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therealvalkyrie · 4 years ago

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Red Cloak, Silver Dagger

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, canonverse, established relationship, set just prior to the Battle for Trost arc.

Summary: When you’re caught nearly weaponless in the woods, can you talk your way out of a mugging?

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: canon typical violence, gun violence, blood, death, knife violence, profanity, angst with a tidbit of fluff at the end

AN: This morning I woke up and chose ~angst~ so that’s what y’all are getting:) I will be the first to admit that I wrote this while soaking in the bath in the notes app of my phone well into the evening. The only editing it’s seen is when I transcribed it to a google doc and then one more pass at 1am. So, there may be errors ahead. Either way, I hope you enjoy, and as always my dms/inbox are open if you have questions/suggestions/fun facts about baluga whales! i’m off to sleeb:) ~valkyrie

The man in front of you is clearly scared shitless: hand trembling, face blotchy with red, mouth set in a grimace meant to be intimidating. It would almost be comical, a caricature of terror, were it not for the shotgun.

He heaves two shallow, shoulder-raising breaths before speaking again.

“I said get down on the ground!”

Just like the first time he said it, you do no such thing. Your hands remain held up in surrender, placating and gentle, and you remain where you are, but your calm eyes never leave his.

“Sir, I’m certain we can work this out without needing to dirty ourselves, don’t you agree?” Your voice is even, if a little breathy, and you do your best to sound agreeable. “Is there something I may help you with?”

Your breath clouds out from your mouth as you speak. It’s the dead of winter (colder than a witch’s left tit, as your grandma would say) and you can feel the frigid air begin to creep its way in between the folds of your scarf and cloak. The snow has melted through the hole in your right boot in a similar fashion, soaking the wool sock and numbing your pinky toe.

You’re not scared of this man, you decide, for all his gun-wielding and yelling. He looks like a farmer type, complete with fur lined coat and sturdy boots. Probably just down on his luck, pushed to robbing people in the woods to make ends meet. You’re not scared of him, you decide, even as the cold air catches in your constricting throat and your heart thuds against your ribs.

He’s probably only targeted you because you look so benign today. It is your day off, after all, and you’re wearing civilian clothing, red wool traveling cloak draped over you. Even your hair is down today rather than in a practical bun. Admittedly, you look downright innocent.

And to a certain extent, you are. Without your ODM gear and swords, your training means nothing. The only weapon you have is a dagger tucked into your boot, but even that is useless if you can’t reach for it without getting shot. You’ll have to talk your way out.

The man snorts, a measure of contempt twisting his expression. “The only way you can help me, girly, is by getting on the ground and handing over your money purse.”

You smile sympathetically. “Oh, then I’m afraid I actually can’t help you, sir. I don’t have any money, and I find myself rather averse to laying in a foot of snow.”

“Ha, what a load of shit. You townies always have valuables on you.” His contemptuous sneer solidifies, and he looks at you down the barrel of the shotgun with slightly more confidence.

“Ah, well I’m not a townie, you see.” You hope this is the right tack to take, implying living at the military base through the other side of the woods. It’s a much more serious crime to murder a Survey Corps soldier than a girl who took the wrong path through the woods home. You just hope he possesses the critical thinking skills to come to that same conclusion.

You can see the gears turning for a moment before a gruff, “What do you mean you don’t live in town? You’re not a farmer’s daughter, I’d’ve recognized you.”

The short laugh bubbles out of your lungs before you can tamp it down. “No, I’m not a farmer’s daughter.” Wish I was, right now. “I’m a soldier on the base.”

At this, he pales and starts shaking again. He readjusts his stance in the snow, tip of the shotgun wavering, as the panic starts to set in again.

“Shit,” he says, almost to himself, and shifts again.

“Shit,” you agree. “But I promise you, I won’t tell if you don’t. If you let me go home right now.”

He considers for a moment, gears seemingly hand-cranked at the rate they’re going, then decides you’re a liar.

“Liar,” he says. “Who’s to say you won’t report this directly to your superiors? Who’s to say you’re tellin’ the truth?”

Sweat begins to gather beneath your scarf despite the cold, beads of it slipping down the back of your neck. This is not going as intended.

“I promise you, I have no quarrel with you. Just let me go.” Your voice thins out, nearly pleading, with the last phrase. I’m not gonna die today, in some shitty forest in the shitty snow. I don’t wanna die today.

What would Levi say about losing your cool like this?

He doesn’t seem to hear you, though, as his lips are moving, eyes narrowed and locked on yours. Occasional phrases register: “...can’t be caught…”; “...stupid girl...?”; “...fuckin’ Marcy askin’ me…”.

You lick your chapped lips and try again.

“Please,” your voice cracks on the dry air this time. “Just let me go. I don’t have anything of value, I won’t tell my superiors, please.” It ends on an unexpected sob and you know that you’ve lost any aura of cool detachment you may have had.

Suddenly you’re talking over each other, voices panicked and raised. Yours threaded with fear, his with near mania.

“Stupid girl, you’ll just report-”

“I promise I won’t, I-”

“-can’t afford a charge-”

“-just want to go home-”

“-Marcy would have my head-”

“Please, won’t you just listen-”

“-CAN’T TRUST A GODDAMNED BITCH-”

“I’M NOT A THREAT TO YOU-”

“WON’T YOU SHUT UP!”

The shot rings off the trees and through your ears, a crack of gunpowder that sends crows flying from a nearby beech tree.

In the next split second, you feel the punching pressure in your abdomen and you double over, clutching hands to your stomach. You try to maintain footing, but the snow has other plans, catching under your heels until you land flat on your back.

Your stomach feels like it’s on fire, searing with white-hot pain. It feels like a brand has been shoved into your intestines and left there to burn away your body.

Not a brand, a bullet, you realize when you stretch blood-drenched fingers up towards the sky. You can’t feel them, but you know they’re yours because the gloves had been a gift from Levi last year. Soft hide leather, lined with fur. At least two months’ salary, now stained with crimson.

A high-pitched keening escapes your mouth, though you don’t know how, because it feels like all the air left your body when you fell. Your chest is tight, breathing ragged, but the sharp air brings clarity with it.

Hands suddenly scramble, gathering as much fabric as possible to press to the wound. A cry punches out of you at the renewed pain the pressure brings, but you grit your teeth through it and push up to sitting. Adrenaline is the only thing keeping you alive at this point, driving you to reach with one hand to grab your dagger from your boot.

You look up, now, towards the farmer. He’s trudging through the snow towards you now, expression half horrified, half determined, still gripping his gun. He seems determined to see your death through to the end, so you make a split-second decision.

It’s only a quick shift of your grip on the dagger, a calculated moment of aim, and a practiced wrist-flicking throw before he stops dead in his tracks. The blade is lodged in his neck, blood spurting from his carotid artery in bursts along with his pulse. One beat, another, and he’s fallen to his knees, gun slipping from his grasp. Finally, decisively, permanently, his body thuds face down in the snow.

“Perfect,” you whisper, and smile serenely, before following suit.

Levi and the rest of his squad watch in horror as your body slumps to the ground. It’s quite the picture: blood staining pristine snow around two bodies in the middle of scenic woods, your red cloak spread around you in perfect drama.

They had only caught the tail end of the altercation, riding around the corner just in time to see your impeccable dagger throw. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Levi is damn impressed with the skill of it.

A horrified sound escapes his lungs, and then he’s urging his horse forward towards you. You look deathly ashen against your cloak, one hand tangled loosely in it on your stomach, the other dropped unceremoniously at your side.

Levi slides smoothly from the saddle in favor of running the last few steps to your side before crashing down on his knees to hover over you. Eld and Petra are directly on his heels, the latter shouting something back to the other two. Her voice sounds tinny and distant to his ears as he puts pressure on your abdomen.

Please don’t be dead, don’t be dead, don’t be dead, is caught on a loop in his mind. He leans his ear over your face and catches the faintest touch of hot breath. Not dead yet, not dead yet, not dead yet.

Eld is on your other side, still as a statue with two fingers pressed to your neck.

“There’s a pulse,” he announces, and Petra, who’s anxiously leaned over the trio on the ground, takes a shuddering breath of relief.

“Gunther’s gone back to tell the surgeon to get ready,” she tells Levi. “We need to get her back.”

Levi nods numbly, then swings his own cloak off of his shoulders to help stem the blood.

“Eld,” he directs in a deceivingly steady voice. “You help me get her on my horse.”

The blond nods, maneuvering to scoop you up in his arms.

“One, two, three.” He lifts you with a grunt, still on his knees, then stands while allowing Levi to keep continuous pressure on the wound.

You groan and shift weakly in Eld’s arms, prompting Levi to lean down and murmur directly in your ear.

“I know, my love, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s only for now. Stay with me, darling, it’ll be over soon,” he practically coos as your lashes flutter and face twists in pain.

Oluo brings forward Levi’s horse and the three men manage to wrangle you up into the saddle. Levi settles behind you, one hand gripping the reins and the other firmly around your middle.

With a whinny, his horse wheels around and he’s riding as fast as he dares back to base.

Not dead yet, not yet, not yet.

The first night after surgery, Levi stations himself in a chair by your infirmary bed. He practically growls at the first nurse who suggests that visiting hours are over, who scuttles away in alarm but nevertheless leaves him in peace. He passes the time by staring at the candle diminishing on your bedside table and mentally berating himself for letting you go to town alone.

Ha, as if she wouldn’t’ve gone anyway.

You look so fragile in the candlelight that Levi is afraid you’ll start melting away like mist if he tries to touch you. Despite this, he finds himself periodically reaching for your wrist, the steady pulse underneath his fingertips assuring him that you’re real.

The first day after surgery, the whole squad comes to visit, bringing tea and pulling up chairs around your bed to keep vigil with their captain. Hardly a word is said between them, but Petra sniffles occasionally and Gunther leans elbows on his knees and stares resolutely at your right hand.

Oluo tries once, “Did you see that knife throw? Fuckin’ impressive.”

They all murmur in assent as Levi feels the side of his mouth quirk up in a sort of melancholy pride.

Fuckin’ impressive indeed.

The second night after your surgery, Levi can feel himself beginning to split at the seams. When the nurse finally blows out all the lamps and leaves him with a sympathetic look over her shoulder, he dares to crawl into bed with you, lying on his side a careful few inches away.

At first he just stares. At the way your lips are parted in sleep, at the curve of your nose, at the delicate way your lashes lie on your cheeks.

After a while, he gently laces his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his lips, leaving soft kisses on the back. His eyes blink shut and he whispers your name against your skin.

“Come back to me. Please. Please, I- I can’t handle losing you, too.”

He falls asleep like this, breath eventually easing to match your own.

It’s in gray dawn light that you finally open your eyes, swallowing thickly against a dry throat. Slowly, you take stock of the sensations in your body. Crisp sheets against your skin, a dull blinding ache in your abdomen, a familiar warm body against your side.

Levi is stretched out beside you, clutching your left hand even in sleep. He’s always beautiful this way, features softer than he ever let them be in waking. You reach to brush his bangs out of his eyes and whisper his name like a secret into the morning.

“Levi.” The second whisper is accompanied by a finger stroking down his delicate nose. He twitches, sneezes once, then opens his eyes to meet your own.

He says your name all lovely with morning grumble, then all of a sudden he’s sitting up, worrying hands everywhere at once.

“Are you okay? Do you need water? Where does it hurt? I’ll get the doctor-”

“Levi,” you rasp, pulling him back in to focus on your face. “Water, please?”

He nods and reaches for a glass on the bedside table. You try to take it from him, but he swats your hand away before carefully tipping the glass against your lips. He only allows a few sips at a time, but lets you drink until it’s all gone and your thirst is sated.

He starts to pull away, saying, “I should go get the doctor, now,” but you gently tug him back before he can escape.

“Stay,” you murmur. “Please?”

And so he stays, curled into your side, arm delicately around your middle, as the sun breaks brightly through the windows.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #attack on titan fanfic #shingeki no kyoujin fanfic #petra ral #eld gin #gunther schultz #oluo bozado #canon typical violence #gun violence #knife violence #injury #blood #angst #fluff #angst to fluff #profanity #red cloak silver dagger #valkyrie writes

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morris-magus-merry-miller · 5 years ago

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Chapter 2: Goddess in the Glade

Our band of valiant adventurers set out that very same day on the road to Port Town. As we traveled, Candy and I compared notes, for it happened we had something in common—a love of the culinary arts. She traveled the land with a rickshaw, set up with implements for cooking, baking, and keeping her finished products heated or cooled. It’s quite the astounding set up, one I would love to copy if not for my small legs. I don’t think Nathaniel would appreciate being asked to lug around such a thing either. So alas it must remain but a dream, however while we venture together she has agreed to let me bake our group treats in the mornings while the others prepare their various morning spell rituals and such and such.

I was originally going to go with a classic—croissants—but then Candy and I discovered that Vigo had never had any sweets before. In his life! Ever! Can you imagine? I certainly cannot, even with my vast and boundless imagination, it boggles the mind! So Candy and I were in agreement that our first order of business had to be introducing Vigo to the many wondrous treats this world had to offer.

I consider myself to have quite the knack for cookies and cakes, while Candy makes quite an astounding pie. Between the two of us, I am certain we will round out Vigo’s experience with the many flavors of baked goods available.

On our second day of travel, John and I stopped for some…necessary relief, let’s say. The two of us made for an area deeper in the woods, to be certain we were out of sight of the road to avoid any embarrassing mishaps.

There we met the most fascinating and beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes upon in my many years of life. The two of us came upon a small woodland glade, a beautiful peaceful place where the sun filtered down through the trees upon a small stream. Before the river, the being was kneeled, drinking. As we accidentally stumbled upon her, she turned to face us.

She was humanoid, in a manner. Her upper body was much like a human woman, although quite a bit taller than most humans—taller, I think, than even Issac. She towered above myself and John. She had long black hair that flowed down her back, framed by two mis-matched horns—one that appeared to be a stag’s, and the other a rhino’s, but upon the side of her forehead like the stag horn. Upon her back were four wings, as mis-matched as her horns. A wasp’s, a butterfly’s, a whippoorwill’s, and a dove’s. Between them all sat a deadly looking scorpion’s tail. Her legs were not humanoid, but were more like that of a satyr. One was a goat’s, and the other a zebra’s.

The strange beauty greeted us, and introduced herself as Elpida. When she extended a hand to shake, it was a lioness’ paw, and her other hand was a hound’s. She was pleased that we were willing to stay and talk, rather than fleeing at her unique visage. For his part, John seemed about ten seconds away from asking her on a date. I was just content that she was willing to let me write this meeting, and even created an illusionary visage of herself standing in place so that I might sketch her—as you will see below.

Elpida was without a doubt the most fascinating creature I have ever laid eyes upon. She told us that each piece of her mis-matched visage was a gift from one of the major gods. The wings, from Calistria, Desna, Pharasma, and Sarenrae. A set of spider arms she could summon on command were from Norgerber. Her eyes, when she leaned forward enough for me to clearly see her features, had irises red and segmented like a fly’s, which were from Urgathoa. Her form was stuck as it was due to Zon’Kuthon, whose gift made it impossible for her to use any polymorph type magics that could change or disguise her striking figure into something less noticeable.

When I asked if she was some kind of goddess herself, she answered no—she was closer to a psychopomp. A rare and unique psychopomp who was not hidden from mortals as such beings normally are, and who had been granted miraculous powers from the various major deities of our world.

I think I can rightly say John and I stumbled upon the rarest of stories today. While we may never see her again, this meeting will be etched into my mind for the rest of my days. And I have written every detail with as much accuracy as I could muster while being quite stunned by this being’s very existence.

Author’s note: suck it, I got a description of a rare and powerful almost never before seen being and a first hand conversation with her, if that isn’t a grand part of a ‘most interesting story ever told’ I don’t know what is!

Note to self: Remove author’s note from final draft and do not taunt the devils you are trying to impress, you idiot.

Elpida asked what brought us to these travels, and withdrew a tad when we mentioned Dualwood. It turned out she was familiar with the dragonfly man, whose name she revealed was Ulong, and she was aware of what he had done to the town. He had come to her first, once upon a time, asking if it was possible to do. She kept making excuses for him, that he has his reasons for why he’s doing what he did, but also said she found it understandable that we were angry if those John cared about where in that town.

She left us in a hurry, with well wishes and a magical gift—a blessing of her own design that would allow us to ‘strike true’ in a time of dire need. Then as quickly as we’d come face-to-face with the mystical, she was gone, vanished with some teleportation magic or another.

We met with the others back on the road and told them of what had happened. They’d felt the effects of the blessing as well, so it seemed Elpida had extended it to them as well. None of the adventurers amongst us had seen or heard of such a being before, but we were glad to have stayed on her good side.

Thus we set off on the road once more in high spirits. The next day we were to arrive at Port Town fairly early. However just in time for a quick snack, we came upon a newly opened WcGronalds. We debated whether or not to go in, but upon discovering that Vigo had never had ice cream before Candy and I insisted that we go. After all, we lacked the means to make ice cream ourselves. We may well have missed our only opportunity to introduce Vigo to it, and that would have been a grave and unforgivable tragedy.

It was strangely dark within. When Vigo pushed open the door, four clown ghouls spotted us and rushed for the door, their disturbingly large shoes honking with each step. Vigo—wondrous wizard that he is—didn’t even flinch at the sight. He let loose an inferno that encompassed all of the undead horrors, reducing them to ash without so much as blinking. The mighty goblin stood victorious, and was rewarded for his efforts by the WcGronald’s employees, who had hidden themselves safely within the freezer. Vigo was given all the ice cream he could eat, and they let Candy take the entire ice cream machine so that we might make frozen treats on our travels. An excellent boon for a job well done, if I might say so myself!

It wasn’t long afterwards that we reached the illustrious and bustling city of Port Town. Here we parted ways with dear Amelia, who said we could always reach her with the Stones of Farspeech if needed.

Vigo, despite his glorious display against both the zombies and the gibbering mouther previously, seemed rather offput by the crowded city streets. He stuck close to us, positively buried in Gordon’s wooly fur.

Note to self: maybe edit that out if this ever gets published. If Vigo reads it you’re a dead man. You’ve seen his magic. He’ll kill you with fire. And lightning. Fire-lightning.

Note to self 2: Can Vigo read?

We went looking for an inn to rent some rooms to use as our base of operations as we looked for Ringwald. While we were at it, John parted ways for a time. He said he already had a place and needed to check in. We agreed to let him know which inn we ended up holing up in over the very incredibly useful Stones of Farspeech.

Not long afterwards Vigo pointed us in the direction of a lovely inn he spotted.

Note to self again: Obviously Vigo can read, he transcribes scrolls all the time, and he must have read the inn’s sign. That was a very rude assumption on my part, although it is true that many goblin tribes believe that writing can steal your soul so it isn’t a completely uncalled for assumption…

We approached the innkeeper, a lovely woman named Paige Sterling, right as she was kicking out a hooligan who apparently used to have a permanent room, but who had abused his privileges one time too many. Paige offered us his room at a discounted rate to teach the foolish rabble-rouser a lesson. Candy tossed her a platinum rather than a gold, and in exchange the delightful young woman offered to give us all rooms instead of being cramped up in the single room she’d originally offered. Her only catch was that Peanut and Gordon needed to be stabled, as there wasn’t room for a bear and a ram in the inn, but she offered a ticket which she told Vigo and Issac to show the stablehand, which would get them a free stay on the house.

With rooms secured we asked Paige if she’d seen anyone new in town who matched Ringwald’s description. She hadn’t, but she pointed us in the direction of one Captain of the Guard Terrance Gladshire, who may have heard something she had not. I took the initiative and informed Vigo, Issac, and John that we would be departing the inn to speak with the captain, and to meet us there. Yet somehow Candy and I reached the guard’s station at the same time as Vigo and Issac. John did not arrive until later, when we were already speaking with Sir Terrance Gladshire.

Terrance was a young man, whom the guards below him didn’t seem to give quite the respect he deserved. From the word around town, crime was virtually non-existent with Terrance leading, yet those under him treat him much like a child they get a kick out of teasing. It would seem one of his parents was in the position before him, and the older guards knew him when he was younger, so the view of him as the captain’s ankle biter hadn’t quite faded from memory as of yet.

Regardless, we met with the captain, who told us that Cleric Ringwald had been in their custody until recently. She had come seeking sanctuary, believing she would be safe under the guard’s watch. They’d reluctantly agreed to lock her up—from the look of it the jail cells weren’t getting much use anyways. However the next morning she had vanished, with only a note left behind, indicating she had been taken to the Unbound Hollow, a series of caverns that used to be a tourist attraction until a tribe of Duergar moved in and people began disappearing in the area. Terrance felt there was reason to believe the Duergar were responsible for kidnapping Ringwald, as well as a number of his men. We knew what we had to do—the future of Dual Wood depended upon us finding Ringwald after all. Captain Gladshire offered us compensation should we be able to rescue his men while we were seeking the cleric, to which my companions heartily agreed.

And so we set out, to the caverns a short walk from town. Before us loomed the dread Unbound Hollow. The mighty adventurers readied themselves to enter the cavern, with certainty in our hearts that we would find and rescue the captive cleric, and return the world to its rightful order. And with that, we stepped into the cavern.

...

And immediately fell through a trap waiting for us within the entrance.

#entry #pathfinder #pathfinder campaign #dungeons and dragons #d&d campaign #Morris 3M

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theabominableblogger · 6 years ago

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My Reaction to “Gotham” S5E1

LADIES AND GENTLE-PEOPLE, IT HAS ARRIVED!

We have waited almost 2/3 of a year for the final season to start airing. Cue a sigh of relief from the eager audience.

I was a lucky son of a duck and managed to get this reaction while the episode was airing live on FOX. This will hopefully also happen for the next episode but for episodes 3-12, I will be waiting for Hulu to receive because of an upcoming spring semester at college. So for episodes 3-12, I will be in the dark until Friday or Saturday (so no spoilers from y’all).

AN: I managed to record my reactions to this episode and hopefully I can transcribe what I said into this post. Also my youngest brother stepped in for a spell, so some of his comments are included.

Oooohhhhh, here we go.

*jaw utterly drops at the time card showing up*

*claps excitedly and snaps fingers toward my sister when “We’ll Meet Again” by Vera Lynn starts playing*

391? Wait, is this a flash forward?!?

*crosses arms in anticipation*

*Oswald’s men give him his red sunglasses* Yesss!!

*chuckles* Harvey! Choose your best beer to go to battle with. Yes!

*Jim suits up* Yee-eesss!

*leans forward and covers mouth in shock when Jim, Harvey, Oswald, and Ed walk to battle together*

Oh my God...

“For Gotham.” :O

*puts hands on head in shock* Oh my God, we’re opening with that-

*Opening title* OH MY GOD!

*jaw drops in shock when Oswald tests one of the guns from the factory*

*Scarecrow and his men crucify a man* :O

“And to date, there have no confirmed sightings of Jeremiah Valeska.” *smiles*

“No one is allowed in or out of Gotham.” My brother, who has never seen this show before: Wait, so if all power is down and no one can leave... so like, how do they go pee?

Me: Outside? Yeah, that’s a good question. They probably just revert back to the 1920s: they just pee or whatever and throw it outside.

My brother: (whispers) OMINOUS RADIO STATIC

Me: *cackles*

*Jim Gordon appears* My brother: Look, it’s Batman.

Me: He [Ben McKenzie] did play Batman in one movie.

“Say it walking, putz.” *chuckles*

“What did the Department of Douchebaggery say?” *snorts*

*chuckles when we first meet Ed, who is sleeping on a couch*

Oh, I want that dog.

He [Ed] looks terrible. That’s like if Count Olaf dyed his hair black and just wet it down.

“What is he [Ed] doing?” What’s your hair doing?

My brother: Dye-ing inside?

“[Jim] You know you can get someone else to turn on the spotlight?” “I like doing it.” *smiles*

“The doctors say Selina’s situation is getting worse.” *covers mouth*

“Are you [Bruce] sorry you stayed?” No.

“No. You [Jim]?” “Hell no.” *grins*

“Tabby’s still --- after Penguin murdered Butch right in front of her, so it’ll have to be two thousands rounds.” *grins*

*smiles when Barbara calls Tabitha “honey”*

“He’s [Oswald] gonna regret giving me [Tabitha] this [bullet].” *silently* Ooohhh...

*One of the officers at the border sees a shadow* Man-Bat?

*gets spooked by Scarecrow’s jump scare*

*jaw drops in horror when the fear toxin starts working on the officer*

“See? Ship shape and in Bristol fashion.” *smiles*

“Lucius gave me [Bruce] something better.” Night vision goggles?

*gasps when Scarecrow goes after Jim in the basement*

*laughing* He’s [Jim] gonna beat him [Scarecrow] with a rod?!?

“Fear lives in darkness.” My brother: Apparently, he’s [Scarecrow] never seen Bird Box.

*jaw drops when Jim and Scarecrow fight*

*gasps when one of the gas pipes burst*

Oh that was cool.

“...they got the beans.” *chuckles*

The one thing he’s [Harvey] upset about: they got his beans.

*Bruce starts taking down Scarecrow’s goons one by one* Oooohhhhhh hooooo....

“Scag?” Scag?!?

HOW IS HE [Bruce] UP THERE?!?!?

*jaw drops when the lights abruptly turn back on*

My brother: You have to understand, that dude’s [Bruce] blind now. If he has true night vision goggles and the lights come on, you’re blind for at least like an hour now.

I forget that Jonathan’s a teenager in this show...

The cinematography so far is... awesome.

*during the commercials* Oh my gosh, for the next ten episodes after this, I won’t be able to breathe like this.

“Tell them help is coming. I’ll [Bruce] fly in supplies.” Wha-

I like that they’ve already just acknowledged the fact that Bruce just does all these Stealth Hi-Byes whenever.

Even Lucius is like “Oh, helloooo...”

God, Bruce, oh my God... everyone’s just been through [the banger]...

“Doc says the surgery was a success.” Yay!

“My [Selina’s] spine’s not gonna turn into jelly.” *lifts hands in air and sighs in relief* Yes!

“Still will never be able to walk again so-” No.

“You know what’s funny? Jeremiah shot me [Selina] to get to you [Bruce].” *rolls eyes in frustration*

“After all the things I’ve done, what took me in was being your friend.” We’re not doing this.

“I just wish Jeremiah killed me.” We’re not doing this. John Stephens, how dare you.

“Doctors can’t help her [Selina]. She needs the witch.” Who the hell are you?!?

Who’s that lady?!?

Oh my God, are Oswald’s men gonna shoot down the chopper?

*One of the factory workers helps Oswald adjust his leg brace* There we go.

*Oswald starts eating a fancy dinner at his desk* Oh my God.

“OVERCOOKED!” *just hopelessly shrugs*

[Edward the Bulldog] *gasps loudly and puts hands on head* OH MY GODD!!

OH MY GOD! DOG! DOG DOG DOG!

*Oswald’s gun misfires* Wha-

*Oswald hears the chopper* Oh my God, he’s gonna shoot down the chopper!

Selina’s gonna end up like Tabitha once we get into the Batman era.

“Is that a chopper?” Oh my God, everybody’s gonna be clamoring for that!

*The chopper gets shot down* Called it!

Lo Boyz? Wait, so if there’s like a Day of the Dead area, is there a Chinatown in Gotham?

AN: Yes there is.

Alfred!

“Just keep an eye on things while I’m [Jim] gone.” You’re gonna leave Alfred in charge of the GCPD? The AU that could’ve been!

*A car comes into the wreck zone* Oh no, it’s Oswald.

*gasps when Oswald’s men shoot the Lo Boyz at the crashed chopper*

“It is so good to see you, old friend [Jim].” Why do you [Oswald] keep calling him that?!?

Who shot down the chopper? Oh my God, did Tabitha shoot down the chopper?

Oh my God, Tabitha shot down the chopper to get to Oswald. WHY?!?

*Tabitha holds Oswald in a choke hold* Oh my God!

“I [Oswald] may have pulled the trigger, but you [Tabitha] killed Butch.” *WTF*

*jaw drops in shock when Tabitha’s gun misfires*

*reels back in horror when Oswald stabs Tabitha to death*

*covers mouth in shock*

*keels over when commercials roll*

*to my dad, who just strolled in* Congratulations Dad, you just witnessed a major character death!

My dad: But is she really dead though?

Me: Don’t do this to me.

*Camera focuses on dead Tabitha* Oh my God...

*jaw drops when Barbara starts a shootout*

“Uh-oh, it sounds a little quiet over there!” *laughs*

*utterly elated when Bruce fights his way to Oswald’s ammunition van*

*gasps when Oswald tags Barbara in the shoulder*

“I [Harvey] could kiss you, kid [Bruce].” *chuckles*

“I WILL RIP OUT YOUR HEART!” :O

“Can we [Oswald and Barbara] move past this?” No!

*gasps in horror when Oswald pistol whips Barbara across the face*

*jaw drops and covers mouth in shock when Jim shoots Oswald’s bad leg*

I was a big time crime lord, and then I took a bullet to the knee.

*gasps and reels back* THAT’S ECCO!

Oh, her jacket’s awesome!

“We want you to know that you have allies across the river. We will find a way to help you.” “Who are you?” Who the frick are you?

*gasps very softly when Jim finds his map of No Man’s Land covered in the cult graffiti*

Also, come on, Jeremiah, (claps with each word) do something original! Why are we reusing the cult imagery?

Oh my God, please don’t tell me that was the end of the episode.

Also, holy crap, Ecco grew out her hair in 87 days! No wonder she’s able to get it all poofy and everything.

Yeah, if Season 5 is gonna do what I think it’s gonna do and just have back-to-back plot threads/events, this might be my favorite season.

Oh wait, that wasn’t the end?!?

Please tell it’s Ed in the dumpster, please tell me it’s Ed in the dumpster.

*lifts hands in air when Ed wakes up in his dumpster* Yeesss!!

At least he has his hat...

Ooooohhh the Riddler theme kicking in...

“What is happening to me [Ed]?” Amnesia? Narcolepsy?

*Barbara gives Tabitha one final kiss* I am actually... sad.

*reels back in shock when the workers try to get the bullets out of Oswald’s leg*

Oh my God, they don’t have anesthesia! Because of provisions!

Seriously, who is this lady [the nurse in the clinic]? Is she an agent?

*Selina eyes the scalpel on the cart* Selina, you cannot get up.

*jaw drops in horror when the doctors have to knock out Selina*

Oh my God...

“She was trying to kill herself.” *sits back and puts hands on head*

“I [the nurse] told you [Bruce], if you wanna cure her [Selina] , you have to go to the witch.” Who is this lady?

AN: If she’s the “real Harleen Quinzel,” Imma fight some writers.

“Where do I find this witch?” It’s Ivy!

*gasps when one of the officers brings a battered kid to Gordon*

Whaaa...

*laughs and reels back* Oh my- that’s the end of the episode!

I love this ending logo!

*pretty much freaking loses it at the season promo during the credits*

*has to walk around room to calm down* Well that happened.

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greekowl87 · 7 years ago

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Fic: Beach Evening

It’s becoming a series I think. It’s encouraged to read the others but not required. Tried and True - Midnight Blues

I don’t write much of the early seasons with MSR but this one takes place during ‘Little Green Men’ after their escape from Arichebo and before they get back to D.C. Just some early UST MSR. Sort of. Kind of. Let’s just call it early MSR.

I started this as a distraction in between writing my seminar papers and I am finishing this with a bout of insomnia induced anxieties concerning my seminar papers and my ability to write anything at all. I can’t make words.

Thanks for reading. Sorry for typos. No beta. Tagging @today-in-fic

Mulder smiled as and mumbled a heavily accented 'gracias' as he took his change and grocery back from the bodega down from the crummy seaside hotel and he and Scully found themselves in. The air was still heavy with humidity but nothing like the dense jungle in Arecibo. The sea air had taken away some of it and it made him feel a bit less suffocated. He walked the sidewalk and turned down an alley and took the stairs up to an aged three-story building. He nodded to the old man sitting at the front desk who was more interesting in the newspaper in front of him to pay attention to Mulder coming or going.

He knocked quickly on their door and called, "Scully, it's me. Are you decent?"

The blue door to the hotel room was pulled back and he saw his partner with her red hair tied back and wearing a white tank top. "Like that would stop you," she teased, "did you bring us dinner?"

He shrugged and replied, "It depends on what you call dinner." Mulder placed the bag on the small table that sat in the corner of their room. He took out a small box and opened it for her inspection. "Pinchos is what they are called."

"It's meat on a stick, Mulder. How very you."

"Don't condemn me so fast, Scully. I don't see a microwave or a McDonald's nearby." He could hear the teasing in her voice. "I got some bread to go with it and..." He paused for dramatic effect and pulled out the small bottle of rum. "Ta-da."

"Mulder!" She chuckled. "Really?"

"Why not? Let's go sit on the beach and watch the sunsets and eat our meat on a stick." He smiled boyishly at her. "Come on, Scully. You come all the way to Puerto Rico to save my ass, it's the least I can do to do to wine and dine my partner. It's better than a Watergate parking garage."

"Mulder," she sighed. "What happened to keeping a low profile? I told you that I was followed in D.C. and you are the one who insisted we take a boat back to Flordia."

"Come on, Scully, we've shared drinks before. You know I'm a good date. I'll behave."

Yes, that night, Scully thought. It went unspoken between them except for the small ‘thank you’ she had nervously given him the next morning she saw him and it was never mentioned again but she had noticed a shift in their dynamic and working partnership too, and like most things again, that went unspoken in between them too.

"Oh, come on, Scully," Mulder smiled encouragingly.

She sighed, deciding to indulge his little fantasy. "Fine," she conceded, "but only if it will shut you up for the rest of the night about playing coco cabana."

He gave a soft smile and cleverly decided to push his luck.

. . . .

On some stray beach blanket Mulder had produced, they sat eating their pinchos with two small paper cups filled with small amounts of Puerto Rican rum and a small bottle wrapped in a paper bag and coke bottle. "You know what this is missing," Scully mused, picking at the kebab stick. "Ice."

"You know, I never knew why they always served limes with rum and cokes or just call it for what it is, a cuba libre."

Scully felt the adrenaline wearing off and herself enjoying the companionable mood between them. The sunset was had just set to the slight left of them over the Atlantic sea. A rainbow of unearthly color painted the sky. The small, squashy waves were pounding the shore as high tide was rolling in and the tropical air felt refreshing since the first time since the plane had landed. "Not possible," she corrected, sipping the drink. She winced at the alcoholic burn. "The cuba libre was first thought to have in the Spanish-American war, which predates the distribution of Coca-Cola. However, in 1898, there was a variation of a drink known as a cuba libre that had water and brown sugar I believe."

Mulder just took a moment to stare at her, either impressed or questioning her insanity.

"I read a lot," she clarified as if trying to justify her answer.

"I wasn't thinking that. You really are smarter than me," he confessed with mock horror.

She let a bubbling giggle escape her chest as Mulder just grinned goofily. "Well, I have to be with the way you covered your trail. It was almost impossible to find you, Mr. Hale."

"Ah, so you know my secret identity, Mrs. Hale?" That was the first time he had said something like that but she did not know why it struck her differently. Mulder nodded back out to the ocean. "What made you come after me? We technically aren't partners."

"Maybe not in the eyes of the Bureau. I meant what I said back at the Watergate. I am worried about you. I know they have me stuck in Quantico teaching again and you stuck transcribing tapes for white collar, but I do worry. You only come to call when you need help busting a conspiracy wide open or me to save your ass."

"Well, we have proof this time, Scully, I'm positive," Mulder replied gazing back out into the ocean distantly. "It may not be the proof or answers to what happened to Samantha but it's something. The work can finally be validated. I just know it." He turned to Scully thoughtfully and squeezed her hand quickly in thanks. "And there's you."

There's me, she repeated to herself. Scully returned his gesture with a squeeze and small smile of her own. "What do you say we finish up and head back? Doesn't the boat leave before dawn tomorrow to go back to Miami and then from there we fly back to D.C?"

He nodded as he finished the last of his pincho. He wiped his hands on his jeans and nodded to their drinks. "We can finish up back and the room and watch some telenovelas. There's only one bed too, Scully." He waggled his eyebrows playfully and she scoffed in amusement.

"Sorry, the tropical island doesn't do it for me, Mulder. Sorry."

She gathered up the rest of their dinner as they trudged up the sandy beach and towards their ancient hotel. Mulder flicked on the fuzzy television as Scully headed towards the bathroom to clean up. He smiled as he shifted through the bookbag he had brought, grateful that Scully had bought him a change of clothes to wear. He slipped into a tank top and clean pair of jeans, not wanting to read more into the situation. There was only one queen bed in the room and no couch.

It had happened twice before, the whole one bed and the two of them sharing it trope where they had to share a bed on a case. Nothing had happened but after the nightmare on the Icy Cape and the moment of affirmation of their trust, other small things had started to happen instead which he tried to overlook. That went unspoken by them too. She appeared from the bathroom dressed in shorts and an oversized t-shirt, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. "What side do you want, Mulder," she asked, peeling back the covers.

Nothing else to this, he reminded himself, but poor luck in accommodations.

"Um, the left side. I know you are partial to sleeping on the right side of the bed."

She smiled gratefully. "You can pick what's on the tv."

Scully slipped beneath the light covers as Mulder got in next to her. Completely platonic, he reminded himself as he watched her turn onto her side and was asleep within minutes thanks in part to the rum they had earlier that night. He remembered falling asleep late watching a baseball game. When he awoke later, as he typically did because of his insomnia, he had found at some point in the night, Scully and nestled her sleeping self comfortably against his side with an arm and leg snaked across him. He smiled slightly. They may have taken away the work, prevented him from finding the truth, but he now just realized he had Scully. He had still had Scully. He nuzzled her hair without thinking, taking in her scent and smiling. And probably for the millionth time, he silently thanked whatever unknown forces that had brought Scully into his life.

#xfiles #xf fic #todayinfic #txf #txf fic #msr #msr fic #early msr #mulder #scully #mulder and scully #little green men #insomnia writing #i really should sleep #my fic #missing scene

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theabominableblogger · 6 years ago

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My Reaction to “Gotham” S4E4

Heck yeah, I’m on S4!

Also, four for you, Ben McKenzie (for writing this episode)! Because this episode was super good!

AN: I managed to record my reactions to this episode and hopefully I can transcribe what I said into this post.

*Recap shows Barbara kissing Ra’s* Nope!

*covers up screen with phone* Nope!

“Perhaps you [Bruce] should consider what it [the knife] is before you drop two million dollars on it, shouldn’t you?” *chuckles*

*Bruce leaves the knife at the museum overnight* Oh this is such a bad idea…

Whoa!

Oh that camera angle though [as it goes from upside down to focus on Ed]! That’s awesome!

“Tomorrow night, Oswald…” Lemme guess… YOU DIE!

“…is the night you die.” Called it.

I still think it’s a really bad idea that they left the knife THERE by itself with two people who probably have no idea about Ra’s al Ghul.

“Alex, bring me the Palmerian Codex.” The what the what Codex?

I know there’s an actual name for this knife but I forget what they called it, starts with a “B” or something

AN: It’s formerly called the Balashi Blade, because it was originally intended to be an embalming knife

OK, so they do know about Ra’s al Ghul!

I feel like, if you take this whole Ra’s al Ghul thing out of context, or if you place this show in modern times, people would probably react to this like “Wait? That sounds like some Da Vinci code shit.”

“He [Ra’s al Ghul] was a warlord.” He was a warlord… who got caught up in some shit!

I’m sorry, I’m cussing so much in this. It’s like you see something so much that you allow yourself to make fun it of it even though you enjoy it. That’s it.

That… is a rather pathetic looking lion [in one of the display cases at the museum]. I mean, it’s been taxidermied, but it has a really small mane. Either that’s a juvenile or he just did not have enough testosterone in his system at all.

*Someone knocks on the door to the office* Please tell me it’s Ra’s al Ghul at the door.

He’s gonna be like “Hiiiii, I heard that someone was in possession of something I own. Or rather not ‘I own’ but other people have owned, but it’s been passed down to me, so technically, it’s mine. I own it.”

And the guy’s like “Uhhhh, no… we have plenty of knives here. We just don’t have the one you’re looking for. I’m so sorry sir.”

And Ra’s is like…. “Why you always lyin’…”

OK, I’m done.

IT IS HIM!

In this episode, if he does the whole “Bruce, be the Dark Knight the prophecy told you to be,” I’m gonna slap this laptop off this inn table.

Plus, this is quite possibly the best version of Ra’s al Ghul I’ve ever seen. I mean, I still like Liam Neeson’s Ra’s al Ghul but Alexander Siddig is actually of Arabic descent. And plus he’s just so charismatic!

“I’m [Ra’s] looking for a knife Bruce Wayne bought you [Dr. Winthrop] earlier today.” Because I am obsessed!

*gasps when Ra’s stabs Dr. Winthrop*

Where’d the kid [Alex the grandson] go?

*jams out to the opening theme*

“Harper, where’s Bullock?” “He asked me to fill him. He took a sabbatical for a few days.” Really?

Why does the actress that play Harper look really familiar?

They’re [Jim and Harper] just gonna let Bruce walk into an active crime scene investigaton?

“But I [Bruce] paid a great deal for it [the knife], and there was another bidder, a very aggressive one: Barbara Kean.” Haha, Jim’s just like “God dammit…”

Another panning transition shot! Take a shot!

God, Barbara, change your haaaaaiiirrrr! Ugh, or let it grow out. Please.

“If you [Barbara] had acquired the knife when I [Ra’s] first requested it, they wouldn’t be necessary.” I thought you said it was OK that Bruce got it!

Whoa!

“His name is Anubis.” Whaaat?

Whaaaaaatt?!? Did I step into an episode of “Hannibal?” What’s going on?

There’s Riddler’s hat!

“You know, your [Sofia’s] father taught me [Oswald] many things. Among them was to nurture a healthy paranoia.” Hooo….

“I’ll stab you.” HAHA!

Wow, way to make a lady in Gotham feel welcome, Oswald!

*”White Rabbit” by Jefferson Airplane plays in Barbara’s place* Ooohh, good song. Good song!

“You [Barbara] seem different.” Yeah, she took a rejuvenating bath in a certain famous neon green pit.

“Is it Ra’s al Ghul?” Whoooooo!!

BRUCE WAYNE, WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?!?

Oh that’s a cool shot of them [Jim and Bruce] just arguing in the alley!

“Ra's al Ghul is the real leader of the Court of Owls. He is the one responsible for the virus and having me kidnapped.” “And you [Bruce] didn't think to mention any of this before?” *claps appreciatively* Yes! Thank you, Jim!

“Why would he [Ra’s] want the knife?” Plot.

*scoffs* He [Jim] just hanged up on Harper?!?

*jaw drops in shock as the rappers deliver Ed’s riddle to Oswald*

*cracks up when Victor starts jamming out to it*

“What the hell was that?” HeheHAHA…

EDWARD SENT RAPPERS TO OSWALD! Oh my God, that’s amazing!

*has to take a minute to laugh*

“I [Oswald] want Victor to freeze him [Ed] again.” “Huh?” “Not you, the other Victor!” *just about ends up crying laughing*

“Earth meets sky, water flows, birds fly.” The pier!

“I [Oswald] want Ed Nygma.” AGAIN! Because you’re Oswald Cobblepot in this show!

He’s [Alex] hiding in the records room in broad daylight? With a bunch of windows?

*lets out a small gasp when we hear commotion outside the archive room*

Holy crap, Bruce has definitely grown! Oh my gosh… how tall is he at this point?

*Anubis jumps Jim* Whoa!

*Anubis’s handler starts speaking some ancient language.” Great.

*gasps when Anubis manages to bite Alex’s wrist*

*Jim knocks over all the bookshelves on Anubis* Ooooohhhhhh!!!

Where’s the knife hidden?

*Ra’s enters the precinct* OH MY FREAKING GOD!

“Ra's al Ghul. Minister of Antiquities attached to the consulate of Nanda Parbat.” OH. MY GOD!

“This is the guy that you're [Jim] looking at for murder? Why does he just walk in?” Why would you [Jim] openly discuss this with Harper right in front of the captain’s office, where Ra’s al Ghul is sitting, and Ra’s can probably read lips?

“I [Bruce] need to get you [Alex] to a hospital-” “No, no.” “Then the police.” DO NOT GO TO THE PRECINCT! Ra’s is there!

Hide! Go to Wayne Manor or something! Hide in the Batcave!

“You’re [Bruce]…weirdly cool.” Oh my gosh, that’s awesome.

Why would you [Jim] bring the evidence bag with you INTO THE CAPTAIN’S OFFICE?!?

I can’t believe Ra’s has the freaking balls to walk into the precinct himself and ask for assistance on looking for the knife.

Oh my God…

“May I [Ra’s] see the knife, Detective? It would so set my mind at ease.” *hisses in panic*

*gasps and sits back in shock when Alfred accidentally walks in on Jim interviewing Ra’s*

*Ra’s disappears* WHERE THE CRAP DID HE GO?

*freezes when we can hear Victor shoot the remaining Falcone loyalists outside*

“My [Sofia’s] father wouldn't have killed those men. He would have invited me to his club, as you did, but then gone further. He would have invited me to dinners. Had us seen in public. Sent the message that the old order supports me. And those men you killed would have pledged you loyalty. Now they're fertilizer.” Whoooo hoo hooo! Whoo!

Oh my God, Sofia’s probably gonna wipe the floor with Oswald’s ass later this season.

*gasps when we hear commotion outside the museum exhibit where Bruce and Alex are*

*Anubis enters* Oh that mothereffer!

Who’s the due with him that has half his face painted?

“Harper. If Mr. Pennyworth tries to leave, arrest him.” Ooohhhh…

“At midnight I'll make this one easy/ This place makes some people lie/ Some people speak/ And some people cry.” Speakeasy? A club? Iceberg Lounge!

Yeah, it’s the Iceberg Lounge! Yeah, and he’s [Oswald] crying there all the time.

“Can we please just torture them now?” “WHY NOT?!?” Haha!

*gasps when Anubis tackles Bruce to the ground*

*Anubis and Jim fall through the sabertooth tiger skeleton case* Oooohhh!

Bruce, what are you doing?!? Get Alex out of there!

*Alex beats Anubis off Bruce* Alex, get out of there! Where’s the knife?!?

*Jim accidentally distracts Anubis with a rib bone* Oh my God.

*Jim throws the bone out the window* OHHH my God.

*Jaw drops when Anubis leaps out after it* Well he’s gone.

*Jim stabs the handler in the stomach with another rib bone* Ooooohhhh!

Where’s Alex?!?

“Bruce, hand me [Jim] the knife.” WHAT?!?!? NO!

“He [Ra’s] killed Alfred. And then brought him back to life. And Alex's grandfather was afraid of this knife. I can't give it to him.” Bruuuccee!!

*yells in horror when Ra’s kills Alex*

God dang it… GUYYSSSSS!!

“This is all my fault.” Bruce, this is not!

“Alex is dead because of me. I killed him.” Bruce….

“Your [Ed’s] riddles suck.” HAHA!

“The answer was Stoker’s Cemetery. Only an idiot wouldn’t see that.” Nooo…

“Tell me, how long did it take you to come up with those riddles?” “I don’t know. A minute? Two minutes? A few hours… six hours.” What?

OK, that’s terrible.

“Oswald, I’m [Ed] gonna shoot you.” *In best Jerome impression* In the face!

*Mr. Freeze walks in* Oooooohhh!

“You remember him? My other Victor?” The other Victor!

“Stop. I changed my mind.” Oh my freaking- OSWALD!

I am so sick of this! They keep going back and forth on this whole Oswald and Ed weird friendship/relationship thingy!

*Jim grabs Sofia’s hand before she can touch him* Hoooo….

Oh my God..

*Jim and Sofia end up kissing* OH my God…

Oh…Oh…

*Jim and Sofia end up making out on the couch* OOHHHHH!!

Oh my gosh, why are they putting Ra’s in freaking Blackgate?

Oh my gosh, he [Ra’s] has the haircut!

*jams out to the ending theme*

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