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convolutedelucidation · 10 months

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Born into this cold world

Without a hand to hold

Rejected and neglected

Until my soul was sold.

I just want to cry

But I feel nothing inside

Used to feel alive

Now life is suffering.

Iniquity and injustice

Trouble and strife

My trust has been broken

I hate this hopeless life.

Broken open as a child

Was free and running wild

Stuck down from the sky

Fell down into the mire.

I spend my day’s here wandering

Pondering what could have been

Ever hoping it’ll all be over

Barely coping, comatose.

Overdose on poison

Throw reason out with caution

As I take my portion

Deep remorse grows for,

Everything I’ve done

Against the Holy one

The payout that I’ve won

Paid the price, sacrifice.

My judgment day will come

Where all will be undone

Eternal return, burning

Yearning for the son.

Turning over trees

Dropping all the leaves

Can’t believe what has become

This person I call me.

Swallowed by disease

Hollow and empty

Resigned and numb

I wish I wasn’t dumb.

I wish I could start over

Please just one more attempt

I promise I’ll do better

Yet the promise’s never kept.

Please just one more try

I’ll be crying for the rest of my life.

Drowning and depressed

Wasted all the grace

I used to feel blessed

Made everything a mess.

And I can’t face the day

I can’t face myself

Just want to look away

This life’s a lost cause.

Throw everything to waste

Disgraceful pain, my payback

Silent suffering, covered

Hidden from the intimate.

The structure has been ruptured

My heart has been crushed

The sky is falling

The world is burning

Everyone’s crazy

And I am alone

No one hears it

No one sees it

No one even believes me.

All this sin and waging war

Lying to my stolen core

Nothing inside

No one home

Everyone dies

And I will always be alone.

You don’t know me

You don’t see me

You don’t care

You wouldn’t want to be me.

Life ain’t pretty

And nothing’s sweet

Devil on my shoulder

Ever mocking me.

Please man,

We need you.

Please please please

Let me be.

Left it behind

Back of my mind

Another time

No peace I find

Everywhere

Without a care

Without the love

Our given share

All too scared

And no one cares

Hurt and despair

Spread all through the air.

We breathe it in

Can’t leave the sin

This position

We’re living in.

The world around

It breaks you down

You think you’re found

Another round.

You’re just a clown

A nothing to no one

A stillbirth

The onion

Wooden spoons and

Deflated balloons

A puddle on the ground.

Lie down

Give up

You never had a chance anyway

It was always going to be this way.

You couldn’t see it

Now you say

Hoping for a brighter day.

Hope that keeps you open

Never to deliver

And yet it keeps you coping

Something you’ll consider.

Choking on a fish bone

Washed upon the shore

Living like a vagabond

Knocking on the door.

Curl up by the fireside

Have a smoke and drink your wine

Crying on the inside

The love never came.

We never change

It always stays the same

And this is the game

That everyone’s playing.

No seasons pass

Nothing grows

Stuck inside this jail cell

Throw myself away.

Throw it in the water

Take me far away

Way beyond the border

Away from this life.

Above the pain and suffering

Lift me up above the clouds

Restore the law and order

The providence of whence I came.

I am the evidence of shame

I am the man crying

The whole world has let me down.

Haven’t smiled in a while

This face it holds a frown

This head I hold

Feels heavy and old

Don’t want to carry it around.

If I could bother

To be other

I would kill myself aloud.

My selfish self conscious self satisfying soul

Go down to the gallows

Bury myself whole.

There’s a hole in my head

And soon I’ll be dead

But who knows if they’ll be better.

I tried to repent

I tried to be gentle

But it’s better if I were never.

Never here

Never lived

Never breathed

Never existed.

Look at me thwarted, warped and twisted

A compromised life

Manipulated till I broke

Cracked the shell when I fell

And they scrambled the yolk.

It’s all been a grand joke

And I just want to elope

To those distant shores

Of nevermore

Where I can sleep in peace and smoke.

High all the time

Fine in divine

Responsibilities lifted from my shoulders

Won’t have to feel this heart grow colder

As my energy just dissipates

And my body disintegrates

Languishing, feel astray

Banished from the family

Passed down all the hurt to me

Scape goat for the masses

Stuck in thick molasses

Whipped till blood poured open

Bearing it all, hoping

Lifeless, limp and sloping

Slumped into a ball

I can’t get away from it all

Trapped inside these civil walls

Social bonds and conscience calls

I want to get away from it all

But it follows wherever I go.

No I don’t understand

And I don’t make plans

Things are out of hand

And I am damned.

Lost the grace I once was gifted

Took a bite and the world shifted

Never could ever I have known

This person into whom I’ve grown.

I didn’t have the premonition

Used to laugh at superstition

Never could I have ever imagined

The fallout from all of my actions

Could snowball and catapult

Me into this dimension

Stranded with no chance of redemption

Intercepted by an intervention

All with such good intentions

I remain here

Demented

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sortasirius · 4 years

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“Carry On” and...Yikes.

Well clowns, looks like the clown calls were coming from inside the house this entire time.

I so desperately wish I wasn’t writing this right now. I so wish that I could be writing something better, something joyful, something happy about this fifteen year journey with these characters. It seems as though the show had other ideas, so in we go.

So...the dog was cool. Also interesting that Dean was back to his breakup/grieving coping mechanisms: not making his bed, messy room, beer all over the place, Sam making breakfast, etc.

So I guess I better just start off with how...off this episode felt in regards to Dean specifically. Idk why he suddenly wanted a dog and Sam had no real interest in one, since the opposite has been true for, idk, fifteen years, but whatever, I was willing to let it go.

I thought the pie thing was a sweet scene, it was funny and nice and a good button on Dean’s pie thing.

Weird to, you know, bring up Cas and not mention his tragic ass deal and why he got got, but whatever.

I cannot physically believe that this MOTW aspect was, quite literally, so much of the plot. Like...we figured that it was going to be an aspect, but for it to be SO MUCH? Bruh. I am such a fucking fool lmfao.

Again, cool to see Cas’ coat in the back. Too bad it wasn’t addressed.

Jenny. Bitch. Come on. Of ALL the villains in the FIFTEEN YEARS of Supernatural. Jenny. Who was in....one....episode. Ok.

I mean that line about the high school thing was funny, I did laugh at that moment. Fuck I love Dean Winchester.

I cannot believe I specced so much about the barn scene. Are y’all telling me that “The Night We Met” is being claimed by......Sam and Dean. Fuck off.

I mean, I thought Dean was going to die, and the scene actually did play out pretty similarly to how I thought. It was probably the most powerful moment in the episode. I am very glad that it was Dean’s choice, his choice and his peace to let go.

“Let me look at you. There he is. I am so proud of you, Sam.”

I do love this, I love this because Dean is able to look at his work, the man that he raised, and tell him these things. He was Sam’s parent, he raised Sam into the man he is today, and he should be damn proud of that.

I do love this most of scene, I really do, I love my boys, these brothers so damn much, and at least, at the very least, I have this scene of them.

Forehead touch was weird, I’m just gonna say it.

I feel like most of this episode was montages lol. I mean I always hate sad Sam but at this point I still fully felt like we were going to get closure and we just...didn’t.

The Austin number was a cool detail, I liked that bc I picked up on it right away (since, you know, my phone is a 512 number lmao).

What a lackluster goodbye to the Bunker. I had no clue that was going to be the last time we saw it ever.

FUCK AT LEAST I GOT MY DAMN HEAVEN BAR.

The scene with Bobby was nice, it was good to see him. We did get our remade Heaven, that’s also nice to know.

“It ain’t just Heaven, Dean. It’s the Heaven you deserve.”

He does deserve this. An open Heaven, the people he loves, finally some peace, he deserves that, and I am glad that he got it.

Our second Cas mention. Great. Thanks guys.

I mean thanks Jim and Jensen for the microexpressions I guess lmao.

So I am supposed to believe. That Dean. Whose entire arc has been speaking his truth, specifically speaking his truth to Cas. Where he has been stopped twice before this season. Is going to just drive around in circles for forty years until Sam gets there? Yeah, that’s gonna be a no from me, dawg.

And Sam gets married and has a kid that he names Dean, and the unspecified dark haired woman in the back of the ten minute montage is supposed to be enough for me to buy that it’s Eileen? Bruh.

Also it’s BACK TO BACK MONTAGES??? WITH TWO VERSIONS OF CARRY ON WAYWARD SON?

Sam’s age makeup???? Hello???? AT FIRST THEY DIDN’T EVEN AGE HIM THEY JUST PUT HIM IN A WIG?????

That cover of Wayward Son did slap but was it enough? No.

Even that bridge moment didn’t hit right because Sam didn’t cross it? He was just suddenly there.

It just fucking sucks. It sucks that their reunion doesn’t land right because they...didn’t do anything when they were apart. Sam had his kid sure but Dean literally just drove around. No mention of Cas or of Eileen. Nothing. So the last moment of this show I love feels tainted and hollow and just wrong.

It sucks. I’m not going to lie. But the worst thing about it? Is that it doesn’t make any sense. I have not spent two years of my life picking apart the writing rooms in Supernatural, lauding this current team for what they’ve accomplished for it to end like this. I know many of you will regard me as a complete tinhat freak right now, but this, to me, does not feel like an episode that Andrew Dabb wrote. Hell, it doesn’t feel like an episode of Supernatural.

None of the arcs were completed: Dean didn’t get to speak his truth to Cas, Sam never got to become the leader, the legacy hunter he was meant to. We don’t see them with Cas or Eileen, we don’t even hear about them.

Listen, there’s a lot that...simply doesn’t add up to me. First of all, the episode was SHORT, and most of it was montages. They had four montages AND the episode was only 38 minutes. The series finale of the show was shorter than any other episode and had four multiple minute montages. Okay. Make it make sense. Newsflash: it doesn’t, there is simply no way I can believe that there weren’t massive cuts and reworks done to this episode on an executive level.

I know there are people who will tell me that the writers are just bad and I need to accept that they gave me a shitty ending, but after all this time with this story, especially with Dabb’s arc, he just...doesn’t do shit like this. His arcs are always complete, always tied up well, always have a button. But this mess? This confusing episode that left everything hanging with a cover of Wayward Son hanging in the air? It just doesn’t add up to me.

This wasn’t the story they were telling, this hasn’t been the story they were telling all season, and I stand by that.

So, I sure do wish I could give you a better post. I wish that we had gotten something better. I still, after everything, love this show, and will still be here in the morning.

Thanks guys. Love y’all.

#my meta #supernatural #spn writers #spoilers #spn 15x20 #spn #this was upsetting to write but hey i knew i had to

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generallypo · 4 years

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in all sincerity, kim dokja makes me happy and he deserves to be so too :^(

incoherent yelling and sobbing under the cut. these fEELINGS will not be contained aaauuunnghhh.

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anyway i binge-read all 500+ chapters of ORV this week and i honest to god feel bad for this -- completely! fictional! aghhhh -- guy. in case you haven’t figured it out, the following is some spoilerly shit

i went in expecting a fun, brainless power trip fantasy for dudes with an isekai addiction. instead, it turns out ORV is actually a gigantic, self-deprecating prank on the entire genre itself. kdj plays more into the sad -- if high-functioning-- clown trope than the sexy, edgy, chuuni bastard type i was prepared to laugh at. there were -- gasp! -- female characters with personalities! parents (aka ADULTS who act like ADULTS) who actually survive and feature prominently! adorable children! a real sexy, edgy bastard! a power trio with amazing fashion! sexual tension and bickering! friendship! life and death bonding!

*breathes in deeply* fouND FAMILYYYYYYY.

like, yeah, the plot around the first few arcs seems a little aimless, but the buildup is worth. the world-building is pretty decent. there’s discernible effort put into the fight scenes, and i can appreciate that. but -- but! what i stayed for were the characters -- namely, the fantastic OT3 of KDJ, HSY, and YJH -- who come together despite their initial rivalries and end up saving each other’s asses, like, every other day. granted, the other characters don’t get as much focus, and they do fall into certain character tropes..

but a trope done well is nothing i would gripe about. every significant character in ORV has a coherent, and more importantly, respectful take on their respective trope. maybe it’s because sing-shong is actually a married couple, but all the interactions between even minor characters are a convincing blend of awkward rambling, suggestive humor, sharp remarks, and casual banter. in other words, this cast of mostly working adults (plus a teen and two kids) talks like working adults. the relationships built throughout the story are, frankly, some of most realistic of its genre. sing-shong has managed to craft a dynamic that undoubtedly brims with fluffy fondness all around, but also drips with sarcastic tension, with unspoken urgency, with a wariness that softens into sincerity over the course of many, many chapters. it’s the kind of progression that makes even stock characters read like more than just the 2-bit villain or comrade or love interest. here, we have relationships both straightforward and not, strained or otherwise, romantically-oriented as well as decidedly the opposite -- and then numerous others scattered along the spectrum with the freedom to shift either way.

it’s also an interesting point of note that our MC kdj actually does not end up with a stated romantic partner, much less a conventional heteroromantic harem. he gets teased about that fact from time to time, but it’s with less of the sleazy shonen locker room humor one would expect and more of the good-natured ribbing you’d find among friends or that one especially nosy auntie at the yearly family reunion. kdj is a grown ass man. in the background, i applaud his maturity, and he handles all the prodding like a champ.

so instead of finding and fulfilling his horny, he builds himself a wealth of loving family. yeah, there are beautiful men and women around him. yeah, they unequivocally adore him. but they’re also adults, and they have priorities, too -- which are not so much finding a way to bang kdj’s brains out and more so simply keeping the damn guy alive. this is truly not ‘oblivious mc with his thirsty, sex kitten harem’. it just so happens that a guy proves himself to be unflinchingly gentle and capable in an apocalyptic setting despite his broken self-esteem, and lots of people find that attractive, romantically and platonically.

it.. kinda makes sense? he’s a hard worker, thoughtful, and good with kids. kdj is the kind of guy you know would make a reliable partner, and anybody with eyes can plainly see and appreciate that.

and it’s not that our MC’s a total brick wall. in fact, it’s likely the opposite, and he’s just too darned repressed to admit it. from what has been implied, kdj does indeed recognize and accept love, or at least a primitive concept of it. i like to imagine that the kind of love that he ends up seeking out simply manifests itself more easily as acceptance and safety, as warmth and a home of people to return to every day. even better, the people who surround him know this, and they give him exactly that. it’s refreshing, and honestly, really sweet.

(as a side note, i really, really do appreciate the cosmic bi energy radiating off of kdj, who canonically earns the title of being loved by all and is all but in name married to yjh and hsy. he also respects women and small children and honestly anyone who isn’t total scum to him or his family. i respect that.)

but the happy stuff aside, you know it it just ain’t ORV without the generous screaming dollop of angst. admittedly, there’s self-sacrifice, injury, lonesome wandering, more sacrifice, some epic fighting, reunion and confrontation. all of it is a lot to digest, sure, but never does it feel entirely hopeless, or truly, truly heart-clenching. ORV, up until the final act, is a mostly light read. you relax in your chair, thinking that nothing beyond this point can disturb you.

yeah fucking right.

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and then the beginning of the end arrives. when the squad finally break through to their ‘ending’, the scene that kind of breaks me is the reveal of the Most Ancient Dream. it ties so much thematically into the little tidbits that we get of kdj’s past, and it though it feels like almost a joke that the source of the goddamn apocalypse is a kid with bruises smeared across his skinny ass body -- it’s such a pathetic picture that it’s kinda poetic, actually. you’re left mystified but somewhat convinced, like a math problem explained halfway through. this.. child.. is a villain somehow, isn’t he?

and then 999th turn uriel speaks up, and she. just. hugs him.

[[You are this universe’s most powerless existence, aren’t you.]]

that. that gets me. kdj’s reaction immediately upon this revelation? absolute murder. seeing him essentially self-destruct upon realizing that all these people he’s surrounded himself with -- some who continuously proclaim their loyalty and affection for him throughout their journey, some who suffered eons of war and loss and trauma because of his existence -- not only forgive his younger self but smother him with unconditional acceptance and love is stifling, is too vulnerable and exposed and he simply can’t cope -- it’s so telling of his true mentality, of his crippling insecurity and crumpled sense of self-worth. kim dokja is a liar, through and through, so much that he fails, or perhaps refuses, to comprehend the veracity of others’ kindness and love towards himself.

by some miracle, the events at the end of the world somehow resolve.. or so it seems. there is a departing train, a liberated team of ex-gods, and a child rousing from his slumber. in the aftermath, i am left shaking. somehow, despite the ending having been (happily?) reached, there’s still another chapter ahead. what is this witchcraft?

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and then ah, yes -- the epilogue arc. i teetered on the edge of being critical for a little bit there -- is that display of deus ex machina, of sad, self-sacrificing nobility a bit too egregious to be acceptable? is this some wild last let-me-yank-this-outta-my-ass plot twist to drag out the chapter count? i sincerely thought that the arc before it would have been the finale. i was wrong. thank god.

anyways, as an answer to the above: no, and no. i stake my firm claim on the belief that the epilogue arc was meticulously planned out well in advance of its release, confusing and time-warpy as it is. i liked it. tremendously. even if it entirely invalidates all of kdj’s supposed development (”haha lol yeah sure i won’t sacrifice myself or anything anymore guys don’t worry about me” -- KDJ, at some point because he’s a lying rat bastard). actually, our beloved MC disappears for a large chunk of this arc, and i think it’s great. in his absence, the other characters not only go absolutely fucking nuts, but they have to figure out this new problem on their own, even if the lure of peaceful complacency in the newly saved Korea might convince them otherwise.

and then the whole time paradox thing comes around. yjh goes to space, hsy saves the only life she can, and kdj grows up. the crew waits, holding onto their hope even if it bleeds them dry. sing-shong does a damn good job of illustrating their fraying calm, their lurking madness, the unseen but pervasive depression that seeps in from kdj’s absence. the kids lose their father, lhs and jhw lose their reliable leader figure, ysa loses a best friend and confidant, lsk -- as distant as she pretends to be from her son -- loses her only child. and then there’s hsy and yjh , who are essentially bereft of the other half of their existences. their pain is palpable, is grounded in the hopeless, gnawing frustration of an utterly meaningless victory. emotionally, ORV hits all the right -- if agonizing -- beats.

however, a story can’t sustain itself just through its pathos. i’m happy to say that ORV doesn’t drop the ball after the first milestone, and after all the hurt, the characters do leap straight back into action. even better, the plot holes actually do get patches, and the poetic cycle of writer, protagonist, and reader comes full circle by making use of all those supposedly throwaway characters from the myriad world lines.

at the end of the road, there is a distinct sense of unity, of a delicate but undeniable cohesion to the world lines and their origins. sing-shong lets us guess a little here at the finish, but there’s just enough information to feel hopeful. maybe there never had been a definite start -- or finish -- to the story of kdj company, and... that’s okay. everybody ends up where they were meant to be, where they fought and struggled to reach. it’s.. almost like a happily ever after, if we’re allowed to dream of that.

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now, i realize, this was all an orchestrated maneuver.

i’ll take it.

to me, all of this work sounds like someone put some serious thought into this behemoth of a plot. it cements the entire original premise of the story. it suggests -- but never explicitly confirms! -- the possibility that breaking free of the cycle is possible through the exact same system that sustains it. it’s terribly interesting -- and inspirational! with all the dramatic revelations and life-threatening scenarios and the cast’s resigned acceptance of them that essentially make up ORV’s entire mood, there’s still that last hint of rebellious and righteous anger that lights up the whole damn nebula. it’s like the kdj company blasting away at the heavens just to yell into the nether: we’re not looking for the happy end, but the free one. stay alive.

it’s subtle, and yet it’s such an emotional gut punch. i came away with the most ruinous, frustrating, bittersweet sense of longing in ages. i pined. for these fictional darlings. god, i am weak.

so. yeah. ORV is pretty good. flawed, but ambitious and impressively thought out. i’m stoked that the webtoon is making pretty good progress, even if it’ll take an eternity and a half to meet that monstrous chapter count. i’m still gonna follow it. hell yeah.

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(by the way the idea that secretive plotter and co are literally gonna take care of and raise baby kdj and spoil him and be the best friggin family a kid could ever want does things to me. protect him. he’s suffered too much. let at least one worldline’s version of him know happiness. and actually, aLL OF THEM DESERVE DOMESTIC BLISS TOGETHER IN A BIG OL MANSION WITH SUN AND FRESH AIR AND TENDER FAMILY MOMENTS UGH)

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and there you have it, folks. you made it to the end. in the far, far distance, i’m cheering you on and crying my eyes out in gratitude. thanks for tuning in!

#omniscient reader #orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #kim dokja #fanart #kdj happiness rights!#protect him!#let! him! have his big house! with everyone! he loves!#please!#long ass emotional screeching #look i can't do him justice with drawing but hell can i yell out my love for him :'^DD

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teamfreewill2pointo · 4 years

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Sam’s Emotional Arc 1/3

I hated the finale immediately, but I’ve spent some time with it and talked to friends who loved it. I can see now what it was about, and I’ve come to appreciate the story they were trying to tell, even if I think it didn’t land right.

I’ve been told that my meta on this has helped other people come to terms with the finale, so I thought I’d compile it in one place from across various discord channels and twitter posts. If you are struggling with the finale, I hope it helps you.

Part of this actually started with a shit post. I was making a joke about Sam being psychic since he was scared of clowns when Dean died by one. I realized that may have been deliberate. I dug into the story more and now I’m convinced it was. Then I came across some excellent meta that fit with the themes I was finding and opened up the series even more for me.

Happiness isn’t in the having, it’s in just being. It’s in just saying it.

Cas said it. Dean accepted it. Sam lived it. First, Sam’s journey.

Clowns pop up in s15 before the barn scene. In 15.01, which was written by Dabb, Sam is injured by a clown. Castiel is able to save Sam and heal his injury. The clown keeps coming after Sam, with Sam having fight scenes with the clown, while others attack the other ghosts. The clown is kicking the shit out of Sam again, and Castiel saves him once more. Sam is unable to fight off the clown on his own both times.

They run until they are able to escape outside a magical barrier. Sam turns to the clown and says, “shut up”.

This is literally Sam running from his fears. On top of that, this isn’t just any clown, but the ghost of John Wayne Gacy, from an episode also written by Dabb.

Dean: A serial killer clown. I mean, this is, like, the best/worst thing that’s ever happened to you, you know, ‘cause you love serial killers, but – but you hate clowns.

Sam gets nervous and struggles with the lighter before he’s able to get rid of the clown, for now.

I believe this is a metaphor for hunting in general: it’s both the best of Sam’s life and also the worst. The clowns symbolize his relationship with Dean.

Plucky Pennywhistle's Magical Menagerie was co-written by Dabb (see the pattern?). Sam’s fear of clowns was known since season 2. In season 7, Dabb explored where this fear came from.

On the surface, Sam’s fear is just because he found them creepy, but the episode explains that they actually come from Sam’s fear of being left behind by Dean.

youtube

This episode comes directly after an episode where Sam worried that Dean would get himself killed

Sam: Look... Dean, the thing is, tonight... It almost got you killed. Now, I don't care how you deal. I really, really don't. But just don't – don't get killed. Dean: I'll do what I can. Sam: Well, what's that supposed to mean? Dean: It means I'll do what I can. All right? You can shut up about it.

Sam is dealing with Hallucifer at this moment, but Hallucifer doesn’t really scare him. Losing Dean does.

Sam has a conversation with an employee about greatest fears.

youtube

Recognize the actress? She came back for s15 in 15.06. I don’t believe this was a coincidence. 15.06 featured Castiel helping a parent find their lost child in a season that features Castiel worried about losing Jack. Through his experience with her, Castiel confronts his fears and doubts and then returns to join in the fight against God. [I’ll touch on Castiel’s journey more in his chapter]

Sam’s greatest fear is losing Dean. There’s a lot in the series about how Sam felt lonely and abandoned for much of his childhood. A whole episode, Just My Imagination, centers around this. Sam hated when Dean went off on hunts without him.

source In The Chitters, Sam tells Dean how his fear of losing his family paralyzed him as child. It’s a story where an older brother dies and the younger brother never recovers from it until he’s able to lay him to rest (sound familiar???)

Sam: You know, whenever you and Dad used to leave me to go hunting, and I-and I wouldn’t hear from y’all for a while, I, um, I was always sure that some vamp or rugaru, or take your pick, I always figured one of them finally got ya. I tried to think what to do, you know, the next step to take. I was just lost. Dean: We came back, though, every time.

You might naturally think, “Wait a minute! Sam left Dean multiple times!” Honestly, this was something I had a huge issue with when watching through the show the first time. I didn’t understand Sam and hated him leaving Dean in s8. I was completely on Dean’s side at first. But, on multiple rewatches and talking to others, I’ve realized that when Sam left Dean, he was running from his fear. In this TV Guide interview, Jared perfectly sums up why Sam left in season 1; he couldn’t stand to see his family die. Dabb wrote Dark Side of the Moon along with a comic that explains why Sam left in detail. While the comic isn’t official canon, it shows Dabb’s thought process. In it, Sam sees his family as running towards a horrible end and can’t handle dealing with that.

Dean: So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it? Sam: No. Not normal. Safe.

There are many more points in the series where we learn about Sam’s fear of Dean dying. This would be 3948573945 pages long if I wrote them all out, so I’m going to focus on the key moments that loop back to this ending, but there’s so much more there.

If you are struggling with this and need more, please let me know and I can do a deeper dive into that subject. We first see Sam’s inability to let Dean go in season 1 when Sam refuses to let Dean die in Faith.

Dean: You're not gonna let me die in peace, are you? Sam: I'm not gonna let you die, period. We're going.

Sam’s whole arc in s3 is him being unable to handle Dean dying. He wants to save Dean, but Dean won’t let himself be saved. This was what Gabriel was trying to teach him in Mystery Spot.

Trickster: This obsession to save Dean? The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other? Nothing good comes out of it. Just blood and pain. Dean's your weakness. And the bad guys know it, too. It's gonna be the death of you, Sam. Sometimes you just gotta let people go.

This is how Ruby gets under Sam’s skin and what gets him to start working with her. Everything Sam did was to save Dean. In s4, Sam’s arc is about him sacrificing himself in order to save Dean. He’s gutted from being unable to save Dean. In 4.12, Sam decides to drink demon blood in order to save Dean

Dean: [says that they will die early] Sam: Maybe we'll be different, Dean. Dean: What kind of Kool-Aid you drinking, man? Sammy, it ends bloody or sad. That's just the life. Sam: What if we could win?Dean: "Win"?Sam: If there was a way we could just...put an end to all of it.

When Sam breaks out of the panic room, he’s suicidal. He’s determined to save Dean with his life as the cost he’s willing to pay. He didn’t think he would survive killing Lilith. He was committing suicide in that moment. The reason why Sam is so willing to sacrifice himself in s5 is because he has low self esteem. He blames himself for everything that goes wrong. In Sam, Interrupted 5.11, also by Dabb, Sam has a breakdown under the weight of his guilt. He hates himself and he feels his rage is out of control. In season 6, we see soulless Sam and, unlike souled Sam, he has no rage. Yes, he’ll kill when necessary, but he’s not angry. It was Sam’s fear driving his rage. He felt out of control of his life and let it lead him down a dark path. In season 7, he sees Dean heading down a dark path and he feels helpless to stop it. He worries about dragging Dean down and tells Dean to let him go. But, at the same time, he’s developing coping techniques. He’s starting to face his fears.

youtube

And then Dean disappears and Sam completely falls apart. Sam didn’t have a healthy relationship with Amelia. They were two broken people clinging to each other. Sam and Dean struggle to reconnect after their time apart. There’s a lot of text addressing the horror of a partner dying and people trying to escape from it.

Mrs Holmes: He could see the end of my days were at hand, and... He had lived centuries all alone, but I don't think he could bear the thought of life without me. That's why he drove off that bridge. You must think I'm a monster.

In Hunteri Heroica written by GUESS WHO!?!? Sam finally acknowledges that he was living in a dream world with Amelia. He was running from his past. We see a flash back with Sam pressing on his scar, which he did to help himself distinguish fantasy from reality.

The episode is about a man refusing to engage in reality and harming those around him. Sam has a big confrontation with him

Sam: Look, it can be nice living in a dream world. It can be great. I know that. And you can hide, and you can pretend... all the crap out there doesn't exist, but you can't do it forever because... eventually, whatever it is you're running from – it'll find you. [CASTIEL appears to be taking Sam’s words to heart.] It'll come along, and it'll punch you in the gut. And then... then you got to wake up, because if you don't, then trying to keep that dream alive will destroy you! It'll destroy everything!

Likewise, when Sam was with Jessica, he wasn’t honest about himself. He was hiding from his family and his past. Running to avoid pain. Sam is avoidant in general. Not just in his relationship with Dean. When he talks with Rowena in 13.12 Various & Sundry Villains about his fears of Lucifer, he admits that he could talk about it with Dean, but he can’t bring himself to.

Sam: I’ve seen it too. What he really looks like behind – behind whatever vessel. It… Yeah, still keeps me up at night. Rowena: How do you deal with it? Sam: I guess I don’t deal with it. Not really. I mean, I pushed it down and, um, the world kept almost ending, so I keep pushing it down, and I don’t know. [stammering] I really don’t talk about it, not even with Dean. I mean, I could. You know, he’d listen, but… That’s not something I really know how to share.

In 15.20, Sam’s past is front and center. Literally. I know a lot of people found the Winchester family portrait odd and upsetting, but it symbolizes something I’ll get to in a bit. Instead of trying to avoid his grief, Sam has moments where he lets it wash over him. He goes and sits in the car. He’s no longer avoidant. He’s no longer running away. He’s letting his grief move through him. He’s literally sitting with it.

Soulless Puppy pointed out that the characters emotional arcs is similar to DBT. Please look through their awesome meta here.

Personally, I see them as similar to the therapy I do called ACT. Both are forms of therapy where instead of fighting against them, you accept painful emotions and allow yourself to feel them. If you don’t do that work, then you can’t stop feeling them and your fears/ghosts will always haunt you. In Swan Song, Chuck tells us that “Dean didn't want Cas to save him. Every part of him, every fiber he's got, wants to die, or find a way to bring Sam back. But he isn't gonna do either. Because he made a promise.” In 15.20, Sam initially didn’t want to let Dean go. He’s been refusing to do this since season 1. When he’s separated from Dean he lives a fake life or destroys himself/the world trying to get Dean back. There’s a moment in 15.20 where Sam looks at Dean’s guns. He wants to commit suicide, but he makes the choice to live. For the time in Sam’s life, he let Dean go and lived with his pain. He no longer ran from it. After Swan Song, Dean was unable to let Sam go. He wanted him back. After Carry On, Sam is able to do what Dean couldn’t do. He lives a life outside of Dean. What’s more, Sam has reconciled himself with his past and his family. It’s clumsy and I wish it were better shown, but having the family portrait and their parents in heaven isn’t meant to excuse the way Sam and Dean were raised. In order to move past the trauma of his relationship with his parents, Sam fully integrates them into his life. In Lebanon, Sam was able to confront and forgive his father. In doing so, he can also forgive himself. Mary asks for forgiveness too, and he grants it to her. He doesn’t forget what happened, but he’s able to move forward and leave the intergenerational cycle of violence. He’s able to raise his son, Dean, the way his brother should have been raised.

Happiness isn’t in the having, it’s in just being. It’s in just saying it.

Cas said it. Dean accepted it. Sam lived it.

I can see why people see Sam’s life after Dean as unhappy. I hated it so much because I saw it as horrible and sad the first time through. I had to sit with myself and my emotions first. I think it’s because we’ve been told by society that we have to get rid of our grief in order to be happy. The finale was showing us that it’s possible to do the opposite. [Personally I think it would’ve been better had they showed more overtly happy memories, but many of my friends saw this straight away] When I began therapy, one of the first things I learned was that there aren’t “negative” emotions. When working with our kids, we call them Big emotions. In DBT/ACT, all emotions are treated as normal and natural. Grief, anger, sadness, etc, these are all normal parts of the human existence. We don’t need to run from them in order to have happiness. We can live with them. As interstitial said in our chats, “you can't change the past, you can only change your relationship to it. To accept that your past contained both love and heartache, to miss it, but also know you can do better; that's actual recovery, as good as it gets.” As Soulless-Puppy explained to me, Sam lived in duality. Dean was dead, but Sam lived. Sam was happy, but he grieved. Dean was with him in the watch and the car and his son, but Dean also waited for him in heaven. I hated the finale the first time I saw it, then next watched it with my boyfriend who loved it. As we were watching together and discussing it, I realized that Dean’s death scene wasn’t just about him, but about the show itself.

Dean promising Sam that he will be with Sam in Sam’s heart is also the show promising us that they will never leave it. That’s why Alex kept posting “The end has no end.” Just as Sam carried Dean with him in his heart, we will carry the show with us. I hope this helps. It’s a terrible thing to feel upset about an ending and thinking of the show this way, recognizing these patterns, is bringing me peace. I still have issues with how it was written, but now that I see what they were doing, I wish all the more that they had the chance to do it right. Please share your thoughts and experiences. I love hearing different opinions. Next up, Dean. Then Castiel.

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em0avacado · 3 years

Text

They say

( Coco Cruz x Reader )

a/n : this is how i cope, don’t mind me, i’m just breaking my own heart.

trigger warnings : none i don’t think? except heart break, sadness. ends happy tho. i think. maybe.

word count : 2.4k

They say that, if you love something, let it go. If it comes back, it was meant to be, if it doesn’t? well you just couldn’t accept that. You’d poured every ounce of yourself into him, you’d told him all your fears, all your pet peeves, all your insecurities, because you trusted him. You’d accepted all his weird quirks, all the strange habits he had that you looked past, youd accepted him for who he was, as you do when you love someone as much as you loved him. You supported him, mentally and physically, from up close and from far away. You encouraged him, reminded him of little things he easily forgot, you told him every day how proud you were of him, how loved and appreciated he was.

He used to do the same for you, used to. But at some point, he began holding back, he stopped doing things he started doing to win you over. You used to have a list of pet names hed call you when he babied you, now it was just ‘baby’ if he was in a good mood, or [Y/N]. You noticed it as soon as it started, you noticed everything. You knew he was stressed so you didn’t want to push it, but you also know that “stressed” was a norm for Coco, so you couldn’t wrap your head around it entirely. He started coming home later, crashing on the couch in hopes of “not disturbing your sleep.” it sounded like an excuse to you, and it hurt. it really fucking hurt you.

At some point, you’d had enough of your boyfriend distancing himself like that, ignoring your feelings, ditching you when you needed him, you couldn’t live that way, you wouldn’t. So, when he came home, you’d waited up for him, sitting at the small kitchen table you both used to enjoy your breakfast on every Sunday, now it stood empty, with nothing but a stack of newspapers from the passing weeks piled on it. With a bit of liquid courage crashing against the rocks of ice as you swirled the brown liquid around in the cup, your eyes felt red with fire, and your cheeks were stained with few dried tears that rolled down your face as your mind came up with the worst possible results you could imagine, all to which, came true. With a jingle of his keys in the lock, you straightened your posture, looking at him.

“What’re you doing up?” he asked her, that same vacant look on his face.

“I wanted to talk”

“it can wait till morning.”

“it really can’t.” with that, she was met with utter annoyance, and an obnoxious scoff that made her blood boil.

“go on then.”

“you’ve distanced yourself, so hard. I barely see you. We don’t sleep in the same bed, I can’t remember the last time you touched me, hell, even looked at me like you used to. What’d I do?” that was your go to, blaming yourself. It’s how you dealt with the unexplained.

“Get off my ass, [Y/N].” He dismissed you, you watched as he pulled off his kutte, and settled into the couch. You kept your eyes on him, murder on your mind. God he irritated you, you wanted to take his neck between your hands and wring it. Maybe that’d breathe some sense into him, if you deprived him of oxygen a little. But you didn’t need another felony charge, you inhaled deeply, balling your fists, the sting of your nails digging into the palm of your hand bringing you back from picturing all the ways you’d brutally murder him, out of love, of course.

If you loved someone... you’d refrain from strangling them, you turned from the spot you stood, and headed into the bedroom. You did the breathing exercises your therapist had taught you, but they worked only slightly. You grabbed a duffel bag, and started shoving clothing into it, as much as you could, you pushed all the belongings you’d need the next few days, and zipped it up. Pulling on a hoodie, you tossed the bag over your shoulder, and headed out. You walked passed him without a word, when you went to grab your car keys, you did the only petty thing you’d let yourself, trying to be the better person, you hid every single key to everything you had, knowing how easily he lost keys, you’d help him, in your own favour, however.

You left, and you didn’t look back. You couldn’t. The mere thought of Coco made you tear up, and it didn’t help that every tiny thing made you think about the lost love that still caused your chest to feel like it was about to concave. This wasn’t natural, you hadn’t felt like this, you were the queen of bottling up emotions, and ignoring them so you didn’t feel the pain of anything. But as you lived and breathed, everything reminded you of him.

You were in the middle of a girls lunch date, it’d been weeks since your seen your girlfriends since you’ve been trying to isolate yourself trying to get over this man, in the midst of drinking mimosas on the balcony of one of those entirely too fancy restaurants, you were laughing at highschool memories of your best friend who would start fights in the halls because she was bored, it was then, when a roar of motorcycles sped past where you were sitting, and it threw you into a whirl wind of emotions.

“make sure you hold on tight, mamas. Wouldnt want you to fall off.” the smirk heard in Coco’s voice sent a chill down your spine, being too intimidated by any sort of physical contact, usually, you usually ease yourself into it, but with Coco? It was brash and sudden, he started the bike, and gave you maybe a millisecond to grab a hold on him.

A little squeal forced its way out of your mouth as you quickly grabbed onto him, gripping onto your own hands, clinging to him. You buried your face in his shoulder. You felt him chuckle, and wanted to knock him out right then and there, but perhaps that wasn’t the best idea. It took you a moment, but once you opened your eyes, and watched as buildings, cars, people, hills and piles of dirt passed you by, trees whipping by. You felt yourself calm, you felt at peace. The wind flipped through your locks of hair, his scent filling your senses.

“This isn’t that bad.” you heard yourself admit in a soft mumble, you shut your eyes and felt the wind attack your face, balancing your inner battles with yourself. You felt peace in Coco, he tamed your chaos, and you his. God, what you’d give to feel like this all the time, but you only felt it with him.

You felt your throat burn, your bottom lip lodged itself between your teeth, and you did your best to fight the rage that tinged your eyes with tears. Your friends saw this, noticing immediately, the emotion that washed over your face, paling your features and dimming a smile that brought them laughter that lasted for days. You’d always been the group clown, with the loudest laugh, the brightest smiles, you were the one they’d all turn to when they couldn’t hold themselves up. You were a force to be reckoned with, you fought their battles when they couldn’t even hold themselves up. You never failed to show up with booze and ice cream to heal broken hearts. You brought things that made you think of friends, you remembered the finest details and came through every time. You listened to the quietest ones, heard every story, laughed at the lamest jokes. Seeing you with tears streaming involuntarily down your face as you tried to hide it, wiping them as fast as they came, it broke their collective hearts. They looked at one another, an unspoken question “how do you skip to the part of the storm that sprouts the flowers when the rain stops?”

Your relationship with sleep was toxic, it came and went as it pleased, your eyes were sunken, it was three A.M. and you felt your thoughts running through your mind a million miles a minute. Your head in your hands as another memory floated to the surface.

Panic overwhelmed you, hearing something, or someone, rustling around the kitchen, you grabbed the gun you kept tucked under your mattress. You cocked it, and took the safety off, holding it out in front of you in a defensive position. You opened your creaking door, the noise working at your nerves as you creeped into the kitchen where the only thing that illuminated the dark room was the bulb from the old white fridge. You watched silently as the head ducked from inside the fridge, you found it peculiar, but all you saw was a figure in your home you didn’t know. Getting closer, you held the barrel of the gun to the head of the man that stood in your kitchen.

“Hands up, Foo. Before I blow your brains all over my backsplash.” You threatened, your voice tense, and you were met with laughter that was all too familiar. Furrowing your brows, you were still panicked, not thinking straight. You shifted the gun so the bullet that was about to fly, only ripped through his hair. The shot rang loud, causing Coco, who you didn’t know was Coco, to crash to the ground.

“Crazy bitch!” he shouted, you flicked on the light, still having the gun pointed at him. Your eyes widened quickly, the man on your floor was Coco, and now there was a bullet lodged into your ceiling. You could kiss your security deposit goodbye, fuck, and you just shot at Coco. You put the safety back on, and set it on your counter before going to help him. A few minutes passed before both of you sat in fits of laughter, him mocking your voice, your words.

Coco told you so many times that the night you nearly shot him in the head, was the night he fell for you entirely. Sure, he’d known you were the one way before that. That night, though, he knew he was in love with you. That night he swore he’d break past your barriers, he’d demolish how you saw yourself, he taught you to love you, he made you promises to show you love like no other, and to show you that you didn’t have to be afraid of either physical and emotional aspects of love. He did do exactly that, but then ripped it away from her. Leaving her heart with him, and her chest feeling heavy with nothing. Once again tears were brought to your eyes, you were thankful for his love, but without it? you wished you’d never had experienced it in the first place. Maybe you wouldn’t be hurting now.

You were brought out of your train of thought by the knocking on your door, furrowing your brows, you got up from your spot on the counter, where you were thinking of better times, you looked through the peephole and it felt like someone took a vacuum to your weak lungs. Coco. Struggling to breathe proper, you just intended on ignoring him, it was the first time in months youd seen him and you didn’t know if you could handle it. Your heart screamed at you to let him in, he looked beat up, tired, and one of his eyes was bandaged up, he looked broken. you wanted to embrace him, forget the distance, but your mind scolded you, reminding you of the progress youd made, bouncing back from the pain oh so slowly. This could set it all back. So you decided, you wouldn’t open the door. He’s a big boy. You silently turn on your heel, away from the door.

“I’m sorry.” you heard him rasp, and you froze in your spot, a deer caught in headlights. You couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. “I know you’re there, I know you’re awake and I know you know it’s me. You have your kitchen light on, so I saw you stand on your toes to look through the peephole because you’re too short.” you cursed his observant ways, how well he knew you, like he had quirk notes tattooed on the back of his hand and read them like a bible. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice when you left, that I was too deep in my own world to see how me fading away for my own selfish needs was hurting you. I’m sorry I made it seem like I didn’t care, that it hurt you, I’m sorry that I made promises and broke them. I started thinking about things I never knew I wanted until you marched your stubborn self in my life and gave me a taste of a love that changed me. It scared the fuck out of me.”

That familiar burn of emotion lit up your head, and singed your chest. You let his words sink in, you couldn’t speak, not yet. Squeezing shut your eyes, you turned back to the door, setting your hand on the knob. You felt the door shift, like he’d gotten up from leaning his head against the poorly tinted wood. He got it, you could feel him prepare to walk away. If you love something, let it go. But Coco came back. He came back. You unlocked it, and turned the knob. Looking at him through sore eyes. “Running when you’re scared isn’t an option for me.” you said, defeat obvious in your voice. He stopped, turned to you and closed in quick. You pushed his hands away. “You can’t - You can’t just show me, tell me, and hold it to me that i shouldn’t shut you out, and i should trust you, and i should turn to you before anyone and anything else only to turn around and do that to me. You can’t do that and come running back.” you practically yelled at him, your voice shaking and raw.

“I know, I know I’m sorry.” he said, his hands dropping to his sides when you reached forward and yanked him in with all your might. The gesture was aggressive, sure. But pure.

“i’m sorry too.” you muttered, embracing him tightly.

—

tag list :

@queenbeered

@mayans-sauce

#coco x reader #coco cruz #mayans fanfic #mayans mc #fanfic #richard cabral

89 notes · View notes

woodchoc-magnum · 3 years

Text

L0ne St@r 2x12 Hate Watch

DO NOT REBLOG THIS ONE - thanks, I’m trying to fly under the radar with my negative opinions here

Usual disclaimer, and I mean it this time: If you watch and love this show, that’s great and I hope you continue to enjoy it. Please don’t read this - simply go about having a lovely day.

If you do love this show and T*rlos and are braving this anyway - do not come in here. I mean it. This is not a T*rlos friendly zone. I do not ship it. Please enjoy your ship in peace and harmony. I have no intention of getting into arguments with anyone, I will simply ignore you.

I have done everything I can to avoid this showing up in the tags, whatever the LS tags are. Don’t send me hate on anon because I’ll delete them; I don’t care if you think I should stop watching the show, I’m not gonna. I like to suffer.

Eddie Diaz for calm and strength and to centre ourselves:

Hate, as always, under the cut:

Let's do this fucking thing, I've heard bad things about this episode

And I already know I'm wrong about the arsonist which is ANNOYING but maybe also too obvious so that's okay, I also know who the arsonist is and all the main plot points but I’ve still got to watch it to really appreciate the subtle nuances of the episode:

Oooh Billy

I ship it

Billwen for the win

This show is so dumb

Billy is smarter than Owen, maybe he should be the captain of the 126

I miss his lightning scars though

He's TWO HOURS LATER FOR DINNER

TK is looking as bland as always

They seriously waited for two fucking hours for this guy

Maybe should've put some deodorant on before going to dinner there Owen

You know I can't imagine the OG doing a storyline as dumb as this

So Carlos' dad thinks it's someone who works at the 126 or just a firefighter in general?

Well gosh darn it, it looks like Owen fits that profile exactly!

At least we get some Judd early in the episode and I love him

Angela Bassett is executive producer on this show as well? I hope she gets paid cash money for this

Billy is the red herring and I fell right into their trap

I just really wanted it to be him

Ooh Grace was listening

Oh it's 100% the arson investigator and Billy is 100% turning Owen in, I love him

Billy is amazing

He's my favourite character on this show

I hope he's not working with Owen to get the arson investigator? I hope he's actually this devious

I want him to be THIS DEVIOUS

Why the fuck does Owen wear that hoodie everywhere

TK is now having a little bitch fit

"they can't do that, can they?" he asks in a monotone, his face blank and devoid of expression

TK's real real dumb

Oh ho ho is this the shoving scene

IT IS

God Ronen CANNOT ACT

Okay so while I think it is wildly unbelievable that they would send TK's boyfriend to tell him that his father had been arrested by HIS father – it seems like a conflict – I would like to say that Carlos is being calm and reasonable

And TK is acting like a little BITCH

This is escalating quickly

Oh TK you so dumb

THE SHOVING

Wow

FOUR TIMES

Wow

Your fave is problematic, yo

Carlos deserves better than this whiny little piece of shit

And now, an interlude while I rant:

Let's talk about how Eddie Diaz yelled at Buck once in a supermarket and the fandom has never forgotten it; how his character has been villainised despite everything else going on in the show at the time, for that one fucking scene – let's talk about all the fics where Eddie hits Buck, or punches him, or rapes him – because you know those fics exist – let's talk about the "Eddie is violent" narrative that parts of this fandom like to push because Eddie yelled at Buck, one time, once, in a supermarket

Totally ignoring the fact that at no point at all, in any other episode he’s been in, has he been violent towards Buck, at all - let’s talk about how the street fighting arc was out of character for Eddie, because he was struggling to cope and looking for an outlet - let’s talk about how Buck and Eddie moved past that whole storyline and strengthened their relationship; how they built a family together, how they’re a team and they have each other’s backs no matter what, and how, not once in the entire show, have they ever been violent towards each other or pushed each other around in anger - NOT ONCE.

And let's talk about this scene, where TK, ya boy, ya sweet tender boy, just shoved the man he says he loved four times, violently, in front of people at the firehouse.

I betcha any money he doesn’t get tarnished with the Eddie-Diaz-is-violent brush, because he can do no wrong. He’s the fan favourite, and this is totally glossed over by the end of the episode and nothing will ever be said about it ever again.

Because wow, you guys. Wow. If this was my ship, I’d be pissed.

Back to the hate watch:

And I know that whole fight is for nothing because I know the plot twist – I know that the dads are working together in order to reveal the real arsonist, the investigator – so they've basically turned their children, who are in a relationship, against each other?

Also why is Billy allowed to be watching the interview?

Goddamn do we really have to show the gruesome burn victim photos

I really want Billy to be devious by the way, and not in on the plan

Oh here comes TK, looking like the little bitch he is

God he's a fucking awful actor

This is the dumbest plotline ever

Equating OWEN STRAND WITH THOR? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

BLASPHEMY

THOR IS THE GOD OF THUNDER

OWEN IS A DUMBASS

THE TWO ARE NOT EQUAL

Uh oh here comes the evil investigator

Do either of these men – Owen and Carlos' dad – stop to consider that what they're doing has kind of an impact on their children, who are currently in a relationship? No? Okay

Because this is one hell of an awkward situation

Does Owen genuinely think that Billy is the arsonist?

Interesting that the arson investigator wants any info Owen didn't give Carlos' dad, and he turned off the cameras/mics etc

This show is stupid

Arson investigator also knows that the sons are dating, interesting

"And you can pound sand!" oooh great comeback Owen

This episode is so BORING OMG

Why the fuck am I watching a shitty Law & Order knock-off when I should be watching a bonkers 911 episode

Oh no Judd's at Billy's

I really do think Billy Burke is good looking and it is a flaw of mine, I don't know what it is about him and he really doesn't look that good in this show but I really love Billy Burke okay

And I WANT HIM TO BE DEVIOUS

Oh Judd

Oh Judd thinks Billy is the arsonist

See this is why YOU DON'T LIE TO THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU

Oh he punched him

God damn everyone is violent in this show

Judddddddddddddd

Uh oh here comes trouble to the "vagrant's" hospital room

Oh it's the arson investigator, their little bluff worked, incredible, amazing, flawless etc

Wow how amazing

It was the ol' switcheroo

Judd punched Billy for nothing

TK and Carlos nearly came to blows for nothing

Now Owen is allowed to watch the interrogation? They'll just let anyone watch those things these days

OH MAN ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT BILLY WAS IN ON IT WITH OWEN THE WHOLE TIME?

Damn it I wanted DEVIOUS god damn it

Fucking cowards

"I assumed it was probably a trap at the hospital which is why I went there anywhere"

But why is he lighting fires

A FEW MONTHS?

A man is dead

Pure theatre

So annoyed that Billy isn't devious

But the Billwen ship sails on, clowns 🤡

Do we think the arsonist has the hots for Owen? 100% yes, right?

He's very happy to see him wink wonk

This doesn't even feel like an episode of 911, it's so goddamn dumb

"I knew you had darkness in you too" – that dude definitely wants to fuck him

Why is he lighting the fires?

They're so dumb

"And now I'm going to repay the favour" – he's talking about YOUR SONS

WHO HE KNOWS ARE TOGETHER

Wow these two dumbasses really have no fucking idea do they

OH HE'S BURNING HIMSELF ALIVE

Wow this is graphic

What the fuck is up with this show and the horribly graphic scenes lately?

That dude is dead yo

"Take away everything that's important to me" AND HE CALLS THE FIREHOUSE FIRST

THE FIREHOUSE IS THE FIRST FUCKING CALL???

Oh okay it did blow up and TK was there so I'll allow it

But hey look on the bright side – Owen gets to remodel again!

And isn't that what he's the best at?

Yo your firehouse is on fire dudes, better call the fire department

Does Judd apologise to Billy or no

Oh here we have TK and Carlos and their perfect love

And Carlos is the one apologising?

No.

Please tell me no

Carlos you are allowed to be pissed at him – ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

"nobody has to apologise?"

YOUR BOYFRIEND PUSHED YOU AROUND

Oh my god

Wow

Okay.

Look I'm just saying that to me this would be a GIGANTIC RED FLAG but wtf do I know

I'm just saying because I have to – if Carlos was a woman and TK did that? Whole different story gang

Whole completely different mother-fucking story

This show, wow

Wow.

Wow. This is bad.

Domestic violence happens to men too, just saying.

Wow I'm so annoyed that I've paused it to type furiously and rant that wow, they're just not acknowledging that TK was totally out of line? Okay. Wow.

And everyone's just fine with it?

Oh they're just figuring out that he set more than one fire

Maybe there's something else you care about other than the firehouse, Owen

Maybe?

BILLY IS THE ONE WHO FIGURES IT OUT

See this is why Billy is the best

Oh no TK and Carlos are in danger

Oh it's so romantic isn't it? They're gonna fuck now that everything is okay

Wow he left a lot of bombs in Carlos' house

Damn Carlos is hot

No smoke alarms?

That fire has really taken ahold there guys

I'm gonna assume you do have smoke alarms and he disconnected them

Wow he really covered all bases didn't he

Put the bombs in the bedroom as well

RIP Carlos' nice house

"I love you too" after I violently shoved you around today

Oh who needs a fucking fire department when you've got Owen fucking Strand right?

"Carlos" he says flatly. "How are you doing?" he asks in a monotone

"I should've had an extinguisher in the bedroom" DUDE NO ONE DOES

And if TK wanted one in there, he's the fucking firefighter, he should've checked when he moved in instead of assuming like a dumbass

God this show is dumb as fuck and I hate it so much

Billwen for the win

"just a couple of crap magnets" fucking a-men Judd

This show sucks

Oh no TOMMY OH NO

WHAT'S HAPPENING

OH MY GOD

WHAT THE FUCK

What the fuck

Is he dead?

TAKE OWEN AND TK INSTEAD

I’m going to say one more thing about this T*rlos storyline - if they’d done this to Buck & Eddie in the OG, I’d be fucking devastated. Like... if Buck or Eddie pushed the other around the way TK pushed Carlos around, I’d be absolutely gutted. It’s really horrible that they went down that path - whether it’s OOC or not, and you can probably argue that it is - they shouldn’t have included the scene like that in the show.

It just raises a whole slew of questions, like... is TK violent? Is Carlos used to being pushed around in relationships? Is the show saying that it’s okay that they got a little physical because they’re both men? Domestic violence is never okay, and this is kind of... saying that it is, in certain circumstances?

That is problematic as fuck and such bad writing.

These two are in a relationship where they are living together and supposedly love each other, and this is how the writers choose to portray it? If you’re a T*rlos shipper and you’re upset about this episode, I get it. It’s really fucking terrible that they included that scene - and I would bet cold hard cash it’ll never be addressed again.

This is why LS is a bad show. It’s shitty writing. Shitty storylines. Characters who are interesting are shoved into the background and glossed over in favour of the male white characters. The OG doesn’t have this problem - for everyone complaining that Eddie hasn’t been featured as much this season (and yeah, I hate it too) - you can’t complain that the characters of colour don’t get equal screentime.

With LS - it’s the Rob Lowe show, and everyone else is just in the background. And that’s why it’s so frustrating to watch - they have a great cast, and this could be a really good show, but it’s just not.

Do you think the LS writers patted themselves on the back after this arc and were like, "yeah we nailed it, we're amazing?"

This episode is -1,000000/10. This show should be cancelled.

Two god awful miserable fucking episodes to go.

Diaz to cleanse:

#DO NOT REBLOG #lone star hate watch #enter at your own risk

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purplehairedwonder · 3 years

Text

Hearts With(out) Chains Chapter 2

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Gen (eventual Lawlu) Words: 3297 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Penguin, Shachi, Bepo, Jean Bart, Boa Hancock, Emporio Ivankov, Jimbei, Silvers Rayleigh, Donquixote Doflamingo Note: I’m taking my turn at the Corazon!Law AU because my brain won’t leave me alone until this is written down. Tags will be updated as the chapters come out.

The story title is based on the Ellie Goulding song “Hearts Without Chains.”

Summary: Law is reclaimed by the Family when he’s 17 and, with Doflamingo holding the lives of his crew as collateral for his good behavior, eventually becomes the third Corazon. Years later, trapped by his impossible situation, Law can’t help but resent Monkey D. Luffy for offering a glimpse of something he’s repeatedly had ripped away from him: hope.

Previous chapters: Prologue | 1

Read also at AO3 / FF.N

Law stared out over the Calm Belt, the forbidden land of Amazon Lily at his back. His crew puttered about around him, regularly complaining about not being able to go further onto the Isle of Women. Law, for his part, had bigger concerns; despite being on the Calm Belt and in the territory of another Warlord, he still half-expected the familiar sails of one of Doflamingo’s ships to appear on the horizon.

The aged straw hat in his grip felt fragile somehow—like its owner currently was—as Law absently turned it over, the crackling of the woven straw grounding him in a way he couldn’t explain. He wasn’t sure why, but he hadn’t let it out of his sight since it had been thrown his way as the Polar Tang prepared to dive in its escape.

It had been two weeks since Law had rescued Straw Hat Luffy from the battlefield of Marineford; the boy was still unconscious, though Law suspected that was more to do with his spirit than his body at this point. Though Straw Hat’s recovery still had a long way to go, Law felt confident he would survive—physically, anyway. Immediately after the surgery, Law would have given his chances at, optimistically, fifty-fifty, but each day his heart continued to beat in his repaired chest improved his odds.

As for when he’d wake up, well… the teen had suffered an immense trauma, his body falling into unconsciousness as a defense mechanism before Law had even arrived. The emotional pain of losing his brother wasn’t something Law could do anything for. (He was hardly the poster boy for healthy coping mechanisms anyway.)

And so, an entire island waited with bated breath.

The more stable Straw Hat’s condition became, the less Law needed to monitor him, which gave him more time to think; according to his crew, that was never a good thing. They were probably right. Law still had no idea how to explain his actions to Doflamingo. He knew neither he nor his crew would escape this unscathed, but Law found himself contemplating how to minimize the inevitable punishment.

On the day of the execution, Law and his crew had waited aboard the Tang at Sabaody in case Doflamingo called for them, watching the broadcast in the meantime. The moment Straw Hat Luffy had burst onto the battlefield, something had startled in Law’s chest. The revelation that he was not only Fire Fist’s brother but also the son of Dragon had sent shockwaves through the entire archipelago, but as Straw Hat fought for his brother’s life, all Law could think of was that middle initial he’d taken note of at the auction house.

Monkey D. Luffy.

“There have often been people who have the name D. who gained public notoriety, and old people would frown and mutter, ‘D. will surely bring us another storm,’” Cora-san had told him. “And in some places, there are people who call the Family of D. sworn enemy of the gods.”

There was one specific “god” that Law very much wanted to take down, though he was in no position to do so himself.

But maybe…

Well, a storm sure seemed to describe a boy who would punch a Celestial Dragon in the face for harming one of his friends, damn the consequences, and would fight every single Marine, if necessary, to rescue his adopted brother from execution.

And when the broadcast of the battle was cut, the feeling in Law’s chest turned into a tug so insistent that he’d ordered his crew to set sail for Marineford.

“Did Doflamingo call for us, Captain?” Penguin asked once they had submerged.

“No.”

Penguin shot him a confused look. “Then why…?”

But Law hadn’t been able to explain the feeling in his chest, the absolute certainty that he was needed there, until the broadcast returned, and the Hearts watched Fire Fist fall and Straw Hat mortally wounded.

Law knew he’d drawn attention once the Polar Tang surfaced, undoubtedly looking like reinforcements for the Marines as the second-in-command of the Donquixote Pirates, but then he’d called for that idiot clown to give Straw Hat to him—and it had taken less convincing than it probably should have for him to throw Jimbei and Straw Hat down to the Tang. (Coward.) Law had no idea how anyone else, particularly Doflamingo, had reacted, as he’d been hyper-focused on getting his patients below deck with that tug in his chest demanding he act. The arrival of Red Hair had given them room to escape.

Other than removing Amber Lead from his body as a dying teenager who’d only had his Devil Fruit for a few days, the surgery to save Straw Hat was the most difficult of Law’s life. Operating for sixteen hours with Room activated nearly the entire time had completely drained Law—two weeks later, and he was still feeling the effects, his Rooms flickering out quickly when he summoned them—but he knew somehow that nothing less would satisfy the pull in his chest, whatever it was.

Though he would have liked nothing more than to sleep for days afterward, the presence of a Marine ship when the Polar Tang surfaced had forced him to stumble onto the deck and meet the wary eye of Boa Hancock. As he approached the door, he could hear her asking his crew about Straw Hat’s condition.

“I’ve done all I can,” Law said, wiping his hands on a towel as he came out on deck, willing himself upright in the face of another Warlord. “He was in bad shape. It’s up to him and his will to survive now.” He suppressed a grimace as he considered the damage he’d repaired in the boy’s chest. It was a miracle he was still alive by the time Law had gotten to him.

Hancock eyed him, her expression suspicious. It probably should have concerned him, having her full attention like that, but he was too tired to care.

“And why did you help him?” Her eyes narrowed. “Is this another one of Doflamingo’s plots? What does he want with Luffy?”

“I acted on my own.”

“Why?” That was Emporio Ivankov, who’d jumped down from the Marine vessel. Law, long past the point of wondering where these people were coming from, idly marveled at Straw Hat Luffy having friends like a current and former Warlord and a high-ranking Revolutionary (in addition to a father leading the Revolutionaries) that they would track Law to check on his condition but pushed it aside for another time. “Are you a friend of Straw Hat Boy?”

“No.” Law frowned. He might not be a believer anymore, but he’d been raised with religion and those teachings had never fully left him. The pull in his chest had felt like a sign—something the sisters at school would have said was important to follow. But these people didn’t need to know that. “It was a whim, nothing more.”

“A whim,” Hancock echoed flatly.

But Ivankov chuckled knowingly in a way that made Law feel transparent somehow. “Sometimes instinct drives us to do unexpected things.”

Despite her—entirely appropriate, Law knew—misgivings at working alongside the second-in-command of another Warlord, Hancock had brought the Hearts to Amazon Lily, leaving Straw Hat’s treatment in Law’s hands. It was likely Jimbei’s presence that gave Hancock any peace of mind at Law’s presence.

Law looked up when he heard a light cough. He shook himself as Jimbei came up next to him; he’d been so caught up in his reverie, he hadn’t noticed the former Warlord’s approach.

“May I sit?”

Law grunted, which Jimbei took as acquiescence. He sat down and allowed silence settle between them before breaking it.

“Will you be in trouble with your boss for helping Luffy?” he asked.

Law’s eye twitched. “I fail to see how that’s any of your concern.”

“I was thrown in Impel Down for refusing to fight alongside the other Warlords at Marineford,” Jimbei said. “The World Government won’t appreciate another Warlord’s second-in-command rescuing two enemies out from under their nose.”

Law found his grip tightening around the straw hat in his hand and loosened his fingers. Jimbei hadn’t said anything Law didn’t already know. “What is your point, Jimbei-ya?”

“Doflamingo won’t be pleased.”

“Unlikely,” Law agreed.

“But you will return to him.” It wasn’t a question.

Law looked out toward the Tang, where the boy still slept. “When Straw Hat-ya is well enough, yes.”

“Is that a good idea?”

Law huffed a humorless laugh, returning his gaze to Jimbei. “Whether it’s a good idea or not is irrelevant. When Straw Hat-ya no longer requires my care, I will return to Dressrosa and my captain.” He knew better than anyone that there would be consequences for his actions—and that he had no choice but to face them.

Though he knew there would be consequences for what he’d done, it was Doffy’s silence over the last two weeks that left Law the most off-balance. He’d expected the man to bombard Law with calls, if not follow Law himself; the Calm Belt would be little more than an inconvenience in the face of what he wanted.

But there had been nothing.

He supposed this was one of Doflamingo’s mind games. He would force Law to reach out to him first, to crawl back to him, draped in repentance. Doflamingo undoubtedly felt secure in Law’s eventual return because he forced Law to leave at least three members of his crew behind whenever he went out on a mission. Currently, Ikkaku, Clione, and Uni were back in Dressrosa. Law had felt comfortable leaving them since he’d expected the trip to Sabaody to be quick, an errand he could handle with minimal backup. That had been nearly a month ago. And Doflamingo was right; Law wouldn’t abandon his nakama, so even if he went dark for weeks, the Warlord could be confident his second would return.

Law just hoped those three hadn’t already been punished for his actions.

Jimbei frowned and opened his mouth to say more, but he was interrupted by a banshee scream coming from the Polar Tang.

“Ace!”

In mere moments, Straw Hat had somehow escaped the infirmary on the Tang (Law tried not to think about what he would find when he boarded his ship again) and made his way to land. As Straw Hat rampaged through the camp, Law caught a look at his face and flinched. The wide-eyed, glassy expression of grief over a pain too great to process was one Law was intimately familiar with; he’d worn it himself, first after Flevance and again after Cora-san.

“Where’s Ace?”

Law’s crew chased after the raging teen, trying to calm him down. Law exchanged looks with Jimbei.

“What’ll happen if we just leave him like that?” Jimbei asked as Straw Hat threw off Law’s crewmates and stormed further inland.

Law sighed, weariness hitting him square in the chest. “It’s simple. If he reopens his wounds, he could die.”

Jimbei grimaced and pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll go.”

“Your wounds could also reopen,” Law pointed out. Not that anyone seemed to care about his professional opinion.

“Better me than him.”

Law blinked at Jimbei’s back as the former Warlord followed Straw Hat’s path. He shook his head, once more wondering at the allies Straw Hat found himself with, and turned away. He continued looking out over the water, clenching his jaw at the sounds of Straw Hat’s rampage in the forest. He suppressed the urge to cover his ears, the pained sounds echoing through him and digging at Law’s own shallowly buried grief.

Eventually, the cacophony faded out, leaving the cliffside eerily quiet. His crew started moving around once more, though they were subdued in the wake of what they’d just witnessed.

“What the hell is that?” Shachi said suddenly, pointing out over the water.

Law frowned. There was some kind of commotion in the bay. What the hell?

“Is that a Sea King?” Penguin asked, joining Shachi.

“Is something fighting it?” Shachi yelped as Bepo and Jean Bart came up behind him.

The commotion came to an end almost as quickly as it started. One moment, the beast was thrashing violently, the next it was still.

“It’s dead,” Jean Bart murmured. “What could do that in the Calm Belt?”

There was a splash just below the cliff. Looked like they were going to find out. Law readied himself to make a Room—it wouldn’t be as big as usual and wouldn’t last long, but it would be something—but dropped his hand as Silvers Rayleigh climbed over the ledge, dripping water. Law watched the man warily as he explained that he’d swum through the Calm Belt. Monster.

Eventually, Rayleigh’s gaze turned back to Law. “You’ve created quite the stir, saving Luffy like that.” He smiled, though there was something in his eyes that made Law straighten. “Luffy is here, right?”

“I doubt you would have come all this way unless you knew the answer to that question already, Rayleigh-ya,” Law replied.

Rayleigh chuckled. “Fair enough. How is he?”

Law studied the older pirate for a moment then made a decision. “He just woke up. He’s still in rough shape; he’ll need to rest for at least two more weeks so his wounds close properly.” The grief, on the other hand, would take much longer to heal, but Law left that unsaid. Someone like Rayleigh would know that well.

Rayleigh nodded thoughtfully. “But his life is out of danger?”

“As long as he lets his wounds close, yes.”

“Good.”

Law’s lips twitched. “I take it we’re being dismissed, Rayleigh-ya?”

Rayleigh outright laughed at that. “Well, that’s not how I would have put it.”

“But you’re here to take over,” Law surmised.

“I’m here to offer Luffy a proposal.”

“And you expect him to accept. I get it.” Law pushed himself to his feet and closed the gap with Rayleigh. He held out the straw hat.

Rayleigh’s expression turned distant for a moment before he came back to himself and took the proffered object with understanding.

“Two weeks,” Law reiterated. “If he pushes it, he could die.” And Law didn’t want the danger he’d selfishly put his crew into to be for nothing.

-----

Once the Polar Tang had set sail, Bepo setting their course based on their eternal pose to Dressrosa, Law grabbed the long-range Den Den Mushi and retreated to his cabin. He placed it on his desk and stared at it as he debated how to approach the call. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but he started when there was a knock at his door.

“Captain?”

Law’s shoulder’s slumped at Bepo’s voice. “Come in,” he replied.

The door opened, revealing Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin. The trio filed into Law’s room, shutting the door behind them. Law swiveled in his desk chair to face them.

“Calling him?” Shachi asked, gesturing at the snail.

Law nodded. “Can’t put it off any longer.”

“What will you say?” Bepo asked.

Law’s mouth moved but nothing came out. He shook his head. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “I caused him a lot of trouble, and he’s going to be furious. But he won’t take it out on me.” Not all of it, anyway.

“We’re with you, Law.”

Law blinked at the use of his given name; he was so used to hearing his title, even from his crew, that his name sounded odd even to his own ears. It made the already-tight ball of guilt in his chest clench.

“I made a selfish choice, and now you guys are going to pay for it. I’m sorry.”

“Why did you save him?” Bepo asked. There was no judgment in his oldest friend’s eyes, just curiosity and trust.

“It was…” Law cast about the best way to describe the tug in his chest because if anyone deserved the truth, it was these three. “It was just a feeling,” he finally settled on. It sounded lame to his own ears as he said it. “I don’t know how to explain it. Like something was telling me it was important.”

The other three exchanged looks, and Law felt his stomach drop. It wasn’t good enough, not for the danger he’d put them in…

“Okay,” Bepo said after a moment.

“Okay?” Law echoed, taken aback.

“Okay,” Penguin confirmed.

“If you thought it was important, then we trust you,” Shachi added. “You’re our captain, Doflamingo be damned.”

“The others feel the same,” Penguin added. “We’ll be okay, Captain. Whatever happens.”

Fuck. What had Law done to deserve them?

Once the trio left his cabin, Law turned back to the Den Den Mushi on his desk. He took a breath and dialed the familiar number. It rang longer than Law expected, but he knew this was another of Doffy’s games, making sure Law would stay on the line—as though he didn’t have the ultimate bargaining chip for Law’s loyalty already. Finally, the other man picked up.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the prodigal son. I was starting to worry, Corazon.”

“My apologies, Young Master,” Law replied, deciding deferential was his best tone at the moment. “I called as soon as I was able.”

Doflamingo snorted. “I’m sure you did.” In other words, he knew Law was lying, but he didn’t care enough to challenge the lie. “Where are you?” he asked instead.

“En route to Dressrosa,” Law said, debating how much to reveal of his whereabouts for the last two weeks. Would Hancock reveal Law had been there? Doflamingo would be furious if he heard it from her first. On the other hand… Law decided to err on the side of sharing as little as possible; it made the most sense for Hancock to keep Straw Hat’s presence a secret, as allying—or even appearing to ally—with a rival pirate crew was enough to cost a Warlord their status. “We should be there within the week.”

“And Dragon’s son?”

“Alive. As is Jimbei.” No point in lying about that.

Doflamingo made an impressed sound. “Straw Hat took direct hits from Kizaru and Sakazuki, and you were able to save him? I should really stop being surprised by your abilities after all these years, Corazon.”

Law hummed in response, recognizing the trap in Doflamingo’s words. Nothing he could say here would turn out well for him, whether he accepted the praise or demurred; no response was his best option.

“As impressive as your skills as a doctor are,” Doflamingo went on when he realized Law wasn’t rising to the bait, “they’ve caused me some serious problems.”

And there it was. Law needed to tread very carefully here.

“I had to convince the World Government that my subordinate acted on his own and that I was still a good little Warlord.” His voice had turned into a sneer, and Law could picture the bulging vein in his forehead. “And promise my subordinate would be appropriately disciplined for his indiscretion.”

“Of course,” Law said. “I’m sorry for causing you difficulties, Young Master. I will, of course, accept my punishment.”

Doflamingo chuckled, though there was no warmth to it. “I’m sure you will. You’re ever the loyal one, aren’t you, Law?”

Law’s breath caught in his throat, his body going cold.

“See you in a week.” With that Doflamingo hung up.

Doflamingo had stopped using Law’s name when he became an executive four years ago, even in private, so hearing it now… His tone was such a contrast to the way his friends had used his name less than an hour earlier, theirs so full of warmth and trust while Doflamingo’s was full of implication and threat…

Law ran a tired hand over his face. “Fuck.”

Next chapter

#Caitlin's fic #Trafalgar Law #Heart Pirates #Donquixote Doflamingo #One Piece #One Piece fanfic #one piece fanfiction

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jokerownsmysoul · 4 years

Note

Imagine singing always the same song at home, humming while cleaning the house and under the shower. Arthur is used to hear this specific song in your mouth. So, when he becomes Joker and have to sleep alone some nights, he arranges to ear the song all night so he could sleep.

Omg this is the sweetest thinggg I’ve been melting since you send me this ask every time I read it, this is such a beautiful imagine 😭😭 also I’m so, so so sorry it took so long to respond omgg my brain is not cooperating with me these days lmaoo and I really wanted to write about this sweet prompt omg.

Word count: 971

That night Joker’s skin wasn’t just trembling from the cold outside, although the winter air seeped in from the open window was catching his skinny body in a painful grip. No. That night the tremor of his skin was caused by the grip your absence had left around him by floating in a cheap, lonely room, where his body wasn’t enveloped by the familiar warmth of your presence beside him, a presence that every night has always held him in his arms. Your legs entwined like underground roots of trees, your arms surrounding each other’s bodies and your breaths mixed into the other’s.

Joker couldn’t remember the last time he was forced to sleep away from you, and at the exact moment when his tired body landed on the cold mattress of the motel bed, he realized that being away from you was one of the hardest things he had had to deal with in his life. Harder than any assault he went through, harder than any runaway he had been forced to cope when the cops were looking for him, harder than bear the weight carried by the name the city had given him by calling him the Clown Prince of Crime. Your souls were not made to live apart, let alone now that they have known what it means to have someone beside them, someone who keeps warm not only your bodies during a cold night, but also your souls in broad daylight each passing day.

Yet here he was, an enamoured man forced to leave his one and only person for a movement he never wanted to start, forced to spend the night in a cheap and abandoned motel without feeling the smell of your lips whenever you kiss the scar on his upper lip, without the silkiness of your hair tickling his hollowed cheeks, without your voice whispering lovely nothings in his ear and the soft tune you used to hum, giving his silent life a music on which to dance by following the rhythm of your voiceprints. Joker may wear a suit of a brighter red, his name may be found in the most wanted list and his life may be changed, but underneath the red tissue of his there was the porcelain skin of the same man who used to swing on his hips every time he heard the unmistakable tune slip out of your lips while you were doing laundry, whenever you washed dishes, took a shower or at night, to soothe his dreams darkened by his demons.

In the depths of the night, while all the citizens of Gotham slept peaceful dreams and the lights of every building were turned off, letting the silence resonate in the alleys of the city in an oblivion, the deafening silence Joker was felting within him in not having you by his side would never have been able to be silenced by the much weaker silence imposed on the sleeper city. Joker never thought that silence could be so booming until he met you and your voice, which follow his walking upon earth like a soft melody in the background.

Joker was laying on his right side; his body placed down along the double bed and his mind haunted by his own past failed to give him the dormant state he was so trying to get. The night was quiet and the only noises he could hear were the fizzy, wet sound of his own breath and an owl in the distance putting in music a lovesong of a man forced to live without the person he loved; yet, the silence that was permeating him was even more blinding because of your missed voice which on that night couldn’t accompany him in his spooky dreams. Joker felt like he was part of one of those legends about sailors trying to escape the enchanted sirens call. The sailors tried to escape their grip not by listening to their bewitched chant, but Joker, eager for your chant addictive as a drug, would have wanted to be completely enveloped by your voice, caught by your gills and carried into the deep abyss of the ocean by listening to your magic melody before being totally sucked by the sea, still held in your squamous and lovely arms.

His hand slipped smoothly along the bedsheet and with his eyes closed he imagined not feeling the cold of the mattress left unoccupied, but the warmth of your body still absorbed by your side of the bed even after you got up to make breakfast, leaving him asleep and trying to make him recover the hours of lost sleep due to insomnia. Your absence was the only palpable thing about you that Joker could feel at that moment, and as the moon shone bright on the surface of the bedroom and on the faded sheet, his hand touching nothing and his body still trembling and cold, he began to hum to himself the same soft tune that every day was the first sound he hears when he woke up, whenever you entered the bedroom waking him up between a kiss and delicate notes, and the last sound he heard before falling asleep, whenever you whispered in his ear those notes that woke him up that same morning, until he’d fell into a long sleep cradled in your lovely lullaby.

His body was still trembling at his lack of you, and his eyes were tracing your features under his closed eyelids, imagining you were beside him. Yet, murmuring under his breath the sweet tune which tasted of your lips and sounded like your voice, Joker knew that you would have been beside him not through the body, but through the delicate music your soul made resound within his. Far away, but bound all the same.

#arthurjokersgirl #ask #loving on arthur #arthur fleck imagine #joker imagine #arthur fleck x you #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #joker x y/n #joker x reader #joker 2019 #joker fandom #Joker x you

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ruthlesslistener · 4 years

Note

B, H, T, U?

B - A pairing–platonic, romantic or sexual–that you initially didn’t consider, but someone changed your mind.

-You got me into Grimm/Herrah and now that pairing has been lurking in the back of my mind ever since because holy S H I T they would vibe so well. Both of them are scary powerful creatures with tiny little demon children that they love dearly and Herrah already has experience with, er, handling gods, so she’d adapt pretty quickly to Grimm’s antics, I think. Plus the idea of PK somehow hearing that his one ‘living’ child got adopted by the clown vulture because he hooked up with Herrah the Beast is HILARIOUS

H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., TV shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.)?

-Oh jeez. I’d say that books, games, and anime are my current best sources rn?? In that order, too. Books are the easiest to justify having and I’m a super quick reader, I tend to watch game playthroughs before ever getting them and youtube is easy to watch on breaks, and then anime is usually broken up into manageable chunks. TV is inconvenient even when I’m allowed to watch it, movies are too long, and I don’t think I’ve ever watched any western animated shows that I actually really liked, so those are out of my books (granted, I’ve barely watched any at all, so bear that in mind)

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending?

-YES and it is that Hollow is a sweetheart, Grimm is Good actually (y’all just assume gods of death are naturally evil), Herrah was a great mom in the time that she had, PK and WL were never intentionally cruel, just Out Of It and desperate, and Lurien was actually important to the city in some way shape or form (bc why the fuck else would he have a tower?? To paint??? Unless ‘Watcher’ always was a duty of sorts and he inherited it, but I feel like we’d have heard about his predecessors in the lore somewhere, at least via statues or something)

U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.

-Ough time to use ones other than Hollow Knight for once

The Silmarillion: Maedhros. Hands down Maedhros. Dude’s a classic example of ‘the road to hell was paved with good intentions’, and his story man,,,his story fucks me UP. He’s so goddamned tragic and it’s so devestating to see someone who was such a good person and princeling turn into a desperate mess forced to run a young mother off of a cliff because of an oath his father made him take in a moment of anger and grief. Falls from grace are amazing, but fuck, they h u r t

Bloodborne: Lady Maria. Not only is she really fuckin hot, she’s also a terrifying, capable fighter with a strong sense of morality and guilt at her war crimes, which is even sexier than her killing you with her flaming blood magic. Pair that with her being one of the first hunters, having a tragic failed redemption arc, and being essentially a vampire on top of it all, and whooo boy no one else in Bloodborne takes the cake. Her fight gave me legit goosebumps and is my favorite in the game with how much it feels like an honorable dance between two hunters; I just wish that we could have given her a kinder release than another death. Like knowing that she didn’t have to guard the clocktower from us and her failing in protecting the Orphan of Kos allowed the Nightmare to finally find peace, letting her fade away knowing that the damage she unknowingly brought to so many hunters was finally being undone.

Wings of Fire: Darkstalker. Tossup between him and Winter, really, but I think Darkstalker won out bc more people dislike him than they do with Winter. I think Darkstalker was a really interesting, fascinating character whose fall into becoming an antagonist primarily swung about due to him stubbornly refusing to get better coping mechanisms. He was an exceptionally powerful kid placed in a bad home who got no help until it was too late, and I really feel for him on that one. I do wish he got the chance to redeem himself with all the messy feelings and bitterness that came along with it, and I do think that people blew his crimes out of proportion (which. He did awful shit like mind-controlling but before it all went to hell, he was being used as a war weapon, so what do you expect), but he was also a delightfully intelligent dragon and I feel like he could have actually been a good king, if he was never trained to see total control over people as the only way to get things done

#ask game #ask meme #thanks for the ask!#now i really really wanna play bloodborne again hhh #reply #vivifrage

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diyunho · 4 years

Text

The Joker x Reader -”What Death Tastes Like”

Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; the young woman didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late. Y/N always had a fascination for the much older King of Gotham and despite the consequences, maybe it’s finally time to do something about it.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

“Hi daddy,” Emma enters the kitchen and you follow, immediately greeting The Joker.

“Hello Mister J.”

“Pumpkin,” he acknowledges his daughter. “Miss Crane,” he growls at your presence and you can’t help it:

“I like your purple shirt Mister J; makes you look ravishing.”

“Oh yeah?” he scoffs, used to the 22 year old throwing this kind of stuff his way on a regular basis.

“Definitely!” you approach and point at his can of grape juice. “Can I take a sip?”

“Since when you like grape juice?’ The Clown Prince of Crime frowns but hands over the container anyway.

“I don’t,” you taste the sweet liquid and continue: “I just wanted to touch something your lips touched.”

“That’s a new one!” he rolls his eyes and snatches back his drink while Emma closes the fridge in a hurry, appalled you always flirt with her father.

“Keep her on a leash!” J advises his offspring and you snicker as she pushes you out of the kitchen.

“I can’t believe you say those things to him!” Emma gives you a nudge on the hallway, amused and horrified in the same time. “He could be your dad!”

“But he’s not,” you wink, dodging her grip. “He could be my daddy though!”

“You shameless jerk!!” she laughs and starts chasing you. “How dare you??!!”

“He’s really hot for being 40-ish!” the enthusiastic Y/N teases more, speeding up so she won’t get caught. “I’m going to marry him and I’ll be your step mom. You’ll have to call me mommy!”

“Whaaaattt??!!” Emma shouts and The King of Gotham shakes his head because he can still perceive your aberrations: the truth is he’s uncertain if that’s all they are, thus the dilemma J doesn’t care to solve regardless.

You quickly run into Emma bedroom and snatch a pillow in order to protect yourself from her attack.

“I love your dad!” you grin and she keeps relentlessly hitting you with her fluffy cushion, annoyed:

“I hate you!! I totally hate you!!!”

You suddenly start coughing and your best friend halts her rampage, concerned.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! Where’s your med?”

You pull the vial out of your jean’s pocket and she opens it while your cough intensifies; Emma fingers tremble at the sight of blood stains on the palm of your hand.

“Here, take this. Two?”

“Y-yes,” you struggle to talk and swallow the tablets, finding it difficult to calm down without the remedy you failed to ingest earlier before the worse happened.

“Come’ere,” she carefully sits you on the bed and begins wiping the red spots off your skin with a clean tissue. “There you go… Deep breaths, OK?” the young woman urges on the verge of crying: although she’s used to your episodes, she can’t cope with the thought of losing her best friend.

Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; she didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late.

“Better?” Emma analyzes your face and you can tell how upset she is, that’s why you try to distract her the best way you know how.

“Is your dad wearing a new cologne?”

“Huh?”

“He smells sooooo good, I swear I get this uncontrollable desire to kiss him all over,” you cough a bit more and she slaps your thigh, outraged.

“Would you stop it???!!!”

“I think he’ll miss me when I’m gone,” you playfully giggle. “Who else would flirt with an old man in his 40’s?!”

“Stupid girl…” Emma’s voice quivers since she doesn’t like to be reminded you’ll leave her. You both are silent for a few moments before she gathers the strength to continue the planned evening.

“I’m going to prepare you a nice, warm bath, then we’ll tag along with my dad at his Neon Devil club, alright?” she pouts and you don’t have the heart to admit you don’t feel like going out anymore.

“Sure… … sounds perfect,” you sigh and underline. “Only if I can spend some time alone with Mister Joker in the VIP section.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Emma concludes and you won’t quit.

“I didn’t say anything bad, you’re the perv for thinking indecencies regarding a man and a woman…alone… in the luscious VIP room… a few drinks… music blasting… attractiveness mooing to be unleashed…”

“Mooing???” she burst out laughing, forgetting she was about to admonish on your crazy ideas…again.

“Yup, mooing…” you proclaim with delight. “It’s a very sexy term, won’t you agree? … … Sexy like your dad!” you immediately blur out and stomp towards the bathroom while she hunts you down with the only purpose of shutting down the outpour of nonsense flowing out of you.

***************

Neon Devil Club, 10:36pm

“Are you going to dance?” Emma’s red cheeks pop up next to you.

“No, not tonight. Don’t worry, I’m having fun!” you point at the two empty cocktail glasses in front of you, still working on your third one. “I think I might call it a night soon, I’m tired.”

“OK, Y/N. Let me know when, we’ll both go!” she yells over the deafening tune.

“Stay and have fun, I can get a ride!” you glare at The Joker sitting at the bar a few inches away from you, totally absorbed by his text messages.

“Are you sure?” Emma hesitates and you poke J’s arm in order to get his attention.

He finally looks up and his daughter pleads:

“Daddy, can you take Y/N back to our house when she’s ready? I want her to be there when I return, this way we can gossip after the wild intercourse I’m gonna have with one of these lucky guys!”

The Clown Prince of Crime stares at her, displeased with the comments.

“Hilarious,” he growls and she jumps up and down, excited to see Bane’s son in the crowd.

“Don’t get mad, daddy!” she pecks his cheek. “I’m joking… Maybe…” Emma chuckles at his grumpiness and you are proud of her achievement in mocking the forever serious Joker: despite the nickname, the green haired menace is not the epitome of joyfulness.

“Are you supposed to have alcohol with the medications you’re taking?” he gestures at your cocktail.

“Nope,” you serenely confess and guzzle down more. “I’m a burden to my father and he doesn’t even know it,” you sniffle and J senses something strange about your affirmation. “He locks himself in the lab for days, researching on ways to overcome my terminal cancer. Did you know Evelyn left him two weeks ago?” you ask and The King feels cornered; you’re probably tipsy and in mood to chat while he’s not. “She’s perfect for him and he let her go… He would ignore her for days, immersed in his ridiculous project of saving me. The amazing Doctor Crane can’t take the hint this is a battle he won’t win. I made peace with what’s happening to me, but he can’t...,” you wave at the bartender for another glass. “Why won’t my father accept the inevitable outcome?” the pain in your tone prompts J to mutter:

“He just tries to postpone the inevitable.”

“I’m grateful for his help,” you ramble on. “I take remedies he makes for me and it’s nice to avoid the traditional chemo and losing my hair. I don’t look like I’m dying, correct? If you wouldn’t weren’t aware of my illness, you couldn’t tell, right?”

“Yes,” The impatient Joker signals the bartender to halt mixing your fresh drink; in his opinion you had enough.

“I got my test results this morning, “ you disclose, pouting. “They’re bad…” Y/N inhales the rest of her liquid courage and taps on the marble counter, disappointed at her own statement. “Did you ever taste death?” the weird question makes him taunt.

“Naahhh.”

“This is what it tastes like,” the heartbroken Y/N softly kisses The Joker and his remark hurts more than her disappointing routine evaluation:

“Strawberry margarita?”

You hop off your high chair so fast he realizes you’re flustered; it was the first time you kissed him, not that kind of kiss anyway and he completely dismissed your candor in the worst possible way.

“Can we go please?” you intensely glare at your sandals and J opts out of attempting to patch up his callous reply; possibly the best decision regarding these circumstances simply because it doesn’t affect him at all.

“Sure, we can bail,” he grumbles and escorts you out of the club, wondering if you are done talking about matters of no importance to him.

****************

The master bedroom is cracked opened and you knock until The Joker bothers to acknowledge your existence.

“What is it?”

You sneak inside, adamant to request a tiny favor.

“Can I watch TV in here?”

“Why?” he wiggles in the middle of his bed, certainly not thrilled at your proposal.

“I won’t inconvenience you, ok?” you evade his inquiry and still being a bit tipsy briefly aids your plan; your drag your feet to the humongous mattress, then slip inside the purple sheets at the edge of the bed. “You know… If I would have lived longer, I bet you would have married me,” you gaze at the man relaxing close to your body.

The Joker nonexistent eyebrows go up so high it’s possibly a new record: why did Emma have to stay at the club instead of distracting you from whatever the hell this is?!

“We would have had at least 4 kids…” you continue your story. “ I’m young so every two years I could have been convinced to get pregnant; we would have had a small army of little Jokers and Y/Ns… I picked a few names already, would you like to hear them?”

“NO!!” he sucks on his teeth, irritated.

“Hmm…” you get discouraged yet it doesn’t last. “ You would have died at 65…”

“Why would I die at 65?!” J interrupts and his interest gives you a boost of much needed confidence.

“Car accident; you’re a shitty driver,” you lift your shoulders up, instantly correcting your sentence. “I meant reckless.”

The Clown Prince of Crime huffs and the fact that he engaged into this monologue of yours hopefully suggests he won’t chase you away until you finish.

“After your demise I would have mourned you for a decent amount of months, then I would have remarried a guy my age, this way I’m not in any danger of becoming a widow for the second time. I would obviously have our children too so not to worry, I would have survived without you.”

“Awesome, I was anxious you won’t overcome the grief,” his sassiness triggers your approval.

“Indeed; yet I have to warn you: if you ever cheated on me, I would have asked my father to create a special virus to obliterate you from the face of the planet!”

“Why are you shouting?!” The Joker scratches his chin, confused about your attitude.

“Sorry,” you take it down a notch. “I always get emotional when I think about this part…”

“Is this soap opera of yours almost done?” the impatience emerges; I suppose you tested his composure enough.

“I really like you,” you cut off his vexation. “You should be happy a young woman would crave an older man in his 40’s or 50’s,” you snort while adding to his growing restlessness.

“I think it’s time for you and the alcohol in your system to take a nap!” J hints at your departure and you abruptly bring it up since he’s basically throwing you out:

“Do you like me? You never get mad or chase me when I flirt with you…” you scoot over and cuddle next to him.

“What are you doing?!” J gets pissed at your boldness.

“I’m cold,“ you lie without a problem and he’s done with the dumb night he had to put up with so far.

“Get out!” The King of Gotham snaps and his sudden aggressiveness throws you off.

“I want to stay and watch TV; I promise I’ll be super quiet from now on. Cross my heart and hope to die!” you smile and your silly pun doesn’t have the outcome you hoped for.

“You know why I indulge a shallow brat’s idiotic flirting?!” he raises his voice and you shrivel because you realize he won’t utter anything nice at this point. “Who wouldn’t feel sorry for a walking corpse, hm? Despite what people think, I’m not that insensitive!”

You gulp and slowly roll out of bed, trying not to cry in front of him; you don’t remember sensing a stronger pain in your life, not even after you got sick.

“You’re so mean, “ you whisper and can’t stop the first tears streaming down your face. “I wouldn’t have married you anyway,” you rush out of the master bedroom and The Joker reprises his movie, undisturbed at the events he created out of spite.

“Fuck…” he mumbles when it hits: Emma will chew him alive if she finds about his behavior; would you mention this to her? Or she would guess something went wrong if you depart from the mansion when she asked you to stay? The only person that counts is bound to make him rethink his awful actions; his daughter wouldn’t forgive him unless he patches up things. Might as well get it over with before he lands in hotter waters.

“Uggghhhh,” The Joker puckers his lips and contemplates his choices: not too many, thus he ends up in front of your bedroom 10 minutes after the fight.

He can discern your sobbing and opens the door without knocking because another human’s privacy is simply not his issue. You are standing by the windows and turn towards him, mad you didn’t lock the entrance.

“Your company is required in the master bedroom,” J elaborates on the subject and Y/N’s silence evokes a faint apology. “I don’t think you’re a walking corpse… … …”

No reaction.

“Come on, let’s watch TV in my room…”

“Why would you need a shallow brat’s idiotic company?” you blow your nose in a tissue and emphasize. “I don’t want your pity.”

“Crane’s a genius but the trait is clearly skipping a generation,” his way of attempting to restore the mood totally sucks. “It’s not pity.”

“What is it then?” you wipe your tears and he has no clue himself.

“Not…pity.”

Are you debating on his offer?

“Come on,” J grabs your hand and your resistance works a miracle nonetheless. “I’m sorry, alright? Not a word to Emma, deal? Or your dad, he would probably create a goddamned virus to exterminate me from this planet. Don’t laugh, it’s not funny,” he sulks, crabby at the idea of being killed for offending Scarecrow’s princess.

“I won’t…” you promise and you’re actually surprised when he lifts you up, guiding your legs around his waist.

“You can sleep in my bed if you want to… until Emma gets back,” The Joker recommends and you hide your astonishment the best way you can.

“Sleep like in dozing of or…?” you wish to determine and the response doesn’t fail to deepen the mystery:

“As I said, genius sometimes skips a generation.”

The King strolls out of the bedroom with Y/N clinging to him while he lifts her higher in his arms, closing his eyes when she kisses him.

And the only thing The Joker can think of for the moment is that if death tastes like this, it’s not the worst way to go.