Tumgik
#where i make it way better in part by not killing mary
restlesshush · 2 years
Text
People talk about how refridging Mary to make Dean want to kill Jack in the soulless Jack arc was a really shitty thing to do, and it was, but the thing is I don’t think that’s even quite what happened, writing-decision-wise. Refridging Mary is not only not necessary for the soulless Jack arc to work, it also actively makes it less effective as a storyline, specifically in ways that seem to clash with what was otherwise being set up. Which makes it look like they didn’t kill her to serve their plot, given they actively made their story worse by writing her out.
(Edit: I’m not going to speculate as to what was going on with Sam Smith because I don’t know, but approx 1400 words under the cut about what I think was happening writing-wise)
Anyway so this is all based on an initial theory from @autisticandroids (who also asked me to write this post, hi!) that the way Mary’s death was handled makes it look like the sort of character death that happens because of an actor having to be written out, rather than one the writers really wanted to do otherwise. And once you’re primed to be thinking about this, 14x18 especially does really come off as the show scrambling to try and make her death hit, which is sort of the opposite of what fridgings are for – they’re normally thought of as being a low-effort way to pack an emotional punch. But because we’ve kind of barely seen her all season (she’s in less than a third of episodes), and because this is Mary so if we’re going to kill her again it has to hit, they feel compelled to spend time giving us a couple of slightly on the nose flashbacks to try and make sure we care. It’s the sort of work you’d normally do before you kill a character, rather than slightly messily afterwards to try and make their death look worthwhile, which is really how it comes off here.
And the thing is, it’s not just that it’s kind of messy – it doesn’t actually help facilitate the soulless Jack arc at all really, instead it actively distracts from it. Obviously this is true in terms of screen time, because we have to take time away from Jack stuff for the flashbacks and for Mary’s funeral, but also in terms of the story’s focus. The interesting thread here is “someone we care about is ~dangerous now, what might we have to do to stop them??”, which is pretty decently well-trodden ground for spn, which you could easily have done just based on the snake and burning Nick alive on their own. And then in theory, this would all be made extra tragic by the fact that it was Jack saving them from Michael that even put him in that position, but we barely lean into this because we’re so focussed on Sam and especially Dean’s reactions to Mary’s death. Like, that thread does even still gets pulled on a little bit! You have Dumah's “he lost his capacity for good through an act of goodness” – and that’s what’s actually compelling here. But it’s barely touched on really, because if you’re going to kill Mary, that’s what you have to focus on, or at least that’s what the show seems to be convinced of. Nick even explicitly says it in 14x18 – “Buddy, you killed Mary Winchester. You cannot come back from that.” So we get hung up on an accidental death that could easily have just happened while Jack had his soul, instead of the actual implications of Jack’s soullessness beyond that.
Everything with Mary’s death also obviously makes Dean come off less sympathetically (and not in an interesting way), if he’s motivated by revenge, rather than genuine concern about what Jack might do. In part because of the revenge motive, he seems to take a genuine vicious satisfaction in tricking Jack into the box, for example, whereas if it was more a tragic last resort for how to deal with this very difficult situation, it would make for a much more nuanced and interesting situation, that would hit much harder.
And this isn’t the only way in which the restructuring of the arc to accommodate Mary’s death has implications re Dean’s character. It does look like they were setting Jack up as a Dean parallel here, which obviously if he’s killed Mary, it’s hard for him to be in the same way anymore. There’s a really good post somewhere which I’m annoyed I can’t find about how good leaders don’t ask their subordinates to do things they wouldn’t do themselves, and how Dean would do insane things and so thinks it’s reasonable ask his subordinates to do them too. The post explicitly cites Jack in the Box and iirc also Moriah (edit: it was this post and it cites Jack in the Box and Unity) as examples of this, and while it’s a really interesting piece of character analysis, it’s kind of striking when trying to think about writing decisions that 1) this stuff would be strengthened if Jack was still in the category of people Dean could see himself in, which because he’s killed Mary, he can’t be and 2) by drawing the parallels it draws, it also points out that “oh hey! The writers have chosen to put Jack in situations that Dean has also notably been in! What does this tell us?”
Moriah is probably the less strong of the two examples re just the situation, but the thing is that in addition to Dean effectively asking Jack to be prepared to die for the good of the world like he has before, the obvious thematic use of a mechanic like the Equalizer is “by killing this person you are killing yourself not only literally but also figuratively”. Like, something something supernatural and wasted potential goes without saying, but they did presumably come up with that object for a reason, y’know? But then Mary’s death and the revenge motive means that Moriah doesn't come anywhere near to playing like Dean killing himself on two levels even though like… what is the point of that gun otherwise? It almost feels like a fossil from a different story. And then the situation re the Ma’lak box is very similar. @autisticandroids pointed out to me separately a while ago that Jack is becoming Dean in ouroboros – “I am a winchester + eating michael + being destined for the box” – and also that were it not for the vengeance motive things would very much more come across as “oh my god dean’s putting himself in the box”, which y'know would be both hard-hitting and also the sort of thing spn loves to do.
And it’s also what they’ve been setting up! Like, you go from Dean having something dangerous inside him that means he might have to be locked up or killed, to Jack ending up in that position instead, specifically via him fixing Dean’s issue! It's even him specifically who directly argues for killing Dean to protect the world from Michael in 14x02! There’s a lot of groundwork there for them as parallels in s14 which Mary’s death undermines – the season is just structurally way tighter and more thematically resonant if you take it out. Getting rid of Mary’s death and the revenge motive for Dean (leaving a tension between concern about Jack vs concern about the world in its place) also meshes way better with the way they originally set up the stuff with Jack’s soul too, where it’s meant to be a sad thing for him, that he would no longer be himself etc. And like, that’s arguably partly because it’s Yockey handling it and he’s the only writer who cares about Jack, but it is still what was being set up. “Jack died –> the mechanism we used to bring him back allowed him to burn off his soul to be useful –> he’s dangerous as a result of this and oh god we have to do something about it” is way neater and more compelling as a trajectory if you don’t throw in “also he accidentally killed our mother and so Dean sort of wants him dead because of that too”. There’s a disconnect between the obvious route to take this story and then end result, and Mary’s death seems to be the thing lying behind it.
So yeah, Mary’s death was a bad writing decision not just because it’s not worth refridging her for the sake of the soulless Jack arc (which it definitely isn’t), but also specifically because it actively makes the soulless Jack arc worse. Obviously misogyny was frequently a driving force behind writing decisions on spn, but it doesn’t look like it was here in the way people seem to assume. It doesn’t look like they were killing a woman in order to serve our story – instead, the story has been actively derailed by them killing a woman. Which does really make it seem like that’s not why they wrote her out.
165 notes · View notes
celaenaeiln · 5 months
Text
Robin Dick Grayson Characterization
I'm not sure how or where this started but there's been a rampant misunderstanding of Dick Grayson as Robin.
For some reason there have been posts upon posts that dick was some kind of angry robin and I don't know where this is coming from because in every single comic Dick is said to be the happy one. It seems to be a Covid craze because such defamation was not even in existance before 2020. Every one of the comics - Justice League, Batman, Detective Comics, Nightwing Comics, Jason's comics, Tim's comics, all of them! Talk about Dick being the happiest of the robins.
Some people say that he wanted to avenge his parents death by killing Tony Zucco. However Dick could never do that. John and Mary raised their son better than that.
Tumblr media
Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight Issue #100
Where do you see a raging blood-soaked boy fanon makes him out to be?
The biggest supporter of happy Dick comes from Alfred so if you're going around claiming Dick was angry, you're literally spitting on his grave because Alfred ADORED Dick. He thought of Dick as the sole reason for Bruce's happiness which made him love Dick even more.
Alfred is Dick's biggest advocator. When Bruce is hesitant in his initial days of Robin - Alfred says
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000
"They will be easier than they ever were for you."
Tumblr media
Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000
"He will see excitement and adventure...and he will help you see it, too."
Tumblr media
Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000
"He's gotten a taste for it, Master Bruce. He has the natural skill and talent. Do you really think you could stop him at this point?"
"He could make you better. He could BE better."
"A hero forged in the LIGHT."
And Dick feels this too.
Tumblr media
Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000
"Then WE help them find the better path. Together."
Tumblr media
Detective Comics (2016) Issue #1000
"Let's show them how to do it right."
Calling Dick an angry robin - that's an insult to Dick, Bruce, and Alfred. It's an insult to who they are as characters and it's an insult to the very creation of robin.
Dick wasn't made for vengeance. He was made for the light.
Dick is the embodiment of hope and a brighter future. He's what people look forward to on their darkest days, their shining light. He's the hero of all heroes that came after him. There is no one like him.
There are tons of comics on Dick's journey as Robin but here's a clear one as to his thoughts before he became Robin.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Robin & Batman Issue #3
Dick wasn't angry. He's was sad, lonely, and scared.
But.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
This good boy doesn't deserve what you call him. This small loving child. Don't you dare push your evil agenda onto him.
Tumblr media
"I don't need to be the next batman. I can be something else. Something better."
Tumblr media
"And you know the best part?"
Tumblr media
"Now I know I don't need to be alone. And I don't have to be the dark."
"I can be the light."
"I can be Robin."
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Batman (1940) Issue #687
Dick was an excitable, brilliant, and over-excelling child. He was a ball of sunshine and happiness who loved laughing, playing games, and being crazy. He was a hypercompetent, crazy child who lived for the love of living and adventure.
It's the loss of the original dynamic duo that Alfred grieves over.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Batman (1940) Issue #687
Just look at this adorable baby!!!
Tumblr media
Batman/Superman (2019) Issue #16
"Hey, Batman! You took down one of 'em and I took down three! I told ya I've been practicing!"
"Good work, Robin."
What the heck you cute adorable baby.
Tumblr media
"Holy--! Is this a warden's office of a museum of horrors? Look at that old rocket ship!"
"Ew. There's a skeleton inside!"
Tumblr media
LOOK AT THAT BABY FACE!! THE PURE ENTHUSIAM IN THE WAY HE TALKS - HE'S JUST A HAPPY BABY BOY!!
Tumblr media
Batman/Superman (2019) Issue #17
IT'S A CRIME TO CALL HIM ANGRY.
Tumblr media
Love this sweet, adorable child.
Another issue with the “Dick Grayson was an angry Robin” take. It’s not just a different perspective, it’s just blatantly wrong.
How wrong?
In order to fight the Batman who laughs, Bruce creates a machine that will emulate the joy of the happiest person he has ever known-who?
Robin Dick Grayson.
Tumblr media
"Happiness is seeing the world though the eyes of children."
Tumblr media
The Batman Who Laughs Issue #4
"Dick was the first robin. He had the happiest eyes. Circus eyes. Weightless - leaping, never falling."
Bruce drives himself insane from the joy he feels by looking at the world through Robin Dick's eyes.
Every comic. In every. single. comic. All of them talk about how Dick was a happy child and a happy robin. Dick's talk about it, Jason's talk about it, Tim's talk about it, the Justice League's talk about it, the Batman's especially - all the batman comics - talk about.
I would've actually added about 50 more panels but I ran out of image space because posts only have a 30 image limit.
I'm not kidding when I say it's IMPOSSIBLE. ABSOLUTELY, INCONCEIVABLY IMPOSSIBLE to say that Dick was angry Robin. Dick, Jason, Bruce, Tim, Damian, Alfred, Barbara, the JL, the titans, the Gotham villains - they all talk about Dick was a symbol of hope, joy, and light to Bruce and Gotham.
Not only that but if you read the comics, you would know that Dick was a happy robin because all the following robins had a cascade effect on their personality based solely on the fact that Dick was a happy robin. Jason's personality was the result of Dick being charcterized as happy, and Tim's personality was based off Dick's being happy.
But you know what the biggest piece of evidence against this blasphemy that Dick was angry robin is?
Tumblr media
Secret Origins (2014) Issue #8
"...Becoming a much needed FOIL to the batman, whose own grim obsession with revenge could easily have caused him to cross the line..."
Explain something to me. It canonically states the Dick was a foil to Bruce Wayne who used to be revenge obsessed and grim. A foil in literature means a character who contrasts with another character to highlight the differences between them.
So if Bruce was dark, gloomy, angry, and revenge filled and Dick was the foil, then how on earth is it possible Dick to also be dark, gloomy, angry, and revenge filled?
On top of this impossibility of Dick being angry and full of hatred, can we take a step back for a minute and think about Dick's position in all this? Dick is the very first child hero, the one countless heroes after him look up to because he, Robin, was the embodiment of light and goodness. He single-handedly dragged Bruce out of his pit of self-destruction merely by existing because of his charming and playful demeanor. How, then, is it possible for every single character in the entirety of DCU along with every single writer who has ever written a comic - to be wrong?
Let's be clear. Bruce's personality, is written to be the opposite of Dick's personality. And Dick's personality is the opposite of Bruce's. Furthermore, Jason and Tim's personality were written to be a response to Dick's. There's also Alfred waving a massive banner about how Dick is a literal godsend front and center. So. If you still believe, that Dick was not a happy robin, then you have effectively mischaracterized every single person in the entire batfamily aside from Kate.
Congratulations. It's truly an accomplishment to be so wrong.
So no, Dick was not in fact, ever, the angry robin.
Dick was a happy robin and that is the FOUNDATION of understanding the batfamily.
837 notes · View notes
marycorcaroli · 7 months
Text
zoro and sanji with a reader who is insecure about her scars.
hurt/comfort, my fav boys.
req ♡ : hiii 🥹🩷 i don’t know if you do requests or are accepting them rn but i was wondering if u could write something for sanji and or zoro abt a reader with like scars from fighting or something and reader is insecure about them but they make reader feel better abt it 🥹 love ur blog ur stuff is soooo cute i love it i hope ur having a good day/night!!
mary ♡ : thank you for your request ! ! i enjoyed writing this so much that i even cried a little :( love your scars ! they are part of you and they make you individual 🫂💌 hope you enjoy it ! english is not my first language, i apologize for the mistakes.
rules ; masterlist.
Tumblr media
sanji.
— he knows all about your scars and knows where you got them from. deep down, sanji wishes he could have prevented you from getting them and helped you when you needed his help and he wasn't there, and you could say he blames himself a little.
— he will notice how you look at them every time you look at them and your gaze grows dim, the sparkle in your eyes dims and your shoulders slump more and more with every exhale, you feel so bad about them and sanji is trying to help you, he will do everything in his power so that you can see the beauty in what you have.
— sanji will always be there for you when that moment comes again and you need support, he will be there for you, you don't have to worry, he will never leave you again.
— he wants you to tell him the burden you carry with you to this day, sanji will listen to you carefully, his eyes fixed on you.
"you know, sanji, they're horrible, aren't they? god, they're everywhere, i just can't live with myself because of it...i just h-" you hadn't finished your words before sanji's palms cupped your cheeks and brought them close to your face.
"let me stop you here kitten. please, i want you to know-" sanji's eyes became glassy like he was about to cry, unable to stand the way you hate yourself. "this, this and this — are you and your actions, the way you protected everyone and were brave, your heart is the strongest i've ever met, your soul is the kindest i've ever met. people appreciate you and love you, they know about your scars and they are grateful to you because you saved them and gave them a chance to live, so why don't you give yourself a chance? i'll help you, i'll be there for you, you know i'll never leave you."
— sanji has rarely ever been this sad, usually he doesn't show his emotions at all, but you make him feel so much. you made him a man with a pure soul again and gave him a chance at the love he wanted so badly and that's why he can't stand your sadness.
— he'll kiss every scar you have and say how beautiful they are.
"look, this one? oh, honey, it's so beautiful! i'll kiss it a million times, it makes you look so beautiful and even with it, you're the most beautiful person on this earth."
— he will never let you feel bad about it again, you will get the kindest words in your direction and the brightest smile from sanji, my god he will make you smile no matter what.
zoro.
— oh i think zoro is not good with his words, he is generally silent and not used to expressing his emotions, but the situation with you will not allow him to be silent. you are literally killing yourself around him and he can't do anything? his heart breaks into a thousand pieces when he sees your blank stare and all the pain in them.
— even if you say "it's okay, i'm fine" he will realize that nothing is okay, zoro knows you too well and knows the reason for your heavy sighs.
— he'll start by coming over to you and hugging you as tightly as he can and kissing your temple, trying to convey his warmth and support.
"zoro-"
— before you can say anything else, zoro's lips will join yours and give you the most tender kiss, conveying half of what he couldn't have said. pulling back to breathe a little, zoro will look deep into your eyes, where he always sees his past, present and future, and tell you what he wanted to say a long time ago.
"um, i'm not the best when i need to be, but you are very precious to me and i want you to know how much i love you. remember? you taught me to love myself and to love what i hate. i was alone, but then you came into my life and you saved me, you were the strongest, you came to me and you weren't afraid of anything, i've never met anyone like you before. you went to any lengths to get what you wanted and your scars are proof of that, because you became a leader for everyone, you led people and gave them protection, you were beaten, you fell a lot, but you always got up with your head held high and i love you for that-"
— zoro began to pant in his speech, afraid to say something too much or not to say something.
— he kisses your scars every day and runs his fingers over them, smiling at you with all his teeth so that you realize that your scars are the most beautiful and have a story behind them, you shouldn't be afraid of them or hate them.
— but also zoro will not let anyone else hurt you because of them. he will literally kill those people if they make you cry. yes you are strong but every strong man needs support and he will be yours by doing everything for you, he will go all over the earth and get you what you need if it makes you happy, he is not afraid of anything if it makes your day better.
499 notes · View notes
strang3lov3 · 1 year
Text
Joel Miller, Spider Getter
Joel Miller x Reader
Fluff, no smut
Summary: Joel Miller, harboring quite the crush on Reader, takes his role as protector very seriously, except when it comes to harmless little bugs that threaten his girl.
A/N: We all know Joel to be a ruthless, cold blooded killer, but when it comes to innocent creatures, I like to imagine he shows some mercy LOL. Also, this is my first fic, like ever. I was inspired to start writing by some of my favorite writers @swiftispunk​ and @forever-rogue​ so please be gentle with me! 
Warnings: Spiders! But that’s it, really.
Word Count: 1.6k
Tumblr media
Domesticity is nice after nearly a year on the road with Joel and Ellie. You and Ellie are sitting at the kitchen table in your shared home playing a game of scrabble while Joel cooks dinner. You’ve grown very close with Ellie. In every way, she’s like your little sister. She’s sweet, caring, and a great friend, but she also drives you crazy with her silly jokes and teasing. You wouldn’t want your relationship with her to be any other way.  
Joel is a different story. You’re close, yes, but you have a relationship you can’t quite define. At first, he was quiet and standoffish. Still is, sometimes. But now, after your time spent together, Joel is much warmer and welcoming. Possibly even flirty? Maybe, you’re not sure what it is. He looks after you, wraps his jacket around your shoulders when you’re cold, and walks you to and the different places around Jackson. You’ve asked him why he continues to keep such a close eye on you when you’re all safe and sound in Jackson. Joel, ever the southern gentleman, explained to you that where he’s from, men always make sure to take special care of the women in their lives, no matter where they are. Women, he said, deserve to feel safe and welcomed everywhere they go. He takes his role as your protector very seriously, even though he knows you’re well equipped to take care of yourself. 
Except for one thing. He takes his role as your protector very seriously, except when it comes to bugs. He knows that part of his duties as your closest friend and protector is to take care of the bugs that cross your path, but goddamn if it isn’t the funniest thing to him. You, being the strong, brave, beautiful woman you are, can’t handle a little spider or insect? Now that’s just ridiculous. But, everyone has their weaknesses, right? Indiana Jones, snakes. Superman, kryptonite. Your weakness is bugs, as silly as it may seem. 
Despite the silliness of it all, Joel obliged to take care of bugs and spiders for you. He doesn’t entirely know why he does this silly little favor for you. Does he really need to do this for you? You should be able to handle a little bug or two every now and then. You’re a capable, strong, and smart woman! But all Joel knows is that he hates to see your pretty face upset and afraid, and he wants to be the man to make it all better. So, he’s your spider getter. 
Joel is all too familiar with your arachnophobia. The first time he saw you panicked after seeing a creepy crawling spider, Joel was completely amused. He had known you for a few months at that point, and he knew you well enough to know how brave you are. Clickers, raiders, and the other evil things of this world were nothing to you. But heaven forbid an eensy teensy black spider cross your path while sitting around a fire. So the moment you saw a spider get a little too close to your feet, you frantically sprinted ten feet away while screaming bloody mary.
“Really?” He and Ellie shared an amused look, giggling at your little show.
“Get it!” You commanded him. 
“It’s a harmless little spider, just nudge ‘em away from ya,”
“And get bit? No thanks. Please kill it, please, just, I’m freaking out here,” you begged, your fearful eyes pleading with his own unimpressed ones. You looked to Ellie, “Help me out here?” you asked her. 
“This is way too entertaining. Nope!” Ellie grinned at you, then at Joel. He smiled right back at her as they chuckled at your paralyzing fear.
You let out a deep groan. “Please,” you begged them. “I really fucking hate you guys right now.”
“Jesus, girl. You’re somethin’ else,'' Joel grabbed a nearby leaf and scooped underneath the spider, gently placing it among the trees. “You know, he’s probably more afraid of you than you are of him, the way you were stompin’ all around him. Coulda’ smushed him.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re supposed to smush spiders, Joel. Why didn’t you kill him?” you questioned him, moving back to your place at the fire. “And I am way more afraid of him than he is of me.” You sit back down, pouting at the spot where the spider was before.
“Spiders ain’t done nothin’ wrong. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, now why should he die for that?” He got you there. If you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, you would hope a scary stranger would show you mercy. But this was different. You know spiders are essential to the ecosystem, but they’re creepy and ugly! Why should you care about whether an insect lives or dies? It’s just a bug, after all.
Joel sees the expression on your face, a mixture of disgust and fear. He notices your eyes go blurry as tears form in your waterline and feels a little guilty for teasing you. He moves over to you, offering a comforting squeeze on your shoulder. His deep brown doe eyes and tanned skin are illuminated by the golden light of the fire, and he looks so gorgeous like this. His eyes meet yours as he whispers “It’s alright now, sweetheart. Spider’s back with his spider family, he’ll leave ya alone now,” 
A tear falls from your eye, and Joel understands. He may be bad at dealing with his own feelings, but Joel can be very intuitive to others’ emotions. He knows you’re feeling embarrassed and spooked, so he runs his hand down your arm and to your hand, rubbing gentle circles into your soft skin. “I’ll take care of the spiders for you, don’t you worry,” he promises you. And he kept good on that promise after that night, but never missed an opportunity to tease you a little. 
Ellie picks out three letters to place on the scrabble board. Using an F from a different word, she spells out ‘FUCK’ towards the edge of the board, scoring herself a triple word. “Ha!” she yells, “Fuck, for 39 points!”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re fifteen and you know the word fuck. Ha. ha. ha,” you laughed sarcastically. “My turn now, you little shit.” 
You place your letters on the board, spelling out some mundane word. You count up your points and mark the score on the scorecard. Then, you reach into the letter bag and pull out some more. Feeling something strange in the bag, you hum. “There’s something in there,” you say to Ellie, grabbing the strange item along with your letters. As you pull your hand out of the bag and reveal the strange item, you realize the horror. You drop it and pull your hand away quickly. A big and black spider crawls on the table, and you’re done for. Letting out the most ear piercing shriek man has ever heard, you stumble quickly away from the table, flipping the scrabble board and knocking over your chair. Little wooden letters go flying as you sprint to the other side of the dining room, still screaming. 
Joel turns around immediately and looks over to you, cowering in the corner of the room. “The fuck is the matter with you?” he asks. 
“Joel, my god, get it, get it, get it, PLEASE!” you cry to him.
“Get what?” Joel pretends to be clueless to egg you on, but the mischievous glint in his eye tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. 
“THE FUCKING SPIDER, JOEL!” you wail, shaking your hands and running to the sink. “I fucking touched it!! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” you scrub your hands with soap and water furiously. 
Joel walks over to Ellie at the table as she’s giggling and picking up the pieces of your mess. The spider isn’t crawling around very fast, it seems to be struggling he notices. It’s ugly as sin, but he knows it’s not dangerous. “This lil’ thing?” he asks you.
“Joel, I am not kidding,” you beg. 
“Me neither. Come on, honey. Looks like it’s hurt. You probably smacked him or somethin’,” He squints at the being, observing the way it moves rather exhaustedly. “It can’t hurt you, you know.”
“Who gives a shit?”
“Look, sweetheart,” Joel says to you as he grabs the scrabble dictionary and a glass cup. Your heart flutters and the endearing pet name. He places the cup on top of the spider and gently moves it towards the thin book at the edge of the table. Once he has the spider trapped between the cup and the dictionary, he brings it over to you while smirking. He lifts it up to your eye line and wiggles it towards you. “He ain’t gonna hurt you.” 
“Ugh, gross,” you flinch as he sets it on the counter next to you. You observe the creature a little more closely, that familiar look of disgust settling on your face again. Joel chuckles to himself, and then picking up the book and cup once again, he walks to the door. He opens it, crouches down and moves the spider to the grass. “Off you go,” he whispers to the being.
“Thank you,” you say. 
“It’s no problem, sweetheart,” Joel whispers to you, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple and pulling you in for a hug. “I’ll never let any bug get you ever again, I promise.”
You melt into him, accepting his comforting touch. Joel may be an ass, but you know he doesn’t like to see you in distress. He pulls you in tighter, pressing another kiss to the crown of your head. He loves this, being your source of comfort and safety. He vows to himself that one day he’ll deal with the feelings he has bubbling inside of him for you, but for now he’ll do this. Keep you and Ellie safe and comfortable, and take care of any spider that dares cross you. 
1K notes · View notes
Text
Turmeric or Turmeric? (Prompt)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hi guys!
You can find the request for this one here :) And the prompt here too!
For the context, it was from a TikTok Mary Earps posted a few weeks ago. Mary, Maya and Alessia were supposed to drink an awful thing with turmeric, pepper and others horrible ingredients.
Enjoy!
TW : None, pur fluff.
______________________________________________________________
"We are the hot shot threesome" Mary says happily before getting up to cut the camera on her phone, finishing her TikTok.
"I need some lip balm" Maya says before starting to look for it in her bag.
Alessia, on her side, falls on the bed with a moan of discomfort. Unlike Mary who seems to have enjoyed the content of the "shot" and Maya who drank it in one shot, she had more difficulty drinking it in its entirety. And did it only under the insistence of her teammates, not to kill the fun.
"Is she dead?" Mary asks Maya, laughing.
Smiling softly, Maya leans towards the blonde to pinch her ribs, making her growl while pushing her hand back.
"No, she looks okay" Maya laughs softly
Still with a grimace on her face, Alessia sits back on the bed to grab the bottle of tea and drink new long sips, hoping to pass the horrible taste that remains in her mouth.
"It was awful" says Alessia with a grimace before finally getting up
"It was really not good" confirms Maya, drinking too from the bottle.
"You are babies. I liked it" Mary says
Alessia smiles softly shaking her head. Heading towards the door, she is about to greet her friends when Mary jump from the bed in her turn.
"Where are you going?"
"Find Y/N. Why, you have another horrible challenge to offer me?" teases Alessia.
"No, but I have a better idea" Mary replies with a huge smile that really doesn't announce anything good.
********
"Mary there is no way in the world that I'm doing that to my girlfriend" Alessia frown.
"Come oooon, it could be fun!"
Alessia turns to Maya hoping to get some help, but she just smiles and shrugs. She understands Alessia’s reluctance but on the other hand she cannot help but find Mary’s idea rather amusing.
"Come on Less, all you have to do is find Y/N and kiss her so we can see her reaction"
"But I didn’t even wash my teeth" Alessia whines
"That’s the point" smiled Mary
"She’ll never want to kiss me again after that"
"Oh I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you" laughs Maya gently. "Y/N has been crazy about you for years, long before you opened your eyes to the nature of your respective feelings."
Alessia groan for any answer. Maya is right and she knows it, you have developed a crush for her for years, maybe even since the first time you saw her. But until a year ago, when Alessia’s behavior towards you changed, you were content to live one-way feelings, dating around, hoping to get over the feelings you had for Alessia. It never worked out.
Seeing that Alessia begins to hesitate, Mary leads the attacker into the common room where you are. Sitting on a stool and leaning at the coffee bar, you are in full discussion with Esme when the trio arrives at the entrance of the room.
"But she’s busy! She’s talking to Esme, I don't want to interrupt" Alessia tries, hoping to escape what she was asked.
"For God’s sake, Alessia, go kiss your girlfriend"
Alessia sighs gently and shakes her head before shyly entering the room. Satisfied, Mary grabs her phone to film the scene. She can thus have a perfect vision of Alessia’s hesitant steps in your direction.
For your part, you end up spotting the silhouette of your girlfriend who approaches you. You address her a big smile while still talking to Esme.
Before you really understand what is happening, Alessia finally arrives next to you and positions herself between Esme and you who are face to face on your respective stools. Even sitting, thanks to your seat, your face is almost the same height as Alessia's who is standing.
Alessia gently grabs your face by taking it in her hands and gently raises your chin before putting a kiss on your lips. You blow your nose under surprise, usually you don’t kiss in public. Unlike hugs or gestures of affection, it's not uncommon to see Alessia’s arms around your waist or to see you sleep on the shoulder of the blonde during your trips or movie nights.
Your arm passed around her waist, you look for Alessia's eyes after your kiss that lasts a few seconds and you prepare to question her before frowning. Her lips taste strange, far from the sweet taste they usually have.
"Did you eat something special?" you ask your girlfriend curiously.
But Alessia doesn't have time to answer that Mary’s laughter is heard. Maya appears smiling behind her and both of them approach you, drawing the attention of the other girls in the room.
"What’s going on?" you ask, a little lost.
Alessia informed you that she was going to do a TikTok with Mary and Maya, without really telling you what it was. When Mary throws you one of the bottles they drank and you catch it easily with your free hand.
"Hot shot threesome" Maya grins as you read the ingredients on the bottle with a grimace.
"I’m sorry Baby, they made me do it" Alessia plead, turning a little bit to look at Mary and Maya.
Mary snorts while you look up at Alessia with a little smile. She seems worried about your reaction, which really doesn’t matter. You’re pretty calm by nature, Esme is your best friend and it’s not for nothing.
"Don’t worry" you smile affectionately at her before gently kissing her cheek.
Alessia hums as she tightens against you, briefly pressing her temple against your forehead. You take the opportunity to deposit a new kiss, on the corner of her jaw this time.
You don’t really listen when Mary, Maya and Esme start talking about the drink and spicy food they’ve eaten so far. Alessia sometimes gets involved in the discussion as well. But you, you just watch your girlfriend. You’re obsessed with the blue of her eyes and the different features of her face. You feel your expression soften when she laughs and you pass your second arm around her waist after a few minutes.
It draws Alessia’s attention to look and smile at you, gently kissing your forehead.
God, you are so in love.
When Alessia shifts her attention back to the conversation, you listen to them with a distracted ear. You aren't surprised when Ella comes to mingle in the conversation, but you quickly turn away to admire Alessia. After so many years of trying to reason yourself about your feelings for her, you still can’t believe you can finally consider her "yours".
Unable to resist, you put your lips on her cheek again. Then you slide your lips all the way up to her jaw to finish in the hollow of her neck. You feel Alessia shivering, you know how sensitive she is here. Her hair is loose so no one can see what you just did, but Alessia is giving you a warning look.
"Sorry" you whisper softly before kissing her shoulder this time.
"Not here" whispers Alessia in return, forgetting in turn your teammates. "You can have all the kisses you want when we get back to the room"
"Mh… after you brush your teeth then. You taste weird" you smile maliciously.
"Don't talk about it… I didn’t want to finish, they forced me" Alessia pouts, very aware that she just drew Mary and Maya’s attention to you.
"Oh, really?" you coos, kissing your girlfriend’s cheek again.
"Yes, they were very mean"
"My poor little love" you laugh softly, gently tightening Alessia in your arms.
"You’re so dramatic" Mary sighs.
But Alessia gives her an ironic smile as you continue to hold her protectively against you. The blonde even lets herself go a little against you, standing impossibly close to you. Mary rolls her eyes and throws a ball napkin in your direction.
"Can't you stop two seconds from reminding others how single they are for god's sake?"
395 notes · View notes
hedwig221b · 6 months
Note
Trick or treat!!
Hiiiii! Based on what you usually reblog I think you'd like this piece of a wip
Tumblr media
“I’m just feeling on edge today,” Stiles confessed.
That was one way to put it.
“Let’s figure it out then,” Derek insisted, and Stiles couldn’t help but look up at him. “You have to embrace it. You know it’s the only way for you.”
Fuck, Stiles loved this man so fucking much. His throat was closing up at the sheer determination in Derek’s voice. He was probably the only one who didn’t want “the old Stiles” back. Derek didn’t want to change him. From day one he encouraged Stiles to be at peace with what he was, to explore the new abilities in order to understand and control himself better.
Maybe, that was because he was a born werewolf, who was always told by the humans that there was an “other”, wolfy part of him that he had to tame in order to be “normal”.
But Derek was already normal. He just wasn’t human (fully or half) and that irked people because he looked like one.
Derek was the only one who could understand. Well, he and hunters, but the latter weren’t so nice about it.
“Do you need to vent?” Derek asked. “Scream? Punch someone?”
“I want blood.”
Derek’s mouth closed with a click.
Stiles forced himself to keep looking at Derek because his mate needed to know. If Stiles could demand Derek to be truthful with him, he had to do the same. No matter how horrifying the truth was.
Derek cleared his throat and blinked a couple of times in rapid succession.
“In what way?” His voice betrayed nothing.
Stiles’ heart was beating in his throat, despite him sitting still on the couch. He looked to the side, biting the skin off his upper lip. He was clutching at Derek’s hands in a pitiful attempt to make him stay.
“I don’t want to have, like, a Bloody Mary or anything, but… I have this urge, and it’s been killing me, like a constant headache. I want to—” Stiles stopped to swallow the spit that immediately gathered in his mouth. “Want to tear into something. With my teeth, my hands. To feel their last breath and keep breathing myself.”
Now he was afraid to look at Derek. It was too much. Derek was going to look at him in disgust and fear, lean away and run far to where Stiles would never find him.
“Please,” he begged in a choked voice. “Please, don’t— Don’t leave me. I don’t want you to be afraid of m— Oh, my god, why the fuck are you smiling?"
And it was a full smile, with his usual set of bunny teeth and fangs, breathtaking, wide and feral.
And then Derek said the thing Stiles never thought to hear from him in the light of recent events.
“I’m so glad to have you as my mate.”
“Fucking huh?”
Derek chuckled, rolled his eyes, then smacked a hard passionate kiss on Stiles’ lips and jumped up with athletic ease.
“I’m taking you on a hunt, come on.” The man grabbed his hands and lifted him off the couch, tugging his stunned mate after himself.
“Hunt?”
“Yeah,” another giddy smile, so beautiful Stiles stumbled a bit into his shoulder. “I wanted to take you with me for so long, but since you don’t like running in the forest…”
“When I run in the forest it’s usually because I’m running away from someone, that’s why I despise it,” Stiles said to him absently, still reeling from Derek’s reaction. “You’re… you’re not disturbed? Not even for a little bit? Not feeling any urge to call 911?”
Derek snorted and shook his head.
They finally stopped at the edge of the forest; Derek turned around, gave Stiles the softest excited glance, then cupped his face quickly and kissed him again. Seemed like he just couldn’t keep it inside himself.
“You’re a predator now, Stiles,” the wolf breathed out with an almost proud smile, “like me.”
Stiles soaked up the sunny expression on his mate’s face, and the realization hit him hard and with no warnings. When was the last time Derek was able to experience the thrill of the hunt with someone? He was a fucking wolf, for fuck’s sake. Scott absolutely refused to do it, Allison and Lydia weren’t even worth asking and Isaac was still too weirded out by his own urges.
The last time Derek hunted with someone, just for the fun of it, was probably back when his family was alive.
But now… Now he could share this with Stiles.
“Like you,” said Stiles and smiled back.
126 notes · View notes
possibilistfanfiction · 4 months
Note
I love your butch!Bea AU, so maybe something where Ava is just a silly little guy and Bea is just so done with Avas tomfoolery
‘do you have to be so…’
you grin. ’so what, bea?’
‘it’s just not going to work,’ she says, utterly worn down. it’s fun, though, to be honest, making her huff and roll her eyes and laugh at your antics with no stakes involved.
‘well, how do you know?’
you watch with a fair amount of delight when she goes through, quite passionately, a list of everything known about the halo and its healing capabilities, its protective nature over you and the ones you care for. she’s in a soft, big hoodie and blue socks that are wearing out at the heels — her favorites, so she’s reluctant to part with them, you think — curled up on the edge of the comfortable couch in your living room, a pillow in her lap. she’d gone to the barber yesterday, as she does every three weeks like clockwork now, and her fade is as neat as you’ve ever seen it, the short top, an inch long, perfect for you to run your fingers through, as far as you’re concerned, messy from sleep. her glasses are a little smudged and she’s languishing with her cup of coffee so, even though she could kill a man in less than a second and has been into triathlons (terrible) lately — you are not intimidated or deterred by her in the slightest.
there’s a whoosh of sulfur and then mary and lilith are popping into your house, effectively stopping beatrice’s laundry list of reasons your plan will never work.
‘what’s he trying to do now?’ mary says, headed to the kitchen while lilith settles into her favorite reading chair, seemingly disengaged but you know she’s listening.
beatrice looks pointedly at you. 
‘i’m feeling like doing something impulsive,’ you announce.
‘you? impulsive?’ lilith scoffs — a point for you, though, because she was paying attention. ‘who would’ve thought?’
‘whatever,’ you say, no bite in it. ‘i thought it would be fun to get a piercing, but beatrice is claiming i can’t.’
‘you want to pierce your —‘
she turns red without even saying it. ‘nipples,’ you finish for her, a grin on your face.
‘never mind,’ mary says, walking over to lilith with two cups of coffee. ‘i can’t listen to this. beatrice, text me,’ and then they’re gone.
‘did they just abscond with our mugs?’ 
beatrice sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. ‘what’s this really about?’
‘uh, it would be hot, i think. obviously.’ you roll your eyes. ‘and, like, everyone normal can do all kinds of impulsive shit that i can’t. what if i just really wanted to, like, skydive? or get a face tattoo?’
‘ava,’ she says, undeterred and a little weary. ‘what’s wrong?’
you swallow, the question hitting you square in the chest in a way you didn’t expect. it’s something, to be so seen and understood by someone. ‘nothing is wrong, really, i guess. i don’t know.’ 
she reaches for your hand and you sit next to her, lace your fingers together.
‘i just — with everything going on with my back, i guess i just feel, like…’ 
‘a loss of control?’ she asks, patiently after you’d been quiet for a while. 
you feel yourself let out an honest-to-god whine before you can stop it.
she smiles, a little sad and a little determined — she’s been waiting for this, you’re pretty sure, which is equal parts sweet and annoying. ‘i have an idea that i think might work better than nipple piercings to help you feel better. we can leave tonight even, if you want.’
you perk up and her smile blooms even further. ‘while i do definitely want to hear your idea of impulsivity, i just also need you to know that nipple piercings would be hot.’
she really does consider it. ‘perhaps,’ she offers.
‘i’ll take that as a yes,’ you say. ‘tell me about your idea.’
she sits up a little straighter and explains, hesitant enough at first to gauge your reaction, that she’s been researching adaptive ski and snowboarding programs. 
‘the alps?’ you ask, immediately a little teary.
‘if you’d like.’ she picks at her nail for a moment. ‘i’ve found ones closer to here as well, so wherever you’d like to go, we can go. just say the word.’
‘you really mean that?’
‘of course i do,’ she says, so sure, so steadfast. ‘and, plus, you know i’ll enjoy myself too.’
‘ah, yes, with your double black diamonds. insane.’
‘well, and the aprés ski with you.’
you grin and kiss her cheek. ‘as long as you promise to dance with me.’
‘i’ll do anything you want to make you happy, ava,’ she says, and it hits you in the chest that she means it. she means it, even though you’re mostly full of nonsense half the time, and you like to play pranks on her, and sometimes you get stoned and pester her to watch grace and frankie with you even though she’d been trying to read. she loves you through it all, the worst days, and you love her the same: when her hands shake; when she’s frustrated; when she worries so much about decisions she’s immobilized; when she’s too strict, even now. partnership, you’ve realized, is a practice.
‘switzerland, then?’
she smiles and kisses you. ‘i’ll book everything now.’
‘you have a spreadsheet, don’t you?’
‘of course,’ she says, as if there couldn’t be any other option. you laugh and she pulls it up on her laptop — there really are tabs on the sheet for at least six different programs that vary geographically and by difficulty level, and she’s also mapped out places to stay and restaurants you might enjoy, as well as other local attractions. 
‘this is so extra,’ you tell her, your voice a little shaky and the glance out the side of her eyes telling you, without words, she’s onto you. but it doesn’t matter: she gets everything all set up for tomorrow morning, and it’s there: love greater than this world, laid out in confirmation emails and conditionally formatted columns. ‘maybe we can visit jillian after,’ you say, the alternative being bursting into tears.
beatrice hums, never opposed to the idea of a trip to spain.
‘she could figure out how to pierce my nipples,’ you say, and beatrice groans. it’s the little victories.
102 notes · View notes
Text
Out of Hell
Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Reader, oc x Reader, Melissa x Joe
Warnings: Adoption, sex work, drugs, alcohol,murder, disgusting men, homophobia, hints of molestation, absent fathers, shit fathers, pregnancy, character death, bullying, let me know if I’ve left anything out. Unedited
Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.5 Pt.6
My inspo for Y/n is Maria Brink the lead singer
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I was sixteen, I dreamed for a life too out of reach a life of the white picket fence before I stood on the corner and sold myself to the streets. My mother needed help and I was all she had so that became my life until college, my father was a no good man who touched who he shouldn’t and then he left.
I had already become a mother to a child I couldn’t care for with no choice but to give her up for adoption with the name Maria. The hardest decision I would ever have to make and unable to hold her for dear life before she was passed over to parents who could raise my darling.
The world let me go, my mother and I were never the same when I got back from the hospital she had given up on me just as everyone else and just as I would myself. I was only fifteen when Maria was born, I was only sixteen when things took place how was I too know how cruel the world really was?.
Liam was fifteen when his father killed his mother so he turned to drugs for comfort before the drugs took over and he was left alone. His father kicked him out after he came out of the closet and the world seemed to shun him out so he gave up on himself too.
He began sleeping on the very corner I stood almost nightly, that’s where I met him we were just two kids with a bad run at life. He smiled up at me patting the ground beside him “I’m Liam” he introduced “Y/n” I spoke quietly as I took a seat.
That night all we did was sit and talk as people passed by throwing dirty looks our way little did we know how life would turn out. We would meet at the same corner each night and talk we would plan out our lives, I no longer wanted to use myself and he didn’t want to depend on drugs.
Out of Hell we would climb
We would go from club to club for a while chasing an imaginary high we could never achieve always ending up somewhere else. Like doing coke off some womans boobs in a cramped up apartment full of men gazing at us like we weren’t just people.
It took some time before we got there, we both got part time jobs working at a bar for my uncle, I sang ignoring the mens hungry stares. Liam waited the tables staying by my side throughout everything with the kindest smile I had seen.
I’m not sure if we would tell our past so easily
Out of hell we would climb
We both wanted better, more than the bar we wanted to go to college and we worked tirelessly to get there where we met Melissa. I had accidentally bumped into her at the gates causing her to quickly turn our way with a fist ready “I’m sorry” I apologised softly.
Something in her eyes changed as she lowered her fist and smiled “Melissa Schemmenti” she nodded “Y/n Y/l/n and this is Liam Davids” I introduced. “Pretty name for a pretty girl” she flirted with a wink before a guy came towards us wrapping an arm around her shoulders “this is my boyfriend Joe”.
I hated him already with his stupid smirk, Liams hand wrapped around my own while I rested my head on his shoulder. We stood and spoke for a few minutes more before Joe dragged Melissa away with a promise to catch up later.
The redheads eyes never seemed to move from me even when her attention was on her so called boyfriend that was checking every chick that passed by out. He disgusted me in a way I doubt Melissa ever could the way he just existed nauseated me, smug prick.
Melissa’s life hadn’t been kind to her either after her mother passed when she was nineteen her father couldn’t look at her anymore. Her younger sister Kristen-Marie relied on her, Nonna did all she could for her granddaughter’s but Melissa had always been out of reach.
Melissa had never been like the other girls not one for frilly dresses she had been bigger than the other children so she made sure to hide herself. She knew how to throw a ball and to land a punch it became her, she embraced different as much as she could but looking around made her shrink back.
Her differences disgusted her
The people around her didn’t help, children were harsh their words harsher as they cut deep into Melissa’s skin, she couldn’t change who she was but she could hide, she would pretend.
She couldn’t stand the feeling of some guys hands on her body, their lips on hers no she enjoyed women. Beautiful women with soft skin and bright smiles.
“Someone has a crush” Liam sang as we entered my dorm
77 notes · View notes
vestaclinicpod · 4 months
Text
Audio Drama Sunday - 14th Jan ✨
Oh, friends, I have had a shit week but these listens have definitely gone some way to making it bearable. Happy Audio Drama Sunday 🎧
👻 @tellnotalespod oh how I love you and how I have missed you!! It seems that some time has passed since the end of S1 and Leo has OBVIOUSLY made absolutely stellar choices in the meantime. Nothing is better for one’s mental health than isolation and trusting the slimiest creature on god’s green earth. 
🦀 @thesiltverses (37) my beloved Silt Verses have returned with a frankly exceptional HOUR long episode filled with so many things to scream about that I don’t even know where to start. Val’s revelation that extreme power can also be used to bring people joy is VERY interesting indeed. They were never going to be able to control her, but I doubt it even more now. And PAIGE stepping up!! Part of me really wants a Val vs Paige stand off but most of me wants to protect Paige at all costs… I am loving the music choices this episode and the scene with the telephone calls was so good! Also, PLEASE stop foreshadowing Carpenter’s death, I am going ‘lalalalalala I can’t hear you!!’
🧳 I listened to episode 8 of Travelling Light by @monstrousproductions after a night shift and the hazy tiredness only served to make it even more transcendentally beautiful. I adore the blossoming friendships aboard the Tola, especially between the Traveller and Óli 😭🌌
👁️ @malevolentcast (39) I love it when you can *feel* that an episode is gearing up to a season finale, a few little loose strands tied up here and there but one BIG problem looming for the finale. I NEED to remember to not listen to this show when I’m emotionally compromised in any way because I found myself bloody sobbing as Marie was talking about her son. I should know that Malevolent is going to play dirty with my emotions. 
🏛 @the-mistholme-museum ENDLESS okay I don’t want to ruin this for anyone who hasn’t listened yet but !!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!! and !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! let’s go!!!!!!!!!!!
🐬 @patterspod P Files brought creative levity into our lives with the tale of Professor Fantabulum. I’m honestly a huge fan of the idea of creative genius as a torch passed on to the people who you inspire
🌨️ @thewhitevault (5) Oh I just don’t trust this guy at all. . . everything he says is so perfectly plausible that there’s just obviously something wrong with him. My friend pointed out that the family meeting mentioned surveyors . . . . .  Now S has been killed by something . . . . I just adore the way The White Vault slowly ramps up the cosmic kind of horror but you’re so distracted by all the other scary human shit going on that your brain is primed and ready to be terrified by the obviously fictional stuff by the time it happens. It’s such clever writing!! 
❤️‍🔥 The Love Talker (6) Ah, now, Ren…. Just because you *can* do something, doesn’t meant necessarily mean that you should… you feel me? Some of the anatomical descriptions in this episode made me want to vomit a little. It’s so awful, I need to know what happens next!!
🏢 @somewhereohio (S2E5) I’m absolutely living for these scenes with Green and Sterling. Are they squishing my heart into pieces? Yes. Do I feel sick to my stomach thinking about the impossibility of trying to perfect and control the one you love? Yes. Can I have more, please? 
🍾 I finished season 1 of @ameliapodcast and what an absolute DELIGHT that ending was!! What an absolutely masterful raising of the stakes at just the right moment in time to keep the listener absolutely hooked. I hope Tara and Lily come back one day, they were so much fun and I think will be even more fun as free agents! 
🌫️ @souloperatorpod dropped this week and the first episode is very intriguing indeed! I think I need to relisten without any distractions if I want to stand a chance of collecting all the threads of red string I’m going to need for this show! I really love the theme music and am very excited for more! 
♦️ The Grotto continues to be an absolutely WILD delight. I caved and listened to two episodes this week but it’s okay because I still have ep 4 in my back pocket. I love the music, the sound design, the fact that it is literally impossible to work out what the hell is going to happen next. Go listen to The Grotto!! 
Thanks to everyone making art - it makes things better 💓 I’m so excited for @camlannpod next week!!  
70 notes · View notes
concretevampire · 1 year
Text
An Indulgence
arthur morgan x f!reader ꔫ 1k ꔫ drabble/blurb about affection (or lack thereof) and whatnot
A/N: hi everyone, I'm back from the dead! sort of. it's an understatement to say that I've been busy. between exams, finals, and portfolio preparation, I can't seem to catch a break. I would have loved to have something more substantial to post but alas. hope y’all are well!
Tumblr media
Hugs are not something that crosses his mind often. Nor remembers.
But it is no understatement to say that Arthur is touch starved beyond incomprehensible belief. For a long time, the closest thing he’d gotten to a hug in years (decades, he jokes sometimes) were the quick pats left on his back by the various men in the gang; festering marks of unbridled, masculine brotherhood, and nothing more. There’s an odd, silent code between all of them that touch– that love– cannot cross a certain line. 
And if it did, the world would simply collapse because hugs cannot formulate within the constraints of existence. It would break fundamental laws. If gravity no longer clawed at everyones boots and limbs, maybe then Arthur supposes he could share a hug with John. Or Dutch. Or Hosea. Maybe Charles. Sean too. 
When it comes to this, he often envies the affection that women give each other so freely, so often. 
He stares at the way Tilly braids Mary-Beth’s hair, how Abigail lets her fingers linger at the curve of your elbow, or the way you help Karen lay down and rest after a bit too much to drink— even if she’s slapping at your hands. 
He wants this. He yearns for this unbridled affection. Yet then he thinks about the other men in camp and realizes perhaps it’s best that they all keep their emotional distance. 
But Arthur likes hugs. He really does, and he’s not particularly frugal with them. 
The various women he’s saved along the road, each equally shaken and ruined, have wrapped their arms tightly around his chest, sobbing ‘thank you’s and ‘thank God’s into his shirt– and Arthur can never quite find it in himself to spare them of an arm around their shoulders, his hands rubbing soothingly along the space between their shoulder blades. He understands. 
He’s got a corruptive, self-hating need to be a hero. 
Not to forget his troublesome stint with Mary (which never seems to end), and the blink he shared with Eliza. Eliza and Isaac. It seems that beyond hugs, affection comes naturally in Arthur’s life, as rare as it is. This rarity has corroded and cauterized him, because whatever cottonball tidbits plug up his arteries, well, they might as well be non-existent. 
Time has tapped on his forehead diligently, and he’s become whatever sand-ridden, tumbleweed-pushing, gunslinging-outlaw history will immortalize him to be. To an extent, Arthur’s accepted that he’ll be nothing more. That this is his legacy. 
But then there are these moments where he’ll be in camp, standing in front of his small mirror, tilting his chin left and right. Do I need to shave? Maybe trim? And then he’ll feel it. 
Your arms, wrapping comfortably and gently around his middle. Loose enough for him to punch you away and put a bullet in your head if he really wanted to. When he doesn’t do this, you’ll press your cheek harshly to Arthur’s vertebrae, filling that metaphorical chip on his shoulder with the expanse of your lungs. One deep inhale in: mud, tobacco, sweat, sweetgrass, and pine. With your exhale he hears you silently say all sorts of things: I missed you. Did you miss me? How are you? Are you okay? You better be or I’ll kill you. 
It always makes him smile, gently and nearly silent under the thrum of crickets and frogs (you always make sure to embrace him when everyone else is half-asleep) and his hand drops lazily to splay over your own fingers, playing tug-o-war with his shirt. 
And with your deep warmth seeping into the sinew of his back, Arthur will then tangibly remember that he likes hugs; that affection is in fact a part of his day-to-day life. 
Even then, it’s not often that he can truly afford to wrap you up in his arms and press his cheek to your temple, murmuring abstract words quietly as he holds you to his chest. He doesn’t have the time and energy. Actually, it’s more capacity than anything else. He would kiss you if his lips were’t bruised and swollen from a brawl. Hold your hand if his fingers weren’t broken. Hug you if there weren’t a gunshot wound in his shoulder. Fuck you if he had gotten more than four hours of sleep in the past week. 
Arthur’s wealth in physical affection is generally meager. It is both his fault and the world’s. What can he say? He was dealt a poor hand, and like most men, he seldom knows how to play these cards right. 
But you’ve cheated the game. You peaked— perhaps to his discomfort— at his stack of ones and threes and inadvertently handed him your royal flush. Earlier on you probably would have played against him; but he’s blessed to find that you now share a weak real estate worth a pack of cigarettes. He knows this fact more than you. Of course, you’re not impervious to the result of your shared affection but you certainly aren’t aware of the extent to which it envelops him. 
How he adores you, wants to demolish you with gnashing teeth and teary eyes. And simultaneously, Arthur simply wants to wash the clothes you wear and clean the plates you eat from. 
It’s an uncomfortable dichotomy, one that encapsulates the push and pull of Arthur’s psyche that he can’t entirely wrap his own head around. You know about this struggle; he’s hoarsely whispered it to you after returning on week-long excursions on Dutch’s behalf. 
I killed someone, he’ll whisper. They didn’t deserve it. It’s likely they did, because he’s usually a good judge of character, but you have no real way to tell. He’s never quite shaken up per se, but he’s disappointed in himself, oddly enough. He’ll hold your hands tightly with both of his, thumb rubbing numbingingly to your strangely naked ring finger. Fervently, as if his confession will mutate him into the monster of the West’s legends. 
The only real thing you can do to soothe him is by forcing food down his throat and letting him sleep by your side. Let your nails scrape softly against his scalp and cultivate the fields of his dreams. 
So perhaps when things are harsh, harsher than usual, he finds it in himself to seek you out, rather than the other way around. And he’ll clasp one gently ruined palm around your forearm, and press your hearts together. 
188 notes · View notes
moonah-rose · 1 year
Text
"Dutch never cared, Dutch never loved them." No hate if you believe that but, for me, the reason Dutch is so fascinating is because (imo) he did care. Because he did have a heart. Because he wasn't just a monster.
Does that still make him a liar and manipulator? Hell yes. To the point that he himself bought into every bit of bullshit he said. When he says this man who is only eight years younger than him is his son, he believes that. When he says he would give his life for any of his gang in Colter, in the moment he believes that. But acting on what he believes is another story. I think Dutch is an expert at disassociating from reality. What do you mean he "ran away" and left Arthur for death, of course not, he did no such thing - or so he will convince himself as much as the others. What do you mean he didn't have a plan to rescue John from jail, of course he did....He just hadn't thought of it yet and they were only "talking" of hanging him so it's not that big of a deal - again, so he convinces himself. Even years later when John is confronting him, he still deflects with putting it on his son or how he "didn't have a choice." Dutch convinces himself that he has no active role in the awful things that happen to those he cares about. It doesn't mean he wouldn't want to save them...but he just doesn't.
Just like how Mary talks about Arthur being a good man wrestling with a giant, Dutch is wrestling with a coward and the coward wins more as the story progresses. I think this is what is meant more when he tells John that all he ever did, all his life, was fight but he can't fight his own nature, again deflecting the responsibility of his actions. Sure he kills people in terrible ways but the worst sins that weigh on him are his inability to act for those he loves. His failure to save Hosea even though the robbery wasn't his idea he does it still, his failure to do anything but run away when his sons needed saving. He even tries to run from the grief itself when his partner of over twenty years dies and it contributes to his mental instability (see the chess scene like in Lakay, c'mon, dude is clearly not with it).
This isn't me defending Dutch in any way, I just finished a second playthrough and spent every second he was on screen cursing at the tv again. But I do think he was a man who genuinely did believe in his philosophy, who tried to be a better leader to his gang than someone like Colm - a father even - and I do believe he loved Hosea, Arthur, John, Jack, Tilly, Sean, Lenny and maybe some others. The scenes with "the old guard" laughing, fishing and reminiscing seem pointless without there being a real foundation there. The scenes in chapter six where Arthur and Micah are positioned like an angel and devil either side of Dutch as opposed to just Dutch and Micah on the same side all the time, as well as the performance itself, show Dutch being pulled and struggling to decide what is right, he just always picks the wrong one. Dutch's broken reaction to Arthur's final words only make sense if you believe there's a heart in there to be broken, if there's a man inside who is aware - even just partly - that he's done wrong and failed. The only reason he'd have to kill Micah and leave John the money is if there was some part of him that has spent the last seven years being haunted by his actions and wanted to find some way to make up for them. A truly evil, heartless person would have killed John there and then and taken the money. All of this only works if there was love in the first place.
The problem is, and to quote His Dark Materials, love isn't always enough. It's not enough to fight against an obvious mental illness, it's not enough to stop you being a coward and letting those you love suffer for the sake of your own survival. Dutch is obviously a narcissist but narcissists are not incapable of love, it's just their view of the world is very inward, and those that they love are seen as extensions of themselves (often parents with children). The reason Arthur could win his internal struggle is because he was able to see a world beyond his own life and needs; Dutch couldn't, as much as he probably liked to believe he could be capable of doing so even if just to be the hero the gang saw him as. He wanted faith but I don't think he truly had any in himself as much as the rest of the gang did by the final chapter, and with Arthur's death it breaks any last delusions he had about himself, to the point that seven years later he can no longer give a big long speech to justify himself, he just "ain't got much to say no more". If those aren't the words of a broken man then I don't know what is.
(Please don't confuse "broken man" with "poor little meow meow", tumblr, I see you).
280 notes · View notes
hyacinthsdiamonds · 2 years
Text
Reasons I hated the ending;
Inconsistent ooc writing. I don't know who the f was on my screen but that wasn't the Sam or Dean we've grown with for fifteen years.
Plot holes; the vampire mimes??? Where did they come from?? Because John thought Vampires were extinct until Dead Man's Blood and then he's you know dead so when did he have this supposed hunt with these pathetic excuses for a typical monster of the week villain let alone the last ever one?
Jenny. She wasn't even named in her first episode. Not once in fifteen years did one viewer go "I wonder what happened to her". Nostalgia? Most people didn't recognize her. She's only notable for being part of the first wlw and same-sex kiss on the show which was nonconsensual because the other girl forced herself on Jenny and only did it for the amusement of the men watching. There's also interesting points regarding to the show's vilification of queer people in the early seasons as majority of the first queer characters were what the show deemed monsters and were portrayed as predatory or destructive (they literally had Lily accidentally kill her girlfriend by touching her) and if they were "human" they were used as the punchline until Charlie when we actually got good rep and she was eventually butchered. Most queer characters ended up dead, or at least dead from some time. Only four queer characters are even hinted to be alive at the end (we don't know nothing about Charlie 2.0's fate), Kaia and Claire who's reunion and overall ending is left open to interpretation (hinted they're alive as Donna texted Sam which hints the wayward sisters are ok), Max who as far as we are aware is still condemned to go to Hell when he dies and Chuck one of if not the only canon bisexual males in the show was vilified to such a significant degree it doesn't matter that he's still alive. To have Jenny be the character they bring back while ignoring the show's integral queer characters like Charlie or Crowley or Claire or Cas etc is something else when the nonconsensual kiss was what turned her into a vampire.
Of the three female characters we see in the finale none have any connections to the viewers. Jenny the only character we've seen before is killed immediately. Blurry wife literally only exists to provide the womb for Sam to have a son to name after Dean so it doesn't look like he kidnapped a random kid, she's not deemed important enough to be even seen properly. "Sam could've ended up with anymore it's open to interpretation" bullshit because that's clearly a white woman which erases so many interpretations and it is so clearly a cop out. The third is a woman who literally gets silenced at the start of the episode, she gets her tongue cut out. The most we get is a text from Donna and a line about Mary.
Cas' ending. You pulled Chekhov's gun out. The gun had to go off but instead of acknowledging his confession, they refused to allow Dean to voice his feelings, refused to even give Cas a concrete ending. We don't know for an absolute fact if he's in heaven, all we're told is Cas helped. His death is literally bury your gays, an example of out of the closet and into the fire. He deserved better as a main character of twelve years.
Dean's death is problematic as fuck. His death is implied to be a suicide. It's said to be a good thing, him dying, him dying that way. This still fucks me up. He deserved to live. He deserved so much, I see him having some sort of roadhouse like Ellen taking care of wayward children and hunters alike, and having some sort of auto shop like Bobby did. I see him aged and happy. I see Cas beside him as he should be.
Sam's ending is bullshit. It erases fifteen years of character development, of relationships and it makes it all pointless. Sam is forced to lead the life he would've lived had Dean not showed up at his dorm in the pilot. What was the point of any of it? Was Dean just a fifteen year interruption of his brother's real life? His character arc was leading towards a completely different route and they did a full 180 and regressed his character so much. Sam should've become the next Bobby, teaching and helping a new generation of hunters and he should've gotten to keep/use his powers. He should've gotten to pass on Rowena's knowledge to a new generation of witches too and I'll die on both those hills.
EILEEN LEAHY DESERVED FUCKING BETTER. First you kill her by hellhounds. You kill a deaf woman with something she needs to be able to hear in order to have a chance at surviving. Second you bring her back, develop her and Sam's relationship and then you kill her again, don't give Sam a chance to even react to it and then leave her fate unknown and then throw in blurry wife to add insult to injury.
The pacing was so off. Like carry on wayward son plays back to back twice in a weird montage??
The party city wig. It's genuinely laughable. Like that's what the cw went broke over lmfao.
It's hilariously bad for your average monster of the week episode. As a final ever episode, it's like spitting and peeing into the fans drink and forcing them to drink it.
It wasn't for the fans. I know some fans liked it, I disagree with their opinions but respect them BUT it's clear that the episode was the way it was for people who ditched the show earlier on in it's run could tune in and not feel like they missed anything, which for a show with 15 seasons should never have been the case. It was a kick in the face for those who stuck it out from beginning to end
Amara's ending doesn't sit right with me. Like she's just absorbed into Jack? Jack at three is God? Amara should've been God and Jack should've gotten to be a kid on Earth.
Rusty. Nail. Andrew Dabb why did you hate Dean Winchester and Jensen Ackles?
What about Cas' deal with Ruby? What about Rowena and the demons in Hell? What happened to Adam? Everyone Chuck snapped allegedly got brought back (no confirmation on Eileen, Charlie 2.0 or Stevie) but Michael got vaporized in Adam's body so what happened to Adam next? Forgotten again ffs. The vamp mimes are their own plot hole but how did they and Jenny team up? Like what connection did they even have? I could go on forever on forgotten plotlines and blatant plot holes.
John Winchester being in heaven.
Ruining carry on my wayward son. It's literally a jump scare at this point for me
Things I liked about the finale;
The dog
The party city wig for the memes only
771 notes · View notes
stayarmytinyzenmoa-l · 7 months
Text
NCT Spooky Season [Day 1]
The Hill House
Tumblr media
TW: Ghosts Genre: Romance Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x Reader YN Pronouns: Not specified Word Count: 1.3K Prompt: Even in death, they did not part.
[NCT Masterlist] | [NCT Spooky Season Masterlist] | [Tomorrow] [Ao3 Link] | [Wattpad Link]
Notes: Spooky season is officially here! And since I skipped 20 days of NCT for Christmas last year, what the hell, why not do spooky season instead? Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.
Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!
Tumblr media
“Haven’t you guys heard of the ghosts of the house on the hill?” Mary’s voice had a telltale tone. She turns on the flashlight beneath her face and her friends gasp in surprise, two of them holding hands and the other rolling her eyes.
“Don’t be so scared, it’s just a story our parents tell us so we don’t play there, it’s dangerous!” Stacey grumbles.
“Whoa, what story are you talking about?” Mary huffs. “The one I know is so different. I heard they’re a husband and wife!”
“Ghosts are still scary!” Jesse shakes in his spot.
“No, no! We have to see them! They only come out on the full moon! What better than now in October?” The girl grins. Jesse sinks into his seat and Helena covers her eyes.
“No way! Too scary!”
“Let’s go!”
“No!”
~
“My mom is going to kill me,” Jesse holds the flashlight for Mary, who is now trying to pick the lock with a stick she found. Somehow Mary had convinced them all to go to the house on the hill but, shockingly, it didn’t look all that haunted. It just looked like a house. The walls were painted a soft blue with white trimmings, and the dark wood rooftop seemed to be the only thing that would make the home scary. Even the windows all had light curtains on the inside of them.
“Are you sure this place is haunted?” Helena asks.
“Yes, shh!” Mary waves them off. Helena and Stacey stood behind them, waiting with baited breath and soon the lock clicked.
“Got it!” Mary grins.
“Hello?” A voice speaks above them and the four children start screaming. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’s wrong? No need to be afraid!” You bent down to their level. “It’s a bit early to be trick or treating,” you chuckled.
“We’re here to see the ghosts!” Mary exclaims and your eyes widen slightly before your face relaxes into laughter.
“Ghosts, huh? I can’t say I’ve met any since my husband and I have moved in here,” you looked behind you. “Say… did you want to have an investigation?” You nudged your head inside and the kids excitedly nodded. You stood up and opened the door wider so they could run in.
“Ghosts! Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Mary sings. The house, surprisingly, didn’t look haunted at all. Maybe straight out of the past, but definitely not as scary as the adults put it.
“They’re not going to appear if you’re loud like that,” Stacey shakes her head. She looks into the old mirror for a while, watching her friends run around the foyer through it, but shakes her head after a while.
“Maybe they like to hide,” Helena looks under the table, picking up an old newspaper to look between them.
“Hey, where would you look for ghosts?” Jesse turns behind him toward the door, but you weren’t there anymore. A chill rushes down his spine and he runs to catch up with his friends. “I don’t like it here, let’s go!” He tries to tug Mary’s sleeve.
“It’s fine, stop being a baby!” She groans. The four stop in front of an office room, seeing a man seated at the desk. He looks up from his book and adjusts his glasses.
“Now what do we have here?” Jaehyun leans forward on his elbows and the children stay frozen in place. “My partner taking in strays again?” He says with a soft smile.
“Oh, don’t be like that, they’re investigating the ghosts in our house,” you said behind them. The kids turned quickly, with Jesse jumping in his shoes and grabbing onto Stacey.
“Let me go,” she shrugs him off.
“Ghosts? That’s not good, I wouldn’t want them in my home,” Jaehyun shakes his head, now standing at the other side of the kids. “Take your time, then, let me know if you find any,” he says.
“Yeah!” Mary pumps her fist in the air.
“Why I don’t I make you food while you investigate? All that running around is bound to make you all hungry,” you offered.
“Yes, please!” The four smiled.
~
The four stuck together in the home, looking through every nook and cranny and investigating anything that looked suspicious but, still, no ghosts. Maybe a couple of old pictures of you and your husband and a few keepsakes of yours but nothing to indicate ghosts, that’s for sure. And the house still didn’t look haunted either! All the wood was polished and the furniture dusted off, there was no way ghosts could live here at all.
“Golly…” Mary sighed at the dinner table, sadly biting into her sandwich. “No ghosts.”
“I suppose that’s a good thing,” you walked in with your husband and sat at the front of the table. He presses a quick kiss to your hand and a chorus of “Awws” and “Ewws” resounded. “Where did you hear of these ghosts anyway?”
“Our parents,” Stacey shrugs. “But I don’t believe in ghosts.”
“Really?” Jaehyun sounded surprised.
“Nope,” Stacey shakes her head. “But these scaredy cats do,” she looks at her friends.
“Aren’t you going to eat too?” Helena asks quietly. You and Jaehyun look at each other and shake your heads.
“Oh, don’t worry about us, hon, we just ate before you came in,” you nodded. Yours and Jaehyun’s hands were folded on top of each other while the kids conversed. “Say, Mary,” you waited for the girl to look at you.
“Yeah?” She says with the sandwich in her mouth.
“How’s your grandpa?” You ask her, head resting on one hand.
“Grandpa Mark? Oh, he’s good,” she nods.
“And Jesse, how about your grandpa?” Jaehyun asks.
“Grandpa John or Grandpa Leery?” He asks.
“John.”
“I think he’s good, I haven’t visited in a while,” Jesse kicks his legs.
“Oh, and I know your grandmother’s business is doing well, right Helena?” You asked her next and she responded with an exaggerated nod.
“And how about your grandmother, Stacey, is she well?” Jaehyun asks. Stacey narrowed her glance and took a suspicious bite of her sandwich.
“Yeah… she’s fine,” she answers, somehow being the only one to catch onto whatever game you were playing. Then the chimes of a grandfather clock resounded.
“Oh, that late already?” You looked out with window. “You all should go home now, your parents will be worried,” you ushered them to the front door. “Thank you so much for visiting us,” you smiled.
“Yeah! It was really fun! Too bad there’s no ghosts though,” Mary kicks aside a branch on the porch.
“Do come visit again,” Jaehyun says behind you. 
“Aren’t you guys weirded out?” Stacey speaks so that only her friends can hear.
“I think they’re just really nice,” Helena responds.
“What do you mean? We never told them our names!” Stacey nearly shouts. Then they heard the door slam shut. And, out of pure curiosity, Jesse turns around and feels his heart freeze, and his gasp is what caused the other three to turn around.
Behind them, the house was in shambles. The roof had caved in and the windows were shattered, the door was even boarded shut with the words ‘Do Not Enter’ spray painted on it.
But, through the only intact window, they could see you and your husband inside, a fireplace glowed next to you both, and a muted song played while you both seemed to float around the foyer. You both caught their glance and raised a finger to your lips before a gust of wind rustled the tree's leaves over the window, blocking it from view and once it had settled, there was only a dark room inside.
Tumblr media
General Tag List: @stopeatread @bat-shark-repellant @raeincitizen @umbralhelwolf @yangsrose @kazooms @sadcoffeecritic 
NCT Tag List: @cherrylovr @minjiville 
If you want to be added to either tag list or removed just send me a reply to this post, and ask, or a DM and I’ll add you as soon as possible!
61 notes · View notes
according2thelore · 2 months
Note
would kill to see es and ls sam and dean sit around and talk about john winchester lmao
OOF
i mentioned this super briefly in one of the posts but i think this would be such a point of contention for all of them, lol.
if this were S1 sam&dean, sam would see this as such a betrayal from his older self, because LS!Sam&Dean have settled into a lightly critical, fond idea of john. yeah, he was kind of intense, but he protected us. he did the best he could, even if we grew up without certain things. they don't do anything to deconstruct their relationship/the ideals he instilled/his low points. he existed, and he was our father, so he was good.
it's easier to love john from afar.
and ES!Sam, who still carries so much fire and anger towards john for stanford and the childhood that was stolen from him, would see LS!Sam's passive--if not effusively loving, then content--remembrance of john to be a betrayal of the highest order. it's not that ES!Sam never thought they'd forgive john, but the fact that sam seems so beaten down in other aspects too makes him furious. who is this coward that rolls over for dean and dad and the hunt?
if this were S2-3 sam&dean, i think dean would have more to say to his older self. because in S2-3, we see a lot more resentment for john coming out. in the "i was there for sam, he never was, dad was a bastard." scene, the impala-destroying scene, and john telling dean to kill sam, we see ES!Dean has a lot of unresolved fury towards him. to my recall, LS!Dean is still a little more bitter (trying to let adam out of the life/"what did dad do for your birthday?", "he was a great dad" from mary and dean's face after, "i never was [a child]") but he's still very clearly pro-john. we even see ES!Sam soften towards dad in the wake of his death, where ES!Dean is all shards.
a LS!Dean that is complimentary of their father and so far removed from the betrayal of being asked to kill sam would terrify ES!Dean. this almost loving complacency to what--to ES!Dean--is the worst thing he's ever been asked to do, and in the lead-up to his deal coming due (bc dad, in some part, failed them), would be a betrayal of what dean stands for. he understand the kneejerk reaction to defend and love dad, but it still irks him.
they would view the phrase "he did his best" VERY DIFFERENTLY.
ES!Sam/Dean would maybe even see it as a lie. dad could have done more. he could've talked to sam and dean about anything. he could've prepared them better, he could've been more transparent, less punitive, less angry, less goddamn drunk. "dad did his best," is wrong. he forced dean into a boy's home because he stole food. he died before he could apologize for any of it, and gave dean the biggest burden of his life.
LS!Sam&Dean would see it as the truth. dad wasn't perfect, and sometimes he wasn't good, but he really did his best. he wasn't capable of more. he was punitive, and occasionally cruel, and didn't do anything for their birthdays or christmas. but it was literally the best he was capable of. was john "a perfect father?" no. but they've grown the perspective to see that he was really trying. i mean, he kept sam's soccer trophies, and he loved them. but he was a man obsessed, and there's only so much he's capable of.
i think that conversation between LS!Sam&Dean and ES!Sam&Dean could go a lot of different ways. i think it would be tense and VERY defensive. and LS!Sam&Dean might've gotten protective over john's memory as the years have gone by, so this open hostility from their younger selves chafes. it's easier to love a dead man, after all.
YIKES this got away from me lol!
but you're so right, anon!!!! this ask makes me wild! this is just my perspective on how the boys see john as the seasons go on, you're totally valid in your own! but YES!!!! i think this is a topic they'd have to navigate very carefully, which is not ES!Sam's, LS!Sam's, ES!Dean's, or LS!Dean's speciality, lmao.
thank you for this lovely ask anon! i am kissin u on both cheeks!!!!!! <3
-lizzy
24 notes · View notes
Text
DANDELIONS - dandy mott x fem!reader (fluff/smut)
CW: slight smut mentions, killing & blood references
SUMMARY: you and dandy barely get time to go places together. most likely because he’s either distracted by something or the temptation of taking another life right there and then is pestering him. so, you thoroughly enjoy certain days where you both just have a little picnic somewhere peaceful and spend time with one another.
Tumblr media
“Ah,” You breathed. “Now isn’t this wonderful.”
You were sat on top of a blanket placed on the fresh green grass within the grounds of the park you and your beloved boyfriend were having a time of relaxation on.
It was another beautiful summer’s day. The sky was that breathtaking blue colour, and the heat from the sun radiating onto your skin, oh.. it was tremendous.
All the birds were singing with glee as you took the time to admire this wonderful sight. Dandy however, was resting his eyes whilst laying down with his head in your lap. He practically purred each time you stroked or played with his hair. He too was enjoying this warm weather. Jupiter could go from sunny to having rain pooling down from the sky within seconds, so everyone knew better than to take advantage of the weather forecast.
“What time is it?” Dandy asked, smirking smugly to himself as you continued to stroke his hair.
You looked at your watch. “Only quarter past twelve. We’ve still got plenty of time until we should return home.”
“Good. I like it out here.” Your lover beamed.
You giggled and took a bite out of one of the juicy strawberries the maid decided to pack for you when you’d asked she prepare a picnic.
“Do we have any of those fudge bites left?” Dandy said.
“No,” You replied. “You ate them all already.”
Dandy groaned. “Aww..”
You tutted jokingly. “Don’t spoil the fun just yet.”
Without hesitation, you plopped one of the strawberries into his mouth. He hummed in satisfaction and sat himself up.
“Don’t you think we should do this more often?” Dandy wondered, gulping down another apple juice carton.
“Well..” You began. “We can. Perhaps if you stop causing your Mother to hire a new maid each time you run the other one out. Or should I say, make them disappear, Mr Magician.”
Dandy scoffed. “They don’t even do anything properly. I spotted multiple bits of missed dust the last time I saw Marie before she finished up for the day. Maybe I should have let Dora last a bit longer..”
You looked away for a second. The aftermath of Dora’s murder was a horrible morning for you all. Even though you knew it was coming sooner or later, seeing her like that was still devastating in a way.
You’d only awoken to the sound of Gloria screaming bloody murder. And after both yourself and Dandy rushed downstairs, that’s when you immediately knew of the latest actions your lover had decided to take part in.
Dora’s bloodied corpse was only the first of many victims Dandy would tragically kill. It was frightening that so many people roamed the streets, taking the lives of the innocent, yet it could go unnoticed for god knows how long.
Finally, you snapped out of your unsatisfying memory.
“I’ll make sure to inform your Mother about Marie’s lack of effort whilst working. Hey! You ate all the strawberries!” You laughed, tackling him. He chuckled along, playfully making his way on top of you.
The laughter came to an end and you looked at each other. You felt your heart flutter as you stared into his sparkling, blue eyes.
His lips met yours and you kissed him with that fiery passion you’d always had since the very first moment you met him.
Dandy’s hand cheekily snuck into you’re panties, and you rolled over giggling again.
“Now, now, this is no place for such immature behaviour.” You said sarcastically, removing his hand from the spot it was just about to touch.
He lay down next to you, yet again lovingly staring into your eyes. It was moments like this where you felt safe with Dandy. You were his. And you were well aware that he’d make sure everyone else knew that.
Dandy loved every bit of you. Every, last bit.
He made you feel pleasure no other man was able to give you the chance to experience. You both relied on each other to satisfy your deepest desires, and that was something that connected the two of you even more than you were already destined to be together.
You suddenly looked to the side and gasped. “Ooo, a dandelion!”
Dandy chuckled sweetly at how adorable you always were when you got excited. He watched as you ripped out the fluffy flower from beneath the grass, holding it out in front of him.
“Come on, make a wish.”
He laughed again as you eagerly egged him on.
Dandy blew on the dandelion, making his wish. Little parts of the flower flew into your hair. Both you and Dandy exchanged a soft smile before laying back down.
“So, what did you wish for?”
“Something I already have. But I want to make sure I keep it forever.” He smirked, booping you on the nose as he kissed your now rosy cheeks.
244 notes · View notes
drunkinchicago · 5 months
Text
coriolanus snow x lucy gray baird
Tumblr media
link: chapter 1, link: chapter 2
Chapter 3: fallen angel
Coriolanus is the name given to a Roman general after his military feats against the Volscians at Corioli. Following his success he seeks to be consul, but his disdain for the plebeians and mutual hostility with the tribunes lead to his banishment from Rome. In exile, he presents himself to the Volscians, then leads them against Rome. After he relents and agrees to a peace with Rome, he is killed by his previous Volscian allies.
In reference to Gnaeus Marcius Coriolanus, (5th century BC)
"The fallen angel becomes a malignant devil. Yet even that enemy of God and man had friends and associates in his desolation; I am alone."
Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
Coriolanus did not revisit the conversation between himself and Dr. Gaul until much later, her words reverberating in his skull as he hung his coat. It’s known that the two of you didn’t sleep together; how distracted you’d be with that little songbird in your bedroom. He walked toward the dining room with his hands shaking. Bedroom. Songbird. Bedroom. Two of you, together. Sleep together. Lucy Gray, God, Lucy Gray.
An array of platters awaited him at the dinner table, each covered with a stainless steel cloche. Coriolanus stared at them blankly, noticing that only one setting was arranged. Tigris must have notified the staff that she would not be present, but then again, she rarely was. Coriolanus wasn’t sure where she spent the majority of her time anymore - he only knew that he was largely by his lonesome in the Snow penthouse. There wasn’t a financial need in Tigris continuing her employment, and she hadn’t a variety of acquaintances to stay with. The most he’d seen of his cousin recently was in the final days of Grandma’am’s life and her funeral, during which Tigris would often descend into nostalgic recollections of their childhood. Coriolanus refused to indulge them, struggling to remember much other than the sound of cockroaches scuttling along the rotting floors. He could tell that her opinion of him changed, and funnily enough, she hardly knew the half of it. Tigris had no way of knowing the reality of Sejanus’ death, and she didn’t ask for details about his life in Twelve. Only once had she asked about the end of his relationship with Lucy Gray, to which he bitterly responded:
“She left me.”
But that’s not the end, Coriolanus reminded himself as he removed the silver lid of the largest plate, revealing roasted duck and an endive salad. Dr. Gaul was going to find her. It was true that the Capitol had been taken with Lucy Gray - the public would be ecstatic at the return of their sweetheart. His sweetheart. There was much more advantage than disadvantage in obtaining her from wherever she was, shivering in a tattered dress. It’d been months since he’d seen her. Was she thinner, if possible? How was she surviving? He almost choked on his duck as he recalled the rage of losing her, eternally possessing a snakebite shaped scar to remind him of his stupidity. That fury was ebbing, though, making way for the notion of understanding - what they had before, they could find again, all the good parts of it. He planned to make her kiss that scar. Kiss it better, Lucy Gray, kiss me there first and everywhere after.
During his meals alone, he liked to remember the Games. Selfishly, Coriolanus found himself missing them dearly. At any time, he knew where she was and who she was with, and greatest of all, she needed him. Lucy Gray yearned for him so much then, her eyes coming to life when he approached her cage at the zoo. He desired nothing more than to be back in those moments of budding attraction, her skirt tearing on the concrete floor as she ate and drank only what he provided her with. With his hand on the enclosure bars and his eyes flickering toward her lips, it was then that he began to visualize what he wanted. He became acutely aware of it when they kissed the first time, feverishly and as though they could eat each other alive. Maybe he wanted to. He couldn’t imagine how good she’d taste.
When he’d given her that white rose at their first meeting, she’d locked eyes with him and opened her mouth wide, placing the petal she’d plucked on her tongue. “Tastes like bedtime,” she’d murmured. He loved that view, towering above her as their height difference permanently allowed. Lucy Gray had looked particularly innocent and intimate then, dirt grazing her soft cheeks, fingers in her mouth. One day he hoped to ask her to recreate that scene, to bathe her himself in rose petals and buttermilk. When she arrived, she would be allowed to have however many roses she wanted. He’d pluck the stems for her, place them behind her ear with his other hand around her neck, bringing her to the edge. That was just one of the many scenarios he envisioned, playing them on a loop.
She wouldn’t be getting the roses at first, though. Coriolanus knew he had to be strong and make her prove herself. Why did you leave me, Lucy Gray? Why did you leave me? He hoped she’d arrive at his doorstep in shackles even though the sight of her in chains had once deeply disquieted him. She had lessons to learn. He’d answer her questions, too, prove himself in the same light. It was going to be difficult not to ravage her. That would be the hardest part, keeping his hands to himself when Lucy Gray was before him. He’d never really gotten the post-Games reunion he’d envisioned, the one interrupted by his Peacekeeper sentencing. If only his cheating hadn’t been discovered! Coriolanus had been practically running through the halls, looking for his tribute, excited to see and feel all the ways she was going to thank him. He wanted it in the Capitol, and that’s how it was supposed to be. Coriolanus Snow and Lucy Gray Baird, winners of the 10th Annual Hunger Games - didn’t they deserve it? It was a moment they’d never be able to retrieve. He was just going to have to invent better.
Although he knew it was well-prepared, everything tasted sour in Coriolanus’ mouth. He tossed the plates to the side, slamming his hands on the table as he stood to signal to the maids that he was finished. They quietly entered the room just as he was leaving it, gathering the untouched feast. He wanted to be in his room - that’s where he could remember her best.
His quarters had been entirely transformed at the hands of the Plinths, resembling the likeness of a castle rather than its prior rat-infested, dilapidated state. Nightly he slept on a grand canopy bed with velvet drapes and silk sheets, sizable enough to fit several people. A hand-painted portrait of himself on his first day of University hung directly parallel to the room’s door, being the first thing anybody saw when they entered. His hair was shorter there than now, combed to one side. He preferred his curls despite their boyish cadence. This was how he looked when Lucy Gray met him after all, his hair falling in front of his face as they kissed. Isn’t that when she fell for him? He wanted to set the scene for her when they would inevitably reunite. Strabo Plinth had pointedly installed a fireplace on one end of the room, a massive one that cast an ominous red glow when lit. “For when Snow gets cold,” Strabo had joked, nudging Coriolanus as though he was actually his father. In response, Coriolanus simply forced a laugh.
Other furnishings in the bedroom included several bookcases equipped with countless historical texts, a dark wood loveseat in one corner, and an impressively sized desk covered with ink pens and writing paper. His brocade curtains allowed for utmost privacy, only a shade lighter than obsidian. They were frame-tall, setting off his curved windows like a picture. When they were open, he could see so much of the city, so much of what he wanted to own and control. The final detail was several imported Persian rugs, placed carefully to cover ancient stains. On occasion, Coriolanus would lay flat against them, welcoming their warmth and carefully woven texture. They were expensive, luxurious, and fit for a king. He couldn’t wait to show them to Lucy Gray, imagining her own body laying against one, her hair fanning out around her face. Perfect.
At least Lucy Gray would never see the penthouse how it used to be, dimly lit and falling in on itself. He wanted her to see him as a true Snow, and get the Snow experience as a result. She was bound to love it, the life of a victor. How could she not? She’d not known something this good, and he was going to show it to her, to what he owned. She’d fit right in with everything else that belonged to him.
As Coriolanus crawled into bed, he wondered how much longer he’d have to sleep in it alone. Dr. Gaul was right. They’d hadn’t slept with another, and it wasn’t because he hadn’t wanted to. Of course he did. He’d had the desire from the second he saw her on television on Reaping Day with her tight corset and doe eyes. There just hadn’t been the right setting for it to take place. Their run of things hadn’t been the easiest after all, but they still found room for kissing, for lots of it, for biting each other’s lips and holding one another’s faces. When he thought back to the sensation of kissing her, Coriolanus realized that he would kill for it. He would commit murder to touch her. Hadn’t he already?
Enjoy the show.
That damn voice, the automated welcome to the arena. It consumed him at night, reminded him of the wanting, the fear, the intensity, the power of it all.
Enjoy the show.
Holding her as they walked into the arena tour, the small intimacies in the dark, moving just as the cameras came into view.
Enjoy the show.
The club in his hand, up, down, up, down, crashing onto Bobbin’s face over and over and over and…
Enjoy the show.
“And last but least, District Twelve girl . . . she belongs to Coriolanus Snow.”
Enjoy the show.
41 notes · View notes