#Also White Shores making the list even though it is my LEAST visited fic is amazing too AKJSHFKA

[gentlemancrow]

I posted 2,488 times in 2022

65 posts created (3%)

2,423 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@lucky-numberme

@beesabuzzin

@blasphemous-lies-and-deceit

@m-e-w-666

@fairyschlongmother

I tagged 1,746 of my posts in 2022

Only 30% of my posts had no tags

#the magnus archives - 684 posts

#tma - 682 posts

#jonmartin - 329 posts

#jmart - 327 posts

#firefly verses - 219 posts

#jonathan sims - 137 posts

#martin blackwood - 103 posts

#spoilers - 53 posts

#crow caws - 42 posts

#teaholding - 41 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#also i am very enamored of the one you shared the other day fairytales such as these thank you for fixing that moment in canon so perfectly

I sent 1 gift in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I am on S4 of my TMA relisten and today as I was listening and baking and crying and this little detail just punched me right in the heart that escaped my notice the first time.

JON TRIES TO ASK HER FOR A CUP OF TEA BUT THEN HE FIZZLES AND GIVES IT UP AND HE SOUNDS SO ACHINGLY SAD. MARTIN ALWAYS BRINGS THE TEA BUT MARTIN ISN'T THERE. EVERYONE ELSE IS EITHER RESENTFUL OF HIM WAKING UP OR AT BEST WARY AND CAUTIOUS OF HIM AND THE FIRST THING HE WANTS IS TEA BUT REALLY MARTIN AND COMFORT BECAUSE TEA IS SYNONYMOUS WITH BOTH OF THOSE THINGS I'M CHEWING A HOLE IN THE FOUNDATION TO BURY MYSELF IN AND CRY FOREVER.

43 notes - Posted April 3, 2022

#4

Sometimes Saturday chillin results in Sunday yearnin and that's just how the cruel, cruel world works 😘

(ORIGINAL IDEA CREATED BY @lucky-numberme I JUST SLAPPED IT ON A MEME EHEHE)

74 notes - Posted May 15, 2022

#3

White Shores are Calling - A ghost story

White Shores are Calling (Read on AO3)

Once upon a time, high atop a lonely, misty cliffside beside the sea, sat a haunted house… The year is 1863 and ghosts are all the rage, but Head Butler Jonathan Sims of Magnus Manor does not believe in spiritualism, or ghost stories, or any of that trite hocus pocus. Until, that is, he finds himself inextricably tied up in the mysterious tale of Martin, the last lonely spirit remaining there. Though Jon, too, is facing the final curtain of mortal life, he will do whatever it takes to unravel the secrets of the house and free them both from its tethers before his own time runs out.

PRESENTING!! My work for the @podcastbigbang 2022! A Victorian Jmart ghost story with promo art and chapter illustrations by my dearest friends and absolutely incomparably talented artists @pocketsizedquasar and @grayscaleskies!! I could not have been more honored to work with this team and to cry about inconsequential mundane details about Victorian life and clothing with them! SO much love and heart went into this project and I truly hope you all enjoy! ; w ;

[ID: A drawing of Jon and Martin from the Magnus Archives. Jon is a thin Pakistani person with medium brown skin and long, curly, greying black hair pulled into a ponytail with a purple ribbon. He has a short beard, and heterochromia with one brown eye and one green. They are wearing a dark green tailcoat with gold eye buttons and are looking back over his shoulder with his back towards the viewer. They have white gloves and black pants, in one hand is a candle holder with a lit candle and the other holds a blood-stained handkerchief. They have a serious and stern expression looking back towards Martin. Martin is a fat Black and Filipino man with dark freckled skin and short, curly, reddish brown hair. He has small glitches on his skin, revealing the bones beneath his face. Fog flows off his skin, hair, and jacket. He is wearing a mauve waistcoat over a pale pink undershirt, a warm dark brown workman’s coat, and grey pants. He is looking over his shoulder back at Jon with a longing expression. Behind them both are stylized swirls of fog in shades of grey surrounded by grey mist and pale yellow light in the center of the image. Between the two is the text ‘White Shores are Calling’ in a swirly, handwriting font. Below, in bold, all capital letters font reads ‘By @ gentlemancrow with art by @ pocketsizedquasar and @grayscaleskies. End ID/]

84 notes - Posted May 4, 2022

#2

"Martin was only speaking out of trauma and self-worth issues and even in the most boring, utterly pedestrian of situations or universes, he and Jon still would have met, maybe disliked each other at first, quickly discovered it was only because of some kind of ridiculously silly misunderstanding or misinterpretation, fallen head over heels in love, and the blossom of their romance would have been unequivocally equally disgustingly sappy and beautiful blooming in adversity or mundanity" is a hill I will WILLINGLY BLISSFULLY INSISTENTLY die upon every single time FULL STOP.

971 notes - Posted March 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

WOW I can't believe it's been a whole year since Jon and Martin had the big climactic showdown with Elias, kissed, and pushed a button that just magically saved the world and made everything better INCREDIBLE.

1,768 notes - Posted March 25, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[rayonfrozenwings]

WAITING IN THE FREEZING DARK: CHAPTER 10 - Darkness and Spiced Scents

Spoiler Alert: Contains references to ACOFAS.

Authors Note: So it’s been a very long hiatus, because Kingdom of Ash destroyed me and stole all my creative energy. New Chapters!

A Nessian Fan Fiction: Characters all belong to Sarah J Maas and her book series A Court of Thorns and Roses. This Story takes place after ACOFAS. The story has Multiple POV’s, taking place in the Illyrian camp, Windhaven, Nesta and Cassian are living together at the behest of the high lord and lady of the night court.

Chapter 10 - Darkness and Spiced Scents

Previous chapters are here: 1, 2, 3, 4 , 5 , 6 7, 8, 9,  and Masterlist here.

I have also put this on AO3: Series Link  :)

WC: 1361

Chapter 10 - Darkness and Spiced Scents

Cassian

The camps were always damp, muddy and smelled like leather and sweat. Other bodily smells penetrated his senses, burning his eyes and making him drink water to rid himself of them but he could never name what they were exactly. Festering wounds often came to mind. Battle smells and dysentery. He was visiting a particularly nasty camp near the coast, wishing a sea breeze would blow away the stench. Hell, blow away the whole damn camp. Cassian was waking his way back to his command tent when he heard it.

Cassian you are so stupid sometimes.

He looked around, trying to find the source, it sounded like Nesta, but was also not her.

“Hello?” he called out into the darkness before his tent.

He listened closely, slowly pulling a dagger from his leathers, nothing was coming for him, he stalked over waiting for Mor to jump out at him, someone had to be playing a trick on him. Mor was the usual suspect, but as he was once again assaulted by the smell he ruled out Mor as an option. Maybe Azriel had sent Ceinwen, it was definitely a woman's voice.

No one was there.

He shook his head and decided he must have being knocked around one too many times today. Must have been a memory leaking through.

Rhysand had said he was caught up with “family business” in Velaris and needed him to straighten out Naragona and his camp. The Camp Lord was constantly getting into skirmishes with the other coastal leaders surrounding him and he was becoming a problem. Cassian had obliged, being commanded to spend time away from Nesta - meant it wasn’t his choice. It meant that she would forgive him if he asked to be forgiven. At least that’s what he hoped. He would tell her - I had to stay away, Rhys made me! He could hear it ringing false in his own ears. If he wanted to fix it he would have gotten out of this request.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted, his head was telling him one thing and his big heart another, damn the consequences. If only she would choose to let him in.

Pulling off his leathers, he sat down in front of a table and mirror, an ewer to the side with water to clean his face and arms, the smell lifted as he started scrubbing. The training rings here were mud pits, collecting blood and other unmentionable bodily fluids in their depths. Grabbing his soap he scrubbed at his face and looked at the lines starting to mark it. The laugh lines around his eyes looked strained, light scars started appearing as the filth was wiped away. How could she love someone like him.

I’m glad you like my taste.

“Nesta?” he turned and looked around. It felt like Nesta that time, it smelt like Nesta, like blood orange and midnight roses, like darkness with intoxicating spiced scents. The whole phrase felt like she was brushed up against him and whispering in his ear. He shook his head and rinsed the soap off.

“Cassian you are tired!” he told himself, pointing in the mirror to make his point. “Too much flying, you better get some sleep before you start thinking she’s in your bed.” Though he would never say no if she joined him in his. Maybe that was his answer. He would never say no to her if she really gave herself to him.

The days stretched on, he continued to play peacemaker. Traveling to the other Camps and then returning to the trouble maker’s at night. Ensuring he wasn’t sending out fresh Raiding parties. The first night Cassian had decided to stay away from the smell, the prick had sent a raiding party to a nearby camp.  

Illyrians flying in and stealing supplies while he was trying to enjoy a few drinks with one of the nicer captains. The rage had quickly enveloped him and he stabbed a few of the raiding party in places very close to causing permanent damage and preventing the sheep from adding to their flock. He held no guilt over his actions. Naragona was an asshole, a relentless prick, pushing the limits at every opportunity and pushing every single one of Cassian’s buttons. Cassian didn't even know if he would be able to leave them alone to go back to his regular duties. He was tempted to tie him up and leave him just below the high tide line, a slow punishment, or at least leave him with Devlon to watch, but Commander Cassian needed to get control of his troops even in peacetime. He would need to figure this out himself before it got out of hand.

Tonight he had sought escape. Close enough to watch the camp but far enough away that he could be alone. The sun was slowly moving across the Sky, Cassian was standing near the cliff edge, watching the creatures along the shore line emerging from their small nests and burrows, heading into the ocean to hunt for the evening. Sky changing hue behind the gathering clouds and streaking reds and oranges back towards the mountains. That Asshole didn't deserve to be near such beauty, he couldn’t appreciate the life all around him. The light that seemed to be in everything glowed, everything looked brighter today. Had it always been this beautiful in these mountains? It felt like for years they were just a shade of grey.

And then the light changed, he felt his heart skip a beat and the lighting just... changed. Something was wrong. He turned to the camp, fear was filling his body, a numbness moving from his heart out across all his limbs, he blinked but his eyes were deceiving him, the colours were all muted after being so stunningly bright only moments before. He wouldn't have believed it but the Sun set in grey tones before him. He was frozen or moving more slowly than everything around him. Even the night lacked its blue lustre and the stars weren’t lit up with colourful stardust, no pinks and purples were behind them.

His whole body felt frozen, like Nyx had brought her dark blanket and swept it across the world. He had felt this before in Hybern’s throne room. Was it just him? Had Hybern managed something they weren't ready for? He put his head in his hands, feeling like everything was in slow motion, maybe it was, was his heart even beating? Nesta?

Nesta!

It happened before. In the throne room, when he was on the floor, wings torn, paralysed, the room had gone dark, colour had bleed from the black and white room leaving only her in colour as she was pushed into the cauldron. Memories crashed over him. Wanting to reach out to her, to protect her. Her thrashing and fighting, clawing at her captors. Cassian’s own blood calling out to her. She had clawed and screamed her rage, black water splashing, and as she was pushed under one last time a curse was sent forth from her finger towards the king of Hybern. Then the silence stretched on. The water was still. There was no colour left, Cassian’s heart ached and he screamed her name.

Nesta! Are you ok?

Cassian was breathing heavily his fingers started to feel the warmth as his blood began flowing to his limbs again. Sitting on a rock near the cliff he was grateful he hadn't been too close to the edge, he could have easily toppled into the sea and rocks below. The memories had been overwhelming, he was re-living the worst day of his life. Nesta was dying in front of him again. Her mortal life extinguished.

Stretching leather clad fingers and curling them in his gloves he looked back up at the sky. Purple and pink stardust was splattered across the heavens, yellow, gold and white stars watching over him. He rubbed his eyes and stood. The colour had come back. Whatever had just happened he had never experienced it before - and it could never happen again. He needed to see Amren.

Tagged by request: Sorry if some of the urls are wrong.. its been a while since I updated this fic, urls have changed its been so long lol,  just let me know via ask if you want to be added or removed from my tag list for this. :) @fucking-winchester-trash @rhysanoodle @velarxs @lorcanswife @my-fan-side @wolffrising @bellsqueen @aelinashgalathynius@booksaremymate@themoonunderstoodmynightmares @prxthian @nessian-girl@fuzz-dog @archeron-queens @acotar-feels @wickedfangirl99 @empress-ofbloodshed@ame233 @tswaney17 @kefeira @rhysandsdarlingfeyre@abillionlittlepieces@ofstarsanddreams @booksaremymate@ambrosemiller@saltydreamcollector @imfandomtrash-vi @aedionashryver-wolfofthenorth @pinkjem30   @urbisie, @howtotameyourillyrian, @illyrianbeauty, @fae-queen-of-the-easton, @faeriequeenofthewest, @aqueentorattlestars, @acoaas @nephelle-warrior-scribe @librarian-of-orynth @anoverstuffedkindle, @miladyaelin, @acoaas, @tntwme @photofeesh @theyretheirthere