’t necessarily appear to be warmth related as 3 people in the photo have shorts on.

This clip from the trailer also appears to be from the same sequence as the Entertainment Weekly photo.

• Taissa wears the BDG Ringer shirt (previously seen in the filming announcement video) and her custom Levi’s jacket.

• Misty is wearing her gecko watch. Additionally, she appears to be wearing tights as a mask which I think is interesting as the rabbit acolyte also wears a mask made of tights (granted a bit differently).

• Taissa is wearing the same outfit as the clip where she says “this place will follow us the rest of our lives.” (The previous photo on the left).

• Akilah (in the back) appears to be wearing one of the woven acolyte vests.

• Van appears to be wearing the same outfit as the vanity fair photos.

• Akilah is wearing her urban outfitters sweater.

• Misty’s Acolyte costume is also seen though I can’t confirm if Misty is the one wearing it.

I know I promised this a while ago but I accidentally forgot it in my drafts… Sorry it’s taken so long! I couldn’t cover everything due to the photo limit so keep an eye out for part 2!

[nataliescatorccioapologist]

Character sightings in the 1998 rescue scene

(slowed down because each one is insanely brief)

Misty

Clearly relishing in the attention and press.

Taissa

Hiding as much as possible with the hat and the hood drawn tight around her face.

Natalie

Angrily pushing her hood down. And those grown out roooots (we can still see a little bit of blonde peeking out at the ends though).

Shauna

Highly reactive, pushes a reporter away and has to be held back.

Lottie

Sullen, checked out (until she screams of course).

Group shot

We can see Shauna and Lottie at the front (with Natalie possibly right behind Lottie with her head down?) and two other unknown people following them (Van and Travis?). We can’t see Van and Travis at all in the rescue scene, but we know they are both rescued, as well. I don’t think Liv Hewson and Kevin Alves were even on set that day because they aren’t featured in any of the BTS videos of shooting this scene.

Bonus: Mari??

This brief shot of one of the unknown girls definitely looks a whole lot like Mari, but it’s important to note that this scene definitely could have used random extras (other than the obvious main cast that we already know survive) to avoid spoilers similar to what they did with the opening Pit Girl scene. Some people have also pointed out that she appears to have blonde hair. But it’s interesting and I can certainly see the resemblance!

[marikamlp]

S03E10 Promo analysis (teen timeline and pit girl feast analysis part 2)

Massive Spoilers

Given some new information that came since I made my analysis and some of the discussion in the comments, I feel the need to point out some of the things (this post is linked to my previous post on the pit girl; if you're interested, check it out)

This is what I've settled on last but I am no longer sure about where I placed Lottie and Travis so let's rewind.

The pink jacket girl

We can see that in the promo, Natalie is the one who seems to be wearing the pink jacket, standing right there behind Van. It would also make sense how she is the one who takes on the new butchering role given she is the only one other than Shauna who has butchered people and who in the adult timeline offered Shauna help

However, I have not forgotten about this

And look closely at the make-up. It looks like the make-up we can see here under the mask of the girl in pink jacket

And the woman whose mask is being pulled up seems to be wearing Hannah's purple hoodie that Nat is wearing in the bts photo. So I think it is possible we're gonna see Hannah pull a queen card and Natalie exchanging clothes to trick the other girls (which possibly leads to them later on stripping people to only light clothing so the trick couldn't be performed again?). Either way, I don't think the pink jacket girl is Lottie.

So now we're onto the character I put down as Travis

But that can't be Travis. Because that person isn't dressed anything like Travis in the promo (he's in the background next to Akilah and Misty on the right)

However, the woman who is standing back to the camera and is hooded seems to be wearing the same kind of purple sleeves.

I'm not honestly sure who that is because they're turned back to the camera but possibly it could be Hannah or Lottie. Both seem to be shown wearing an alike hood in the promo.

But also, please look at the heart sleeves under this outfit, it looks like this

So this would mean that the braided heart-sleeve girl is Hannah. And this seems to be Lottie's hood in the background as it's lighter and has claws on

So it seems to me like, neither Hannah or Lottie are the person with purple sleeves. So who is it? I'd love to guess but there's too many dark haired girls to try.

My best guess for everyone here, Gen is based on the similarity of the outfit I assigned her beforehand from the pit girl feast. So we're down to Britt, Robin and Mari. If all of the Mari truthers are lucky, purple sleeve girl will be Mari and Pit girl will be Hannah!

I know a lot of people think Hannah will be pit girl, and you know, it's possible. I think it's either her or Mari or Robin, but I will not guess which one at this point. This, however, still leaves us with a question where is Travis during the pit girl feast? Are we even seeing it in the next episode? I don't have answers. All I think is that calling an episode full circle and then letting us see a pit girl feast, which we saw in the Pilot episode, would be an amazing use of that title. However, I can't imagine how this many people would die in a single episode so we might not know just yet or they will just pull of a trick that we didn't see everyone and rest of the characters was on the other side of camera (which I hope they won't cause it's kinda lame). It might also be an unpopular opinion, but killing Hannah next episode would be a waste. We were just intrigued by her character, and she has a relationship with Melissa to explore. There is also a question of how the whole black box reveal plays into this and when does the rescue come because I don't think we have more than 2-3 months left of their time in the wilderness.

[disgracedaantt]

yellowjackets s3 ep3 theory

ok so I havent seen anyone point this out yet, but im pretty sure the girls are still starving? this ties in with the whole yellow filter theory (is there a actual name for that btw?) Because I think things aren't what they seem!!!

(spoilers for s3 ahead be warned)

so, we're shown in episode 1 that the girls have set up a functional animal farm AND we're told by Gen that there is plenty of deer to be hunted. this, along with the fact that they are willing to expend a lot of energy and time playing games like capture the bone and have a fairly extravagant feast implies that the girls (and travis) are all doing well in terms of food. however, in both episodes 1 and 3 we are shown evidence that directly contrasts this idea!!!

first example happens with Coach Ben in episode 1 when he comes across the food stash. we know that out of everyone he has probably been showing the most thruthful version of the wilderness (see the Jackie feast scene). so, right before he finds the pit we're shown an empty rabbit(?) trap that he resets. this on its own doesn't necessarily mean anything other than he got unlucky, but we've also been repeatedly shown since season 1 (when he taught the girls how to hunt and field dress animals) that he's got a good grasp on outdoor survival even with his missing leg. i dont think we see him catch or find any food during that whole sequence until he finds the food stash, which is a bit odd considering that according to the girls there is plenty of food to be found, which ties into my second point: Akilah's hallucination.

immediately after finding the berry bushes in her hallucination sequence she begins eating them incredibly fast and almost aggressively (like shes STARVING), when within the girls own reasoning there should be no reason for her to react so manically. we are told explicitly in episode 2 by Nat that there are plenty of berry bushes in multiple different areas (one of which being where we know Coach Ben is, so shouldn't he, an experienced outdoorsman, have been able to locate some, hm?). so we can deduce that akilahs reaction probably isnt just excitement at having fresh fruit! she was also one of the girls who were being served food at the feast, so we know that she just had access to a fair amount of food in the last day or so, so there shouldnt be any reason for to be as hungry as she seems

those are my main 2 examples of the fact that there doesnt seem to be nearly as much food as the girls are saying there is, but id also like to point out the fact that Mari ate a fucking bat? like it was likely just part of the ruse to get the bear spray from Coach Ben, but also thats one hell of a risk for her to take considering that bats are well known (even in the 90s) carriers of rabies. and while shes not the sharpest tool in the shed, she has shown that shes intelligent enough to trick both shauna and ben, so its not totally far out to assume shes smart enough to know that. and frankly i dont know if id be willing to risk getting rabies or some other disease unless im actually starving so, just pointing that out :)

id also like to point out that the feast in episode 1 looks a lot like the hallucination from when they ate Jackie! including the way the table is set up and the outfits!!! which makes me think that along with the weird yellow filter that all of that is just an idealized version of reality that the girls are projecting

also back to the animal farm, how did they manage to catch live rabbits? as someone whos owned multiple rabbits, its basically fucking impossible to catch them when they get loose outside and dont want to be caught, which im assuming since these are WILD rabbits that they do not. also, as many have pointed out, that they also have a domesticated breed of duck? could be just an unintentional thing, but considering how in depth and full of meaning every other detail of the show is id be surprised if it wasnt intentional!

tl:dr: the yellowjackets say they have a lot of food, but never actually show them catching or finding any and act like they are starving when presented with food. (and Mari eats a fucking bat) so methinks they are not doing as good as they say they are

sry this got long and rambly and idk maybe this is all a reach and im grasping at straws but i thought id just put it out there in case someone else thought the same. im not a theorist so pls do not eviscerate me if this sounds stupid pls and thank u :)

[1-jar-of-stars]

I’m still thinking about Mari and her role as the cook. We saw how desperate Nat would get when there was no game, but watching Mari stir a pot of water and boiled belt… Did she cry when she scoured their cabin in search of anything she could find to feed her friends? And how this would’ve contributed to her willingness to offer herself up during the hunt in s3.

Between Shauna, Nat and Mari, the three yjs that had the most contact with food, it’s interesting to think of the impact this relationship must have had on them. Nat’s blind drive to find help, so much so that she wrote off “girl drama” that resulted in death (Mari vs Shauna); Shauna internalizing all her self-hate and the trauma of having to butcher her friends; and Mari who kind of walked this middle ground: she was desperate enough to offer herself up to protect the others but not so much so that she lost herself completely. She was still bubbly and bitchy to the bitter end </3

i am never not thinking about mari these days. as much as it pains me to admit it, pit girl had to be her because narratively she is the only non-confirmed survivor matching the description who would’ve made an impact. AND SHE WAS THE COOK. she was the cook!!! she scavenged around that dirty fucking cabin to find them food, to provide in the only way she could. maybe her job was lower stakes but she provided nonetheless. she did her best. her role has always been keeping them fed and it’s only right that she did it one last time.

[her-satanic-wiles]

Dawn Chorus - I

Dracopia x Fallen Angel!Reader

When you question the Almighty for a third time, you find yourself on the run and escaping a horde of wrathful angels ready to punish you for your insolence. Whose garden should you fall into than Cardinal Copia’s? And he has more nefarious plans for you.

Masterlist ⛧ Commissioned by anonymous ⛧ Series Masterlist

Words: 6.5k.

Reading Time: 26 min.

Warnings: attempted execution, blood, detailed aftermath of war, detailed deaths of children, detailed grief, detailed pain, mentions of sexual abuse within the church, mentions of rape, torture, violence

Taglist: @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56 @dopey-fandom-girl @ravensbars @copiaspet622 @onlyhereforghost @ultrahalloweengirl @ad-astra-per-aspera-1976

Author’s note: This part of the story contains the origins of the Zionist argument, claiming that the land of Palestine belongs to Jewish people by will of God. I have written this section of the chapter as close to the Christian Bible as possible in an attempt to avoid Zionist ideology or propaganda - and I want to make one thing abundantly clear: this is a pro-Palestine blog. I will always and forever stand with the people of Palestine, and do my utmost to use my platform to promote the liberation of the Palestinians under Israeli apartheid. Zionism and Zionists have no place at my table. Please continue to boycott companies, platforms and people who send aid and support to the colonial state of Israel. Thank you.

🔞 MDNI 🔞

As this fic is quite dark, I'm choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my decision. Thank you.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, from the physical exertion or the panic rising in the pit of your stomach, you couldn’t quite tell. Your mind was a contradicting war zone, unsure of which team would win. On the one hand, your brain was buzzing with adrenaline, playing back every event which lead you to this moment: running for your life away from God’s chosen soldiers, avoiding your inevitable demise like a human billionaire and his taxes. You had shown yourself alternate scenarios in which this didn’t happen, in which you’d still be safe in the Humanities Department of Heaven, distributing angels to help God’s children and guide them to the Light. Or enjoying the presence of a fellow guardian angel at the proverbial water cooler. The other side of the battle was autopilot-mode, no thoughts, no feelings, just running to save yourself.

You had a fierce belief in your Leader - almost entirely unwavering and unquestioning. You were His daughter, mirrored in His image and devoted only to Him. You did His bidding as requested, journeyed to realms under His name, played the messenger when He had something important to say to His children. You were there when Gabriel delivered God’s message to the Virgin Mary, hovering in the background and keeping Mary safe from harm in order to protect the coming of Christ. You aided in escaping Peter from prison, making him invisible to the guards as you and some others guided him to freedom by the will of the Almighty.You believed in Him so strongly, that you didn’t need to question Him - because He was always right, and His plan was always just.

You saw how the people of Egypt suffered at the hands of your Lord, and personally watched as the souls of the firstborn children who were slaughtered by Him as an act of protest against Pharaoh and his tyrannic reign. You kept your mouth shut at the livestock, knowing that food could be replenished easily enough. You thought about saying something when you saw the innocence of Egypt battling against the boils that God had given them. By His grace, you could even turn a blind eye to the adult firstborns who were killed as collateral damage. But the children? Some as young as newborns, all the way up to twelve years old. Pure babies without an ounce of hate or sins in their hearts, who didn’t understand the difference between their heathenish beliefs and their Hebrew friends. Who had never whipped a slave, or ordered the execution of God’s children. Who never had the cognitive capacity to think of such a thing, because their brains hadn’t had the chance to learn, to change, to join in God’s favour.

You’d never forget the small boy you watched over in the seconds before he took his last breath, sleeping soundly in his bed after a long day of studying and games. He couldn’t have been older than six. The oldest child to a woman whose husband had passed on mere months before. To a woman who was hanging on by a fragile thread as it was. You watched the boy’s breath rise and fall steadily in his peaceful slumber, until his chest fell for the final time. You watched his soul rise from his body, confused for a moment - painfully unaware that his mortal life had ended. You saw the fear in his eyes when he looked at his lifeless body in his bed, and felt his frustration when his mother ignored his pleas for help, not understanding that she couldn’t see his soul. You observed as Horus came for the child, wrapping His arm around him and offering some comfort to his distress. Horus looked at you as you stood in the doorway of the bedroom, His avian eyes full of the darkest of emotions as He guided yet another soul to the underworld, to have their heart weighed and judged by the guardian at the gates. His loathing poured off of Him as He shot you that look, before disappearing into the night with the child. You didn’t kill the boy, but under the gaze of Horus, you felt as though you had.

Leaving the boy’s home, the streets were full of lost and confused souls, ranging in age and wealth but all sharing the same sorrow and fear. Among the devastation stood your doubts of the Almighty’s plan, and the question of why lingered on your lips even as you were summoned back to Heaven to give a report on the situation - on its success. You felt uncomfortable as you summarised what you saw to the archangel Michael, who looked triumphant in God’s success, knowing he had carried it out perfectly for Him. He thanked you for your hard work - and in that moment, you had never felt so disgusted with yourself.

Of course, your thoughts were never your own, and you were called in to meet with your superiors about your doubts. They seemed to be reasonable, and understanding, especially given that this was your first offense. They promised to set your mind at ease, and reminded you that you were merely a foot-soldier in the Great Plan. You didn’t need to worry, you just needed to do as you were asked. Then they kicked you out of the office with a bad taste in your mouth, and a sense of foreboding of the things to come. Surely His plan couldn’t get any worse?

Then Canaan happened.

After the Israelites escaped slavery in Egypt, they wandered in the wilderness for forty years, led by their leader, Moses. During this time, God promised them a land of their own, a fertile land called Canaan, where they could settle and prosper. When Moses died, a new leader named Joshua arose to lead the Israelites into Canaan. Before entering the land, Joshua received a command from God to conquer it. God promised to be with Joshua and the Israelites, assuring them of victory if they remained faithful. Under the pretext of divine sanction, and God’s name on their lips, the Israelites engaged in systematic warfare, besieging cities, slaughtering men, women, and children, and plundering their possessions. The conquest was marked by bloodshed, devastation, and the utter annihilation of indigenous populations. Then they burned the whole city and everything in it, but they put the silver and gold and the articles of bronze and iron into the treasury of the Lord’s house. Jericho fell to ruin, crumbling in ashes on the ground as fire engulfed the buildings and eating everything it could. You watched as they celebrated over the dead, drank themselves into a stupor in the ruined homes, covered in the blood of the innocent. They didn’t bother themselves to move the corpses until the celebrations were over, days after they declared victory.

Despite the humans being unable to see you, you were still a real being wandering the streets of Canaan, sobering at the sights before you. Your beautiful, white wings dragged on the floor as you walked, gathering the dirt and the blood at the tips of your feathers. God’s children had got the land that they were promised, but what was the cost? From the freeing of the Hebrews to the conquering of Canaan, all you could see were the bodies that had been left behind of the civilians caught up in the fight. Though the blood pooled in puddles no more than 3cm deep, it felt as though you were in it up to your neck. You looked at the conquerors in disgust, and with a rage you’d never felt before - especially when you realised that, for Joshua, peace was never an option worthy of consideration. You were suffocated by the sinners that surrounded you, the murderers and looters, the fornicators who lurked in dark alleyways to celebrate with any passerby willing or otherwise. You watched as indigenous stragglers were dealt with, some more humanely than others and you wondered: was this truly God’s will all along? Did He plan for such brutality? Did He allow Joshua to go as far as he did - and did He give Joshua the strength and the power to do so? Or did He look at His children in disgust and disappointment, ashamed of them for turning to sin and Satan so easily in a moment of pure happiness? Despite claiming to worship a God of love and justice, the Israelites demonstrated cruelty and brutality in their pursuit of land and power - and your faith wavered a second time when you realised that your worst fears were true: God really did give Joshua the power to do as he did, and He felt no remorse for it.

You were pulled into your superior’s office again, this time scolded with much less understanding than before. Gabriel and Michael looked at you with disdain, nothing but anger in their eyes and on their faces as you sat before them in the celestial white room, eyes aching from the brightness.

Gabriel, with his luminous wings unfurled, regarded you with a solemn gaze. “Again, ___? Hast thou not learned from thy previous lapse in faith? Our duty as angels is to serve unquestioningly, to uphold the divine order without falter.”

Michael, his expression stern and unwavering, spoke with commanding authority. “Indeed, ___, the Almighty’s will is not for us to question. It is our sacred duty to carry out His commands with unwavering devotion.”

You bowed your head, feeling the weight of their reproach heavy upon you. “I understand, my lords. But I cannot help but struggle with the suffering and turmoil wrought by our actions. Is it not within our power to seek mercy and compassion, even amidst the fulfilment of divine justice?”

Gabriel’s gaze softened, though his tone remained firm. “Our understanding is limited, ___. We cannot comprehend the intricacies of God’s divine plan. It is not for us to question His wisdom or to challenge His authority.”

Michael nodded in agreement. “Our loyalty to the Creator must remain steadfast, even in the face of uncertainty or doubt. We are His instruments, His messengers, and His will shall be done.”

You sighed, “But His will brings the destruction of cities and the deaths of children. His own children. It is difficult for me to truly follow Him when there is so much devastation.”

Gabriel’s brow furrowed slightly at your words, his expression a mix of compassion and admonition. “___,” he said gently, “we are but conduits of His divine will. Our mortal understanding pales in comparison to the grand tapestry of His design. Though we may not comprehend the reasons behind the trials and tribulations, we must trust in His wisdom and benevolence.”

Michael’s gaze remained steely, but a hint of empathy flickered in his eyes. “Indeed, ___,” he spoke firmly, “the path of righteousness is not always easy to tread. But it is our duty to carry out His commands, no matter the cost. Our faith must endure even in the face of adversity.”

You felt a pang of uncertainty gnaw at your celestial essence, torn between the call of duty and the ache of compassion. “But what of mercy?” you questioned, your voice tinged with desperation. “What of compassion for His creations, even in their moments of waywardness?”

Gabriel’s voice held a note of solemnity as he responded, “Mercy and justice are intertwined in the divine order, ___. Though His judgments may seem harsh, they are tempered by His boundless love. We must trust that His actions serve a higher purpose, even when they are beyond our comprehension.”

Michael’s voice continued in his firmness, his tone sharp and parental. “Let this be the last time we speak of this, ___. There will be consequences to thy actions the next time thou decidest to question the Almighty.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words pressing down upon you like a leaden mantle. The gravity of his warning was unmistakable, a stark reminder of the consequences of defiance in the face of divine authority.

“Yes, my lord,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “I understand.”

As Gabriel contemplated the situation, a solemn expression settled upon his countenance. After a moment of contemplation, he spoke, his voice measured and grave. “___,” he began, his tone tinged with a sense of sorrow, “in light of thy transgression and the gravity of thy doubts, it is clear that a lesson must be learned.” He paused, as if searching for the right words to convey his thoughts. Then, with a decisive nod, he continued, “I propose thou be assigned a period of reflection and penance. During this time, thou wilt be tasked with assisting souls in need—those who have lost their way, who suffer in anguish, or who cry out for guidance.”

Gabriel’s suggestion carried the weight of solemn judgment, yet also held the promise of redemption. It was a punishment tempered with compassion, an opportunity for growth and renewal amidst the shadows of doubt.

“Thou wilt walk among mortals,” Gabriel concluded, his gaze unwavering, “bearing witness to their struggles and offering solace in the name of the Almighty. May this experience serve to strengthen thy faith and reaffirm thy devotion to His divine will.”

“Let her spend time in Canaan until her penance is served, as she holds so much sympathy for the dead sinners.” Michael suggested, a smug tone oozing from his voice. He almost lit up at the look of protest you shot him, wanting to argue but Gabriel raising a hand and stopping you from speaking.

“It is decided. Thou may only return to us here when thou no longer holdeth contempt for our Lord. Dost thou have anything thou wishest to say?”

You stood and spread your wings, stretching them out and flapping them sharply in frustration. “There are several things I should like to say.” You retorted fiercely. “I shall restrain the urge, however. The Almighty gave me a tongue to use and a brain to think, after all.”

“And thou would doest well to remember that.” Michael commented, the smirk fading from his face. “Go. Leave us, petulant child. Perform thy duties and know thy place.”

Your time in Canaan was dreary - especially given that you didn’t want to be there in the first place, surrounded by those who used His name to spread evil. But still, you guided His creations as you were told to do, their guardian spirit keeping them from harm and returning them to the Light when their own beliefs had wavered. You felt somewhat like a hypocrite, guiding the wayward souls back to their own beliefs when you, yourself, were questioning yours. And, if you were to be truthful, your faith never completely restored to how it was before Canaan was conquered. You still held even the smallest amount of contempt for the Almighty, and silently questioned everything He did, wondering if His plans would succeed in peace or be laced with blood. But eventually, Heaven forgave you and told you that you were welcome to return, and you did so as though it was the easiest choice you had ever made… because, well, it was.

But all of that lead you to your third strike.

It had been some time since you entered the Mortal Realm, choosing to spend your time in Heaven and directing other angels to their tasks. You hadn’t really paid much attention to God’s creations as a result, almost entirely out of the loop. Since your time in Canaan, according to your fellow angels, much had changed. Great churches were built and devoted to God, while wars waged in His name and His word spread to those who needed it the most. Yet, in those churches, you discovered corruption everywhere you looked. The righteous taking their power and using it to abuse others, in God’s very own home, watched by the Saints and Apostles as they committed the most disgusting of acts to the vulnerable and the needy, as though they condoned such behaviour. You saw people, of all ages, routinely touched against their will, forced into submission and shunned if they dared to say anything - blamed by God’s other children for a crime they didn’t commit, but were the victims of instead. You watched the cycle repeat, families torn apart, and all the while the situation was monitored and allowed. Perhaps, even, ordered by the Lord Himself. You couldn’t bear it - you couldn’t fathom that the Almighty who you’d followed blindly your entire life could hurt another being like that, when He often portrayed Himself to be a kind and benevolent soul, a loving father to those who loved him. You needed to know why. Why must he enact such cruelty on his own creations?

You stormed into Michael’s office, where he, Gabriel, and Raphael met, staring at you in disbelief that you’d have the audacity to do such a thing. “I wish to speak with the Lord.” You demanded, anger coursing through your veins like never before.

Raphael’s brows furrowed. “Directly?”

“Yes.”

He laughed in disbelief. “Child, not even we get a direct audience with the Almighty. Whatever could thou say to Him?”

Gabriel sighed, disappointment oozing from his celestial being. “Thy faith hath wavered yet again, hath it not?”

“Aye, I stand before thee once more, yet again with a heart heavy with doubt.”

Michael’s own anger was bubbling under the surface. “Speak, and let us hear thy grievance.”

“My lords, I cannot remain silent any longer. I have witnessed the depths of depravity within the Church, the desecration of innocence by those who claim to be servants of God.”

“Thy words are bold, ___,” Gabriel said, his tone remaining level. “What troubles thee so?”

Your anger surfaced and manifested as a raised voice and shaking limbs. “‘Tis the scourge of sexual abuse that plagues the holy sanctuaries. Innocent children, robbed of their purity by those who should protect them. How can a just and loving God allow such atrocities to persist within His own house?”

Raphael nodded, unfazed by the spectacle in front of him. “Thy anguish is understandable.” He found this more entertaining than impertinent, clearly unaware of your two strikes before. “Yet thou must remember that God’s ways are beyond our understanding.”

“How can we stand idly by while the innocent suffer? Are we not tasked with defending the weak and the vulnerable?”

Gabriel rested his forehead on his hand. “Thou dost speak with passion,” he was exasperated by you, “but thou must not forget thy place. God’s will is inscrutable, and we are but instruments of His divine plan. How many times must we remind thee?”

“I refuse to be silent any longer! I will not turn a blind eye to the suffering of the innocent, even if it means defying the will of my superiors.”

Michael slammed his fist on the white desk, standing from his seat behind it. “Thou dost tread dangerous ground. Thy defiance borders on heresy!”

You echoed his tone. “So be it! I would rather be branded a heretic than remain complicit in the face of such evil. This smells of the Devil, not of our Lord. I do not understand why He sits by and allows it to happen.”

Gabriel tried to keep the peace between all of you, but he was losing control of the situation quickly. “Thy faith hath faltered, and thy words ring with rebellion. Thou must reconsider thy stance before it is too late.”

“I cannot, in good conscience, remain silent any longer. If God truly exists, then He shall judge me for my actions. But I cannot stand by while His name is used to justify such abominations.”

“Then so be it, ___,” Michael resolved through gritted teeth. “If thou wilt not bend to the will of God, then thou must bear the consequences of thy defiance.”

“So be it.”

“Thou hast been found guilty of heresy and defiance against the will of God for the third time. As Archangel of Judgment, it falls upon me to administer thy punishment.”

“Thou may judge me, but know that my heart is true, and my intentions pure.”

“Thy intentions matter not. Thy actions have brought dishonour upon the celestial host, and thy defiance cannot go unpunished.”

Gabriel stood and walked over to his brother, placing a hand on his shoulder and speaking urgently into his ear. “Michael, perhaps we should consider a less severe punishment. Her heart may yet be turned back to the path of righteousness.”

Michael shook his head. “Nay, Gabriel. The time for leniency hath passed. Ariel’s repeated offences demand a swift and decisive response.” All the while, his wrathful gaze never left your face. “Thy fate is sealed. As Archangel of Judgment, I hereby decree that thou shalt be cast out from the celestial realm and condemned to the Abyss.”

Raphael’s eyes widened with shock, but he said nothing.

Gabriel shook his brother and with sadness, he said, “Michael, art thou certain this is the right course of action? Once the sentence is passed, there can be no turning back.”

Michael replied firmly, “It is done, Gabriel. Justice must be served, even if it breaks thy heart. Let the punishment be carried out.”

Knowing your fate was worse than death, your body reacted for you - even before your brain had decided the best course of action. You turned swiftly on your heels and made your escape, wings flapping and trying to gain enough speed to remove yourself from the Heavens. Your heart was pounding in your chest, from the physical exertion or the panic rising from the pit of your stomach, you couldn’t quite tell. Your mind was a contradicting war zone, unsure of which team would win. On the one hand, your brain was buzzing with adrenaline, playing back every event which lead you to this moment: running for your life away from God’s chosen soldiers, avoiding your inevitable demise.

The portal to the Mortal Realm was just in your grasp, so by only the adrenaline that you were running on, you forced yourself to speed up - making a mad dash for the open world in front of you. You could hear Michael’s calls to, “Close that gate! Do not let her through!”

Someone had listened and had begun closing the portal. The closer you got to it, the smaller the hole became, shrinking and shrinking until all you could see was the tiniest speck of blue peeking out. But you couldn’t let that deter you - if you were caught, your future would hold horrors beyond celestial comprehension. You made a dive, perhaps it was your madness that drove you to do it, the adrenaline, or even your desperation, but you dove nonetheless. Your whole body ripped through the closing portal, feeling the walls shut in on you and grip onto your body with a searing, hot pain you’d never experienced before. Escaping from the Heavens was never a kind task, otherwise more angels would have done it, but now you were caught in Earth’s atmosphere, the planet’s gravity pulling you down to its very core with all the force it could muster.

The warmth was the first thing you noticed, the friction caused by the air resistance generated intense heat, turning your body into a blazing inferno akin to a comet streaking across the sky. Your skin prickled and your hair stood on end as the flames licked at your body, consuming everything in their path. The feathers on the outside of your wings were flying off and burning up in the flames, turning to ash in the atmosphere and disappearing entirely. The rush of wind roared in your ears, drowning out all other sounds as you plummeted towards the ground. The air around you shimmered with heat, distorting your vision and adding to the surreal sensation of falling through space. Tears appeared in your eyes but you couldn’t tell if that was because of the pain you could feel or the wind biting against you.

Despite the intense heat and the overwhelming sense of impending doom, there was also a strange beauty to the experience. The fiery trail you left behind painted a mesmerizing picture against the night sky, a fleeting spectacle that few that resided on this planet would ever witness. The sight of the planet from so far above reminded you just how the Almighty had made it: some land, but mostly water. As you fell, you recalled the horrors of the deep, the mammals with sharp teeth and stomachs bigger than your entire body. In that moment, for the first time in a while, you prayed to Him. You begged Him over and over to guide your body to land. You were an angel, you were likely to survive the fall despite the pain you were about to endure, and your weakened state couldn’t handle a battle with a sea creature that only wanted you for lunch.

Hurtling towards the ground, the last thing you remembered thinking was, this is how hellfire must feel. And that was when the world went dark.

*

“Clearly … happened … Sister.”

As you slowly regained consciousness, you became painfully aware of the searing agony coursing through every inch of your body. With your eyes tightly shut, you focused on the sensation of pressure and discomfort, trying to piece together what had happened. Your limbs felt heavy and unresponsive, and sharp pains shot through you with every movement. It was as if your body had been battered and broken, the impact of the fall leaving you bruised and battered beyond recognition. All the bones inside were broken, the bridge of your wings included, and your head throbbed beyond belief, as though you had a thousand hammers raging war against your skull.

Despite the overwhelming pain, a sense of relief washed over you as you realized that you were still alive. The thought of having survived such a catastrophic event filled you with a mixture of gratitude and disbelief. Despite everything, He had heard your prayers and allowed you to touch ground - or perhaps this was the worst outcome… perhaps He wished for your pain as penance for your disobedience. Regardless, you would heal and be well, and then you could begin to live with the mortals and hide from Michael and his wrath. You were safe here… you were sure of it.

“… working … heard … looking … angel …”

The voice was registering with you now that you were regaining your cognitive abilities after the crash. Your brain was working over time to translate his words, though, leaving you slightly confused as this was phrasing you’d not heard before. You muttered something, your words coming out in Hebrew and silencing the man.

“What … ?” He asked, speaking some more but the rest of his words sounding fuzzy.

You tried again in Hebrew, but when that proved unyielding, you switched to Arabic.

“… know …?”

With great effort, you forced your eyes open, blinking away tears. Taking in your surroundings, you saw that you were lying amidst a pile of rubble, surrounded by the charred remnants of your fiery descent. You sat up a little, beholding the scene around you that was surreal and unsettling. The ground beneath you was scorched and blackened, a stark contrast to the surrounding, luscious, green landscape. The crater itself was a testament to the sheer force of your impact, a deep indentation in the Earth’s surface that stretched out before you in an almost perfect circle. The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke and charred debris, making it difficult to breathe. The heat radiating from the ground beneath you was intense, searing your skin and making you sweat profusely despite the chill of the night air.

Looking around, you could see the devastation wrought by your fall. Trees lay shattered and splintered, their branches twisted and blackened by the flames. Rocks and debris littered the ground, scattered in all directions by the force of the impact. On the edge of the crater, the man you heard stood, staring at you in disbelief.

He wore robes; a symphony of rich, deep crimson, a colour that seemed to capture the essence of devotion and authority. Crafted from the finest silk, the fabric cascaded in graceful folds, accentuating the dignified stature of the wearer. Each stitch, meticulously placed, whispered of skilled hands that had laboured to create a garment befitting its esteemed purpose.

The robe’s skirt, adorned with intricate gold and black embroidery, depicted sacred symbols and religious motifs that told tales of faith and tradition - resembling the cross that Yeshua died upon, but placed upside-down. The golden threads shimmered in the ambient light, casting a subtle glow that highlighted the reverence with which the garment had been crafted.

A matching red sash, elegantly tied across the man’s chubby waist hid the many buttons that ran the length of the garment. Its edges, crisply pressed and perfectly straight to show his precision and need to look as clean as possible.

The man’s sleeves, were straight, yet too long for him, as was the rest of his attire. As tidy as these lines were, as much care went into keeping it pristine, it was far too big for him like it had been handed to him from someone else that used to wear it perfectly. The cuffs ended midway down his palms, which, themselves, were hidden beneath leather, black gloves.

One hand was up to his ear, holding something to it and speaking in a tongue you couldn’t understand. Your eyes travelled over his face, his white skin dimmed by the light of the moon, but mismatched eyes shining brightly beneath black paint around his eyes. One was the colour of ice, the other was the colour of the trees. You’d never seen such a thing before in all of God’s creations. A moustache of mouse-brown sat above his top lip, which also had been painted black. As he spoke, you looked at his teeth, perfectly white but canines sharper than most mortal’s dental structures. You had heard of such a thing - rumours spreading amongst the Israelites as they told each other stories in the dark of the night - abominations so foul they ate people, consuming the blood from their bodies and ending their lives in a moment’s notice, hiding in the shadows of the night as the sun would kill them. You’d reported back to Gabriel, who’d confirmed these abominations were the work of Lucifer, an archangel who had fallen many eons ago and had renamed himself to Satan. Your eyes had fallen upon a vampyre, and as your eyes roamed over the rest of his body, you saw your halo clutched in his left hand, pressed between his fingers firmly as though you may make a grab for it at any moment.

You made an attempt to back away from the monster, but the bones in your body were still healing - taking longer now that your halo was in the hands of another and not atop your head as it ought to have been. You took in your surroundings a little more, brain power restoring to maximum as you realised he must be of the ancient Romans, the very same people who had killed Yeshua.

“I pray thee, do not harm me,” you said, your tongue switching to Latin. This got the man to stop again and look at you.

“You’ve hurt yourself enough without me getting involved, haven’t you, Angel?” he asked, responding in Latin back to you. His tone was unsettling, confident and dark. The glint in his eyes mimicked this. “… Latin.” The switch in language made you realise he wasn’t talking to you, but an invisible person in your midst.

“What tongue dost thou speak?”

“You’re a servant of the Betrayer and you don’t know my language?” he laughed, then spoke again to the invisible one. His hand moved from his ear and you saw light coming from his hand - expecting pain from Hell, you flinched. When the pain didn’t come, you heard him again. “It’s just a phone,” he explained, making a mockery of you. “I thought everyone up there knew what was going on down here.”

You sighed, “I have not visited in a while.”

“Oh really? When was the last time you were down here, then?”

“I am not compelled to divulge aught to thee, foul creature!” your voice was laced with disdain as you looked at him, fangs exposed as he grinned at you. He took a step towards the crater, and you tried to move back, howling in pain as you did so and earning another laugh from him.

“Then I’m not compelled to help you get your bearings.”

You stopped for a moment and thought - more knowledge would be useful at this stage. And keeping him talking would buy you some healing time and strengthen to get your halo then run again. “I beheld the passing of Yeshua - and that was mine ultimate moment in this earthly realm.”

The vampyre hissed at Yeshua’s name, almost as if he was in pain just hearing the name of the Holy Son. He straightened himself up and then took a seat on the edge of the crater. “That was two-thousand years ago, Angel. A lot’s changed since then.”

“What other tongue didst thou employ just now?”

“It’s called English. A mixture of Latin, Greek and German.”

A Germanic influence - you wondered why you were only picking up the Latin words at first. You were only prepared with the languages spoke around the time of Yeshua, meaning anything new that had been developed since was completely lost to your ears. Now that you knew the main languages, you commanded, “Speaketh once more in the English tongue.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He replied, but he did so in English.

“I comprehend thy words now. I give thee thanks.”

He scoffed. “That was fast.”

“‘Tis a… gift… from the Almighty.”

He looked at you in disgust.

You felt your body had healed enough for the pain to mostly subside, allowing you to fight your way to your feet. Your wings were still shattered, however, making you feel like a broken bird, vulnerable and weak in the eyes of her prey. The vampyre was preying on you, after all. “I express gratitude for the knowledge shared, yet I must make haste on my journey. I shall reclaim my halo and depart henceforth.” You held out your hand, silently praying that he’d be courteous and return your halo to you.

He looked at your hand and then at you. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” He stood from his seat and took a step towards you, watching you flinch as you stepped back. “The son of the Dark One has an angel in his grasp - what makes you think you’re going anywhere, hm?” He was moving towards you at an alarming rate, rendering your body useless against his speed. He gripped hold of your arm, tightly trapping you beneath his gloved fingers. You struggled against him, pulling back as hard as you could but failing, your body still not strong enough. “The way you fell makes me think you came here without permission, right? Which means, we have a lot to talk about.”

“Release me.”

“Or what?”

“I shall slay thee.”

He simply laughed, before turning to a person who was walking towards you, emerging from the darkness. She was a woman, visibly older than the vampyre and a little chunkier, too. She had long, blonde hair and looked more human than monster, though, you came to quickly realise she was a monster like him, and when she spoke, she did so in English. “The Unholy Father blessed us with a gift tonight,” she commented through a smile.

“What do we do with her now, Sister?” the vampyre asked, English rolling off his tongue easier than the Latin he spoke to you in.

The woman entered the crater and grabbed hold of your chin, looking at your body in one, fell swoop before making her decision. “Take her to the basements and strap her up - we have a lot of questions to ask about her home, don’t we, little angel?”

“Unhand me!” you yelled, struggling against both of their grasps.

The woman gripped onto your wrists and tied a metal chain around them - the metal burned against your skin as you fought against her, the pain getting worse and worse until you were forced to still. “Forged with hellfire,” she explained, “you’re not getting out of that easily.”

The vampyre dragged you across the grass and into a building, smelling old and of incense. You could tell that the building techniques were similar to the Babylonian buildings, but with Roman Corinthian architecture thrown in. There were also elements to this structure that you hadn’t seen before, and was only paying attention to because you needed to escape.

The vampyre pulled you down some steps, travelling further and further below ground as though he were walking you to Hell, until you finally stopped at a door. The room he threw you into was cold and dark, and it smelled almost exclusively of damp. In the centre of the room was a table, propped up on wood and resembling a crucifix. You were strapped onto it, similarly to the Messiah, except your device was made exclusively of hellfire-forged metal, making your entire body tingle with pain. You fought against him all the while, trying your best to escape, but all your efforts proved to be in vain. Once the woman entered the room, the torture truly began.

They both asked you things, questions about Heaven and the Almighty’s plan that you couldn’t answer even if you wanted to. When they were met with answers they didn’t like, they would reopen wounds that had healed and damage your body in ways that were unimaginable once upon a time. Feathers were plucked from your wings to start with, following cuts to your skin, slaps, and then short bursts of hellfire that rose from the ground. But you remained silent throughout, save for your screams of agony.

Eventually, they grew tired, and as the vampyre left, he looked at you and smirked. “We all have eternity, Angel. You’ll be here for the rest of it if you don’t cooperate.” He winked at you. “See you tomorrow.”

The door to the room closed behind them, slamming shut with an echo that reverberated throughout your entire being. Your halo sat on the other side of the room, resting on a table and taunting you. You could hear it crying out for you and your body begging for it. If you wore it, you’d heal in no time and regain all of your strength. But just being in its presence meant it would take longer. You were never without your halo and your holy light, but you’d seen what had happened to angels who were. Fearing that this was to be your fate, you wondered if it would have served you better to be caught by Michael and thrown to the void. Or perhaps you should have just continued on in blind faith of the Almighty, doing His bidding despite your heart breaking each time.

Strapped to Hell’s crucifix, all you could do was think of all the regrets you had, and beg into the darkness that He would show you mercy and allow you to come home. Or die quickly.

Prev. ⛧ Next

[yeonmuse]

ᥫ᭡ f!reader x Park Sunghoon ── 𝒢enre. Uni au. fluff, non idol enha. feats. ot7 [reqs are closed] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary ⛸️

⍣ ೋ AUTHORS NOTES . This is part of admins Enhypen University Special Event. This series also has slight connections to every series in said event so occasionally characters from the other members chapters may appear in this series as well.

˗ˏˋSUMMARY ´ˎ˗ Park Sunghoon doesn’t usually like getting close to new people, but when a little shows up to his place of work in need of skating lessons he finds himself getting oddly close to his older sister. He finds himself developing some uncontainable feelings while having to teach not only her little sister to skate, but her as well.

TAGLIST IS CLOSED ❕ 🏷️

sweater weather

As the sun began to set, the golden hue of the sky cast a soft and warm light over everything in its path. The entire ride for Sunghoon from his own place to hers had been eerily quiet and a heavy tension lingered in the air as he tried to shake off his nerves. Tonight was the night, a night he had been ripping and running for the entire day to make sure it was nothing less than perfect. As he finally arrived into the parking garage of her building he stepped from her car with an heir of anxiety, as elated as he had been to be spending this night with her he couldn’t shake the nerves tingling at his fingertips. The closer he got to her floor and then the door of her apartment the heavier her footsteps felt until eventually he stood right there in front of it, his fists moving at their own will to frantically knock at the door. The seconds passed slowly, the time it took for her to open the door having felt like centuries until it finally swung open and revealed her on the other side. The moment his eyes fell upon her every nerve of his flushed away and it was as if the wind was knocked out of his chest.

“You look-’’ before he himself could even finish processing his thoughts Jinsouls head pokes out from behind the door.

“Beautiful? Amazing? Stunning?’’ In a matter of seconds Jin Soul was pushed aside and out popped Mari.

“Are you going to let the man finish his own sentence, you’re already ruining their moment.’’

“Both of you are ruining the moment shutup.’’ Sunghoon could hear Fatou mutter from behind the door before poking out her head.

“Have fun you two and don’t fuck this up Park, I will find out where you leave.’’ She threatens before and quickly closes the door behind herself, a look of embarrassment flashes across her face followed by an apologetic one.

“Sorry, about them..’’ she apologizes, pursing her lips as she looks up at him, a silence now lingering between the two of them since the door was closed.

“You look beautiful.’’ he responds, his eyes finally drinking her now that the two of them had officially been left alone.

“You do too, i mean handsome you look handsome.’’ the girl physically cringes at the awkwardness of her compliment which only makes him chuckle. It was evident that she had been just as nervous as he had been but of course that was inevitable. After two months of friendship and hidden feelings tonight would further chance their relationship in ways that could test the both of them. Though despite how nervous each of them had been there was one undeniably obvious detail, there was a sure spark between them, a sort of magical connection that neither could quite put into words.

“We should go before anything even more embarrassing decides to slip out of me.’’

“You mean like calling me stupid, what three times?’’ at his words her face immediately scrunches up.

“Not one of my best moments.’’ Sunghoon laughs it off, holding out his hand for hers and leading her to the elevator the moment she places her hand within his.

The entire elevator ride was full of stolen glances and fingers entangling with one another — an action that brought warmth to his chest and made butterflies swarm the pit of her stomach.

The car ride itself had been awfully silent other than the soft ambience of lana del reys yes to heaven that had been playing softly through the radio, something she immediately took note in because it had been one of her favorite songs. Up until the end of the ride the two had just been enjoying the comfort of the ride, her eyes drifting to the outside scenery that had gone from the citylights to the winter trees as they had now been going beyond the city borders.

Eventually they had been so far outside eyed him suspiciously hoping that this wasn't just some ploy to murder her ( even after their two months of friendship). Her suspicions were killed immediately as they pulled into a crowded parking lot, the sound of rubble crunching beneath the tires slipping through their ambience before the car had come to a stop and the engine was cut.

“Where are we?’’ she finally takes the initiative to ask as the two of them slipped from their seatbelts.

“You’ll see.’’ is the only response she’s met with as he steps out of the car and moves around to the opposite side to help her out. She eyes him skeptically as she slips her hand into his and steps out from the car.

“You really aren’t going to tell me where we are?’’ she questions once again as the two walk hand in hand down a path of grabble. Sunghoon hadn’t said a word, just looked straight ahead with a slight smile on his lips, earning a confused glance from her. Eventually taking the hint she stares straight ahead, her eyes catching sight of faint lights scattered about in the distance. From the distance they stood at it almost looked like fireflies fluttering about, but as they drew a little closer she realized what it was ; not fireflies but lanterns. Her head immediately turns in his direction.

“Lantern festival, i don't want to just take you to some fancy dinner or arcade, it’s been done a thousand times.’’ as he spoke all she could do was stand there staring at him in awe, this was something she had seen only a handful of times, each of those times having been on movies or random videos on the internet.

“Where did you..? How did you find out about this?’’

“There were fliers at the club, when I saw them I knew I had to take you, I just needed you to say yes.’’ he responds as he leads her to the booth at the entrance of the festival. Without the slightest bit of hesitation he pulls his wallet from his pocket and purchases an all access pass for the two of them, with the pass came the inclusion of everything the festival had to offer except food which needed to be paid for separately.

“We still have some time to eat before they start with the lanterns.’’ sung hoon comments while stuffing his wallet into his pocket before finally staring back at the girl who’s eyes had been on him the entire time.“what?’’

“Nothing, just tonight is perfect, it hasn’t started yet but it's already so perfect, you put so much thought into this i’m just im in awe..’’

“I finally get you to myself, no disruptions, no distractions. I wasn’t wasting this chance.’’ he responds, slipping her hand back into his.

Their evening had started off beautifully, tending each of the different food venders and market booths where Sunghoon had been insistent on paying for anything the girl set her eyes on – despite her arguing with him against it. She was simply happy to be there and offer everything that the festival had to offer her; the music, the food, the dancers and light shows. The entire event had been so rich with culture and celebratory energy that it made her feel synergetic. While she spent her night taking in the wonders of her surroundings all he could do was focus on her, the way her face lit up or her eyes glimmered at the sight of their surroundings make his heart flutter in his chest. Tonight he was seeing sides of her that were now vulnerable to him in ways they weren't before.As the cold invaded their perfect night and it began winding down it drew closer to the lantern ceremony, and he leads her away from the main festivities so that the two of them could finally send off their lanterns.

“So this one..traditionally you write your wishes or hopes for the year, anything important to you, anything you look forward to whether it be now or later on in your life then you send them off down the lake.” he explains to her as the two of them stood side by side watching all of the others around them; happy families, couples, singles all gathered around for the sole purpose of sharing their hopes, and wishes.

“What about what you’re thankful for? Can you also write that?’’

“Anything you want, anything important to you.’’ They shared a momentary glance before the sound of water gushing nearby interrupts, her eyes caught sight of an older couple each placing their own lantern into the lake and watching them drift off.

A faint smile curls onto her lips as she watches them in adoration, then her attention falls on him who seemed lost in his thoughts as he wrote on his own lanter. Finally having some sort of thought of what she herself wanted to say she writes it all onto her lantern before the two of them each seent their lanterns down the lake together, watching as they all scattered and floated along; some in groups and some in pairs, all heading in the same direction. Where to? Noone knew.

“Come on.’’

“Wait I thought we had one more lantern?’’ her face screws up and her brows knit together in confusion as she stares at the other lantern in his hand.

“We do.’’ he responds taking her hand into his and leading her away from the crowd

“Wait then where are we going?’’

“To the bridge to watch the launch.’’ he answers shortly once again, pulling her way and leaving her no time to question it.

As the two of them walked alongside the lake Sunghoon found himself admiring the way the moon's reflection glistened her eyes. Her focus on the lake beside the, watching as all of the water lanterns drifted off in the distance. The sound of music grew faint in the distance as they finally arrived at the bridge on the west end of the pond, and the lights of each lantern reflect in her eyes as she watched — still in awe at the beauty of the event. He himself found himself becoming very observant of her in t hat moment. That entire night he’d taken in the little details like how her nose wrinkled up when she laughed, how she’d continually huff and sigh wanted she was annoyed about something or the way her eyes sparkled when she looked at him. She had this way of making him completely melt under her gaze, when she’d tease him or look at him it brought out his vulnerability. He often found himself getting flustered at how easily and often she was able to get his guards down.

“Are we going to light the lantern?’’ her soft voice lulled him back from his momentary adoration, reminding him of the sole purpose he’d even taken her to there.

‘Oh shit right.’’ a soft giggle spills from her lips as she watches him scramble to set up the lantern.

“Wanna do the honors?’’ he asks, at which she shakes her head in response, watching as his gaze shot down to his phone the moment the time struck midnight.

“Any wishes for this one?’’ she asks, watching as he lit the bottom of the lantern before lifting it up to send it off.

“I already have what i wished for.’’ a blush crept to her face upon hearing his response and she watches as he finally releases it, sending it off to join the others.

As the two watched all of the lanterns join one another amongst the clouds the crisp moon air caused him to shiver as he redirected his attention towards the pond. Having underestimated how freezing tonight’s weather would actually be he’d settled for wearing only a thin black button up that the wind passed through effortlessly, kissing the skin beneath his shirt.

“Cold?” Feeling him shiver at her side she turns to face him, her eyes attentively locking on him in a way that makes his heart melt in his chest.

“Mm I’m alright, it’s just windy. I’m used to it working at the rink and all.”

“Are you? Is that why you’re standing here shivering?” She chuckles at his obvious lie, taking his hand into her own. She slips his hands into the holes of her sweater and locks their fingers together.

He was taken back at first but a smile curls onto his lips moment after, a breathy laugh spills from his lips as he looks down at the pond before pulling her closer. His gaze shifted to meet her s that had already been on him.

“Isn’t this my role? Usually the guy is supposed to give up his jacket right?”

“Mm well my guy isn’t exactly wearing his jacket is he?” She hadn’t realized that she even let the words slip past her lips ‘my guy’ Sunghoon liked the sound of it from her.

Taking a step closer, he closes the space between the two, slipping one of his hands from the sleeve of her sweater before brushing the loose strands of hair from her face. For a moment his eyes searched hers for reassurance, for confirmation that this was okay with her. When he caught the way her eyes momentarily fluttered to his lips before locking with his eyes it was all the confirmation he’d needed to know it was okay to make his move. A kiss shared under the light of the moon and the stars, accompanied by the faint glimmer of the lanterns in the sky, it was like a scene from a movie.

When their lips finally parted a shiver ran up her spine, not for the cold, but from the sparks flying between the two of them, an obvious indication that there had been something there.

CHAPTER-LIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

synopsis — Park Sunghoon doesn’t usually like getting close to new people, but when a little girl shows up to his place of work in need of skating lessons he finds himself getting oddly close to her older sister. Now he’s starting to realize himself developing some uncontainable feelings while having to teach not only her little sister to skate, but her as well.

🏷️ @getoxo @planetmarlowe @dreeki @butterflywonz @sol3chu @squiishymeow @jwonistic @nithxhoon @lakoya @iichuuo @letmein2urheart @mitmit01 @enhaz1 @hollxe1 @brianashiftz @starbyeol1512 @tinyteezer @jkslvsnella @manobillie @vvenusoncasual @i03jae @blackhairandbangs @sunooqvrlsx @addictedtohobi @gaytron3000 @firstclassjaylee @riribelle @ivyvioletcarson @academiq @claumbeju @bubblytaetae @pkjay @httpenhoon @starniras @semi-wife @nightowlpudding @heartheejake @papichulomacy @celestnlav @50-husbands @kukkurookkoo @neptunediaries @nujeskz @gweoriz @pookalicious-hq @kirakun @kimbottom6969 @i-peachesandstrawberries @rishki @wonzzziezzzz

[scatorcciosrhee]

EPISODE 6 THOUGHTS!

first of all, melissa and gen you guys are so insufferable i hope natalie gets her lick back. THE SHOVE??? OOOO DONT PISS ME OFF. however it is very relieving that nat getting beat like we all thought didn’t actually happen (and am hoping it stays that way.please.)

mari, someone who has always been a follower of power, choosing to sit with nat when she gains nothing from it is so important to me. she is silently and subtly saying “i know why you did it and i wouldn’t have been strong enough to do it. i see you and i hear you and i respect you.” mari ibarra thank you for that.

LOTTIE KEEPING AN EYE ON NAT THIS WHOLE SEASON AND IMMEDIATELY INTERVENING AND PUTTING SHAUNA IN POWER TO STOP HER FROM DOING SOMETHING DRASTIC TO PROTECT NAT??? THE LOTTIENAT COCAINE IS SO GOOD.

the screams. oh my god the screams were brilliant. to me, it was kind of a full circle moment of those screams being them all along. they were hearing themselves at the moment they finally reached no return. now i could be completely wrong and this could have some deeper meaning involving the birds or whatever, but right now that’s how i took it. either way, fucking BRILLIANT.

my babygirl. my natalie. oh they do not deserve you. what these people have put her through???? van saying she can’t make a choice like that??? last time i checked, you all deemed her your leader. she was the only one strong enough to do the right thing. that was her fucking dad. she sat with his body in shock for HOURS. she could barely walk. the lost look in her eye. the stammering. OH I JUST WANT TO HUG HER. and don’t get me started on how fucking cruel shauna was for making her butcher ben. argue that they made shauna take on the butcher role all you want but natalie never once forced her to do that shit, or anything for that matter. shauna has it out so bad for her over fucking power and it’s disgusting. i hope this is the last of her fucking tormenting her now that she’s finally got her little leader role. anyways…

BEN TRULY WAS THE BRIDGE TO CIVILIZATION. the irony of if he had just survived one more day they would’ve been rescued, but the birders never would have found them if he didn’t die because they wouldn’t have been ritualistically screaming around the fire. so fucking good.

Speaking of ritualistically screaming around the fire, finally seeing them truly unhinged to the point of no return, eating ben for the fuck of it, completely immersed in this lifestyle was SO SATISFYING. i’m so excited to see what’s to come for them, they’re so crazy i need them so bad.

Shauna immediately propositioning killing the birders in the ep 7 promo like i’m laughing she truly does not want to get rescued she’s like guys it’s my first day in charge please 😭😭😭

what do we think lottie saw before the birders arrived? and akilahs vision?? and could pit girl be the female birder?? this food is so good. (update: adding to this. I saw someone point out that travis and akilah also saw what lottie did which completely slipped my mind, so travis’ drawing could also be connected to that! so interesting.)

okay thats all i’ll say for now im rambling. nat screencaps will be up asap as always! <3

[n0eyed-taissa]

yellowjackets season 3 trailer takeaways/theories/observations/questions:

time jump: season 2 was firmly set in the winter and it looks like the bulk of 3 will be set in the spring (with some flashes to the Deep Winter)

how much time has passed & how did they manage to comfortably survive post-fire?

i think this time jump & whatever happened during the in-between time will explain how and why the girls seem much more deranged than they did.

they gave in to desperation and its circumstances, so nothing is really 'taboo' anymore. gimme scary evil cannibal lesbians pls

even shauna's narration references the fact that the girls "went completely nuts" out there

allusions to The Hunt: while i know most folks think mari has always been Pit Girl, i think her running in the trailer is a red herring.

this WILL, however, be what sets up the hunt and its rules/functions/the course

(because to ME, it has always looked like a cleared/intentionally set path, with s1ep1 showing their hand-made adornments hanging from the surrounding trees )

mari is 100% wearing the dress/nightgown that s1ep1 Pit Girl is.

tiktok fans have been theorizing that perhaps based on the rules of the hunt, mari will survive whatever the hell is about to happen to her while still later meeting Pit Girl's fate in the winter, but who's to say

"cant believe we didnt eat that bitch first" - says the one with the big brown eyes like a baby mf cow. she just wants to snack on her friends!

(y'all saw that part where shauna is biting and restraining mari, right?)

power struggle: it looks like there are going to be factions splitting up, or the girls will continue to show alliance to a particular 'leader'

van, misty, mari, akilah, and either New Gen or robin? potentially in support of lottie's leadership and connection to the wilderness?

them vs Everyone Else, who seems more focused on practical survival

coach ben seeing the snare trap and probably wondering if it was for a person or for an animal

(i didnt know what a snare was so i truly needed to google 'animal trap that looks like a n**se but isnt. sue me!)

shauna locking herself in a freezer because it was the only way she could talk to jackie. putting yourself into dangerous situations in hopes of manifesting the ghost of your lover? okay bella swan in new moon!

jackieshauna being connected by coldness, both emotionally and physically.

from the meat shed to the freezer, jackie taylor's ghost will never escape the ethel cain parallels!

theres probably someone out there in the world who wants to smash the man with no eyes, huh.........dont answer that actually.

taissa's grown out hair makes little tiny magical hearts float all around my head. wow. just wow.

are the yellowjackets going on a field trip in the wilderness together? where tf is natalie and did she find coach ben's hidey hole?

the envelope being addressed to shauna shipman and not shauna sadecki makes me think its from a person with ties to the wilderness, pushing the secret 8th survivor theory (perhaps hilary swank as adult Melissa CoolHat)

i WANT this ritual scene to be another dream-like allegory for them enjoying their descent.

if the snackie feast was the roman bacchanal, the political split between the girls and the power imablance could be going into a julius cesar-y territory? especially with the mistyshauna stabbing?

misty exploring someplace that looks like the one from lottie's visions? someone is on trial? natlie isnt in charge anymore?! walter has a mustache now?!!!!

van's new fixation on the fire, alluding to the idea that she could have been the one to burn down the cabin??? to quote you, girl, "REALLY? fire?!"

shauna with her knife to melissa's throat....is something gay happening there?

this creepy little song is really giving me the vibe that everything will NOT be okay!!!

in summation: women can be a little evil, as a treat!