Gely being bluishly gay @gelyblue - Tumblr Blog

"Here, have a piece of my heart 🍰"

Happy Valentine's Day!

#the mandela catalogue #ruth weaver #mandela catalouge fanart #the mandela catalog fanart #valentines day #i just kinda wanted to draw smth w ruth so #i bet this cake is delicious tho #you gotta give it a try 🍰

gelyblue

Uh-oh, someone got you assimilated, Ruth!

Basically just an au where people can be turned into Alternates (the process called assimilation, I refer to it as asm for short) and Ruth was unfortunate enough to get in the way of a certain Alternate at the Murray household. Oh well, too bad for Thatcher

gelyblue

Hi everyone! So a while ago I started writing this one fic about the While I Breathe AU (and the Ruth in this post comes from it). If you're interested to learn more about it, you can go check it out!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59697982/chapters/152264254

#ruth weaver #the mandela catalogue #rip Thatcher #yes he's still very rip

Fair enough, you should have known better before pulling a similar thing to teach your once subordinate 🤷‍♂️ --- Or Ruth finally taking her revenge in Lucy's style (the one from the Rookie)

#the mandela catalogue #mandela catalouge fanart #ruth weaver #thatcher davis #the mandela catalog fanart #tmc fanart #just some general stuff w the two cops #no fr Thatcher should have thought abt it before pulling that stuff like what #10-15 years ago?? holy crap #but yeah Ruth likes to tease people in a kind way btw #she like got the vibes of this auntie that would pat you and give you a candy #so yeah that's the way she likes to pull pranks and jokes nothing violent

"ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀᴍᴀᴛʜ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇʟʟ ɪɴᴛᴇɴᴅs ᴛᴏ sᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴇ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs? ᴡᴇ ᴄᴏɴsᴏʟᴇ ᴏᴜʀsᴇʟᴠᴇs ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡʟᴇᴅɢᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴡᴏɴ’ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇᴀʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇss ʟᴇꜰᴛ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ."

#the mandela catalogue #mandela catalouge fanart #tmc fanart #ruth weaver #happy halloween #like she's feeling hella guilty abt letting ppl die #so the phone wire wrapped around her neck signifies the guilt for ignoring ppl's calls #also i was rewatching the mouthwashing while drawing this so you can tell it kinda influenced the final piece #im still surprised how well it turned out like wow

(I think I kinda failed the Writober, may as well try to continue it after dealing with study hh) Heeyyyy soo ik I haven't posted in a while but I saw this alt Ruth fic on ao3 (which reminded me that girl, you got like- 2 aus, and 2 sub-aus, that got alt Ruth) so decided to post this sketch of btl Ruth ref I drew not so long ago. Basically now Ruth became an Observer and later was accidentally found by Thatcher so they live together at his house, dealing with the Alternate invasion while Ruth is pretty much dead to this world. P.s.: Oh, and that's the only au the two are engaged at all (but in the other two they're friends, sub-aus included ✌️)

#the mandela catalogue #ruth weaver #btl au #mandela catalouge fanart #the mandela catalog fanart #btw the reason why her lower part is shadowy is due to the spine part #like it got split in half so as an observer she got it all shadowy down the break point #sry for the quality idk how to improve it #maybe will color ruth tho

Day 3. No more arguments left [TT WIB AU Ruth & Thatcher]

That was it.

As Ruth stared down at the half-smoked cigarette she was holding between her fingers gently, she realised she had nothing to say back. There were no words, no statements, or anything to convince Thatcher her idea wasn’t as bad as it could seem. Yet he was right.

She couldn’t deny that despite having gone through it once and knowing a thing or two about handling it, he had a point, maybe even more. Just enough to prove her suggestion horribly wrong. Fuck, even she knew how terrible it was, but it had to be done. There was no other way around, not without ensuring the two of them make it out together, alive.

“I know what you may be thinking,” Thatcher spoke up, making Ruth flinch and nearly drop the cigarette, having forgotten how human bodies even worked. She looked up to him as he continued after taking a drag out of his own cigarette. “That you’ve been through this so it has to be fine this time. But we do know it might as well ruin our plans for everything. Didn’t you mention Alternates got, like, hivemind?” He asked and shifted his gaze to her.

Ruth nodded and pressed her lips tightly, avoiding the gaze. She still couldn’t get over it, and her heart still ached. “I mean, as long as you keep those out of mind, you should be safe. Not to mention Alternates barely give two shits about each other, so just gotta stay low.” She explained and inhaled some smoke.

Thatcher hummed at that, perhaps considering her words. It wasn’t like he didn’t know, though. He had been haunting her for years onwards, of course he would know everything about being an Alternate. “But what if they’ll be aware now? I doubt the higher powers, that thing included, wouldn’t remember anything from the previous time. So that may be putting everything at risk.”

“And nothing is worth it, I know. Heard and saw it far too many times.” Ruth exhaled, going over every single encounter with this phrase, still being able to recall the robotic voice repeating it over and over again, engraving itself into her memory. “But what else can we do? What else can we do to prevent this? It’s not like we can avoid that call or spend the rest of our lives in fear.” She asked and forced herself to glance at Thatcher, perhaps hoping he’d have the solution or give any idea. Alas, his face told a different story, the brow furrowed in contemplation.

“That- I don’t know yet.” Ruth sighed upon hearing this and stared down at the ground. “But we…we’ll figure it out, okay? Just- don’t make any rash decisions yet. We both know it’s not something you want” Thatcher promised as she nodded along, unable to deny the fact that he was right, again.

Ruth slowly took out another drag out of her cigarette and looked away.

Apparently, they both had no more arguments left.

#the mandela catalogue #ruth weaver #thatcher davis #wib au #tt wib au #like they just travelled back in time to fix the past mistakes #thats p much all to this au #i havent rlly thought it thru so just 2 prompts #also sry for posting it late-ish aaahh

Day 2. Ringing in the ear [BTL AU]

Oh no. Not again. Not fucking again.

It was following him. He could tell. That damn thing was right behind him. It was always behind him. No matter where he went. Whatever he did. It was always there. It never failed to catch up with him. Maybe not too obvious like before. Maybe not too close too. But he could feel it.

Its gaze. It always bore holes. And they hurt. They always fucking hurt. But not physically, no. There were no wounds after all. Yet his mind never shut up. It was persuaded. It thought he was deceived. That he was hallucinating it all. Just going insane like he had to. Helping it finish this fucking game.

There wasn’t much left to do. Just grab it. Just raise it. Just pull it. That’s it. That’s simple. He just needed to be brave. Needed to stop being a coward. That was what led him here. That was what killed her. That was what fucking ruined everything.

But he couldn’t. He was too scared. Of course he was. He couldn’t be anything else. Just a scared boy with a gun. A fucking coward. Never a hero.

But didn’t he have someone? Didn’t she wait for him? Why would she? Didn’t she tell him otherwise? She never would. Didn’t she reassure him it was fine? She still looked hurt. Didn’t she hug him at night? She always did it tightly. Didn’t she stay awake to protect him? She didn’t have a reason to.

But did he have a choice? He had already let her in. He already got an Alternate at home. So did it even matter?

Maybe. He didn’t know. Not now. Not with this ringing. Not with the pounding. Not with a short breath. It was overwhelming.

He struggled. He tried to breathe. Tried to pull in air. But it was too tight. Too loud. Too fucking much.

Was it what she felt? Was it the way she died? Desperate for air. Desperate for fucking life. Did he even deserve one? Perhaps not.

But he didn’t want to die. He had to get to safety first. At least out of its sight. Or away from it. Somewhere he could be safe. Somewhere he could feel so.

He had to get home.

But his legs. He couldn’t move. They were too weak. Too wobbly. They felt like cotton. But he was close. Just a few more steps. A few more steps to get home. To get to safety. That’s. Fucking. It.

Thatcher didn’t remember when he got to the front door. He didn’t remember how he knocked on the door. How his legs gave up the second a familiar face opened it. How the gentle, familiarly warm arms caught him. How they held him tightly.

But they were safe. They meant the safety he needed now. He could trust them. So he held onto them, and they held onto him back too.

He was finally home. Finally safe. Finally with her.

#the mandela catalogue #thatcher davis #ruth weaver #kinda she's also just mentioned here lol #btl au #idk how to write frantic chars like #hopefully this one isn't too much out of character #writober #between the life au

gelyblue

Day 1. No sleep allowed [BTL AU]

Ruth never liked nights. As a kid, she hated them for putting an end to her games, and back in her teens she always wished she’d had more time to get all the things done. Even after joining the police, doing night patrolling or working overtime meant drinking gallons of coffee to keep herself awake, for the amount of work could get a little overwhelming every now and then.

However, now she hated nights for how quiet they were. For the way this house felt so empty and lifeless whenever Thatcher went to sleep — which she never judged him for though, having worked with the man side by side for years now — leaving her to entertain herself with whatever her mind could come up with, most of the time opting for staying in his room.

For the way something would tap on the window, not having a particular pattern, with taps either getting more frequent or going silent for what felt like hours before making a return.

For the way her ears would pick up the scratching sound at the front door, barely audible for a human yet never quietly enough, as if to make the said human believe they must be going crazy.

For the way her skin would crawl whenever that something made it inside, whenever its steps pronounced all around the house, whenever it stopped right before the door to his room, merely standing there and doing nothing.

For the way a knot in her chest — perhaps in place of the heart she had long since lost — would go so tight she could barely breathe, shallowly inhaling the air her nonexistent lungs were begging for but never releasing it, lest it woke up the human.

For the way her whole being was shaking over the fact that, despite knowing it was doing this on purpose, Ruth could never tell which one of them was the target of its actions. Thatcher, who was human and had been under immense stress caused by long-lasting M.A.D. and public pressure, or her, whose humanity was ripped out back at that house and fear was made known to the thing.

And this uncertainty both frustrated and terrified her. It was aware she cared for Thatcher. It fucking knew how scared she was of losing him, and it would take advantage of that. It would never hesitate to keep her up at night time after time, steadily driving her insane, if that was even possible anymore.

It would always stay here. It would always make its presence obvious to her. It would always be there to remind her this game would go on for as long as eternity could be, or until she or Thatcher finally broke down, for it never intended to leave as a loser.

She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning the head against the soft bed to listen to Thatcher’s shallow breathing and the familiar tapping on the window.

Ruth never liked nights, and perhaps never would.

gelyblue

Okay so a bit of an explanation to the au I haven't presented yet! The name's Between the Life AU, and there's a new type of Alternate, sort of. You see, when a human gets killed by an Alternate, and have some will to survive and live on, instead of being trapped as ghosts or going to Heaven, they're condemned to living as Observers, aka some sorta Alternate subtype, which means they can be doppelganger, unspeakable or flawed impersonators, some looking more human than the others, even retaining memories or personality bits here and there, but they all have one thing in common: they can't talk. Or rather they can, but once they speak up they'll give a human M.A.D., driving them to offing themselves in most cases. So, they can only watch from afar, unable to properly communicate with people.

#i do hope this explanation makes sense cuz i came up w it on spot #like ruth got kinda killed and now she lives w thatcher cuz shes dead to the world #therere also some other observers but ye imma introduce them later #have a nice day tho!