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astrangergivingthestrangewelcome · 1 year

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As Much As Is Realistically Possible We Should Avoid Getting Our Panties in a Twist Over Being Faithful To The Canon: Me Giving Dracula Opinions Alongside a Good Does Of Generic Fandom Philosophy Because I'm A Procrastinating Idiot Who Likes To Hear The Sound Of My Own Voice

Don't get me wrong I fucking hate when what I personally love about the canon is ruined in adaptations. Still waiting on any adaptation to actually give me a post-castle Jonathan which is in any way as interesting as he is in the book. But also, the nature of fandom and fanfiction and fanon and all that is we all engage with a story, are drawn to some aspect of the canon which resonates with us, and then typically use this as a jumping off point to explore things that the text doesn't. This is true for pretty much everyone out here draculablogging.

For example, there is in my opinion absolutely no evidence that Lucy Mina and Jonathan were a trio of childhood friends. Lucy's family does not seem to have property in Exeter and Jonathan literally never thinks about Lucy on his own. It seems obvious to me that Mina and Lucy met at boarding school. I'm quite happy to keep this element of canon in my fics because it makes sense to me. Conversely I do like to dabble in Van Helsing: Vampire Slayer, and that is expressly not canon. But idrc because it's more fun and interesting to me to have it that way. People who want to see Lucy, Jonathan, Mina childhood best friend trio bc they think it's cute are just as valid, even though I don't particularly care one way or the other. It's kinda silly to be like *eye roll* well this is fanon not canon when I guarantee you if you really look at your own preferences you're doing it too, and who really cares? People just like different things. Plus the whole point of fandom is you can go places where the canon didn't like if you write in a best friend trio then you get to explore why Lucy and Jonathan apparently grew apart. If you write an occult background for Van Helsing you get to maybe color in some of his odd edges. That's cool and good who cares if it's not strictly accurate as long as you don't pretend you're being canon compliant.

Now, those two examples are pretty innocuous, but bc this novel gets pretty heavy at times, naturally the Discourse amps up when things amp up. For example, I really like to write Mina having a lot of rage. I like her to want to rip Dracula limb from limb (granted my fics always have her role-swapped with Jonathan in the books). I am well aware that this is not in her book character at all, who consistently pities Dracula and counsels against vengeance. Personally, I just think vengeful Mina is more fun, and it's also true that I don't appreciate how Bram Stoker is like "yes perfect christian woman. perfect. all mercy. so pitying." I don't think it's quite realistic to what her feelings would be to a man who assaulted her and I also think she should get to be waaaayyy more angry about the way Dracula abused the two people she loved in all the world. I like feminine rage and I think Mina should have some and so I write her as having some. But I also get that plenty of people don't really vibe with righteous anger and like Mina's whole mercy bit and find it really really compelling, and sure plenty of victims of assault in the real world are not preoccupied with revenge. And that's such a valid take and fics that run with it are more reflective of Mina's book characterization than mine. And once again both are good. Neither side needs to be going "well MY changes are inherently more feminist than yours" to justify our preferences, it's just what we like, we can just like it, and if there is a feminist slant to what we think/write/draw it does not mean the other take is anti-feminist.

This is also why, in my opinion, it's truly not that deep if people want to ship their little harkula dracumina dark romance ships. Like full disclosure I think some of the most fucked up harkula stuff can be hot, but I have 0 interest in reading the stories that really focus on Dracula embodying the repressed desires of either Jonathan or Mina. I do absolutely exclusively read the stuff where Dracula is an unsympathetic abusive monster, and I want to read stories that use that as the anchor for horror, and I want to read stories that have Jonathan and Mina overcoming that abuse.

Now That Doesn't Mean I think the people who want to do the whole twisted love stockholm syndrome thing are bad or shouldn't do it. They are clearly just coming to the text from a completely different place than I am. It's not like I would disagree that at the very beginning before the torture began Jonathan was kinda attracted to Dracula in the Victorian queer horror way. If people want to do the whole reincarnated wife thing with Mina bc idk they really like the Coppola film or whatever, sure. I will not read that, but I'm not going to invent reasons why they're Bad Dracula Fans. It doesn't matter if it's not canon, so long as you don't say it's canon (why did you name it Bram Stoker's Dracula Francis it's not Bram Stoker's Dracula you did not adapt ANY of the characters faithful why are you lying)

Anyway I know I'm not really saying anything new, and mostly the Dracula fandom has been fine but I have seen a few takes out there acting like canon is a trump card that it truly isn't, and i've also definitely seen people get up on the moral high horse on like, depictions and portrayals of abuse etc. and although fandom can be a wonderful space to tell important, compelling stories about heavy topics, when people don't want to do that, they're not less moral than you. Lots of the time they're trying to tell important, compelling stories about heavy topics of a different sort, and sometimes they're writing porn. This is normal fandom stuff.

#dracula #dracula spoilers

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morethanonepage · 1 year

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1 3 5 8 15?

What's something you've written that you know is OOC and you just don't care?

lmfaoooooo i'm torn between priding myself that NOTHING I EVER WRITE EVER IS OOC and being like, everything i ever write is ooc bc deep down i want even the messiest/most awful characters to have nice fluffy moments together and i know realistically that would not happen BUT THAT'S WHAT I WANT and so i continue to write it.

i think sometimes i *have* written stuff more for the joke of the thing (the one where chas shaves his beard, the javert-adopts-cossette-instead fic) that are MORE ooc bc again, i wrote them for the humor of the situation, but i like to think they're at least within a RANGE of characterization.

(also i mean any time you write non canon esp slash ships they're like, ooc bc the canon creators would NEVER take it there but i ESPECIALLY don't care about that).

3. Something you wish a commenter had called attention to, but got ignored.

oooh i don't know really, there's usually at least one line that i'm really proud of myself for writing in terms of character voice and/or rhythm and/or just like, quiet aching melancholy of the thing and they're rarely mentioned by commenters but like, that's ok mostly. like i think most people who enjoy my fics do so more bc of like, the whole of work & the characterizations over like really beautiful lines or whatever, esp since i see my style as very simple and efficient over it being especially flowery or explicitly emotional.

i do always kind of laugh when i get 'omg so many great lines here i'm not even going to try to quote them all' bc i'm like. well but also you could tho. at least one maybe. to soothe my fragile ego etc.

5. Something you hate to see in smut.

A/B/O.

I mean. Also what I hate in smut is what i hate in writing in general -- epithet abuse and OOC behavior. I'm also kind of weirded out by like. Explicit dick measurements (i.e., where inches/centimeters are specified) unless it's for the lulz (and even then i think it kills the ~sexy mood, which might be the intent so I don't mind in that case). Also really roll my eyes when it's a scene between two men and one or both devotes time to ~I don't have to worry about being rough with HIM, not like if he was a WOMAN. like ok bro sorry it's such a CHORE to treat a woman you're fucking with a modicum of care. (I know in a lot of cases this IS arguably in character. but i do genuinely just find it annoying to read). but like. some women like it rough. some men don't. let's broaden our horizons here.

8. Something you love to see in dialogue.

Inside jokes, esp if they're not explained. (like amongst the MCU's INFINITE crimes, the explicit clarification of 'what happened in budapest' is UP THERE)

And just like. Conversations that fit the canon/characters. Like I hate it when characters in fic sound like tiktok teens/tumblr millennials but i love it when they sound like THEMSELVES and aren't just talking about stuff that moves the plot forward. sometimes people just have conversations with their friends. it's part of worldbuilding/setting the mood. And it's ABOUT the conversation-- I hate big blocks of text where it's just one character dumping exposition, I like it when there's interruptions and responses and eyerolls and huffs of laughter etc etc etc.

y'know. the sicko to sicko communication of it all.

15. We all project onto our characters. Where has your personality or life choices leaked onto the page the most?

lolllll well my thirst for nbc!chas chandler is the basis for like, 75% of my johnchas fic (the 25% which is written from chas' POV is about my self esteem issues). also a lot of john being a jerk/saying the wrong things is like, catharsis for me bc i'm generally pretty careful about not upsetting people (shut up it's true in my real life) and i think on some level john enjoys being the worst and it's fun for me to imagine/write what that would be.

also a lot of my AUs have characters be lawyers. like it's pretty heavily implied in a last minute possibility that Poe is a public defender, mostly bc the idea delighted me. In my finnpoe big bang fic that has not seen the light of day, Poe is a political operative with most of my opinions, and Finn is a lawyer from New York who leaves his job to go work in a small up state new york town, which is what i randomly fantasized about doing after going to a wedding in the Hudson Valley. (i know the Hudson Valley isn't REALLY upstate new york. but to me it is.)

Oh god also the so-called travelogue fic (which is a gen fic where Poe spends time with his dad on Yavin IV before the events of TFA but after he joined the Resistance) is mostly just about my memories of visiting Mexico. Like embarrassingly so but I'm still proud of it.

#Fic Writer Asks

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castle-dominion · 11 months

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c1x8 ghosts I've watched a good amount of these!

Why was she submerged & then let out air & then she floated? Makes no sense.

Castle poker night; Espt dealing; Martha wanting to continue; "the working stiff" & then all the real cops laugh; Espt calling her "mrs R" <3; "Well, frankly, I prefer strip because even when you lose, you win." MARTHA (their faces XD); this entire scene is good. I love all their faces & the music playing & just everything here. KB: Man up, "bro" Martha! Shut up! The music I love the interactions between all of them. I think this is why I liked this scene, we get to see them as People. KR: Murder never sleeps, Ms. R. JE: Yeah, and neither do we. watching this entire scene again bc it's so adorable.

Motor oil is clear before it is used tho... in one-gallon jugs??? That sucks, lots of work.

KB: What about tonight? Anyone strange coming in or going out? Clerk: *shakes head* Jasmine, a deep voiced, bearded individual with long blonde hair, high heels, & a short skirt: Hey, Bill. Clerk/Bill: Jasmine. How's it hanging? RC: I think you just described half their clientele. lol I love the transcript, it calls Jasmine "tranny hooker" & tbh I wouldn't have it any other way. (Tho at the time the livejournal was written I don't think it was meant in a positive way.)

Castle, you move past the girlfriend no later than page 50. Love a good notebook.

Or so u think. Having seen this I know she had a LOT of secrets.

Ryan just making castle a coffee uwu, point for the rystle fans. There was an easier way of saying that espt. KR: Maybe Castle was right. Maybe this is about sex. JE: The lady was a soccer mom. RC: Come by my daughter's school at about 3:30. The place is like happy hour. (Ryan & castle share a look & ryan points at his nose) Their physicality, The nodding, the hands, the head shaking, the cocking & tilting, the turning, all of it.

Ah yes, grab a dead baby's ssn. Just like the first lesbian who got married in ireland. She was straight but legally married the man's dead sister.

MR: Kate Beckett is not some bimbo who needs big, strong you to look out for her. She's a real woman. And a real woman does not want to be patronized. AC: She's right, Dad. I love how he has these two beautiful women with him.

Ooh true crime. Neat.

Lol death over easy & the diner in the background. Did u want those yolks murdered? XD I'm (not) funny

RC: Yeah. Captain, the mayor, and Judge Markway. You know. Your boss. Your boss's boss, and the guy that signs your warrants.

Whose house is this? Lee Wax? the door is just open? sus. ngl I HATE stripes on a screen. Lol the shock at her being a woman. "I am the cops" Your publisher is so right. Murdered??? RC: Well, given your unhealthy obsession for her, I'm going to take a wild stab at you.

Oh yeah, Not a bad idea. RC: But you did anyway. LW: RC: Any true crime writer worth their salt is gonna check her story with other sources. KB: What for? LW: My book. RC: Whoa. You're gonna go through with it? But Cynthia's dead. LW: Correction. Cynthia was murdered. Which means her memoir just became a true crime story, Which is kind of my forte. You'd be doing me a huge favor. KB: You know, I-- I would love to, but I have a whole list of writers who are hanging around, looking for favors. So, thank you very much, though, for cooperating. And, um, catch you on the dark side. These two could totally have a fun night together & as another writer castle def feels for her.

Poor pike, talking to the family & prying up the past, for a book? for HER? I like adam. I like him a lot. Poor boy.

RC: It is a good story. It's a great story. Personally, I would just write a happier ending for that family.

At least he has a job. So you KNEW cynthia was writing the book? I like Swanstorm.

Ooh stories not matching up. She WAS writing for sympathy. Creativity is doing stuff, art is knowing what to keep.

KB: You talked to the publisher? RC: I am somewhat known in those circles????

Noooo not adam pike! AP: Because I wanted to look her in the eye. I wanted to tell her none of it mattered. Her blood money wouldn't buy our forgiveness.

Ah, they knew cynthia was alive, the money was coming.

Oh a random stranger. Pointing the finger to some rando. Wow castle lmao thru the glass.

Writer battle huh. If she was trying to get sympathy she would have told wax abt the money.

RC: Remind me if I ever decide to write a memoir, to never write a memoir.

They have a corkboard today not a whiteboard...?

Love the poker night. Castle is just... friends with these guys. Ooh it's their rematch. Judge: Oh, do us a favor, Detective. Beat his pants off. RC: Yes, please. Beat my pants off, if you dare. RM: Beckett, do me proud. Judge: To hell with "proud." Make him cry like a little girl. He said to call him bob. Castle is so... obnoxious. "Who's a good little boy? Who's a good little boy? You are. And you are. And you are." Judge: Don't you ever get tired of winning, Castle? Castle: Yeah, you'd think so, right? But no.

Yay all of them getting fancy coffees. Esposito has his coffee, & ryan made coffee for himself & castle, & beckett is getting her own coffee. It makes me think that ryan actually knows castle's coffee order. He's made esposito's before (or he does later in the series) & there was that time castle & beckett had their coffees but espt & ryan stole them & took a sip & then switched bc someone likes their coffee like the other. Castle gave beckett's coffee to ryan I think so beckett & ryan like the same coffee, but castle has also drank beckett's coffee before so maybe his order & beckett's are similar enough... idk bro. Do I care? Not actually that much. I just wish someone would watch thru the entire show, take note of all the coffee, & then present me with the facts & conclusion.

Wow they have houses? Thought they were living in NY. You did what you had to do to survive & that's ok! I have a friend from pennsylvania.

Didn't recognize her until castle said 20 years later & possibly scarred. Mail order to new york. I love the audio. I first watched this while recovering from a bad sunburn lol. I like her! She really is confessing everything. Tho Mary/Susan could be lying too ig. Suicide in the oil thing? really? Who is that dramatic? Audio <3 Part manslaughter, part self defense, part murder.

No rick, cynthia was the one who contacted wax. Altho ig you're theorizing well. r u two flirting or hating? Oh it is hate nvm. RC: Oh, and one more thing. One day, and one day not far from now, I'm gonna use this in a book. Weird vest she has there.

RC: Next time, I guess I'll just try that massage parlor on 2nd Avenue. BRUH

Just has a deck with him (was probs planning it tbh). I remember sneaking over to sit at the wrong lunchtable & playing cards with the 9th graders. I remember a story from my english teacher, she ran a poker ring gambling for who got to sit at the table. Lol mano a mujer hand to hand, (like head to head,) not man to man bro. Her gummy bears <3 it's probs what she has in the bowl on her desk. RC: Aside from my muscular arms? XD not funny (I say, having found it funny)

Aight that's it for now. TBH I'll probably watch an audio commentary version tonight instead of liveblogging bc I want to work out & it's hard to work out while you're trying constantly

#castle 1x8 #castle 1x8 spoilers #castle 1x8 quote

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cringefighter · 2 years

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hi hi!! super excited to find your blog and i wanted to request yandere (if you do that??) ej with a broken reader? like yaknow after they just give up with everything. no eating, no drinking, no talking, no fighting back. basically just a shell of a human. if you dont do yandere then can you do this for like maybe um... reader found/saw smth traumatic and broke bc of that? idk just... thank you! :}}}

𝐄𝐉 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐙𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

TW: Really graphical abuse, Jack (who's a walking trigger warning), domestic abuse, manipulation. gaslighting, general assholery

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- To start with, Jack is not a true yandere. He is simply so empty that he is incapable of having any emotion for people. If he does behave as a yandere would, it is purely because he has an almost physical need to possess something/someone.

- You were exactly his favourite type: young, naive, gullible. So he decided to make a move on you (he probably would have anyway). History has repeated itself: you fell madly in love with him, being the womanizer (and manipulator) he was, he quickly and easily seduced you.

- He was probably (no, definitely) the one who traumatised you.

- Jack was quite nice to you at first. Sometimes he tried to control you, but only nicely, quietly. He told you he doesn't want you to be friends with other people. If you spent time with the proxies, he called them drug addicts, Jeff was a fool "in his eyes" (even though they spend a lot of time together), Sally and Ben were little idiot kids. He didn't really did anything if you disagreed with him, but he voiced his displeasure. He only wanted you for himself and didn't wanted to hear about you making friends.

- He also told you that you can only leave the house with him. The thing is, he rarely went away, except when he went away hunting. Or just simply doesn't took you with himself when he's was out walking in the nature.

- After a year or so, Denver's Ripper showed the whites of his teeth. Sometimes, if you did something he didn't likes, he gave you a few slaps or tugged you at your hair. If you were not into it (rightfully so), he gaslighted you believing you were the wrong for disrespecting him.

- Quite often he locked you in the cold room where Jack dissected corpses, sometimes you sat for half a day in a room around freezing point, with a dismembered corpse.

- It gets to you after a while. You slowly go crazy with the whole thing. When you bring this up to Jack, he just laughs and says he had a girlfriend before who did the same thing. Then you remember when Tim told you about a girl who was in the same situation as you, only she killed people for Jack. You're not that deep, thankfully.

- You're ruined, and you'll carry the scars for the rest of your life.

- The trauma has triggered a reaction in you that has turned you basically into a zombie. You couldn't sleep, eat or drink, and your smile was gone.

- Jack (such a shitbag) didn't bothered himself with you. He could smell that you were hungry, but it was days before he told you that you needed to eat. Two or three times a day he told you to drink, which you did because you were afraid of him.

- You just wanted to go home to your family. If you have a family somewhere, i mean, the only one who cares for you is Jack.

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#creepypasta #creepypasta ej #creepypasta headcanon #eyeless jack #eyeless jack creepypasta #eyeless jack headcanon #eyeless jack x reader

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ricaffeine · 4 years

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𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐎𝐧𝐞

an: i'm sad because of hyunji drought and this is helping me cope :( but fr if tvn decides to make hotel blue moon then yeaji needs to be in it!!

also very annoying, i can't reply to comments bc this is a side blog (bruh wtf tumblr, i'm so sad should i make a new one?) reblog if you feel like it and my asks are open if you wanna chat 🖤✨

CHAPTER TWO

Weekdays at Seoul's National art gallery were usually the same. Buzzing curators dealing with hot-tempered clients. One thing or another was typically going not right and art directors cried about their wrong coffee order.

Although today was not the usual as to the crowds of bubbly news reporters and dazzled art critiques swarming up the wide place. As to Munyeong on the other hand, she was not pleased to the slightest.

"Just smile at the cameras, don't forget about the paycheck you're getting today." Sangin repeated himself for the fifth time. "Don't cause a scene, just think about the money."

Ah right. The paycheck.

As to The Nightmare Garden was bid off for over ten-million dollars, all of today's fanciness was dedicated to her, nation's celebrated female illustrator. However in all honesty, Munyeong barely liked her so-called masterpiece, but considering the amount of cash it will make her, she could be appreciative for the sake of it.

Behind her oversized sunglasses, Munyeong glared at her pesky manager– if looks could kill, he'd already be eleven feet under his grave. Sangin shut his mouth.

"Let's just get this over with," she simply responded, hooking off her eyewear then strutted into the hall with her long legs. Eyes whipped at her and cameras started to flash intensely, almost blinding her and Munyeong wondered how much those little pests could afford her if they got her blind.

And so the event played on. More pictures were taken– as if they hadn't blind her enough cheerful compliments flowed along with the spring breeze. The insincere joker smile she mastered whilst she met her million-dollar client– according to Sangin a hotel owner, though the woman did not have the looks for it– and the glass of filthy wine she almost had a chance to taste if Sangin's sixth sense was not so creepily fast.

Another dreadful two hours later as the dusk had set, hitting the edges with its golden flare, everyone had left. They got their articles and Munyeong will certainly be getting her pools of cash.

To her displease Sangin had informed her to wait as he had to take care of some paperworks she doubted he went to bribe the press into censoring her quoted inappropriate words.

Nevertheless it was not her bother. She gave his plead a second before storming off to the complimentary section of the building.

Luck on her side, for nobody was there and she was able to grab one of the wine bottles with her– as for a fact it definitely was not stealing.

"Don't be shy, I know you want it."

Munyeong stopped within her steps as soon as an obnoxiously familiar voice echoed from the gallery she previously was in. Curiosity taking the lead, she peaked through the corner and had to muffle her own snort. Stood there, nation's art historian with the sharpest tongue– Choi Seojin.

She finds it hard to believe that his articles are highly known around, or even relevant, when his mouth is full of complete shit. However not disregarding the nastiest tea yet– a frightened girl seized under him. Her hands were locked, frightened eyes grew larger as the man spewed out nasty things.

Instantly, she took out her phone to film the disgraceful scene. Munyeong grinned to herself, reminiscing the rage she felt last time when he mentioned about her mother, and how her irritating manager had interrupted her before she could've sent him down the stairs to Satan.

The man reared into the poor girl's cheek when she attempted to fight him off, and Munyeong's smile dropped.

That piece of shit.

Munyeong entered the room, arms crossed, head high. Her wedge heels clicked against the hardwood as she let out an unamused wow.

Mad dog– what she personally thinks he should be called– 's head whipped at her with wide eyes. Like a child getting caught of lying.

"Oh my. Your hobbies are quite interesting Mr. Choi. Talking shit and sexual harassment?" Munyeong spat. "The girl looks like she'd rather kill herself, why are you even trying?"

As if he thought he could get away with what he just did, mad dog released his foul grip on the girl. Munyeong clicked her tongue and tauntingly held out her phone.

"Oh no, don't bother pretending. Judging by the looks, that won't even favor you at this point." She spared a glance at the quivering girl. "Why are you waiting? Go."

Shakingly and with thankful eyes she nodded and left, her footsteps filling void of silence before it coated the air again.

Mad dog snickered, as if there was something to laugh about. "Don't mess with me Ms. Ko. You know me, I won't die alone."

"Certainly I'll drag you and Mr. Lee down with me. Why do you think they call me the suicide bomb?"

Munyeong walked towards him and spreaded a smile, though even dogs could tell you shouldn't push her further. "You mean the bastard you can't fall down without dragging everyone else with him? Why?"

"I can destroy your career with the tip of my pen, I'm sure you know." He gave her a look, panning out his hand. "Now if you hand me your phone, I think we can compromise something."

Munyeong unraveled her arms, eyes hardening at his next sentence. "You think so?"

"Nation's beloved artist turned out to have antisocial personality disorder. What do you think will happen when people find out?" Mad dog sneered. "Her mother who mysteriously commited suicide–"

"Shut up." She warned. His words lit up the flame from their last encounter, adding fuel to her burning fire. Her head pounded, hard. For a moment she had hoped that if he proceeded as she said, then things would not have to get ugly.

"And her father? Spending his last days in the psychiatric hospital."

But men never listen, do they?

Munyeong tightened the hand around her bottle and striked it at him with full force. The bottom part crashed the wall behind him– just above the hung painting- glass shattered as rich burgundy stained its way down, smearing all over. Its taste fused with the air and Munyeong glowered at the creature who dodged her flawless aim.

"You crazy bitch!" He yelled, scrambled on the floor. But Mad dog was quick to lunge at her, they both hit the ground, stumbling as her open purse had been knocked away– and Munyeong's eyes landed on something very specific.

She was quicker, getting on her feet and spared the bastard a strong kick in the groin, leaving him groaning as she reached for her pen.

Her favorite calligraphy pen– its lining was stunning, coated in shiny teal with hints of gold, but most importantly, the dangerously sharp tip. The way it writes like reaping out blood from your hand– hence why it is a favorite.

She hawled back over and he screamed at her, though she didn't hear him. Her head was light as she felt blood rushed through her veins. Munyeong raised her arm and struck it back down.

Die.

Both of them froze. No, not her and mad dog, but him.

Deafening silence had lied between the walls and there they stood, eyes pierced into another's souls. Hers burned like fire, but his were dignified like the deep ocean.

Droplets of blood trickled down his forearm and splattered the floor, staining the rolled up sleeves of his crisp white shirt. What a waste.

"Let go. You can't kill him." The man– still with a bloody pen graved in his palm said.

Munyeong couldn't help but scoff, especially after that fucking bastard had just strangled her. "Don't be dramatic. I was just going to give him a few scratches."

Well maybe that's not entirely true.

Rough scrambling erupted underneath them, but when Munyeong turned to look, the mad dog had just ran off, like a lost puppy. Angrily she bit her lip, close to drawing blood until she felt the man draw his own hand back.

She watched as he did. The way he carefully slid her pen into his jacket and brought out a black silk handkerchief. Very rarely, she'd be astonished by something, and now it's him. Though she found it quite difficult to understand him– since when do you interrupt another's stabbing session by screwing up your own hand instead, and also the audacity to tell her she could not stab somebody?

So lost in her thoughts it took her a few seconds to realize her pulse was not pounding anymore.

"Did anyone not tell you that it is basic etiquette to not pry into someone else's business?" Munyeong said– seized the napkin from him, and began to tie a knot. She shot him a glance.

No reply. The man simply stared at her.

"Hmm?" She raised a brow, amused at his slight flinch when she tugged a little harder.

"Don't stress it too much, my manager will take care of our little incident." Munyeong chuckled as he proceeded to ignore her. "Do you know what? There are a lot of people in this world who deserve to die. And some very thoughtful freaks secretly take care of that, so clueless humans can sleep peacefully at night, completely unaware. Which one do you think I am?"

She dropped his hand, anticipating for his answer. Flares of light shined through the blinds, sharpening at his strong features and she noted his small– yet devilish smile.

"A clueless freak."

He finally responded, leaning towards her. His eyes traced her face, gazing down at her lips for a second too long, before their eyes were locked once again. "And of course you will have to pay, but at what price?"

taglist -> i could not tag some of ya'll :( @anotherdush @callmeashipper @ourcoffeeaddictme @nothingcreativeyet @pancat @hotstuff-benswolo @lookingatthesunset @evielovesfood @waywarm @gloster @hello-79 @ailander

#it's okay to not be okay #psycho but it's okay #iotnbo #pbio fic #kdrama #kim soo hyun #seo yea ji #ko mun yeong #ko moon young #moon kang tae #hotel blue moon #hotel moon light

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verobatto · 5 years

Text

Destiel Chronicles

(Vol. XXV)

It was a love story from the very beginning.

There was no time to say 'I'm sorry'

(7x01/7x02/7x03/7x05)

Hello my dears!! This is a new meta from my Destiel Chronicles. We will start with season 7, is gonna be a short road, I calculated a total number of six metas, so.

I want to say thank you to my friend @agusvedder , she made the gifs for this era and discussed some matters.

Okay! Let's start!

You're Not my Cas

After Cas became Godstiel, Dean noticed the big change. He wasn't Cas anymore, even his voice was different, and he'd said Dean wasn't his family.

In episode 7x01 Meet the New Boss (written by Sera Gamble) he have Dean trying to avoid Castiel's topic by trying to fix Baby (a symbolic representation of Dean's heart). Baby is broken, like Dean (bc of CAS) and he's trying to endure it. And he uses this as a distraction too. That's why when Bobby came to see him, he asked him...

BOBBY: So, you fixin' her or primal screamin'?

This is a great point of view here, if Baby is Dean's heart and he's trying to fix it. He's yelling at it. To get better quickly. To forget about Cas and his betrayal. To recognize Castiel isn't his Cas anymore. And now he's a monster and he has to stop him.

Then they start to talk about Cas, and this is the interesting part...

BOBBY: I don't even know what books to hit for this, Dean.

DEAN: Well, figure it out! I'm sorry. This ain't in no book. If you stick your neck out, Cas steps on it. So you know what I'm gonna do?

BOBBY: What?

DEAN: Imma fix this car. Because that's what I can do. I can work on her 'til she's mint. And when Sam wakes up, no matter what shape he's in, we'll glue him back together too. We owe him that.

Again, the car, his heart. He's gonna fix it, because he needs that fixed and patched, and renewed because he knows what he has to do about Cas. So he needs not to feel a thing about him.

He knows how to do that. How to fix things that hurts his heart... He pushed those things down, and deep... But he won't be able this time ( as he will say it in 7x17), because is Cas.

Then, Sam wakes up and...

Again to the car. Because Sammy put his finger in that wound... And Dean is still trying to fix it...

And Because you're not him, I'll try to kill you

Ok, now... The News...

And Dean shutting down the TV because, he knows Cas is young and sexy, he knows more than anyone, because he feels sexually attracted to him, but that, isn't Cas, so... Stop saying things I know about my Cas, I know he's hot, but this one, isn't my Cas.

He shuts the TV, angry and hurted, and he goes to fix his Baby/Heart again.

But while he's fixing Baby, he's hearing the new on the radio, to follow Castiel's steps... Godstiel is targeting motivational speakers.

SAM: Motivational speakers?

DEAN: Yeah, I'm not sure new Cas gets irony any better than old Cas. Of course, old Cas wouldn't smite Madison Square Garden just to prove a point. He is off the deep end of the deep end. And there's no slowing down.

Dean was able now to separate OLD CAS (his Cas) and NEW CAS (the monster they have to kill). His brain is doing this to help him to take the hard decision.

But Sam is the one here that can't lose his faith on Cas, he tries twice to convince his brother to speak again with Godstiel, and Dean explodes, because he was trying so hard to take this decision, and he doesn't need hopes or faith in Cas again.

SAM: Okay.

DEAN: Hand me that socket wrench.

The car again. His heart.

Dean is spilling the very hurtful thoughts he was ruminating the whole time while fixing his car/heart, yeah, that's the thing that huts him so much, Cas isn't coming back. This is not Cas. He betrayed us.

And then, when he vomited all that, he came back to fix his heart, trying hard to do it. The symbolism is exquisite and sad at the same time.

Then, Dean devised a plan to kill Godstiel by slaving Death. They asked Crowley's help, and they summoned Death.

And Godstiel enters in action again. And when se sees what Dean was doing... He said this...

CASTIEL: I didn't want to kill you, but now...

DEAN: You can't kill us.

CASTIEL: You've erased any nostalgia I had for you, Dean.

So... Godstiel had some nostalgia about Dean, because when he was CAS, they shared something profound. Is like someone remembering his ex.

But he gets more mad at Dean when the hunter orders Death to kill him, look at Godstiel's face. And look at Dean face. He's able to do that bc he had in his head a voice repeating him He's Not My Cas.

He can't believe Dean wants to kill him.

He vanished, and Dean's hopes to defeat him too. Even with Death giving them another plan... Dean is devastated.

Sam still believes in Cas

Then Dean is drinking, because he lost any hopes, but Sam, He's trying hard. He still believes in Cas, he has hopes, so he prays to him...

SAM: Hey, Castiel. Um... Maybe this is pointless. Look... I don't know if any part of you even cares, but, um, I still think you're one of us, deep down. I mean, way, way, way off the reservation, but... Look, we still have till dawn to stop this. Let us help. Please.

Sam believed Cas is still there, his part of the Team Free Will. And he had right there.

Castiel came back to his senses when he gets possesed by the Leviathans he carried inside of him. He lost control and kills innocent people. That's what makes Cas coming back. His vessel is very damaged, but he listened Sammy's prayers... And he went to him.

Dean is there too, look at his worried face, looking at Cas in that shape, and the camera focused on him immediately after showing us Cas. Is because his reaction is more important than Sammy's. But Cas was answering Sammy's prayers, so he named just Sam. Because Sam still believes in him. And Castiel asks for help.

There was not time

When they were about to re open the doorway to Purgatory, Castiel is ashamed and he wants to ask for forgiveness, but there's not time.

CASTIEL: If there was time, if I was strong enough, I'd -- I'd fix him now. I just wanted to make amends before I die.

DEAN: Okay.

CASTIEL: Is it working?

DEAN: Does it make you feel better?

CASTIEL: No. You?

DEAN: Not a bit.

A huge thing like this doesn't fix in seconds, or minutes. It requires time to talk. But they didn't have that. Cas was trying to use the few seconds he knew he had to give a good end to that. He knew he was about to die. So he tried hard, but human's feelings are not that easy to fix. Even Cas was experimenting those human's feelings too.

When they opened the gate, and Cas was about to expell the would into the Purgatory, he gave what they thought was one last look at Dean... And he said it...

With such sorrowful face, Dean echoing the sadness in his face too. A painful ending? Not... There will be more ...

Castiel's Death

Cas fell to the ground, and Dean is terrified.

DEAN: Cas?

BOBBY: He's cold.

DEAN: Is he breathing?

BOBBY: No.

Okay, this is Dean denying Castiel is dead. Bobby said HE'S COLD, and Dean was like is he breathing? And when Bobby said he didn't, Dean went with that excuse... And Bobby had to be more specific. Cas is gone.

And Dean breaks in anger again... But not for so long... Because CAS wakes up.

DEAN: Damn it. Cas, you child. Why didn't you listen to me? Cas?! Hey! Hey! Okay. All right.

The reproaches again

CASTIEL: That was unpleasant.

And again, for a few seconds before the Leviathans take control over Castiel's vessel, he tries to enmend things with Dean. Is the only thing he had in his head an heart.

CASTIEL: I'm ashamed. I really overreached.

DEAN: You think?

CASTIEL: I'm gonna find some way to redeem myself to you.

(And he will by the end of this season 😏)

DEAN: All right, well, one thing at a time. Come on. Let's get you out of here. Come on.

Dean is not saying he won't forgive him. He just need him to be safe. He died and now he's back. He knows they can fix things... But is sad... Because the Leviathans made his entrance right in that moment.

In episode 7x02 Hello Cruel world, Castiel dies.

We had Cas dying in that river... And the scene with Dean taking his trenchcoat. He lost Cas again. This time for real.

He breaks...

And Bobby tries to comfort him, as he will do through the whole season...

DEAN: Okay. So he’s gone.

The sadness in Dean's face is huge.

BOBBY: Well, he was friends with us, wasn’t he? Can’t get much dumber than that.

After this, Sam and Bobby are worried about Dean, and Bobby tries to talk with him, but Dean avoids the topic faking he's ok, as always.

DEAN: (...) I’m not Sam, okay? I keep my marbles in a lead friggin' box. I’m fine. Really.

BOBBY Of course. Yeah. You just lost one of the best friends you ever had, your brother’s in the bell jar, and Purgatory’s most wanted are surfing the sewer lines, but yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re – you're fine.

Then Sam and Bobby sent Dean to a hunt alone, because they knew he needed some distraction. They knew Dean was grieving, in his weird way to grieve.

We will see Dean drinking a lot of alcohol in the nexts episodes as a scape from his thoughts. This Will be very recurrent in this season.

Mirroring Destiel

I'm gonna talk in this last section about two Destiel mirrors in the following episodes to Castiel death.

One was settled in episode 7x03 The Girl Next Door.

If you recall this episode was Sammy's first love when he was a teenager and he was hunting.

But first of all I want to mention some interesting scene, Dean had a fracture after fighting with one of the strongest Leviathans (Edgard) in Bobby's place. His house was burnt and they thought Bobby was dead (foreshadow of it ofc), but when they were in Rufus's cabin, Dean was watching a Latin novel, and Bobby enters and this was the peculiar dialogue...

DEAN Dude... Ricardo.

BOBBY What happened?

DEAN Suicidio.

BOBBY Adiós, ese.

DEAN looks very moved at what has happened on the screen.

Ok, why would I put this here? There was a woman embracing his dead lover in her arms, crying bc he had committed suicide. And Dean was moved about that.

Lovers separation by death of one of them... Suicide specifically, like Leviathan!Cas killing himself in the river... Do you got the picture here?

And btw Sam goes to the groceries shop, Dean asked pie but. .

DEAN Where's the pie?

SAM I got cake. It's close enough, right?

Okay... Dean ate the cake... If we know the cake represents Dean's queerness and hanger for CAS... 😏

Okay, back to Sam again...

He was hunting a Kitsune, but he fell in love with the Kitsune's daughter.

When her mother discover that she tried to kill little Sammy, but the girl stabbed her in the heart. (Hello Destiel recalling).

She rebelled against her mother and her lore for Sam. (Sounds familiar?)

When Dean discovers Sam didn't finish his job again he decides to kill her.

Because he knows how hard is try to kill the person you're in love with, even when that person becomes a monster... He knows.

So he did it instead Sammy. And he lies to him. That will be one of the topics for the whole Wincest subtext (very blantant this season).

Ok... Jumping now to episode 7x05 Shut up Dr. Phil ...

Remember this one, two witches in love, they were a couple for centuries... They were fighting because Maggie Stark (the witch) thought Don Stark (his husband) was cheating on her (misscomunication) and Sam and Dean get in the middle and they decided to interview. And read what Dean said... People... He's talking about his experience with Castiel here...

DEAN:Look – obviously, you two are capable of wiping each other out, right? But you haven't, huh? Which means that you two – you still value whatever it is you got. A-and you want keep that dance going. Maybe it's – maybe it's punishment. Maybe it's – it's sick, messed-up, erotic, kinky, clamps and feathers kind of love.

What-the-hell!!???? I said to myself... Do I need to add something here? He said fighting is sick, messed up erotic/kinky/feathers and love in the same sentence!

Ok Dean... Tell us more... 🤣🤣🤣

This line was juicy...

To Conclude:

Castiel's death was a huge traumatic experience that leads him to depression and alcoholism, but he pushed that down and avoided it as always.

There was two Destiel mirrors in the two following episodes after Castiel's death reflecting their story and Dean's inner truly and repressed feelings for him.

I hope you enjoy this first meta from season 7! C-u in the next Chronicles!

Tagging @weirddorkylittlediana @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @angelneedshunter @trickster-archangel @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @mishka-the-angel-of-saturday @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @foxyroxe-art @authorsararayne @anonymoustitans @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @wildligia @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-is--endgame @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73

If you want to be tagged in this metas just let me know!

Buenos Aires August 21st 2019 8:48 PM

#destiel chronicles #destiel meta #supernatural meta #vol. xxv #season 7 meta

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unholyhelbig · 4 years

Note

omg haha that was completely my fault for not being specific! especially bc i like the other fic too! if you're considering writing a pt 2 to the one where hope is a surfer you definitely should bc that's my fav ❤️

Read on Ao3 | Send me more Legacies Prompts! | Read Part One Here

[a/n: Thank you so much for the love! As always, writing smut is not my strong suit, so go easy on me!]

Title: Braving the Storm [P2]

Ship: Lizzie Saltzman/ Hope Mikaelson

The warm summer wind curled around Hope Mikaelson’s legs, the thick scent of the sea pulled at every inch of her as she walked along the mostly vacant beachfront. The sky was cloudless and large water-washed rocks sat littered with seaweed drawn in from the storm. She reveled in the silence.

Her board had been broken and her keys were somewhere in the sand. Despite the warnings and her pounding headache, she took to searching the stretch of land helplessly. Palm leaves and different patio furniture that hadn’t been bolted down lay crumpled and broken. She had left Lizzie at the store, had flushed, and walked out because she couldn’t even justify what had happened.

Concussion or not, Hope Mikaelson wasn’t one to have a quick fuck in a stock room an play it off like it was nothing. She liked to have a connection, or at least a decent meal with a woman first. Hell- even a last name would settle the odd feeling in her stomach. But no, it wasn’t her.

She frowned and kicked weakly at a pile of sand that could have been a magnificent castle with a trapped princess and a valiant prince who would have been a woman all along; because only someone with the female sense could rescue a girl from a tower that large. Finding her keys was a long shot.

Hope had fastened a pair of fake lifeguard pants around her waist- the word was misprinted and the color was an abrasive shade of red. She flexed her toes in the wet sand and breathed in the overwhelming scent of rain and her own sweat, shockingly glad that Lizzie had forced her to down that much water. It eased the nausea in her stomach.

The world felt like it was on its edge; everyone still huddled in their homes either too drunk to see the light of day or too concerned with the power lines and rising water to venture past thresholds. She stared at the waves like so could see the clear line where it cut off, watched as rolling darkness hurried away.

“You’re following me now?” Hope didn’t tear her eyes away from the ocean.

“I figured if you dropped out of nowhere, you’d want someone around.” Lizzie grimaced before taking a breath “I don’t know how concussions work.”

Hope chuckled and glanced over; Lizzie looked effortlessly captivating in the sunlight. Her hair caught every turn of the wind and her eyes were bluer than the very waves they stared at. Her nose was red and raw and her expression was tired but content. It matched how Hope felt.

“It’s just a little headache, I’ve had a few.”

Lizzie lifted a perfect brow as if prompting her to continue, to fill the unwavering silence of their Eden.

“Before I started surfing, I skated. God, my mom was furious with the choice but knew there was no talking me out of something I was determined to do. She took me to a skate park and without any training, or practice, I took to it. I fell within seconds and she had to take me to urgent care for some stitches. I had a concussion then, too.”

“You sound like you’re stubborn.”

“The best people are.”

Lizzie smiled, and Hope couldn’t tell if it was more to her, or to the world. Either way, she could feel her palms sweat and her throat tingle. There was an odd pull to Lizzie, one that made her feel like it would be okay to straddle in her a back stock room filled with cheesy t-shirts and multicolored rocks that they bought in bulk.

“I’m not like that,” Hope finally stumbled out.

“Stubborn?”

“No, I’m more stubborn than I’d like to admit. I meant… I’m not someone who plays into that whole surfer stereotype. I don’t just fuck random people because they saved my life, or whatever.” Hope’s cheeks felt hot and she averted her gaze.

Lizzie took a deep breath and turned until she could face Hope entirely, her arms crossed over her chest. “You’re thinking too much. You’re not the only one who got something out of that, you know? Don’t run yourself ragged over something silly.”

“Like morals?”

“Well, I suppose it depends on who you ask, but yes.”

Hope shoved her hands into the pockets of the cheap sweatpants and sighed “it doesn’t bother you in the slightest that I wouldn’t have given you a second glance if it weren’t for this hurricane and a rainbow umbrella?”

“Oh, should it? People don’t tend to notice a girl behind a counter when all they sell is novelty items. Why would someone who lives here have any reason to buy another shirt with the state they live in, embroidered on the breast?”

Hope weighed her options and her outlying guilt. Lizzie had a point- when she first moved here she was captivated by the glass-plated buildings and what they had to offer; the towels that were screen printed with images of sunsets, the key chains flashing with the most common names, and whatever neon toy was on the market.

“So, just sex?” She sounded out.

“Just sex, if that’s something you’re interested in.”

She pursed her lips and turned back to the waves, watching as they pulled a generous amount back out to sea. Hope had never had an offer like this laid out on the table, not so bluntly, anyway. There had been hookups and long term relationships. But never something just focused on the end goal of pleasure.

“Okay,” her voice was slight “Yeah, we can do that.”

Lizzie nodded, seemingly satisfied with herself, before turning and walking back towards the boardwalk. Hope hated the fact that she watched the entire way, and felt an odd type of ache in the bit of her stomach. But maybe that had something to do with the fact that she couldn’t find her keys.

It took two weeks for their small town to feel normal again. The stores had pried wet wood from windows and piled sandbags in sheds instead of at the edges of doors. Hope had been careful and calculated when it came to every visit to the beach after that.

She couldn’t deny the pull it had on her. She had gotten a new board and fished deep in her junk drawer until she found the spare key to the jeep. The beaches were full again and the waves towered enough to get some good days in- and still, Hope couldn’t bring herself to step foot through the doors of the small novelty shop.

She struggled to peel the wet suit from her skin, releasing the top zipper as her bare feet burned against the asphalt. She ignored the wandering stares around her, and the cooks behind the nearest restaurant as they puffed in smoke before slowly letting it fill the air.

Hope moved the rest of the wetsuit down and threw it in her trunk, feeling the stifling summer air against her mostly bare skin. She started to dig helplessly through her backseat in search of a large t-shirt or even a pair of pants.

“I can’t say I’m not enjoying the view.”

She straightened out, a flash of anger moving through her. Hope dug her nails into her palm and turned to face the culprit “Would you still enjoy the view if I- oh,”

Lizzie had a smug smile on her face, and Hope cursed herself for feeling that familiar rush of heat. “I haven’t seen you in a while. You’re not rethinking our deal, are you?”

“No, of course not, I’ve just been a little tied up is all.” Hope spoke too fast for her own good and Lizzie was quick to take notice, but nice enough not to say anything in the first place. She knew her cheeks were a soft pink but chalked it up to the sun that beat against them.

The blonde leaned forward, she smelled like sunscreen “How’s your head?”

“It’s fine.” Hope lifted an eyebrow cautiously “Oh, um, I mean- it still kind of hurts. Maybe you could get a better look at it… in my car.”

Lizzie schooled her stance and her smile twinkled as if she was just given an invitation for a massive masquerade ball complete with freshly clipped roses and fancy platters of food. Not the backseat of a used Jeep that had a healthy coating of sand on the floor.

Hope opened the door further, like a real gentleman and watched carefully as Lizzie climbed in before doing the same herself. And she hadn’t really thought this all the way through- because the riskiest place she had ever had sex was a few weeks back in the middle of a category five.

Now they were in the back corner of a parking lot that was surrounded by a weather-washed fence and the backs of a few shops. She suddenly felt like she was exposing more than Lizzie was- still in her work uniform of jean shorts and a t-shirt while Hope sported a black bikini, showing the full expanse of her stomach, arms, and legs. Lizzie traced every inch while Hope leaned forward and locked the doors.

“Your car is nice,” Lizzie managed

“It’s a piece of junk, but thank you for trying.”

“Come here.”

Hope allowed herself to be guided to Lizzie’s side of the car by the top strap of her suit. It hadn’t been hard enough to unloop it, but she was effectively in Lizzie’s lap, a tongue running over the roof of her mouth in a matter of seconds. She wasn’t sure which one of them moaned first, but it lit a fire deep that ran deep against her skin as Lizzie’s hands wandered.

Hope bit down softly on Lizzie’s lower lip before running her tongue over it and moving her touch to Lizzie’s jaw. “I’m in charge this time,” She spoke in a low snarl.

“And what makes you figure that?”

She moved to Lizzie’s pulse point, feeling it quicken under her lips “My shitty car, my rules.”

Hope didn’t’ hear a further objection, just a small whimper of pleasure as she looped her fingers around the bottom of Lizzie’s shirt and pulled it over her head. Hope hadn’t been one to take control before- the nerves of starting a relationship, or lack thereof, like this was teeming at the back of her mind. But not when Lizzie was under her like this. Exposed.

She unhooked the latch of her bra, throwing the flimsy fabric into the backseat with her wetsuit. Hope could feel her own heart rate rise as she got a good look at Lizzie; the way her skin seemed soft, breasts flawless in the early evening lights. She knew in that moment that she wanted to watch Lizzie unravel completely. She wanted to be the cause of it.

Hope kissed softly down Lizzie’s chest, nipping tenderly, her stomach heaving up and down with hot breath. “Stop teasing.” She hummed through clenched teeth, fingers digging into the leather seats.

The button to Lizzie’s pants were easily undone, and she eagerly lifted from the seat long enough for Hope to slide the shorts down to her ankles before they were discarded entirely among the sandy floors. Hope lowered herself, even more, running her nails against Lizzie’s sides.

“You know,” She spoke against Lizzie’s thigh, biting down soft enough to elicit a moan of pleasure, “I thought this idea of yours was pretty crazy.”

“Uh huh,”

Lizzie wasn’t listening, and Hope knew that. She was trying to scoot down the seat to bring Hope’s mouth closer. But the shorter girl had a good hold on each of her legs, moving just a bit closer to her sex.

“It’s starting to grow on me a little bit.” Hope ran her tongue over the little bite mark she had left on the inside of Lizzie’s thigh “Unless my priorities are all out of wack.”

“Hope, don’t take this the wrong way.” Lizzie moved her hand from the seat to the girl's chin, pulling her gaze up until blue met a deeper hue of cobalt. “I don’t care about your priorities unless one of them is screaming at you to get on with it, and fuck me.”

She blew out a puff of air and smiled “Message received.”

Hope returned back to her task, pushing Lizzie’s legs further apart before shifting the strip of wet fabric to the side. She breathed in the scent of lavender before running her tongue over Lizzie’s slit, just barely tasting her. The girl writhed beneath her and let out a shuddered breath at the quick contact.

She had reveled in the fact that Lizzie hated to be teased, ghosting her lips over her clit, hot and heavy. Hope knew what she was doing, knew how to trace little patterns, and suck with just the right amount of pressure until Lizzie shook under her touch. She dug her hand into Auburn locks.

“Keep going,” Lizzie husked, clenching her eyes shut to avoid staring at the fuzzy gray ceiling.

Hope followed the command, changing her pace as she ran her tongue over the small bundle of nerves in a steady rhythm until she felt Lizzie’s body fall rigid. Her own hair being pulled as Lizzie bit down hard enough on her bottom lip to draw blood, to keep from screaming loud enough to catch the attention of anyone who happened to be in the parking lot.

Her chest heaved, her mouth dry as Hope pulled away and moved her thumb against the corner of her lip, a satisfied grin on her face. Lizzie was coated in an even sheen of sweat, her fingers grasping at her t-shirt. She pulled it over her head, finally catching her bearings.

“I might like you better when you’re not talking.” She sniffed, sitting up as she reached for her shorts.

“Thank you, I think?” Hope pushed herself onto the back seat, moving her hands against her knees to brush off the rest of the sand. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I meant it as one. But maybe next time, can we do this somewhere that isn’t your car?” Lizzie moved an old energy drink can from where her back had been resting. “Not that this isn’t great, or anything.”

Hope scoffed and pulled that random shirt that she finally found over her head. Her skin was hot and the sand was scratching close to her skin. But it was better than the sudden blush that bloomed against her skin.

She smiled. “Message received.”

#lizzie saltzman #hope mikaelson #hizzie #hizzie fanfiction #Hizzie fanfic #Legacies #legacies fanfic #legacies fanfiction #lizzie x hope #hope x lizzie

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dar-manda-rjct · 5 years

Text

Baby? (Pilot)

Summary: Sam and Dean find out that the Impala isn't how they left it. What the hell happened??

Warnings: (i rushed so it's pretty sloppy ma bad) confused baby dean uwu, skeptical and sassy Sam, cussing, HUMAN!IMPALA (i think that's it?¿)

Word count: +1300 idk

i hope you like it (i named it pilot bc this might flop lol love that for me)

Sam and Dean were on a case. They were posing as feds to find clues to a teenage girls death outside of the town. All signs pointed to vamps. They wanted to gonna go get some grub after talking it out with the parents.

"I don't know Dean, this isn't tying together so well, maybe we skipped something?" Sam called after his older brother.

They were heading back to the alley where they parked Baby, Dean was nodding back to Sam while he jabbered on, pretending to care when he actually wanted to bounce this place and get some food.

Dean pulled the keys out of his pocket and turned the corner where they parked the Impala. Where it should be parked.

Dean's pulse quickened. Sam sensed his fear and anger from five feet away.

"Where the hell is my car!" Sam winced, "Deep breaths Dean." Dean whipped around his face pale from being on the edge of passing out, "Shut up Sam!"

A figure rose from behind the dumpster. It was a woman. Her dark skin was bare, she didn't have any clothes on her, Dean spun around on his heels to look away from her naked figure Sam spoke up to her,

"Woah miss you should be-" his voice faded in pure awe.

Dean felt arms wrap around his waist, he lifted his arms and curled his lip in disgust flailing his arms around, "Off, off, off!"

Please help me Dean." He looked back down at her, her golden eyes glaring back at him, they looked familiar but he couldn't place it.

He realized she knew his name. He didn't tell anyone in town his name, he was posing as a federal agent and should be addressed as Agent Morris.

Dean put his hand over where his gun was tucked in his belt, Sam did the same when Dean flickered his uneasy gaze to him.

"How do you know my name?"

The woman's eyebrows furrowed, "You won't believe me, you hunt weird shit like me, but Dean-" Her words were cut off and the wind was knocked out of her lungs as he rammed her into the brick wall, he checked her mouth for any signs of her being a vamp before snarling at her,

"Who the hell are you! How do you know who I am and what I do?" His voice rose and he had his gun out pressing the cold steel to her temple.

The woman didn't flinch she reached into his soul through his eyes with her fiery gaze taking him aback and took the opportunity to shove Dean off of herself and grab a rusty bar that lay next to her.

"I'm your car Dean! I'm Baby! I woke up here and I have legs, I have fucking legs!" Dean stepped off and looked at her chest, his and Sam's initials were carved into it, deep scars. "Bullshit!" Dean said harsher, he disarmed her and thrusted her body into the wall again.

"Baby?" Sam said with a tang of sass. Baby turned to look at him, "Yes!" she brought her arms up in submission "That's what I've been trying to tell you."

Dean glared at her, observing her markings. She showed him the white devil's trap tattoo that was just above her back dimples like the one that was in the trunk, the scars from every crash she endured, mostly on her back and face.

Everything.

Dean's car was human. Why? Who the hell knows.

Sam was the one to break the silence, "Well if you're Baby then where are all the weapons?" She looked at him with a raised brow and then caught onto what he was saying. taking their hands and leading them to where she was hiding earlier.

Behind the dumpster was the mass of guns, holy water, rosaries, knives, machetes, ammunition, and of course, grenade launcher. The duffel bags, cassettes, beer cooler, cases, cellphones, and wads of cash were there too.

Sam stepped closer to her his hazel eyes burning holes into her, "Alright then tell us something only our car would know."

Baby cackled, "I know how much people you slept with in my backseat, that you put legos into my vents, the army men, the amount of heads you've stored in the cooler that was in my backseat, the bodies you stored in the trunk."

She chuckled before the next confession, "When you kidnapped Crowley and put him in the trunk he would hum "Sweet Caroline" to himself. Good times."

She looked at Dean with an evil smirk, "Oh and that you and Cas-" Dean intervened , "OKAAY that'll do." Sam shrugged and pulled Dean to the side, "I mean I believe her."

Dean squinted at him, "What part made you believe her?" Sam raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips, looking at Dean. Dean caught on, "Shut up bitch."

Sam and Dean turned back to Baby, "Okay, we believe you, but try anything we will kill you," Baby smiled

"But before we go anywhere you will put on some clothes." Dean waved his finger at her like a scolding parent,

Baby cringed not liking that tone one bit, "Thanks?"

Baby continued to put on one of Sam's red flannel shirts and jeans, they were long, she cut the pant cuffs with a machete and fixed the pants to fit her hips with one if their belts. She took Dean's combat boots and socks and slipped them on.

She walked from behind the dumpster and did a little strut. "Eh? I look good." Sam giggled, "You look like me."

She fumed, "And I still look like a better lumberjack, shut your hole."

Sam, Dean, and Baby rented a car for the time being, considering their main ride had it's own two legs.

The three got back to the motel after getting some food. Baby likes cheeseburgers and fries, a lot. Dean insisted it be her first real meal.

"I love food." She said through a mouthful, the flannel sleeves sunk to her elbows when her hands were angled up because the shirt was so big. "We'll have to go find you some clothes soon." Sam observed her after taking a swig of his beer. Pretty soon Baby would want to try some beer too.

Baby was a fine looking as a human just as she was when she was a car. A few scars, sigil tattoos here and there, but she had the same golden eyes the car's headlights had, dark skin with barely visible freckles and short, dark afro that pulled her little 60s look together.

She had an hourglass figure which was hidden by Sam's clothes, she was about 5'7 and quite muscular, not to mention resourceful.

Even still, she looked as if she just came back from the 60s, it was strange; and they hunt monsters for a living.

"So what now?" Baby leaned into Sam to get his attention away from the computer. Sam looked at Dean, his eye brows furrowed, "Should we let her take this case with us?"

Baby looked at Sam, her gold eyes narrowing questioningly then flickering it over to Dean, curling her lips in a smile and winking, "I think you know the answer Dean-o." Dean looked up at her and chuckled, "Hell no."

Her face got a sarcastic look, "Too bad grasshopper, I'm tagging along. I tag along when I'm a car don't I?"

Dean gave her the Winchester bitch-face, "It's different now, I don't think you even know how limbs work."

Baby frowned, "You'll teach me then, or Sam will." Dean got tired of her stubborn determination, "Fine."

Baby smiled satisfied. "We'll leave in the morning then, get some clothes for Baby, teach her how to use her limbs and then continue on our way it's getting late anyway." Dean announced.

They went to bed early, around 12, Dean didn't sleep much. How could he? His car was asleep in the same bed as him. This job couldn't possibly get any weirder.

Could it?

#human!impala #sam winchester #dean winchester #baby #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #confused #spn fic #spnfandom #spn fanfic #spn fandom #spn family #family #cars #castiel #misha collins #jensen and misha #vampire #hunter

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