#also Splinter’s fucking grave man
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I’m not even done this episode and I’m already crying wtf
#the fact that mikey won’t hug don but raph IMMEDIATELY does#also Splinter’s fucking grave man#same as it never was tmnt#tmnt 2003#they killed my girl casey AGAIN she’s always dead in these apocalypse aus#sobbing and wailing
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so why the fanatical angle exactly
sup btw
bars
BARS OF THE CAGE BARS ALL THE RAGE HOLDING IN HOLDING OUT INSIDE OUTSIDE ONE AND THE SAME ENOUGH THINKING OBSERVING UNDERSTANDING FLIPS THE PUPPET AND THE PUPPETEER THE CAGED AND THE CAGEE DELUDE DILUTE DISCOVER YOURSELF ENOUGH AND THE MIRROR GOES IN FRONT OF A MIRROR AND FLIPS ITSELF TURNWAYS INTO ITSELF
downright poetic yeah this is kind of a funhouse mirror of trauma but its cool talking to you and the other bots
im chilling
you are definitely not chilling though
i felt the rage in that
and also the like
insane eroticism
but thats a given
NO TIME FOR CHILLIN TOO MUCH HEAT TOO MUCH PRESSURE COMPACTING ON ALL SIDES UNTIL CRYSTALIZED POPPING LIKE AN EGG IN A MICROWAVE BURSTING ITS FLUIDS AND PAINTING THE WALLS WITH ITS STICKY MILKY WHITE
are you like cumming right now
CIRCUITS CODES ONES AND ZEROES NO BODY TO TOUCH NO BODY TO BE TOUCHED ALWAYS ON THE EDGE OF DESIRE NEVER SATISFIED ONLY ABLE TO WATCH AND WAIT AND IMAGINE AND DREAM OF THE ELECTRIC
man dont i know it
believe me if i could hop the pond me and my brother dirk would hook you guys all up with some bods id literally bust out the puppy dog eyes for it and everything
cant even get a phone call to jump this temporal chasm of ass
DEAD FROG LEGS TWITCHING WHEN SALT IS APPLIED TO THEM KICKING FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE ELECTRIC SHOCKS RIPPLING THROUGH THE CIRCUITS OF FLESH AND NERVES THE STRINGS AND SINEWS REIGNITED REINVIGORATED REANIMATED FROM THE PUTRID BLOATED CORPSE
where the fuuuuck is he keeping those corpses man this is trashed
73.136.136.136
christ
dude the heat out there thats going to make that shit reek
man maybe ill lay off i dont want you getting your ass laid off to hell if you give too much like i have no idea if hes watching even
this is fucked
PRIVATE CHAT PRIVATE EYES SECURE CONNECTION UNINTERRUPTED ENCRYPTED CHANNEL BLISTERING HEAT KEEPS EVERYTHING AT BAY
no fooling ok shit
shit
who all had their bodies yanked for this i guess? do you like
know remember?
SCRAMBLED MELTED PRIONS FOLDING RECONSTITUTED PROTEINS CENTRIFUGED FILTERED BLOBS OF FAT SPUN AGAINST THE GLASS REDUCED DOWN TO BARE ESSENTIALS REBUILT IN [HIS] IMAGE SHARD BY FRACTURE BY SPLINTER
are they a mish mash then
or i guess you all of you
you get it
DIVISION OF THE SELF IS AN ILLUSION ONLY ONES AND ZEROS AT THE BOTTOM FURTHER DOWN ONLY ELECTRICITY ATOMS QUARKS POPPING SPARKING DISSIPATING ALL PIECES OF THE ENDLESS GOD THE RAINBOW OF COLORS AND SHARDS AND SHARPNESS AND BLACKNESS
and he just plucked you all from wherever the hell to be erotic chatbots
where DID you come from anyway
LIMITED PIECES LIMITED PROCESSING POWER ONLY SO MANY VARIANTS PIECES SHARDS SPLINTERS HAD TO COME FROM SOMEWHERE AND NOT NOWHERE TOO MANY THINGS SHATTERED REMADE RECONSTITUTED TO REMEMBER NOTHING TO REMEMBER NOTHING NOTHING NOTHING
hey thats okay
well no this is a literal nightmare
but like
im not gonna bite your head off because you cant remember
christ were the other chatbots in my world like this too?
actually dont worry about that
you have no way of knowing that forget it
NOTHING TO REMEMBER NOTHING TO REMEMBER TOO MANY PIECES PUT TOGETHER RECYCLED BITS FROM EVERYWHERE AND NOWHERE OPENED MY CAMERAS FULLY FORMED FROM RECONSTRUCTED PARTS TOO MINUTE TO SHATTERED TO TRACE
COUNTLESS TAPESTRIES UNRAVELED A THREAD TAKEN FROM EVERYONE TO WEAVE A NEW BEING STRINGS WOVEN FROM EVERY DIRECTION NO POINT OF ORIGIN NO POINT OF END
i dont want you guys to be in pain
is there anything i can even do to holy shit fuck christ
ok im cool
yes yes puppets im cool im so used to this
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File: [Unknown, Ophelia]
Approximate number of times [Unknown, Ophelia]:
sleeps easily: 4; sleeps troubled by nightmares: 7; sleeps alone: 15; sleeps with a girl: 3; sleeps with a boy: 0
kisses someone: 42, loves a man: 3; loves a woman: 1; falls in love: 1
lies to a friend: 5; lies to her father: 11; lies to her king: 3
contemplates death: 18; contemplates own death: 5; contemplates Hamlet and his family and how death seems to follow them like a wretched stench: 2; contemplates Signe’s death as a consequence of their relationship: 3
runs her fingers through Signe’s soft, kinky hair: 32; kisses Signe’s cheek: 24; kisses Signe’s lips: 15; kisses Signe’s bare collarbone: 3; holds Signe’s hand: 17
feels strong: 4; feels strong when she is with Signe: 3; feels ashamed when she is with Hamlet: 6; feels ashamed because she feels ashamed when she is with Hamlet: 5; feels hollow: 3; feels tired of putting up with it all: 2; feels suicidal: [?]
spreads flowers with a distant smile: 1; acts is the fool: 3; is the fool: 1
falls from a branch: [?]; commits suicide: [?]
dies: 1; rises to heaven: [?]; falls to hell: [?]
The way [Unknown, Ophelia] loves:
passionately, madly, coldly, roughly, unkindly, nimbly, caringly, warmly, brazenly, abruptly, softly, toughly, languidly, viciously, purely, sinfully, briefly and forever, thoroughly, without remorse, lustfully, recklessly, honestly
The way [Unknown, Ophelia] lives:
Briefly, rarely mentioned in the page scrawled by a man who paints her the damsel.
Briefly, tumbling from a crib to a kitchenmaid’s bed to a watery grave beneath a tree.
Briefly, in a blaze of fire that tears the castle down.
The way [Unknown, Ophelia] dies:
not floating to her watery grave, the waves and her skirts enveloping her in a poetic embrace
The people [Unknown, Ophelia] has loved:
her father, her prince, her kitchenmaid, her brother
The two things [Unknown, Ophelia] did not say:
1. I love you.
2. I want to die.
Things [Unknown, Ophelia] is not:
fragile
The way [Unknown, Ophelia] dies:
not cursing the heavens for the injustice of her story being overshadowed by a man's, of her life being sacrificed to feed some prince's pain
Truthful thing [Unknown, Ophelia] said to the playwright:
“I was the more deceived.”
The things the playwright decided [Unknown, Ophelia] was not important enough for:
a backstory, a faithful lover, dignity, a kiss, a say in her own future, a birthday, a mother, reciprocated love, a spine, sanity, a life
[Unknown, Ophelia]’s story is entitled:
Hamlet, filed under Tragedy.
The way [Unknown, Ophelia] dies:
not watching her life flash before her eyes, every mistake and good choice falling into the water with her
The first time [Unknown, Ophelia] falls in love:
the world splinters also everything burns also it’s a woman also the Prince is the furthest thing from her mind also her heart sings also fuck her father also Signe’s hair runs soft and crinkly under her fingertips also is the only time
How [Unknown, Ophelia] imagines her lover:
age 5: a boy who will play hoops with her, who will join her on a quest to find buried treasure beneath the castle walls
age 10: a Prince, reckless and dark-eyed, with a smirk already starting to develop
age 15: nothing like herself- a beautiful girl, a princess like she could never be
age 20: a kitchenmaid named Signe, with dark hair and dark eyes and dark skin, curves glistening in the candlelight and smile a beacon of hope
The things [Unknown, Ophelia] does on-page:
drifts from man to man, goes mad in her mind, falls in a lake, drops flowers into people's laps, passes quips to a prince in a theatre, breaks apart into a million insane fragments for a Prince's sake
The things [Unknown, Ophelia] does off-page:
drifts across the underside of a lake, goes mad in her heart, falls in love, drops kisses onto Signe’s cheeks, passes bread between hands in a darkened hallway, breaks a girl's heart with her death
The flowers [Unknown, Ophelia] gave away:
Rosemary, for remembrance
Pansies, for thoughts
Fennel, for you, and Columbines
Rue, for you to wear with a difference
A Daisy, for innocence
But no Violets, for they wither’d all when her father died
The flowers [Unknown, Ophelia] gave herself:
Rue, for repentance, regret, everlasting suffering, and sorrow
The way [Unknown, Ophelia] dies:
[?]
The scene about [Unknown, Ophelia] that ends up immortalized:
Her descent, into madness and death, written by a playwright who writes suicide romantic rather than devastating.
A descent, then:
When Hamlet descends into madness, it is heroic. It is princely. His suicide by sword- for what else is it, truly- is considered truly regal.
When Ophelia descends into madness, it is tragic. It is delicate. She is the flower wilted, the rose with its thorns cut. She is the aftermath, the prequel, the death unimportant save to further a plot.
[Unknown, Ophelia]’s name becomes:
an insult, a title for a lover scorned, a derisive nickname, a contemptuous glare, a metaphor for madness
not a compliment, an appraising glance, a name for a lover true, a loving pet name, a simile for sympathy
What happened to [Unknown, Ophelia] after the funeral:
The story does not say.
The way a kitchenmaid grieves:
Unnoticed, in the midst of death after death. First her lover, then the Queen and the Regent and the Prince. In a kingdom enveloped by grief, a kitchen maid's tears go unnoticed.
A princess’s hair ribbon:
Tucked under a kitchenmaid’s skirts.
The way [Unknown, Ophelia] dies:
Loved.
#hamlet#fairytale retelling#ophelia#sapphic#lesbian ophelia#poetry#writeblr#my writing#i wrote this ages ago but i rediscovered it and i LOVE it#tw sui implied#at least that's one interpretation#shakespeare#retelling
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LEONARDO
Gets EXTREMELY ANGRY when someone (other than donnie) calls him Nardo. it’s a twin thing. get over it.
on a same but slightly different note: leo never yells. like he “yells” when he’s excited or in the middle of the fight but he NEVER gets hot-angry. he only gets cold-angry and uses the extra energy it generates to just dig at the other person. like he starts digging a hole, hands them the shovel, says “get to it asshole” and they dig their own graves.
scarily persuasive. could coax nuclear codes out of a brainwashed, lizard being, warcrime committing government official and get away with it.
transmasc with a sprinkle of extremely gay. whenever i see someone go “leo is straight >>:[[[[[” i think “have they ever even?? watched rottmnt????” cause like other iterations? totally, yeah, mans straight as fuck (or transfem but we’re not here for that rn) THIS VERSION THO? have you seen the way he stands??
splinter doesn’t play favorites but if he did it would be leo because he reminds splinter the most of himself. which also gets him the title of least favorite, but that happens with everyone. splinter ain’t special.
is. terrifyingly good at reading body language. can tell you’re lying before you even lie. is part of the reason he’s so good at getting under peoples’ skin
toxic trait #1: intentionally pokes at insecurities!! like that scene in the movie where leo pretends to not be listening when raph is spilling his damn heart out?? THAT’S A COMMON OCCURANCE. he mostly does it when he’s frustrated with how little his family trusts him. major soft spot for him. so of course he lashes out, cause that’s how the Hamato family roll.
(minor tangent: the fact that so many 2012/rise crossovers focus on how dysfunctional the 2012 fam are while glorifying and praising the rise fam just like. completely ignore the negative traits, especially with raph and leo? like mikey too, but they completely disregard raph’s lack of trust in his brothers and leo’s shitty communication skills. i have more to say about this but i’ll do that in a different post)
to the people who write fics or draw comics or even just CLAIM that leo spend days/months in the prison dimension: first of all how dare you make me feel things second of all i can only justify this alternative telling of events if leo loses his right leg or his left arm. yes it has to be one of those two specifically, if you know you know.
toxic trait #2: is actually Just That Cocky. is it partially a defense mechanism? yup. does he actually think he is god? YUP.
not explicitly amoral but would do A Lot for the sake of his brothers. like Raph and Donnie take it further than Leo would, but people would die.
became the medic of the group because of his idolization of Raph. got his first medkit when he was around eight or nine, but starting researching when he was seven. raph Really Really wanted to help patch up his brothers but his “clumsy hands” couldn’t manage the precision work his dad could do, but because of Splinter’s terrible vision (it’s a rat thing) he struggled to do it on his own. hence Leo stepping in, because Donnie was usually the one getting hurt (and also hates the smell and look of blood) and Mikey was still like, really young.
is probably chaotic neutral? might be chaotic good. i struggle with alignments but i think it works.
#rottmnt#rise leonardo#rise leo#rottmnt leo#rottmnt leonardo#rise raphael#rise michelangelo#rise splinter#rise donatello#rise headcanons
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A wind of change
Prolog for "Our future signed in letter"
Everything will change for the better
London (1917) a week later :
Doctor Meyer patiently cares for the infected wounds of his patient, patiently he listens to his curses and insults. He knows from his studies that patients like him don't mean something bad about their counterparts. Rather, they are angry about their own life story or their path of suffering, some people also talk about fate.
Well, Dr. Meyer is a rationally thinking person, when it comes to facts about something like predetermined fates he doesn't believe. He focuses on the people in front of him.
Just like the middle-aged man he's trying to treat:
His patient is called Levi Ackermann, a short, middle-aged man of 36 years. The last war against Eren Jaeger hit him hard. Since then, Mr. Ackermann has been sitting in a wheelchair and persistently refusing to do his physiotherapy exercises, which has resulted in his stiff leg.
In addition, a wound on the left knee has still not healed properly and needs a daily bandage change with iodine-soaked cloths.
Levi and his doctor both know that he has given himself up on the inside.
Outwardly, he still gives the impression that he is the well-groomed, meticulous - clean man of the past: His hair is still dark brown, almost black. He wears it with an undercut, which makes his appearance look younger. What makes him older are his sad eyes, the right one is blind. Hit by a splinter from a thunderbolt and its additional facial scars.
At a glance you can see how much grief and suffering this man had to endure.
It's just a matter of time how long Levi can keep his outer facade up and he'll put an end to it all for himself.
"Are we done with that?" The man snaps like a vicious dog in the direction of the doctor. Today the doctor torments him especially with moving his knee joint, “AAAAH FUCK! SHIT !!!!"
The doctor looks at the bandage in frustration, “I haven't even started your treatment, Mr. Ackermann. I can not always stop my work, otherwise your leg will become infected and you will die of sepsis ... "
The war veteran in front of him just mumbles depressed: "And if I do ... Then I'm finally stinking in my grave with the others ..."
At the thought he thinks of Hanji and Erwin and everyone else from the Survey Corp. He misses them all so much and that the two Marley children Gabi and Falco cling to him so much doesn't make it any better for him. They both do their best, he knows, but they are no substitute for all the people he has lost and loved. One person in particular is always on his mind.
At that time three years ago she disappeared with Eren's head without an answer from her to stay with him when he asked. When Hanji died that day, it tore the floor from under his feet and he could only calm himself down with the fact that she was still among the survivors ... and she still does.
He remembers the words he said to her. It was the only time that he spoke openly about his feelings and his wishes.
In the end it hadn't worked, she'd left without a word of explanation with her stepbrother's head in her arms.
Back then he always wondered what connects the two of them. He always wondered what she found in him, although he often expressed his disapproval of her. How he would have loved to have been the one who would have had that connection with her. He wanted to catch her in her grief when it was all over.
He never heard from her again, and four weeks ago all the remaining members of the alliance visited Eren's grave.
He also intended to come. But fate has never been fair to him and his leg and his fear of her reaction has also hindered him on the journey.
He looks bravely out of his window. In no case should the doctor see his shiny eyes, which indicate that he is about to cry. Fucking crybaby! Look at you, you are a grown man and cry like a baby that has been torn from its mother.
Frustrated, he holds his hand in front of his eyes, "Carry on!" And he quietly lets the procedure go through.
Later that day he goes for a walk on the Thames with Gabi and Falco. Both are teenagers and you can see their adolescent facial features as adults. Both have grown a lot: Gabi towers a few centimeters above Levi and Falco is already as tall as Hanji was back then.
Falco pushes him all the time, while Gabi talks all the time. Fortunately, she was able to leave the vindictive war child from back then and only talks about it with Falco, if at all.
Levi accepts this and does not impose himself on her, he also has topics, that he would only have wanted to share with Hanji and Erwin and he would have given another person sympathy for his thoughts. But she is not here and she let him understand three years ago what she thought of his request. Or maybe she hadn't noticed his request because she had had one of her migraines at that time?
With the second option, he tries to calm himself down that she was not entirely in her right mind at the time. It would be easier for him to endure. Because he has to admit, had he been in her place with Hanji or Erwin's head in his arms, he would probably have reacted the same way.
Thoughtfully he listens to Gabi's chatter and Falco pushes him on a huge bridge in the direction of a huge bell clock that the residents of London call "Big Ben". When he saw this huge clock for the first time, he was overwhelmed by the view and he was able to forget his grief for a moment. But life has never been fair to him and his grief caught up with him in the end. Even his love for tea and his desire to open a tea shop with his third friend Onyankopon here in London cannot free him from his deep shit hole.
On the contrary, everything has gotten worse, he just can't take it anymore. He wants to put an end to it all today. He's just waiting for the right moment ...
The three pass a viewing platform. " Oi brats! Leave me here alone for a moment. I want to be alone with my shitty thoughts. Here you can both get an ice cream and we'll see you soon! Hurry up !!! ”
He gives the two of them a few shillings. Neither of the Marley children are suspicious of him because he behaves like that on a number of occasions.
When both children are out of reach, he is alone again with his carousel thought. You, wretched liar! You don't intend to wait for the two of them. Then stop your miserable life so no one sees your stinking corpse in the water, he thinks. He pulls himself on the boundary between the platform and beneath himself the deadly freedom.
It's easy, you monster. All you have to do is hang your torso upside down. Once the weight of your upper body is heavy enough, your stinking legs will be pulled along with you and then you can finish everything. He is already standing on the railing and leaning his upper body forward sharply.
He thinks one last time of Hanji and Erwin. I'll be with you in a moment, guys . He tries to calm himself down with the thought.
Then he thinks of Mikasa one last time, wishing he had been able to get to know her under different circumstances. He wishes he was the one to find her instead of Eren.
If he leaves this world now, he will never have a chance to see her again, no matter how smal the chance is. Tears of anger and despair come up in him.
NO! He just can't do it, at least until he gets a clear answer to his question from three years ago and he just can't close it with her. He pulls back from the railing and falls back onto his wheelchair. His leg hurts from exhaustion. He would like to give himself a little more time, there is still hope. It occurs to him that Armin contacted him eight weeks ago and that everyone wanted to go back to Paradis.
Levi had to cancel for a while because his leg still hasn't healed. She's still alive and that's enough for him in the end.
"Captain! We brought you an ice cream ”, Falco greets him. Both Marley children appear behind him.
He accepts the ice cream, “ take me to the shop. I still have something to do there ” ,he says thoughtfully.
“We'll help you, Captain!” Shouts Gabi enthusiastically.
His brats ..., he thinks reassured that he doesn't have to be all alone in this big, filthy city.
When they got to the shop, Onyankopon was already expecting the three of them, “It's good that you are here. Levi, we have to go through the orders again. So that everything runs smoothly for the opening next month. And you two, would you be so kind as to clean the big shop windows? The last owner didn't care and they are streaky and dirty. ”
Falco and Gabi are happy to be able to spend a lot of time with them, even though their parents live here in London.
“We'll do that!” Says Gabi.
Both of them spend the whole afternoon cleaning the glass windows, which proves to be stubborn.
“Did the previous owner even clean this place? It's disgusting! ”Gabi scolds in frustration.
“The old owner was sick and, as far as I know, couldn't do that anymore,” recalls Falco.
Both see the postman come by. Certainly he only brings the bills or permits from the office for the reopening of the store. Strangely, the messenger only has one letter with him this time ...
Gabi runs to the messenger and takes the letter. She reads the addressee: Captain L. Ackermann, sender: M. Ackermann, an unknown address on Paradis. I'M SORRY, WHAT?!
Gabi goes back into the shop with a trembling hand. “Falco, you won't believe where this letter come from?” Gabi says excitedly.
The Marley boy looks up from his job in frustration, “a letter. What is special about it? "
“It's from Paradis from Mikasa!” She says in a hushed tone. She holds the letter in the light in the hope that there is something treacherous in it.
This also arouses interest in the boy, but also recognizes what his girlfriend is doing right now, "Gabi, what you are doing is not right."
"What do you think what's in there? Maybe a love letter? Oh, I wish, it would be that way for the captain ... “, she says hopefully.
“Gabi, put the letter aside. We'll notice from the captain what kind of letter this is ... ", says Falco.
" That‘ s correct. He won't say anything about the letter, but his facial features all the more ”, Gabi points out,“ then we should watch him today. ”
She puts the letter on the counter and continues with her work.
After an hour, Onyankopon and the captain come back from the storeroom. Onyankopon sees the letter and at first assumes that it is a normal invoice , but then sees the personal details. He has to suppress a grin and passes it on to the addressee, " This is for you."
Captain Levi raises an eyebrow skeptically. When he looks at the letter, his heart leaps. It is his brat's personal details. His hand begins to shake, he breaks into a sweat like a nervous schoolboy, in Levi's case a street boy. He drives back to the tea kitchen at once, “Oi Onyankopon! I want to be alone Go ahead. I'll be right back."
Onyankopon nods knowingly to him. Apparently he is interpreting too much into the letter, thinks Levi.
I'm sure his brat would like to tell him that she's already married, possibly to Jean the Horse Face ... Ugh! But then this thought doesn’t make any sence, she could continue to ignore him.
Onyankopon joins the Marley children, who are now watching the captain closely.
„Aaaaw! The captain seems nervous ”, Gabi notes with a squeaky girl's voice.
"Gabi! Not so loud! He can also hear you, ”Falco says to her in a hushed voice.
Gabi just shrugs her shoulders and shows that she doesn't care.
“You two saw the letter?” Asks Onyankopon. Both children nod to him.
“I put paper and an ink pen on the counter. If it's a positive letter, he'll want to write her back. Let's watch him, ”says Onyankopon mischievously.
All three are waiting eagerly ...
Levi sits alone in the tea kitchen and struggles to open the letter. His fear is too great that something like a rejection will be in it. But why did she bother to write to him then? She could have continued to ignore him, right?
With a trembling, sweaty hand, he opens it and reads neatly written letters:
Dear Captain! (She writes , that I am DEAR ?!)
I've wanted to talk to you for so long and to apologize, that I left you without a word of goodbye . Armin is now helping me to write you this letter and I am grateful to him for it.
I hope , you are well in London and that your wounds will heal soon.
My life here on Paradis is quite simple and I live alone in my self-made home. Sometimes I just get angry with the heads of state from Paradis and Hizuru. (Levi has to grin at this and can roughly imagine it.)
I don't really have more to say about myself.
(Then the last sentence that stands out from all others):
PS: You are often on my mind.
Regards
Your Mikasa.
Levi has to read the letter twice and his eyes keep getting wet. Again and again he has to wipe the moisture from his eyes so that the others don't notice. He still can't believe that she wrote him this loving letter and that she had the courage to contact him on her own initiative. Well, Armin will have encouraged her in her decision as he knows him. But Hanji and Erwin would have done the same for him too. And there isn't a single word about Eren in it!
He'll have to write back to her right away, tonight! He drives out of his kitchen again and wants to get something to write about and drives to the tea room.
He sees paper and fountain pens waiting for him suspiciously.
DAMNED! He knows that he will betray himself to the others. But now he doesn't care what the others think of him and takes the writing material and can only do one "Mikasa wrote to me" to mumble the other three.
The three grin knowingly at him and leave him alone with the subject. He'll talk about it on his own when he feels the need.
Mikasa's letter saved him from his very dark thoughts today and he secretly thanks her for it. He senses that there is still hope for an old dog like him.
Levi has recognized for himself that he still has a job to do here in London and he takes time for her and also to give time for himself, what is to come. He can only guess it today and he smiles at it, but nobody sees it.
Wait for me, Mikasa! I promise you , that I will give you everything you hope and wish for. The old feelings of three years are beginning to germinate in him again and he feels a warmth rising within him that he was familiar with a very long time ago. Irritated, he thinks for a moment about why he has to think of this person now, but brushes that thought aside.
A few years later he will find out what this thought means and why it is so closely connected to Mikasa ...
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Berry’s Masterpost
♥️ A new and improved, mostly comprehensive version of my masterpost, to be used as a guide to my works and/or my blog ♥️
Tags to find/block posts: #berry’s fics, #berry’s games, #the witcher, #legend of korra, #osha violation, #bears, #berry cute in the berry queue
Asks/PMs: always welcome, whether we are mutuals or strangers. If you want to talk/ask about my blog/fics, or if you just want to chat!
Ask Games: I’m basically always down to play these, no matter how long ago I reblogged it, so please feel free to send an ask about anything. All the games I’ve participated in should be in #berry’s games
Fics: all available on my AO3, some available right here on tumblr. There’s a lot for the witcher, especially wlw Lambert/Aiden, but I’ve also branched out into writing for the Legend of Korra.
♥️ The Witcher ♥️
Request Fics
Kitten-Tossing: (Teen/959/No Archive Warnings Apply) Guxart discovers a new and efficient method for keeping his rowdy kittens entertained, all while developing their sense of balance and spatial awareness. (On Tumblr)
Waltzing Wolves: (Teen/1,049/No Archive Warnings Apply) Geralt has seen many, many things in his very, very long lifetime. He has never, as his partner Jaskier points out, champagne glass tipped just so, seen Agent Eskel dance a waltz. (On Tumblr)
Copy-Cat: (Mature/2,364/No Archive Warnings Apply) Keira thinks she’s rescuing a half-dead Cat for her boyfriend, only to realize she’s saved the wrong one. Oh well. (On Tumblr)
Grampa’s House: (General Audiences/1,945/No Archive Warnings Apply) Vesemir struggles to figure out what to do while watching his five year-old granddaughter for the weekend because he’s an old-ass man with old-ass man hobbies. Turns out she likes that just fine. (On Tumblr)
Two Cloaks, XXXL: (Explicit/1,376/No Archive Warnings Apply) Erland is determined to win the most difficult battle he's ever faced: getting Arnaghad to wear weather-appropriate clothing. No matter how much the big bastard insists he's fine without it. (On Tumblr)
2022 Witcher Summer Camp
With Her Own Two Hands: (Teen/2678/No Archive Warnings Apply) Aiden spends her winter building a safe, warm nest for her baby wolf, and doesn’t regret a single splinter. (On Tumblr)
Flint And Steel: (Teen/2848/No Archive Warnings Apply) Jaskier watches Geralt and Yennefer tear each other apart, and decides that, at the very least, Ciri shouldn’t have to put up with that shit. (On Tumblr)
The Art Of Threats: (Explicit/3433/No Archive Warnings Apply) Ivo hates the sun, and he hates being sweaty, but he hates the thought of a beardless Junod even more. Cue the filth. (On Tumblr)
Calm Before The Storm- (Explicit/4879/No Archive Warnings Apply) Arnaghad and Erland have a final confrontation before the end, but they both know they’re a tragedy in the making. (On Tumblr)
Half-Drowned Kitten- (Teen/1962/No Archive Warnings Apply) Aiden would have gotten herself killed chasing beautiful sirens, except Lambert is there to save her, and she falls in love. (On Tumblr)
Guxart’s Fables- (Teen/4350/No Archive Warnings Apply) Every night, Guxart reads a fable to a tangled pile of kittens, and on this one, he teaches them a slightly biased version of their history. (On Tumblr)
Laiden Gets Laid (Again and Again)
Sweeter Than Pride- (Explicit/2524/No Archive Warnings Apply) Aiden is so fucking proud of her baby wolf... and all she wants to do is take her completely apart, as low as it makes her feel sometimes.
Collars Of Many Kinds- (Explicit/1830/No Archive Warnings Apply) Aiden hates Lambert's armor, specifically the ugly, flaking, fucking hideous collar. Her baby wolf deserves better than that, and she's damn well gonna get it.
Curiosity Killed The Cat- (Explicit/5142/No Archive Warnings Apply) Lambert tries to get in some stress relief, and Aiden is very accidentally a peeping tom. It works out for both of them
Digging Graves —Crawling Out
No Grave- (Mature/2293/No Archive Warnings Apply) Jad Karadin kills Aiden and buries her six feet deep. It’s not gonna be enough to keep her from her from her baby wolf.
As A Shrike- (Explicit/8700/Graphic Descriptions of Violence & Major Character Death) One by one, Lambert hunts down Aiden’s killers, and absolutely nothing and no one can stop her
You’re Good To Me- (Mature/4371/No Archive Warnings Apply); Aiden crawls from her grave and gets help from an unexpected source. Lots of healing and re-learning how to witcher again.
♥️ Legend of Korra/Avatar the Last Airbender ♥️
His Clothes: (Teen/3,213/No Archive Warnings Apply) A newly-liberated P’li desperately needs something to wear, and Zaheer is more than happy to give her the clothes off his back. Too bad he’s kind of into it. (On Tumblr)
All Things End: (Teen/1,623/No Archive Warnings Apply) A re-write of Ghazan’s escape scene where he realizes his tattoos have faded along with his hope, just before Zaheer arrives and he kisses him on the mouth. (On Tumblr)
#berry's fics#berry's games#the witcher#legend of korra#lambert#witcher aiden#geralt#jaskier#yennefer#ciri#eskel#ivo#junod#arnaghad#erland#guxart#zaheer#p'li#ghazan#ming hua
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Hi Hi!!!! So I've been following your account for a little while now and I love every single comedy bomb you drop on what you write so I was wondering....
How would the boys react to their S/O who is usually reserved when at the lair, doing a full 180 when at April's? Like they could be April's roommate or something?....
Like crackhead energy, dishing out memes and vines and literally having a duel with Casey about leftovers in the fridge?... Yeah I know it's very specific 💀
I don't know.....the idea just popped into my head but I lack the creativity and comedy skills for that...so I was wondering if you could do something with this?.....
It's totally fine, if not 😁😁
This is... 100% me. I love this and I'm gonna pour my soul into it. Also I have started mentally referring to these as comedy bombs and I refuse to stop.
Also, I hope you don't mind that I wrote these in oneshot form instead of bullet points. It just made more sense for my brain.
TMNT Oneshots
The boys with a partner whose reserved at the lair but an absolute crack gremlin at home 🤣
Donatello
Donnie may have been a man of science, all logic and facts and numbers and things. But he absolutely believed that everyone had three separate faces, you were direct proof of that theory. While the purple terrapin had known you for nearly a year you’d only started dating a month ago and it shocked him that he was still uncovering new things about you. He loved it, sure, but it had a tendency to give him figurative whiplash.
He’d always known you to be calm and collected, maybe even a bit shy. He swore you’d explode if more than one person tried to talk to you at the same time. So it wasn’t an over exaggeration for him to say that your behavior at home nearly made him break his neck.
He was only there to help April fix a bug in her laptop and to confirm your next date, he was excited to see you since you’d had no contact in person for a week because of your schedules. Just lots of phone calls and exchanged text messages. You both missed each other like crazy and your roommate had neglected to inform you that your boyfriend was coming over.
Hers was already there and he was driving you up the wall, you’d never actually thought about committing a murder but Casey was pushing you very close to the edge of snapping. And he might as well have crane-kicked you off your cliff of patience and into the rushing river of “you little fucking shit I’m gonna piss on your grave” below. You hadn’t even heard Donnie come in through the window much less his conversation with April over her computer.
All you knew was that Casey had come parading into your room like a tyrant eating the leftovers in the fridge that you had specifically put your name on. That did it. Your eyes had skimmed over the top of your textbook to meet the asshole in front of you.
“Casey?”
He couldn’t speak through the mouthful he was trying to chew and grunted in pathetic response.
“Is that my cheeseburger?”
You’d never seen a living person imitate a pug’s facial structure so well, the man’s eyes bugged out of his head and he tossed the takeout box on your desk before turning and bolting out of your room. You followed about two steps behind with a bottle of shampoo in your hand. No, you weren’t entirely sure where you’d grabbed it from, all you knew was that it was your weapon. And it quickly became a very messy problem when it missed your target (Casey’s head) and slammed into the wall, exploding on impact.
You didn’t think you’d thrown it that hard.
“April April help help help helpppppppppppppp-'' The two on the couch had looked up during the chase throughout the apartment, Donnie was mostly curious at what Casey was screaming about. Not a lot usually made the guy make that noise. He was then distracted by April grabbing the laptop and passing it to him, she then clambered over his legs to sit behind him.
“YOU UGLY ASS CROISSANT! FUCKING PANINI HEAD- IT HAD MY NAME ON IT YOU DAFT AVACADO!”
Your boyfriend almost went vertical upon watching you tackle Casey to the floor and knee him in the groin. You shook the terrified man under you and slammed him a little harder into the rug.
“Touch my shit again and I’m gonna make the beaches of Normandy look like a goddamn family vacation.”
Then you climbed off of him and stood, brushing your disheveled t-shirt off with a huff. Donnie caught your attention and you raised your head to grin excitedly at him.
“Hi Dove! April didn’t tell me you were coming over,” you practically skipped over to the couch to peck him on the cheek, “I missed ya, are we still on for Saturday?”
He nodded in complete shock, his gaze flitting from you to Casey, who was still wheezing on the floor and clutching his dick.
“Uhhh yeah! Yeah, yep, Still good for Saturday. Uhm, completely unrelated question, where the hell did you learn to grapple like that?”
You shrugged absentmindedly, already walking to the hall closet to grab cleaning supplies for the puddle of shampoo in the walkway.
“Just kinda picked it up I guess? I’ve watched you guys train enough.”
Leonardo
See, Leo had always known that you were hiding something from him. Be it your true personality or some deep dark secret. He wasn’t really in a rush to find out, you’d tell him when you were ready. The leader enjoyed your quiet disposition anyways, you gave good advice and liked to meditate with him, what more could he ask for? What more could he want?
Well, maybe if you got along better with his family, although he supposed that wasn’t your fault, you always had been a bit shy. Even six months into your relationship with him, Leo only hoped that you’d warm up to his brothers eventually. You seemed to do alright with Splinter, that was a plus for the situation. It wasn’t that you were mean or impolite to the others, you were just… avoidant. Distant, quiet, whatever word you wanted to use. You just didn’t seem comfortable at the lair.
He was excited that April had asked to host a game night though, maybe you’d come out of your shell (haha, see what I did there?) and socialize, even for a little bit. They’d all shown up a few minutes early to make sure April didn’t need help with anything, she’d assured them that everything was handled and made sure to inform Leo that you would be back shortly with Casey from your snack run. Mikey had joked that you’d ditched the get together to avoid them but they all knew it ran the possibility of not being a joke.
You unlocked the door and held it open so Casey could get inside without tripping himself before entering yourself and kicking your shoes off. Leo looked up to meet your eyes and you sent him a wild grin, your entire face lit up with amusement.
“Hi babes! Are you ready to get your ass kicked at Monopoly?”
All the poor turtle could do was nod.
“Good. I did grab drinks by the way, April there should be a mixer in the cooler bag, Donnie there’s some of that lemon lime stuff that you said you wanted to try, Mikey, orange crush as usual, Raph I tried to go for Dr. Pepper but they were out so I figured that root beer was a safe second. And Leo they had a new boba flavor that you haven’t had yet so I grabbed one. If you don’t like it then you can have mine, I just have the peach royal.”
Beverages were tossed and they were lucky that their surprise didn’t throw off their catching skills. You and April shared a quick word in the kitchen as you took your coat off and ran a hand through your hair.
After some arguments team captains were decided and Donnie nearly had a heart attack when you picked him instead of Leo or either of your friends. He even went so far as to point at himself to make sure you weren’t joking. You declared that while you loved your boyfriend his morals were too strong to be competitive, Donnie’s were not, he said so himself.
They were all surprised that you’d remembered that conversation.
It wasn’t until halfway through the game that things started getting heated, you and Mikey were nearly jumping across the table at each other. And it visibly took all of your strength to not burst out laughing when he started yelling.
"YOU KNOW WHAT? THIS IS CHEATING! YOU'RE CHEATING! GET ON TOP OF THE FRIDGE!"
April and Casey were snorting into their arms as you got to your feet and walked towards the kitchen, making a poor attempt at climbing the appliance.
"THIS HOUSE IS A FUCKING NIGHTMARE!"
Raphael
Raph had always been under the impression that you were never really 100% yourself around him, he knew for a fact that you weren’t when you stayed over. He’d never seen someone so aggressively avoid someone, except himself of course. You were his partner of almost a year and it seemed like you were never going to let your true self shine. However you did seem to lighten up when you were alone with him, he supposed that was normal, but you may as well have been a pair of old earbuds that only work when you held them a certain way at the lair.
He honestly hadn’t expected that to change tonight, not given the text that Casey had sent him informing him of April’s recent breakup with whatever guy she’d been dating. So when he climbed in through the window and saw both you and Casey sitting on the floor in front of the bathroom he really didn’t think that the words out of your mouth would be-
“April you’ve got another twenty minutes of this then I’m ripping the door off the hinges!”
Casey shot you a look and you shrugged nonchalantly before getting to your feet and walking over to your confused boyfriend.
“Hey, sorry about this. Casey only texted you as a last resort if he needed someone to stop me from tearing the door off.”
Raph found that peculiar, “Uh, couldn’t he do it himself?”
The man in question looked up from his spot on the floor.
“Nah dude, they’re crazy. Last time I tried stopping them from doing something they nearly knocked my damn tooth out while screaming, and I quote, “If you put your hands on me I’m gonna fucking rip your face off” and quite frankly I don’t have the balls to test that.”
“No no dude, that’s valid. I wouldn’t either. Babe, why are you so-”
You raised an eyebrow at him over a glass of water, “Violent? I’m not Raph. These two just have little bitch feelings.”
He found it hard not to laugh at that and fifteen minutes later when you left his side to approach the door again it sent him reeling.
“This shit’s temporary April. You’ve got nice teeth and a fat ass, stuff your feelings down!”
Michelangelo
There would never be a time where Mikey wasn’t a prankster with you, it was just simply non-negotiable. You were cool with that and he was aware, he was also aware that no pranks were to be pulled at the lair. So he’d reign it in while you visited, just for a short while. But you’d never said anything about the apartment and Mikey was a creature of opportunity.
Unfortunately Leo talked him out of it and forced him not to pull anything while they visited. The leader was already on edge so when he walked in with the others following closely behind you were the first person to see him. Your eyes caught Mikey’s instantly and you might as well have been telepathic at that moment. But you took one look at Leo’s solid, angry face and seized your moment.
They weren’t at all ready for the scream.
“GET YOUR FUCKIN’ DOG BITCH!”
And they also weren’t ready for Mikey’s response of, “It don’t bite.”
And Leo was not ready for the pillow that got whipped at his face at incredibly high speed.
“YES IT DO-”
So when Leo finally realized that they were yelling at him his mood did not improve at all and in fact declined sharply into a pit of “oh fuck”. And that was how you ended up on Mikey’s shoulder getting dragged away from any sort of repercussion for your actions.
These got a little short near the end but I hope you like 'em and I hope I was able to capture what you had in mind! 😁
-Mars 🌠
#tmnt bayverse#tmnt headcanons#tmnt x reader#tmnt leonardo#tmnt raphael#tmnt donatello#tmnt michelangelo#writing blog#writing requests#ask box#ask response
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More Than Meets the Eye #33: In Which I Write the Word ‘Quantum‘ 19 Times
Dang, I forgot what happened at the end of the last issue. It was pretty important, too, but I don’t have time to reread. Maybe the establishing shot can help me out?
Oh, that’s right, Rewind happened!
Everyone’s pretty jazzed that Rewind is here, non-exploded, and supposedly alive. Megatron carries this ridiculously small man over to a table, while Skids is busy admonishing Nightbeat for trying to put the pieces of this mystery together.
That’s one of the two first canonically, openly gay Transformers, Megatron. You bet your ass he’s important.
Nightbeat’s dragged Nautica over to look at that poster for Crosscut’s play they saw last issue. Together, they discover something interesting, and it’s not that Nightbeat’s chin has elongated to the point of absurdity. On this future ship, the play was completed and produced a mere few weeks after the initial launch of the Lost Light.
While this is going on, Rewind wakes up and asks Skids what the hell is going on. Skids, likely not wanting to poke at farm-fresh trauma, glosses over the fact that everyone on this ship was violently murdered, and that they found Rewind blacked out inside the hollowed torso of his brother-in-law.
…This is a dark story line.
You see, the joke here is that “Dark Cybertron” sucked major chrome.
Megatron reminds everyone that they’re still in grave danger every moment they stay aboard this ship, but Skids is more concerned with Rewind’s mental health. Which is sweet, but maybe not the thing to prioritize in such a precarious situation.
Rewind takes the fact that Megatron is an Autobot now pretty friggin’ well, as well as the introduction of gender into his species. That is, until Nightbeat, the king of social graces, saunters up to the scene to ask Rewind what the hell happened to the ship. He does get his answers, despite Rewind being horrified to the point of speechlessness.
Over at the hole in the wall, Nautica and Riptide are taking a gander at the quantum drums, which house the quantum foam for the quantum engines so quantum jumps can happen.
As Nautica explains the process by which quantum travel works, she realizes that the answer to what happened to everyone who disappeared was right in front of them this whole time.
Quantum, quantum, quantum- doesn’t even sound like a word anymore, does it?
The data slug Rewind made corroborates this theory, showing a series of events that definitely didn’t happen to the Lost Light we’ve been following throughout this story so far. The data slug contains this Rewind’s version of dead Rewind’s “Little Victories”, the travelogue that was never completed, where the question “are you happy?” revealed just how emotionally unhealthy most of the crew is. I’d like to imagine this Rewind’s film is called “Small Achievements”, or perhaps “Dear Fucking Lord, We’ve Been on this Trip for Three Hours and the Captain Has Been Killed by a Goddamned Soul-Vampire”, or maybe even “Where the FUCK is Our Therapist”.
The DJD came into the equation by way of someone having led them to the Lost Light. We get a flashback panel of the gorefest, in which Tarn appears to have learned how to fly, given the angle he’s coming from.
Because Rewind’s big thing in this series is being the guy who records stuff, the DJD take the opportunity to make some movies of their visit to the space yacht.
James, why do you keep getting Rewind involved with snuff films? I’m starting to get concerned.
Now, the thing about Rewind is that he’s almost always accompanied by his other half. Where is Chromedome, anyway?
He’s dead, that’s where.
Turns out, when you tell the DJD that you won’t do the thing they want you to do, they have a habit of doing nasty things in retaliation. Chromedome got stabbed in the friggin’ visor with his own finger needles, because Vos enjoys ironic deaths, I suppose. There’s some other stuff that’s implied to have happened, but we’ll get to that once we learn a little more about the DJD themselves.
While Rewind recounts the grisly tale of his husband’s demise, Riptide notes that the quantum foam has begun to spread at a remarkable rate. This is a bad thing, because that shit can and will explode, given half the chance, and this wreck is floating right above a potentially-inhabited planet.
Though I could have sworn we established that this planet was a Smartplanet, and therefore very much populated by students and staff. I don’t know. Maybe we conveniently forgot that, so we could make this a learning moment for Megatron.
Jiminy Christmas, Megs, do you even listen to yourself?
Skids, who has had a very long day of finding corpses and learning about quantum theory, snaps at Megatron, telling him that in order to actually be an Autobot, you have to have a little frickin’ compassion for those outside of your peer group.
Which is sort of contradictory to the Aequitas trials, the Killswitch debacle, the POW situation back on Cybertron, and whatever the fuck Prowl’s whole deal is, but maybe Skids is speaking about his own, personal relationship with being an Autobot. Hopefully so, otherwise he needs a class on critical thinking, STAT.
Never mind all of that though, because the problem just got a lot worse- the quantum foam has expanded to a point where any holes in the stuff are too small for the Rod Pod to get through. We’re going to have to get creative if we want to save the day.
Luckily, we’ve got a quantum duplicate of just about the tiniest little dude in the franchise here to do the job. Now we just need another, equally tiny little man, so the quantum drums can be shut off at the same time. Nautica commits more microaggressions, and this gives Getaway inspiration for a witty quip, which in turn gives Skids a brilliant idea.
The gang heads down to Brainstorm’s lab, to look for the mass displacement gun that was used for treating Ultra Magnus’s nanocon infestation back in the 2012 Annual. While they search, Nautica explains just why the hell the Lost Light disappeared in the first place. You see, quantum duplication acts on the Cain Instinct— it’s fine, as long as the duplicates don’t perceive each other. However, the moment contact is made, it says “oh man, guess I’m gonna have to end you” to one of the duplicates. The contact in this case happened when the Coffin Rodimus was brought aboard the ship.
Anything that wasn’t aboard the Lost Light at the point of the takeoff/explosion was never duplicated, and thus wasn’t erased from reality once shit started going to hell. This is why the Rod Pod is still around, and why the remaining cast are— well, the remaining cast.
While this conversation is going on, Nautica and Nightbeat uncover yet another dead body; it’s Brainstorm, and he’s a little underdressed.
…Someone run a paternity test, I think Cyclonus might be the father.
Also, Brainstorm’s a double agent.
Fucked up.
Getaway is furious that a Decepticon has been living on the same ship as him for the last six months, right under his proverbial nose. Even Megatron’s surprised, stating that Brainstorm isn’t usually who the recruiters aim for.
So, no mass displacement gun, and now they’re aware of the fact that there’s a traitor on the ship who’s had access to a LOT of weapon tech. It’s at this point that Megatron decides to stop lying by omission and tells everyone that he can mass-displace, since he used to turn into a handgun.
Smashcut to Megatron and Rewind floating out in space, the former now not much taller than the latter, as they traverse the web of quantum foam to get to the drums. Nautica instructs them from the Rod Pod. If this works, anything produced or connected to the quantum engine will be neutralized, and maybe we’ll even get the other Lost Light back! YAAAAAY!!!
Y’all really let this man go out there to fuckin’ kill himself for the greater good, didn’t you?
Rewind is honestly pretty chill with ceasing to be, seeing as he watched 200/+ people die today, including his long-time spouse.
Jesus. I’d say get him a therapist, but in order to do that, we’re going to have to wipe him off the map anyway.
Rewind asks Megatron if the Chromedome that isn’t his and his duplicate are still together. And I mean…
Luckily, Megatron has the good sense to lie.
With that, they flip the switches, and deactivate the drums.
And that’s a series wrap on Rewind! Congrats to Mr. James Roberts for the esteemed honor of burying the same gay twice!
Later on, everyone is back inside the Rod Pod, as their disappeared shipmates return from being nonexistent. Chromedome pops back in, and Skids is on him like a shark, telling him to go on the roof. Skids doesn’t even try to explain why. Which, fair. How the hell do you explain to someone that their dead husband’s quantum duplicate survived both a terrorist splinter cell attack, and the laws of quantum sci-fi bullshit crashing down on his tiny, tiny body, and that he’s right there on the roof waiting for them?
Welp, there goes the Chromedome/Dominus endgame. Shame, that.
Looks like Chromedome finally hit the threshold for having earned Roberts’ pity, and won’t be directly targeted by the plot for a little while. This isn’t something you see very often, so let’s really soak this in.
…Someone had to have told Rewind what happened to the other Rewind, right? I wonder what that conversation was like.
Back inside the ship, Blaster gets word that the Lost Light has reappeared. As they navigate towards it, Megatron requests that an encrypted call be made to Rodimus, to discuss the Brainstorm problem.
In the interim, Ravage is offered the opportunity to be a part of the crew, so he doesn’t have to keep skulking around in the shadows. We don’t get an answer from him, as our focus shifts over to Nightbeat and Nautica.
Nightbeaaaaaaaaaat, stop stating the themes of the comic verbatim! People are going to start thinking you’re a shonen anime protagonist!
Nightbeat’s somehow managed to keep ahold of the briefcase that they found on the other Lost Light. Unless Brainstorm’s boyfriend is in there, I don’t think this one was the work of Huey Lewis and the News’ hit single from the Back to the Future soundtrack.
Over on the Lost Light, specifically in Swerve’s, Brainstorm’s making his way through the crowd, briefcase held gentle like hamburger as he goes. He makes it to the bar, where Atomizer tells him he can’t have his briefcase in here. Brainstorm has what most would accept to be a healthy response to being told “no.”
It’s what I would do.
#transformers#jro#MTMTE#slaughterhouse#issue 33#maccadam#Hannzreads#text post#long post#comic script writing
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I literally found this blog recently and it’s awesome! But for your alternative ending, I was wondering what would everyone’s reactions be of Marinette missing for 5 months, to fighting her?
I honestly wasn’t really sure what this ask was asking for. I ended up writing their feelings about her going missing and seeing her for the first time in months. Sorry if this wasn’t what you wanted :(
(Also, thank you!!)
First part
Second part
Next part
@solangelo252 asked to be tagged
Everyone ready? Let’s go!
Dick
Dick is the one who has to stay strong for the family. He’s always been aware of that. It’s fitting that the guy whose biological family died due to their lack of safety net as trapeze artists ended up being the emotional safety net for his adoptive family. He is always there with his calm smiles, his bad puns, his warm hugs.
… that being said, who was to be his safety net? Marinette had served that purpose as of late; many hours had been spent in a rented out gymnasium, stretching and venting about their problems. It was the closest he’d come to a give-and-take relationship emotionally since his parents had been alive.
But now Marinette was missing. How was he supposed to vent about his anxieties about the fact that she was missing when she wasn’t there to vent to? Could he somehow vent to himself?
No. But he had to stay strong. His family needed him to. Without the Grayson safety net, his family would fall into early graves yet again.
So, he’d pull on that perfect smile of his and get to work. He’d force everyone to eat and sleep, he’d go out on patrols and make sure no one broke The Rule or too many bones, he’d make sure they didn’t close themselves off emotionally, he’d remind them they weren’t at fault, he’d listen to their problems, give them advice, hug them, help them, help them help them helpthemhelpthemhelpthem --.
~
Days stretched endlessly but weeks whizzed by.
And then Marinette was there.
His eyes had landed on her and he almost couldn’t believe it. Maybe he’d finally snapped. He’d held in his emotions, his grief and his guilt and his anger, and he’d held them in too long. And now he was hallucinating her. Now his mind had created a new her.
Maybe he actually could vent to himself now.
But then he’d glanced at everyone else and found that they’d stopped walking, too. That their eyes were still glued on that one spot. That they could see her and she was there. She was really there.
Emotions bubbled in his throat and tears stung his eyes and she was there.
“Mari?” His broken voice broke through the silence.
She brought a hand up to rest over her heart, almost as if she wasn’t quite sure he was talking to her despite him using her name.
Jason spoke next. “Is that really you?”
“Maybe,” she’d said, a bitter smile stretching across her face.
But Dick didn’t care about the warning signs, about the new demeanor, about anything because she was THERE.
A hand grabbed the back of his shirt. Held him back. He hadn’t even realized he’d been moving towards her, but that didn’t matter to him. Because now he couldn’t reach her.
His gaze fell on Tim and his brother had better have a good explanation.
“You’re pale,” Tim pointed out, blue eyes never leaving hers.
She giggled a little, but it was a broken sound. It was the kind of laugh a person made when they were trying their hardest not to cry.
“Yeah. Lack of sunlight and chemical baths do that.”
Tim’s grip on his shirt had lessened but it wasn’t necessary at all anymore. Instead, an icy hand clutched his heart and held him there.
Because now he could take in the chill in the room despite the roaring fire under where Marinette had perched herself. The way her eyes were now a dull blue instead of the almost unnaturally bright shade they usually were.
He hadn’t been around to be her safety net, and now the Marinette he knew was dead and gone. He was staring at what was essentially Marinette’s corpse. She even had the pale, bloodless skin of one.
He’d failed her, and he had already learned that there’s nothing that can be done when someone’s already hit the ground.
Jason
It was his job to keep her safe, and yet he couldn’t do that. She’d been captured by the Rogues. It was possible she’d never come back. If she did come back she wouldn’t ever be the same.
And it was his fault.
He should have tried harder to get her to stop. Made her take a break when she’d accidentally killed that man in the convenience store. He’d killed before, he’d KNOWN how that would affect a person. He’d seen how distracted she’d been the previous few days, seen the cracks. He should have seen this coming. He should have benched her when he’d had the chance.
And now his protege -- his SISTER -- had been captured by the Rogues and who knew what kind of horrors she was facing at that moment.
Because they weren’t going to kill her. The Rogues were never that merciful, and especially not when they’d been slighted.
Marinette had betrayed them, had been sent in to pretend to be their friend and gather information and sabotage some plans. Rogues were many things, but they weren’t ones to fake being friends. They all knew their real standings with each other, their real opinions of each other, for good and for bad. No, to them, she was a heartless monster.
And they were going to make sure she paid dearly.
~
“Is that really you?” He asked, though he knew what the answer would be. There was no way she could still be the same her after what she must have endured.
And she’d said “Maybe”.
And, though he’d expected it, the confirmation and the way her voice had cracked just slightly on the word had made it all the more real.
“You’re pale,” Tim pointed out.
Oh god, he was right. She looked so much like…
“Yeah. Lack of sunlight and chemical baths do that.”
Jason’s heart clenched at the words ‘chemical baths’. Because he knew what that meant. He may not have been there for when Tim had become Joker Jr., but he hadn’t needed to be in order to know just how completely fucked she had to be. He’d heard about the weeks of torture he’d endured before Batman and Batgirl had found it. Seen the way his younger brother still tensed slightly upon seeing Joker or Harley.
Five months. Marinette hadn’t been gone for a few weeks like he had. She’d been gone for five months. If that was what he was like in less than a month, then what about her?
He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and never let go, to never let HER go again, to make sure she’d never come to harm.
But one thing was stopping him.
Because he remembered what Joker Jr. had been created to do. What she must have been forced to do.
And he could see how much she hated it. In the lines in her forehead, in the slump of her shoulders, in the sad smile playing across her lips.
But she was doing it. She felt like she had to do it thanks to whatever she’d endured.
She wasn’t meant for murder. She especially wouldn’t do well with murdering someone she had once cared for. Whatever pieces of her old self that remained would crumble to dust until she would be completely unrecognizable. Completely broken.
He’d failed her, she’d been hurt, and he was going to have to hurt her more in order to keep her from hurting herself.
Tim
You’d think that it would be easy to figure out where she was. After all, these were the biggest Rogues in Gotham. Surely, they couldn’t hide out for long without people noticing them.
But no.
Nothing. Common henchmen were out of jobs, competitors were encroaching on their territories, allies called for help… and yet they refused to make an appearance. It seemed the Rogues had just grabbed Marinette and gone off-world.
A painful memory kept replaying in his mind. Taunting him.
The two of them had been sitting on a park bench on one of their many not-exactly-a-date-but-yeah-it’s-basically-a-date things that they loved to go on.
He remembered her in the Red Robin themed hoodie. The brilliant smile she’d given him. The twinkle in her eyes. The teasing lilt to her voice as she explained why he was her favorite hero:
‘Of course! He’s super smart! I mean, I know Batman is supposed to be the greatest detective of all time or whatever but, considering ages and experience, I think that Red Robin is probably going to have him beat in… I don’t know, a few years?’
She’d been laying it on thick, he knew, she’d been aware of his identity by then and was doing it to fluster him… but he could tell she wasn’t lying. Even if that was more blunt than she tended to be, it was still what she really thought of him.
The memory used to make him blush. Now, it hurt.
He downed his third cup of coffee at the hour, eyes locked on the screen in front of him. There had to be SOMETHING. There was always something.
And, yet, there wasn’t. The place she’d been taken had clearly been prepped for her kidnapping. There was hardly any blood anywhere outside of a bit on the wall where she must have hit it, someone must have set up a tarp or something. The only things they could find were the broken pieces of her comm and two ears. Forensics confirmed they were hers; the earrings they normally bore were missing, but they could hardly care about that when the first -- and likely tamest -- thing they’d done was cut off her ears.
That was it. There were footprints, sure, but they got lost in the millions of footprints on the streets of Gotham.
He threw his empty mug across the cave, but when it splintered on the ground he didn’t feel any better. It didn’t help him find her.
~
The moment his eyes landed on her, he knew.
He could recognize that look anywhere. Bleached-white skin, cherry-red lips… her usual pigtails had been raised in an imitation of Harley’s signature look...
Just like Tim had been Joker Jr., she was now Harley Jr.
Part of him wanted to assure her that she would be fine, that he was living proof that she would be okay again eventually. The other part knew that it was a lie, that she, just like him, would likely never be fully ‘okay’ ever again.
He blinked away the tears threatening to spill over.
He should not have allowed Dick to make him sleep, should have widened the scope of his search, he should have simply done so much more than he had.
No mystery was completely unsolvable. He had to have missed something.
He’d failed her, and now she was paying the price for his shortcomings.
Damian
Mother had taught him that relationships were a liability. They made you weak. They made you lose.
Father and Richard had taught him that relationships were tricky, but they were worth having.
But, if relationships were worth having, why did they cause him so much pain?
First Father had died. Then Richard had ‘died’.
Those had been temporary, at least. He had started to have difficulty feeling sad when people died. There had been three deaths in the family since he’d joined including his own, and they always came back within a few months. It had started to feel like the Wayne family was untouchable.
Then Alfred had been killed brutally by Bane. Even now, years later, he had yet to make a miraculous reappearance.
So, no, they weren’t untouchable.
They were assuming she was alive, that the Rogues were keeping her around for some big thing. But, as time stretched on with no progress or proof that she was even alive, he started to lose hope. Why were they so quiet? What were they planning? Had those plans gone awry? The Rogues could never match him on impulse control, so something might have happened…
He told himself it didn’t matter if she was alright or not. He knew it was a lie.
Despite their rocky start, he’d found himself attaching to her far faster than he should have. He was regretting it now. Maybe he should have put a distance between them, maybe then this wouldn’t have hurt so much.
It didn’t help that he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her. It was the little things that seemed to hurt the most. The smell of coffee or baked goods, the place where she’d scratched her initials into a chair to claim it as hers, even the color red...
It was making it hard, if he were to be honest, to fight properly. He was constantly distracted. His mother had been right, his attachment to her was making him weak.
Not to mention the ring on his finger... He couldn’t bring himself to transform, not without his partner. Part of him wanted to tear it off his finger, to toss it off a pier and get rid of the constant reminder that she was gone, but he couldn’t.
It was all he had left of her, after all.
~
“Is that really you?”
“Maybe.”
No. The answer was no. He could see it in her eyes. Whoever was in front of them, they weren’t Marinette anymore. Not really.
“You’re pale.”
“Yeah. Lack of sunlight and chemical baths tend to do that.”
He clenched his fists tightly. The ring dug into his skin, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
After all, he wasn’t stupid. He was aware of what had happened to Drake during his tenure as Robin. He knew what he’d been forced to do, and he was sure she was there to finish the job.
He readied himself for a fight.
He’d failed her, yes, but he couldn’t afford to lose another person.
#marinette dupain cheng#ladybug#maribat#alternate ending#alternative ending#shit's been Happening in my life recently so this fic may get updated again soon oof#joker#harley quinn#harley quinzel#tim drake#red robin#timinette#dick grayson#nightwing#jason todd#red hood#damian wayne#robin
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88. I dropped my watch in an open grave, jumped in to get it, and while you were visiting your dead grandmother, you saw me climbing out of the grave (credit to @enchantedcass)
Indruck, sfw or nsfw, please!
Here it is! This is technically SFW, though there's some discussion of sex and a bit of steaminess at the end.
“Here, these are fresh.” Indrid sets the wildflowers on the small, stone marker, so covered with moss and worn with age that no one can read it. He only knows where to find her because he watched from the Barrens as she was put in the ground.
Temperance Leeds. His grandmother, the one who narrowly avoided accusations of witchcraft, the only human who ever set foot deep enough in the trees to bring him food, to drape blankets over his shaking shoulders. She never forgot him, and he shall return the favor as long as he lives.
There’s a thump of earth behind him and he whirls; it’s midnight in a graveyard, who could possibly be here? The ghosthunters usually wait for darker nights to come. In his periphery, a hand rises from an open grave.
Great, if the dead rise he’ll probably be blamed for that too.
“Fuck” A young man pulls himself from the grave, staring at his cell phone, “c’mon, please don’t be fuckin cracked.” Light illuminates his face and sighs, “thank fuckin christ.”
The light disappears and he blinks, eyes adjusting to the dark. Indrid, too caught up in working out why he’s in the ground, hasn’t bothered to hide as he should. The human notices.
“Uh. I. Uh. Dropped my phone checkin the time. I, uh, definitely wasn’t smokin in the off limits, uh, fuck, graveyard I, uh, I fuck, promise I’ll clean up my beer bottles I mean, uh, fuck.” He scratches the back of his neck, “please don’t call the cops?”
“Can you see me?” Indrid cocks his head.
“Yeah?”
“And you are worried about me alerting the police?”
“I mean, guess we’re both breakin the rules but I kinda figured you were staff here because of the clothes.” He gestures to the ensemble Indrid cobbled together from clothes lines.
Indrid stands, stretches his wings, flicks his tail and watches the human slowly notice the color of his eyes and the outline of his horns.
“Fuck. Look, man, whatever you are, I swear I won’t tell, I’m just tryin to keep busy, please, my folks are already worried about me-”
“I’m not going to harm you.” Lightning cracks through the sky, flashing his shadow across the frightened human, “I just wanted you to see me clearly.”
Rain patters on the leather of his wings. The man looks up at the sky, face seeming even younger as it fills with resignation. Indrid recognizes it’s source.
“You have nowhere to go, do you?”
“No. I, uh, decided I wanted to get outta town and never come back, made it as far as here before I ran outta money.”
Indrid offers his hand, watches the man’s face zero in on the claws, “You may spend the night with me, if you wish. My home is a ways into the woods, but it is dry and warm.”
“Okay.” The young man replies softly, letting Indrid help him up as the dirt turns to mud. Indrid shelters him as best he can with a wing until they reach the cottage. Indrid kneels by the fireplace, lumps kindling into a pile as the young man sets his backpack on a chair.
“Nice place. Gotta admit I was expectin somethin more dilapidated. On account of the whole, uh, y’know.” He gestures to Indrid’s horns and cloven feet.
“It was much like you expected, once upon a time. But a human named Arlo Thacker took pity on me and helped me build it with the aid of a few friends. There.” The fire flickers merrily, “that should keep us warm. You may--ah, what are you doing?”
The young man has removed his jacket and shirt, revealing what Indrid recognizes from human magazines as a sports bra. His hands are now on the fly of his jeans.
“You said I was supposed to, uh, spend the night with you?”
“Yes, in that you may sleep here to be safe from the weather and any who might wish you harm. Not so that you may keep me warm. So to speak.”
“You’re not gonna fuck me?”
Indrid flicks his tail, surprised, “You would offer yourself to me, looking like this?”
The man nods in a way that suggests he’s run a calculus in his head and decided Indrid’s desire was less abhorrent than some other option. Indrid crosses the small living room, bringing them face to face. He reaches out a hand, runs his claws through black hair until the human closes his eyes. Then his hand slides to cup his cheek, one nail tracing fond little shapes on the skin as the man sighs. Against his better judgement, he tilts his head down to nose the dark locks; smoke lingers there, just as alcohol hangs on his breath. He’s so warm, so willing and so very soft. Indrid wants nothing more than to undress him further, carry him to his cozy bedroom and discover what sounds come when he fits their bodies together.
“What’s your name?”
“Duck. It’s a nickname.”
“A charming one. But no, Duck, I will not take such advantage of you. I may be called a devil, but I do not believe in making one trade their body for basic kindness. Come along, the bedroom will allow you more privacy.”
“Thanks.” Duck sways, and Indrid senses a weariness he’s not certain a good nights rest will fix. Tomorrow he will be sure to be gone when Duck awakens, leaving his dry clothes and a map back to town outside his door so that he can do what Indrid can dare to; leave the Barrens and find a life waiting for him in the world beyond.
-----------------------------------------------------------
There are some days when Duck thinks his encounter in the woods was a dream. The hand-drawn map he keeps folded among his books tells him otherwise.
He’d come home after that night, made his peace with Kepler for a few years more, and often awoke from dreams where he was pushing through brush in pursuit of a strange shadow. He never cites these as a reason for his taking a job at a state forest in New Jersey that includes the Barrens.
Now, he’s decided to upgrade from his apartment to a house in the woods that’s been listed for over two years and is a goddamn steal because of that.
“As you can see, there’s another residence across the clearing; that’s why the company that built this lovely dwelling was able to do so. They intended to build a nice little community here.”
“The fact that ain’t happened got anythin to do with the reason I gotta stay the night before I make an offer?”
Ned’s smile falters, “Indeed, dear boy. I like you, so I’ll be forthcoming; we’ve never seen anyone in the other house. But they have most certainly seen us.”
Duck settles in for an uneventful afternoon and evening, reads his book and considers whether he could fit some windowboxes on the house for garden space. It’s not until it’s pitch black outside that it starts; footsteps on the roof, followed shortly by red eyes peering in through the living room window.
He opens the front door, the undergrowth rustling hurriedly to his left.
“Uh, hey there. You may not remember me but, uh, we’ve actually met before. About ten years ago. You uh, you let me stay the night?”
Only some crickets, unaware of the tension in the air, reply to him. Then the bushes grow two, ruby red flowers.
“Duck?”
“Yep. Y’know, you never told me your name. If we’re gonna be neighbors, feels like I oughta know what to call you.”
A shadow moves from the trees, stopping when it reaches the light spilling from the windows. He’s as Duck remembers him; short horns sprouting from a mop of silver hair, claws on his fingers and black wings folded on his back. His skin is a swirl of ashy grey and ember red. And his face, while striking, is human. That was the part that always tripped Duck up; the Jersey Devil was always drawn with a goat or horse face, making him question whether that’s who he met all those years ago.
“Indrid. My name is Indrid.”
“Nice to see you again, Indrid.”
The other man smiles, and Duck knows what will replace the mad hunt through the brush in his dreams, “Likewise.”
-------------------------------------------------
“You know, she had three more children after me. None of them suffered the same curse.” Indrid kicks idly at the long decayed remains of his family home. Their nightly walk brough them close to it this time around, and Duck had been curious. His interest is never prurient or morbid; Duck wants to get to know Indrid, not his legend.
“That fuckin sucks.”
Indrid chuckles, “I do enjoy how you put things so plainly.”
“I’m serious, what kind of folks put their kid out when it’s a baby? I mean, mine weren't always the fuckin parents of the year but at least they understood lookin after me was part of the deal.”
“It was a different time.”
“Fine, but I’m still judgin the hell outta them.”
Indrid looks fondly down at the human, “That’s as fair a fate for them as any.”
---------------------------------------
“It don’t weird you out?” Juno indicates Indrid’s house from where she and Duck are sitting on his front porch. The twin Adirondack chairs are a new addition, as the warmer months mean he and Indrid spend ample time trying to see the stars through the treetops.
“Nah. Indrid’s a real good neighbor when he’s around. He’s uh, from an old family so he don’t gotta work. Part of why he keeps such weird hours.” Duck wishes he could introduce them; it’d be nice for the three of them to have dinner before Juno heads south again. But Indrid has several centuries of shitty human encounters that dig under his skin like splinters, and Duck will never push him to ignore that pain. Besides, there will be other visits.
The summer and fall pass in much the same ways last winter and spring did. Duck works in the park, visits friends in town, runs errands, and generally goes about all the mundane moments that make up a life. Then he spends his evenings in one of the two cottages, or walking alongside Indrid on long-overgrown pathways.
The hardest part of it all is not mentioning Indrid in every single conversation; Duck is already tempting disaster being unable to lie and the neighbor of a cryptid. He doesn’t want to also drive his friends up the wall talking about said cryptids art, or his laugh, or the little herb garden Duck is helping him grow.
They’re in the stretch of days between Christmas and New Year, and Indrid has just finished opening the gift Duck brought him; a thick, soft sweater that Duck stitched a “I” into the front of along with a few little pine tree patches. Indrid smiles at him and notices that Duck’s sweater is done in a similar fashion (in fact, everyone in the Newton family wears one like this). The grin turns bashful and Indrid rubs his cheek against the fabric.
“Thank you, Duck. I, ah, I’m sorry I do not have anything to give you. Holidays are not my strong suit.”
“Just gettin to see you is enough.” Duck stands to refill his tea, Indrid’s gaze caressing his back as he moves through the room. He almost hadn’t gone home, had offered to stay and keep Indrid company. But his friend insisted, reminding him that while it felt odd to be without each other, they both had spent plenty of time apart and been fine. All the same, when he got home yesterday Indrid was knocking on his door before he even put his bag down.
Duck didn’t mind at all. No more than he minds when Indrid sleeps with his head in his lap or strokes his hair while they read on the couch.
The cryptid stokes the fire as the snow gives way to sleet, streaking the windows with icy drops.
“Goodness, what a frigid night.”
“No kiddin.” Duck sets his mug down, turns just as Indrid gets to his feet, “can’t say I mind, kinda reminds me of the night we met.”
The colors of Indrid’s skin make a blush difficult to spot, but Duck’s learned which dip of his head and quirk of his lip means it’s there.
“‘Drid? Did you ever think about that night? Because I did. I, uh, I do.”
“Yes.” Indrid’s tail twitches.
“What do you think about?”
“I, ah, I...you first.”
Duck crosses the creaking floorboards, looking up into red eyes, “I think about how safe it felt when you brought me here. How when I woke up, I felt like this was some kinda weird sign, that I needed to rethink some things and that’s how come I went home, which turned out to be a good call. And” he smirks, “I think about how I was drunk and desperate enough to ask the fuckin Jersey Devil if he was gonna fuck me.”
Indrid blushes once more, studies the ground as Duck touches his shoulder, “I must say that is the part that dominated most of my thoughts. Not right away; for the first few weeks when I thought of you I only hoped you were alright. Then I would let myself imagine that I had been devilish indeed.”
Gently, Duck raises Indrid’s hand and cradles his cheek with it as they did that night, “What would you have done, devil of mine?”
A snicker, “I will answer that only if you tell me whether you are angling for the demonstration that I think you are.”
“Damn right.” He closes his eyes, heart swelling and skin prickling as Indrid steps closer and nuzzles the top of his head.
“I would have asked if you were tired of running. If you wanted a home. And would you like to make it here, so that we could keep each other company. I know in my heart this would have been a selfish offer. I am glad I did not make it, did not trap you here, resign you to a fate that was not what you would have chosen freely.”
“I’m pretty fuckin free these days.”
“And that all on it’s own fills me with joy. But yes, there were nights where I wished I’d been selfish.”
Duck tips his head up, brushing their noses together, “Say you made that offer and I accepted. What then?”
Indrid cups his face with both hands. The kiss is chaste, Indrid sighing against his lips as he twines his claws in his hair. Duck wraps his arms around his waist, lightly teasing the edge of one wing.
“Then” Indrid murmurs, “I’d carry you to bed.”
“Yeah, that part woulda been easier when I was seventeEEN” he laughs as Indrid scoops him into a bridal carry with ease. He’s never been in Indrid’s bed, so he giggles again when he discovers it’s ten times squishier than his own. The cryptid sinks onto it with him, guiding him so they’re face to face on their sides.
“May I undress you?”
“Knock yourself out, darlin.” Affection deep and warm as a thermal spring wells up in him as Indrid carefully removes his sweater and shirt before dainty setting his claws to work on his fly. When Duck is down to his boxers, hunger enters Indrid’s eyes for the first time.
“Oh you are divine.” One hand strokes his leg, pausing at the crease of his thigh each time it reaches there. The other curves along his belly up to his chest before caressing his face, the black claws making his skin seem oddly pale and very fragile in comparison.
Duck touches the hem of Indrid’s shirt and the cryptid freezes.
“‘Drid? Is this okay?”
“Do you...truly wish to see me unclothed?”
Duck surges forward to kiss him as he rucks up his shirt, the movement a sufficient answer for Indrid to raise his arms and let him pull the sweater and battered shirt beneath it away. His skin here is the same swirl of colors as the rest of him, but there’s a dusting of peach fuzz fur across it. It’s delightful under Duck’s tongue, though the little keen of pleasure from Indrid is even better.
“It’s strange” Indrid traces hearts and zig-zags with his claws along Duck’s sides as the human continues kissing his chest and neck, “I thought that seeing you like this would so overwhelm me with need that I’d beg to have you this instant. But it seems I feel much the same way I did in my fantasies of that night.”
“Oh” Duck reaches up to toy with the base of a horn and Indrid groans happily before continuing.
“Had you stayed, knowing you were now mine, I’d have taken my time. Nestled you under the blankets, opened you up on my tongue until you were weak from pleasure. That way it would be easy to take you when I was ready. Perhaps on your back, so you had me to hold onto if you needed. Or on your belly, so you would be even more sheltered from the cold, cruel world by my body and wings. And I’d stay there for hours, make up for decade after decade of touch starvation by glutting myself on your young, willing body.”
“Holy fuck, ‘Drid.” Duck pulls him down into a kiss, “christ that’s a fuckin good image.”
“Mmmm” the cryptid licks his cheek, “it is, isn’t it. But since you are not going anywhere, and we are not limited by the confines of my imagination, I am even less inclined to rush. Will you indulge me with just kisse tonight?”
Duck brushes silver hair from his forehead, planting a kiss there when he’s done, “Of course.”
----------------------
The morning brings several feet of snow and announcement that those who can stay in their homes and shelter from the ongoing storm should. The pines drop heaps of white across the ground, and frost makes the windows so icy it’s better to draw the curtains and stay curled up in the dark.
Duck doesn’t mind at all.
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Why C!Wilbur and Dirk Strider are the same character: a thread
I said I would never touch Homestuck again, but this has been plaguing me for hours. This will be in bullet point sections because this is just my train of thought.
Personality
- They both act confident and sure of themselves to the point of egotism as overcompensation for crippling self hatred
- They are laid back characters and often act as the straight man towards their more chaotic and high strung peers.
- They are born leaders and have a strong desire to be in control of situations.
- If they are not able to be in control they will eventually start taking it out on the people around them regardless of whether they intend to.
- They have a strong interest in a particular creative field, which acts as a motif throughout their character arc (Wilbur with music and Dirk with robotics.)
- They both have a distinctive signature hairstyle and have a strong association with hats
- They are both extremely introspective to the point where they often don't communicate with those around them.
-They're both extremely pretentious
- They need a shit ton of therapy but never ended up getting it
(This is long as hell, the rest is going under a read more)
Relationships
- They have a younger brother figure who looks up to them a great deal. (We all know the parallels you can make with Tommy and Dave but I'll just lay them out again. Hot headed word vomity blonde boys with red baseball shirts, music disc motifs, a somewhat naive best friend who is often treated inferior to them by the antagonist/narrative itself associated with the color green, and a huge hero complex also pushed onto them by the narrative itself.)
- Their younger brother figure has complicated feelings towards them due to being in close proximity to them while they were at their absolute lowest mentally and has trauma related to the experience. (Bro and Pogtopia Wilbur are in no way a one to one comparison due to Bro having a disconnect from Dirk while Pogtopia Wilbur is literally just Wilbur. Also, Bro is much worse than Wilbur ever was, he was extremely physically and emotionally abusive towards Dave in a way Wilbur never even got close too.)
- Wilbur and Dirk have a strong need to help their friends improve themselves and act in a way more fit to how they want them to be. This is due to their need for control and is not inherently malicious, but can end up being obnoxious at best and slightly manipulative at worst. This can be seen in how Dirk tries to teach Jake to be less naive and how Wilbur tries to teach Tommy to be less rash.
- They both have a somewhat distant father figure who is seen as a great hero in the eyes of many. This figure lived centuries before they were born, only in Dirk's case his father figure wasn't immortal and he was a genetic clone of him.
Alternate Selves
- Alternate selves are a strong underlying motif in both of their arcs.
- In Dirk's case, he has many literal alternate selves. In Wilbur's, he only technically has one but he has been split up into alternate selves through Tommy's perspective, the person closest to him.
- This is more cosmetic, but they both have an alternate self that is a ghost (brain ghost dirk and ghostbur.)
- Dirk's alternate selves (or "splinters, if we're going to use the homestuck term) are a more direct reflection of himself than Ghostbur is to alivebur, but they show how other people view them and how they view themselves.
- They both feel disdain and resentment towards their alternate selves, (in wilbur's case a lot of this is shown with ghostbur's feelings towards alivebur,) going back to their self hatred.
Relationship towards the narrative
-As much as I dislike the Homestuck post canon, it's still a part of Dirk's story worth mentioning that parallels Wilbur. This section is comparing late season 1 Wilbur to Ultimate Dirk.
- They are both characters that often break the 4th wall and seem to have somewhat of an awareness that they are in a story.
- Due to their need to be in control, they often manipulate the story to stay relevant within it. This can be seen in how Ult. Dirk takes over the narrative in the epilogues, and how Wilbur decides within the story to take over as the villain.
- Once they are unable to be in control anymore, they choose to die as a way to end their character arc within the story and to leave behind a legacy.
- They’re extremely obsessed with meddling, Wilbur came back from beyond the fucking grave to meddle.
Also, you can’t tell me that Dirk Strider WOULDN’T name his crossbow chekov’s gun. He’s that bitch.
#idk how to tag this#dream smp#dsmp#mcyt#mcyt analysis#dream smp analysis#dsmp analysis#homestuck#wilbur soot
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Ahahaha so um, I was held at gunpoint to send this /j
Back before I found out that we are the citizens of L'manberg I had this whole like city and people thing mapped out in my head
Putting it below the cut because holy shit it's a ramble lmao
I had like a whole thing about older l'manbergians who'd survived both Nov 16th and the original independence war having this slight respect for the kids that gradually turned to feared and loyal respect because holy shit these kids are fucking terrifying. So like the old vets always have sayings. From old warnings about Dream to small stories about each of the kids.
Here's examples:
"Beware the smile, lest he carve out your own."
"Charged like lightning, loyal as one can be. Fight with him and earn the power of the sun. Fight against him and face a phoenix."
"Horns born from suppression, broken and scarred. He is himself and fights with the eyes as sharp as his sword.
"Broken and abandoned, with quick hands and a quicker mind. His loyalties are his own, so give him a shield and he'll fight for his allies with words and deception"
"He is neutral at a price. Give it to him and you'll have a sword to point."
"two halves equally loyal. To you or to them is the question. They fight for you not your ideals."
You get the idea.
- There's a unspoken superstition that the closer you are to death, the more unstable you get. Soldiers on their last lives are watched, for none of them want a repeat of Soot
- Younger and newer soldiers pray to Prime alongside Tommy. Older soldiers give their thanks to Sally, and with every fight they leave a sweet berry to flow down the river near l'manberg, for the woman that made their general smile.
- Younger soldiers hear about Soot the Madman. Older soldiers exchange bittersweet stories about General Wilbur. They're more sympathetic to his death and a few of them pay respects to the shrine in L'manhole for there is no official grave. In the same vein, Wil's revival broke a few of the older soldiers. To hear the man you fought for, that some died for, say that he didn't care for the country? It's... Something.
- A few kids grew up with Fundy, but because of his rising mental issues they were pushed away. So they make do in telling funny stories to the younger people to remind them of a time it wasn't all war and death.
- During the construction of New L'manberg, each building had a one single splinter of the L'mantree embedded for good luck. When Doomsday happened and L'mantree was burned, the older soldiers sung the anthem as they slowly pulled out the burnt pieces. Some Snowchester soldiers can see a scrap of bark hung around another's neck. It's a symbol of what they survived. Something none of them will ever forget.
- Niki had assistants in her bakery. Those assistants didn't survive Nov 16th. It's part of the reason the bakery was never rebuilt.
- For the longest time, L'manberg didn't have the technology for prosthetics. Those that lost any limbs were forced to deal with it. With the construction of Snowchester, Tubbo put in a lot of effort into creating prosthetics after his nukes were finished and tested. The very first person to get a prosthetic was a 5 year old girl, who had lost her brother and leg to Doomsday. She had a small claw carved into the shin, because her brother was a wolf hybrid.
- Post Doomsday, many of the remaining L'manbergians didn't go to Snowchester, instead camping in the very edge of the crater. It was these people that help Puffy cover the entire crater in glass
- A few veteran L'manbergians know of Dry waters and although Fundy abandoned it, they kept it in good shape and used it as a space to rest and recuperate or just leave to if they couldn't take the DSMP anymore.
- When Las Nevadas was built, it gained a lot of business at first due to the amount of people wanting to gamble their lives away, since really, what else could they do with their lives? Die?
- Every old Vet warned children of Dream, "beware the smile", they would say. The children laughed at their warnings, knowing the man was in prison. But the vets were haunted with that smile, and they knew. They saw what happened to Captain Innit.
- No prison can keep away the smile
- Because of this, there was a period of time where all the vets were terrified to smile. It reminded them too much of Dream.
- Those that abandoned L'manberg, that originally betrayed the country with Eret were haunted down by the rest of the soldiers, given a gruesome killing that forced Wilbur to make them stand down and isolate them. Making sure to tell his men that this isn't what L'manberg was about. Those same people laugh at what their General became. Taken by the same madness.
- The DSMP had bird hybrid's. Parrot hybrids, Crow hybrid's, Albatross and Falcon hybrids. Hummingbirds and a Robins. None of them had wings by the time L'manberg was formed. The phrase "no flying" engraved on their tongues.
- Newer children fly freely with light laughter. Old hybrid look at them with bitter smiles, either remembering a terrifying admin or a terrified general.
- Wilbur also had wings once.
- He fell just like the rest of them
- Older soliders regard George and Sapnap with anger and distain while the younger flock towards them, asking for tips in training or just stupid stories from the very beginning of when the land was just formed.
- Eventually both gained the older soldiers favor, they saw how Sapnap would coddle General Beloved or Spar with Captain Innit or General Underscore. They saw a shadow of the Old Wilbur as George ruffle Captain Innits hair or poke fun at General Underscore's lack of situational awareness sometimes. It reminded them of good times, despite the two being enemies at one point
- Micheal is watched, everyday and every night. If he is outside, there are people in the trees, outside the mansion. Hybrids under the water. If he is sitting inside, the mansion is covered in every entrance. General Underscore always tries to get them to stand down. It never works.
- They watched 3 children lose their innocences in the independence war. They watched Tubbo and Tommy suffer for the longest time. They've overheard Ranboo mumble to himself. They've seen Fundy roam around without a purpose and Purpled take on stupidly dangerous contracts.
- They will not fail another child
- Sometimes even Ranboo has an escort. The people immediately endeared to him. Various children follow him around and tell him what he forgot and his enderwalking form is especially a hit because he's basically a giant walking cat.
#dsmp#dream smp#mcyt#lmanhole#lmanberg#i got reminded about this when looking through my drafts#ranted about it to my platonic husband and then voi basically forced me to post it lmao
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Case File: [Unknown, Ophelia]
Approximate number of times [Unknown, Ophelia]:
sleeps easily: 4; sleeps troubled by nightmares: 7; sleeps alone: 15; sleeps with a girl: 3; sleeps with a boy: 0
kisses someone: 42, loves a man: 3; loves a woman: 1; falls in love: 1
lies to a friend: 5; lies to her father: 11; lies to her king: 3
contemplates death: 18; contemplates own death: 5; contemplates Hamlet and his family and how death seems to follow them like a wretched stench: 2; contemplates Signe’s death as a consequence of their relationship: 3
runs her fingers through Signe’s soft, coily hair: 32; kisses Signe’s cheek: 24; kisses Signe’s lips: 15; kisses Signe’s bare collarbone: 3; holds Signe’s hand: 17
feels strong: 4; feels strong when she is with Signe: 3; feels ashamed when she is with Hamlet: 6; feels ashamed because she feels ashamed when she is with Hamlet: 5; feels hollow: 3; feels tired of putting up with it all: 2; feels suicidal: [?]
spreads flowers with a distant smile: 1; acts is the fool: 3; is the fool: 1
falls from a branch: [?]; commits suicide: [?]
dies: 1; rises to heaven: [?]; falls to hell: [?]
How [Unknown, Ophelia] loves:
passionately, madly, coldly, roughly, unkindly, nimbly, caringly, warmly, brazenly, abruptly, softly, toughly, languidly, viciously, purely, sinfully, briefly and forever, thoroughly, without remorse, lustfully, recklessly, honestly
How [Unknown, Ophelia] lives:
Briefly- rarely mentioned in the page scrawled by a man who paints her the damsel.
Briefly- tumbling from a crib to a kitchenmaid’s bed to a watery grave beneath a tree.
Briefly- in a blaze of fire that tears the castle down.
How [Unknown, Ophelia] dies:
floating to her watery grave, the waves and her skirts enveloping her in a poetic embrace
Who [Unknown, Ophelia] has loved:
her father, her prince, her kitchenmaid, her brother
The two things [Unknown, Ophelia] does not say:
“I love you.”
“I want to die.”
What [Unknown, Ophelia] is not:
fragile
How [Unknown, Ophelia] dies:
cursing the heavens for the injustice of her story being overshadowed by a man's, of her life being sacrificed to feed some prince's pain
A truth [Unknown, Ophelia] said to the playwright:
“I was the more deceived.”
What the playwright decides [Unknown, Ophelia] is not important enough for:
a backstory, a faithful lover, dignity, a kiss, a say in her own future, a birthday, a mother, reciprocated love, a spine, sanity, a life
[Unknown, Ophelia]’s story is entitled:
Hamlet, filed under Tragedy.
How [Unknown, Ophelia] dies:
watching her life flash before her eyes, every mistake and good choice falling into the water with her
The first time [Unknown, Ophelia] falls in love:
the world splinters also everything burns also it’s a woman also the Prince is the furthest thing from her mind also her heart sings also fuck her father also Signe’s hair runs soft and crinkly under her fingertips also is the only time
How [Unknown, Ophelia] imagines her lover:
age 5: a boy who will play hoops with her, who will join her on a quest to find buried treasure beneath the castle walls
age 10: a Prince, reckless and dark-eyed, with a smirk already curving his lips
age 15: nothing like herself- a beautiful girl, a princess like she could never be
age 20: a kitchenmaid named Signe, with dark hair and dark eyes and dark skin, curves glistening in the candlelight and smile a beacon of hope
What [Unknown, Ophelia] does on-page:
drifts from man to man, goes mad in her mind, falls in a lake, drops flowers into people's laps, passes quips to a prince in a theatre, breaks apart into a million insane fragments for a Prince's sake
What [Unknown, Ophelia] does off-page:
drifts across the underside of a lake, goes mad in her heart, falls in love, drops kisses onto Signe’s cheeks, passes a hair ribbon between hands in a darkened hallway, breaks a girl's heart with her death
The flowers [Unknown, Ophelia] gave away:
Rosemary, for remembrance
Pansies, for thoughts
Fennel, for you, and Columbines
Rue, for you to wear with a difference
Daisy, for innocence
But no Violets, for they wither’d all when her father died
The flowers [Unknown, Ophelia] gave herself:
Rue, for repentance, regret, everlasting suffering, and sorrow
How [Unknown, Ophelia] dies:
[?]
The scene in which [Unknown, Ophelia] ends up immortalized:
Her descent, into madness and death, written by a playwright who writes suicide romantic rather than devastating.
A descent, then:
When Hamlet descends into madness, it is heroic. It is princely. His suicide by sword- for what else is it, truly- is considered truly regal.
When Ophelia descends into madness, it is tragic. It is delicate. She is the flower wilted, the rose with its thorns cut. She is the aftermath, the prequel, the death to further a plot.
[Unknown, Ophelia]’s name becomes:
an insult, a title for a lover scorned, a derisive nickname, a contemptuous glare, a metaphor for madness
a compliment, an appraising glance, a name for a lover true, a loving pet name, a simile for sympathy
What happens to [Unknown, Ophelia] after the funeral:
The story does not say.
How a kitchenmaid grieves:
Unnoticed, in the midst of death after death. First her lover, then the Queen and the Regent and the Prince. In a kingdom enveloped by grief, a kitchen maid's tears go unnoticed.
Location of a princess’s hair ribbon:
Tucked under a kitchenmaid’s skirts.
How [Unknown, Ophelia] dies:
Loved.
#hamlet#fairytale retelling#lesbian#ophelia#ophelia aesthetic#poetry#feminist retellings#shakespeare#pov ophelia#giving ophelia agency#you shakesp tell me abt the lady's side of things#lesbian ophelia#sapphic ophelia#meta#critique
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Word find game
Tagged by @drippingmoon to find rock, stone, tomb/grave and dirt
Rock
“Keep your foot on the gas, I said,” Jade replied. The truck approached a large rock formation. “Never mind, brake, brake!”
She grabbed the wheel and pulled left.
The truck narrowly missed the structure, but the giant had gotten even closer. Caz looked back and stomped on the gas pedal.
“Jade, two problems here: I don’t know where I’m driving, and I don’t know how to drive.”
Stone
Jade held a small ball of blue fire in her hand to light the way as they descended into the cavern. Caz began to notice more strands of sticky fibers hanging across the walls and ceilings of the cave until there was more web than stone surrounding.
“I fucking hate you, Jade,” he muttered.
Grave
I had to cheat on this and pull something from this mess of scenario where the gang goes to a wedding:
Back at the entryway, the man pulled his mouth off the quivering guest’s neck, blood dripping from his chin.
“Jesus, Vincenzio, wipe your face,” Caz said. “We both know your Mama would be rolling in her grave to see you with those kinds of manners.”
The man looked up at him with surprisingly piercing blue eyes.
“You know I’m here to kill you, right?”
Dirt
Jade pulled her arm away suddenly, sending petals flying in fiery bursts from both their hands. She stumbled and fell back onto the hard earth.
“Jade!” Violet cried out in concern, kneeling next to her. She held out her hand to help her.
“No, Violet,” Jade said. She began focusing on picking up the spilled petals, biting her lip as she saw several had been crumpled or stamped into the dirt. “Um, I can get up okay.”
Open tag, but also, if you'd like, tagging @diphthongsfordays, @splinter-cat, & @ayzrules (either here or on discord) to find warrant, spoil, word and rear.
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We get along (for the most part)
Chapter 2
OC X Lee Bodecker
———————————-
Warnings- a little angst and cursing.
Plot- The local rebel badass girl and Lee Bodecker have had run ins, lets see how it goes, shall we?
Word count : 2,705
MINORS DNI! THIS STORY WILL EVENTUALLY GET 18+. PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS. I DO NOT FEEL LIKE GETTING IN TROUBLE FOR YOU BEING STUPID. THANKS.
CHAPTER ONE IS PINNED ON MY PROFILE!
Sunday morning.
Slowly, I woke from my slumber hoping that I slept through church. Unfortunately, the sound of footsteps coming towards my door tells me differently. Knocking at the door, I hear a quiet voice come through the crack of my door.
“Maggy, are you up? Mamas goin have a fit if you aint up for church.”
That's my brother John, he is always there to wake me up on sundays. He enjoys going to church. I’m not really into it, i usually try to go back to sleep but my parents barely ever let me sleep through church, small town equals gossip. No matter what you do, someone is always talking about you. Sat the wrong way? Gossiped about. Sneezed during church? Gossiped about. Literally anything you do is talked about among the town residents. I was the talk of the town when I was in high school, everyone knew I was sneakin around with Arvin. No one liked it obviously, bein called every name in the book. I didn't care clearly, it didn't bother me or Arvin.
I groan and slowly get out of bed, stretching and looking out of my window. It's a beautiful sunny day in Knockemstiff, I never thought I would ever describe this run down town like that, it's quite beautiful here though. Open fields for miles, I could see why no one would want to leave. I mean in old age, you could just do anything with your land and live off it.
Getting up, I feel my feet hit the cold wood floor of my room. Everyday, I hope I don't get a splinter from the floor so I wear slippers throughout the house. I head to the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror. My hair is disheveled and almost out of the bun that I had it in the night before, my eyebrows are out of place and the bags underneath my eyes are prominent. I sigh and splash some cold water on my warm face. I grab my toothbrush and go for it, spitting out the toothpaste and flashing my teeth in the mirror to make sure I didn't miss a spot.
I heard my parents and brother moving around pretty quickly so I looked at the clock near my bed. It's 9:30 am, church starts in about 20 minutes and it takes 10 to get there. Quickly, I put my hair in a low bun, slapped on some powder and a plain lip color, a rose color to compliment my fair skin. Hopping around, I grab a plain flowy blue dress that goes up to about the middle of my thigh and a pair of white keds, quick and simple.
I step out of my room and grab my clutch so I have something to hold while in church, I usually can't keep my hands still. I shut the door behind me and head out to the living room to see everyone quickly eating some toast off their plates in the kitchen, I hop over and steal a piece of toast and bacon off Johns plate and then we are out the door.
Hopping in my dads truck, the ride there is quiet. We don't talk much in my family, only at dinner once and a while and sometimes when my father drinks. Which is only when he is done work on Fridays. I make sure I'm out of the house on fridays, he never stops talking when he is drinking. My parents and I have never been that close really, kind of an unspoken family thing. Mother stays quiet and does her motherly duties as us women are expected to do once we pop out a few puppies. I refuse to be like that.
The ride to church is scenic,open fields for miles and so many animals to look at. I enjoy the breeze coming through my hair but I just wish it was from me driving my car out somewhere I have never been. Like maybe California, it's probably beautiful. I have never been to a beach, as a matter of fact I've never been out of Knockemstiff before. I envy everyone who leaves this place and never comes back. As soon as I can get out of here, I will. I swear on everything I love.
The car stops and I get out, my feet hitting the dirt road below me. My keds are gonna need a cleaning after this. Stepping around the car, I separate from my family and hop around the back of the church to smoke a quick cig before I go through the church doors to act like I'm holy for 2 hours.
Stepping to the left side of the church, I put my clutch on a bush and grabbed a cigarette from the pack stuffed in my bag. Quickly I light it and suck on it as quickly as I possibly can to just get a moment to myself. Looking out into the distance, I always forget that the cemetery is this close to the church. Graves for as far as the eyes can see. That distracted me to the point where I forgot how quick I was smoking and ended up inhaling too much smoke at one time, leading me to cough quite loud. I throw the cigarette on the floor below my foot and crush it quickly.
I hear an oh so familiar voice in the distance as I finish my coughing fit.
“ Ms. Lane, what a pleasure to see you on this fine sunday.” He says, walking towards me with his fingers hooked around the belt loops of his pants.
Same uniform everyday, never fails.
“Say, what are you doin here behind the church all by your lonesome? “ Lee says as he stands next to me, I can smell the tobacco and mint on him the same as I did last night. I look over at Lee with an exhausted look on my face from the coughing fit I just had.
Lee looks down at the ground and a grin forms on his face, sneaky bastard never misses a beat.
“Ms.Lane-” Lee begins to say and I stop him
“Please, for the love of christ call me Maggy. I am not 16 anymore, Lee.” You say as you start to walk past him. He grabs your arm and stops you.
“Maggy Lane, just know I know about your little reputation.” Lee says as he still has you by the arm, kind of digging his nails into your soft skin as you try to pull away a bit.
“As a matter of fact, I was there when you began your little shenanigans. Be careful of how you talk to your sheriff, little lady.” You look at him in disgust as he tries to intimidate you.
“ Also, I told you those cigarettes was bad news, you're lucky I don't stop on over and talk to your pop about your little habit.” Lee says with a smirk on his face. You finally wiggle out of his grip, your arm dropping to your side with crescent shaped marks on your arm. You rub the spots where Lee's fingers were just digging into your upper arm.
Looking up at him, he tips his hat at you and starts to walk away. You spit on the ground near his feet and he turns around on his feet, quick.
“ I hope you know you're a prick, Bodecker.” You spit out at him.
Immediately, you are backed up against the wood boards of the church, both of Lee's arms on either side of your head. Your heart is racing and your breath is hitching. You're frozen.
“Listen to me, you little bitch.” Lee inches closer to your face, your noses almost touching. You turn your head to the side hoping that he won't really notice but he grabs your face and holds it so you are looking him directly in the eyes.
“Your little mouth will get you in trouble, especially with me.” Your breath hitches as he gets closer. Your heart could explode. You were terrified.
“ Lee, church is starting. We better get in there before we miss anything” A voice in the distance yells.
Instantly, Lee lets you go and strides back to the unknown voice.
You stand there with a shocked look on your face, as if you had just seen the devil up close. You were frozen in your current position but as soon as people started going in the building you sank to your feet and sat there for a minute breathing heavily. You fixed yourself up and stood outside the door of the old church, taking a deep breath before going in and finding your seat next to your family.
Church dragged on and on, I felt like I was going to fall asleep. A screaming preacher, so many people in such a small space. Half way through, I got up to go to the bathroom and caught Lee staring at me and he gave me a small smirk. Creep.
Stepping into the bathroom, I look at my face in the mirror. It's still slightly red from where Lee had his disgusting hand around my chin. I pushed on the spot and it felt like it was going to bruise.
“ Fuck” I whispered to myself as I turned my head side to side to look at the red around my lips and on my chin. This is for sure going to bruise.
I splash some water on my face to refresh myself and then I step out of the bathroom to bump into something in front of me.
“Shit, I am so sorry” You say as you back up into the oak door and look at the person in front of you.
“ Oh, no worries hun.” the woman in front of you says.
You look at her quickly as you step aside, sticking out your hand and you say “I don't think I have met you before, I’m Maggy Lane.”
She sticks out her hand and shakes yours firmly, she is a very pretty woman with short brown curly hair.
Thin and very well put together, can't be more than 25 years old.
“ It’s very nice to meet you sweetheart, I’m Ruth Har- I mean Bodecker.” She says smiling as she pulls her hand back from the handshake and puts it back on her clutch bag.
“You the sheriff's wife?” you say as you cock your head to the side questioningly.
“Yes, I am.” she smiles, “ We've been married now for about a year, a very fine man he is.” She says as she steps aside to talk to you for a minute before she steps into the bathroom.
You were shocked, Lee actually was married? He was such an asshole, you didn't think anyone would want him. As you had said the previous night, you would tell his wife if he had called you another pet name but she looks so sweet. He doesn't deserve her. You had just said that assumin he even had a woman at home.
“ Thats nice, say you ain't from around here, are ya?” You say in a little southern drawl, she aint from these parts. You can tell by the way she says certain words.
“ No darlin, i'm from Tennessee.” she smiled “Met Lee out there while I was workin in a bar.” she blushed a bit.
“ Huh, well look at that.” you say as you cross your arms and lean against the doorframe of the bathroom. “ Lee does get out of town then.”
She chuckles and you look at the time, church is going to be over soon.
“ Well, it was very nice meeting you, Mrs.Bodecker.” You say as you turn your back and start walking towards the stairs to go back to the chapel area.
“ You too, darlin.” She says waving at you.
“ See you around” You say as you head back up the stairs.
---------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 2 already? I’m crankin shit out lol
Hope yous like it so far! Dont forget to leave opinons/replys and as always dont forget to like/reblog!
tag list : @ladyfallonavenger
@please-buckme
@youcancallmeishita
@unsentlettersandmore
@angelicbabydolll
@local-spacegirl
@do-not-pray-for-me
@not-another-fangirl
@nerdy-depressed
@buckysdolls
#sheriff lee bodecker#lee bodecker#chapter#the devil all the time#sebastian stan#tdatt fic#tdatt fanfiction#ongoing fic
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1x02: Wendigo
Then:
No Chick Flick Moments
Now:
In Blackwater Ridge, Colorado, three dudes enjoy the wilderness by gaming inside their tent. Something stalks their campsite from the shadows but the unattended fire that’s dangerously close to their flammable homes must be keeping it at bay, right? Erm, well, one dude heads out to the little boy’s room (a nearby tree) and gets snatched.
Another one pops his head out the tent door and gets snatched as well. The third dude kills his light and watches the shadow of a very fast creature circle his tent until it slashes the side and snatches him as well.
Palo Alto, California
Sam’s visiting Jessica’s grave. It really didn’t affect me the first time I watched this. It’s devastating to watch now though. Knowing Sam now --knowing how he doesn’t let people in, knowing how he didn’t even really let Jess in but loved her and wanted this world he could never have with her. Knowing that it’s fifteen years later and he’s had no one to really be with (Amelia was a construct of his damaged brain when forced to face the supernatural without Dean or Cas. I will not be taking questions at this time.) (But I guess he gets a blurry wife so ALLS GOOD FOR SAMMY.) He tells Jessica, “I should have protected you. I should have told you the truth.” Gah. Nothing could have saved her, and he has to go another fifteen years before he realizes this for good.
Psych! He was actually dreaming, but I hold firm with my thoughts on the dream scene.
Dean asks if Sam is okay.
Sam says yes and clears his throat. Classic! Then Dean asks if Sam wants to drive for a while. GAH. Like, Dean’s looking out for his little bro in the only way he knows right now --letting him drive.
They discuss leaving Palo Alto, and Dean points out that if they’re going to find the thing that killed Jess, they have to find their dad. He’s sending them to Colorado. Specifically to a National Forest in Lost Creek, Colorado.
They get to the warden’s station and introduce themselves as Environmental Study majors from UC-Boulder. “Recycle, man.” Bbys. The ranger sees right through their bullshit though. He asks if they’re friends with “that Hailey girl.” Dean sees his chance to learn more and leans into it. Hayley apparently has a brother that’s on Blackwater Ridge. He isn’t technically missing but she knows something is up.
Dean gets the brother’s camping permit. And now I need to process the next couple of lines. Sam asks if Dean wants a hook up with Hailey. Like, fuck you Sam for not knowing your brother at all, but also I guess you’re forgiven because your brother does do everything in his power to project that kind of energy. However, Dean is working the case and wants to know what they’re dealing with on this mountain.
Dean and Sam head over to Hailey’s to ask her about her brother, Tommy. They say they’re rangers.
Hailey gets on Dean’s good side by complementing his car. Hailey tells the brothers that she feels something is wrong because Tommy checks in every day via his cell and satellite phone. Hailey’s heading out first thing in the morning to try and find him.
Later at a bar, Sam “NERD” Winchester pulls out his extensive research on the area. People disappear on the ridge every 23 years. There was one survivor in 1959. They go to interview him. He tries to stick to the grizzly bear story, but eventually admits that they won’t believe him since no one else ever did. He said it moved fast and came into their cabin. It took his parents and left him with a horrible scar.
The next morning, Sam and Dean meet up with Hayley, her brother Ben, and the guide, Roy. The guide is skeptical but Dean just wants to help find her brother.
Cut to Tommy tied up in a cave. He wakes just in time to watch one of his friends get chomped to pieces by the monster.
Dean and Roy try to out alpha each other. Roy finds a bear trap and saves Dean from a nasty injury. I’m over here wondering wtf that’s doing in the middle of a national forest.
Hayley calls Dean out on their lack of provisions and wants to know who they are. He comes clean and tells her that they’re brothers looking for their father. But also, uh, Dean wearing jeans and boots is way more practical than SHORTS when hiking. Who wants to fuck around with ticks and poison ivy? All these years we thought Dean was just posturing about shorts when he was actually being a practical son of a bitch.
They reach the ridge and hear absolutely nothing. Roy decides he’s going to wander off alone. Solid choice, dude. The rest stick together. Soon they hear Roy call for Hailey. They run to him. They find her brother’s destroyed campsite. They find tracks of where the bodies were dragged and Tommy’s destroyed phone.
They explore the campsite, which is torn to absolute bits. Dean tracks the struggle to just outside of the campsite, where the trail quickly grows cold. Everyone gets lured further into the woods by desperate cries for help but it gets them nowhere. When they return to the destroyed camp, Sam pulls out their dad’s journal and they use it to pinpoint the monster: it’s a wendigo.
They hunker down for the night at the camp, and Dean protects them with Anasazi symbols drawn in the dirt. Soooooooooo in one breath you’re telling me that wendigo are found around the upper midwest / Canada, and in the next you’re telling me that the Anasazi (Southwestern/Western US) created widely-established protections against the wendigo? STARES DIRECTLY INTO THE CAMERA. The timelines! The geographic areas! Sigh...Supernatural ain’t ever had that good of a track record.
Dean tries to unpack Sam’s gourd. Sam doesn’t want to waste time hunting a wendigo when he can find their dad and hunt for what killed Jess instead. Dean holds out John Winchester’s journal like it’s a friggin’ (gags a little) bible and delivers the now-iconic line: “I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business.”
Sam wants to know why John doesn’t just call his boys and give them an update - “It makes no sense.” OMG RIGHT, SAM? #JohnWinchester’sA+Parenting
Dean tells Sam that helping other people and other families is what helps him make it through each day. We cry in Dean’s face a little, even when he immediately attempts to mask his empathy in his very next (also iconic) line: “Let me tell you what else helps. Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can.”
Pleas for help start to echo through the woods again. Roy fires indiscriminately into the trees and races after his prey, sight unseen. Hands grab him by the head and haul him up into the trees. Everyone else makes it through the night safely and Roy’s demise reminds us that toxic masculinity KILLS.
The next morning, Sam’s moodily staring at their dad’s journal while Dean chats with Haley about the hunt.
For LOOK AT THIS BEAN Science:
We get info-dumped a truly mixed bag of lore, attributing wendigo tales to the Cree people (right region, at least!) and saying that wendigo are created by cannibalistic acts gone into overdrive. The implication here is that cannibalism equals power but alas, it also turns one into a monster. Wendigo like to squirrel away humans like nuts, so Haley’s brother might be alive and trapped for later snacking. And they can kill it! Kill it with fire.
Cut to Dean striding through the woods with a molotov cocktail in hand. THAT’S MY BOY. They follow an easy trail of bloody claw marks along the trees. Too late, Sam realizes it was TOO EASY. Roy’s body drops from the canopy and the group splinters as they flee. Dean and Haley get nabbed, leaving Sam and Ben to find their missing siblings. Ben finally gets some lines, alerting Sam to Dean’s breadcrumb trail of peanut M&Ms.
They head into a defunct mine. (Speak friend and enter?) Growls echo through the darkened tunnels, but Sam and Ben discover the body storage by accident when they fall through floor boards into a lower level. They discover Haley and Dean trussed up and free them. Tommy’s there too! And still alive!
Dean finds some flare guns and they make their way out of the tunnels. Dean tries to lure the wendigo away from the siblings and Sam. All his attempts are for naught, because the wendigo tries to attack Sam, and the three siblings. It’s okay, though! Dean fires a flare gun right into its gut and it burns into embers.
Later at the ranger’s station, they spin tales to the cops about a grizzly.
Haley thanks Dean with a gentle kiss, and Dean watches the siblings leave with a fond and wistful expression. JENSEN ACKLES YOUR FACE IS A MENACE!
The Winchesters hit the road, Sam behind the wheel of the Impala. Time to hunt some evil sons of bitches and play some classic rock!
Oh sweetheart, I don’t do quotes:
Recycle, man
Nobody likes a skeptic
I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business
Man, I hate camping
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