#battleshipgarcy

[patientlibrarian]

Saturday April 19 2025 - Garcy Saturday

In these difficult times I consider it my mission to provide a daily reminder of someone truly gorgeous.

Hello everyone, everywhere, hope your future days will be as you would wish them to be in these chaotic times.

I post every day, usually before 10am GMT (UK time) so please join me again. Find me on AO3 for all my stories.

[qqueenofhades]

I will always attempt to prod you for new Garcy content, so, here's hoping this speaks to you 😂 (also happy belated birthday! <- my Tumblr wasn't working properly on you big day, and didn't let me send you a HBD greeting then, so I'm doing it now) 🥳

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Garcy

41. Don't look back

The New England night is rank with cold, with the briny scent of the distant sea, with woodsmoke and creosote, tar and turpentine, hay and mud. Lucy stands with her arms crossed, her coat drawn tightly over her shoulders, staring out at the dark woods that stretch endlessly beyond this simple farmhouse on the edge of Boston -- in the year 1880, a fast-growing industrial city, thronged with largely-Irish immigrants, strung up with newfangled electric lights and trolley cars, steamships moored at the docks, but still straining at the old Pilgrim bones beneath, forced to accept all this modernity at a blow. In other circumstances, she would almost like the chance to look around. Not, however, as if that is going to happen. Now or ever.

She shivers harder. She can still feel the wind cutting right through her, and surely it's her imagination that it's not just a figure of speech, that she's becoming more and more insubstantial, never-existing, by the moment. She feels dreamy, almost comfortable, the sort of lulling reverie you slip into when you're on the brink of freezing to death and it feels downright pleasant. She looks down at her hands, tries to see if she can see through them to the ground. It would be just, perhaps. It would be the only outcome.

Just then, there's a particularly loud commotion in the farmhouse behind her, and she turns around sharply. She hasn't been paying attention to the low-level clamor -- the shouts, the shots, the smashing, the screaming, the sort that would attract the neighbors if there were any in range. As it is, there aren't, and that too is all by design. She stands here, a cold and merciless goddess, listens to men die inside, and feels... nothing. Her mother has, in the end, done her job too well. Carol Preston dutifully raised her daughters in Rittenhouse, trained Lucy to be the heiress, the crown princess, and now it's playing out exactly as she intended, with one devastating little twist. It's Rittenhouse dying in there, all of them, or at least Lucy so badly hopes. All her ancestors, her great-grandfathers and uncles and whatever else, and that means that when they get back to the present day (if they get back to the present day), there is a very good chance that she will never have existed at all. Will be a revenant, a time-ghost, a relic from another timeline who has nothing left at all, no root to her old life, and not even anyone else's memories. Hell, she might just wink out on the spot, a twisted paradox too contradicted to exist. Is it worth it? Can anything possibly be worth this?

Yes, Lucy thinks. Her face is stone, her eyes are dry, she does not weep a single tear. Yes, it is.

At last, the banging and blasting falls silent. Ruthlessly effective as he is, Garcia Flynn is far from subtle. There's a long moment in which Lucy panics, thinking that they managed to strike a lucky blow, that he's gone too, but then he emerges, tall and dark and shadowed, his suit sleeves spattered in blood. He looks at her and doesn't say a word. Just goes to his knees in front of her (even so, he's still almost as tall as she is) and holds out the gun, a medieval knight pledging his sword to the service of his lady. At last, his voice half a whisper in the wind, he says, "It's done."

Lucy shivers from head to toe. She looks down at him and doesn't answer. Yes, her ancestors might all be dead now, but there's still no guarantee that Rittenhouse has been erased, root and branch. One of them might have left a pregnant wife somewhere, or a secret mistress with a love child, or all the other ways history contorts around on itself to protect its continuity. She could have done all this, live with the knowledge of it forever, and still failed. Flynn might have gone in there to kill her whole family, but Lucy is the one who brought him here.

(What would she have done, if they hadn't found each other? Who would she be? Carol's perfect little Rittenhouse princess, just as planned? Not this, this Salem witch, hands dripping with blood just as much as Flynn's. It's only on his because she asked him to do it, and he agreed. That's love, she supposes. A twisted and dark and desperate version, but still love. He is the only thing she has.)

"Flynn." Lucy doesn't recognize her own voice. "Please. Get me out of here. Get me out of here."

Flynn considers, then nods once. He lifts her halfway, arms around her waist; as ever, her weight is completely negligible to him. It's going to be a long walk back to the Mothership, where Rufus is waiting nervously. When they get in, the jump very well might not work, as long as Lucy is in there. The space-time continuum might reject traveling back with an alien entity, an erased object. She might have to get out and stay in 1880 forever, the price of removing Rittenhouse in the present. Is she ready to do that? Can she stand it? Or will she just simply evanesce away?

"Flynn," she starts again, shaking, her face buried in his shoulder. He walks quickly, but somehow without hurrying. The wool of his jacket smells of lamp-oil and fresh blood. "Flynn, I'm not going to be able to come back, not if I don't -- "

"Yes." He sounds calm, certain, cold as the snow. "You're going to be fine, Lucy. Rufus will figure it out. You'll come home with us."

"But back there -- " Lucy twists, tries to peer over his shoulder, to look back at the dark farmhouse where Rittenhouse has, pray God, finally met its utmost end. "If you -- "

"Shh." Flynn's grip tightens on her. "Don't look back, Lucy. It's all right. Trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you."

It's a deeply ironic utterance, considering what he just did to her whole family (on her express invitation, but still) and how their relationship started, but she does. She trusts him. She holds onto him with both hands. Don't look back. Like Lot's wife fleeing from Sodom, unable to resist the curse, transmogrified into salt. There are tears on her cheeks. She tastes it on her lips. She doesn't know who she's crying for. It seems impossible for it to be her.

Don't look back.

Lucy buries her face in Flynn's neck again, and does not.

[titanicnerd-blog]

#timeless #garcy #garciaflynn #i’m addicted #yes I know this fandom ended 4 years ago  #i regret nothing. #credit to battleshipgarcy for the image

[princessamerigocreations]

Christmas started early for me this year, and I'm so very happy!

@BattleshipGarcy made a wonderful fanart for my fanfic Steam! (Which was inspired by one of her fics, anyway) I'm so so happy and grateful! She is the best!

You can find Steam here. https://archiveofourown.org/works/14861466

[detnylaharper]

[patientlibrarian]

SHADES/SMILE/SCRUFF SUNDAY

In these difficult times I consider it my mission to provide a daily reminder of someone truly gorgeous.

Hello everyone, everywhere, hope your future days will be as you would wish them to be in these chaotic times.

You will see on the next page a re-blog of Battleship Garcy’s announcement of the move of all of her fansites to a static position.

Whilst I am pleased that I was able to contribute to keep the sites online to 2027, this is still an extremely sad day for so many of us. I am very grateful that so much of Goran Visnjic’s work in general and the “Timeless” TV Series in particular have been so well documented. There aren’t enough “thank you’s”.

💐👏

[patientlibrarian]

Monday March 10 2025

Hello everyone, everybody, it's nice to be back after a something of a health scare and accompanying issues.

I've had a bit of time to think about the ''Timeless'' TV series and although I have frequently vehemently denied it, I have now to admit that the ''Timeless'' fandom is now down to a few very devout fans. As with these fans it is my intention to carry on my blog featuring the series and Goran Visnjic and all that he has done and will do in the future.

Few fans seem to be writing ''Timeless'' stories and fewer seem to be reading them at the moment but I will carry on with my story writing as much as I can, although health issues may now get in the way occasionally.

I will continue to support all the Battleship Garcy fan sites, the first stop for everything 'Goran'. I must apologise to her for not being able to be one of the first to comment on her latest two stories. I am attending to this.

Enough with the chatter and on with Goran.

I see tickets for "Equinox" at the Dubrovnik Festival 2025 are selling well. Only 149 days to go!

Wouldn't this have been fantastic?

from: loveboatinsanity.com

Something else light/loving/gorgeous (did I mention scruff?!) for another ghastly week when who knows what will happen.

From gv-archive.com👇Marco Constante just about echoing how we all feel at the moment.

Here something really sweet I found when going through my picture files. Goran actually being the 'fan' and obviously thrilled to be on the set of "Stargate", a favourite programme of his. More details I do not have.

I hope your future days will be as you would wish them to be in these chaotic times.

[patientlibrarian]

Now that is handsome!

And these scenes in this episode drive me wild!

Flynn Friday

Hello everyone, everywhere it's "Flynn Friday". Hope your day goes as you would wish it to.