in s05e01 when tommy talks to grace's ghost, he says to her "all this time" (to which she replies "our love still remains"). just like in the s6 finale where tommy says to alfie "after all this time, just you and me". in this essay, i will-

I actually don’t mind that “dead dove” has become conversational shorthand for “fics with heavy themes where you REALLY need to pay attention to the warnings”. such is the nature of language. what i do mind is when people tag their actual fics with dead dove and then give no indication of what they’re actually warning about. that is useless. that helps no one. that is completely against the spirit of the meme. i will not be reading that

When the tags say "bdsm" and "dead dove" it means that the bdsm is, like, super duper bdsm.

When the tags say "dead dove" with no other clarifying tags, it's like walking down a hallway and having someone shout "BE ALARMED" and then vanishing into thin air with no further details given. Be alarmed about what.

Peaky blinders is so funny. That cop guy really sent the girl he was in love with to seduce the hot tortured bad boy and then was like wait not like that

“Wait not like that” 😂😂😭

@tophatcat459

ID 📸

the moment after alfie asked tommy if he’s alright

u ever read a fanfic so good that you want. fanfic of the fanfic

Star Trek Beyond AU where Jaylah gets captured by Krall before the events of the film. She knows the Enterprise and has a true sob story, so is sent under threat of her own life to go and find the Enterprise and bring the Abronath to him.

The Enterprise crew have their shore leave on Yorktown and only get disturbed when the USS Franklin, seemingly lost to time and the vastness of space, appears being manned solo by Jaylah. The Federation immediately hound her with questions but Jim manages to get them to stop. She doesn't open up to them at first, just says she got attacked years ago, fixed up this ship and managed to escape. She tells them that she wanted to get supplies before she went out to find more of her people again, not exactly a lie but a far off dream for if she manages to survive this whole Krall business.

They offer to help her find her people, she agrees, hoping to lead them to Altamid, but part of her does want to know if she can find anyone she used to know. She decides not to lie fully, she must have come from somewhere near Altamid to crash there. It's not that she was young when they crashed but rather the trauma of losing her entire family in a death camp and having to survive by herself on a strange planet meant that she has some trauma induced memory loss.

She bonds with all the crew reluctantly. They think it's her trauma and being in a strange new culture that's making her standoffish, not the fact that she's double-crossing them.

They find a trading conference in non-federation space, after she tells them she was a trader, and find out what a family of her people.

Then Krall arrives, he thinks Jaylah's trying to escape. Everyone scatters, they don't have a chance to talk to Jaylah's people or get her a chance to join them again. They transport back to the ship fast only for Krall to follow. They have no idea who he is or what he's doing, but he goes straight for Jaylah.

They speak in another language. Jaylah emotional, angry and crying at the same time, trying to fight. Scotty goes to help but Krall pushes him away. Jim intervenes only for Krall to tell him they've been defending his spy and she's not been very good. Accompanied by guards, Jaylah and Spock get the Abornath.

Uhura manages to get a distress call to the other traders before they all disappeared and Jaylah's people (called Tyrakhean apparently) reply. They manage to go the Tyrakhean's home planet but immediately regret it when they realise what the Abronath is a part of. Jaylah's pissed off at them, they're pissed off at her.

They don't want to work with her at first, thinking she's always worked with Krall, until she tells them of what happened. She knows what that weapon will do and the only way to stop all of her people dying is to destroy it. They work together with her people to stop Krall and give her the option of staying but she decides to stay with the Federation.

Will the Blood Be There in the Morning? - Whumptober2023

But for days like today, he didn’t need a date to remember. He didn’t need to read a board or for someone to inform him, he knew that today was the day he died.

He could tell in the rising sickness, rippling through his stomach and leaving that thick, sharply sweet feeling of nausea in his throat. It was the screaming sensation in his bones telling him something was wrong, different in his reanimated corpse tonight. The scar across his back didn’t hurt exactly, not tingly or weeping, yet at least, but he could certainly say that he was more aware of it right now than he usually was.

----

Ahkmenrah experiences his death again.

For day 13 of @whumptober . Also on AO3, inspired by a post here on tumblr that I can't find but spoke about the exhibits experiencing their deaths. If anyone can find it for me then I'd greatly appreciate it.

Words: 4066

Ahkmenrah stood overlooking his sarcophygus with a sick feeling in his stomach. Rising bile despite the fact that his gall bladder had been removed with his liver, held by Ismeti and part of the many artifacts of his that were stored, but he couldn’t have. He often wondered if they too were restored to how they’d been when he was alive each night, or stayed dead considering they’d been removed from his body. Or they could just magically return to his body, they hadn’t been removed when he’d been alive so if he was truly how he was then, in body at least, not spirit, then surely they’d be there. He’d never ventured to the records department to find out. 

Sometimes the passage of time, and the different calenders used in the modern day, made it hard to remember exact dates from his previous life. His birthday, when his parents had died, when he was crowned Pharaoh, when he died. If it wasn’t for the historians finding old records and translating them into the modern day, he wouldn’t be able to trust himself to remember much at all. 

He was the only actual human exhibit in the entire museum, he wondered if that meant his memories were more or less vibrant than the likes of say, Teddy, who could recount tales all night long, but openly admitted to the fact that they didn’t feel like his. Ahkmenrah couldn’t really get his head around that idea. His memories were his after all, so the idea of remembering something, but knowing it was all fake, made him feel even more sick to his stomach.

But for days like today, he didn’t need a date to remember. He didn’t need to read a board or for someone to inform him, he knew that today was the day he died. 

He could tell in the rising sickness, rippling through his stomach and leaving that thick, sharply sweet feeling of nausea in his throat. It was the screaming sensation in his bones telling him something was wrong, different in his reanimated corpse tonight. The scar across his back didn’t hurt exactly, not tingly or weeping, yet at least, but he could certainly say that he was more aware of it right now than he usually was.

This night was one of the few nights that he’d appreciated being locked away for fifty years in his saarcophygus. Seeing people, when you were literally dying, was a little hard to muster. Especially with how gruesome his death would get, he should know, he experienced it every year. Also, people didn’t get concerned over his screams like they would do now, his screams were normal after all. And they left him alone, something he wanted tonight but didn’t exactly get. If he ever isolated himself too much, someone would always try to find him, not a desired outcome when you’re trying not to vomit on your own blood. Not good.

“Ahk, you alright?” That was Larry, he had absolutely no idea about what was happening right now. He didn’t want him to find out. It was far too much for even the other exhibits, much less a mortal man who hadn’t yet experienced death. 

He swallowed the rising bile, the main event wouldn’t start for a few hours, he could handle things for a few hours. “I will be,” He said, turning to him with a half-smile.

“Great, come on, there’s a red moon tonight.”

A blood moon, how ironic.

Idea where anyone with the Bradshaw name can see ghosts. So when Goose dies, Bradley doesn't notice at first because he can still see his dad like normal. Carole's still grieving but also isn't because she can continue her relationship but it's also different so she's conflicted. Mav doesn't know they can see ghosts so gets concerned until Carole tells him while doing the dishes and he drops the plate he's drying

Can't You Come Home? - Whumptober2023

I'll take one final step, all you have to do is make me - Can't you see you're lost without me

It's Carole's funeral and Bradley misses her more than anything.

For day 19 (and 10) of @whumptober . Also on AO3.

Words: 650

Birds tweeted in the background. The sky was an endless blue and summer was setting in. Texas summers were always hotter than hell, humid and sticky. His collar was glued to his neck, his shirt was wet against his skin. He’d been wanting to rip it off for hours but now he was alone in the graveyard, he didn’t know what to do. 

This suit felt too big on him, yet also too small. He kept thinking the ground was going to swallow him, like he was slipping under just a little. His head was going, distance spreading between him and the world around him. What he needed right now was a hug from his mum. Too bad she was six feet under.

The flowers by her gravestone spelt out ‘Mom’ in her favourite flowers. At his feet was compact dirt from where they’d buried her. It was still fresh. The grave, the flowers, her death.

He’d cried so much over the past fews weeks that he didn’t think he had any left. Something within him was on the verge, he’d cried the tears and now the ground was cracking from drought. He wanted to destroy those flowers, the bouquets back in the church, wanted to rip it all apart because it wasn’t fair. He’d lost his dad, now his mum and all he wanted was for things to stop, for everyone to go away so he could possibly hear them talking to him. 

“Why did you have to go?” He said, his voice raw. “You said you’d never leave.”

That broke him. He thought the tears had stopped but the thick feeling in his throat couldn’t be denied. A sharp feeling shot throigh his nostrils as tears welled up and overflowed. They began to cover his face, making it slimy and wet as he wiped them away with the cuff of his blazer. His tie was undone around his neck, he hated formalware like this, you only ever wore it at uncomfortable situations. 

“I need you here, I need my mom,”

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand as snot flowed out of his nose. He hiccuped as he couldn’t hold back the tears he didn’t know he had. An urge to crawl into the ground, to curl around her like he had done the past few months every night, like he still did despite her not being in that bed anymore. He was cradling her blanket every chance he could get. 

“I miss you.”

If he concentrated hard enough, he could hear her talking. He knew it was just in his head but maybe if he really really tried, closed his eyes and screwed them really tight, he could hear her, feel her next to him like she’d been on his dad’s funeral. 

“I’m right here,” she whispered on the wind. “Just listen.”

It didn’t make him stop crying, in fact it made the tears flow harder. But he needed to hear her, needed something to stop the anger that was flowing out even if it was all in his head. She was always good at that, not stifling his emotions but chanelling them, helping him make sense of them. 

Rain began to fall. The wind picked up, wiping the tears off his face, driving the stickiness off him as his mother’s words rippled around him. The petals of the flowers picked up around him, swirling and if he squinted he could almost see her, almost picture the way she’d smile and hold him so close that it made everything feel better. 

As the first few drops fell on his head, he didn’t smile but he felt the anger soothe and lower. She wasn’t here, not really, but if he breathed in the scent of the rain and listened to the wind. She almost was. It was as close as he was going to get.

----

Poor baby :( Just needs a hug from his mum :( This adds to my idea that even if icemav got to raise Bradley for a bit (a headcanon that isn't my favourite as I don't generally ship Icemav that much) then it wouldn't be a great fun time, they'd get an angry, hurt kid who just misses his parents in a way that probably only Mav would relate to. Also this could be interpreted as Bradley seeing ghosts, which is a fic I really want to write someday. Thanks for reading! @whumptober-archive

It Must Be Difficult (Dealing with the Concequences of Your Own Actions) - Whumptober2023

People don't change, time does

Summer was nice in Hawkins, she thought, staring at the blue sky. Not California nice, sandy beaches, surfboards and ice cream. It was vibrant green trees against the cloudless sky, hiking in the woods and barbecues in backyards. Also Steve had a pool, which helped. 

Black suited a blue sky and emerald trees. So did the church, brown brick with a full garden of flowers out front. Picturesque and manicured. It was a shame it was for a funeral, and not even for anyone good or pretty. Billy didn’t like flowers, or anything that wasn’t his car, himself or heavy metal. Although now she was wondering if he’d even loved himself.

The ceremony had been insufferable. Stuffy air filled the room and not from the heat. There was an arbitrary picture of Billy next to an open casket, they’d cleaned up his body enough that with a suit, his prom suit, it almost wasn’t like he’d been killed by a monster from another dimension that he’d helped to create. 

For day 20 of @whumptober . Also on AO3

Words: 3768

She didn’t know why she was doing this at night, it wasn’t like she’d get in trouble, Neil hadn’t involved her in any of the funeral arrangements, even when he made all the wrong decisions. Billy was going to hate it. It wasn’t exactly all to boost Neil’s ego but it mostly was, make him out to be a loving father who’d lost his only son. Not a dad who regularly beat up his own kid for stepping a toe out of line. 

“Are you sure about this?” Lucas asked behind her. 

The party were on their bikes, they’d been out all day, trying to forget the horrors they’d seen over the past week. She’d have to go home soon, not that she wanted to. Neil was crying, honest to god crying, like she’d never seen. Her mum was frozen in place working automatically as if nothing had changed, but she could see in the way she moved that she was frozen in shock too. 

Max felt sick a lot. Guilt, trauma. The idea that she couldn’t tell anyone how he actually died, Neil just had to live with ‘he saved me and my friends from a mall fire’ and how he went on and on about how he’d been stupid to go in there, they all had. He hadn’t quite stepped over to ‘if you hadn’t gone in there, he wouldn’t be dead’ but she could sense it coming. If she thought the house was tense before, then it definitely was now. 

“It’s worth a try, right?” She said, posting the invitation into the letter box and getting back on her bike.

Lucas just shrugged, “My mom says you can stay around again if it helps.”

“So did my mom.” Added Will, El was on the back of his bike, staying with Joyce until further notice.

If there was anyone who was sharing her grief right now, it was her. Although her relationship with Hopper had been much better and less complicated, they still lost people to the same fight, still wondered if they could’ve done better, fought better to save them. She tried to tell herself that she would’ve died but that didn’t seem too bad at the moment, with how much her mum and Neil were arguing. 

“And mine.” said Mike.

Dustin nodded. It was great to have such supportive friends, sometimes that house felt claustrophobic, but others it was comforting. It was the only place she really had to feel connected to Billy. His things were there, his camaro had been sold off to someone and they were miles away from California, so it was the only place to go if she wanted to remember and grieve without shame. Sometimes she woke up in his bed of all places.

“Thanks guys but I think I’ll go home,”

“As long as you’re sure,” Lucas added.

She nodded. She’d gotten most of Billy’s things after he’d died, all his music and books and random shit filling up the spaces. They weren’t sure what to do with his clothes. That had made her break down, because she could always keep the music, she actually liked some of the heavier stuff he played, and he didn’t have many books. But his clothes were so uniquely him that didn’t know how she could get rid of them, even if they were of no use to her otherwise. 

She just nodded and began to cycle away. She couldn’t look back, she knew she couldn’t because they all looked so worried. Worried about her, worried about the fact that she just sent off that invitation, worried about her going home. They didn’t need to worry, she told herself, she could handle herself.