#but John either doesn't know how to give that to her or is avoiding knowing that its his responsibility to try
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Not done thinking about John and his nana. I wonder if he remembers what she looked like. What she sounded like. If he ever sees anything of her in Kiriona. If he looks for it, hoping once he sees it he'll remember what to be looking for
#there's something very poignent about Nana as a source of love in the young life of a man who had so much love in him to give#and as the first heartbreak for a man whose grief would one day carve the solar system to itty bitty bits#and as the only family to a man who has found himself the only family to a girl who needs a lot more from him than he's capable of giving#he remembers being at nana's and having almost nothing and being happy#so deep down he must be able to understand that nice clothes and titles and parades in her honor do jackshit for Kiriona#what she needs is something like nana and her fat brave little dog#but John either doesn't know how to give that to her or is avoiding knowing that its his responsibility to try#there's just something in him teaching Gideon her name in the language he most likely learned from his nana#that makes me hope he hasn't forgotten#the locked tomb#gideon nav#kiriona gaia#emperor john gaius#john's nana#i think I need to start a tag for her at this rate
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Happiness is a Butterfly
It's been literal months since I read @ceilidho's divorce AU and guess what it is still rattling around in my brain because it is just scrumptious.
This is what I vanished to work on lol
Pairing| John Price x F!Reader Rating| E Word Count| 10.6k Kinks/Content/Warnings| 3rd person reader, Post Divorce John Price x Wife!Reader, Attempting to co parent, John is obnoxiously agreeable until he no longer wants to be, there is the s l i g h t e s t mention where reader is worried John might snap but he doesn't scout's honor, squirting, unprotected PiV, blow job, face sitting, unplanned pregnancy, childbirth, reproductive coercion if you squint, baby trapping if you squint, it is a lil dubby because John doesn't do anything behind Reader's back but he steamrolls the fuck out of her into getting what he wants lmao
The words choke in her throat like they don’t want to leave.
Maybe that’s a higher power giving her just one last out to change her mind- to not say the four words that will upend the lives of everyone in the household.
She can barely bring herself to look at him.
In the decade they’ve been married his temper has never been something she’s been afraid of, but in that moment it is all she can think about; every headline she’s ever read of a soldier snapping and killing his wife and children floating in her mind like a neon sign flashing danger.
She’s never feared his temper but she’s also never croaked out the words I want a divorce to him before either.
Her arms cross over her body as her gaze settles a bit off to the side of him. Everything about her body language is closed off and cagey as he looks up from his desk- no doubt having been mentally preparing for another round of come to bed, love - in a minute darling, almost done only to be caught off guard by the actual request.
He doesn’t answer her as he sits back in his chair, looking at her.
She chooses now to choke out the words because she really doesn’t think she has it in her to say the words with him standing. He’s sitting- still imposing as ever even if he’s always been magnanimous around the house- and she’s on the other side of the room avoiding eye contact.
He stands, still silent as the grave, before walking towards her in slow, measured steps and coming to a halt right in front of her. The ground has become absolutely fascinating as she refuses to meet his gaze.
As his hand raises she imperceptibly starts to shift, but absolutely nothing escapes John’s notice. “Don’t,” he starts before clearing his throat, his tone softer as he speaks again, “Don’t do that. You know me better than that.”
This time she doesn’t move as he goes to cup her face- takes her chin in hand and forces her head up. “Look me in the eye and say it again.”
It takes a moment for her to scrape together her nerves, eyes picking up off the floor to meet his. She’s not sure entirely what she expected but she thinks she assumed there’d be more of a reaction. He’s watching her- thinking- as she stumbles over the words.
Doubt twists in her gut as once again she squeaks out “I want a divorce.”
“Is there someone else?” he asks evenly.
“No! John I’d never-” It’s true; ever since he’d turned her head all those years ago she’s been blind where other men are concerned.
“Okay,” he soothes with his thumb against her cheek and she’s suddenly aware that this is probably not how this conversation should be going. “I believe you. Are you sure this is what you want?”
She’s been agonizing over this for months. She’s not even sure what gauntlet was thrown down to make her say enough is enough and have today be the day. Nothing spectacular has happened.
Maybe that’s reason enough. His job is always just the higher priority. While he always ensures his family is cared for while away, he drops everything for work in a way that simply isn’t reciprocated at home. Even when he’s physically here he spends so much time locked in this damn office he might as well be back at base.
Nothing has changed after begging and pleading and she is tired with a bone weary ache.
Are you sure this is what you want? Echos in her head while he awaits an answer.
“Yes.” No. “I’m so tired of being alone,” she confesses. “I’m tired of constantly having to beg you to be here even when you’re home. If I am going to be by myself raising the boys then I just need to be by myself.”
He doesn’t seem surprised by the words in the slightest. Probably because they’ve been having the same argument for years. This is not the first time she’s been frustrated with his job.
“Okay,” she can’t believe her ears with his easy acceptance. “If this is what you want, then okay.”
She sobs- alone- in their bed like the entire situation isn’t her fault, burying her face in the bedding to stifle herself from the kids. John’s gone.
Everything goes about as smoothly as it can. John doesn’t fight her on anything. With his schedule there’s no point in ironing out a visitation schedule through the courts. They agree to just work it out when they can, given how he can be called away at a moment’s notice.
They’re adults. They can handle this.
Once her nerves settle from the initial shock of actually saying the words to him, and she’s had a few days to think on his reaction, she decides she’s pissed.
The easy acceptance ruffles her feathers in a way she can’t put to words. She gave him a decade of her life, a home, three children- has kept everything running seamlessly while he jumped in and out of their lives to answer the call of duty and he didn’t even try to fight for her.
If he was being sullen or grouchy with her it would be easier to process everything- all the things set into motion that she started.
Perhaps she’s projecting. But he just acts like nothing is amiss as he comes by to pick up the boys or drop them off or just stop by to spend time with them.
She wakes up on the 15th and right on time she is awoken by a ding from her phone.
Perhaps, she thinks, it is a lapse in judgment to kick him out for not being around, given that she’s now cut into what already little time he has to spend with them. Isn’t that the focus of her argument? That it’s too difficult for the boys?
Their boys- three of them, each one a head taller than the last- are understandably devastated and struggling to deal with very big, very complex feelings that result in major meltdowns and fights. They blame her and they’re not wrong.
Then one day, when old habits die hard and she confides in John tearfully one day as he’s returned from his latest deployment to see them, while she can’t say it stops all together she can say there’s a marked improvement when they come back.
What did he tell them?
Her phone dings on the 1st like it always does every other week and her agitation is palpable.
She doesn’t even need to look at the notification.
John isn’t missing a beat this entire time and he’s driving her crazy.
The notification is from the bank, of an entirely too large deposit to an account that only she has access to. John’s name is not on it and he can’t touch anything in it.
He can however put money in it.
He is as steadfast and agreeable as always while stubborn enough to just bulldoze into getting his way.
She knows she should be grateful. That so many ex husbands abandon their children and former wives in favor of some shiny new girlfriend. That it would be so easy for him to throw her “if I'm going to be by myself then I'm going to be by myself” back in her face.
Her career had been put on hold with the boys. When everyone was older and in school and didn’t need her so much the plan had been to go back. And then John had kept putting babies in her and the timeline got pushed further back with the subsequent births of their two youngest children.
It would have been so easy for him to tell her to just figure it out herself, that this is what she wants and she can navigate life on her own just fine.
Instead he deposits entirely too much money into an account he can’t access.
She’s not sure why today is different, but she hits her limit and calls him. They’ve never actually spoken about his little transactions.
“You alright, then, love?” She remembers deciding to pick her battles and not harp that she’s not his love anymore.
“What are you doing?”
There’s a brief pause.
“…I’m on base? About to take my lunch, actually. Maybe you can -“ she cuts him off before he can get any further.
“I’m not calling to ask about your day and you know it,” she snaps irritably. “I’m asking about the deposit. What are you doing?”
John, once upon a time, used to tease about his spoiled, hot headed wife. She knows she is being the epitome of spoiled and ungrateful but come on- no one is this agreeable about a divorce. She doesn’t trust it.
“I have no idea what you mean, love.” He assures her good naturedly.
“You have no idea how several thousands have been deposited into my account?”
She wants to reach through the phone to strangle him when she hears that even tempered laugh of his.
“I know how the money got deposited, love- I did it myself. I don’t know why you’re questioning my motives. We both know you haven’t worked outside the home in years- you need money to keep everything going.”
“John, it's too much. I know you know how much I spend in a month!”
He sighs. She can picture him sitting at his desk on base. Sprawled out in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I don’t want you making decisions out of desperation.” He responds evenly. “The plan wasn’t for you to go to work until the youngest one’s in school next year. You’ve been out of the market for years, I can only imagine an employer trying to use that to short change you.”
He lets out a sigh, and she feels something akin to guilt for freaking out on him.
John’s always been the one to make the best out of a shit situation. To try to steady the boat in the storm. Even when his own wife (ex wife) is the one making waves.
“I don’t want you making decisions out of desperation,” he repeats. “I just want you to be able to raise the boys comfortably without worrying about making ends meet.”
The something coils tighter in her gut.
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes.
“You’re alright, sweetheart,” he assures her and once again she has to bite back a not your sweetheart anymore.
“Now,” there’s the slightest shift to his tone and feels herself falling back into old habits again. As keyed in to him as a dog awaiting her master’s command. “What I was going to say earlier- I’m about to take my lunch. I would appreciate it if you could bring me the boys. I’d like to see them today.”
She can’t very well tell him no now can she?
The boys are her heart and soul but she sees them for exactly who they are- three rambunctious little spitfires always up to something. Good boys, but curious and mischievous. The curse of having smart children.
Until they’re on base at least. All three are quiet as church mice, gathered behind their mother and peering at the soldiers from behind her skirt.
She can’t truly correct the guards at the gate when they greet her as Mrs. Price- she hasn’t changed her name and isn’t sure if she’s going to.
It’s not hers anymore, but it’s still her boys’ name and things are easier. She’d likely have to retrain herself to respond to her maiden name.
The boys are hot on her heels until they stumble across John- as soon as he sees them, dropping a knee with open arms the trio are off like a shot as peals of “Daddy!!” fill the air.
“You can just call me after you’ve finished lunch and I can come get them,” she states amicably, watching John as he wrangles the three of them. The sooner she can get out of here, the better off she’ll be (because God help her, watching him with their oldest two was how she ended up pregnant with the third, and watching him with them now just makes her yearn for something she no longer has any claim to).
Immediately the three boys are protesting, albeit not quite as vocally as they normally would.
“Mummy, no!” “Mum!” “But it’ll be fun!” the trio state their cases to varying degrees.
John shushes the three of them gently to keep them from winding up too much before turning to her. “Come on now, sweetheart, for old time’s sake, hm?”
Their little three stooges voice their approval of that idea, chiming in with various degrees of “Yeah!”
Ultimately it’s the desire to keep her children complacent that has her agreeing. She doesn’t want a scene.
Unfortunately, a (albeit mild) scene is what she ends up having anyway.
She knows (is hopeful, at least) that her oldest doesn’t mean anything by it while they’re waiting for their food and asks “So what time are we going to nana’s later?”
Her eyes snap to him about the same moment as John’s snaps to her, and she’s deliberately trying to avoid his gaze.
Why, oh why, could he not have asked either before or after lunch?
“We’ll probably get ready after we go back home.” she’s careful to keep her tone neutral.
“How fun,” Ah shit, she can hear the suspicion in John’s voice. “Any reason in particular, or just a fun weekend?”
“Just for the night. Mum’s picking us up tomorrow. Right Mum?”
The server chooses that moment to bring their food, which gives her a moment to figure out how the fuck she’s gonna weasle out of this conversation.
“Yes, I’ll come get you after breakfast.”
“Could have called me.”
“That didn’t seem appropriate. They’ll be fine with my mum.” Her gaze drops to her plate, knowing full well if she looks up that his eyes will lock on hers.
“Don’t see what’s inappropriate about me watching my own kids.”
It’s not that she’s happy to squabble with John where the kids have a front row seat, but there is a dark part of her that delights in watching him. He has been obnoxiously agreeable this entire time and the cracks are showing. It makes her feel like she’s dealing with another human being, because she knows she’s got her moments where she loses her mind during all of this and it’s beyond frustrating that he is so dauntless no matter the circumstances in every situation.
“It’s not-” Jesus, does she tell him? What does that conversation look like? “I have plans tonight.”
John is not a stupid man and she can see the moment he realizes she’s not planning a girl’s night out for herself.
That she hadn’t thought it appropriate to ask him to take the kids so she can go on a date with another man.
“I’m watching them,” he asserts before returning to his plate.
“John-”
“I said I’m watching them,” his tone is softer, but leaves no room for argument. Conversation over.
There’s nothing wrong with her date. He is well mannered and polite, attentive when she speaks. No obvious red flags- he doesn’t dismiss her stories, doesn’t shirk back at the mention of her three children, isn’t rude to the server and isn’t texting on his phone opposed to actually engaging with her.
There is nothing wrong with him and for an idle moment she pictures what her could have been like had she married a man like him instead of John. The 9-5, the set routine, the security and reliability of knowing that he is coming home at his regular time and he’ll be there for the boys various sports and activities.
And yet all she can think of is John, who is sitting in their home, watching their children. Of the late night returns from deployment where they’d have their stolen alone time- quiet as church mice so as not to wake the boys who most assuredly would not be going back to sleep if they knew their father was home.
Of the delighted squeals of their children when they come into the room to wake her for breakfast only to find him in bed like nothing was amiss.
(And yes there was always the heartbreak that followed him walking out the door, the anxiety between phone calls that would brew until she once again could assess that he is alive and not dying blown to bits on the other side of the world)
There is nothing wrong with her date but he is not John, and that is an obstacle he will never be able to overcome.
She is safely deposited on her doorstep with polite pleasantries. She thinks he knows, has a kind smile and understanding eyes as she carefully tells him I’m sorry, I thought I was ready but I don’t think I am.
Someone will recognize him as a catch but John never let go of the hold on her heart. Someone will want this man but all she wants is John.
It’s not as late as she thought it would be when she comes home- a fact that John immediately comments on when her eyes land on him while searching for him.
“Well that didn’t last long.” The air feels different from before she left home, and she stands stock still as he rises off the couch and strides towards her.
“I,” she starts and stops, choking on the words. Why the hell did she ever agree to letting him babysit again?
Yes he’s the father of her children and yes she wants him to spend time with them whenever possible but this is just so incredibly awkward for her.
“I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again,” she finishes lamely.
“I would imagine not, if the date ended that quickly. We were always out for hours, weren’t we sweetheart?”
She can’t quite get a read on him but the entire tone of the conversation is… odd. Hell, the entire conversation is odd.
John is not one of her girlfriends for her to cheekily report back how her date went. He’s her ex husband for God’s sake.
“We were,” she agrees amicably- mind spinning with memories of the various times they had stumbled into bed early in the morning, or crawled into the backseat of John’s car like horny teenagers or-
One moment her thoughts are full of the various times John had folded her up like a piece of paper, and the next she’s aware that he’s closed the distance between them while she’s distracted.
“Makes me wonder if that was your plan all along,” he ponders out loud. She squeaks in protest, rooted to the ground and not even attempting to put more space between them.
“Was it? Having me home with the kids while you were out with another man?” His tone holds far more warmth than one would expect of a man all but accusing his (ex) wife of being a hotwife.
John’s hands grip at either side of her hips, thumbs rubbing in affectionate circles. She doesn’t quite know what to do with her own- she can feel the shift in the room. She hasn’t been with anyone since the last time they slept together, and there’s only so much fucking herself can due to take the edge off.
She can’t mimic the weight of a man’s body on top of hers- of his voice rumbling in her ears, the body heat radiating off of him as he coaxes one orgasm after another out of her.
She doesn’t want just a man though, in the broad scope of the term. It’s John.
He stops stroking at her before making a few deliberate swipes. It dawns on her that he’s feeling at the seam of her lingerie set underneath her dress.
“What’s this?” He asks, hands roaming and squeezing at her sides- possibly seeing if he can gauge which set is hidden away by feeling how the fabric wraps around her.
It’s a new one. While she hadn’t been sure about sleeping with her date, the thought of wearing lingerie that at one point had been meant for John felt wrong.
There’s a part of her willing to admit that at the rate things are going, he’s likely going to be christening this one also by the end of the night.
“Were you planning on showing this to him?” John’s enjoying torturing her- dangling the man she wasn’t ever all that interested in just to bait her.
“No, I-,” she hadn’t really thought about it. There was no plan. She was going on a date, so she put on lingerie like she always has.
Like she always did- for him. John would make a game of figuring out which set she had on.
“I just want you,” the truth bubbles out of her throat unbidden.
John descends on her like a man starved- fingers digging into her hips with a grip that she knows is going to leave bruises later.
“Bed,” she mumbles between kisses. Given how John immediately starts herding her backwards towards the bedroom, he’s clearly on board with this plan.
Once the door is shut, the pair cross the room before collapsing against the bed.
Clothes are shed in a hurry, pried off with little regard as they’re shucked to the floor.
“This one looks lovely on you,” John murmurs in praise against her skin as he gropes at the lace adorning her body, dropping to his knees on the side of the bed.
God has she missed this- missed him. The feeling is clearly mutual from the way he busies himself between her legs, lips peppering kisses across her inner thighs quickly while he makes his way towards the spot she wants him most, the gusset of her thong pulled aside.
Just as his breath is fanning over the core of her he pulls back slightly. Her thigh twitches in frustration, so close to finally having the nirvana of his tongue lapping at her only for him to have to be a tease.
“Has anyone else gotten a taste of this sweet cunt?” He asks, eyes on her with an intensity that has her squirming.
“No! There hasn’t been- John, I swear I haven’t-“ she protests.
“I believe you,” he assures her.
She probably should ask if the same could be said for him- for her own sake if nothing else. But she’s already made a slew of questionable decisions that haven’t gone the way she wants, and she errs on the side of not asking questions she doesn’t want an answer to.
Her eyes roll immediately once his mouth is on her. His hands grip at the underside of her thigh, holding them apart to give him unfettered access.
“John,” somehow she can’t quite wrap her mind around the fact that he’s got her back in their bed. Everything is novel and familiar at the same time, and she is overwhelmed by how easy it is to fall back into old habits.
He pulls away just long enough to speak, “I missed you so much,” before going back to eating her out.
John is a man on a mission, and he is familiar enough with her body to know exactly how to get her where he wants her. He also knows all of her tells- God damn him. No sooner has he dragged her to the precipice of her orgasm does he sit back, content to let her dangle but stopping just shy of letting her finally topple over.
“Wh-why?” She whimpers, lust, anticipation and disappointment curling in her gut.
He’s so gentle with her when he takes her left hand in his own, thumb running over her knuckles in soothing movements.
“Where’s your ring, sweetheart?” his question is a non sequitur if she’s ever heard one, head spinning trying to catch up through the haze of pleasure she’d been drowning in just a moment ago.
“My ring?” She mimics more on reflex than anything else, mind still reeling to catch up.
“Yes, sweetheart, your ring.” He repeats, eyeline following hers as her gaze shifts to the jewelry box sitting on the vanity.
There’s no written standard on how long to keep your ring before getting rid of it, and she hadn’t been sure about it. Figured she could always get rid of it later- when it’s never a question of if she’s making the right decision. Even with the ink dried on the paperwork finalizing their divorce, the ring feels like the final nail in the coffin for their marriage.
So she put it in her jewelry box, where it is safe but out of mind and she could worry about it later.
She never thought for a second that ‘later’ would arrive in the form of her ex husband telling her “Go get it and bring it here.”
It’s a beautiful ring; everything she ever wanted growing up. The cut, the size, the setting- John did a lovely job when he picked it out all those years ago.
Gonna be an officer’s wife, sweetheart he’d told her after she’d accepted his proposal. Gotta look the part.
Surely no one can blame her for not gnashing at the bit to part with it?
She hesitates for a moment before ultimately deciding to just do as she’s told- John didn’t tell her to put it back on. So she holds it pinched between her thumb and pointer.
In an alternate dimension, where she’d gone back with her date and let him charm her out of her new lingerie, there would be some insecurity over her body. Bringing three tiny lives into the world takes its toll in the form of stretch marks and loose skin and some extra weight that just clings to her like a needy toddler- but any time John has seen her naked, he is as moon eyed as he was the first time all those years ago. Like he can’t quite believe his luck and he’s not entirely sure she’s real.
Tonight is no exception. As soon as she’s in arms reach his hands settle on her hips, pulling her closer to him.
“We’re going to lay some ground rules, and then I’m going to fuck you into the mattress. Am I clear, pet?” Warmth and affection roll off of his tone in waves despite his words. All she can do is nod dumbly.
“This,” John takes the ring from her before sliding it back on her finger,” stays where it belongs. Right here.”
He pulls her even closer- she has to crane her neck to look up at him. “There’s no more dates with other men. That stops tonight.”
Another easy acquiescence. She nods in agreement.
He spins her slowly, facing away from him and then pulling at her hips so she’s sitting on him. She starts to hover, holding herself up until he swats at the side of her ass. “Now is not the time to play with me,” he warns.
She settles, feeling the mattress dip underneath their combined weight. John clearly has a plan in mind as he guides her to spread her legs, a chill running up her spine as the air laps at her wet cunt. His erection presses heavy at her ass, trapped between his body and her own.
His left middle and ring finger tap at her lower lip and she opens her mouth on reflex. John doesn’t even need to tell her to suck, tongue laving over the thick digits automatically, the same way she would his cock.
“I’m not mad,” he whispers in her ear, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You tried and tried to tell me, and I didn’t take you seriously, did I?”
She can only assume that this is all rhetorical- that there’s no way he can expect an answer out of her considering she’s gagging on his fingers.
“As soon as you told me you wanted a divorce in my office, I knew what it was. You needed my attention, and I wasn’t listening. I don’t blame you. Hell, I practically forced your hand. So I’m not mad,” he reiterates.
“But you’ve got my full attention now, lovely- I can promise you that.”
She twists as much as she’s able, watching John out of the corner of her eye while still sucking; her tongue tasting the metal of his ring as it ran along the base of it.
“We,” he pulls his fingers from her mouth, grinning when she chases his hand slightly, “are going to work this out. I love you, and I have no intention of letting another man raise my children.”
It would be easy to say the arousal dripping from her is left from when John’s mouth was on her, but that would be a lie. Him taking her in hand- literally- and telling her he has no intention of letting her go is definitely doing it for her.
Wet fingers grab at her jaw and turn her head, making her melt into his hold as he kisses her. “There’s my good girl,” his voice is a rumbling timber purring in her ear.
She whines when those two fingers trace down her body- an appreciative squeeze of her breasts trailing to grope at her ass before finally slipping between her legs.
“John,” his name is a whimper against his lips as she wiggles in anticipation.
“So impatient,” he admonishes gently as he works his fingers inside of her.
Warmed by their body heat, his ring isn’t cold against her skin by any stretch of the imagination. If anything, it feels like a white hot branding iron everywhere he touches. That tonight is a reclamation as much as a reunion as he crooks his fingers inside of her.
It was easy to ignore the need that burned in her at night. She’d run herself ragged during the day chasing after children and keeping all her ducks in a row. With John gone, it was easy to shove the desire down and ignore it.
But oh now that he has her in his arms, fingers buried in her as he works her closer to her peak? She feels like she’s on fire. Greed burns at her insides, needing more. Nothing short of climbing inside of him would abate the desire roaring in her body.
Her hips cant in short motions, following the movement of his hand eagerly.
As reluctant as she is to stop kissing him, she can feel a crick in her neck starting to form from keeping her head turned for so long.
Her head lulls against his shoulder when his free hand slips under the lace of her bra and grips one nipple between his middle finger and thumb, his pointer finger teasing the hardened nub in a way he knows drives her absolutely insane.
“Oh my God,” she squeaks just a breath too loud, her hand immediately clamping over her mouth as John pinches her nipple just shy of pain in reprimand. “Not too loud,” he reminds her, mollified when she nods in acknowledgement.
He’s got her panting in need in record time, a small part of her suspicious that he’s going to stop her short of her climax again. The anxiety only serves to fuel the fire burning in her gut, giving the final push to tip her over the edge.
Apparently neither trust her ability to be quiet when her climax hits, because John’s hand abandons teasing her breast in favor of also making sure her cries are muffled. The other is soaked as she squirts, twitching and bucking in his hold.
“Need to shove your face in a pillow,” he comments dryly, a shit eating grin on his face as he takes in her blissed out expression.
He knows her inside and out; knows exactly how long she needs to recover before he’s tapping at her side and prompting her up. “Get on the bed and lay on your back.”
She complies immediately on shaky legs, standing to turn and crawling to the middle of the bed.
John is just as delicious now as he was over a decade ago, and her brain threatens to short circuit watching him crawl over top of her. There’s more grey hairs and fine lines creasing around his eyes, and her heart still thrums in her ribcage like a hummingbird.
She relaxes against the mattress, trusting entirely that John has everything handled. He positions her how he wants, settling between her legs and rubbing the tip of her cock against her wet entrance.
“Please, John, I can’t wait anymore,” she begs, feeling like she’s about to lose her mind. The edge should be taken off considering John’s rather patiently gotten her off already once, and yet if anything it just makes her more frantic. As much as each swipe of his cock against her swollen clit sends tingles of pleasure up her spine, she’s gagging for him and running out of patience.
“You are a spoiled thing,” he admonishes good naturedly like he hasn’t made a habit of indulging her every whim and desire in the past decade up to and including getting a divorce.
“We might have our problems, sweetheart, but being able to fuck you right was never one of them, was it?” John teases as he lines himself up with her. She shakes her head in agreement. If she’s being truthful, that’s partially what had stayed her hand for as long as she had. The frustration with his work being so all consuming it was like his mistress had been a slow boil for quite some time. For years John would mollify her by fucking her into submission- and she has a sinking suspicion that their youngest was an attempt to get her to let up on the subject.
His generosity in the bedroom stems from equal parts wanting to please, and the pragmatic aspect that he is not a small man, and it’s usually easier for everyone involved if he gets her off before attempting penetration.
It’s like they haven’t missed a day- it takes a few thrusts to get her body to spread for him and then all the blood on John’s body dives south for the wet, warm cunt wrapping around his cock.
“This pretty cunt’s got me like a vice, sweetheart,” he praises, leaning down to kiss her.
“I missed you so much,” she whines into the kiss. “It feels so good.”
“I’m not gonna last,” he grunts against her neck, each clap of his hips against hers earning a whine. “You divine creature- got me wrapped around your finger, don’t you?”
An entire relationship’s worth of orgasms makes it so she doesn’t begrudge him that he’s going to be a quick shot tonight. His earlier statement is correct- if there is one thing the man knows how to do, it’s fuck her within an inch of her life. He’s proven that time and time again.
If anything, given their time apart, it appeases some of her anxiety- he must not be getting any from anyone else if he’s already this close to finishing.
“Look at me,” he instructs and she complies immediately. One of his hands strokes her face while his other arm braces his weight above her. “Tell me you love me.”
Her answer is immediate. “I do! John, I love you. I love you so much!”
His hips come to a halt against hers as he grunts against her neck in pleasure. “My perfect girl,” he praises, hands stroking at her sides as he comes down from his high.
She’s so caught up in the lust of the situation that it takes a second for reality to come knocking on her door. “Shit! Pull out!” she tells him, trying to scramble out from underneath him.
“What?” In all their years, ‘pull out’ has never been one of the instructions. He complies even as his brows knit in confusion.
“I haven’t been keeping up with my birth control!” Despite John’s easy assurance that he can just stroll in and assert that they are going to work through things (and she does want to)- adding a new baby on top of their mess will not help get shit sorted out.
Once again, his unflappable attitude has its way of driving her absolutely insane. “Bit late for that, innit? You’ve already had 3 of mine, what’s one more at this point?”
“One more at this point is exactly the point!” she tries to reason.
“We did say a girl would be nice,” he reminds her.
“That was before we got a divorce!” she hisses, trying to be mindful of her volume lest she wake their children.
“That’s nothing but paperwork, pet. We can have it sorted by the time you’re due.” John can tell he’s truly gone and wound her up more than he meant with that, immediately shifting gears to try and settle her back down.
“Okay, too much. I’m sorry. Come here,” he guides her to lay down, which she does albeit with a fair amount of suspicion.
John wisely chooses not to agitate her further or do anything that could be considered pushing in his luck (like, say, pointing out that despite her protests about another baby, she’s not said a peep about the cum dripping from her).
Instead he draws her up into his arms, sticking his nose firmly in her hair.
For a long moment it’s quiet, nothing but the sound of their breathing in the late night.
It catches her off guard when the tears come unbidden. One moment she’s happily lazing in her (ex-turned-hopeful-once-more?) husband’s arms, and the next she’s sobbing uncontrollably.
They’ve been through enough that it shouldn’t embarrass her. For fuck’s sake, she’d vomited all over him during the birth of their second son. But she feels like an exposed livewire sobbing over nothing and without warning.
“What’s wrong?” John mumbles as he wakes half-way, pulling her closer to him and stroking her back to console her.
“I mucked everything up,” she chokes out, burrowing her face against his neck. “I didn’t even want this, I just didn’t know what else to do!”
He shushes her gently, petting at her in an attempt to calm her down. “I meant what I said, pet. I know things have to change, but at the end of the day it’s just papers. We’ll get everything fixed back in its proper place.”
She doesn’t remove herself from the spot on his neck she’s nestling against, but quiets down and eventually they both fall asleep once again.
When she wakes again, she feels far more level headed- although neediness eats away at her. It’s like her body is craving to make up for lost time for the months they’ve been apart.
She can’t help herself as one hand trails down the thick hair dusting his torso, pressing kisses against his neck. Even in his sleep John responds to her touch- pulls at her to be closer to him, huffing as his dick twitches in interest.
It only takes a quick lick of her palm and a few strokes to have him stiffening in her hand.
The dried spend on the inside of her thighs is enough of a reminder, even if she’s feeling affectionate this morning, that she’s going to have to figure something out for her birth control.
For the morning at least the answer to that is easy- still working her hand in slow motion up and down on his shaft she kisses a trail down his neck and working her way south.
The movement is enough to have John stirring with a sinful groan in the back of his throat.
“Well good morning, gorgeous,” he greets, voice clouding in sleep in a way that makes her just want to sit on his face.
Humming out an acknowledgement, she continues to work her way down his abdomen. She does give in to the impulse to nip at the base of his happy trail, delighting in how he sucks back away from her teeth only to push at her head immediately after.
“Bad girl,” he admonishes with no true venom in his voice “Keep those teeth to yourself, hm?” he advises with an affectionate swat to her ass.
Rather than crawling down him, she’s got herself angled perpendicular to him. All the better for him to pet her with one hand while the other encourages her to take him in her mouth.
The moan he makes as she bobs her head is sinful, and she presses her thighs together and shifts her hips to get whatever little bit of friction she can- an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by John.
“That pretty pussy of yours needs some attention, doesn’t it sweetheart?” he asks, a warm hand running down her spine and trailing across her ass until he starts to tease her.
She works with a sense of urgency, even with John taking his time playing with her. They should have another hour or so to themselves before the boys wake up, but they’re also no strangers to a mad scramble under the covers with an unplanned interruption.
“Fuck,” he bites out a curse, hips flexing underneath her. That’s all the encouragement she needs to redouble her efforts, the hand not supporting her weight wrapping around him and stroking to help get him there faster. Despite their years together she’d never quite been able to take all of him down her throat.
“Look at me,” and the eye contact is all it takes for her to feel him stiffening beneath her. “Gonna swallow for me, sweetheart? Yeah, that’s my good girl- keep those eyes on- fuck,” he grunts, his climax hitting.
She’s well versed in swallowing his seed as he cums- keeps up the suction even as his orgasm tapers off just to see how long it takes him to grab her by the hair and pry her off of him.
“Sit on my face. And don’t even think about fucking hovering,” John orders and she complies immediately. His teasing while she’d blown him leaves her a horribly needy mess- None of the pent up lust releasing yet, although anticipation has her scrambling back up the bed and straddling his face.
He pulls at her hips, locking a forearm around her like he wants to make sure she isn’t going to change her mind and start teasing him back.
And fuck does that man know exactly where to lick and suck to make her eyes roll. One of her hands gripping the headboard for dear life, the other one buries itself in John’s hair. He takes direction like a champ, following the not-so-subtle cues from her as she pulls him where she wants him.
“Please, please, please,” she babbles breathlessly as he gets her teetering over the edge, only to release his hair in favor of clamping her hand over her mouth as her orgasm washes over her.
Her legs are weak as he guides her back down before getting her on her back and kissing her until she’s breathless. As engrossing as their make out session is, neither one particularly cares that they can taste themself on the other.
Eventually the pair wear themselves out, calming down from their earlier romp and managing to get into the shower and cleaning up.
It’s only after they’ve escaped the pull of their marital bed, as the water washes the lust out of her system that the reality of the situation comes knocking again, insistent.
“I want this to work, John.” She wants to melt at the way his expression softens at her.
“I do too, sweetheart- you have no idea how much.” A sigh escapes her, already fearing that they’re back on their loop that’s been the routine for the past decade. “What’s that for, hm?” he inquires.
“I want this to work, John,” she repeats “but things have to change. I mean it.”
“ I know you do,” he assures her, reaching down to kiss her temple. “I believe you.”
She’s uncertain if her refusal to be mollified is her winding herself into a snit again, or because she’s justified in the knowledge that this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation.
Especially when his palm drops to hover over her belly.
“You can’t try to get me pregnant if you’re not retiring from the field, John,” she asserts. “I can handle the boys, I cannot handle a fourth baby by myself.”
And much like a kind stranger trying to lure a skittish stray dog into their car, John hums in agreement.
Retirement from the military as a whole, she knows, is far too much of an ask. John has spent his entire adult life serving and it will probably take a career ending injury to get him to agree to retire outright. However she’ll happily settle for him promoting high enough that he’s not one of the first people contacted when they need boots on the ground. She just wants her husband home. She’s paid her dues being the sweet housewife raising the kids alone while he plays hero on the other side of the world. He’s beyond capable of climbing the ranks to one that involves less clandestine missions and more paperwork, and it’s absolutely infuriating that he hasn’t.
(She knows it’s not entirely a blind devotion to country and crown and preventing acts of terrorism, and the fact that he enjoys fucking off to who-knows-where at the drop of a hat- never knowing where he’ll be 24 hours from now at any given time, and he doesn’t want to give that up yet. She tries not to think about it too hard though, otherwise she’ll melt down like chernobyl.)
The hot water runs out before John’s refractory period, which is a good thing for her sake because she’s a scatter brained mess right now. The man’s not 20 and she doesn’t begrudge him the time it takes to recuperate, but she’s swinging wildly between being sappy and sentimental and wanting back what she had, and knowing full well she needs to get a grip before she does something stupid like letting John talk her into trying for a girl.
By the time they dry off and dress there are three hungry boys who are in for quite the surprise to see their dad come morning. No doubt there had been a reasonable expectation that John would leave in the middle of the night after they went to bed.
John keeps the boys distracted and out of her hair as she gets their breakfast sorted.
Before the divorce, the pair of them would go about their separate routines; making their morning caffeinated beverages of choice, idly commenting on the latest news headline, alternating getting things sorted for their children.
Now John hovers. Like he’s not entirely certain if he wants her out of his sight. He wrangles the boys to their seats as she gets their food, but it’s like one eye is kept trained on her.
Before the divorce, her children would make their protests- high pitch peals of ew! (The youngest, she suspects, merely imitating his older brothers who get a kick out of their parents' displeased stares) if they witnessed any displays of overt affection. While of course anything where they could see was kept G rated, once the boys thought something was funny they committed to the bit entirely.
Now, while she’s distracted by John giving a chaste kiss to her temple and running his hands up and down the sides of her arm, she realizes that the boys are as silent as the grave. Three sets of owlish eyes watch them intently before comically making a big show of going back to their breakfast as they realize they’re caught.
“John,” she starts quietly, eyes watching the boys before shifting her attention back to her husba- ex-husband. “We really need to talk about this. Actually talk.” Not just fuck each other silly - she knows they’ll just slip back into old habits. They need ground rules.
She knows how her husband works. If she can wrangle him into actually agreeing with a discussion, that is workable. John’s got his quirks and idiosyncrasies that she’s learned over the years. He won’t outright lie to her, he won’t go back on his word if he commits to something. But he will push and widdle and chip away at her to keep her compliant and happy enough to get off his dick (usually by putting her on his dick. Or mouth. Or hands. Or-
Anyway.)
“We will, sweetheart. Let’s just get through breakfast, hm?”
It is so familiar and yet still so different. The boys are running a mile a minute, eagerly soaking up the additional time with their father (the guilt gnaws at her- knows this could just be a normal morning. Had she either never divorced him, or kept him firmly away. This hemming and hawing that feels inevitable can not be good for the boys).
Screentime is a bit of a hot topic, but they need the boys content and quiet long enough for them to speak without interruptions.
The eldest is a bit too old for the target demographic for Bluey, but his handheld console is enough to keep him entertained.
She can’t help but feel like her oldest boy and John are conspiring- John firmly telling him “Your mother and I need to have a little talk with no interuptions. You keep an eye on your brothers, got it?” only for the oldest to salute him with a “Yes, sir!” that has John grinning as he herds her towards his office with a hand low on her back.
The click of the door sliding shut is as loud as a gunshot.
“I know I pushed too far,” John begins. The pair of them stand in front of each other. “You kept asking for the same thing over and over again. I never thought you would actually leave, but I can’t say I was surprised when you asked for a divorce. You were trying, and I wasn’t listening. I meant what I said last night. I’m not mad.”
It…. stings. Knowing the truth the whole time- John thinking he can just wait her out. That he can lean on her despite her protests and eventually she’ll give up. But it’s a dull pain, considering it’s something she’s lived with for years. She’s well familiar with it.
“So why? Why let it get that far. I know what you do is important. I know it’s selfish to ask you to give that up, but we’ve got three kids, John. You want a fourth! It is so hard to be the one who stays with them when you leave. They don’t grasp the situation. They just know that their dad’s gone and they miss you. And I cannot breathe when you are deployed and sent off to fuck-knows-where dealing with some of the most violent, dangerous groups on the planet. What if you don’t come home? How am I supposed to raise them without you?”
Sharp words coming from the same woman who kicked John out. But it’s the same story he’s been hearing for the better part of decade ever since their first was born. He can likely recite her speech from the heart at this point.
Like always, John is steadfast in the storm no matter how far into orbit she flies. He’s well acquainted with her whims, and knows just how easy it is to rile her up and yet also knows exactly how to bring her back down.
At the moment her expression is similar to that of a wet hen’s.
“I didn’t think you’d leave.” It’s the truth and she knows it and it pisses her off. “I knew you weren’t happy with it, but overall we were happy with each other. I wasn’t cheating on you. I’m not a mean drunk. I might be absent at times but I’m not cruel. I keep you happy in bed. You want for nothing. The boys know I adore them. Every marriage has its problems. I thought we both understood that the nature of my job is ours.” He sighs, rubbing a hand down his face.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” she reiterates, and she’s not sure if her voice warbles from how angry she is at the confirmation that he thought he could wait her out until he felt like retiring (or, more likely- she buries him), or at herself because she picked him and how mad can she be when he’s been honest about his work from the start.
There’s no clear cut villain. John is right. His job has weighed down on them since the beginning. In the beginning she thought she could handle it. But three children later and she’s begun to realize- far too late- that it’s so much. Subjecting them to something they never asked for because they were born into this schedule where John is beholden to Kate fucking Laswell more than his own family (peace and love to her- she’s great but she is the walking representation of everything they are struggling with in their marriage).
Her mind is a jumbling mess, like twine that’s interlocking and needing to unravel. There’s no clear cut path forward. She will go absolutely insane if things continue on the way they have been, but the time apart has shown her that she doesn’t really want to separate from John. No other man can even come close to him.
“So now what do we do?” she asks.
John steps closer to her, reaching to run his knuckles across her cheek in affection. “I want to come home, sweetheart.”
“It’s not that easy.”
She expects some sort of protest. Some sort of Yes it can be, and she’s not sure if she’s got the mental fortitude to continue holding her ground. But she knows that nothing will change if she lets up now. This is the moment where she either needs to throw in the towel, or maybe- just maybe there’s a chance.
They’ve made it this far. But she is so tired. She can’t go back but she’s got no idea what’s ahead or how long it will take to get there.
“I know. All I’m asking for is a chance.”
“It is your last one John, I swea-” She’s always hated that stupid fucking movie trope where the man shuts the woman up by kissing her. Yet here she is, her (fragile) attempt at a stern warning cut off as John snatches her up and pulls her to him.
After last night, one would think they’d gotten enough of each other to not be groping at each other like animals in heat.
Mother fucker he’s doing it again. He doesn’t fight as she pulls away, though those pretty blue eyes are blown showing where he would have been heading had she not stopped him.
“I mean it, John. You said you want this to work, but I need to see changes. You need to be home and not fucking off half away across the world at the drop of a hat. I need to be able to make plans and know that you will be here.”
“Anything, sweetheart. I just want my family back. I swear, I’m listening this time. I’ll figure it out.”
The lust has calmed from his eyes as he approaches again, making her look up at him. “You remember our little conversation from last night?”
He looks as serious as a heart attack, and there was a lot said last night.
She’s taking too long to answer, as he continues unprompted. “I know you’re not going to sign the papers overnight, and I’m fine with that. But your ring stays on, and there are no more dates with other men. You are mine. You are not single, and I expect you to act like it, hm?”
The chaste kiss to her temple is a sharp juxtaposition to the severity of his tone. He certainly doesn’t need to tell her twice.
“I promise,” she assures him, seeing how the intensity drains out of him as he’s mollified by her words. “I know I don’t have a right to ask, but did you- was there-” the words choke as she stumbles over them. She can’t be mad. She’s got no right to- they are divorced, and he (was) single and free to do as he pleases. But the idea of John drowning his sorrows in another woman’s body makes her want to claw someone’s eyes out.
And she really should have asked before he fucked her without a condom, but hindsight is 20/20.
Despite her inability to get the words together in the right order, John seems to know her question. He pulls her close to him, tucking her under his chin.
“No, sweetheart. There was never anyone else.”
The knot in her gut unwinds a little bit. “I love you, John. I’m sorry it came to this.”
“We’ll fix it, sweetheart.”
For a moment they stand there in the quiet, but there was no telling what sort of trouble their little trio might get into if left alone for too long. When John unlocks and opens the door, they both raise an eyebrow at the sight of their youngest dashing off around the corner.
Like the three little troublemakers had tried to listen through the door (which they would not be able to do- because she has tried once or twice), and the youngest was too slow to keep up with his brothers who are perched on the couch for all the world like they never left it.
The older two try to play their hand at staying cool, although the youngest boy is giggling- enjoying his “game” of teaming up with his brothers to try and pull a fast one on their parents.
“Do you have to leave?” The question from their oldest is deliberate, and succeeds in distracting them from the fact that their kids were definitely trying to eavesdrop on a conversation not meant for young ears.
“Not today,” John answers, ignoring the sharp look she shoots his way.
It’s a delicate balancing act as they stumble through picking up the broken pieces of their marriage. John can’t prove that he’s controlling his work hours unless she lets him in the house, but does give him shit about not moving in too soon. She doesn’t want him getting comfortable or complacent and back sliding on his promise.
Of course, John gets his lick back. There had been a stern conversation about condoms until her birth control is in hand.
Only to find out at her appointment that they can’t give it to her because she’s pregnant.
Mother fucker. Damn that “one shot, one kill” motherfucker. Their one slip up was the only discrepancy since they have gotten back together- that has to be when she conceived. Why did she fall in love with a sniper?
John is ecstatic with the news, as are the boys. She feels like a wet, disgruntled hen.
The new baby throws a wrench in her plans, but she can’t quite find it in her to be too disappointed once the shock wears off. John had been set on another baby, chattering on and on about how he hopes it’s a girl. They would have had another baby at some point, it’s just a bit sooner than she was anticipating.
No doubt for the boys, the new baby is an assurance that their parents aren’t staying separated. In their simplistic view, that’s as good as ink drying on paper that they’re staying together.
At her scan when it’s revealed she’s carrying boy #4, John kisses her temple and tells her how happy he is.
The youngest daughter that he’s got his sights set on is shelved for the duration of her pregnancy, not another peep of it mentioned.
A girl would have been nice, but she’s well experienced with wrangling John Price’s sons, and no doubt this one will fall into the group just fine.
John’s got quite the track record of giving her pretty babies, which everyone praises and compliments when the little man finally makes his arrival.
When he is home (which has been substantially more, she has to admit), he’s an active and involved father who’s besotted by his children and happily splits night duty with his exhausted wife. Keeps the older boys in line and behaving.
She doesn’t sign anything until John has a signed transfer request. While he’ll still be working in counter terrorism, and still be very close with the 141, his job no longer mandates he ups and leaves at the drop of a hat.
They celebrate quietly. Friends and family have made their opinions known about the back and forth tentative future of their marriage (mostly a well intended shit or get off the pot), and they elect to drop the boys with John’s parents to have a weekend for themselves.
There are no lusty slip ups and everything is followed to the letter but she wants to kill John when he grins at her positive pregnancy test.
Everything can fail, it seems. John merely commenting “Maybe this one will be a girl”, showing his hand that he hasn’t quite given up his dreams of a youngest girl to round out their gaggle of boys.
She doesn’t want to know the gender this time around, which John grouses about but ultimately accepts.
When Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley promotes to a new rank, John is the one the man calls to ask him to participate in his ceremony.
She’s still in her second trimester, not quite teetering into her third just yet. John wants to bring the kids. If the third trimester exhaustion had stuck yet, she likely could have begged to be left out and he likely would have acquiesced. And the boys usually know better than to try anything when on base with John.
The day comes and she feels like a walking stereotype of an officer’s wife- gaggle of kids clinging to her skirt, the newest baby still clinging to her, and an unmistakable pregnancy bump.
“Cookin’ another boy in there, Mrs. Price?” Soap asks good naturedly while they’re waiting.
“Not quite sure,” she answers, eyes on her three more mobile kids making sure they’re settling in and behaving. “John’s been itching for a girl since before this one came,” she gestures to their youngest in her arms.
“Well, hopefully it’a girl then for yer sake- man’s gonna give ya a football team at this rate!” the Scot laughs, chortling at his own joke. There are times when she sometimes wonders how someone as charming as Johnny Mactavish got wrangled into clandestine counter terrorism missions, but then she remembers that as much as he can charm a bird from a tree, it’s comments like that that skirt just too comfortable that yes, he’s probably got a few screws loose. (She sometimes wonders about Kyle too, who is giving Johnny a “fucking really??” look, but can’t quite pin anything. The man is perfectly mild mannered and respectable, and she knows that their work can warp someone given enough time.)
“Hopefully so,” she answers amicably. While her pregnancy has been blessedly uneventful, she’s already over it and will be perfectly happy with this being her last.
Something tells her that John is going to get his wish, one way or another though.
Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡
#captain john price#John Price x reader#john price x you#captain price smut#dub con#dark!fic#<- that is just my typical 'catch all' blocklist tag for anyone who doesn't wanna read anything dark/dubious/etc.#I am being conservative with using the tag pinky promise#my writing
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Horror characters taking care of their sick s/o
I'm in my sick Victorian boy era. I'm being dramatic because I have a mild case of the flu. I need to write something to keep myself sane so why not write for some characters I haven't written about for awhile.
Includes: Amanda Young, Adam Faulkner, Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter, and Pyramid head
Warnings: Reader is sick, some of these characters aren't super smart, mentions of vomit and medication, vague talk of cannibalism and violence
Amanda Young
Amanda has basic medical knowledge and when she sees you getting sick she's quick to get you to stay in bed and will be a little overbearing. She's been taking care of John for awhile and seeing her partner sick makes her very worried.
She's going to spend any free time she has taking care of you. She knows you're going to be fine but that's not going to stop her from becoming your personal nurse.
She wants to avoid using medication unless a doctor tells her to use them. She thinks because medication isn't working for John that must mean it won't really work for you.
She knows to keep some distance but she's still going to be around you and touch you. She might intentionally spend more time around you then get closer to Hoffman to try and get him sick.
She might talk to Lawrence about what she should be doing and your symptoms. If you know that she's a jigsaw apprentice she'll introduce you to him as her coworker. But if you don't she'll either bribe him into seeing you or just take his advice.
She is reminded of what happened at the gas house and if you're sick enough that you start to throw she'll need to leave the room and probably spend some time to compose herself. I strongly believe that what jigsaw did to her really messed her up but she denies it.
Adam Faulkner
Oh my god if he finds out you're sick I hope you're ready for him to try and help but honestly just make a fool of himself.
You're hopefully not living in his apartment anymore and depending on your temperature and the weather he's going to keep your bedroom window open because "fresh air helps".
He thinks that he doesn't have to keep space from you because you're dating and he probably ends up getting sick himself. But no matter how much you tell him to stay away so he doesn't get sick he won't listen.
While he's out working (probably for jigsaw) he'll leave out medication for you to take, food you can heat up or just eat cold, and probably gives you anything you need to stay entertained.
If you call him for anything he's dropping whatever he's doing to go help you. You have to literally tell him several times that he doesn't have to rush home and you can stay on your own while he works.
He probably doesn't have any insurance just by judging his apartment so unless you absolutely need to see a doctor he's going to be the one taking care of you.
Will Graham
His medical knowledge is better than some people in these head canons but it's still not the best. I feel like if it's anything than a mild case of the cold or the flu he's taking you to a doctor.
Probably looks up if human illnesses can transfer to dogs. Either way he's keeping his dogs away from you until you feel better.
Will not let you out of bed unless you're going to the bathroom. He deals with blood and guts for a living so dealing with someone who's sick is probably a vacation for him.
Will is going to try to keep Hannibal away from you while you're sick for so many reasons. But Hannibal is probably going to end up seeing you anyway because Will is going to cave.
If the weather and your health allows he's going to take you outside for fresh air like you're a consumption patient from 1912. He will let his dogs around you if you're outside.
Will guilt Jack into letting him stay home for a few days to take care of you. He is going to bring up everything Jack has ever done to him. "Hey Jack I need to stay home to take care of my partner. I know you'll let me take it off since you made me work while I had ensyphilitis."
Hannibal Lecter
He's a literal doctor but also a fucking weirdo so be careful. He'll still take good care of you but will also take the time to get into philosophical discussions with you while you're half asleep.
He refuses to give you anything store bought to eat. Will literally make crackers and break from scratch for you to eat. He'll lay off on the human meat until you're better.
Will not allow you to use one of his bowls as a "throw up bowl" You're using the bathroom to do so, he doesn't care if you accidentally vomit on his floors because he can clean the floor, but his bowls are too valuable.
He won't let you spend all day looking at screens. Hannibal will provide you with any kind of entertainment you want to get you off screens for awhile. He will get you whatever books you want or any other low energy activity.
Will insist on keeping your space clean. Will wash your sheets often and insists on giving you a bath, the temperature depending on if you have a fever or not.
He will keep a sort of distance from you but will also be near you. He will take precautions of course but he can't stop himself from spending time in your room, talking with you.
Pyramid head
He has little knowledge of human illnesses, because he's a demi god of sorts he never really gets sick. So when he sees you get cold sweats or start having a bad cough he's confused about why it's happening. '
You'll have to educate him on your condition and tell him what he needs to do to help you. I don't think there's any medication you can take in silent hill but he can probably find you something to help.
He also probably can't get sick so he doesn't have to worry about getting too close to you. If you try to pull away from him to hide your cough or sneeze he'll just pull you back. Even if he did get a cold from you he'd get over it pretty quickly.
He'll honestly want to be pretty touchy all the time even when you're not sick because he's never had human contact before. You'll probably have to explain to him that cuddling isn't the best thing when you have a fever.
He's going to try and get you as comfortable as possible while he's busy doing Pyramid Head stuff. It all depends on your condition and you'll have to explain to him what you need.
He also doesn't really understand germs so you'll have to explain them to him and why you need to keep yourself and your area clean and why you can't just throw up anywhere. After that he'll get you something to use for that then just throw it somewhere.
#amanda young x reader#adam faulkner stanheight x reader#adam faulkner x reader#adam faulkner stanheight x yn#will grahm x reader#will grahm x you#hannibal lecter#hannibal x reader#hannibal nbc#pyramid head x reader#slasher x y/n#slasher x reader#slasher fanfiction
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Have you seen Peacock yet? In love with the idea of Yandere!John and Yandere!Emma keeping you as their pet. They both love you so much. Emma’s a softer yan but she still doesn’t want to let you go. 🥰🥰🥰
YES. YES. YES YE SYE SYES Y-
warnings: dark, implied/described noncon, kidnapping/captivity, yandere, housewife kink
You shivered slightly as Emma ran her hands over your hair, humming to herself. "Is the water too cold, sweetie?" she asked.
You didn't answer. It was a little tepid, but that wasn't why you shivered. She sighed a little as she ran her hand down your back, fingers ghosting over a bruise by your shoulder.
"He can be a little... rough, can't he?" she noticed, lowering her voice, and you still didn't respond, looking away from her even more as if the tile wall by the bathtub was suddenly fascinating to you. "Lean back, sweetie, so I can wash your hair."
You did as you were told, laying back to submerge the back of your head in the water; you kept your eyes open at first, but when she looked right at you with those dark brown eyes, you quickly shut your own.
Her hand scooped water over your hairline, carefully avoiding getting any in your eyes. You sighed as you felt her be so delicate with you... you only wish those hands had been so kind before. John didn't say anything when he fucked you; he just held you down, and left you in the bed alone when he was done. Emma came in after, seeming surprised and uncomfortable at the sight of you like that, before softly suggesting 'lets get you cleaned up, dear.'
She sat you back up carefully; at first, you were so unwillingly lost in your memories that you didn't notice her trying to prompt you to lift yourself again.
There was silence, spare the gentle sloshing of water around the tub, and Emma's quiet humming.
"Will you ever let me go?" you blurted out suddenly.
She stopped humming. She sighed a little. "He thinks you're safer here."
"But what do you think?"
She bit her lip, looking away demurely. "Well... I don't think that makes any difference, does it?"
You felt anxiousness stir in your gut as you thought of what you could say then, but feared it would get you in trouble. You couldn't really afford to keep any cards in your hand now, could you? "You could... you could tell him to let me go," you suggested hesitantly.
"Oh-- no, that's not an option," she insisted quickly. "It would be easier to help you adjust to living here now."
Your shoulders sank; realizing this route of conversation was useless, you mostly stopped listening and tried to just think of anything else.
"He's just trying to court you," she explained, "but he doesn't know how."
Not getting a response, she still went on, but moreso talking to herself.
"Maybe he just needs a little help..."
~
Don't be so nervous. She might like you if you give her a chance! -Emma
John looked at the note with a frown. He wasn't sure what to think of it. He really would've preferred that Emma stayed out of his romantic life, but he also couldn't deny that she probably had some advice he could use... a woman's perspective, that is. John really didn't know anything about women. Hence, keeping you here.
Stepping into the room, he winced a little when he saw you jump, obviously trying to hide how afraid you were of him. He couldn't blame you. But he couldn't help it, either.
For a long moment, you just looked at him; he suddenly realized it was bizarre that he hadn't said anything.
"You look pretty."
He found himself absent-mindedly rubbing his palms on his slacks. "Um... she picked out the dress for me..." you informed him.
"It's pretty. You look pretty," he said again.
You jolted slightly, again, when he stepped in, but he ignored it and walked to the record player. He turned it down-- way down-- and started a slow song quietly. He wasn't sure what he expected; he certainly imagined what might happen, that he might be able to dance with you, but he didn't expect it. You wouldn't want to--
"Do you want to dance?" you offered suddenly, making him whip his head around in surprise. You'd stepped closer to him but seemed to shy away when he looked at you-- he tried to soften his face.
"...do you?" he returned incredulously.
"I... I might," you shrugged, acting a little shy suddenly-- he thought it was rather adorable.
"Why?" he wondered bluntly.
"It sounds fun," you answered with a little smile, but then you glanced away and gave a second answer-- the more honest one, it seemed. "I... I want things to be different, with us."
He nodded. He did, too. He didn't like hurting you... he just didn't think he had any other choice.
"So, I thought... maybe we could dance!" you finished.
"Y-yes, um, sure," he agreed. "I haven't... danced in a long time..."
"That's alright," you assured sweetly, "I'll teach you."
He didn't completely trust your kindness, even if it made his cheeks burn a bit. You'd been so scared of him before, so empty behind the eyes when he forced you onto the bed--
"Can you waltz?" you asked.
"U-um--"
"We can do something easier," you decided quickly instead, motioning for him to come a little closer. Nervously, but obediently, he did.
He carefully took your waist, sighing harder through his nose than he meant to-- he didn't want you to know how nervous he was.
But he probably gave it away when you reached up and held his shoulders, and he looked at you with wide eyes.
Then, you started to sway together-- slowly, in time with the music. He couldn't look away from you, even when he realized that you were looking away out of awkward discomfort. You just looked so beautiful like this, and holding you in his arms just felt so right. He held his breath when you leaned in and laid your head on his chest, as if one wrong move would scare you off.
He thought about asking you why you were doing this. He thought about telling you that he knew all along you were made for him-- that you would be happy here, if you let yourself accept it. He thought about just grabbing you and pulling you closer, desperate to feel your body against his own. But he was too scared: he didn't do anything, not until you told him to.
You looked up at him suddenly, with wide and pleading eyes. "You can kiss me, John," you whispered.
What could he possibly say to that? Thankfully, he got the sense that he didn't really need to say anything... he could just kiss you, apparently, so he did. He wasn't really sure if he was doing it right-- but it felt right, pressing his lips to yours softly. You were so sweet and delicate... he melted a little, right then, knowing more than ever that he made the right choice bringing you here. His heart was pounding and his mind was swarming with the overwhelming obsession with you that he could hardly believe he'd once tried to fight.
You started to pull away, but his desperation took over-- he grabbed your face and kissed you harder, following you when you stepped back until you stumbled into the dresser and he had to catch you. "John, wait--" you mumbled.
"Don't wanna wait," he groaned in reply. "I waited so long for you already--"
Still, you pushed him back at the shoulders, and he quickly wiped his mouth as he broke away from you. "I'm sorry," you said right away, "it's not-- it's not that I don't want you to... I just wanted to talk to you first."
"Oh... okay," he mumbled, feeling more confused than ever. What was there to talk about?
"I... I think you're very sweet," you told him, "and I always thought that-- it's why I came to the bank so much, you know. To see you."
He smiled a little. He'd always suspected that, but never let himself truly believe it. A girl like you would never go for a guy like him... or he wouldn't have had to do this.
"But it's just... it's not practical, is it?" you said. "The way you went about it--"
"I-I just need you too much," he tried to defend.
"No, I understand," you promised with a sigh, "and I'm not angry. But... I think maybe... it might be better if you let me--"
"No."
You whined a little. "You didn't even hear what I wanted--"
"I don't need to. You want to leave," he accused. "And I won't let you."
"John, you can't do this. You can't keep me here forever!" you yelped.
"You say you want things to be different with us, then you say that," he sneered. "You want to make me angry, don't you?"
"No, John," you denied quickly, but he was already stepping closer, backing you into a corner. "John, please--"
"You want me to be like this!" he continued regardless. "You're trying to make me angry!"
You shook your head, eyes welling as he pushed you back.
"You know you can't leave. You know I can't let you leave," he growled, grabbing you hard as you whined and tried weakly to fight him. His chest swelled with an addictive sort of rage... no, he didn't want to hurt you, but something made him feel sickly proud when he did, because he could. "You belong to me now. Nothing's ever gonna change that."
"Please," you sobbed weakly, hiding your face in your hands-- but he pulled them away and pinned them back, pressing himself to you until you looked up at him fearfully.
"I'm never letting you leave this house," he assured, "you'll be lucky if I let you leave that bed again."
You had barely even opened your mouth to protest when he wrapped his hand around your neck, choking your cries into silence.
"Not another word, Mrs. Skillpa," he whispered sharply. "This is my house-- and I own everything in it. I'm in charge here, understand?"
#john skillpa x reader#emma skillpa x reader#john skillpa dark fic#emma skillpa dark fic#cillian murphy x reader
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Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Two
Paul and Ringo cabaret duo au NOW!
Their collective bitter humor about the fan mag. I think George probably appreciates Paul getting into this sort of shit with him. Even if it is only on a surface-level. A reminder that the Beatles fame journey (something that's been hellish at times for George, enough to give him PTSD and other issues for the rest of his life) has not left Paul unscathed. That Paul actually does have feelings, however buried they may be.
Could even be that the appreciation comes out in the form of "I think your beard suits you. Man." Does the tacked-on 'man' mean a sort of "no homo" type qualifier? Or is it just an added endearment. I know we don't think of George as particularly inhibited, but it was the sixties. And of course Paul loves the compliment and has no idea what to do with it.
Can you all please thank Mal as he hands you your tea next time? Not that hard, guys.
Ringo's voice is so sexy. And I love how supportive Paul and George are of this very stupid song. If either of them had written it, they'd tear it to shreds, but it's Ringo, so we laugh along and enthuse about the sentiments behind the lyrics.
The communal bitching about EMI's treatment of them. As they should.
Oh goodness, it's the "Paul has an embarrassing crush" moment from that iconic post of @jeremy-hillary-boob He totally does and you should say it. "I never used to know what it meant". It's giving "girl pretends not to know how to hold her golf club so the hot guy will touch her".
I have a theory that some of their covers ~matter~ and "What do you want to make those eyes at me for?" Is the first one for me.
Okay this look right here that John is giving Paul? Not to, like, out myself as never having experienced pure love except from my own child or anything, but the only other place I've ever seen that look is on my one-year-old's face when I come get him from his nap. So ... "A lovely little baby, John was"
"If this boy dies, you're gonna cop it." Peak older brother behavior. He's joking, but he's also deadly serious.
In love with John trying to sing out of his range. He's trying so hard, you guys.
"Everybody had a hard year. 'well, I'm not sure, actually. Put [good year]." Same, John. Isn't it always that way? Hard. And good. He's such a genius lyricist. He just captures the human condition with such specificity.
Lol at Paul correcting John on the key of his own song (yeah, yeah, gimme some truth is secretly a colab but it's still a John song)
When they put a piano in front of Paul and John's instantly like "uh-oh, red-alert my beautiful boyfriend might not get captured perfectly from every angle" vs a year and a half later when he's bitching about Paul having too much screen-time in Let it Be. Well, you were part of the problem, babe.
I love George's way of teaching his songs. Whereas Paul was shouting key changes and counts between phrases, and John doesn't even bother to give any of that information, George is just softly singing "E, to F sharp minor. E to A." Beautiful. John and Paul, take notes.
Wonder if I'll get through a day without calling Paul a whore. Probably not.
John being instantly self-effacing after suggesting that genius little let's enhancement. "My mind can blow those clouds away" is actually much more original and thought-provoking, but John just makes fun of himself. Like. Just own it. You're John fucking Lennon!
The George/Paul convo (George talking, Paul hardly flinching) is so painful actually. Because from the outside, Paul's avoidance looks so condescending and unfeeling, but avoidance feels much more like 'Shit fuck shit dodge the fight, go around, don't react, don't engage, don't start something' and i really feel for both of them.
Let John do Help for gosh sakes!
"Not bad though. Good try, that. Johnny."
The part where Paul is looking just so exhausted, and he's actually letting it show, and then he sees the camera on him and hurries and tries to do a cheeky little Beatles head-shake and smile. But then he's really just too tired (and high) and he looks away and rubs his eyes. It was like watching an old circus bear. Those poor things.
And of course John's head snapping up like a little gopher when Paul says his name
#get back#the beatles#paul mccartney#ringo starr#george harrison#john lennon#mclennon#mal evans#Yes I will continue to just take pictures of my screen like an eighty year old woman#Yes I am sorry about the length. They're probably just going to be like that...
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I’m not sure if Trolls, TWT and TBT would be involved in this AU like you did with I’m still here AU
For this you were born AU (I seriously love this AU! For some reason I want do AU that was inspired by this AU, I hate getting ideas from others that is originally their ideas-)
Anyway, if Trolls happen, then how would John Dory and Branch feel if Poppy, the snack pack and others who are WILLING to throw a biggest loudest and craziest party ever. How would Viva feel about this? What about Clay, Spruce and Floyd?
I know they’ll NOT going to like this because they knew John Dory and Branch went through so much. The fact Poppy had no clue what happened. John Dory would hate that, he has traumas, right?
How badly it would goes when Chef found the Pop Trolls and we know what happens the rest.
Alright, first of all - go for it dude. I honestly, do not mind if you want to use it for inspo, or a starting off point or even an au of the au. Like, if that what works for you, go for it. You aren't the only one - although I'm super flattered it has inspired people like that.
Okay, so I'm not entirely sure how the Trolls movies in general would go with this entirely, yet. I have thought about it, briefly, but not much, just with the shear number of aus I have a tendency to come up with. I'm not entirely sure how much fear there is with the village. Don't get me wrong, they feared the Bergens but no one's past is the same. Branch has some Bergen-related trauma but it's very, very different than canon Branch and his memory is kind of shrouded anyways. Even Viva doesn't have the same type of trauma; there is no scary great escape, trolls weren't lost in collapsed tunnels, she wasn't separated from her family. So honestly, I'm not even sure how paranoid she would be about that. I'm not saying she wouldn't, I'm just not entirely sure either. In general, no ones trauma about the Bergens is quite the same as in canon. I'm not entirely sure how it all kind of plays out but in this, JD's is definitely the most poignant. The dude spent weeks around a Bergen that he eventually literally killed, all under the fear he would be eaten and his baby brother as well.
I think it would happen possibly earlier than in canon, the events of Trolls. Things are so different. The Village is different. Clay is innovative and Viva is there and well, things are just so different. And I'm not entirely sure who would all get taken. The events of the movie would definitely change, depending on who is taken.
If JD got taken, that would be horrifying but I'm not... I won't say that the Bergens don't know about him and what he did. Because that is entirely possible that word had gotten back on how that specific Bergen died - was killed. And people in the city he was in/near the Bergen's house know it was him. He was just never arrested because it was self-defense, and no one gives a crap about a dead troll-eating monster.
If Branch got taken, that is a whole other can of worms that would lead to a ton of panic, especially on JD's part. If any of the bros got taken, it would be kind of a shitstorm cause JD is not letting that happen. JD in general is kind of sensitive to some things anyways, so he doesn't particularly appreciate loud parties and stuff.
If they did befriend the Bergens, JD would avoid them and they would avoid him. I don't think there would be quite any... friendships there. Maybe forgiveness, at some point, but JD has too much pent up things when it comes to a Bergen that he needs to deal with. He knows, they, specifically, aren't the Bergen he killed but he's still freaked out. And well... he is a tiny troll that literally killed one of their own. That has got to be terrifying. So, no real trust or friendship there but JD is also all for not being hunted/eaten/etc. so he's not particularly bothered by others befriending Bergens.
But like I said, if they were to befriend the Bergens at all. It's even possible they wouldn't.
All in all, the original trolls movie might be a little different but the main aspect would be the same. Unless they don't befriend the Bergens, then it would be WAY different.
As for TWT... well, okay, so I've had a bit of a convo with someone about Peppy. JD and Branch know a ton about the other tribes and well, we know Peppy is desperate to keep things a secret. I'm not saying he's evil in this by any means, but he does do some dirty work, so to speak, and tries to keep JD quiet. I've kind of bounced some thoughts around about it and there have been suggestions. It's very casual with JD and Branch, them talking about the other tribes but when Peppy gets a whiff of it... he has a talk with JD.
And JD, although a strong troll and strong willed, is very tired at this point still, since it's early in him coming home. He's tired and kind of overwhelmed and he's got a bunch of chronic pain that he's trying to deal with in a troll way. It's like a recovery all over again. And with everything being so new and Branch being so young and JD being so protective, JD stays quiet about it. He still kind of talks, mostly with his family, but he doesn't go out of his way to tell others about the other tribes. He does have to have a talk with Branch about talking about his other friends/the other tribes which Branch is super confused about. Understandably.
I'm not sure when/if the other bros kind of get a whiff of the threats JD is under; he doesn't really make it apparent and since he doesn't talk a lot anyways, it might not be readily seen right away.
But TWT would happen when Branch is a teenager. I think that would make sense with this. Barb, in her rebellion or whatever, is starting her whole World Tour and Branch gets really worried about his other friends in the other tribes. Poppy learns the full truth about the existence of the other tribes, kind of in a way like, wait, this sounds like the stories Branch used to tell me when we were young.
She's not super happy that Branch kept it from her, and she doesn't get answers on why, but she goes on her trip anyways and Branch follows.
And JD chases after them in Rhonda. Floyd would probably come. Possibly Clay. I'm not entirely sure. Maybe Viva, actually.
Obviously things with Delta would be vastly different, although now that I think about it, JD and Delta's reunion might not come until later... you know, for angst purposes. Things with Hickory and Dickory would also be different, obviously.
This would take a WHOLE lot more thought on the matter because this one would change a lot.
TBT... Idk does it really matter much? None of them are in a band so they never really even heard of the family harmony. And none of them are estranged. So I guess that wouldn't happen at all. There could be a whole kidnapping thing, but that would be an ENTIRELY different plot then because well, things are super different. But at this point, TBT wouldn't even really be a thing.
Uh... I think that's all I got
#ask#for this you were born au#nothing is exactly set in stone but idk#this might be a deltadory series but I'm not sure#ya'll are really winning me over with this ship and I'm not sure how I feel about it#it wouldn't happen in the series anyways#JD has a long way to go before he does any romantic entanglements#and for the most part i see him in general as entirely okay with being fufilled with platonic bonds
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I was playing around with the idea of a Bsd NightVale au and then I realized-
That's just Bungou Stray Dogs.
Bsd doesn't need any more existential Eldritch horrors as bosses. If Cecil and Carlos rocked up to Yokohama, I don't think anything would change. Strex corp would be the villain of the week, the ADA would just be like, "Yup, just another Tuesday."
The cats stuck in the air that reside in the bathroom? Atsushi joins them every Thursday at noon and Fukuzawa is still trying to figure out how to take a photo of them without horrifically dying.
The totally-not-angels named Erika? Just regulars of the Cafe getting coffee and pastries for old woman Josie who writes down all the names of Abilities in her free time along with the Ability User's birth date but she never writes down their names because "Don't you know that is a serious breach of privacy?"
And good ol' John Peters- you know, the farmer? He lives in Yokohama on the weekends and spends the rest of his time either helping Kenji out on his farm or harvesting imaginary corn from his Peach Farm.
Janice, Cecil's niece is totally friends with Kyouka and Atsushi, occasionally giving them some of Girl scout cookies paid for by Cecil.
Everyone, the Port Mafia, the ADA, the Hunting Dogs, avoid the library for fear of the Eldritch horrors that guard books of knowledge known as Librarians. No one will even ambush or attack each other when in the vicinity of the Library building.
If Asagiri created a suddenly put BSD in a Night Vale au, I honestly doubt any fan would notice until a man with a deerskin suitcase came and not even the hyper-geniuses of Bungou Stray Dogs can remember what his face looked like or what they even spoke to him about.
#bsd headcanons#bungou stray dogs#bsd#bungou stray dogs headcanon#bungou stray dogs au#bungou stray dogs Night Vale au#bsd headcanon
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Tagged by @scarstarved to list 9 favourite characters (thank you for the tag 🥲💕💞🫠)
It’s under a read more bc it’s kinda a big post lmao, also not particularly ordered because my brain combusted just trying to think of 9 (ended up with 8 but why not it’s my favourite number) and a bit on why they’re there bc it was a fun revisit tbh.
Oh this is going to be a great getting to know me exercise 🥲
1. Rick Prime (Rick and Morty)
The current favourite little goblin. Could never explain why he was a fave but after unmortricken and the subtext threaded throughout s7 I think it's finally coming together especially when I think of other faves in this post (I have a bad habit with faves with seeing them for 0.5 seconds and deciding they're a fave and only later realising why as more about their character is revealed)
To avoid sharing more of my thoughts about his character (and clowning harder than I've already let slip and bc it's mostly interpretation and hc) Let's just say I think there's so much about Prime that is not fully understood yet and I can't wait to see how they address it (also pour one out for another victim of the curse of many of my faves dying in horrible brutal ways with unresolved emotional conflict)
2. Tartaglia/Childe/Ajax (Genshin impact)
Can’t explain this one too much either yet tbh. Another on sight fave. Precious little goblin who cares immensely for his family and seems to want to have friends/an adventurous life but is distanced by how he's wrapped up in conflict and chaos ever since he fell into the abyss as a child.
"You shall ever be the eye of the storm,"
"And the clashing of steel shall ever accompany you."
He has a constant desire for battle and proving himself (likely because it’s how he learned to survive/possibly because it keeps him occupied and it is a horrible cycle). He’s likely also addicted to the thrill of winning/surviving/overcoming due to this as well.
I constantly worry he's going to die. Pleasantly surprised that he hasn't so far. I want to see him develop. I want to see him peel away from the Fatui (bc he’s clearly unhappy and he dislikes a majority of the other harbingers but they’re a means of both keeping his family supported and seeking challenging battle). I want to see him do well and realise he's more than just “a weapon” to serve the tsaritsa’s purpose but the whole abyss thing is a LOT of unresolved trauma that he has never properly been addressed. And boy oh boy does he have a lot of death flags.
3. Amanda Young (Saw)
Ohhh Mandy. She's so, disaster. She has this depth of compassion and raging conflict inside her. Following John just because he gave her a hint of purpose while still regretting what she's become to some extent (secretly continuing harm/trying to kill Adam/wanting to help the fellow addict and being visibly distressed when they died etc) and making unwinnable traps as she thinks they didn’t deserve a second chance.
Likely because she harbors the fact she both doesn't feel worthy of a second chance herself and knows what this "second chance" has made her become, she doesn’t feel that purpose, doesn’t feel like she is grateful for living as John claims. The whole scene where she’s pointing the gun at Lynn and the “nobody fucking changes, it’s all bullshit, it’s all a fucking lie and I’m just a pawn in your stupid game. I don’t mean anything to you.” “So help me. Fix me. Fix me motherfucker, I’m standing right here.” Haunts me a little. Ahhh mandy 😭 I cry every time at that fucking scene.
It hurts to see her devotion to John (and he refuses to give up on her to the point of his death, he believed in her most of all, because she was the example of his ideology) while also seeing her so fundamentally disagree with his principles through her own struggles. She's just pain, pain, agony. Pain. (Another victim of the unresolved emotional conflict deaths 👏)
4. Danny “Jed Olsen” Johnson (Dead by Daylight Ghostface)
Idk why but the dbd ghostface is just so so good. Like I love the Scream movies sure but Danny is a special case. (Also I was a ghostface/stealth killer main back in my dbd days lmao) Danny's story and persona is great, from the Roseville murders, to how he writes/visualises the crimes before they happen, the way he wears certain perfumes during special kills. He’s just so interesting as a ghostface. He seems obsessed with the horror; the unexpected, the atmosphere, the anticipation, the thrill, the reverence of his stories and legacy. He seems to almost feed off of the human response, the fear and resulting chaos when people read his stories in the paper after each kill.
The local police were confounded: the murders were carried with fury akin to a crime of passion yet coldly premeditated.
The scarier the story, the more he appreciated his life. The truth of the stories made them far more potent.
He’s so in love with making a carefully constructed, terrifying story come to life. Yet he’s still impulsive and hot headed when something in his design falls apart. Ah reminds me on the days I’d write paragraphs on analysing his character based on the small background we had before the archive tome 🥰
And I will always adore how well his gameplay in dbd lines up with him as a character.
5. Gintoki Sakata (Gintama)
Listen I have such a soft spot for Gintama and by extension Gintoki himself. He acts lazy, aloof/sarcastic, unattached and a bit "not my problem, don't care, glhf with that"/selfish but he always has a good heart in the end. Often putting himself in danger to help others and going the extra mile for them when they're at the end of their rope. Notably from memory for broken families and people desperate for reconciliation/a second chance.
This anime had so many emotional beats for how silly it looks on the surface. I remember crying from emotional impact into crying from laughter in the same episode when I first watched the series. Also a lot of heartfelt moments of advice and commentary on the human condition. He’s so adorable. Parfait king.
6. Kokichi Oma (DRV3)
Here we go. Not my proudest one (was honestly a little scared to mention him because of the fandom/character perception etc but DR series was a huge part of my teen years along with RPG horrors so rip) but man does this kid mess me up. It hurts so much how he was just trying to investigate and end the killing game in his own way (trust issues so he refused to openly team up). And the way he spirals so hard in the trial after getting Gonta (who, I think he did consider a friend) killed as self defence against Miu is just 💔
The way he considered them all friends and in an attempt to end the killing game, he died slowly and painfully, while knowing they all hated him.💔 Yes his means/the way he went about it were fucked, yes I understand why people hate him. But jesus christ does understanding his motives and his emotions during the game fucking hurt. (another unresolved emotional conflict death let’s gooo)
7. Tiffany Valentine (Child's play series/chucky tv show)
Oh I love her so much. She gets two gifs bc I can’t choose. She was like the highlight of s2 especially. I love her energy, her swings, her endless obsession with/pursuit of knowing true, all consuming love; the way she will not be devoid of all humanity and loves her kids and will realise some things Chucky does are awful while still conversely doing absolutely abhorrent things herself (the Nica incident perhaps?). Will never argue with seeing more of her. I'm so glad the show delivers. (I still need to catch up on s3 though). I would honestly love a little more of her formative story, how she became Valentine.
8. Michael Myers (Halloween)
Another showing my love of horror here but this big guy is a classic. Actually what got me into horror so intensely tbh. I love his little arts and crafts. The way he'll string up a whole scene just to get the most screams and fear. The way he panics when his mask is removed. I do always wonder about him. I mean we're told he's evil in human form but I can't help but feel Loomis gave up on him. Everyone did. I don't doubt it's as basic as him being the shape of evil and that's fine but I like how ambiguous it has always been. There is no clear cut answer on why Michael is what or who he is and I love it.
Wow love the recurring themes here. I’m sure I probably forgot a few older faves too but oh well. Time to not analyse those and go sleep.
Tagging @potetosaradas @dayglomasochism @lara60 @drawmanations @zanukavat if any of you want to share your faves. 🥰
#tag game#long post#hexed rambles#there are a lot of characters I like but not many faves it seems#faves I have to have been mentally or emotionally unwell over them at least once#the funniest thing to me is some of these aren't even in my top 10 media#adding nick valentine as my 9th bc replaying fallout 4 😢 ily detecto peepaw
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the sea around us; chapter twenty-seven
In which Rafe Cameron has to choose between his dad and a pogue who's changing his outlook on life more and more every day.
(rafe cameron x f!oc)
(eventual!jj maybank x f!oc)
warnings/tags: violence, drug/alcohol use, smoking, sexual content (if you squint), slowburn, older brother’s best friend, (these tags are obv not exhaustive but regardless it’s pretty PG13)
wc: 1.4k
my masterlist
series masterlist
requests
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ
~Rafe's POV~
I stand at the edge of the police tents on the side of the water in the pouring rain, looking out into the pitch black of the ocean. I was told that Kiara and Pope were brought in by the cops, but they were alone. It was too late.
I wiped all the blood off my face, but my whole body still aches from the beating I took from Pope earlier, all I can think about is Snowy's voice, giving me the worst goodbye I've ever received.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
I have bigger things to worry about. I'm basically Barry's bitch now- now that he knows what my father did. I doubt he'll let it go smoothly. It seems no one will- and they refuse to understand.
I look around as I hear voices pick up and as lights start to flick on down the coast, the cut is finally getting power back after hurricane Agatha. I watch as the lights get closer, and suddenly the lighthouse is illuminating the surface of the ocean, landing on a boat out on the water.
"That's them!" I hear someone yell, and I squint to try and get a better look at the boat, I don't think it's the one I saw at the garage. It's seconds before they're being chased out by police boats, and taking off into the storm.
It can't be her. I'm praying it's not her. No one knows that she was planning to run, they think it's John B and Sarah, but I know. I can't bring myself to tell anyone- though. I didn't want to let her go, but I'm not willing to sell her out either. It's impossible to choose between her and my dad- and I'm walking the fine line between the two. I don't know how this is so hard- I have to choose my dad. I have to, but I can do her one last favour by saying I don't know where she went, which isn't entirely untrue.
I hear my dad talking and walk under the cover of the tent.
"John B, son, if you can hear me, please come back. Just turn yourself in." He says as I lean on the table next to him. "If you love my daughter as much as I think you love my daughter, you'll turn around and bring her in. It's too dangerous riding out into that storm, you won't make it."
Feedback comes back through the speakers on the radio, before a voice crackles through. It sounds like they're farther away than that boat that the police are chasing, but I keep my mouth shut.
"Ward Cameron, do you hear me?" It's John B.
"Yes son, I'm right here. Please bring her back, okay? We'll work it all out when you get home." My dad lies. I clench my jaw as I feel Officer Shoupe's eyes on me.
"You killed my father. And you framed Snowy and me for a murder we did not commit, after you tried to kill us with a god damn spear gun!" He yells into the radio. "You took everything from me!"
I look over at my dad but he avoids my eyes. He looks stoic- like he really couldn't care less. But I can tell he's a little panicked with police and government eyes on us while John B accuses him of two murders- and attempting to kill Snowy. If that was true she would have told me, but I don't know why John B would lie about that. It's a bold claim just to make someone look bad.
"But I am still here." John B continues. "And I swear to god, Ward, I will come back one day and take what's mine."
"So you listen to me, alright? I'm coming for you." It's cutting out so badly now it's hardly audible. "I am coming for you."
My dad doesn't respond, and it's only a matter of seconds before someone informs us that we've lost the signal. I find myself slamming my fist against the table, but no one stops me. My dad shoots me a glare. Keep it together. He's telling me. I can practically hear his voice in my head.
"Listen, those are kids out there." Shoupe says into the radio, taking it from my dad. "Don't stop looking."
Something about that makes reality hit me. She's so young- I can't take it anymore. I will face her anger for selling her out when she gets back, but it will be worth it just to hear her voice again."Snowy is out there. Her and that friend of hers, uh, JJ, have a second boat and they're out there too and you have to find her." I say, trying not to display the panic I'm feeling in my voice.
"Where are they going?" Shoupe asks me and I shake my head.
"I don't know."
"Alright. You two stay here- we're going to need to talk to you." He says, patting the table and joining the officers who are reeling over what I said, trying to fit that into their planned approach on how to catch them.
I feel like I betrayed her. I know I shouldn't, because so far what I assume was their plan has already worked and John B and Sarah aren't being followed. I'm just struggling with the idea that she is out there on the ocean when I can hardly see a foot outside this tent because of the hurricane.
I step outside the tent to try and catch my breath. It felt like the walls were closing in on me just thinking about what Snowy's facing out there- if she's even still alive.
"Rafe, son, did you say Snowy is out there?" I hear a man's voice as they approach me. I recognize him as her father.
"Yes sir." I nod, looking past him and seeing his family in tow. "She's with JJ, on the boat they're chasing now. I think."
"Shit..." He mumbles, rubbing his forehead. "You guys get inside." He says to his wife, who leads the twins inside. I make brief eye contact with Declan as he walks past, holding tight onto his moms hand. I feel guilty because I couldn't stop Snowy from leaving him.
Their dad follows them into another tent, designated for families to wait, and Kegs stops right next to me, not saying anything for a few moments.
"You want to come wait with us?" He asks, as we're both looking at my dad inside.
I nod, and we both walk in where we see his mom talking to the Heyward's. They don't look pleased to see me, but they have bigger problems. We all do.
It's only a few minutes before we get news from an officer, but it felt like forever.
They hesitate before speaking, and that's how I know it's not good news. "We, uh... We lost them." He says, rubbing his arm nervously. I feel totally disconnected from my own body- I feel numb.
I look over at Snowy's parents, who look devastated, then angry. "They're dead? They're just kids, please, you have to do more!" Her father insists. "You have to find her!"
"No, sir, we don't know that. We just lost track of the boat. They could still be out there." I can tell her dad doesn't believe that's possible when he shakes his head, turning away from the kids as he tries to hide his tears. Kegs is gone from my side and over with the twins, who are sitting on some camping chairs in the corner. He's talking to them quietly, but I can still hear the shake in his voice as he tries to explain what's going on without outright saying that their sister is dead. They start to cry, and I can't take it anymore.
I quickly walk outside, trying to create as much distance between me and that tent as possible. I can't cry. I won't. Keep it together, my father's voice echoes in my mind but I can't take it anymore. I know there are tears streaming down my face but I can't feel them with the company of the relentless rain. I squint out at the water, the flashing police lights are long gone from the ocean now, but I know she is still out there. Alone. I did everything I could to try and get her to stay but it wasn't enough and now I'm paying for it, and I can feel her drowning. I could scream. I just want to scream into this storm until it hears me and lets her out the other side alive.
So I do.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･
omg that is part one finished! now on to part two/s2. thanks so much for all the love on this series so far, it's not my most popular one but it has such a special place in my heart and i guarantee it won't stop until the box is cancelled or ends lol. maybe not even then- honestly. anyway, thank you guys so much!!
taglist: @boo22sstuff @madelynie @username5786451 @peachprairie @slut4drudy @sadfury @mutual-mendes @cecesrings (i also tagged some mutuals for the last chapter of part one!! message me or reply if you want to be added (or removed lol)!!)
#rafe cameron#obx fanfic#obx#outer banks#rafe obx#rafe cameron x oc#rafe fanfiction#rafe fic#jj maybank#jj maybank x oc#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x reader#rafe imagine#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#jj maybank x pogue!reader#jj obx#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank fanfiction
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Would you be willing to share a bit from A Truce, As Null And Void As Yourself?
Certainly!
A Truce, As Null And Void As Yourself is the official name of the FC5 Arranged/Forced marriage AU I've been kicking myself to find a name for. Essentially, the plot is, Silva and the Resistance leaders meet with the Seeds to negotiate a truce/peaceful resolution, but Joseph will only give it if Silva is handed over to them and marries a suitor he's chosen... that being Jacob (much to the guy's dismay) because "the Voice said so". This doesn't work for Silva for many reasons (incompatible orientation, she hates Jacob plus the cult's guts and also the fact Joseph didn't even say anything about compensating the Hope County residents for the deaths and destruction they've brought being amongst those reasons), nor does it for Kamski and the Resistance so they decline... until Silva is given time think back on all the things that had lead her to this life, and a visit to Carmina and her parents reminding her of what she lost due to her past hotheadedness and thirst for vengeful justice, and her own guilt over multiple things push her to take the deal with Joseph with a few altercations; she will join Eden's Gate and marry Jacob if he can acknowledge that the marriage is purely tactical and does not at all require her and Jacob to do things that both would find uncomfortable or would be downright impossible for either to commit to, and she wants him to agree to whatever reparations the county wants back for all the trouble and terror Eden's Gate caused them.
By this point, in most fics like this, Eden's Gate and the Resistance would co-exist, and the deputy would slowly live assimilate in the lifestyle of the cult, and find it "not that bad".
Here though? I argue differently. I agree that if an alliance was required, Eden's Gate and the Resistance would team up to deal with the third party. But this isn't an alliance; it's a call for a truce/peaceful resolution to the violence.
I absolutely agree that Joseph views the Seals opening as a bad thing, and would hope to avoid it. He does not want any of his siblings to die, and hopes that his guidance can keep them to the visions where they do survive to see Eden (as his voicemail to John also implies) which the Voice showed him. However, while Joseph believes he can prevent the deaths, he is unaware that the Voice is capable of deceiving him, showing him visions it itself does not intend on following through with.
Joseph doesn't want the Seals to break... but what he doesn't know is that the Voice absolutely does, because that's how the Collapse happens; through sacrifices. It had designed things so that either Joseph loses his family again, or the deputy fails everyone and loses themself + everyone they've come to care for in the process. And in FC5, the Voice got a two-in-one package deal.
In this fic, the truce is exactly as it says on the title... null and void. It's a ploy. The Voice does not care for honor, or human concepts such as trust... it will ensure the Collapse happens, by either pushing its Muse (Silva) to the edge of distress til she fights back and breaks the rest of the Seals and taking all Joseph had, OR the Prophet (Joseph) pushes Silva til she breaks down after losing everything; the life she wanted to live, her independence, her community (again) and herself. The 'As Yourself' part of the title is up to interpretation... either it refers to the Voice, who is hollow inside except for its (preset) sadism and without any humanity whatsoever, or Joseph for literally sacrificing human values just to appease the Voice's demands despite how much damage it does and how much he may not personally like it, making him essentially a puppet, null and void.
As soon as the Voice gives the word, Joseph will break the truce and Eden's Gate will catch the Resistance unaware. At least... that's what the Voice expects to happen anyway.
Silva absolutely does not have a good time. After all, she's stuck in another cult that restricts her freedom and choices, plans on betraying her conditions, seeks to use very manipulation in the book to keep her with them while being unable to make contact with her friends and allies, is surrounded by people who either detest her or she feels absolute guilt for even being in the presence of (due to killing a lot of the followers) and being afraid to fight back in the off-chance that the truce is on.
Nadi and Alexander are the most sympathetic towards her. Faith isn't very sympathetic at first until she spends enough time with Silva that she jealously finds it unfair that Jacob gets to be married to someone who can rail her is such an ideal partner for her (which might lead to do something, le gasp... daring). John gets sympathetic when Nadi leaves him and he stumbles upon Silva in a very vulnerable state of mind. Jacob and Joseph though are the least sympathetic, with the Voice absolutely thriving in her misery.
Does this fic end happily, bittersweet or depressingly? I haven't decided, but it's one hell of a rollercoaster of emotions, that's for sure. This fic (not excluding The True Sinners) is the closest to a "Silva joins Eden's Gate" as you're going to get without completely changing her core values and beliefs.
Hope this is satisfactory!
#far cry the silver chronicles#far cry 5#wip: a truce as null and void as yourself#oc: silva omar#joseph seed#jacob seed#faith seed#john seed#the seed family#the project at eden's gate#the resistance#fc5 the voice#oc: alexander khaos#oc: nadi sinclair#oc: kamski neon
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My thoughts on Russian Doll: Rewatch Edition [Part 1]
I had forgotten how unexpected and jumpscare-y the first time Nadia dies is.
RUTH MY DARLING. HOW I MISSED YOU.
I could be at the best party of my life, surrounded by the people I love and who love me, and yet I would spiral into a sadness dissociation. Nadia is just like me fr. (I know the trauma was very recent but you get what I'm saying)
I love that homeless guy so much you don't understand. I don't care about the ex though.
Nadia, why are you sitting in such a vulnerable position when you've already died once?
It's actually so much interesting to see the people around Nadia slowly lose their sentience as the universe continues collapsing their reality. A great example of it is Maxine. You can see how much this timeloop affects everyone, best through her. There's subtle changes (maybe this needs a post of its own)
Love that she still thinks it's the drugs and not just the misfortune of being the victims of universe's educating spree.
I think something worse than dying again and again is dying in the same way multiple times. These goddam stairs.
Imagine being Maxine and your friend is just acting full on CRAZY crazy.
Giving new meaning to "It's my party, and I'll cry if I want to"
Going to the Rabbi. I think I would start going to priests/pandits/any other terminology used for them, if I was going this insane as well. I can't figure out if she's Jewish me or not though. As much as I can remember from my first watch, she's not. (I don't want to repeat the part.)
My favourite thing about Nadia, as a protagonist, is that she's not a saint, she's not likeable all the time. She has a lot of fuck ups, even if she's suffering at the whims of the universe. Normally, female characters aren't allowed to be raw and messy and human is such manner. Really shows you the difference in a show made by a woman and a show made by a man.
MY MAN IS HERE. Boy, you have a lot of loser energy but I love that so come here, baby.
"Like, if you weren't paying me, I never would've spoken to you" Wow. That wasn't even said to me and it stung so bad.
He has this deep sadness in him. An aching to keep his life in control, to be understood, to keep things as they are. It's an impossible thing to do, to accept that you can't avoid change.
"You fucked the gingerbread man?!" "Don't call him that." "YOU CALL HIM THAT." BAHAHAHA
Love the way Nadia finds Alan's name. Just based on the fact that he's uptight and way too routine oriented.
I HAD FORGOTTEN THE DOUCHEBAG NADIA MEETS ON THE FIRST NIGHT WAS THE GINGERBREAD MAN.
Death by electrocution. Jesus fucking Christ. That's horrible.
YES, MY BOY. Go completely unhinged. [<- Just threw his stuff like a normal person instead of rearranging it like a serial killer]
"Okay, check it out. I gave everybody here an opportunity to tell me I'm a bad person. Nobody did it because I fucking rule, so... there goes your theory." This is going to be my mindset for the rest of my life. Impostor syndrome who?
I love the little details since Ep1 of how this loop is affecting the real world. The people disappearing, the food rotting, the animals disappearing.
Going the route of making the main male and female characters a Weirdo duo >>>>>>>>>>
"I don't know who the fuck you are, I don't know what's going on here, but either you two suck each other's dicks or get the fuck out of my apartment." MAXINE THE QUEEN YOU ARE.
WHEN NADIA DIES BY RUTH'S HANDS IS THE SADDEST ONE SO FAR. I HATE IT SO MUCH.
"Nobody chooses me. I'm the hole where a choice should be." This hurt me. Hit too close to home.
The way Nadia is slowly being consumed by the grief of this reality of hers. Seeing John have his heartbroken again and again. It's just. Your grief just doesn't affect you, it affects everyone, it consumes everything around you. (I wish I could articulate my thoughts and feelings better. I struggle to even form coherent sentences these days)
"You created an impossible game with a single character who has to solve everything entirely on her own. That's stupid." "Watch and learn, baby face." This is what we call foreshadowing.
"I can fuck you better than Mike" My boy you need to be awake first.
It's about community and love and connections. And how we as social beings need other people to survive and thrive and be safe. In every way, the physical, emotional, we need people. We cannot be loners. That's not a viable way of living. The moral of the story is let others help you, believe that the world is a better place because you're in it.
Not just that but a sub plot (the building block to the major plot in S2) that no matter how much you suppress your inner child, no matter how much you try to forget them, they're still within you. You cannot take care of your present self or improve things for your future self until you acknowledge the child.
It's just, how beautifully it is shown the importance of human connection, loving and caring for others, why it is the utmost responsibility as humans to keep each other safe and well. Humans didn't come all this way without that love and compassion, and this recent trend of hyper-individuality has really fucked us over.
#Wish I was better at articulating how I feel and how something made me feel but I grew up in a hosue where we never talk about what's wro-#-ng but bottle everything up. be passive aggressive. and wait for all the bottled emotions to explode so bad. the people around-#experience the sting of our words so bad it's like carrying a shrapnel in your chest#Anyways#Russian Doll#Russian Doll Season 1#Nadia#Nadia Vulvokov#Alan Zaveri#Ruth Brenner#Maxine#Lizzy#John Reyes#Jae rewatches
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SPNWIN 1x13 - Season 1 Finale Thoughts
I have avoided all spoilers, let's see how this goes!
Oh it starts with the flashback of John coming back from the army
He's just sitting there for hours apparently
"John Winchester?" HEY I KNOW THAT DEEP VOICE
John: "Sir, can I help you". He calls him sir! That must be so weird for Dean lol
OMG Dean looks like a sailor! He has a turtleneck!!!
…and he gives John the fated letter from Henry
BOBBY!?!?!?
"We're not supposed to meddle with things, idjit". Oh so it is heaven shenanigans?
I cannot deal with Dean wearing that outfit, it looks so very not him lol
"One last hunt, huh?" "One last hunt." hmmmmmmmmm
Oooh the title card is different. It gets sucked into some interdimensional thingy or something? Well, I like it.
Henry has a lead on "the guy", apparently some hunter named Joan saw him. And Mary doesn't wanna go to that one college. The future without hunting is scary.
John wears the bad red plaid!
If Mary leaves hunting, what does it mean for her and John's relationship? Will we ever find out
Carlos looking at that Dean pic again:"Whoever he is, he is ruggedly handsome" 😏 Everyone has the hots for Dean and who can blame them (gonna be awkward once they find out who he is though…)
So either Dean has to kill the Akrida (since he is "not of this earth") or Ada has to burn her soul with the crystal. Decisions, decisions.
Lata is gonna look for a way to save Ada's soul if she has to use the crystal. My girl is gonna find a way!
So Joan who knows about Dean is also dead(or whatever state they are in)? Or she is some other being. Interesting.
Wait, Joan threw Dean and the Impala through the Akrida portal??? And only John's journal is left? What's going on…
Joan is the queen ooooooh. Now it makes sense.
John, don't stop her monologue, I wanna know more about her being human once!
Joan: "Join me, OR DIE." Girl, that's no choice.
She does the finger snap and is gone. Interesting.
Y'all didn't know Lata is still in the clubhouse that just got raided by the Akrida? Bad oversight.
Lata actually attacking the queen with a knife, breaking her pacifist streak. Sadly it doesn't do anything.
Joan Hopkins lived in 1673, wanted out of hunting and that's why she turned on her own kind.
Joan: "I lost my parents, my brother, all my family to the cause. And then…I lost my William." ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT I SEE
So because there was always more to fight, always a new apokalypse and all, Joan decided mankind is the problem. Because they always need saving and hunters are the ones paying the price….. That's one way to look at it I guess.
The monster essence drove her mad. Don't pump yourself full of monster juice kids!
OH NO LEAVE LATA ALONE D:<
Carlos having an amazing idea. Use the journal Dean left behind and the Osteum to get Dean back through the portal. Well let's go!
Poor Lata got posessed by the Akrida.
The Akrida were made by an "angry God" as a failsave to wipe out all existence. Yeah, that sounds like Chuck.
DO NOT THREATEN LATA I'M SERIOUS
Damn, Ada had to use the crystal to save Lata. I mean it was obviously gonna be used but still :(
They can only bring Dean back from the monster world at midnight. Of course.
John, are you really trying to get Mary to stay behind because whoever is gonna face the queen is probably not gonna come back? My dude, this never works.
John:"If we save the world then you're free." Such a meaningful line for this franchise…
So Mary actually does stay behind. Oh well
THEY HAVE SWORDS. SPN definitely needed more hunters using swords!
OH SHIT THE QUEEN ALSO HAS A SWORD. And the Akrida too. So many swords!!!
They really got the Impala through the portal! …but no Dean apparently. Eh, whatever we got the car that is also not of this earth. Vroom vroom bitches
Joan says she wiped out all the MOL. Wait a minute…
BABY TO THE RESCUE. Run her over
…But the Queen opens the portal just in time for Mary to drive the Impala through. Oh nooo
John falling to his knees. I'm sorry I'm getting destiel flashbacks again.
…of course the portal opens up again and Baby comes back. But now with a suspicious figure driving. WHO COULD IT BE
Oh hey Dean. Mary isn't back though. Hmm
No, she was in the Impala for the dramatic reveal. Okay okay.
Dean: "She[Baby] kept us save. Of course, there's not a lot that can tear me apart. I'm already dead" DUN DUN DUN
Dean was stuck in the world between worlds. Like Limbo you mean
NOT AMERICANA *sobs*
Dean was going for a drive in heaven, with a detour through the ~multiverse~. But what was he looking for?
"I was looking for my family." Yeah, we all were during that terrible excuse of a series finale…
"See, I come from a long line of hunters.I guess I was hoping somewhere out there was a earth, that has a version where my family had a shot at a happy ending." So here we have it. That ending was not a happy ending and Dean is looking for a better one.
So the Akrida were one of Chuck's last creations. Shocker.
Dean: "Now that the Akrida are gone, you can chose your own destiny. Write your own story". I wanna see that CW, give me season 2!!!
JACK!!!! OMG IT'S JACK. And Bobby again too.
Bobby: "This is all kinds of weird. Seeing Samuel witha full set of hair" LMAO
Dean is all "Sorry Jack I meddled with world. Guess I don't deserve heaven. I'm definitely not saying you should put me back on earth" lol
So Dean is gonna give other world John his own hunter's journal. THEY CAN USE THAT IN SEASON 2
Dean to Mary: " I know you think about quitting hunting. Believe me I understand. But you need to do me one favor. Keep an eye out for a yellow eyed demon" DEAN JACK SAID NO MEDDLING
He gives her The Colt!?!??! DUDE
Mary: "Your family…did you ever find a world where they had a shot at a happy ending?"
Dean looking at all of them "I think I did."
James Heffield(Hepfield? Jensen stop mumbling!). Is this some significant kind of name Dean is using?
And they are gone. Maybe we'll see them again…
Lata did find a way to restore Ada's soul. The mighty LORE strikes again.
Mary saw every possible version of herself going through the portal but she's gonna find her own path.
John: "Do me a favor?" "Anything." "No Goodbyes"
But one last kiss
John is all sad while the others talk about the next case. But look, Mary is "not leaving here without you" (sorry). She wants John to come with her. ROADTRIP
They are in the car and want some music.
Hepfield was adamant on one thing "Driver picks the music…" Ah the famous line
That was it. Finale of season 1. I really hope we get a second season! I don't want to lose these characters yet :(
I'm not entirely sure what to make of the whole Dean bit. On the one hand they did give me "the finale was not a happy ending" but then it's all about blood family again and not even a tiny, subtle mention of anything Cas related. I don't want to be too disappointed, since they gave us destiel parallels again but man I just miss Cas :(((
I have to think about it more.
Bonus:
Bobby's face is my face when i saw Dean in that outfit. It weird lmao
#spnwin#spnwin spoilers#spnwin 1x13#spn#my thoughts#and now we wait for any news#on season 2#and or spn 2: electric boogaloo
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1 13 and 18!
1) Is John misunderstood or a villain?
False dichotomy here. I think John is well understood by many fans in that he was a traumatized man and absent father who indoctrinated his sons into a brutal and violent lifestyle (raised them to be soldiers). Like Henrikksen was pretty spot on when he called him a cult leader. The demons just happened to be real.
It's disgusting to me how much John actively avoided his sons during season 1. They didn't even know vampires were still around! (???) John would just drop a pin at a location and send them on goose chases and maybe grace them with his presence if he needed them or they literally tracked him down. Despicable parent behavior.
I don't think this makes him a "villain" though. He's not actively antagonizing the boys (other than giving them soooooo much trauma that they aren't gonna work through). Arguably the most villainous he is is when he tells Dean he's gonna have to kill Sam, and then he dies.
So I don't know. I think he's a shitty dad who fucked them over at every opportunity, but in my head there's nuance between that and villain.
13) Leather jacket or Mary’s ring?
I'm definitely forgetting or missed the lore about Mary's ring, I'm assuming its one of the rings Dean used to wear before Jensen decided no he wouldn't. Or maybe it's from s12? Either way it didn't leave an impact on me (feel free to send me meta to change my mind 👀)
If I have to choose based on symbolism, leather jacket. The leather jacket is such a strong visual signifier of John's impact on Dean's life (your car is his your clothes are his even your music is his etc) AND the fact that he sheds it after a while demonstrates his growth away from being John's shadow. (I know they lost it but still it works for me in canon)
A ring just doesn't have that same (hah) ring to it, especially in a live action show where we don't get that many lingering shots of hands, or insight into how Mary affected Dean.
However. If Sam was wearing Mary's ring... That's something I could get into. Something about Sam latching onto a piece of the mother he never knew, wearing it every day (maybe on a chain so he could hide it under his shirt). Sam wearing the ring when he meets Ruby, wearing it on his hand after Dean goes to hell and staring at it when he exorcises demons (he's doing it for Her but really he's doing it for himself, just like John)
Agh I'm driving myself crazy with this idea actually, maybe the ring if Sam gets to wear it
18) When did Supernatural start declining in quality? (If it did?)
Hahaha well
I'm currently rewatching it so it's fresh in my mind. I've always said 4 and 5 are my favorite seasons but rewatching really cemented that for me. Supernatural is a show that varies in quality season by season, and after a certain point it varies drastically episode by episode. Seasons 1 and 2 are really fucking solid, but season 3 sucks a lot in a lot of ways due to the writer's strike. Then 4 and 5 come in and pick up the pieces pretty effectively.
I think if you're looking for a cohesive show with an ending that makes sense and narrative themes that work, you stop at the end of season 5. Season 6 is a huge dip in quality for me. The first half of the season is so fucking boring and confusing, and by the time it gets it's act together it's time for the finale. But that also makes it similar to season 3, just if season 3 had time to redeem itself.
But I love season 7. I love the new characters and the leviathan and the weird 2011 liberal sensibilities. Season 8 is straight up a vampire diaries soap opera.
Visually the quality declines drastically after season 5. Seasons 4 and 5 use a lot of interesting framing and visual symbolism which stood out compared to the rest of the show, and a lot of that is absent post season 5. A few episodes try to recapture it but the direction becomes pretty generic. The color grading too suffers a lot. There have been so many meta posts about it but truly why does the show get so bright and colorful. I'm not supposed to be able to distinguish dark green from black.
Character writing also suffers post s5. They put the boys through the same wringer over and over and Dean gets angrier and Sam gets quieter and that's it. Not that there aren't good lines or arcs, it's just that compared to the content of the first 5 seasons it's worse.
Notable exceptions, like I said I like season 7. I also think 11 and 12 are good. Season 15 is fucking crazy and evil but it also has like. A plot. Like it's doing season 5 again but at least it knows where it's going.
But yeah. Decline after season 5
Spn Discourse ask game
#ask game#spn posting#asked and answered#anonymous#thank you for letting me talk about eupernatural#i love her and i hate her#i will be thinking about sam wearing mary's ring a normal amount tho
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What's the team member's reaction when someone they care about lets them down? How do they guard themselves against further disappointment?
I'm just gonna put the main team for the case of my sanity 👌
Zil: He's more on frustrated than angry, and trying to keep it on that level. He doesn't want to lash out, knowing it was just a mistake made and can be fixed. Zil will try to communicate why he's disappointed and try to help the other person to avoid it happening again.
Thalia: She's a bit stunned. She had her expectations, just waiting for disappointment and even internally joking about it, and only to be surprised that it actually happened. To lessen any further disappointments, she'll slowly stop asking the other person for anything.
Jane: Unsurprised. It's not the first time anyway. She won't do anything about it though, declaring herself "too tired to fix someone else".
John: No one can really tell with him, since he puts his emotions in a vault and is always with an aloof look.
Ariel: It depends what kind of let down it was. If it were something small, then she sees no problem. But if it's actually something serious/big, then... I don't think Ariel will exactly guard herself from further disappointment, but she will just lower her expectations just a bit.
Zelek: He'll just give a long stare in silence, before letting out a sigh. He's not mad, only disappointed. He won't really guard himself either, but just expect to be disappointed again to lessen the blow.
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Outer banks 1x02
"Maybe you should get better friends."
"Maybe you should get a better boyfriend."
"Like one who doesn't poach?" Uh, how about one that doesn't threaten to drown JB and almost kills said person and doesn't feel guilty about it. How about that Sarah?
JB and JJ have the best friendship. I live for them as the powerhouse duo of this whole show. Like the couples are just kinda meh but the bond JB and JJ have is just amazing. The two of them just bounce off each other. Like their crazy matches each other and it's just pure chaos.
"Bro had a semi-automatic to your head." "That's what I'm saying. It's insane." You all should really think about why... you dipshits. How entitled can you be?
Unpopular opinion: I don't like Rafe that much. His sister could possibly die from falling into the water that's been electrified and his reaction is to assume that she will rather than give a shit. Like what? Red flag. At first, I thought he was just being an asshole of a brother. NOT.
Wheezie has a big mouth... although Topper had reason to worry. Can't blame him for that.
JJ's hands make my hand kink worse than it already is. Like all he's doing is smoking a vape and I'm like "choke me."
"I was under duress." The way his voice cracks. LMFAO!!
"Now you don't have the gun the one time we need the gun?" Kie either you let him keep the fucking weapon or you don't. Fucking CHOOSE.
"JJ loves the rooster", a few minutes later he snaps its neck... that's depressing.
The gaslighting from Topper is strong with this one. "I'm sorry that uh.. That I had a gun pointed at my head. Do you know how that feels?!" He almost murdered someone, fucking dumbass! HELLO?! "I deserve that." Not what she said at all, and he wasn't gonna stop so... "I'm just trying to protect you." and right back around to making her sound crazy "I don't think you're getting it though." Then flips to making her feel guilty about the whole situation like it's her fault, "I'm sorry I just care about you."
John B kisses Kiara, but she's confused and thrown by the whole thing meanwhile:
Me: "What? I'm confused that you're confused that he'd kiss you. We're all confused at your confusion."
You know, I'm gonna admit that I liked Ward in the first and second episodes. He made himself seem like a decent person, a family man and worked hard. How wrong I was.
I'm surprised that high of a voltage didn't knock him unconscious.
And after the kiss, Kie's in a weird fucking mood. She sounds even a little agitated and avoids JB like the plague even though she said that she didn't mind. I'm a woman and I don't even fucking understand what she's doing!!
"Let's stay friends, Even though I've been crushing on you since the first episode." Oh my god, what is this? The 1st grade?
Like I love Kie but girl, what the fuck?
JJ is all chaos, all the time. Who the hell barks at snakes?
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The Saint John
St John Rivers has ambitions of going to India to be a missionary. He wants Jane to come with him--as his wife. He is honest about it not being a marriage of love, purely of convenience, he thinks Jane would make a good missionary's wife and they could do a lot of good together. (Why he bothers about that now that he has some money is not something I can explain, but okay.) He says she was made for labour, not for love.
Which is a shitty thing to say, but... she admitted something of the kind herself. This is a warning to you all--don't be self-deprecating.
I don't want to do a deep dive into St John. There has been a lot said about him by others, so I don't think I need to add to it. You know, I don't like comparisons. Old media or new media, mainstream or obscure, movies or books, what if I like both? What if both is good? And as both can be good, equally both can be bad. Just because St John sucks, doesn't mean Rochester doesn't. Both are bad. Jane doesn't have to be with either of them. She can find someone better. They're not the two last remaining men on Earth. And even if they were, she should still be with neither. She can stay single. Not for those self-deprecating reasons above, but because she deserves better.
There's too much focus on St John. I'd rather hear more about Diana and Mary. Gods know Jane needs female friends.
I wish St John was a better character. I'd prefer him to be a normal guy, who'd become a brother to Jane. Heck, even better if he was the nice friendly curate that I mentioned before, in the Thornfield church, or whatever the church is called, the one where the wedding didn't happen. He'd end up being her true love.
Imagine Jane meeting him when she moves to Thornfield, the first Sunday she goes to church. They become friends, talk about faith and philosophy and whatever, they get on. But soon he leaves for his own parish. Jane feels lonely. Rochester arrives at the scene. All the shit goes down, yadda yadda. Jane flees Thornfield. She seeks shelter with the only friend she's got, at his new parish. (Imagine it's somewhere not too far, where Jane can afford a fare, it can still be the same Morton place.) He takes her in, and she slowly falls for him as she recovers from the ordeal and from her unhealthy obsession with Rochester. They see an advert in a paper that is looking for a Miss Jane Eyre. She writes to Briggs, gets her fortune, and somewhere on the way meets her cousins Diana and Mary and she shares the money with them. (St John is not her cousin in this AU, to avoid that coincidence.) Add in bit of a romantic conflict with St John thinking she might not want him after she gets rich, or that she's still in love with her former employer. They marry and live happily ever after.
Most importantly, in this AU, his name is not St John.
I should have just made a post listing fanfic ideas.
Perhaps you think I had forgotten Mr. Rochester, reader, amidst these changes of place and fortune.
No, I don't think you have forgotten Mr Rochester, but you have no idea how much I wish you did.
She writes to Briggs, inquiring where Rochester is. Briggs writes back that he doesn't know. (Briggs to his associates: "the fuck is wrong with this woman? Are we sure that the money is safe with her?") She writes to Mrs Fairfax, twice, but gets no answer.
What Could Have Been
This could have been the best part of the book, if Charlotte wrote it better. Jane getting the money, finding new friends/family, getting over Rochester, doing new things and going to new places. She should travel, go shopping with the girls. It would be a much better experience than the harrowing shopping trip with Rochester. Diana gives her some fashion tips, Jane finally discards the boring blacks and greys, shreds the idea of plainness. I think hers was more a case of "you're not ugly, just poor". She was not pretty, but neither was she that ugly. And not just that. She could do some charity work, help those in need, poor orphans like she used to be. And where's that dream of opening her own school?
What Charlotte gives us instead is tedious talks with St John. It's obvious he only exists to make Rochester look better in comparison. Doesn't work on me, like I said, both are the worst, each in his own shitty way.
Jane entertains the notion of going to India, but not as St John's wife. He won't hear of it, as the two of them going to India as single people is not advisable. One day she's finally broken enough to agree to be his wife. As she's about to say yes, she hears Rochester's voice calling to her. It calls "Jane" three times. She goes to bed (it's night), wakes up early the next morning, packs a bag and gets on a coach to Thornfield.
Keep in mind, neither Diana nor Mary know anything of her unhappy love affair. This is why I say she needs female friends. St John knows only because he heard of it from Briggs. I wish she told them. I like to think that by hearing herself tell her story, she'd realise how awful Rochester is and forgets him. And if it's so necessary for her to travel to Thornfield, for closure or whatever, she should take Diana and Mary with her.
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