#basically men who will kill you but be on the verge of tears the whole time

[belovedbow]

you were so emotional

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Do you think it'd be possible to rehabilitate Marked Men? If so, how do you think it'd go?

You guys ask such good, interesting questions!

I've been thinking about this one for a bit. Summed up, my answer would be that you could probably rehabilitate them physically enough to remove them from The Divide without them dying, given enough time, but I think that mentally/psychologically they're pretty much gone, so the ethics of doing so are questionable at best.

With the Marked Men, it's established in Lonesome Road that these guys are basically existing in a sort of perpetual "living death" where they consistently have these major traumatic injuries that would otherwise kill them, but they're kept right on the verge of life and consciousness by the insane levels of radiation in The Divide/along the Long 15. They're literally being flayed alive by the high-speed sandy winds kicked up by the storms that plague the area, as in "skin sliced from muscle", and they're constantly getting into skirmishes and tearing strangers (as well as one another) limb-from-limb, which would only result in more injuries.

The root of the issue is that these ghouls are basically radiation-dependent, right? Other ghouls benefit from the presence of radiation (increased healing rate, overall better feeling, energizing effect), but Marked Men need high levels of radiation to even stay alive. Maybe if you slowly, and I mean over a matter of weeks or months, moved further and further down the Long 15 back towards Vegas, really taking your time, you could acclimate them to the lower levels of radiation as well as allow their wounds time to heal enough to no longer be fatal.

But what are the implications for you if you have to remain immersed in all those rads for that long? Who's to say you wouldn't begin to turn into a ghoul yourself? At the very least, you'd be incredibly sick and flying through Rad-X and Radaway at a genuinely concerning rate. And it's not like you can waltz up to one of them and say "Hey, buddy! You wanna come to Vegas with me?" or tell them "I have to leave the canyon for a few days or I'm gonna die from radiation poisoning. Stay here!". They're gonna fight you the whole time and be genuinely quite dangerous when they do it, and the second you turn your back, they'll flee or kill you because they feel instinctually that that's what's best for their self-preservation.

Even if you could get them to a point of medical stabilization, it would by no means be an end to their physical pain (which can literally send you into shock and kill you itself) or the fact that none of them seem to have control of their mental faculties anymore by the time you encounter them. Sure, they demonstrate some minor ability to coordinate themselves, but I see that as more of a "terrified animals desperately defending the fire that saves them all from the dark" than something that teases at more complex thought processes. They don't even use words. Even completely feral ghouls outside of The Divide will sometimes use individual words (granted, those words are things like "Pain!" or "Kill!", but even that conveys some level of ability to understand what they're perceiving and to communicate that; Marked Men don't even have that as far as I recall.)

My theory as to why they would not recover mentally is that, like with the rest of the body, there will simply eventually be pieces of you that can no longer regenerate/heal properly, and they will age and rot as they should, even if ghouls are basically incapable of dying from non-trauma. This would include the grey matter that makes up the brain, and once a certain percentage of it is gone, you will see irreparable changes to that person's demeanor, behavior, and reasoning skills. Marked Men and feral ghouls in general, in my opinion, basically have a form of severe dementia that only occurs in people who survive ghoulification/live longer than the natural human life span.

I think these poor people are tired beyond a level any of us could ever comprehend. I think they're victims of something that should have ended a long, long time ago, and I think all they really know now is fear and pain. In my personal opinion, it's best to quickly and compassionately relieve them of their suffering.

[mystic-shadows42]

Lover's Quarrel

A/N: It’s been awhile since I wrote a piece for the Vikings fandom. Hope I haven’t lost my touch. Hope you all enjoy! Also, this one is a little more focused on Hvitserk rather than Ivar.

Pairing: Hvitserk x reader x Ivar

Warnings: Violence and mention of impregnation

Summary: A betrayal starts it all off making Hvitserk hurt and angry beyond anything else. He wants to shed blood, yours more specifically but Ivar won’t have it. He has other plans for you.

“How can she do this to us?!” Hvitserk stood up making his chair fall behind him in his sudden anger. “We’ve broken bread with her family! She grew up with us!” He paced around the room then stopped. “I love her.”

Hvitserk was trying to make sense of his love’s betrayal. He thought you’d always choose him and his brother Ivar than ever go against them. He was wrong. You chose your family over them.

“We must stick to the plan.”

Ivar brought up his hands and placed them just under his chin. He was deeply saddened by your betrayal but he didn’t want to show his men or Hvitserk just how much it was affecting him.

He needed some time alone to think of a plan to bring you back to him. One that’ll bound you to him forever without making you hate him entirely.

Once the battle ensued, Hvitserk was the first to break free and display the land red. He was fuelled with anger which showed.

When he spotted you out on the battlefield fighting too he was dead-set on what he was to do. Ivar followed his line of sight and knew that Hvitserk wasn’t in the right state of mind to face you just yet.

Hvitserk was about to rush forward but was pushed back by Ivar. They were both high on adrenaline but Hvitserk more so than everyone else. He’d been cutting down men and women left and right.

“I’ll kill her! I’ll do it!” Hvitserk yelled out, making his voice break at the end. 

“No! No you won’t! I can’t let you!”

“She’s betrayed us!”

Ivar brought his head close to Hvitserk’s so he had his full attention.

“If you kill her then you’d never forgive yourself. I’d never forgive you if you do.” Hvitserk huffed at his brother but understood beyond his anger coursing through him. “Brother, look at me. I need you to listen. If you grab her we can take her as our hostage. She’s the key to all of this. Are you with me?”

“Yeah,” Hvitserk huffed.

“Do anything to get to her but don’t kill her. Got it?”

Hvitserk had a newfound intent on pursuing you. He was a man crazed with ambition.

He found your right-hand man and went toe-to-toe with him. He was a skilled warrior but Hvitserk had already configured his flaws.

He had a weak knee so that’s what he struck for. When he was brought down to the ground he wasted no time in finishing him off.

“Y/N!” Hvitserk yelled your name through the endless cries of battles. “Y/N!” He drawled out.

When you heard your name being shouted you turned to see Hvitserk standing on a hilltop by Ivar’s chariot. He held up your longtime friend’s head. He smiled displaying his blood stained mouth looking ever more menacing.

So many emotions racked through you at once. Though the sadness quickly turned to anger. You had spent many years training with the man Hvitserk killed. He was like family to you after having been placed by your side as a bodyguard.

Hvitserk watched on as he saw you striking everyone down that got in your way. He felt empowered to see how much of a fierce warrior you’ve become. He should know since he was the one who’d basically trained you.

Hvitserk jumped down from the hill he was on as you began to approach.

You faced each other down. He was breathing heavily with a bloody smile on his face. He kept gripping his sword in his hand. He was ready.

“You really want to do this?” It was never your intention to hurt him but for the sake of your people and family, what other choice did you have? 

You could have always told him, that thought had never left your mind but Hvitserk was none too good at confrontation. He wouldn’t want to hear it. He would avoid it until it got too much to handle.

Then there was Ivar. He was always someone you could confide in but as of late you didn’t know if he was on the verge of being power hungry or just mad altogether.

“You’ve left me no choice.”

“I did what I had to do for my family. You of all should understand that.”

He turned his head looking at all the blood and death that was surrounding him. He looked back at you and lifted his head in the direction of the chaos.

“All of this is happening because of that decision. If you’d been with us. Things could have been different.”

“It’s just the way things have to be.”

“Oh yeah,” he sniffled and started to circle around you. “Let’s see what you can do then.”

You raised your sword just as he did the same. Hvitserk tapped the tip of your sword smiling then he swung at you.

You blocked it and tried pushing him back with as much energy as you could muster up but he was forcing all his strength down on your sword. He brought you down to one knee as you continued to block his sword with yours.

When you knew you couldn’t hold out much longer, you kicked his leg out making him drop to the floor. You quickly scrambled on top of him with your sword to his neck making him laugh.

His small fit of laughter had soon died down when you made no other attempt to hurt him. He looked into your eyes and clenched his jaw.

“Did you ever love me?”

“Of course I did.”

“More than Ivar?” Hvitserk had never bothered to hide the fact that he was always jealous of his little brother.

“The same.” 

Hvitserk took your downcast look as an opportunity to flip you both over. He placed his hands over your neck shaking you.

“Tell me the truth?! After everything I’ve done for you! All that I shared! It was all for you! Now tell me who you loved more?”

He added more pressure onto your neck making you gasp. Tears were rushing from your eyes as you looked up at Hvitserk. 

It was unbelievable to think that just a few weeks ago he was staring down at you in this same position, only with kinder eyes and a gentler touch ready to leave his ways all behind and go away with you.

Ivar and Hvitserk shared you but as of late Hvitserk was starting to get more possessive. He was falling harder each time. He had always been with you.

Meanwhile, Ivar did break away to be with Freydis because he believed her when she spoke lies to him.

In that time, Hvitserk claimed you as his. He had never fallen so hard for one woman and the betrayal had hit him tenfold. He took it harder than anything else in his life.

When the time came that Ivar realized how rotten Freydis was, all he wanted was you back. He became obsessed with taking you away from Hvitserk.

“You,” your answer was quiet and strangled but Hvitserk heard. He pulled his hands away and looked at your face. “It was always you Hvitserk.”

Even in the midst of battle, Hvitserk leaned down and placed a small chaste kiss to your lips. You hadn’t reciprocated which didn’t go unnoticed.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke. Before you even had the chance to speak he hit your head against the ground rendering you unconscious. He picked you up over his shoulder and carried you to Ivar’s chariot.

Once he placed you inside, Ivar was quick to inspect your injury behind your head. He placed his hand on the spot where Hvitserk struck you. He brought his fingers up showing Hvitserk the blood on them.

“She’s bleeding.”

“How else did you expect her to come willingly?”

Hvitserk was beyond irritated and confused. He didn’t know what to think or feel about the whole situation. He loved you but the betrayal is what stopped him. He wanted to harden his heart.

“You’ve damaged her Hvitserk. I didn’t want her hurt or have any more reason for her to distrust us.”

“More than she already does?! Look where we are at. We are in battle. She’s already lost to us.”

“She isn’t lost on me. She could love me again.” Ivar brushed your cheek with his fingers gently. When he smiled down at your unconscious form Hvitserk couldn’t help but become even more annoyed.

“Whatever. When we get back we’ll have her chained.”

“Chained?” Ivar was appalled by his brother’s nonchalant response. “She will not be chained like some animal Hvitserk.”

“Where do you expect her to be held at?”

“My room. We’ll keep the doors locked at all times but she will be treated as a guest no doubt.”

“A prisoner treated like a guest?” Hvitserk scoffed at the idea.

“Brother you are so hostile.” Hvitserk was unamused. “I thought you loved her?”

“She betrayed us. Lied to me!” Hvitserk couldn’t help but kick up the dirt and throw one of his daggers at a tree.

“Funny, that’s what you did to me, yet, here we are. Truth is brother, despite all you’ve done against me, there was no doubt in my mind that I’d be the one to kill you but Y/N convinced me otherwise. She saved your life.” Hvitserk paused and turned to look at Ivar. This was all news to him. His features softened and his shoulders relaxed as he thought of how you would actually do that to save him. “Once you put a baby in her, she’ll forgive us.”

“What do you speak of Ivar?” Hvitserk narrowed his brows and approached the chariot slowly.

“You’ll be the one to put a baby in her.  As you know, I cannot have children nor provide any for her, but you can. If she has a baby with you then she cannot be against us.”

“You’re sick, Ivar.”

“Is it not your wish to fill her with babies and be the father of her children?”

Hvitserk rested his hand on top of the chariot as he leaned forward. “Not like that.”

“Only time will tell,” Hvitserk backed away when he saw his brother’s condescending smirk on his face. He never knew just how far he'd go until now.

Tagged: @belovedcherry​ @lordsexmachine​ @lol-haha-joke​ @mariaenchanted​ @ethereallysimple​ @bababasti​ @ir-abelas-telanadas​ @soleil-dor​ @youbloodymadgenius​

[the-iceni-bitch]

All I Need

Pairing: Andy Barber x Fem!Reader

Words: 4512

Summary: Andy has been drowning his grief at your bar for weeks. You help him dry out after a particularly bad night.

Warnings: Major angst!, softish Andy Barber, slight AU (spoilers for Defending Jacob book), explicit language, explicit sexual content (fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse), descriptions of excessive drinking by adult of appropriate age, SMUT, 18+ only!

A/N: I have officially jumped on the love train for everyone’s favorite floofy lawyer. The sad!boi activated my caretaker instincts so this is pretty soft compared to my normal fics, and extremely angsty. Plus the smut kind of got away from me, I actually had to stop myself from writing even more! 

Checkout my masterlist and join my taglist if your inclined!

“Shit!! Jesse!” you screamed over your shoulder towards the kitchen, grabbing the bat from under the register as you jumped over the bar to break up the fight.

You swore under your breath as you moved toward the two men who were brawling. The smaller one seemed to have the upper hand, but it didn’t seem like the larger man was putting up much resistance. Maggie just stood there watching them with bambi eyes as you heard your giant cook rumble behind you, ripping off his apron to lend you a hand.

“What the fuck happened, Mags?” You hissed at your bartender, trying to haul the men apart with little success.

“Neal just came over and said he was sorry, and he just lost it.” The poor girl looked like she was on the verge of tears. Granted, she probably wasn’t expecting to have to deal with brawls in downtown Newton at a lawyer bar, but Neal sure seemed to invite violent reactions whenever he opened his stupid mouth.

You lost your patience and smashed an empty glass on the floor next to the two men, shocking them out of it. Neal rose to his feet with a look of fury on his face, but you kept your eyes on Andy Barber.

He’d spent pretty much every night this week since the funeral at your bar. His face was pallid and he had dark rings under his eyes. He was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, and he smelled like stale bourbon. Now he was rolling around on the floor aimlessly like a slug.

“Get the fuck out of my bar, Neal.” You said exasperatedly, spying the mostly empty bottle of bourbon on Barber’s table.

“What, I didn’t do anything!” the giant whined at you.

“Really?! You couldn’t just leave the poor guy alone? Jesus Neal! I don’t wanna see you in here for a month.” You hooked your arms under Andy’s and dragged him to sit on the bench, his head lolling drunkenly on his neck as you tried to assess how far gone he was.

“Fuck you, bitch.” Neal spat at you as he turned on his heel and stormed out, slamming the front door behind him.

“Have a great night!” You called after him, sarcastically, flipping him off.

“You sure that’s a good idea, boss?” Jesse asked, his massive arms crossed over his chest as he shook his head at you.

“Who cares, I hate that smug asshole. Hey, Andy?” You snapped your fingers in front of his face and he slapped your hand away lazily, growling under his breath. “You sneak behind the bar again, man?”

“I swear, I didn’t sell him a bottle, Y/N.” Her chin was quivering as tears slowly leaked down her cheeks.

“I know Mags, he’s a sneaky bastard. Don’t worry, sweetie, you’re not in any trouble. Go to the bathroom and splash some water on your face.” You watched her scurry off to the bathroom and rubbed a hand over your face. “Fuck. I’m gonna call in Emma to give Maggie a hand. You ok locking up tonight Jess?”

“Sure, what’re you thinking?”

You just stared at Andy with overwhelming pity as he almost slid of the bench, forcing you to keep a steadying hand on his shoulder. “I’m gonna take him back to his hotel and help him dry out. Wouldn’t feel right just kicking him to the curb.”

“You’re too soft, Y/N.” Jess chortled at you.

“Yeah, maybe. Can you bring me an ice bucket?” You hooked his arm over your shoulder and hauled him to his feet so you could make your way out to your car.

Jess got your bucket from behind the bar as you hobbled outside. You managed to get your passenger door open and you slid Andy inside. His head rolled on his shoulders as you buckled him in before shoving the bucket into his lap.

“Andy, can you hear me? Don’t you fucking puke in my car!”

He grunted in acknowledgment and wrapped his arms around the bucket, curling himself over to hang his head above it.

“You sure you shouldn’t be taking him to a hospital, Y/N?”

“No… mmph… no fucking hospital!” Andy slurred at you as you slammed the door closed.

“I’m pretty sure he’d jump out of the car if he thought I was taking him to the hospital Jess.” You murmured as you circled to the driver’s side. “Thanks for closing, you’re the best!”

You watched him wave in your rearview as you drove off, making sure to keep one eye on Andy as he groaned over his bucket.

You reached his hotel in 15 minutes, grateful for the short drive as the man was looking greener by the second. You dug your hands in the pockets of his coat, searching for the keys to his room and you thankfully found them quickly. You were relieved to see he was on the first floor, as you didn’t trust your ability to safely get him up the stairs.

Getting Andy out of your car was a deal harder than getting him in, as he slipped further into his alcohol induced stupor. You almost dropped him when you wrenched him out of his seat, and you basically carried him to his room.

You somehow managed to get the door unlocked and drag him inside right when you heard his stomach roil. You cursed under your breath as you scrambled to get him to the bathroom, shoving his head in the toilet just in time as he emptied his gut.

“Shit, Andy.” You hissed, your hands on your knees as you tried your best to breathe deeply and get accustomed to the scent of his alcohol-soaked stomach contents. Once you were sure he was relatively stable, you moved to the kitchenette and filled a glass with tepid water before returning to find him leaned back against the wall. “Drink.” You ordered, kneeling beside him and bringing the glass up to his lips.

His eyes locked onto yours as he chugged the water down greedily. No sooner had he swallowed the glass’ contents than he was lunging forward to throw it back up. You tutted worriedly as you rubbed a hand over his back and used the other to start the shower.

“Why the fuck are you here, Y/N?” He grumbled miserably, not bothering to lift his head as you dragged his coat over his shoulders and threw out into the living area.

“I couldn’t have you killing yourself in my bar, Andy. Where’s your phone?” His stomach seemed to have calmed down, so you drew him to lean back against the wall and started to tug off his boots.

“S’in my back pocket.” He slurred at you. You rolled him over and drew the phone out of his jeans to set it on the counter. “You could’ve let me do it here.”

“Nah.” You said. “If you quit coming around, what excuse am I gonna have to kick Neal out?” You rolled up your sleeves and thrust your hand under the shower’s flow, checking the temperature. “Hey, don’t you dare pass out on me!” You slapped him in the face as he started to doze off and you worked on getting him undressed. “I’m fucking serious, Barber, you don’t get to drink yourself to death on my watch.” You finally got his shirt off and started to drag his jeans down his legs.

“But why?” His eyes were boring into you now, pleading for some kind of answer to what possible reason there was for him to stick around as they welled up with tears.

You chewed your lip as you thought about it.

Andy had been a fixture at your bar for years. Always coming by for a celebratory drink after a win, or when he was working late on a difficult case. Even during Jacob’s trial, he’d stopped by with Joanna a few times to hash out details of the case. No matter how much stress he was under, you were always able to make him smile, and he always left a very generous tip no matter who was serving him. Your bar had been one of the only places he’d always felt welcome, and you had no qualms about kicking out anyone who wanted to give him a hard time.

Then the crash happened. He lost Jacob first; he was DOA to the hospital. His visits to your bar were more somber then. You didn’t try to make him smile, you barely even talked to him. But you’d drink with him in silence when he was the last patron in the bar, sitting across from him in his booth as the rest of the staff shut things down, occasionally placing your hand over his and rubbing your thumb over his knuckles in a comforting gesture.

They had taken Laurie off life support 2 weeks ago, and after her funeral was when he really started to spiral. Rather than nursing his usual three drinks, he was downing whole bottles a night. You had to instruct your staff to cut him off after 6, or he would end up like he was tonight. This wasn’t the first time you had caught him with a stolen bottle.

You couldn’t say why you cared so much. You weren’t even sure you were really friends. But through everything that happened, you seemed to be the only constant, an anchor point for him as his world fell apart.

“I dunno Andy.” You murmured as you drew off his socks before rolling him into the tub with a lurch, making him gasp as the cold water hit his skin. “I guess I’d miss you.”

He glared at you as he shivered under the shower’s stream, huddled around himself in only his boxers.

“Do I need to wash you, or do you think you can handle that on your own?” You asked, handing him a washcloth and some soap.

“I can handle it.” He hissed, snatching them from your hands as he braced himself against the wall and drew himself slowly to his feet.

“Good.” You started gathering up his soiled clothes. “Make sure to wash the vomit out of your beard.”

He ripped the shower curtain closed and tossed his boxers over the rail at you, grumbling the whole time. You bagged up his dirty laundry and set some clean sweats on the counter in the bathroom before you set to work on cleaning the rest of the hotel room, doing your best not to gag at the week-old takeout containers.

Andy staggered out of the bathroom 30 minutes later, rubbing a towel through his hair as he wobbled on still drunk legs.

“How’s your stomach?” You asked, stretched out on the couch and sipping a glass of ginger ale.

“S’better.” He murmured, stumbling his way to the bed and collapsing on it with a groan.

“And your head?”

“Fuck you.” He murmured with his face buried in the pillows.

You grabbed the garbage can from the bathroom and set it next to the bed. “Make sure you sleep on your side or your stomach. I’ll be on the couch.” You turned to leave and he grabbed your wrist, pulling you back.

“No, stay with me.” He mumbled, peeking up at you through those stupid long eyelashes, his damp hair drooping over his forehead.

“You’re still drunk, Andy.” You scolded, snatching your wrist away from him. You couldn’t deny you’d thought about it before, but there was no way you were going to let him make a move on you after the night he had. “I’m just 20 feet away, here to make sure you don’t choke on your own vomit overnight.”

You turned back to find him passed out, a thin trail of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. You rolled your eyes and turned off the lights before collapsing on the couch in a huff.

Andy woke up to the smell of sausage and eggs as you slammed the hotel room door, carrying some takeout from the greasy spoon down the road.

“Shit, I was hoping to sneak out before you were up.” You murmured as he rose up off the bed, his bedhead a sight to behold. “I got you breakfast.”

“What happened last night?” He groaned, his stomach churning as he inhaled the smell of the food you had brought in.

“Well, you stole a bottle of Woodford Reserve from my bar, drank more than half of it, then fought Neal.” You shoved a plate of food in front of him as he sat down at the island. “Then I brought you back here and held your hair while you puked your guts out.”

“Fuck.” He murmured, fighting the urge to gag as he eyed the plate in front of him. “How did I get in these sweats?”

“Don’t worry, I dumped you in the shower in your boxers, no looks at the goods. And even if I had, last night was decidedly unsexy.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” He murmured, burying his head in his hands.

“Mmhmm. Eat.” You ordered, making him groan. “Suck it up, Barber, you’ll feel better after a couple of bites.” You watched him shovel a bite in his mouth and chew dutifully, taking a deep breath as you steeled yourself for what you wanted to say. “Are you talking to anyone, Andy?”

“’M talking to you.” He said around his second mouthful off breakfast, starting to feel a bit better.

“I mean like a shrink.” You said, seriously.

“What the fuck is this?” He threw his fork down on his plate, pissed. This was none of your business.

“Andy, you’ve been drinking yourself stupid every night for the past 2 weeks. It’s not healthy, and I don’t want to be responsible for you ruining your life.”

He gave you a snort of derision and rolled his eyes as he stood up to walk away. “Fuck off.”

“Hey!” now you were angry. “I care about you asshole! You think I enjoyed last night? I’m sick of it!” You followed after him, grabbing his shoulder and turning him around sharply.

“It’s not your problem, Y/N.” He seethed at you, ripping your hand off his shoulder as he took a menacing step towards you.

“You made it my problem when you decided to use my bar as the stage for your descent to rock bottom, dick!” You were yelling now. “Y’know what, fuck this. Figure your shit out Barber. Until then, don’t step foot in my bar.” You stormed out, slamming the door behind you as you slipped your coat back over your shoulders.

“Fuck!!” Andy screamed before charging after you.

He managed to catch up to you as you were about to open your car door and he slammed it shut over your shoulder, pinning you against the driver’s side of your vehicle.

“I swear to god, Andy, I’ll mace you.” You hissed at him, turning as you dug your hand in your bag. He wrapped a massive hand around your wrist, stopping your turn halfway.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, pressing his forward to yours as he leaned against you. “I need you.”

“Andy…” this was such a bad idea.

“Why’d you stay last night?” He muttered, bringing his hand down to cup your cheek. “You said you care about me.”

“I do care, Andy.” You sighed as he took another step into you, pressing his body against yours. “Fuck, what’re you doing?”

“Stay.” He whispered, dipping his face to catch your lips with his and sending every objection you had right out of your head.

You sighed against him as you wrapped your hands in his hair, rolling your body against his. He ran his tongue over your bottom lip before pressing it against yours, his hands moving down to your hips and drawing you into him. You let out a whine as you felt his growing erection grinding against you.

“Shit.” You hissed as you felt a rush of arousal soak your panties. “Andy, we need to go back to the room.”

“Right.” He muttered, deepening your kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck and he lifted you off the ground as he drew you away from your car and started to head back towards the room, thankful he had left the door ajar.

You kicked the door closed as he carried you inside, giving a small huff when he sat down on the bed with you straddling his lap. You slipped your coat over your shoulders and tossed it aside as his mouth devoured yours, lips molding to each other as your tongues tangled.

Andy slipped his fingers under the hem of your tee and drew it over your head, throwing it on top of your jacket before unclasping the front of your lacy bra and nuzzling himself between your breasts. He rolled the two of you gently until he was on top of you.

You sighed as Andy moved his mouth over the slope of your breast to wrap his lips around one of your nipples, sucking softly as he moved one hand to dip beneath the waistline of your jeans. He groaned against your chest when he found you sopping wet for him.

“God, I need you, sweetheart.” He mumbled against your skin as he worked at unbuttoning your fly, dragging your jeans and panties down your legs and flinging them aside before bringing his hand back up to cup your heat. “Need to make you feel good. Lose myself in you for just a bit.” He moved his lips up to brush against your neck as he rubbed his fingers through your folds, spreading your slick over your mound and making you gasp, your fingers gripping his massive biceps tightly as he teased you.

“Andy, please.” You whined, canting your hips into his hand, your clit throbbing with need as the pads of his fingers brushed against it.

He brought his face up to yours as he plunged one thick finger into you, a smile teasing his lips as he watched your face screw up in bliss. He dipped his lips to meet yours as he added another finger, swallowing your small cry.

“You feel so good, beautiful. So warm and tight.” He scissored his fingers inside of you, drawing lewd squelches from your canal as your arousal soaked his hand. “Fuck me, you’re perfect.”

You scrabbled your hands over the broad muscles of his back as he curled his fingers inside you, massaging that soft, spongy muscle deep within your canal. He buried his face in your neck, murmuring soft praises as you came apart beneath him.

You mewled as he inserted a third finger, your cunt clenching around him as you thrust yourself onto his hand, fucking yourself on his digits.

“You close love?” He asked, his thumb brushing against your clit before he started massaging it gently. Pressing soft circles into your core as you writhed beneath him.

“Oh, fuck.” You muttered. “fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck……”

He felt you tense underneath him when he drove his thumb into your clit, hard. You choked on your tongue as every muscle in your body vibrated with pleasure, your release gushing over Andy’s hand and soaking him to the wrist. He felt your nails digging through his sweatshirt as you came.

He kept his fingers moving inside you as your rode out your orgasm, your body rolling in waves underneath him as your pleasure wracked you, leaving you breathless. Once you sagged back against the bed, he withdrew them, disconnecting from you reluctantly to remove his own clothes. Staring down at you, all he wanted was to press himself against every inch of you. Claim every slope and curve of your body for his own.

He gripped one ankle and brought it up to his mouth, skimming his lips over the jut of bone as his fingers skirted over your calf, pressing into the firm muscle there. His lips followed his fingers, searing your skin with each lingering kiss and brush of his tongue as he worked his way further up your leg. Your cunt clenched around nothing when he reached your thigh, his beard scratching at the soft skin between your legs as he marked you with lips and teeth. You tangled your fingers in the blankets and moaned when he bypassed your core, moving up the line of your hip as he claimed you.

Your breath was coming quicker as worked his way over your body. His lips swept against your abdomen now, his tongue dipping into your navel as he nuzzled over the midline of your torso. All you could focus on was the feel of his mouth on your skin, leaving a trail of electricity as marked you as his. He laved his tongue over first one nipple, then the other as you arched into him, pressing your thighs together as your pussy throbbed with need.

He moved to trace the curves of your shoulders, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed his way down first one arm, then the other. You were panting now, your thighs soaked as arousal seeped out of you. Andy traced his fingers over your torso, skimming over the slopes of your breasts as he moved to kiss the curve of your neck, sucking gently to draw light bruises as his hands moved lower, kneading into your hips. He drew your knees apart slowly, slotting himself between your thighs as he dragged his hard length through your folds, making you keen as he ground into you.

You were a mess, your breath coming in ragged gasps as his hips rocked against you. You were desperate for release, every inch of you tingling with need and when Andy’s cock brushed against your clit, you lost it. You threw your head back in ecstasy as your fingers scrabbled in the sheets, desperate to hold onto something to keep you anchored.

Andy just stared at you, one massive palm cupping your cheek as he watched you falling apart. He needed you so much, you were the only constant he had. The only person who didn’t make him feel like a charity case or a failure. He hated what he was becoming, what the secrets and the tragedy were turning him into, but he knew if you stayed with him, he could come back.

“Y/N,” He whispered as you relaxed and he stilled his hips, his thumb tracing your cheekbone as you slowly opened your eyes, gazing up at him through your lust blown pupils. “Promise you won’t leave me.”

“Andy,” a small voice in the back of your mind was trying to warn you, telling you not to commit to anything now while he was still drowning in his grief. But you were overwhelmed with the pleasurable assault he had subjected you to and when he pressed his lips to yours again, that little voice went away. “I promise.” You gasped when he released you.

He grinned at you as he lined himself up, resting his forehead against yours as he gazed into your eyes. You were so wet that he slid into you easily, bottoming out right away with a hiss.

“Fuck, honey.” He murmured against your lips as you whined, his hips setting a languorous pace as he pulled out halfway before thrusting back into you. “God, you’re so tight, you feel amazing.”

You couldn’t reply, you could already feel another orgasm building as you thrust your hips to meet his, mewling softly as the warm coil in your stomach tightened. You ran your fingers over his auburn beard before burying them in his hair, panting into his mouth as he brought you closer to the edge.

Andy brought one hand between the two of you and strummed his thumb against your clit, making you tighten your fists in his hair until it was painful.

“God, Andy, right there.” You sobbed, your cunt clamping around him as he moved to bury his face in your neck, nuzzling against the hollow behind your ear.

“Go ahead, beautiful.” He scraped his teeth over the edge of your jaw as he drove his thumb against you, and you screamed.

You fluttered around him as your body spasmed, multiple waves of pleasure rippling through you. Your knees gripping around his hips and squeezing as your torso rolled against his. You sank back against the bed with a sigh as your body relaxed, Andy still fucking into you and starting to pick up speed.

“I’m gonna move you, pretty girl.” He wrapped his arms around you and rolled until you were on top of him, pressing you against his chest as he kissed you deeply. “Wanna watch you ride me.”

You gave him a smile as you sat up, bracing your hands against his chest as you ground yourself against him. He was seated in you deeper than anyone had ever been, his cock dragging against that secret spot inside you with each drive of your hips, making you groan. He thrust up into you and groaned at the bounce of your tits while you let out a cry at his tip hitting your cervix.

Andy dug his fingers into your hips as he took over, pistoning up into with increasing speed as your cunt clamped around him. Your head rolled loosely on your shoulders as you let go, eyes fluttering as you felt another orgasm gathering.

You gripped his hips tightly with your thighs as it hit you like a truck, sobbing with pleasure while your muscles shivered over him. Andy sat up quick and caught you before you could collapse back on the bed, wrapping one hand around the back of your neck and catching you lips with his as his hips picked up even more speed.

“Shit.” He murmured against your lips. You felt his cock twitch inside you as his hips faltered in their rhythm. “Are you on the pill honey?”

You nodded vigorously, unable to speak as Andy’s violent thrusts had knocked all the breath out of your lungs and you were gasping.

“Good. Fuck.” He nipped at your lips before shoving his tongue down your throat.

You felt warmth spread through your abdomen as he shot his release into you, his thick spend coating the slick walls inside you and leaking out over your thighs as he fucked you through it. He slowed his thrusts as you felt him soften inside you, groaning into your mouth as he came down and collapsed back against the bed, holding you close to his chest.

His chest hair scratched against your cheek as he breathed deeply, trying to slow his heart rate back down and rubbing his fingers over your spine as you panted on top of him.

Neither of you spoke for a while, content to lie in the comfort of each other’s arms. You made Andy feel safe, and he made you feel needed, and that was all the two of required for now.

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[jazillia007]

Final thoughts on Good Girls season 3

So I'm giving you a little disclaimer: This is going to be long and honest and unfiltered. I think many people who unconditionally liked season 3 will say that all the people who criticize this season, based on the episodes we got, it's because we didn't get the last 5 episodes (because then it's gonna be good/make sense). But I dismiss this notion because we got more than half of the season (70% in this case) and if a season doesn't deliver or build any momentum people have the right to criticize. Just as people who enjoyed it can write how much they liked season 3 based on 11 episodes.

To me: this season felt like a patchwork rug. It's like the writers didn't know how to fill 16 episodes properly. And I'm gonna be honest I hope if there is a season 4 that NBC will cut it down to 10 episodes. Because apparently the writers are unable to tell their stories when they have too much time on their hands. It's like they threw in ANY ideas they had, turned on the mixer and then expected it to make all sense or to be entertaining. And it simply wasn't for me. But if you're not into reading people's opinions that doesn't agree with yours, feel free to scroll past my post. If you're okay with it, continue after the cut.

The Good:

Beth's wig

I'm not kidding when I'm saying that it's literally the best thing in season 3. They hopefully burnt that season 2 wig and we will never see it again. I disliked how they fluffed her wig sometimes this season but other than that it's great.

Lucy and Rhea

Honestly, I loved them. They didn't take Beth's nonsense. Especially Lucy just didn't like how Beth used her in order to make counterfeit money. I'm celebrating every character who gives Beth a piece of their mind (except Dean because Dean can suffocate on his opinion and entitlement). It's sad she wasn't around more and that her life ended (THANK YOU, DEAN!).

With Rhea I'm sad the writers didn't make use of her character and the actress more. She was literally around for one episode and disappeared when she could've given us more insides on Rio. I'm also not happy she was in the end utilized as well as a plot device. It doesn't matter if she was used by a male or female character, in the end she was a plot device and nothing more. And it's terrible because Jackie Cruz did so much better in the few scenes she got than Ione Skye did with Gayle. It's true, don't fight me on this!

And then of course Marcus who is just the most adorable and consistent kid on this show. Like any other kid just disappears and reappears and people tend to forget they exist but the actor who plays him makes him unforgettable with his cuteness. Unfortunately, Beth forgot about him and Rhea the moment she decided Rio is again responsible for every bad thing happening in her life.

Episode 3x01

Literally the only episode I enjoyed from beginning to end. I can't name any episode afterwards I liked completely.

I only enjoyed parts here and there from a couple episodes but not one episode after 3x01 was exceptionally good and that's just sad when the past seasons still got episodes I'm fond of today. And no, not all of them because of Beth and Rio but because those episodes just were fun to watch and I did rewatch them many times. I didn't rewatch any episode more than once this season and I have literally no wish to rewatch season 3.

Because I'm Brio trash...

…I basically fall easily into the trap of the NBC promo team showing upcoming Brio scenes which make me melt. Like if they can write Brio scenes in which both are on the verge of jumping eachother it's just amazing. And it's most likely because Christina and Manny have this incomparable chemistry. The bar scene was just WOW! And I have to admit my weakness but when they make it work on screen I literally forget how I dislike everything else. So it's always a sad wakeup call when we leave them behind and I'm back in this GG AU which is just not as good as the last two seasons.

Ruby and Stan

These two had such a rough season 3 as well and I will come for the writers shouldn't they work out. Because I have this terrible feeling that even though Stan said they're in this together it foreshadows something bad. And I hope I'm wrong. And again I will come for the writers if anything happens to these two and should they divorce before Beth and Dean I'm going to riot. There is only ONE marriage worth saving here and that's the Hill marriage.

The Meh:

Annie's arc

Gosh, if you know me you know what's coming. I'm not a fan of Annie. Never have been, never will be. And that main reason is that I find her unrelatable. We're so different. And I feel with Beth and Ruby anytime she opens her mouth and something childish comes out of it. But HOLD ON! Before you start throwing stones at me. That doesn't mean I don't understand why Annie is the way she is and that Beth played a part in it but also knew that if Beth didn't play a part in it who knows where Annie would be now. So the thing is because Annie and I are not on the same wave I tend to like Beth and Ruby more because even though I do not necessarily understand their actions either sometimes, I relate more. And don't get me wrong! Annie did an fantastic job with Ben. Even though she should stop treating him like her best friend and start acting like a mother, so Ben doesn't need to be the adult in their relationship. And Mae Whitman is just acting her a** off with what she is given by the writers.

AND this season was the first time I thought the writers would finally give Annie a proper arc. I was celebrating when she got into therapy and wanting to educate herself more to get a better job. Like YES girl! I thought I was finally seeing some growth in her character and I finally could see myself rooting for her.

But it quickly just fell apart. The fact she sought therapy with a children's therapist is symbolic but also inappropriate and I think we can all agree that Josh should've been the adult and told Annie to find someone else or even better recommend her to someone. I'm not even sure if a female or male psychologist would be better but just anyone but Josh.

I really don't understand how the writers can tear apart a good plotline like this and turn it into something so destructive.

Brio Feud plot

I went into this season knowing there would be a feud between Beth and Rio – as we all did. I expected it but I thought the execution of it was rather poor. I understood very quickly after 2x13 that we wouldn't get the playfulness back we had in season 1 and 2. I knew there would be a tonal shift in season 3. It's not that I didn't see it coming or didn't expect it. But what I didn't expect was that the writing would be so weak. Not to say if the whole feud plot clicked for you, you're in the wrong but it didn't click for me. And I think the problem for me was that I didn't really understand what the writers wanted from me. I understood when Beth felt guilty about killing Rio in 2x13. This was the first time she made the rash decision to kill someone who not only was her business partner but also her lover – so to speak. I also understood that was the reason why she approached Rhea and Marcus. To somehow make it okay again.

But then Rio is back. And again I absolutely understand how terrified Beth is. She killed this man and now he is back and obviously out for revenge or some sort of punishment. I would be scared for my life as well. I disliked the fake pregnancy because I always find it a shitty – female – lie to manipulate men. But on the other hand I thought it was smart of Beth to call on Rio's role as a father. Again manipulative but smart in this situation where she fears for her life. I was a bit torn when the whole thing got resolved after literally half an episode but now I'm happy they didn't drag it out for long. On the other hand I might've liked this plot more than the hitman plot later. Or maybe not.

I'm also on the team who doesn't think for one second that Rio believed her lie. I think he was fascinated by how quickly Beth was able to find someone to lie for her. Again, I dislike very much how Rhea off-screen helped Beth. I know this is the really weird idea of feminism the writers have. The kind of feminism that was in 30 years ago. I just can't with these writers. But it is what it is. And it was an easy way to move Rhea into non-existence which again was such a shame.

Then we get the whole Lucy debacle in which Beth drags Lucy into this crimeworld she clearly doesn't want to be part of. We get some Beth making money in front of Rio scene which is cut in such a romantic way but also it reads so differently for some people. And that's the overall problem with Brio this season that the writers apparently (and according to that Krebs/Bans interview) want to show Beth being torn between being utterly terrified by Rio („[...] who is suddenly a murderer […]) but at the same time wondering why she still feels attracted by him.

And I'm just here „Huh? So this is what this is about?“. As if Rio wasn't murderer in season 1 and 2 and as if Beth didn't know that. What did she think taking care of her rotten eggs meant? Painting stage settings for her kids' plays in school together? I don't think so.

I'm sorry but that doesn't make sense. Does it make sense to be conflicted about wanting Rio sexually when he is threatening to kill her – after she killed him, just going to remind y'all? Yes, that makes sense. Was it well executed throughout season 3? No. They did deliver the bar scene and they obviously showed that Beth is trying use her body to manipulate Rio.

But at the same time they turn Rio into this angry man who is out there for revenge and is constantly threatening Beth. But Beth is just as terrible. There I said it. From the beginning she dragged every possible person into her crimelife, starting in season 1 when she dragged Ruby and Annie into all this again after leaving the pearls behind. And this season she dragged Rhea into her problems, then Lucy who paid with her life. Then Lucy's boyfriend. The first of so many ridiculous hitman plot running gags. Is it meant to be a running gag? I don't know. But I have to see it that way or I just keep thinking about how the writers apparently have no idea how to fill 16 episodes with anything substantial.

So I don't see how Beth is anything better than Rio. Or why I should like her more than Rio or hate her more than Rio.

I'm not going to be blinded by that last Brio scene in 3x11. I liked it a lot. Because it showed potential what Beth and Rio could've been much earlier. I would liked some darker banter between them for maybe 7 episodes and then from there they could've started where 3x11 ended now and then we could've introduced the FBI plot as the main antagonist for the last arc of the season.

And maybe I would've liked the feud more if I didn't feel like the writers just threw it at us so half-heartly. Like they didn't want to write it or didn't know how to write it in a smart and fun way. And I'm not going to join in that discussion some people have about the BTS drama we don't know anything about. Because: we don't know. But the whole fight/war between Beth and Rio felt meh. The writers and also editors felt a lot more comfortable with the fun/playful side of Brio and you can see it if you put the „I lost the baby“ scene next to the „My ottoman“ scene.

The Bad:

No red thread, no spark

I think I said it all in the parts above but from the beginning there was no red thread. I didn't know what the writers wanted from me for this season. It was a patchwork rug. Just throwing it all in but in the end it doesn't lead to anything. Yes, of course, many things would've escalated in the last 3 episodes or so. But even before I expected one thing to lead to the other. Certainly there was tension between Beth and Rio, then the killing of Lucy. But afterwards it's like there was no drive anymore.

There was no excitement, no thrill, no spark. I wasn't on the edge of my seat, thinking „OMG! Is Rio going to kill Beth?“. Because we all know he isn't going to kill Beth because she is wearing a plot amor. She can't die. And I don't want her to die but if I would feel there is the possibility then maybe I would've cared a lot more about Beth's fear for her life and her plans to get rid off Rio. Rio is the only one who is in real danger here and even that gets watered down because Beth's plans just fail again and again.

Then they introduce the female FBI agent Phoebe Donnegan as the replacement for Turner and first I wasn't so sure how I felt about that but then I did like it they chose an actress who looks so plain in the role of Phoebe. Someone who gets underestimated a lot at first, just like Beth. So I was kinda into it and I still am but I also think they need to give me a lot more and I wished they would've introduced her earlier to flesh her out more.

Dean + Beth = Death

Do I need to say anything more? Other than I hate it that this show calls itself feministic but let's Beth stay with Dean who gets away with cheating, lying and abusing her without ANY type of confrontation. I have written so much about how I understand that some women stay with their shitty men. But I don't know Beth and Dean did sign the papers, they had the divorce talk with their kids and yes, Beth killing Rio got in the way but still... they didn't even touch the topic in season 3. They just existed. And I get that the writers chose this deliberately to show that Beth doesn't care and is only using Dean. And Dean is still the shitty „man“ he was 2 seasons before and he is still very dumb because he doesn't know what's going on in Beth's life. But that doesn't mean I'm happy with this overall „let's pretend we're happy“ narrative. And I can only – foolishly – hope that in season 4 (I feel like I said that about season 3 as well) we will finally see the end of this farce. Because if you want to send a message out there it's that no woman needs a man like Dean in their life when she can make damn good counterfeit money. Nothing would be more feministic on this show right now than this. Which leads me to my last argument.

The writers' idea of feminism and female empowerment

I think the worst thing about this show is that producers and writers claim this is a show with badass women, doing badass stuff, being all badass and you know they're BADASS! And they call it a feministic tv show and a show about female empowerment. And let me just throw up in my garbage bin over there because I'm over this narrative. And again before you throw stones at me. I love me some female centered tv shows (note the term I'm using) or tv shows/movies/books with strong female characters. But I want them to be strong, intelligent and capable without trying SO HARD. Just because you put women in it doesn't make a show feministic. Just because you make women do crazy stuff it doesn't make a show feministic.

Do I think GG did a good job with that? Partly. But I didn't start watching GG because of that. I rarely start a show because it got only female characters in it and they do their thing. The premise is what matters and it sounded like fun and it sounded self-ironic and I liked that. And then there was Brio but again, I just liked how the women didn't take it too serious but at the same so serious. It was delightful to watch. And to have Beth kick Dean out of her house and for her to tell him she isn't afraid of the dark. Standing up against Rio, pitching her ridiculous but too good ideas to him. Or for Annie to raise Ben. Or for Ruby to do anything for her daughter and tell Stan she is THAT bitch. Now THAT is peak feminism for me. Or at least a good, a VERY good thing to start with.

I'm not into the 70s/80s kind of „We hate men! Destroy men! Hate ALL the men!“ type of feminism. That's easy and boring and definitely doesn't work with how the society is.

And I think that especially in season 3 (but already in season 2) Good Girls somewhat turns to that type of feminism. This idea that Beth can do anything and she is strong and smart, even though her decisions are not thought through. It doesn't matter she is a woman and we have to side with her no matter what. And I want to side with her but oh boy if that isn't difficult. And I'm not even going to touch on her being a white woman who is literally getting away with anything but just keeps blaming other people, namely Rio, for her problems. Like that's a topic for another post but definitely merges with the topic of feminism.

Anyways...

I dislike it when the writers make Rio look dumb in order to make Beth look smart. I'm sorry! I can buy that Beth makes pristine fake cash. In the end it's a tv show I have to buy some of the fantasy and I totally like it when Rio gets hot over Beth making perfect counterfeit money. But the fact the writers sold me smart Rio in the past 2 seasons but now I'm supposed to believe that Beth knows more than Rio even though he is the one who is the actual crime boss? I'm sorry but no.

Also, the writers have this „talent“ to make Beth look smart and dumb at the same time because they let her say stuff like „I googled it“. I mean am I supposed to think the writers are actually on Beth's side when she is saying that? Saying you googled it, is like saying you wrote a academic thesis by searching for info on Wikipedia.

I don't know but I think the writers have this idea in their mind that „for so many centuries men turned women dumb and it's only fair we turn it around and do the same to men now – let's call it feminism!“ and I'm not here for it.

I also don't like when they stereotype how male criminals and female criminals work. When they introduce Phoebe she says something like „She is a woman.“. And I was a bit confused but also curious how she got to that conclusion. I was expecting something smart to make her character shine and make me go „WOW! Okay, she IS smart!“. But instead she said „She is using nail polish.“. So this is how these writers try to make women look smart by her thinking only women use nail polish, so only women would have the idea to use nail polish for the counterfeit money.

This is just few of the many things bothering me but it makes me not taking anything what Jenna Bans says serious. And that's just sad! Because I love Beth, Ruby and Annie. I want to root for Beth and I actually do so. I just want her to be able to admit she is doing a shit job herself and she is learning from it. I don't need her to be perfect. I don't need her to be strong all the time. If she would just be more honest with herself, saying she is a mess but she is loving it. It would make me love her more and side with her more. If she would say she hates that Lucy had to die because of the decisions she made but she can't change it anymore. It would be a huge progress. And I know many will say that's not what Beth does. But I would answer yes but then we have no character development. She is one of the main characters, she can't just lie around and think about it without actually saying it. We need her to be more vocal. And I mean the fact she is actively going back to making fake cash and trying to set up a business to wash the money, together with Rio (or like she wants – or does she? - without him), IS saying a lot but still all her other actions in which she puts herself into the position of a victim who tries desperately to get rid off the person who she thinks is her problem, is contradicting everything.

I think if GG gets a season 4 the writers would need to do a lot to make this whole female empowerment narrative work for me again because right now they've used it in such inflationary way the meaning is just a joke. Again if it works for you that's great. But it didn't work for me. But I'm emotionally still involved enough in the whole thing that I will be stupid enough to watch season 4. Just to see if they can actually deliver SOMETHING.

[exkernal]

My Only Peace: 3/?

William insists he stay the night, and after a token protest, Nelson agrees. To his surprise, William leads him to his old bedroom.

"But it's the master," he says, confused. "It should be yours."

"Didn't feel right," Will mutters, and that's all the explanation he'll give.

It's exactly as Nelson left it two years ago, with one notable addition on the mantelpiece: a framed photograph of the original Minutemen at the height of their glory.

Nelson stares at the youthful faces of his comrades. They're all old or dead or disgraced now. He sees his younger self, brimming with confidence that bordered on the absurd, standing close to Hooded Justice, who looked like a god among men. Even in the black and white photograph, his desire for closeness is obvious. How he couldn't resist the back pats and shoulder clasps, or any of the other myriad of socially acceptable touches that always lingered a little too long.

Little wonder that their relationship became an open secret among the Minutemen.

Nelson sinks into the old familiar bed, but he already knows he'll have trouble sleeping that night. After all, this was the very place where he and Will made love for the first time.

"Making love" was probably not the right term for it. He'd lusted after William from the moment he first appeared in the New York Gazette. At first he told himself that it was simply admiration, but it was the beginnings of a school boy crush, the kind that used to keep him awake at night in the boarding school dormitory, intrigued and disturbed at the same time.

After his brief meeting at the Reeves' home, he reached two conclusions: that young Officer Reeves was not a simple courier but Hooded Justice himself, and that there was a spark between them.

He cautioned himself. He'd become quite adept at recognizing the subtle cues that men put out, but he'd been wrong before. One of those wrongs resulted in a black eye and cracked rib, which he passed off to his fellow Marines as the result of a drunken fall after a night partying. Luckily, the other officer was too embarrassed to tell their superior, or else Nelson would've lost more than his pride.

It goes without saying that Will wasn't what he expected--and truthfully, Nelson's only experiences with black people were as servants--but it didn't take long for him to fall head over heels.

To stave off the early morning awkwardness, Will suggests they go out to brunch. The diner is similar to their old meeting place, though slightly more upscale. IT reminded him, bitterly, of their last conversation together.

Don't think about that now, he tells himself. Not when William is actually speaking to him.

"Don't worry," Will mutters, opening up a newspaper. "If anyone asks, we're two retired cops catching up."

Nelson bristles a little. "I'm not worried."

And he's not. There was a time when that's all he'd be thinking about, but those days are long gone.

"Isn't that your friend?" Will says, jabbing at a black and white photo of Adrian Veidt. "Ozy-man-mouthful-of-a-name?"

He snorts. "I wouldn't call him a friend exactly. We've barely spoken since my, uh, bout of foolishness in '66."

The waitress brings them their coffee. Nelson doesn't wait for the scalding beverage to cool off. He's too eager to do something with his hands.

"Speaking of Veidt," he says, "he told me an interesting theory about you."

"Oh yeah?" Will raises an eyebrow.

"He investigated Hooded Justice's disappearance before I ever formed the Crimebusters. Apparently, it led him straight to Eddie Blake. Eddie mistook him for a criminal, and beat him up."

William chuckles. "You don't say."

A smile twists at Nelson's lips. "Adrian concluded, based on your documented feud, that Eddie killed you back in '55."

His expression darkens. "As if that sniveling little pissant  could ever get the drop on me. I should've snapped his worthless neck after he attacked Sally."

"That probably would've been for the best," Nelson agrees. "I thought it best to let Adrian believe his theory--after all, you don't want the worlds smartest man on your case. "

"More like the world's best PR man," Will mutters.

Nelson clears his throat. "Have you read Hollis's book?"

"Might've skimmed it in an airport," he says breezily. "Why?"

"According to Hollis, you were an East German strong man with, um, strange proclivities whose body was found in Boston Harbor in 1955."

Will's whole body shook when he laughed. Making Will genuinely laugh-- not a wry chuckle or sardonic snort, but a real honest to God laugh-- was so rare that Nelson always savored the sound like it was the New York orchestra. He joins in.

The waitress brings them their plates of bacon and eggs, and their laughter dies down.

"It's funny how they all thought my costume was some sex thing," William says, voice light, but there's a slight menace to his words. "Think that says more about them than me."

He's dying to ask William the meaning behind his costume. That was one thing they never discussed during their relationship. Yet he hesitates. Maybe they didn't discuss it for a reason.

"Nothing against Hollis," Will goes on, "but he never knew when to keep his mouth shut."

"I had to call him on the verge of tears to stop him from publishing more details about...about us," Nelson says. It hadn't been the verge of tears, but William doesn't need to know that.

He and Will rarely broached the topic of "us," never defining the relationship that consumed Nelson's life for sixteen years. They had to keep it secret, for one. For another, Will was a married father for most of it. Friendship is what he called it in his will. "He was a very good friend," is how he explained it whenever anyone questioned him about Hooded Justice. He always hated it, just a little bit, but that hatred paled in comparison to the terror of being found out.

Will frowns. "Yeah. Sally wasn't too happy with some of the stuff he said."

"Mm," Nelson goes. "That's a bit of a pot-kettle situation. Sally basically outed me in her latest interview, without naming any names. It's was still abundantly clear who she meant, though."

"She probably didn't think it mattered, since we all thought you were dead." Will says that last part with an edge to his voice.

"I don't really blame Sally," he says, eager to avoid that conversation again. Keep it light, Nelly. "Did I use that term correctly? Outed?"

"How should I know?" Will says through a mouthful of eggs.

"You're the one who lived in San Francisco."

"Yeah, but I wasn't hanging around that scene. Not that much, anyway. I know as much about the counterculture as you do."

Nelson feels warm, and it has nothing to do with his coffee (which is lukewarm now, anyway). He has no claim on Will's heart, and it certainly isn't his business if he's had any dalliances (Lord knows Nelson hasn't refrained). Still. He's glad all the same.

Will glances at the window. "You know, it's a good thing for the young ones coming up. That they have a community that's putting up a fight. Maybe it won't be as hard for them as it was for us."

He's surprised that Will's bringing it up. This is the closest he's ever heard his former lover come to acknowledging that he was a man involved with men. Not that he ever expected him to; after all, Nelson rarely verbalized it either, thanks to his years of keeping it secret. Even now, as an old nameless man with nothing left to lose, he couldn't completely let go of his fear.

"Yes," he mumbles, "it is."

Will insists on paying. "Technically it's your money," Will says when Nelson resists. Now that brunch is over, he's not sure what to do with himself. At the diner, they had a good report going. But now what happens when there's nothing to do? Will William come to his senses and get sick of the tag-along?

"Wanna see how I spent your money?" Will asks. They journey through New York's mobbed streets, as much an adventure as his days soldiering through the jungle.

Will explains that he auctioned off the Minutemen memorabilia  for the Southern Poverty Law Center. "That was a good idea that you had," he comments, "so I did it. Altogether, it came too nearly a million."

William doesn't mention the one piece of memorabilia he's kept, so Nelson doesn't either.

They stop at a grand old movie theater, the kind that was popular when Nelson was a boy. It looks as if it's been recently touched up, casting an impressive figure. William looks at him expectantly.

"You bought a theater?" Nelson says. Well, it makes sense; Will was always a cinephile.

"And fixed it up," he says proudly. "When I first started working here, it was a dump. Now it's the most profitable historical theater in the borough."

William gives him the tour.

"We play all kinds of films here. The modern stuff, but we also show classics. There's theme nights, too. Some of the kids get all dressed up for some of the showings, but I don't know much about that. If we hurry, there's a showing I want you to see."

William takes him to a projector room. There's a smattering of people in the theater below, maybe a dozen scattered along the wide rows. A young white man with wiry long black hair sits by the projector, loading up a reel.

"Mr. Reeves?" he says, more politely than his appearance would suggest. He looks curiously at Nelson.

"You can take an early lunch break, Don," Will says. "I've got it from here."

"Thank you, Mr. Reeves!" the youth says. He doesn't hesitate to take him up on the offer.

The movie starts. It's a black and white, silent picture that takes Nelson back to his childhood. A man chases another on horseback, his face obscured by a hood.

"This is that film you always talked about," Nelson says. "Trust in the Law, was it?"

"I'm surprised you remember," Wilal says. Nelson's a little offended by that. But only a little, seeing what an ass he'd been before.

He also remembers that a young Will was watching this movie when a race riot broke out in Tulsa. William mentioned it once, early in their relationship. At the time, Nelson privately assumed that Will was exaggerating; he was only a child when it happened, so surely it couldn't have been as bad as he said. Or perhaps, if it was bad, than it was somehow...justified. Now, the memory sickens him. He wishes he could go back in time and knock some sense into his younger self.

"Didn't it inspire you to become Hooded Justice?" he asks. The flicking black and white light casts shadows on their faces.

"Partly," Will says. He looks directly at Nelson. "I never did tell you what made me put on the mask that first time."

Nelson feels cold. There's a shift in Will's tone that seems to change the very air around them. It feels ominous.

"It started with Cyclops," he says with a faraway look in his eyes. "Though I didn't know it at the time. I arrested a white man for throwing a Molotov cocktail at a Jewish deli. When I brought him in, some other officers took him off my hands, saying they'd book him. Days later, I saw the same man walking free.

"I was told not to question it. But I couldn't let it go. So one night, when I was walking home, three of my fellow officers jumped me in an alley. They beat me, forced me into their car, and drove to a secluded area. They tied my hands together, put a bag over my head and a noose around my neck, and strung me up from a tree."

"What?!" Nelson gasps. His hands ball into fists, clenching his pants leg. How is this the first time he's hearing about it?

"I struggled and kicked. I felt myself chocking to death. I was so sure I was going to die. But they cut me down. I was a crumpled mess on the ground, sputtering and coughing, when the officer yanked the bag off. He got right up in my face like this," William leans so close that his breath's in Nelson's ear.

He whispers what the officer told him that night, directly into his ear. Nelson feels sick to his stomach. He wants this to stop now. But willful ignorance won't change what's been done to Will.

Will leans back. "I walked home in a trance, with the noose around my neck and the bag in my hands. Couldn't tell you what I was thinking, even if I wanted to. Guess you could call it being on autopilot. As I got close to home, I heard a lady screaming in an alleyway. A couple was being robbed. I didn't think. I ripped eye holes in the bag and put it back on. Then I beat the robbers to a bloody pulp. They weren't the ones who wronged me, but it felt so good to act. To have power. To bring justice, even if it was justice for something as small as a mugging.

"The next day, I saw it in the newspaper. They called me a hero. And well, you know the rest."

William looks off at the screen, where the townsfolk cheer for Bass Reeves.

"William..." Nelson says weakly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Without looking, he says, "Would it have made a difference back then?"

He wants to say yes. Yes, of course it would have. If Will had told Nelson about being lynched, for God's sake, then Nelson would've cared. Even when he was at his most racist, he still would've believed the man he loved. Wouldn't he?

But then...he'd had doubts about Tulsa. He hadn't believed Will then. William tried to tell him many things over the years, tried to open his eyes, yet Nelson remained willfully blind until it was too late. Until Will's absence finally caused him to reevaluate those beliefs. So if William had told him about being lynched in 1939, would it have been enough to finally make Nelson change? Or would it have been another Tulsa?

"I don't know," he croaks, mouth dry.

"Yeah, well, this way we never have to know the answer," Will mutters.

The words resonate with Nelson. If they knew the answer, then well, maybe they wouldn't be having this conversation right now. There were some things that William could never forgive. Perhaps they both needed the deniability.

Hesitantly, Nelson puts his hand on William's knee. William lets him. "I'm so sorry, Will. I'm sorry it happened, and I'm sorry that you couldn't tell me. I should have been there for you. I should've...God, I wish I could change so much. And I want to kill those officers."

William finally looks at him.

"Don't worry," he grunts, "I killed most of them, the night of the warehouse fire. When I called you about Cyclops mind control."

"Oh," Nelson mumbles. Regret hits him all over again. Why hadn't he listened to William back then? To think how different there lives might have been if he had. "I should've listened to you. I should've helped you get the bastards. I'm--I'm sorry I was such a racist little prick."

"I always know you're serious when you start cussing," Will says wryly.

Nelson snorts. It comes out more like a sniffle.

"Don't tell me you're crying again," Will says, but he can't help it. The nicer William is to him, the worse he feels. We wishes Will would scream at him or strike him, anything that would make them even. The house doesn't feel like enough. The money isn't enough.

"I'm sorry," he says, again, rubbing at his tear-stained cheeks. "I didn't--I'm not--"

"You're not making any sense," he says. "Nelson, calm down."

"I just want you know," he says shakily, "that it wasn't the mask."

"What?"

"It wasn't the mask I fell in love with. That's not true. Maybe I didn't show it the right way, maybe I was too selfish and blind to treat you the way you deserved, but it was never the mask. I really did love you, Will. Please believe me."

"Nelly," Will says softly.There's no anger in his beautiful brown eyes, no hatred. They're softer than usual, showing something that Nelson won't dare read.

Will's hand cups the back of his head, fingers gripping his hair in a way that's a little rough and a little tender, just like he remembers. For a moment, they stay like that, faces bent towards each other, eyes locked on one another.

He's not sure who initiates it, but when their lips meet it's surprisingly gentle. Their first time was all raw passion; their last, bittersweet. This is something new entirely. William pulls him closer, deepening the kiss, as the movie plays in the background.

Nelson can't bring himself to care about anything else.

[vaultofqueenorion]

Review of The Handmaid’s Tale

This book hit me like a ton of bricks. I get a sick feeling every time I think seriously of it, and it chilled me all the way to the bone. And yet, it is such an incredible book, in all its psychological horror. I think the worst part is that I see attributes and slivers of the book in everyday life. There’s a truth to it, and it doesn’t ring hollow. 

Read the book. But read the book only if you can stomach it, because it is truly gruelling. I would never call this a good book. Interesting, observant, thought-provoking, yes. But it is not one that has ever or ever will bring me entertainment.

Trigger warnings / TW / Content warnings: the book goes into detached detail with rape, forced pregnancy, murder, hanging, angry mobs tearing apart living people, shootings, killings, massacres and total oppression. Do not read if you are sensitive to any of these subjects. 

The Title

The title befits the book in two ways; first, it is the tale of Offred (as we know her only), a handmaiden to the Commander. The Commander is likely Frederick R. Waterford, as is discussed in the epilogue of the book, but that is never confirmed. 

What is a handmaiden, you ask, if you have never seen the popular Hulu series or heard of the book. A handmaiden is a woman (girl in the book to remove agency) that is ‘bound’ to a married couple who are unable to conceive children - in the book, we hear only of the whereabouts of the handmaidens of the Commanders and their Wives. 

The handmaiden is stripped of her name, her family, her identity, and she has to serve the couple - she is forced to give them children in a twisted ritual that apparently has root in biblical texts. Basically, she is raped in the presence of the couple in order to bear children for barren women who could otherwise not do so. 

The title also refers to the name of the ‘item’ which is a series of cassettes written into a manuscript discussed at the conference of the ‘Twelfth Symposium on Gileadean Studies’ in the year 2195. 

It is a has-been; a recollection of the events recorded by the same woman from whom we read the story, and the speaker at the conference makes several jokes throughout his speech to keep the mood light and the audience entertained. 

It is a detached study in the history of America when it crumbled to a totalitarian patriarchal society that oppressed women in drastical terms and through drastic means. 

The Characters

Offred is meek yet strong-willed. Outspoken yet scared. It is as if she lives as a chameleon, never quite touching the ground of who she really is, but instead latching on to the world and society around her. 

The most remarkable thing about her is, in fact, her normality. She wonders, she becomes angry and yet she doesn’t do anything. Because what can one person do against overwhelming odds? When the other option is death, do you choose to live in submission?

The quote is one that I feel sums up her character. Instead of raging at the world like the heroes we see in stories, she tries to change the very core of her being to align with the wishes of new society. 

She does what many ordinary people would do, simply because fear is one damn powerful motivator. She feels she has no other choice. And she holds on to hope, throughout it all. Hope that she might - just might - see her daughter or her husband again. Hope that she might break free. 

We never do find out whether she finds absolution for that hope or not. 

The Commander lives a parallel life to the handmaidens. In all actuality it seems he lives a parallel life to the women of the dystopian world. He says that he wants Offred to have a pleasant or at least bearable existence, but what he does is that he gets her to indulge in things that he wants to do. He dresses her up and parades her around in secret bars where other girls are ‘working’ as if he owns her - which shows us that he kind of believes that he does. 

Even when he gives Offred something - a magazine - he doesn’t really think of how it is for her.

It is not only ignorance - it is also a lack of wanting to know. He simply doesn’t care enough about her existence to know that she cannot do so. Or he pretends to, playing the ‘good guy’ who doesn’t have anything to do with the hellscape Offred lives in. 

The thing is, this kind of ignorance is commonly participated in throughout society - just take a look at the men who say that they suddenly ‘understand how women feel’ when they pose as women online. Or the white people who ‘never knew how bad POC had it’ because they simply never bothered to look. 

It just hits a little too close to home, that’s all.

Serena Joy / the Commander’s wife is a chilling person. To be a woman, to see what is being done to other women, and yet still somehow hating them for it, as if it isn’t the higher up around her - including her own husband - who have orchestrated this. 

And then there’s this quote:

It does have several meanings to it. To Joy it means that she longs for children, that she wants them so badly that she will do anything in her power to get them. To Offred it means that if she cannot provide a strange family with children through rape, she will be shipped off to a faraway place where she will likely starve to death

Perspective, indeed.

Offred wants so desperately for her friend and the personification of the rebellion in her mind, Moira, to go out in a ball of fire. To burn the whole damn thing to the ground and either walk away, a cigarette in hand, or die trying. 

It seems that there is something in her that longs to be near her, as if Moira is the ideal that she strives towards, and when she never hears from her or sees her again, there is a melancholy and yet an emptiness to her words. 

She talks about their relationship once, before it all went to hell, and this quote is from that:

Luke. Luke, Luke, Luke. Offred misses Luke, and of course she does. He was her husband, the man she was waiting on while he cheated on his then partner, and the father of Offred’s daughter. And yet. 

I hated him so much. 

Just the mention of him sent spiders crawling down my spine, and really, the cheating was bad enough. Even worse was the small signs of misogyny - him saying that Offred losing her job was no big deal, that they would get through it together. Him joking with her about it - about how she could stay at home now, how he would have the power. 

No, I really didn’t like that casual display of superiority. 

Offred’s daughter is part of the next generation of Wives. Sent off to some lucky childless family, this eight year old girl will be groomed and bred into the oppression around her, and at some point, she will stop questioning the world. 

After all, as Aunt Lydia said to Offred:

Offred’s mother is a full-blooded feminist, which causes her to be shipped off to die early on. She’s an abortion advocate, and one of her most telling quotes is:

As a reply to when Offred in the past says that Luke’s teasings are nothing. But the mother understands. Understands the work that it has taken to get this far, and the work that needs to be done, lest they slip back into oppression.

And you know what? People languished in their complacency at the time of the coup, and the totalitarian society crept into the shadows, settling more and more and consuming the light as time passed by.

The Plot

The plot is really not the remarkable part of this story. Yes, Offred goes to town, befriends a fellow handmaid (this one is part of the resistance, peeps!), attends the ceremony, is taken to the Commander’s office, then later to the forbidden bar. 

The places aren’t so much important as what Offred observes. The small injustices, the doctors and scientists handing from the Wall, the Particicution in which the handmaids tear a man apart because he has allegedly raped someone (which is then told to be untrue; he is part of the resistance group, and handmaids murdering him with their bare hands is a good way for the totalitarian government to get rid of him). 

In truth, the handmaids have no real chance of getting themselves out, if they do not collaborate with Mayday, the resistance group. In truth, they are stuck in their miserable places, and that is why one of the earliest quotes from Offred is so chilling:

This is also why the handmaids live with the bare minimum of utilities - they are watched as they bathe, no light fixtures are present, matches are forbidden, knives unsupervised are forbidden. 

Because so many have killed themselves in desperation to get out of the hell that they have found themselves in. 

The Language

Margaret Atwood especially puts focus on the horror of the world that Offred lives in through two means; the conference / historical notes at the end of the story which brings a light and humorous view on the totalitarian society, and the on-the-verge-but-not-quite tone of hopelessness that Offred uses to describe her tales through. 

Aunt Lydia is often the catalyst for this kind of hopelessness. In the times where Offred tried to convince herself that this really is better. That the world is not quite as bleak, and that she actually has it better now than before.

It is a form of brainwashing that is already beginning to form. And what else can she do, one might think. She has to survive somehow. 

And yet, she brings herself to rekindle a fire once in a while. To open the lid on the anger, the resentment, the fierce cruelty of the world that she is faced with. It is something that she does internally, and one of the more prominent moments of this is when she is faced with the Commander in his office. 

The butter in this scenario refers to a tiny rebellion - an act of survival in a way that goes against the schemes and oppression of the world around the handmaidens. The most telling thing is that he laughs at her - as if the way of coping, the secret tips that are being shared between the handmaidens is nothing more than child’s play.

And it probably is to him. 

With a good standing, a good life and a sweet deal compared to the majority of this society that he helped create, he would never think to ‘stoop’ to such methods. 

The oppression is strong in this one, is all I have to say. 

Notes and worthy mentions

The Ceremony. Ooooh, the Ceremony. Of the most convoluted, terrible scenes I have ever had the displeasure of reading, this detached form of rape, explained as the rape is occuring, was terrifying and horrifying and I really, truly never want to read anything like it again.

Also, Offred calls it something else. She doesn’t want to call it rape, because she feels as if she had a choice - not much choice, but still choice. 

One thing that ticked me off was the mention of Mayday and the Underground Femaleroad - the latter a smuggling ring made to get the women out of their horrible positions. 

And the person at the historical conference calls it a Frailroad. Yes, it’s a shortening of female and road, but dang. And the worst thing is? It is totally realistic as to how it would probably be called - just look at how we treat the witch trials or say feminazi if a feminist speaks up about something that’s a ‘little too radical’. I call BS, is all, even if it just goes to show that Margaret Atwood knows what she’s doing when she writes. 

In conclusion

It is not a good book. It is magnificent in the way it portrays something that many women feel at least slivers of and amplifies them in a way that pierces your heart and leaves you dangling at its mercy. 

Books are meant to entertain, yes, but they are also meant to challenge, to inquire, and to make you think. Rarely has a book stayed with me for this long after I have read it, and rarely have I seen more parallels from the world we live in capable of being drawn to this hellscape that Margaret Atwood has created.

There is truth in this horrifically fantastic book. And this means that I cannot help but give it five paws out of five. The alternative would have been to have given it zero, but the thing is that I have seen society in such a new light after reading this that it wouldn’t have been fair. 

[fics-not-tragedies]

Vanishing point: Chapter Three

prologue - one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight

This chapter wouldn’t be written without @ladyreapermc​ who helped me A LOT with the plot for this one, so thank you so so much darling, you’re wonderful!

Words: 3559; Warnings: smut; Summary: Juliet confesses to John about her biggest secret and when they’re back on Continental grounds she finishes one business all by herself.

Readers tag list:

@spookier-than-u; @sparrowsparrow; @oreofenyloetyloamina; @derangedcupcake; @geostarr; @catsmieow; @wickedlangdon; @bodhi-black; @bugalouie; @onebatch--twobatch; @fandom-lover-4; @mikaneonox; @drunkonyellow; @spadesandaces2342; @harrisongslimited; @a--1--1--3; @hhighkey; @lunilate; @i-cant-remember-my-old-login; @sgt-morgan; @coloursunlimited; @childrenofthegun; @weminiaturestrawberry; @silverlambcaptain; @scarletmoon83; @howtoruin-someones-perfect-day; @krazycags01; @charlottebonnie; @moonlit-raven-haven; @girl-at-the-verge;

“I bet you shot a gun before?”

Juliet blinked, opened her mouth to answer, but closed it, blinking few times before she decided to say something out loud, “Why are you asking?”

Wick had been silent throughout the whole ride back to Continental until now, rarely looked at her when she slid onto the seat right next to him, the drive felt like years instead of mere minutes and she wasn’t watching how he was handling his car gracefully, instead of that her eyes were glued to the road. The veil of silence that fell upon them made her question all of the things she was planning, making her doubt if they were right.

“Out of pure curiosity” he mumbled, when they stopped right in front of Continental. Surprisingly he opened the door for her, giving her a helping hand in getting out of the vehicle.

“There’s nothing pure about curiosity” she said when John gave his car keys to the valet boy, “Of course, but only the small ones... I feel like Santino deserves to be killed with something bigger.”

“So you want to shoot him with a big one, huh?” they both walked into the reception, the Concierge giving them both a small nod, before he slid them their room keys placed on a piece of paper across the front desk without even saying a word and moved to serve another pair of clients.

“Yes, but perhaps stick it up his perfect Italian ass firstly.”

John handed her the key to her room along with the small note, “Perfect ass? Do you still have feelings for him?” his eyebrow twitched slightly, the movement didn’t went unnoticed by her and she took the key from his hand making sure their palms will touch.

“The one and only thing I feel for him is raging hate” she looked down at the piece of paper before squeezing it in her hand, “and all I want is to destroy him.”

“But did you ever shot somebody?”

She swallowed, licking her lips, her hand squeezing around the piece of paper tighter, “I haven’t shot just somebody...” she sighed, it felt like he was after something, that he wanted to know everything about the circumstances that made her fire a gun, especially because they were supposed to work together.

“I hope you’re not trying to keep something from me, Juliet?” he drawled, the way her name rolled off his lips was unbearable for her, made her knees weak and all she wanted now was John taking her from behind on one of the leather chairs in the lobby, “You know me, Juliet, if you wish to betray me better do it now.”

She inhaled deeply, biting down on her lip, Wick’s eyes following the slow movement of her teeth sinking into her plump bottom lip, still covered in the rogue shade of her dark lipstick, as she hesitated again, a gasp leaving her mouth. The see-through material of her dress was like an invitation for him to stare at her chest for longer that he ought to, but he just couldn’t help herself, even though he knew it wasn’t polite to stare at women like he was. Of course her outfit wasn’t an invitation to behave like less of a man, but there was something captivating in every piece she wore, no matter if it was something overly revealing one like this or a pair of simple black jeans. She looked like a goddess and he had to admit it.

Juliet was well aware that there was no way she could lie to him, “I tried” she said, then when the shade of impatience appeared across his face, she quickly added “but I didn’t hit him… not directly.” With another hard swallow, she decided to speak before another awkward pause could overtake her “It was basically just a graze… a self-defense maneuver.”

His eyebrows shot up, the surprise on his face worth more than a thousand words, “Who?”

She rolled her eyes and gasped again, “It was when I was still with Santino, I…”

He wasn’t listening to her mumbles, all he wanted was to get his question answered directly without playing any games. “Who was sit, Juliet?” he asked, his tone able to cut through diamonds.

“Him” her eyes were looking everywhere but John, gaze dancing on the furniture in the background. 

“Santino?!” he asked her and she just silently nodded in response. John swore he could see a hint of fear flickering across her face, “Is this the reason why you left?”

“No, it wasn’t the main reason. He thought he could own me at some point” she tried her best to stop her lips from trembling, to speak as calm as she could. The way he was still staring at her, waiting for further explanation was making her even more anxious, “Thought he could keep me locked in a fucking golden cage, like I was his pet or something.”

His jaw tensed, stare darkening, a hard swallow made his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, “What happened?”

Juliet quickly shook her head few times, like she tried to get rid of the tears that were forming in her eyes, “After I killed his two henchmen who scarred me, because he told them to do so, when he thought I was the one who betrayed him... I-I grabbed his gun but I’d never shot the one he owned before, I wasn’t thinking in that moment, so I doubt I even tried to aim properly. I just… it was a moment.”

He nodded slowly, “But…  you wanted to kill him?” he managed to ask, his mind absent now, too focused on forming a list of reasons to kill the youngest D’Antonio heir.

“I think that was my main plan, but I was too consumed by my anger, I couldn’t think straight… the bullet I shot just grazed his collarbone, I bet he still has a scar in that place. That’s why I stopped you in first place John, because the anger took the hold of you and you were out of your mind. I made that mistake earlier and I just couldn’t sit and watch you do it too” she finally looked him in the eye, his gaze still dark, somehow it scared her.

Despite the fact that he felt respect for her, for what he did both times, he tried to ignore his growing attraction trying to focus on showing his power, “I’d make sure he regret everything he did.”

Her eyes widened, “No, no, we’re both into it now” she blurted out, “Don’t exclude me from the pleasure of hunting him down.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her, “I know we have the same issues with him, but it feels like he harmed you way seriously…”

“Nothing even happened” she assured him, “he didn’t hurt me directly.”

“But he fucking did it indirectly, he told his men to harm you, to cut your back… to scar you for the rest of your life and that’s not the proper way to care for a woman like you…”

“John…”

One look was enough to silence her. He adjusted his bloodied tie, smoothed down the tactical material of his raven suit, shifting his body, moving his weight from one leg to another.

What he did over time was learning to disregard anything that was somehow disagreeable, but still he had to admit she was right. There was no need and no use for his overly emotional reaction, but somehow he felt like it was needed.

“Are you… worried? About… me?”

His eyes focused on her face, staring back into the depths of her eyes, “Do I have a reason to be worried?”

She swallowed, “Can I do anything to…” Juliet shifted closer to him, placing her free hand on his arm, holding her breath in anticipation for any kind of reaction.

John leaned closer to her, his lips close to her ear, “Perhaps not here and not now, everyone is staring at us and I hate that. Do you fancy a drink?” he asked her like it was the most usual thing in their community.

“The universal medicine for your wounds and my shattered heart?” Wick just nodded his head and she laughed a little, letting him lead the way to the bar.

The eyes of everyone were on them, but she didn’t gave a single fuck about it. She knew that it was the dress that was gathering all of the stares, which was fueling her ego, making her think that she was the one that mattered in those seconds when they both were parading up to the bar and sitting comfortably on the high bar stools.

“Do you have any other secrets?” he leaned onto the dark wooden counter with his elbow, so he could face her.

“I am full of secrets John” the bartender didn’t really had to ask them about their orders, just placed a full glass of bourbon and another one filled with perfectly chilled prosecco, “my life was based on mysteries, that’s why I’m still here” Wick slid one gold coin towards him and he accepted it without saying anything.

She sipped her drink slowly, her eyes scanning his face, trying to figure out what he’s thinking right now. There’s something dark in his eyes, something she can’t name and somehow she gets scared that he became overly worried after hearing what happened.

The bartender slid another note right next to her now empty glass and nonchalantly she took it into her hands, her eyes widening at the sight of the handwritten letters.

“I’m afraid I have to leave for now” she read the words scribbled on the piece of paper again, “but why don’t you wait for me in your room, I’ll meet you there” she crunched the paper in her hand before leaving him by the bar with a little wink and disappeared from his view behind one of the columns, before walking into the hall, her tall heels clicking on the marble flooring in front of the elevators.

Juliet entered the brightly lit elevator and clicked the button with the floor number, looking at herself in the mirror. The bit of paper she still had in her hand seemed to burn a hole in her skin. She was still looking fierce, her lipstick wasn’t smudged, the way the material that was barely there was hugging her body made her look like a goddess.

The doors opened with a sound and she stepped into the hall, noticing that the doors she was supposed to walk through were guarded by Ares. She looked at her with something in the eyes that resembled pity mixed with shame and without singing anything to Juliet she just took one step to the side giving her access to the doors.

She wasn’t bothered with knocking, so she just pressed the door handle and sauntered inside. To her surprise the lights were dimmed, something soft was humming from the record player by the window and she moved further, her heels sinking in the fluff of the carpet. Doors closed behind her with a clicking sound and for one moment she thought it all was a set up.

Until a familiar hand gripped her by the wrist and pulled backwards, “Bella” voice rasped and he was spun around, so she could face him.

She let out a shaky breath, her face flushed with embarrassment, “I know I shouldn’t come here…”

The words nearly made his superiority go up in smoke, his hand trembling a little and he tried to hold her gaze and appear untouched, “Bella you have no shame as it seems…” he made a pause, swallowing hard, bringing his hand to the back of her neck, her body curved towards him instantly with merely a graze of his touch and he closed his fingers around her neck, gripping tightly, “Are you lonely? Did you missed me? That’s why you’re here belissima?”

She whimpered when he squeezed her neck, the sudden switch of mood she flicked in him was almost too much.

“I asked you a question pupa, please be a good girl like you were.”

“Y-Yes…” she whispered.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward, he chuckled darkly, let go of her and walked over to the leather armchair, sinking onto it, before nodding downwards to his lap, “Just suck it, so che vuoi.”

Juliet bit her lip, unable to believe how easily it all went by now and she lost no time dropping to her knees to undo his belt buckle, watching with wide eyes as he reached into his tailored suit trousers and pulled out his cock, looked at her, unmoved, making a barely noticeable nod.

She took in a deep breath, gasping loudly when he forced her down onto his length when she wasn’t moving fast enough and almost choked around his cock when he forced it down her throat and she gripped his thigh, nails digging into his skin through the suit, her eyes watering from the burning sensation.

A low guttural groan escaped his lips, his fingers winding tight into her hair and just when she felt like she couldn’t hold on, he pulled her up, looking at her with wild eyes.

He let her breath for few moments before he forced his cock down her throat again, growling loudly when she swirled her tongue around him, her lips wrapped around his shaft tightly and she swallowed hard around him, again, again and he became worried for a moment thinking that he took it too far, letting her take another breath and he groaned again when she kept her lips wrapped tightly around him, before his tip slipped out of her mouth. She was panting loudly and looking up at him with wide eyes.

“You wanted my cock, bella, so fucking take it in your pretty little mouth…” he drawled, unimpressed, pulling lightly at the handful of his her he gripped tightly in his hand, his jaw clenching as he was desperately trying to be quiet, to not let out any strangled moan, “Just don’t leave any lipstick marks sul mio cazzo, pupa.”

She breathed out shakily, “Santino, I-I…”

Her cheeks were bright red she was about to say something back, but she was too scared to disobey and took his cock into her mouth again and pursing her lips to merely suck him with the inside of them, starting to bob her head up and down once he let her, her throat closing around him when he kept her pushed down to stay in her hot mouth, groaning quietly, his head thrown back but his eyes still focused on her movements.

He enjoyed this too much and he wasn’t going to miss a second of it, “Il problemi, pupa?”

She gasped, her heart racing as she looked back at him, “I forgot how big you were, Santino…”

He groaned, her words fueling his ego, yet his body was still tense, “Tutto qui, pupa… I forgot how much I liked it…” he drawled, fingers still tangled tightly in her dark silky hair, as he pushed his cock past her warm lips again, a louder moan escaping his lips.

Juliet whimpered, doing her best to accommodate to his size and pleasure him the way he deserved, moaning around him desperately when she heard his reaction, sending vibrations up his skin, fueling his groans even more. She was gagging to hear him, hear how good she made him feel, forcing him to lose control even more and she drew back to look up at him, slowly starting to stroke him, “How you like it, amore?” she asked, spreading the precum and her own saliva on his length.

His eyes darkened, “Non prendermi in giro, puppa” he growled through his gritted teeth, swallowing hard.

She hummed, licking her lips. “Why don’t you moan louder for me, Santino?”

He gripped her hair tightly, but then chuckled a little, “Mmmm, I might, pupa… but only if you work hard enough.”

Moving her head down instantly, she swallowed around him, whining when he pulled on her hair again and she took him back into her mouth, starting to bob her head faster, trying not to choke on his cock, desperate to impress him.

“Does this make you wet pupa? Are you dripping under this dirty little dress? Would your panties be soaked, if you’re even wearing any?” Santino groaned despite his efforts in trying to remain silent, his teeth pressing hard into his bottom lip, trying hard not to lose himself in the superb feeling of her hot mouth wrapped tightly around his length.

He was considering cumming on her face, marking his territory, showing her where she really belonged and he knew she would love it and he was losing his mind with barely the image in his head, knowing to which room she’d be wandering to after she leaves him again, this time forever.

When she started massaging him with her hand where her mouth didn’t reach a blush crept onto her face at the thought of him being overly possessive. It was the way he was acting right now and the fact that she was never like that back in their days. When she met him he was younger and way more… soft. It seemed like the killing business hardened him.

Santino’d slip up and moan every now and then, the way his hips reluctantly bucked upwards into her mouth making her gag around him.

It was him getting closer to orgasm, but she was mimicking the volume of his groans, the sound of her lips on his cock, the sounds she made were almost louder than his suppressed moans of pleasure, making him gasp desperately when she came up for air again but her hand instantly took over the job and before he could put her in her place again she leaned down, kept her wide eyes on his as she took solely his tip into her mouth, sucking needily on him.

He was getting close, half of the pleasure how badly she wanted him and it drew him in so much that he could hardly punish her for disobeying him, obsessed with the innocent expression on her face while the most obscene sounds rose from her lips, getting him closer and closer.

“Are you going to cum for me, Santino?” she coaxed, her eyes begging as much as her swollen lips.

Juliet was stroking him again, drew his attention down to the contrast of her flawlessly painted nails against his cock as her long fingers flew up and down his shaft, then went to massage his balls and his eyes snapped back up, mesmerized by her confidence, by her shameless need.

“I’ll do anything you want, bello…” she drawled, “anything for you…”

He groaned, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

She licked her lips, eyes fixed on his, “Just relax…” she whispered, the words rolling off her tongue in the dulcet tone of her voice, “I’m not going to kill you now” her hand gave his cock a gentle squeeze, then started moving faster again, “but I know there are many women willing to kill to be in my place right now…”

The way she hummed, lowering her head again made him wheeze, “Mmmm, yes, Santi, you’ve got full control, so powerful…” she knew he was close but she wanted to make sure that his ego was fueled properly,. “You’ve got everyone bowing down to you, including me…”

He forced her head down again, moaning louder, “Just fucking take me, finire quello che hai iniziato, pupa...” he groaned loudly, his head dropping backwards again.

She struggled to breathe around him but slurped and swallowed around him again, swirling her tongue, sucking eagerly and she felt him twitch at the back of her throat, a low groan of relief falling from his lips as he came and held her down, kept his pulsing length buried inside her hot mouth as she drank it all down.

Just as she felt like she couldn’t hold on, he drew her head back by her hair, the intensity of his blues eyes locking with hers, making her heart skip a beat before it started to match the pulsing emptiness between her legs, fast and overwhelmed and she looked down at his cock, licking her lips, satisfied that despite her promise his whole length was covered in lipstick stains.

The door opened and tall, dark haired woman in skimpy dress walked inside.

Juliet raised to her feet and leaned over Santino, slapping him with such force his head flew to the side, the sound of her hand meeting the skin on his rosy cheek bouncing of the walls.

“So you needed me only as a warm up? Before…” she scanned the woman with rage in her eyes, “before the main course.” Her hand shot up to slap him again and he flinched in the seat, having nowhere to run and her hand meet his face again leaving another red imprint, “Your taste in women got more fucked up with age” Juliet said while walking past the woman and through the still opened door, walking slowly to the hallway, then closing them behind herself with a loud thud.

[talatomaz]

hate burns | dinah drake x fem!reader

a/n: i saw this prompt and this idea popped into my head and I thought who better to write about than the loml aka dinah drake. (set sometime during season 5 but thea’s still a part of team arrow)

X = your vigilante name

prompts: “after you lose everything good in your life, all you can do is laugh. laugh because you somehow managed to die along the way, but can’t remember where”

warnings: mentions of death/loss, blood - inadvertently. angst

word count: 1.8k

masterlist | request list | request rules

reader has psychokinesis and got her powers from the particle accelerator explosion and works as a vigilante on team arrow

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

You and the rest of Team Arrow stepped out of the lift and walked into the Arrow cave where you were all greeted by Felicity and Curtis.

“Great work tonight, guys.” Curtis said as you walked up to the computer centre.

Curtis used to be out in the field with you guys as Mr Terrific but recently decided that his skills were better spent at the Arrow cave, alongside Felicity, also known as Overwatch, who was basically your eyes, ears, and brains, when you were out catching criminals.

“Wasn’t many criminals out tonight. They must all be scared of Green Arrow.” You joked, making Dinah and Rene smirk as Oliver rolled his eyes at you.

“Nice one, hoss.”

“Any more activity, Felicity?” Oliver asked, looking at the former who shook her head.

“No, y/n’s right. Streets have been quiet tonight. Probably because of Prometheus.” She paused, looking at Oliver.

“Uh, or because they’re scared of you, Oliver. They’re like ‘Ahh, Green Arrow.’”

She rambled, trying to explain herself in her usual ‘Felicity Smoak’ way.

“Great. You guys can go home and have an early night th-”

Oliver began before being interrupted by a loud beeping coming from one of Felicity’s police scanners.

“Hold that thought.” Felicity said.

The latter ran back to her station and began typing,

“There’s been a break-in at Kord Industries and when the guy tried to escape, he shot and injured a couple of SCPD officers.”

“Where’s the guy heading?” Dinah asked from beside you.

“Uh, traffic cameras have him heading down Ford and 7th.”

Oliver grabbed his quiver as the rest of you geared up again, “Diggle’s with Lyla so I’ll have Speedy meet us instead, let’s go.”

You all donned your masks and followed Oliver into the lift and out into the streets of Star City.

***

“Hard right, now.”

You and Black Canary were following the masked man on Dinah’s motorbike with you straddling her back.

“I think I know where he’s going.” You shouted to Dinah, and to the others who were on comms.

“Felicity, check if there’s an abandoned building around here. I think it’s called-”

“Bullerfield Track Industries.” Felicity finished, over the comms. “I’ve analysed this guy’s route and all directions indicate he’s going there. You’re right, X.”

When you first joined the team, a year ago, it was comprised of completely different members.

The OGs, as Felicity used to call them, consisted of Oliver, Felicity, Diggle, Thea, Ray Palmer, Curtis and the late Laurel Lance.

And each of these members had their own individual codenames so, after learning about your psychokinesis, Curtis aptly nicknamed you ‘X’ after Charles Xavier from X-Men.

When Dinah stopped the motorbike, the rest of the team, including Wild Dog, Speedy and Green Arrow, arrived and Oliver gave you all a quick rundown of the plan.

You and Dinah were to cover the front entrances, Rene and Thea, the back, and Oliver, in true Green Arrow fashion, would enter the abandoned industrial factory from above.

“I want to know what he stole and why.”

Dinah whispered to you as you both walked into the factory, cautiously keeping an eye out for the criminal.

“It’s a neuromorphic chip. He can basically use it to steal sensory data even if it hasn’t been processed. If manipulated in the right way, he might be able to use it to control people.”

You looked at Dinah when she didn’t respond and saw her smiling.

“What?”

“You spend way too much time with Felicity and Curtis.”

“You jealous, Dee?” You countered making Dinah smirk a devilish grin.

Though you and Dinah were never officially together, you had had a few flings after rough nights, and Curtis and Felicity said that you had a ‘Will they, won’t they?’ thing going on.

Instead of responding, she nudged you to look ahead and you saw a man who was stood at a small metal table that held only a computer.

‘Hands up.” Dinah ordered and the man stilled.

“Well, if it isn’t the cavalry.” He said, his back still towards you both.

You stilled at his voice and narrowed your eyes.

It was eerily familiar.

It couldn’t be.

Your suspicions were confirmed when the man turned around and it took almost everything in you not to throw him against the wall and kill him.

“And here I thought Halloween was a few months aw-Wait, could it be? Is that you, y/n?” He said with a slimy grin that you wanted to slap off his face.

Dinah turned to face you with a confused look as Rene and Thea approached up behind the man you hated with every fibre in your body.

Then Oliver jumped through a glass window, onto the ground, standing next to you and Dinah.

Your mind flashed back to a few years ago…

“If you hurt her, I’ll blow you into tiny, unrecognisable pieces.”

You snarled at the man who was holding a crying Luna in a chokehold.

“Threatening someone without changing expressions. You two really are sisters.”

He spat out as Luna continued to cry and you cocked your gun.

“Unlike you, I actually follow up on my threats.”

In a matter of seconds, he pulled a knife from behind him and plunged it into your sister’s stomach.

“Why, I haven’t seen you since poor Luna-”

“Keep her name out of your filthy mouth, you bastard.” You warned, taking a step forward so you were closer to him.

“Since she died.” He finished, still smiling.

“Since you killed her.” You corrected.

He laughed amusingly and any hold you had managed to regain on your temper broke.

With a simple thought, you levitated him in the air with your mind.

“I dare you to fuck with me right now. I’ve killed a lot of people when I was calm. Imagine what I’ll do when I’m angry.”

“I’ll tell you what you can’t do. Save your pathetic excuse of a sis-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you used your powers to slam him into one of the containers and you repeated this motion a few times before being stopped by Dinah.

Truth be told, you had forgotten that the whole team was there.

In that moment, it just seemed like it was you and him.

He fell to the floor with a loud smack and Thea ran up to his unconscious body and checked his pulse, “He’s alive, just knocked out.”

Then all of them looked at you and Oliver moved to stand in front of you.

“What just happened?”

“None of your business.”

You were about to walk past him before he stopped you.

“Do not make me move you.”

Oliver must have realised you were serious because he stepped to the side and allowed you to pass.

***

As soon as you stepped into your apartment, you exhaled a deep breath of air, trying to steady your breathing to calm yourself down.

But it had the opposite effect because the moment that you sank down the wall, you began crying as your memories came flooding back.

“Listen. I can’t do this without you,”

You said angrily, pressing your hands more firmly against Luna’s wound.

“So you can’t die, do you understand? It’s you and me against the world so you cannot die.”

“I, uh-y/n, I don’t-It hurts, oh god-”

“Hey. It’s going to be okay. We just need to wait for the ambulance, they’re almost here. Eyes on me, Lu, keep them open.”

You jumped when there was rapid knocking at your door and you reached up and opened the door, still slumped against the wall.

Even through your tears, you recognised the figure who closed the door behind them and crouched down to face you.

“What happened?”

You shook your head and instead of questioning further, Dinah lifted you from the floor and helped you to your bedroom where you sat on the edge of your bed, tears shamelessly spilling from your eyes.

After handing you some tissues, Dinah pulled up a chair and sat opposite you, waiting until you were ready to speak.

“Is he dead?”

She shook her head, “He might have some brain damage though.”

“Good.”

“Who is he?”

“Julian Caldwell. He used to be a drug dealer. Looks like he moved up in the world.”

“And Luna?” She asked cautiously, not wanting you to shout at her or start crying again.

A betraying tear spilled from your eyes, “She was my sister” You took a deep breath.

“Caldwell murdered her.”

“I’m so sorry.”

You shrugged, “She got addicted just after Dad passed and she missed one payment and he slaughtered her like a pig.” You recounted, as the memories came to the forefront of your mind.

“So that’s why you wanted to kill him.”

“If you hadn’t have stopped me, I would have. I should have.”

You said and then you started laughing dryly at the tragic events of your life which made Dinah look at you with her brows furrowed.

“After you lose everything good in your life, all you can do is laugh. Laugh because you somehow managed to die along the way, but can’t remember where.”

“Hey,” Dinah moved from the chair to sit beside you on the bed, “You’re not going to lose me. Never. I won’t leave you.”

“Everyone leaves.”

You whispered, weary of speaking any louder as you were on the verge of breaking back down into tears.

“No. Not everyone.” You remained silent.

“Look at me. Look at me.”

She persisted and lifted your chin so you met her eyes. 

“I’m here. A thousand lifetimes in a hundred worlds, it’s always you.”

You both stared into each other’s eyes for a few moments of silence before you leaned in and kissed her.

This kiss was, in many ways, your first proper kiss.

Though you had kissed before, it was just something you did when you guys slept together.

This kiss, however, though laced with desire and fire, was deep and conveyed your true feelings to one another.

You pulled away and a soft smile formed on your lips as you closed your eyes and laid your head against her chest. Dinah’s arms enclosed around you, pulling you close to her.

“Will you stay with me, Dee?”

“Always and Forever, baby.”

[sanderstalker]

Guardian Chapter 9

Warning: Self deprecating thoughts, violence, mention of previous self harm, possession, panic attack. Let me know if I missed anything.

Pairings: Eventual Prinxety and Logicality

Word count: 4,122

Chapter 8

________

“What do you mean he’s gone?” Patton said sounding like he was on the verge of tears. He was ignored.

“Are you sure Roman?” Logan said. Roman nodded. “Damn it. I didn’t realize he was this far gone. We should have acted quicker.” Logan said scolding himself more than anything.

“What’s happening?” Patton demanded, but the two other men were not listening.

“Logan, what do we do now?” Roman asked desperately. Logan shook his head, eyes cast downward. He didn’t know what they needed to do. They could surmise that Virgil was indeed alive given the fact that Roman was living and breathing.

“I would assume that the most logical course of action would be to go upstairs and investigate.” Logan said simply like it were the obvious solution to fix everything. He didn’t really know what to do, but no way was he going to let that show.

“HEY! LISTEN TO ME!” Patton yelled. The other two men stopped talking and gave Patton their full attention. “What is happening here? You two are just strangers that I ran over with a shopping cart, and now your acting really weird. Like you know what is going on with me and Virgil. You just met us! I am super confused and I deserve an explanation! Now tell me what is going on, and what do mean by ‘Virgil is gone’?”  Patton huffed out angrily. He was done taking a side seat to the conversation.The two men were stunned into silence. They didn’t know what to tell Patton. Just when they looked about ready to speak someone called down the stairs.

“Hey, Patton! Can you come here?” Virgil called. Patton didn’t hesitate as he rushed up the stairs. Logan and Roman looked at each other uneasily before fallowing Patton up the stairs.

Patton once reaching Virgil’s room stopped in front of the closed door. He just stood there staring at the door for a while frozen in place. The words Virgil had said to him pounding in his head. “STOP LYING TO ME!” “DON’T YOU TRUST ME!” “I am sorry I am your friend.” Patton felt the words like a weight on his shoulders. Pushing him lower and lower. He gasped under their pressure. They were suffocating him. Suddenly a gentle hand was rested on his shoulder. Patton jumped at the sudden contact and looked over his shoulder. Logan was giving him a gentle look. “Perhaps you should try knocking.” He said calmly. Patton nodded and turned back to face the door. Still unable to take any action. Logan sighed, “Would you prefer if I were to knock?”

Patton looked back at him with sad eyes. He nodded again. “Okay.” Logan said. He reached forward and rapped on the door three times. Instead of a response the door just quickly flung open to a pitch black room. The lights were off and the curtain were drawn closed tightly. The three men looked at one another before cautiously stepping forward into the darkness.

“Virgil, kiddo? Why is it so dark in here?” Patton called through the darkness. Roman stumbled around in the darkness searching for a light switch. Finally his hands fell upon it and flipped it up. The men fluttered their eyes trying to adjust to the sudden light. They all scanned the room looking for Virgil. At first they didn’t see him, but then they spotted a black sweatshirt curled in on itself. Virgil.

Patton went to dash over to be by his side, but was grabbed around his waste. He looked at who had grabbed him. Logan didn’t know why he had grabbed Patton, but his Guardian instincts were screaming danger at him. Patton tried to struggle against Logan, but it was futile effort because of his small stature. “Why Patton? Why did you lie to me?” Virgil said softly not lifting his head out of his knees.

“I am so sorry!” Patton cried. “I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you anything you want to know! I promise! I won’t lie to you ever again.” Patton kept struggling against Logan trying to run to Virgil. He had to fix this. He had to. “Why couldn’t you tell me before? Do you not trust me?” Virgil murmured his head still down. His bangs flopping in front of his face.

“Of course I trust you!” Patton plead for Virgil to believe him.

“Liar.” Virgil mumbled under his breath. “What?” Patton said hoping he had heard wrong. “You’re a DAMN LIAR!” Virgil screamed lifting his head up. Patton shattered to pieces. He went limp in Logan’s arms no longer struggling.

“No… I am not… a liar… Virgil I’m so sorry.”Virgil stood up and glared at Patton.

“You should be.” Virgil snarled.

“Vigil please stop.” Patton said starting to cry.

“That’s not Virgil.” Roman said from Logan and Patton’s side.“What?” Patton said confused. He looked at Roman like he was crazy then back at Virgil. What was he talking about. That was Virgil standing right in front of them. How could he not be Virgil? Virgil smirked. His amber eyes turned yellow

“Well God, took you long enough to say anything. Not that I wasn’t having fun messing with him.”

“What have you done with Virgil?” Roman demanded. “How dare you use his voice you foul demon!”

“Virgil is gone.” Not Virgil said simply.

“What do you mean?” Logan asked. If Virgil were dead, Roman would also be deceased therefore he is not gone.” Even though Patton didn’t know what was going on he let out a sigh of relief.

“Well no he’s not dead.” Not Virgil agreed. “But he basically is. He is still technically in here.” Not Virgil said pointing at his head. “But he can’t come back. It’s like he is sleeping in here while I’m in charge. And I don’t plan on ever waking him up.”

“Why are you doing this to him?” Patton demanded. “Give him back!”

“No can do. You see Pat, he came to me. He asked for this. Do you really want to go against Virgil's wishes?” Not Virgil said with a sneer.

“Why would he ask for this?” Patton said. Not Virgil picked up a finger to tap his chin like he was contemplating. “Oh, what was it he said? ‘Please make this pain stop. Please make me stop hurting. I don’t want to feel this way anymore.’” He snapped his fingers. “Yep! That's definitely what he said.” Not Virgil sent a sly sideways glance at Patton “I wonder who was the one who made him feel that way.”

“Me…” Patton said deflated and absolutely miserable. Patton felt Logan’s arms squeeze around his waist.

“Don’t listen to him Patton. He is lying.” Logan whispered in his ear.

“No, I’m not. Virgil felt like he was a burden. He felt disgusting and worthless. You are the who made him feel like that Patton. You made him feel all this pain and suffering. I took his pain away. This all your fault. You made him weak and easy for me to target. This...”  He gestured to himself. “This is your doing.”

“It’s all my fault.” Patton mumbled to himself. Logan dropped his arms from around Patton’s waist he darted around him and pinned Not Virgil to the wall. “I’ll kill you!” He snarled.

“Go ahead. You can kill this body, but it won’t kill me.” He said with a devilish grin. “Besides Virgil isn’t my only option anymore.” He said looking past Logan and at Patton and winking. “I could make your pain go away too Patton.” He cooed gently.

Patton was so upset and confused with emotions that all he wanted to do was not feel anymore. His heart hurt so bad he wanted it to stop. Not Virgil breathed in deeply through his nose. “Ahh, I love the smell of crushed soul in the morning.” He said mockingly to Logan's face. 

Logan pulled his fist back ready to punch this guy right in the nose but something grabbed his elbow before he struck him. He looked to see Patton shaking his head. “If you hurt him, you hurt Virgil. Please don’t hurt Virgil.” Patton looked at him pleadingly. Logan growled but dropped his fist, and backed away from Not Virgil.

“Ya Logan you better listen to your… Ward.” Not Virgil said putting emphasis on the word Ward to make sure Patton caught it.  

“Your what?” Patton said looking confused.

“Oh, that's right you don’t know about the whole Guardian thing.” Not Virgil said with a grimace. He leaned in towards Patton. “Would you like me to explain it to you.” He whispered into Patton ear. Sending a shiver through Patton, chilling his body to its core.

Logan werld back on to Not Virgil he pulled back his arm and threw a punch narrowly missing his face. Not Virgil yelped and scurried away. Logan pulled back his hand to reveal a large crack in the wall. It was Logan’s turn to smirk. “Well it appears that I can’t hurt you, but I sure as hell scare the crap out of you.” Logan said victoriously.

“Well on that lovely note I think I will be taking my leave.” Not Virgil said brushing himself off. Roman who had been pacing for some time now abruptly stopped.

“You’re not going anywhere! You are going to give Virgil back to me and then I am going to kick your ass!” Roman spat. Not Virgil walked up close to Roman and looked him up and down.

“Ahh now I see. This is about more than him just being your Ward.”Roman spluttered.

“I have no clue what you are talking about.” Roman said puffing up his chest indignantly.

“Oh, okay so it's a secret, gotcha I won’t tell no one, Princey.” Not Virgil said with a wink. “But just so you know he thought you were handsome. Too bad he isn’t doing much thinking right now.” Roman felt himself shake with rage, but he didn’t dare act on it. He couldn’t hurt Virgil. And this horrible thing was in his body. “Not that I am not enjoying messing with all your heads, but I get bored real easy. Lets see if we can have some fun.” With that Not Virgil shrugged off his jacket and shook out his shoulder. From his back shot out dark shadows that spiraled around the room for a minute before solidifying into black wings. “Ahh that feels good. It’s been a while.” He said with a sigh. “Now if you excuse me. It’s been a pleasure.” He said quickly striding towards the the window. No one made a move to stop him. They were too stunned by the black wings protruding from his shoulder blades. He hopped up on the window frame a smiled over his shoulder. “That’s a lie.”

And with that he jumped plummeting towards the ground. At the last moment spreading his wings wide and soaring into the air. Roman immediately peeled off his shirt and spread his wings out forcefully ripping the bandages he had used to bind them. He then went to leap from the window in a similar fashion that Not Virgil had but was grabbed by the wrist. He looked back to see logan staring daggers at him. “Why the Hell are you stopping me? He is getting away.”

“It would be illogical to act rashly in this situation. Even if you were to catch him what would you do. He holds all the cards.” Logan said almost robotically. “Also I have a few options for how we should proceed.” Logan looked over his shoulder at a extremely lost Patton. Logan sighed. “However, I believe we have some explaining we must do first.” Roman watched as his Ward flew off into the distance. Then back at Logan. He was right even if he caught up with Not Virgil. What could he do.

“Fine.” Roman conceded.

 Patton looked between the two men. He felt so drained. It felt like all of it had happened over the course of hours but when he felt his stomach growl at him. He looked at Virgil’s clock to see it was still early in the day and he hadn’t even eaten breakfast yet. Even though his stomach growled at him he knew he wouldn’t eat. Wait a minute. Why in the world was he even thinking about breakfast at a time like this? “What just happened?” Patton asked breaking the silence that had settled over the room. Logan sighed and took one last glance at Roman before he spoke.

“I am not one for breaking rules, but considering the circumstances I don’t have a choice in the matter. Roman and I are what are called Guardians. Humans refer to us as Guardian Angels. When humans are born they are not born with Guardians. We are paired with our humans at a certain age depending on the human. Some humans do not require Guardians. It all depends on the Golden Guardian. He can see prophecies of the future, and knows who will need a Guardian at some point or another. However, he is unable to predict the specifics of the Wards needs.”

“What is a Ward?” Patton interrupted. Logan huffed at being interrupted.

“A Ward is what a Guardian refers to their human as. Anyways, when a Guardian is paired with a Ward a connection is formed between Guardian and Ward. This allows the Guardian to know the general location of their Ward at all times.”

“Also means if a Ward dies so does a Guardian.” Roman interjected.

“Yes.” Logan glared at Roman. He really hated being interrupted. “However, though that weighs on our mind, our natural instinct is to be protective of our Ward.”

“Hell, that's not what you told me before. You told me that was your only motivation.” Roman said wiggling his eyebrows at Logan.

“Roman I believe we have slightly more pressing matters than what my motivation may or may not be.” Logan said disapprovingly but blushing slightly.

“Right sorry.” Roman said all the lightness gone from his voice.

“Wait, wouldn’t it be easier for a Guardian to protect their Ward if they knew about the Guardian?” Patton asked.

“Well, because there are rules put into place by the Golden Guardian many years ago before Roman and I were even born.” Logan answered.

“What are the rules.” Patton asked.

“There aren’t many. Number 1 don’t let your Ward see you, ever. Number 2 don’t let your Ward die, if they die your light will go out too. Number 3 help in subtle ways that do not make your presence known. Number 4 do not fall in love with your Ward. Roman I have broken almost every rule today.”

“What happens if you break a rule?” Patton asked worried for his two new friends.

“Well you see… um… I don’t know... huh…?” Logan furrowed his eyebrows at this new revelation.

“Omg Logan I don’t either! How could we never wonder what the consequences would be. I mean the dying one is self explanatory, but, wow. What is going to happen to us?” Logan shook his head to say he didn’t know.

“So what was the thing that… um… was in side Virgil?”

“A fallen Guardian. Also called Gatherers. On some very rare occasions the Guardian will not die with the Ward. They lose their wings, and are in a state between alive and dead. They are believed to be in constant state of torture. They feed on the souls on Wards. To alleviate their pain. They target those who are weak mentally. Guardians are only supposed to protect their Ward from physical harm there isn’t much we can do when a Ward is mental distress. Hence why he targeted Virgil. He didn’t have a very strong mental armor to protect himself from the cruel things he whispered into his head. However, I never heard of a Gatherer taking over a person's body and simply sending the soul to essentially hibernate within the mind.” Patton whimpered at this. Remembering how the Gatherer said it was his fault. Logan seeming to read his mind spoke quickly. “This is in no way your fault Patton.”

“I made him feel like he was a burden. I made him feel that way. It is my fault.” Patton said feeling pathetic. Logan placed his hands on Patton's shoulders.

“Patton this is in no way your fault. You have tried to protect Virgil around every turn. The Gatherer poisoned his thoughts and made him feel worthless. It was not your doing. Don’t let self deprecating thoughts poison your mind too. Otherwise a Gatherer can target you too.” Patton was reassured by Logan’s words, and gave him a sad smile, but still he couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“Ugh, Logan do you and your Ward need a minute alone. I would be happy to come back later.” Roman said and Logan wanted to strangle him for more than a few reasons.

Patton's eyes widened. “You’re my Guardian?” Patton asked oblivious to the underline meaning of Romans words.

Logan sighed deciding it was too late to go back. “Yes I am. Roman is Virgil's.”

“That’s so…” Patton trailed off lose in the thoughts swirling around his head. Logan braced himself for the response. He could only imagine how weird all of this must seem to Patton. “Totally awesome!” Logan balked at Patton’s enthusiasm. “It is so nice to know somebody has been watching over Virgil and me! You guys are like knights in shining armor protecting us from harm.” Patton gushed.

Roman puffed up like a peacock at the praise. It felt really good to get some actual recognition for what they did. Logan spluttered at the unexpected reaction and stumbled to regain his composure. How did his Ward manage to unravel him so much? Patton suddenly dropped his giddy tirade and became very serious. “Wait if there are all these rules then why risk being caught by us?” Patton asked.“I sensed that Virgil was in danger. I could feel his pain when he cut himself.” Roman answered.

Patton sucked in a breath. “Virgil hurt himself?” The two Guardian nodded soberly. Patton felt his blood boil. How could Virgil keep this a secret from him. He couldn’t understand it. He wanted to shake Virgil and demand he explain himself. Then it hit Patton. He didn’t want to be a burden. He didn’t tell Patton because he didn’t want to worry him. Patton felt like the air had been squeezed from his lungs. He heard the Gatherer’s words circle around him. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!  ALL YOUR FAULT! YOUR FAULT! YOU! Patton couldn’t breath he felt like the walls around him were closing in on him. He felt his legs give out underneath him. He dropped to the ground trying to catch his breath. He had failed to keep his fiend safe. He was worthless. Pathetic. He felt so… so… USELESS!

“Logan you have to do something! He is working himself into a panic attack. Like this he is vulnerable to the Gatherer, and if he keeps breathing like that he’ll pass out.” Roman urged Logan.

“Me? But Roman you’re better at dealing with emotional responses. I don’t know how.” Logan said frantic.

“You’re his Guardian! It should be you who helps him now. I didn’t help Virgil in time. You have to be better than me!” Roman countered.

Logan looked to the small man shaking on the ground. As he watched him trying to figure out what to do he realized something. He had been looking at this all wrong. He had always thought if he could keep Patton from physical harm it would be enough. It wasn’t though. Not even close. With that he sprang into action.

Patton couldn’t hear Logan and Roman talking. His ears were pounding and his vision was blurring. He couldn’t think straight or catch his breath. This was his fault. He deserved this. He deserved this pain. Suddenly something was flung over his shoulders. It was soft and warm. He focussed  attention on it. It was Virgil’s giant hoodie. Someone had put it on him. He tried to look for who had but his head was still spinning.

“Patton....you…me...need...breathe…” He heard someone trying to talk to him, but couldn’t understand them. All he could hear was his heart pounding in his ears. He shook his head trying to clear his ears. He felt a gentle hand rubbing circles on his back. It was really nice. “Patton can you…me...need to breathe.” He could hear more now, but still wasn’t sure what the voice was asking. But it was soothing. The spinning feeling in his head started to slow. “Patton can you hear me? You need to breath.” Logan repeated one more time. Patton looked at Logan and his eyes had finally unclouded and seemed to see him for the first time. He was still gasping for air and shaking hard, but this was progress.

“Y-yes I-I can hear you.” Patton stuttered. His voice unsteady.

“Ok, good. Now can you try to match my breathing pattern.” Logan said calmly.

“I-I’ll try.” Patton said. Logan nodded. He took deep breaths. Patton tried his best to follow but his breathing just came out in short gasps. “I-I can’t d-do it.” He cried looking pleadingly at Logan. “I am so pathetic and useless.” Tears began to form around the rims of his eyes.

Logan acted instinctively wrapping his arms around Patton. “Shh, you are not pathetic, and you are not useless. You are kind and gentle. I have watched you take care of Virgil when he has panic attacks. You help him so much. That’s why you can’t give up. Virgil needs you now.”  Patton let out a sigh and leaned into Logan’s embrace. He could feel Logan’s steady breathing and forced his own to match. The pounding in his ears finally subsided and his lungs didn’t feel like they were going to explode.  He pulled himself away just enough so that he could see Logan’s face.

“You’re right. Thank you Logan. This is no time to be weak. Right now I need to be brave. I will save my friend.” With that Patton leaned back into the hug and wrapped his own arms around Logan.

Roman walked up to Logan and Patton and tapped Logan on the head. Logan looked up from the man in his arms to see what Roman wanted. “You did good Lo.” He said simply with a thumbs up and a grin.

Logan despite himself blushed at the praise and dropped his head back down trying to hide his face in Patton’s soft hair.

Eventually Patton pulled away from Logan. Unfortunately. “So Logan you said before, when you stopped Roman, you said you had a plan? Didn’t you?

Logan nodded at Patton. “I think I know some people that can help.”

________

 (Mini Bonus Chapter)After Not Virgil, Aka D, flew off he had to land and unfortunately not a long ways away from the house. His wings were still new so they got tired quickly. He would have to work on that. He started walking through the street. He didn’t really have a destination. It had been so long since he had had a body he just wanted to walk. He passed by a window and looked at himself. “You know this guy is so boring looking.” He sighed looking at his reflection. “Let’s spice things up a bit.” With that he started looking around. Until he finally found what he was looking for. He strutted into the salon with a big toothy grin. He looked into Virgil’s wallet to find he had plenty of money. Perfect. He spotted a cute looking hair stylist and decided he would do. He flopped down in his chair and smirked up at him. “Hey hot stuff. I am looking to get a more interesting hairstyle. Ya think you could hook me up.”

The man rolled his eyes at D’s pompous attitude. “You can pay?”

“Mmhmm.” He responded holding up big wad of cash. The man sighed.

“You are lucky I am free right now. What do you want.”

“Well…”

…A little while later D was spun around to see the finished creation. And grinned. Virgil's previously brown hair was now all black with neon purple highlights shining in it. His hair that had once been shaggy and greasy was now now cut and clean. D had asked to leave the bangs alone though. He liked how they fell in his eyes, and he liked how they had flopped around when he flew earlier. “Ahh yes, this is much better.”

__________

Chapter 10

I added the mini chapter because I really liked hat idea, but I didn't think it would fit the of any of the actual chapters, and it was too short on it's own so I just added it here. I hope you like it.

@whatwashernameagain, @logicallyanxious-morallyromantic, @anony-phangirl, @sleepyssnail, @phlying-squirrel, @v-doodles, @virgilcrofters, @yangsembercelica, @barlibismi, @music-and-monsters

[wonderlandinrope]

Not All Monsters Part 2

Sam X Reader

Warnings: Domestic violence, abuse, self-hate, 

Summary: After meeting Aris the boys and Cas try to help but find themselves in a deeper hole than they had planned

Feedback helps.

Aris pushed passed the man with the coat her feet moving faster than she could think. Her body placed between Dan and Sam’s fists, eyes closed tight waiting for the impact but nothing came. Dan leaned against the hood of the car barely moving letting out a laugh. Aris looked at the shocked faces standing before her.

“You need to get out the way so my brother can finish teaching this guy how to be a decent human being.” The green eyes man held a flask sipping it casually.

“Are you ok?” Sam looked at the women standing before him shorter than he had originally guessed even with heels. “Did he hurt you at all?”

“I told you to leave. You're just going to piss him off more.” Aris turned to Dan who was on the verge of passing out.

“This man attacking you why are you defending him?” Cas Watched the unusually petite woman try to lift the man who had at least 70 pounds and 6 inches on her.

“This is none of your business.” biting her tongue She did her best to avoid letting out the tears. Embarrassment became red apples on her cheeks. “Please go.”

“Let us help you.” Sam took a step forward as Aris struggled to get Dan in the car.

“I said go!” She snapped. Her eyes burning.

Dean stepped forward taking Dan and helping ARis place him in the passenger's side. “Alright, we ’ll go. So long as you're sure you're good.”

Aris didn’t say a word just got into the car and drove off leaving the men behind confused. How badly she wanted to let Sam keep hitting Dan, how much she wanted to see him a pile on the ground unable to move, or speak. The same way he had left her so many times after a night like this. But to do so would have been her admitting that something was wrong, and that wasn’t a truth that she was ready to face.

Dan moaned in the passenger's seat, his face caked with blood and dirt, he only saw him in flashes under the street lights. He was not going to be happy in the morning. Arriving at their apartment she struggled to get him inside, dropping him twice, him letting out a groan each time. Thankful that they lived on the first floor. She finally got him to the bed where she spent the next few hours running back and forth trying to ice his face and clean him up. Hoping threw some miracle he wouldn’t be nearly as bad off as he looked now.

The pair of hunters and Angel drove in silence pondering what they had just seen. It was clear that the woman had been in trouble, that she was terrified of the man who had claimed to be her boyfriend, yet she still defended him against Sam. Cas leaning back looking out the window found it strange that humans could be so cruel especially to each other, especially to those they claimed to love.

“That girl must be under a spell, she didn’t seem to want to go with him.”  He proposed.

Sam shook his head. “Maybe. Or maybe she’s just put up with him so long she’s used to his behavior and makes excuse for him.” He’d already missed saving one person tonight, it was killing him inside that he wouldn’t be able to save this one either.

“she should have asked for us to help or call her another ride.” The idea of someone staying with another person who would willingly do such vile things went against all instincts.

Looking in the mirror at Cas Dean frowned. “Sometimes people in situations like that, don't always realize how bad things really are” He nodded now understanding. Dean smiled pulling a wallet out of his pocket. “However it wouldn't hurt to check up on her.”

“When did you steal his wallet?” With Amusement same took the wallet, rifling through it to get his license. Also finding a picture of Aris, She looked different as if she had more life in her. 

“While else would I have helped that dick in the car.” Smirking they headed back to the Motel to look up any information they could find on Dan.

In the morning Aris awoke to Dan cursing in the mirror. At some point she must have fallen asleep, unable to keep that exhaustion at bay any longer. Now regretting it she lay on the floor waiting for shoulders tense for Dan to come back into the room, unable to decide if he would blame her for the way he looked or if by some miracle he would not remember what happened the night before. She could see his shoes standing before her not wanting look up but doing so anyway.

“What the hell! Look at my face! What happened?” One of his eyes was swollen shut, the other was red with a cut over his forehead bruises on his cheeks. “And my wallet! It's gone! You forget that too?”

Rolling over onto her back she shrugged. “I’m sorry, You were really drunk. I tried to get you in the house but you kept falling. The wallet must have fallen out at the bar on the way to the car.”

“And you didn’t think to look for it? It takes a special type of stupid to be you doesn’t it.” Dan marched off cursing under his breath slamming the doors as he went. “Are you coming or not?”

Jumping up she ran the bathroom brushed her teeth, threw on a clean outfit, and followed him out the door while putting her hair in a ponytail. Dan spent the whole ride to the bar cursing and insulting Aris, repeatedly telling her he would leave her there if they didn’t find his wallet. However, when it didn’t turn up instead took her wallet, pulling the cash, and debit card from it. Putting it in his own pockets, before they peeled out of the parking lot in the direction of a dinner.

At the dinner, Aris smiled politely at the waitress thanking her for the menus. Dan still grumbling about his face and the wallet. Not letting Aris think for a moment that she was going to before given without some serious repercussions. As they began to look at the menu Dan frowned, taking the menu from Aris.

“You should just get the egg whites and fruit salad. If you gain any more weight you're going to have a whole other problem on your hands.” He called the waitress over and ordered for both of them. The waitress giving a double take at Aris who was looking out the window, a somber look planted on her face. When she walked away Dan gave her a glare. “You need to smile more, you look depressed.”

Nodding Aris listened as Dan began to tell her a story she’d already heard a million times. But thought it better to amuse him to keep the piece. Looking behind him, two men entered the dinner, Sam and the shorter one with green eyes. Focusing quickly back on Dan she did her best to avoid eye contact. Unfortunately, when the waitress spotted them she had them sit in the booth right behind Dan.

Dean had his back to the two while Sam looked over keeping his eyes on two, While it was their plan to run into them, it turned out to be a good move. Dean could see the fear on Aris' face, poorly masked by a false smile, while Dean could hear the arrogance in Dan’s voice, as he went on telling Aris about this and that, as is she couldn’t understand the most basic aspects of life.  It was more difficult to hold back and be tactful given the situation before them. After all, this was not some monster that was lurking in the dark trying to avoid detection or just a nightmare to the world, this was the man who believed he was the king shit of turd island. Someone that thought he was desired by all. And worst of all someone who feared his retaliation if she made the wrong move.

When the waitress came with Aris and Dan’s order, he did his best at flirting with the obviously uncomfortable waitress. Before letting her go back to work, Aris said nothing only trying to remain subservient, and avoid looking at the two men in the other booth. When the waitress was out of ear shot Dan took the opportunity to scrolled Aris some more about the night before.

“Maybe if I wasn’t with such a lush she wouldn’t have dropped my wallet and I could leave that nice working woman a better tip.” Taking a bite of pancake then continuing. “We’ll go back tonight when they open and check to see if someone turned it. Tony’s usually has a good reputation.”

Hearing the name of the bar Dean say an opening and took it, turning to look at Dan. “Hey man, I don’t mean to listen in but did you say Tony’s Bar?”

Aris' heart jumped into her throat, choking on the water she was sipping. As she coughed Dan turned to look at the two men. “Yeah, the old lady lost my wallet there last night.” He took a double take at Sam but said nothing.

Desperate to keep him from recognizing the men Aris tried to get his attention back. “Babe we really don’t need to bother them with this.”

“Aris if I wanted your opinion I would have asked for it.” Both men were a little taken back by his ability to be so blatantly rude but played along.

Sam gave Aris a thin Smile. “It’s ok, we actually found a wallet there the other night. You said your name was Dan? I think that might have been on the license.”

Dan was now completely focused on the two men, not even acknowledging Aris, who sat on the verge of panic. Any moment he could remember the night before and if he did she would be the one in trouble.

“You men from around here?” Dan asked

“No just visiting,” Sam replied

“Well heck, what can I do to thank you for returning my wallet? If you boys are free tonight I’d love to have you over for a beer.” While Dan turned on the fake charm, Dean was already trying to find a way to set this guy up to go away for a long time.

“Sounds great.” Dean handed over the wallet pretending like he hadn’t already memorized the address.

That night Dan noticed as Aris grew quite, more so than usual. She had been trying to come up with an excuse to convince Dan to cancel. She thought about playing sick or telling Dan that she thought that maybe they could go out and she would stay home but every time she opened her mouth Dan would shoot her a look. At one point even telling her not to embarrass herself tonight. Dan was already fairly buzzed when the brothers showed up. Cas had some business to deal with in heaven so he wasn’t able to join them.

Knocking on the door, Dan could be heard yelling at Aris to get it. A moment later the door opened, Aris stood looking up at the two, a defeated look on her face like she’d been running a mental marathon all day. Wanting to give them a warning, to avoid anything that might trigger Dan, she instead found herself at the other end of a pair of eyes who seemed to be truly caring.

“Coming here was a mistake.” Was the only thing she could manage to say before turning inward.

“We wanted to make sure you were ok,” Sam whispered.

“Plus free beer.” Dean smiled trying to lighten the mood.

Opening her mouth Aris was then interrupted by Dan who slapped her ass, making her jump. “You offer our guests a beer yet?” She shook her head. “This girl. Still, haven't trained her right I guess. Go get a beer!”

Aris walked off trying to avoid looking at the men. She was used to Dan’s normal friend who says him treat her this way or strangers, but something about these two made her feel self-conscious. Especially when Sam looked at her like he pitied her. Aris’ face fell, completely defeated, a Sad look that made Sam wanted to pull her away from Dan, to protect her.

Dan invited them to the living room, where they talked about mostly him and his interests for a while until he seemed to remember that it's ok to ask people about themselves. “So what about you guys? What do you do?”

“We have a family business.” Dean smiled.

Aris appeared with two beers and a glass filled with vodka for Dan. “What do you think this is? Don’t be lazy! Go back and open their beers. I swear guys, sometimes a woman just don’t know how hard it is to work and support a family.”

Sam clenched his fist but said nothing. Aris who was used to reading the subtle micro-expressions on people's faces felt the tension rolling off the brothers. Going back to the kitchen she didn’t hear Sam also excuse himself from the conversation. Only when she felt a hand on her shoulder, causing her to drop one of the beers did she notice him. The bottle hit the floor smashing, the beer went everywhere.

Going into panic mode Aris instantly began apologizing for everything. “I'm so sorry! I didn't see you! I didn't know. Sorry.” Grabbing paper towels trying to mop up the glass and beer Sam did his best to help.

“It's my fault I shouldn't have startled you.” Sam looked into Aris' eyes. She paused just for a moment, relaxing for a second as it dawned on her that he wasn't going to scream or curse at her. “Are you ok?”

While it was clear he wasn't asking about the beer, she gave no indication she thought otherwise. “I’ll clean it.”

Soaking up the last bit of beer, Aris grabbed a large piece of broken glass but as it slipped out of her hand she squeezed it tighter cutting into her palm. Sam noticed the blood dripping from her hand, reaching for her to help her but she pulled away from him, more afraid of his touch than of the pain that should have been echoing in her hand, yet felt incredibly numb. Her head was going a million miles a minute trying to think two steps ahead, of Dan, planning what he may do next that the pain barely registered.

“It’s just a cut. Go back to the living room before he comes looking for you.” Dropping the glass in the sink she washed out her hand, the gash in her palm looked like it may need stitches.

Ignoring her words he took her hand in his, and began to dab it with a clean cloth. “Do you want to go to the hospital? Does it hurt?”

She felt a calm run over her as his warm hand held her fridge skin. It was nice to feel someone touch her in a caring way, that wouldn’t end with her being used. Something that she hadn’t experienced in years.  His hazel eyes moving over her hand looking for any shards that may have been left. As she looked up at him it occurred to her that she needed to answer.

“No, it’s fine.” Withdrawing, she wrapped it in a towel then grabbed two beers opened them and walked Sam back to the living room.

Dan barely took notice, he was already drunk. Dean looked uncomfortable, and annoyed but still sat trying to keep Dan’s attention away from his brother who was checking on Aris. When they both walked back into the room Dean’s eyes widen at the blood-soaked. Refusing to look at him She gave him the beer, and walked away.

“Dan your girlfriend looks like she may need your help.” Dean pointed.

“She’s fine. That girl complains about every little thing!” He looked at Sam for a moment. “You look familiar, Did we meet before?” He pointed a drunken finger at Sam, then stood. Dean leaned forward. Sam stood his ground as the shorter man grew closer studying his face. “Yeah, I remember now. You hit on my Aris.”

Stumbling back to the chair he’d been sitting in the dug around for a moment then came up swinging a revolver wildly. Dean jumped up, Sam took a step back. The gun misfired into the ceiling, Dan jumped and ducked, then went back trying to aim at Sam. As the Dean held up his hands.

“Easy man we don’t want any trouble,” Sam stated as Dean inched his way toward Dan, who then turned the gun on him.

“Alright, we’re just going to go.” Dean said as he pushed his brother toward the door.

After hearing the shots, Aris appeared standing behind the brothers but in front of the door. There was a hole in the ceiling and Dan had the gun pointed at the men. Without thinking she stepped forward toward the gun, in a way believing that like so many times before if he saw her, or if she just agreed with him did as he said, he would calm down and put the gun away.

“Get outta my fuckin’ house you assholes!” Dan yelled.

It was only after he fired, and the room became quite that his eyes landed on the women standing in front of him. Dean and Sam looked down, knowing that a shot had been fired but unsure of where it had landed first checking themselves than elsewhere. Aris’ hands grew cold, her stomach burned as the warm red liquid flowed out from the gaping hole. Her knees grew weak, the floor came up to meet her, coughing, more blood poured out of her mouth as she gasped for air reaching for anything screaming internally, but unable to even whisper.

[kitten1618x]

GoT Afterthoughts 7x05 Eastwatch (Jonsa Edition) SPOILERS

Hello loves and welcome to another edition of GoT Afterthoughts. Welp. It wasn't the best episode, but it's what I expected, tbh. The next ep. is the penultimate, so I figured it'd be a little lackluster. All in all, I didn't think it was that bad. So we begin our episode downstream from the field of fire 2.0 ... Bronn's head breaks the water, and then Jamie's. They have a bit of their usual banter -Bronn telling Jamie he can't die until he pays him, but when the Dragons come to KL, he's peacin' out, Cub Scout! ✌🏻 Side note: I love when Bronn calls Jamie a cunt!! It cuts over to Tyrion walking amidst the death and ashes, looking a mixture of horrified, sad and regretful. The Dothraki are picking spoils from the remains -as is their custom. He watches as the remaining living soldiers that have been rounded up, are marched where Dany stands on a large boulder, Drogon perched on the larger rock behind her -shrieking, or whatever the hell it is that Dragons do. Dany starts another one of her speeches. She appeals to them with her past "slave rhetoric" -- "I know what Cersei has told you, that I've come to murder you" (you mean like you just did??) And I'm paraphrasing ... "All I want to do is destroy the wheel that's kept you all oppressed, Cersei is bad, I'm on your side. Bow to me and you will be saved. Bend the knee or die ...yada yada yada" A few of the men bend. Drogon turns and roars at the crowd, and a bunch more drop down. Dany calls Lord Tarly forward. Tyrion tries to reason with him, but Tarly basically says he won't support a foreign leader with no ties to this land who has an army of savages at her back. Dude, Tarly is a giant asshat, but I can respect that. Again, Tyrion tries to intervene -suggesting he be sent to the Wall instead. Tarly refuses and says that Dany doesn't have the authority to send him to the wall, as she's not his queen. Annnnnnnd then Dickon steps forward like -ya know, a dick. An honorable dick, I suppose -but still, a stupid one. Tyrion pretty much says the same thing I just did -don't be a dick, Dickon, and Lord Tarly even agrees with a nod, but apparently, stubbornness runs in the Tarly family. Tyrion tries desperately to change Dany's mind, SEVERAL TIMES, making a comment "when you start beheading entire families .." but she cuts him off with "I'm not beheading them." Yes, because burning them is so much better. 🙄 Ominous music thrums in the background, Tyrion's chest is heaving, the Tarly's look nervous (dad grabs son's arm), Dany levels their death sentence then calmly says dracarys. As they fall burning to the ground, the rest of the soldiers fall to their knees with one look from Drogon. We head to KL, and Jamie basically tells Cersei that they can't win this war. She throws some cheap shots at him before Jamie tells her that Olenna was the one that poisoned Joffrey. Cersei is skeptical at first, but accepts it. Cersei is refusing to submit. She'll fight and die and she expects Jamie to do the same. And we're at Dragonstone now, Jon watches from the cliffs, his incest fur blowing in the wind (and he's looking mighty fine if I do say so myself), he watches as Drogon flies overhead and lands -then starts charging for him and roaring all intimidating and shit. Like WTF is up with Drogon this episode? He's being a mouthy little bitch. Did Dany change his food or something, cuz he's testy as hell! I don't know how anyone could look sexy while shitting their pants, but my friends -Jon Snow for the win! 😍 But then, Drogon catches a whiff of Jon's Targ scent blowing off his incest fur, and mellows out, going completely docile as Jon apprehensively strokes his muzzle. Or maybe Drogon got a whiff of Sansa on Jon's clothes and he's in love now too? If that's the case, he better watch out for Jon Snow murder kitten .... just sayin'. Dany looks on from Drogon's back, and I honestly couldn't tell from her expression whether she was awed or felt threatened? Maybe a bit of both? But hey -why the hell didn't she stop Drogon from charging Jon in the first place? If she's so in control of her Dragons? Not cool, pyro chickie, not cool. 😡 She asks "they're beautiful aren't they?", and Jon's all "umm, yeah ...that's not really what I was thinking, tbh ...but suuuuure, we'll go with that." And proud mama Dany boasts that no matter how frightening they are to others, they are her children. Jon asks how it went, noting that it didn't take too long, and Dany answers that she has considerably less enemies now than she had yesterday. Jon doesn't look pleased and Dany picks up on that, so she asks him how many men did his army kill when he took back Winterfell (apples and oranges, Dany -but okay). She brings up when he first arrived and Davos said he took a knife in the heart for his people -and Jon quickly shoots back that Davos gets carried away. Side note: I read the leaked script for this episode, and supposedly the two of them were going to be "joking about being magical" -so those of you who rest all your hopes/belief on these leaks: STOP! Luckily Jon doesn't have to explain himself much more because the Dothraki interrupt their convo, and out from behind them steps Jorah!!!! He kneels and Dany introduces them. She tells Jorah that he looks strong and she's so genuinely happy to see him. Honestly, my heart melted when she embraced him, her eyes falling shut and her squeezing a bit harder. I've lowkey shipped them forever. ❤️ aww and their theme song played!! Another side note: That leaked script also said that Jon would try to give Jorah his father's sword and Jorah would refuse. That didn't happen, either ...just sayin'. We're in the Godswood now and Bran wargs into a flock of ravens and heads over the wall, flying for awhile until they encounter the army of the dead. The NK senses Brans presence, and looks up at the ravens and they all scatter. Bran snaps out of his trance and tells the maester they need to send ravens. Now we're at the Citadel, and Sam pops in on the Maesters having some sort of employee meeting, as he drops off a stack of books and scrolls. He overhears them talking about Bran and tries to get them to take the warning seriously, but they are skeptic that it might be a ploy by the dragon queen. The Archmaester says that he'll get to the bottom of it, and the other maesters poke fun at all the prophesies they've heard over the years that never came to fruition. Frustrated, Sam leaves the room, and one of the maesters asks if he's the one related to the two men who were just burned alive. Harsh bro. We move to the Dragonstone throne room where Tyrion and Varys are discussing Dany's latest violent outburst. After taking a few gulps from Tyrion's wine goblet, Varys recounts a story of serving Dany's father and how he stood complicit while he burned people, and tells Tyrion he needs to find a way to get Dany to listen. Varys has a Raven message for Jon. This part kind of pissed me off, because after all that Tyrion saw, he's still making excuses for Dany. Not entirely -but the "she's not her father" comment irritated the hell out of me. Is he so blinded by love? But then I thought -maybe he was just saying it more to help convince himself. We scoot on over to the war room, and Jon has read the message -Arya and Bran are alive, and the dead are advancing on the wall -towards Eastwatch. Time to stop dicking around on Dragonstone -help or not, but Jon is going home. Tyrion cooks up a plan to get proof to show Cersei, as Dany will only help Jon's cause if Cersei agrees too (this ensures that Cersei won't march in and take over once Dany marches her army out to help -showing once again that the IT means more than saving the entire realm ..and yet another juxtaposition/foil of Jon). But like seriously -again, I want to smack the shit out of Tyrion this episode! I love him -he's one of my favorite characters and he's proposing some stupid shit like going over the wall to get one soldier to prove it to Cersei??? Seriously??? This shit better not be in the books! Tyrion thinks he could get Jamie to listen to him and in turn, convince Cersei to meet, provided they bring proof. They look to Davos for his smuggling skills, to smuggle Tyrion into KL, then begin to discuss who will go over the wall. Jon looks down because he knows it has to be him. Jorah interrupts and volunteers. Dany's head whips around at that. She looks horrified at the thought of losing him again. Jon says the freefolk will help. Davos says the freefolk won't follow ser Jorah, and Jon says they won't have to. Davos says he can't lead a raid beyond the wall -he's not the Nights Watch anymore, he's a king, and Jon interrupts his interlude. It was pretty clear to me when he looked down earlier, that he knows it will have to be him. He's the only one there that's seen and experienced dealing with WWs (and that's exactly what he says). Dany looks straight up on the verge of tears (and Jorah notices). She's been giving Jon heart eyes this whole episode -clearly she's crushin'. She tells him she hasn't given him permission to leave. Jon claps back: 🔥🔥With respect your Grace, I don't need permission, I am a king. 🔥🔥 And he asks for her to trust a stranger and work with him, aka: fight with me. And Dany nods her head. We shoot on over to Winterfell and the Northerners are getting itchy since Jon's been gone awhile and still isn't back. Lord Glover and Lord Royce imply that Sansa should be their queen, but Sansa insists they must trust Jon. Arya (who was watching this exchange) follows Sansa back to her chambers and tosses random veiled insults at her -implying that Sansa is still vain and that she wants to seize Jon's power for herself. I think Sansa held her own pretty well here, but WTF?! Why do they have to do this distrust shit with the Stark sisters? This makes me so damn angry! @a-baleful-howl called this earlier in the week -that Arya would be jealous -and I vehemently disagreed (politely you Nonny assholes who gave her shit, because that's how you have a productive conversation) -as I thought that years of separation and thinking the other was probably dead, that the girls had matured and would put family above all because THAT is what Starks do ... but nope. I'm still holding onto hope that my Starklings are playing LF -but in the meantime, @a-baleful-howl ...enjoy your justice boner. We're in KL now, Davos tell Tyrion to hurry, then heads off to flea bottom to look for something. Bronn brings Jamie down to the crypts and then takes off, leaving the Lannister boys to an emotional yet frigid reunion. Tyrion pleads for Jamie's help in convincing Cersei to meet with Dany. We jump back to Davos who has found what he's looking for: Gendry! Bless my heart, I've missed that adorable little bastard! They head back to the boat to wait for Tyrion and are approached by some gold cloaks who recognize Tyrion, and Gendry quickly dispatches them with his trusty war hammer (like father, like son). We head up to Cersei's quarters. Jamie confesses that he met with Tyrion, and Cersei already knows, as she asks him if he'll be punishing Bronn for his betrayal. She implies she knows everything that's going on in her city. Cersei agrees to the meeting, but she ma already scheming. She's got a new lease on life- she's pregnant. Jamie wants to know who she'll name as the father, and she says him. She doesn't care what people think. They kiss passionately, and when they embrace, she warns him not to betray her again. Now where have we heard that before??? Now we're back at Dragonstone. Davos and Gendry make their way to the mines and Davos warns Gendry again to keep his identity to himself. Gendry however, immediately does the opposite and our bastard boys bond immediately --and honestly, I am so in love! They are totally my new brotp! ❤️ Gendry insists on coming too, and adopted dad Davos is worried about his boys. We're still on the beach, but it's the next day. Tyrion tells Jorah he missed him, gives him the slavers coin, and tells him to bring it back because the queen needs him. Dany approaches and takes Jordan's hands affectionately. I kind of feel like Jorah wanted to tell her he loves her, but he sees Jon approaching and kisses her hands, then moves for the boat. Jon's goodbye: "Well, if I don't return, at least you won't have to deal with the King in the North anymore." Dany (heart eyed dreamy stare & sweet voice): "I've grown used to him." Jon (nonchalantly): "I wish you good fortune in the wars to come, your Grace." ✌🏻 then immediately heads for the boat. Dany watches the men haul the boat into the waves, Tyrion watches Dany watching, and Jorah looks back. Jon does not. JON DOESN'T LOOK BACK!!! That's an epic plus for our ship guys. Lovers last glance is def. a romance trope, and Jon didn't look back!!! Okay, whew! I jumped up and flung all the pillows off my couch, and I think my husband is now considering admitting me. 😂😂😂 We head back to the Citadel, and poor Sam looks fucking stressed. Gilly (who loves to read) is telling him about this maester who took meticulous notes (including how many times he dropped a deuce). She asks Sam what an annulment is, and says that in the notes it says this maester preceded over a secret annulment in Dorne, that followed immediately by a wedding -both belonging to none other than Prince Rhaegar. What a dick. Seriously. Sam has freaking had it! He jumps up, gives little Sammy the book he was working on (and look how much he's grown) and now we see him unlocking the locked book section and stuffing books and scrolls into a satchel. On his way out, he stops and looks up at the huge thing-amabob on the ceiling one last time while his theme song plays, and then he hops in a wagon with Gilly and they are out. My guess is heading to Winterfell. He's tired of just reading about the achievements of better men. Dammit Sam Tarly, you get in the precious dewdrop category with Davos! Speaking of Winterfell, LF is doing his creepy shit -meeting with a girl from wintertown. She gives him something, and Arya is watching in the shadows. He heads back to his room and someone approaches him (a maester?) who says something about the former maesters archives. LF asks if he's sure it's the only copy and then tells the dude that Lady Stark thanks him for his service. Arya who watches the exchange in the shadows, waits for him to leave his room, then picks the lock and searches for the slip of paper. Eventually she finds it in a tear in his mattress. What he hid, appears to be the message that Sansa had sent to Robb after their father was killed (the letter Cersei had her write). As Arya leaves the room, LF emerged from the shadows with his sinister grin. 🙄 We stop finally at Eastwatch. The boys head down to the dungeon where the hound and his religious weirdo travel companions are being detained. Gendry's still pretty pissed at them, and Davos still has his healthy skepticism of this damn religion (and you know I love him so much for that, and I'll bring it up every damn time, too)! It ends with all our boys -all hostile towards someone else in the group, heading through the open gate to the other side of the wall. So a few things to note here: the leaks aren't always accurate. This was one of those episodes. I was really hoping that Jon and the Hound would share some words on Sansa and Arya, but maybe that will be next week. Overall, it wasn't too bad after a rewatch, and it wasn't a bad episode for our ship AT ALL. While Dany seems to have some serious heart eyes for our boy, Kit's just not playing it interested, man. Thanks for tuning in. See you next week!

[harlockauxillia30k-blog]

Old junk part 1

This is not in character at all and never will be. Think of it as an AU where Harlock joined the military and was raised to be a simpering coward: Also his name was Alexander Voth. You can see how I basically scrapped this guy entirely.

Alexander Voth- Captain of the [at this point the centauri hadn’t even been thought up yet]

Voth considers himself a proud honourable member of the imperial army. Unfortunately, over the intervening years of crusade, reality has reared its ugly head and turned that proud image around somewhat. Somewhat of an excitable man, eager to fall to rear lines and incredibly self conscious, most of his men have little respect for their commanding officer. In combat, they often find his orders somewhat superfluous and distant, as they are often relayed from some kind of bunker or vehicle far in the rear, safe and secure- nothing like the hero-colonel who leads the group as a whole; a man who has shown nothing but contempt for Voth’s apparent weakness.

That all changed during the battle of Sabrok, mere months before the war that would rend the imperium asunder; the heresy…

Voth flexed his shoulders somewhat awkwardly, hoping doing so would mask a shiver creeping through his spine. His warriors were succumbing to the foe; a green monstrous alien breed known to the Imperials as the ‘Ork’- an unthinkable thing to the once cloistered captain. Now, he watched as teams of big green monstrosities began carving through his front ranks. He thought he actually saw Trooper Saul get eaten by one. Alive.

His hands wandering to a misplaced plasma pistol, Voth decided there to take a life changing action; one that would save his career. “W-well, gentlemen, it seems were on the verge of being ov-ove-overrun. N-now, don’t worry. I sh-s-shall lead the rear-guard action and keep the green ones at bay. I um, I want you two lieutenants to marshall the platoons and get them to s-safety. “I’m going now. D-don’t bother stopping me!”

The lieutenants nodded curtly, and walked out of the bunker, organizing their platoons for a retreat.

Voth was left alone in his command bunker. Above, a shell detonated and cracked open the ‘crete. Voth drew his blade.

“Oh gakk it. Oh feth I thought they’d stop me. W-well, hm…”

He walked out of his bunker and into the trench, glancing at his surprised and desperate men.

“Ahem, m-men of the emperor! Have no fear! Victory for us is inevitable. Look upon the standard…” Voth watched as an ork gleefully set the standard alight, much incensing the bearer, who began stabbing the beast with psychotic rage.

“T-then look to me then. Gakk it all!”

Voth pushed himself forward and into the collapsed remains of the frontline; exhausted troopers somehow still putting up a fight in hand to hand with ork monstrosities.

“I’m very upset! Upset at you Xenos!” Voth screamed, no screeched was a better word, blasting his plasma gun at a duelling pair, killing ork and trooper both.

“You r-ruined everything! Gakk it I was almost finished! I can go home in just  a few weeks!”

Voth swept his blade low, bisecting an ork boy already nearly dead from a sergeant’s chainsaw. The trooper nodded at his captain, who paid him no mind.

“Now I’m going to die here, and its all your fault! Come on! Kill me! I’m right here!”

Voth surrendered himself to death, climbing the ruined parapet as a trio of the alien freaks bellowed cheerfully in their guttural tongue.

“Come on then!” Voth said, his voice starting to crack.

His plasma pistol was surprisingly proficient at dispatching his foes. He also found his orkish enemy tough but slow- like his bullies in the fencing academy.

“Reeeah! Have at you, green dolts!”

As Voth swung with surprising precision his men had never witnessed, the rag tag survivors at the front lines began to blink in bewilderment. Here was there commanding officer, giving his best impression of a pterodactyl, killing aliens like a professional.

About a quarter of them ran, silently thanking the captain for being such a good distraction for the alien. The others shrugged and under the leadership of the surviving sergeants reformed a firing line.

Voth continued to cut and hack at his ork enemies. He was dismally tired and crying hot tears as he groaned and huffed, muttering incomprehensible gibberish back at the charging ork foe.

In short order, a disgusted Nob gestured to some of his shoota’s to finish the idiot outside of cover with the tall cap. Yet, as they aimed, a little imperial miracle occurred: the fire mission coordinates that the company had been waiting on for over half an hour finally bore fruit, and imperial shells rained down before the trench, riddling Voth’s beloved cape with shrapnel holes, and splashing a wave of mud and muck upon his crimson uniform.

“Wait for it meeeeen!” he wailed simpering as he did, but too shocked by the artillery to move. The troopers watching him were genuinely shocked he wasn’t pulverised by shrapnel or incoming rounds. A veteran sergeant even helpfully suggested. “Cap, shouldn’t’ you be takin some cover right about now?”

“THE BAARRRAAAAGEE HAS CEEEEEASSED!” Voth hissed, overcome with emotion to understand current events.

“CHEEEAARRRGE TROOPS! FFFORR TEERRRRRAAAAAA!” He squealed, and charged headlong into a one man charge.

The frontline was confused. Eventually, a lieutenant who had done the logical thing and kept his distance a bit, came and coordinated the troop.

“Right, captain is about to die. If he goes I have command. Cover the captain. If he makes it, we’ll all make a try. Fair?”

A few of the sergeants nodded; that was fair. If an incompetent git like the captain could make it, why couldn’t some hardened heartbreakers make it as well?

Voth tripped into the Ork lines, such as they were. Thankfully, the orks weren’t using trenches perse, more like piles of scrap and trash, along with a few craters. It was fortunate, then, that all Voth managed to stumble into was a pair of grots, who were quickly dispatched by the now completely filthy captain.

With a numbness, Voth fired off a flare into the sky, and dashed through the winding piles of trash, duelling what orks he found.

[This is as far as I got before I tossed the idea out, but there would be about a sentence or two more about how he manages to actually take some Ork names and eventually gets bailed out by some astartes who make his company a premier shock unit in the fleet, and keeps the reputation]

[yesalleykat]

A “Dream” Ending

I had a dream about the ending of Supernatural the other night and I cannot get it out of my head.

It turns out that “Chuck” as he is now is not the real Chuck that we met previously. Instead he is the third sibling to the real Chuck and Amara who has stolen Chuck’s form and imprisoned Chuck’s true essence in a primordial jar (think in terms of what Ursula did to her victims in the Little Mermaid). Basically, this third sibling is the complete loser of the family and he is jealous of what Chuck created and wants to destroy it all, one piece at a time. So, he has taken over and disguised himself as Chuck, has created all this chaos. Amara has known this but has no idea what’s been going on because the fake Chuck’s attention has been completely focused on the Winchesters so there has been no colossal event that would have gotten Amara’s attention to tell her that her other brother is up to no good or that Chuck is imprisoned.

So Cas has the Mark of Cain (which is connected to Amara) and that gets her attention and she goes to see him and they basically clue her in on what’s been going on and she puts it all together and goes in search of what really happened to Chuck. She returns with the jar with the pathetic looking disembodied deity floating around inside of it. But there us a new problem now: In order to stop the fake chuck, they must completely destroy him (vaporize to nothing) which she and Jack can do together but that will leave the world without anyone in control and no balance. The real Chuck cannot do anything in his present state and must take on a new form. He needs a vessel—but not just that—he needs a being to become. Basically, he will absorb completely the soul of and become entirely whatever form he inhabits (because the thing in the jar is only made of primordial power and nothing else). Over time he has had several forms—the last being the Chuck they knew who when human was a creative fiction writer with a kind heart and dorky sense of humor. This time, because the deity is starting from scratch (as opposed to merely jumping forms), and so much wrong has been done in his absence, the new being must be exactly what the world needs from a deity.

So, led by Amara; Dean, Jack, and Castiel all sit around and brainstorm exactly what qualities the new deity needs to have. They must be brave, incredibly smart but also very creative. A peacemaker, a hero, brave, self-sacrificing, loving, compassionate, and forgiving to a fault. This world needs a healer, not a ruler, they decide. And then when the silence lags, Amara looks at Dean and asks, “Who does that sound like to you?” And her eyes flick toward Sam who is just sitting there completely clueless. And Dean basically loses his shit completely. Bangs the table, paces, yells, accuses Amara of declaring war on his family, blah blah blah. Dean says it will never happen. No one else is saying anything. Castiel is sitting, staring at Sam like it’s the first time he’s ever seen him. Jack is sitting very still, processing what he must do as Billie’s plan clicks into place. (Billie, as death, always knew this would be Sam’s ending). Sam is just sitting quietly, staring down at his hands folded on the table. He looks up

               “Dean- “

               Dean’s eyes flash desperately. “No, Sam! Don’t even say it! We are not doing this! Not this! We’ll find someone else! There’s another way, there always is!” His eyes go to Cas in desperate hope of receiving support but the angel just shakes his head.

               “Dean, there is no one else.” He reaches over and covers Sam’s hands with his own “Can you think of a better person than Sam in the world? Can you think of anyone we would be in better hands with?”

               Jack raises his eyes. “This is what Billie meant. I’m to end Chuck and another will replace him.”

               Dean jabs a finger in his direction. “Yeah! You!”

               Jack shakes his head, his eyes sad. “I can’t be God. I have to be…me.”

               Dean is shaking, on the verge of losing control and attacking Amara for bringing this to light. Sam stands up slowly, focused entirely on Dean.

               “Okay, Dean. We don’t have to decide anything right now. We have some time. I’ll do some research, maybe there is someone else. I mean, there has got to be right? I-I can’t possibly be the best this world has.”

               Amara opens her mouth but Castiel gestures for her to be silent.

Hearing Sam’s words, Dean softens, attempts to clarify. “Sammy, I’m not saying you’re not—hell as far as I’m concerned-“

               “It’s okay, Dean.” Sam interrupts, approaching Dean and giving him a quick hug that doesn’t allow Dean time to cling. “I’m tired and we have a lot of-research to do starting tomorrow. I’m going to bed.” He gives Amara a very pointed glance as he leaves the room.

 True to his word, the next day, Sam dives into research to find someone to host Chuck. The day after that Eileen returns for Sam and Dean can’t help but notice there is a new intensity to their relationship.

Time passes, and there is no further mention of Amara’s plan. One day, Sam announces that he and Eileen are getting married. Dean is suspicious but keeps getting blown off by everybody every time he tries to voice it. Sam and Eileen get married and soon after, she announces that she is pregnant.

A few nights later, Sam sits down with Dean in the kitchen and tells him that he has decided to go through with Amara’s plan. He will host the new deity.

               “Sam, I won’t let you do this!” Dean insists. “Even If I have to lock you up in the panic room, so help me, I’m not letting this happen! Don’t you understand, Sammy? It’s not like you’re just being possessed. You won’t exist anymore—anywhere!”

                               Sam grabs hold of Dean’s arm. “That’s not true! Weren’t you listening? Everything I am, all that I am, will be transferred to Chuck-or-or whoever it’s going to be then. I’ll literally exist everywhere!”

               Dean tosses off Sam’s hand, rises and violently throws the beer bottle against the wall where it smashes into tiny shards and leaves a slick trail dripping down the wall. “I won’t have my brother anymore!”

               Sam stands too. “That is why Eileen and I decided that the baby was so important.”

               Dean turns to face him, eyes flashing with anger and shining with tears. “Screw you!”

He starts to leave but Sam’s voice stops him. “This is the most important thing I’m ever going to do and I can’t do it without you, Dean. Please don’t abandon me now.”

It’s Sam’s last day. Jack is positioned to kill Chuck. Amara comes to them with a syringe of amber colored liquid.

               “I have to give him two shots.” She explains. “This one will put him into an irreversible coma. The second one will stop his heart. Once I give him the first shot, he will have twelve hours before he falls under.” She gives Dean a pointed look. “Make it count.”

The boys go for a drive. They find a field- the same one they’ve hung out in countless times over their lives. It’s the field where Sam had his first beer. They sit on the hood of Baby, drink a beer and talk. They say things they’ve never said before, they tell each other everything. Dean listens more intently then ever and commits every part of his brother to permanent memory. Just after sunset, Dean feels drained and lays back against Baby’s windshield. Sam lays back and to Dean’s surprise, rests his head against Dean’s shoulder. Dean leans down and kisses Sam’s forehead. They are both crying.

               “Best big brother ever.” Sam whispers. And then they are silent for a long time until Sam says, “It’s time to get back.”

They make it back to the bunker just as Sam is starting to feel woozy. He lasts long enough to say an adequate goodbye to everyone before falling into a coma. Amara shows up the jar containing the disembodied deity and a syringe filled with purple fluid this time. They sit with Sam for a time, waiting for word that Jack has killed Chuck.

               “How exactly is this going to work?” Dean asks.

               “Once I stop his heart, I will release the deity from the jar. As soon as Sam’s soul is freed from the connection with his body, the deity will take it, along with everything else.” She pauses, pursing her lips as if dreading the next statement. “Sam’s body will completely disappear.”      

Dean’s eyes flash. “What do you mean ‘completely disappear?”

Amara sighs. “He’ll be gone, Dean. Completely gone in every way. Like he never existed except through the life of the deity.”

               “And our baby.” Eileen adds softly.

Dean’s mouth tightens as he stares down at Sam’s still form. Sitting by his side, he takes hold of his brother’s hand.

               Castiel comes rushing in with Jack. “It’s done!”

               There is a slight tremor as a world-wide earthquake starts. The beginning of the world falling in on itself.

               “Hurry!” Jack urges, eyes glowing, hands balled into tight fists at his sides. “I can’t hold it together for much longer!”

               Amara gives Sam the injection as Cas opens the jar containing the deity. Dean, still holding Sam’s hand, gasps and sobs as he feels the life leave his brother. The deity responds immediately to the change, flying into Sam’s slack mouth. Cas grabs Dean and pulls him away just as Sam’s whole body begins glowing. The brightness intensifies until no one can look directly at it anymore. When it stops and they look back, Sam has disappeared.

It’s too much for Dean and he collapses, sobbing helplessly against Cas’ shoulder.

               “Hello, brother.”

Amara’s voice makes everyone look up. There is Sam-but not Sam, standing by the door. He is wearing the radiantly bright white suit and a genuinely serene smile. Dean sniffles and wipes his eyes.

               “Sammy?” He croaks hoarsely, his voice carried only by a final dying ember of hope.

The deity looks at Dean with such compassion that another sob is torn from Dean’s throat.

               “I’m sorry, Dean.” It says softly. “But I along with the whole of heaven and earth thank you for what you have done. Your brother was the best of men and that will make me the best God this world could ask for now.” He steps forward and places a hand Dean’s wet cheek. “A lot of the credit for that goes to you, my friend.” Dean shakes his head helplessly, unable to look away from eyes that are Sam’s and yet, not Sam’s. “You raised him to be who he was. You protected his heart at the cost of your own.” The deity drops his hand and takes a step back. “My first act is something I know that your Sam wanted. I am undoing the rule that souls which have touched hell can never enter heaven.”

A gasp from the angel holding him gets Deans attention. He didn’t even realize that he was still standing in Cas’ arms.

               “Thank you!” Cas whispers, holding Dean a little tighter.

               The deity smiles, Sam’s smile. Seeing it, Dean feels his heart lift slightly even though he doesn’t understand why.

               “It’s because he’s safe Dean.” The Deity explains. “And I have just proven to you that he still exists and that I am paying attention to who he was.” He gives Dean a serious look. “What you are feeling is hope. And even as you miss your brother, you will still feel it, and in time it will grow until it overshadows everything else.”

Dean looks unconvinced and stiffens until Cas drops his arms and lets him step away. The Deity smiles again. “Castiel, you have done so well. I truly could not have asked for a better guardian for this family.” Cas lowers his head as the Deity steps forward and places a fond hand on Cas’ shoulder. “And so I want you to stay and continue to love and protect them as only you can.”

Cas smiles and nods curtly. “It would be my honor.”

The Deity turns his attention to Jack. “You will come with me. You have a lot to learn and much responsibility will be yours.”

The wire holding Dean’s rage in check begins to fray. “You’re taking him too? What the hell? My brother wasn’t enough? They’ll be nothing left when you get done with us!”

               Cas places a hand on his shoulder. “It’s just for a little while, Dean. Jack has to be trained, taught to use his powers and understand his purpose.”

               Dean’s eyes flash. “His purpose? Just being our kid isn’t enough?”

               “I’ll always be your kid, Dean.” Jack steps forward and hugs Dean fiercely. It’s the first real hug they’ve shared since Jack returned. “I love you.”

               Through another sob and more tears Dean whispers. “I love you too, Jack. Always will.”

                 After they’ve gone, Dean spends days drinking himself into oblivion and then months at a time away from the bunker fighting monsters, both internal and external. Cas stays behind to watch over Eileen and the baby growing inside of her.

Sam’s baby, though Dean doesn’t want to hear anything about it. He comes home one time from a particularly nasty hunt, unshaven, having not showered for days, still covered with the blood and gore from Shifters he took apart. Cas and Eileen have decided to make Sam’s old room the nursery and are in the process of building the changing station when Dean walks in. He stands in the doorway watching them until Cas looks up at him hopefully.

               “We could use some help if you want to join us.” He offers.

Dean’s eyes travel to Eileen’s swollen belly and for a second his eyes soften before the hardness returns to them. “I need a shower.” He says and wanders off.

 Jack returns a few days after the baby, a girl named Samantha Mary, is born. Dean is still choosing to stay away from the bunker most of the time and stays as drunk as possible when he is there. He will not go anywhere near the baby and deliberately leaves whatever room he is in if someone comes in with her.

               “It’s breaking my heart.” Eileen confides to Cas one night as they are putting Samantha down for the night. “She’s almost a month old and she looks just like Sam. Dean would fall so in love with her if he would just let himself get near her.” She sighs looking down at her daughter. “She needs her uncle.”

Cas agrees. “And he needs her just as much.” He follows Eileen as she places Samantha in the bassinet. The little girl has recently started learning the make real sounds and gurgles and coos. Dean would absolutely fall in love with her. He taps Eileen’s shoulder to get her attention. “We can’t force it.” He tells her. “Just give it time.”

A few nights later, Dean is coming back from a hunt. He enters the hallway on the way to his room where he can drink himself into sweet oblivion when he hears the baby begin crying. He pauses outside the door and listens, the sound tugging painfully at his heart. She’s in pain, or frightened, or uncomfortable in some way.

She needs help.

Without thinking, Dean lays one hand flat against the door while the other one reaches for the knob. He turns it without realizing he’s doing it and the door is open. The cry is painful and helpless sounding. He moves forward and finds himself looking down into the bassinet, his hands balled at his sides. Her feet are pulled up toward her abdomen, it’s something he knows babies do when their stomach hurts.

She’s in pain.

His heart constricts as he reaches down and gently lifts her, cradling her against his chest and making soothing noises. Glancing around he spies the bottle warmer with the built-in bottle cooler. A marvel of modern convenience! Removing a bottle from the back he places it into the warmer to take the chill off.

She is still crying. Now what? Her diaper feels heavy. He brings her to the changing station and makes quick work of fixing that problem. She even stops crying for a minute and looks at him with large curious eyes.

Sam’s eyes.

Dean’s breath catches as he lifts her again, placing her head against his shoulder and closing his eyes. He was so young, but he can still remember holding Sam like this. Once the bottle is finished, and he sits in the rocking chair, cradling her against the crook of his arm as she drinks. He can’t help smiling when she sighs in relief. Without thinking he presses his lips against the top of her head and that warm, protective feeling he still recognizes comes to life within him.

He hears Sam’s voice in his head, remembers Sam’s words, That is why Eileen and I decided that the baby was so important.

He looks down into his niece’s face and sees his brother looking back at him. Tears flood his eyes until he bows his head to kiss hers again.

               “It’s okay, Sammy.” Dean whispers. “I’ll always be here to take care of you.”

In the hallway Cas smiles and heads back to the living room to continue the game of Halo he and Jack were playing.

[spoopy-imagines-writer]

Worth It

Prompt: “There’s something you should know in case I dont make it back.”

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1620

Warning: angst, fluff, spoilers for season 12 episode 22, slight canon divergence

A/N: This is my entry for @kas-not-cas’s 2.5k Follower Writing Challenge! This reminded me how much I love writing Dean! lol -Jo

Your heart burst with pride as Sam told the hunters his plan to take the fight to the British Men of Letters. This man had been through so much, at one point having been hunted and killed by two of the same hunters in the room. Dean too…

You made a mental note to trip Roy and Walt out in the driveway.

You looked over and saw Dean’s small smile at his baby brother. He’d talked to you before about staying out of this fight, claiming it was because of his leg but you knew that it was because Sam needed to do this, and he needed to find a way to get Mary back. It didn’t make him any less worried though, especially when he would tell Sam.

Sam wrapped up his speech, and Jody herded everyone out of the front door. You turned to face Dean and bit your lip. “There’s something you should know in case I don’t make it back.”

Dean pulled back to get a better look at you. He put a hand on your cheek, his brows furrowing in concern. “What is it, sweetheart?”

You grabbed his hand holding your cheek. Smiling, you kissed his palm. “… It was me who ate your last slice of pizza, not Sam.”

He coughed out a laugh and shook his head at you. “Ya know, I hear normal couples tell each other ‘I love you’ before going into life or death situations.” He kissed the top of your head.

You scoffed. “What kind of chick flicks have you been watching?”

“The kind you make me watch when you’re feeling like a sap.” His voice got rougher with emotion as he watched hunter after hunter file out of the door.

“Hey.” You grabbed his face, forcing his eyes away but his gaze stayed down. “It’ll be okay, Dean. We’re gonna come back from this. I know we’ve got a lot on our plate, but we’ll make it out of this. All of us.” You tried your best to sound confident. Dean was always the one looking after everyone, you knew you needed to be the strong one this time.

He finally looked at you. “You and Sammy take care of each other, okay?”

You nodded. “Promise. You be careful too… Don’t put too much faith in Toni Bevell. Alright?”

He kissed you hard on the mouth, pouring everything he was feeling into it. “Promise… Now go kick some ass, sweetheart.” He turned to see Sam walking towards the two of you.

“You too.” You stood and shot Sam a smile and a thumbs up, and walked away. You didn’t look back, because if you did you worried that Dean might see the worry that finally showed on your face.

It became obvious very quickly that subtlety would get you all nowhere. You followed closely behind Sam and Jody, keeping watch in the sides where they had to watch from the front.

Movement from the right caught your eye and you took out the man of letters who was gunning for Sam. He nodded his appreciation and you all continued forward. There were a few others who were taken care of quickly, and before you knew it you were in the control room. Inside was the man behind the curtain. Well, woman. Immediately you had your gun trained on her. You were expecting anything, especially as she tried making Sam see “reason”. “Listen, Dean-“

“It’s Sam!” you both said at the same time. Sam continued. “You must be Hess, I trust. You’re in charge of this whole operation? Or uh,” he smirked, “what’s left of it.”

She continued talking in a last-ditch effort to keep Sam from just shooting her. She went on about how it would be a grievous mistake to sever ties with the British Men of Letters, and tossed him a file. While he was looking at it, you heard movement from the hallway. Turning quickly, you saw a woman in black aiming a gun at Jody’s back. Just as she pulled the trigger, you shouted, “NO!” and dove in front of the bullet. There was a sharp pain in your middle, and then it turned white-hot. Tears burned your eyes. You couldn’t really focus on hearing anything. You struggled to breathe. Your eyes closed and you didn’t know anything else after that.

Above you Sam took out the person who shot you while Jody took care of Hess. Sam didn’t know if you were alive or dead but he knew he had to get you back to Dean. He picked you up and they ran with you out into the halls of the confusing building. Everything was moving in slow-motion to Sam, and the only person who helped him was Jody. She led him and everyone else out to the cars.

“Sam,” she said, “just lay her down in the back. I’ll stay with her and try to take care of the bullet wound as best as I can, but you need to drive and we need to hurry. Okay?” She put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile, even though he could see through it. You weren’t going to make it, and they both knew it.

He swallowed hard and nodded. He had to get you back to Dean. With that thought in mind, he laid you down in the backseat with Jody and hit the gas as fast as the impala could go.

Dean couldn’t help the relieved smile on his face when his little brother lumbered through the door into the library. His relief was short-lived, however, at the expression on Sam’s face. “Sam… Sammy what happened?” He wouldn’t think it was you. He couldn’t. You were only giving the brothers a few minutes to themselves like you always did after a hunt. That’s all, and then you would come in and make him watch The Notebook or Disney movies, and it would be okay.

“Dean….” Sam swallowed thickly. “Everyone’s okay. We lost a couple of people but… It’s over.” He gave a watery smile to his brother. “Y/n got shot and it was touch and go, but she’s okay. Alive, breathing, and annoying as ever.”

“I heard that!” Dean thought he was hallucinating when he heard your voice from the other room. “Will you two kiss and make up already so I can kiss and make out with you!” He heard the slight strain when you spoke.

“Sweetheart?” Dean limped over into the war room where you were resting in a couple of chairs with your legs propped up. He took notice of the amount of blood soaking your clothes and paled. Your labored breathing filled his ears. “What happened!”

“I’m okay, you big squirrel.” You smiled at him. “Just a little gunshot wound.” Your eyes traveled to his leg still concerned but you would take a look at it later after everyone had settled down. “We have matching gunshot wounds now! We can’t do anything by ourselves, can we?” Your eyes twinkled with mischief. “Nothing a little whiskey and Nicholas Sparks can’t fix. I’m all bandaged up and it’s not bleeding as much anymore.”

“I don’t-“

“Stop,” you interrupted him. “Go be with your brother. He’s a hero, ya know. It might do him some good to hear it. I’ll be waiting right here.”

Dean nodded. He kissed your forehead for a long moment before he went over and pulled his brother in for a tight hug. “I’m glad you’re back, man.” His voice was full of emotion. He stepped back and took a long look at his brother to make sure he didn’t have a scratch on him. He patted his head, neck, and arms just to be sure.

Sam smiled weakly. “I’m fine, Dean. Really, Y/n got the worst of it and she’s gonna be okay. But… There is something I have to tell you.”

Sam explained to you, Mary, and Dean everything that Hess told him before Jody shot her. How Crowley is supposedly dead, how the devil is back in his old vessel. How Kelly was on the verge of giving birth and they still had no idea where her and Cas had gone. You all did research on what signs to look for when a Nephilim is born and it was basically just a lot of anything weird in one spot was where they were. But it couldn’t be just your run-of-the-mill calf with two heads, it had to be something big and something bad.

“You rang?” a familiar voice suddenly came from the end of the table. Dean didn’t even give anyone time to react to Crowley suddenly appearing. He was throwing punches first and asking questions later.

You pulled him back by his shirt with as much strength as you could. “Stop it, you’ll make your leg worse,” you said sternly.

“Sorry, sweetheart…” He winced as he sat back down and curled you into his side.

Crowley sat up and straightened his suit back out. You were all oblivious to the look he shared with the youngest Winchester. Sam clenched his jaw and shook his head. No one needed to know what he did in order to save you. When you stopped breathing… Sam dropped Jody off with one of the other hunters to catch a ride back home.

Crowley’s soft spot for you and the Winchesters worked in his favor. No other demon would deal with him, and Crowley’s counter-offer was a good one. He couldn’t heal you completely, but he could put the gunshot in a different place. Your leg. And looking at you and Dean… he knew it was worth the price he would pay.

TAGS: @kas-not-cas @fangirl1802

[thevioletcaptain]

12x14 The Raid

THE VERDICT

I cried twice and would now like to challenge Bobo Berens to a fight out in the alley.

A play-by-play recap with meta-adjacent notes is under the cut!

ALL THE THINGS

THEN!

Ah, a vampire primer lesson.

Should we count the presence of the grenade launcher in the THEN sequence toward the ongoing theme of #grenadebaiting, or??? :P

Tiny infant S1 Sam saying “You think Mom would’ve wanted this for us?” was the moment I thought “Goddamnit, Berens is going to murder me with this episode.”

Frankly I should have already been prepared. This was an oversight on my part and it won’t happen again. I’ve got my eye on you, Bobo.

NOW!

I’m so glad we’re seeing the rest of this confrontation between Mary & the boys. Also, something I didn’t notice last week (presumably because I’d been so very bored by the episode as a whole, but maybe we didn’t get a wide shot with all of them in frame from this angle… I can’t remember) is that Mary is firmly on the left of the screen (in the wrong) and the boys are on the right (in the… not wrong)

Basically, there’s some classic filmmaking symbolism at play here.

Speaking of symbolism, isn’t it interesting that Sam is the only one who took one of the Margiekugels?

That’s the beer that has been associated with mothers since it was introduced, if anyone forgot… and this was a sixer of the stuff hand-delivered by Mary, so it’s like, Mega Mom Beer

(sound of Rowena hissing MEGA in the distance)

“What the British Men of Letters are doing--what we’re doing--it’s a better way.” 

Oh no, Mary. Don’t plant yourself so firmly in the same camp as the BMoL right now. Putting that “we” in the middle of this confrontation was a terrible idea, and any chance of getting Dean to listen to your viewpoint just went out the window.

“When? When did you start working with them?” The look on Sam’s face here hurts my soul ;-;

“Since… before the lake house. It wasn’t Wally… they brought me that case.”

Oh god. The look on Dean’s face when he first realizes that this means Cas almost died on a hunt Mary lied to them about. He looks like he’s gonna be sick.

“You kept it from us.” He’s on the verge of tears, and Sam is .02 seconds away from jaw-twitch levels of betrayal angst :(

“Cas almost died.” Dean’s wavering voice someone hold me

“A hunter got killed.”

That distinction, though. We know Sam cares about Cas too, but here we see Sam and Dean’s personalities starkly contrasted. Makes me think of the “heart choice vs smart choice” thing from (last?) season. Dean is so much more driven by emotion than Sam, whose drive comes from a more objective place.

Cas ALMOST died. Wally DID die. Obviously Wally actually dying is objectively a worse consequence of the hunt gone wrong, but seeing it that way means discounting personal attachment and taking in the bigger picture, which Dean has never really been able to do.

I’m already a wreck over all this character stuff ;-;

“I’m the one who burned his body. I’m the one who told his wife.”

[cut to Dean clenching his jaw and looking like he’s reliving a painful memory b/c he was almost in that wife’s role… again]

“I watch him die every night.” “Good.”

Dean’s still remembering. Look at his gaze. He says good, because he knows Wally’s wife is probably having nightly nightmares about it, too. He says good, because he’s been there. LBR, he’s probably had super fun Cas-bleeding-out and oozing black goo nightmares ever since it happened. It’s maybe a little spiteful for him to be glad that Mary is guilty about it, but imo entirely justified.

HOW ARE WE ONLY JUST FINISHING THE COLD OPEN OH MY GOD

Hey! Razor wire! Where’s Lizzy’s anon from the other day? Did I get around to reblogging that post? *glances at drafts folder* *sweats*

The BMoL compound feels like a cross between the dingy Campbell compound from S6 and the sleek military Initiative compound from Buffy and some other third thing I can’t quite put my finger on.

Interesting that Mary is driving the BMoL van into the BMoL compound with Ketch in the passenger seat. As the “outsider” here, I’d expect her to be riding shotgun. It’s almost like Ketch is giving her the illusion of control. He’s so manipulative.

Mary and Ketch wore the same outfit how embarrassing for them

Petition to call wearing the same outfit as an antagonist a “foe-pas”

...I’ll see myself out.

That gold vampire killing doodad kinda looks like a giant bullet vibe and I hate myself for thinking it, but I can’t un-think it so now you all get to suffer with me

Mary looks a little disturbed by the way it worked. That’s an unnecessarily painful death for that random vampire.

Ketch on the other hand is like “mmm yes, let me fondly remember the agony I inflicted.”

Oh, Serena. I wish you’d had your chance to slap Ketch right in the mouth.

Mary isn’t allowed to look that good in a tank top when we’re supposed to be kinda disappointed in her actions

MORE OF THE UPSETTING CONFRONTATION WITH INTERCUT GUILTY MARY TEXTING

“You said you needed time. No--you needed space. So we gave you your space. But you didn’t need just space. No, you needed space from us.”

WRAPS ALL OF THEM IN A GIANT BLANKET AND CHANTS BE HAPPY BE HAPPY BE HAPPY

“Try to be a mom.” UGHUGHUGHHHHHHHGHHHHHH SOMEONE GO BACK TO THAT FOREST FROM 12x11 AND FIND THAT BUN SO DEAN CAN PET THE LIL FUZZY EARS UNTIL HE FEELS BETTER ;-;

“I am your mother. But I am not just a mom.”

I’M IN SUCH A STATE RN BECAUSE I’VE WANTED AN “I’M NOT THIS ONE ROLE I PLAY, I’M NOT THE MYTHOLOGIZED MOTHER FIGURE YOU’VE BUILT UP IN YOUR HEAD, I’M A REAL PERSON WITH FLAWS AND GOALS AND INTERESTS AND DISLIKES AND MY OWN SHIT TO DEAL WITH” MOMENT TO ARISE EVER SINCE SHE CAME BACK

BUT ALSO I’M LIKE ;-; DEEEEEEANNNNNN BECAUSE HE NEEDED HER TO BE THE PARENT JOHN FAILED TO BE SO BADLY AND YEAH IT’S TOO LATE FOR THAT BECAUSE HE AND SAM ARE GROWN ASS MEN BUT FINDING OUT THAT MARY WOULD LIE TO THEM, PUT THEM IN DANGER, ALMOST GET CAS KILLED, ACTUALLY GET ANOTHER HUNTER KILLED, ALL IN AN EFFORT TO WORK WITH PEOPLE WHO TORTURED SAM AND BANISHED/TRIED TO KILL CAS??? LIKE. FUCK. THAT’S A REAL KICK TO THE SOLAR PLEXUS.

“And you are not a child.” “I never was.”

CRITICAL HIT

WOMAN DOWN

GODDAMNIT BOBO WHY DID U DO THIS TO ME WHEN ALL I EVER DID WAS LOVE YOU

*sobs uncontrollably for ten minutes*

Also--thanks for the flashback to Dean saying “Hunters are never kids. I never was” in Defending Your Life, because I really needed that double dose of pain right now ;-;

“Between us and them--” “It’s not like that.” “Yeah, Mary. It is.”

OH SHIT SHE’S JUST MARY NOW

FUCKING HELL BOBO

STOPPPPPPP

Remember last week when we were talking about Mary using the “we’re family” line as a get out of jail free card like Cas tried to do in S6? And how Cas learned and grew and now he’s ~earned~ his place as family by putting his money where his mouth is time and again, but Mary isn’t there yet? This whole moment is more of that. Mary had a choice between family and the shady organization with their good-in-theory goals of No Monsters, but she chose it because she thinks it will protect them in the long run. Basically, the S6 Cas & present Mary parallels are destroying me in the best way.

“There’s the door.” Dean can’t even look at her.

Sam’s defers to Dean in asking Mary to leave, but it reads as a pragmatic choice for Sam. Again, he’s approaching things from the head instead of the heart, even though he has more than his fair share of reasons to be distrustful of the BMoL & to be hurt by Mary working with them.

GOD THE CHARACTER STUFF IN THIS EPISODE IS ON FUCKING POINT

Ah, Mick and his sharp suit sitting at his desk and enjoying the boring life while Ketch comes in to smirk at him.

I’m *really* getting to like Ketch and Mick as characters. Goddamn is Ketch an asshole. I can’t wait for him to get his ass handed to him eventually. And I’m super onboard for Mick to defect from the BMoL, which is looking more and more likely with every episode he’s in

Again with talk about the “old men” in charge… they’re almost definitely going to turn up at some point.

I’m glad to have seen a lot of people in a lot of places online all saying “wouldn’t it be awesome if the head of the BMoL is cast as Anthony Stewart Head” because I know that’s something everyone on tumblr started hoping for when Toni first mentioned them in 11.23

I don’t know how realistic it is for him to be cast but hell we’ve had Amber Benson and James Marsters and Charisma Carpenter and uh… who else? Tom Lenk was in Purgatory, right? I think there were others.

Anyway, Operation “Get A Bunch of Buffy Alumni on Supernatural” should be a priority.

Remember when they only had one laptop to share? Who wants to bet that Dean got his own after the last porn virus destroyed all of Sam’s files?

“She lied to us, Sam. For months.” So it’s been months since the thing with Ramiel?? I guess Dean’s excessive “long, long, long, long, long time” rant from last episode makes sense now :P

I can only assume they made so much time pass so that Kelly’s pregnancy would advance further before the next time she appears

Dean and Sam had this exact argument a million times in the past but it was usually Sam and John at odds with each other with Dean as the mediator. Now with their roles switched Dean doesn’t like it.

I’m still not over what a nerd Sam is for having the Aquarian star as his phone lockscreen

That’s a very shiny car Sam’s stolen… my stream is too fuzzy to tell for sure, but is it a Dodge Challenger? Season six flashbacks.

I wonder if he’s had that in the bunker garage for a while. I can’t imagine there are a lot of shiny new cars up for the thieving in the dusty little town of Lebanon, Kansas

Where on earth is this compound supposed to be, btw? Did we see supertext over it earlier? I may have missed it. Just wondering because of the snow which is obviously a side effect of shooting in Vancouver, but I’m still trying to figure out dates, and depending on the time of year we’re in, that much snow near Kansas seems like a lot. But Sam didn’t change his shirt so it mustn’t be *that* far away.

I guess this information doesn’t actually matter all that much but I WANNA KNOW THE TIMES AND DATES AND LOCATIONS, DAMMIT.

Mary never wanted this life for her kids, and this is her ill-advised method of making sure they don’t have to live it anymore. But she’s made the mistake of assuming they don’t want this for themselves. Sam might have longed for a “normal” life in the past but he’s got a new baseline for normal now, and this episode along with quite a few moments recently have shown that he does need to help, he does need to fight. He wouldn’t be satisfied with civilian life, even if the constant peril of being a hunter isn’t what he wanted.

I’m still holding out hope for Sam’s endgame placing him in a kind of Bobby Singer role at the head of a reformed MoL, where he helps out hunters with information and spells, because witch!Sam. And also Eileen is there and occasionally Jody. *dreamy sigh* pls spn

The first part of that is almost 100% what’s being set up though, so I can still feel reasonable when I hope for the rest :P

ANYWAY back to the episode

Mary has palmprint access privileges :o

No handshake for Mick lmao

“Low budget Mission Impossible vibe” pffff I do like it when Sam is catty

“Sammy? Luuucy?”

Sorry Dean, but I Love Lucy references stopped being fun and started being terrifying the moment Sam said yes to Lucifer back in S5. If we hadn’t just had a season of Lucifer-possessing-Cas this moment would be making me VERY nervous

I’m still a teensy bit nervous tbh

But I can’t remember if we’ve had any more of those Mary-as-a-vessel moments since early in the season, so I don’t know if that’s a thing that is still potentially on the cards

Sam’s handwriting looks weird but why

Mick is so huffy about Ketch being gone

“How’d you find us?” Dean, hon. Lmao

Honestly is there a Winchester that Ketch doesn’t want to get into the pants of?

I’m so endeared to Mick at this point he’s such a nerd

Love that flashback to the Alpha’s creepy fingernail

Pierce is so familiar why is he so familiar

ONLY ELEVEN VAMPIRES LEFT IN THE MIDWEST YIKES

MO REST MOTEL PFF

This vampire offering a nice cup of fresh human blood to the survivor vamp is so intense

The Alpha does like making an entrance

Ketch drinking his scotch like “when in doubt, pinky out” and like… moaning at the taste while he stares Dean down

Keep it in your pants, Ketch.

I should just put that as a comment on every episode he’s in at this point

Look at these two with their posturing nonsense

Ketch you are SUCH A CREEP AND I DON’T TRUST ANYTHING YOU’RE SAYING.

Which, btw… props to David Hadyn-Jones because he seems like a total sweetheart so A+ on the acting there, pal

“The Men of Letters is an excellent fit for someone with our... inclinations.”

Would you like to queercode that a little more, or nah?

(for real though, remember when we had the MoL flashbacks in Slumber Party (I think it was in Slumber Party) and there was all that discussion of how very queercoded the organisation was & how the two dudes playing chess were clearly lovers? Because really.)

Anyway: KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS, KETCH.

“You’re a killer, Dean Winchester. So am I.” this fucker

He’s MoC Dean. He’s describing MoC Dean. The actual Dean we saw in 12x11 with all his hangups and memories stripped away? He was a fighter, sure. But he’s not a killer.

Basically, another example of the MoL and their poor intel

How dare this episode make me think of Rufus :(‘

NGL I kinda wished Dean would be following on Dorothy’s motorcycle just then

Mick’s “Where the hell are you?” text made me snortlaugh

JESUS I’m only halfway through the episode and this is an eight page google doc

“Ready?” “Always.” *Dean rolls his eyes because Ketch is such an ass*

Something about this empty hotel just made me think of the bit in Jurassic Park where the velociraptors are stalking the kids through the kitchen but I have no idea why

“So it wasn’t a sales pitch? ‘Cause it was a good one.” Sammmmm you’re so gonna end up being a MoL guy on your own terms & I’m so here for it

Welp, time to die, random BMoL security guy. Who on earth thought it was a good idea to put you outside the fence though? *tuts at poor planning skills*

The stream I’m watching is SO FUCKING JUMPY ugh

KETCH YOU ARE SUCH A CREEP

WHY DO YOU GET OFF ON VIOLENCE SO MUCH

DEAN IS PROFOUNDLY UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT FROM THE START

TRY AND CALL HIM A COLD HEARTED KILLER AGAIN KETCH

“I’ll make it quick.” because Ketch would fucking take his time and enjoy the killing UGH HE’S SUCH A CREEP

WHAT A GOOD CHARACTER I HATE HIM :D

Ruh roh the vampires have turned up

That hand scanning thing is exactly why you NEVER PUT YOUR SECURITY OUTSIDE THE COMPOUND JFC

The BMoL have zero planning skills just saying

“Our intel has him in Morocco. He’s been there at least a decade.”

Oh, BMoL you have TERRIBLE INTEL

Thanks Mary for decapitating that vamp before his laughing got even more obnoxious

The first time I watched this it looked like the long-haired BMoL dude put that rope on the table and then Sam gave him a ? look and he glanced at Pierce and I was just like “are you kidding me, did they just imply that this dude just carries around his fucking bondage rope at all times?” but now on a rewatch with better image quality it seems like that was someone else that put it there & that was more of an “i don’t have any weapons and we’re all gonna die” look rather than an “welp i never thought i’d have to expose my kinks to a room full of people” look

That said, my initial reading has no bearing on anything and isn’t like… technically disproven. So what the hell, I’m keeping it. Headcanon accepted.

Sam’s face when he sees the Colt ;-;

SAM’S FACE WHEN MARY ADMITS THAT SHE STOLE IT FROM RAMIEL

The moment he realizes that she never said anything while Ramiel threatened them all, while Cas was dying… fuck. You can pinpoint the moment his heart breaks.

Funnily enough that’s also the moment I died.

Again.

How many times can I die in one episode? Will I beat Dean’s record? Only time will tell.

But he pushes past it. Sets his feelings aside to get the job done.

Interesting that he calls Bobby his buddy--the same descriptor he gave to Rufus earlier--when previously he’s referred to him as his surrogate father. I wonder if this is more for Mary’s benefit, or just part of how he seems determined to reveal as little as possible to the BMoL.

I love that he remembers the spell to create more bullets.

Sam + spells = a very happy me

Mick is so awkward with the spellcasting godddd he’s such a pencilpushing nerd

I can’t wait for him to get roughed up and ditch the BMoL

JESUS PIERCE WHY

NOOOOO SERENA D:

I love Rick Worthy’s delivery so much.

“I’ve seen your work in England. I didn’t get involved, because well… it’s England. But America? America is my home. And it is time you get off my lawn.”

Considering the whole BMoL as a metaphor for far right politics thing that has been consistent all season… well. Let’s just say that even though SPN does have some missteps and does fuck up a bit, I love that this show is written by a bunch of big ol’ lefties. Gives me a real warm fuzzy.

“All clear here, big daddy” LMAO WHY PIERCE WHY

SWOOSHY SLICK BULLET EXCHANGE SEQUENCE AW YISS

SLOW MO COLT FIRING AWWWWW YISSSSSSS

SUPER GROSS ZOOM THROUGH THE HOLE IN THE ALPHA’S HEAD

I think Mick and Ketch broke up.

I have mixed feelings about this reconciliation between Dean and Mary.

On the one hand, YES. Character growth! Dean pulling his head out of his ass and realizing that Mary is entitled to make her own choices, that she’s not just a cookie-cutter perfect mother ideal like the one he’s been imagining since he was four, that they’re all adults, that she’s not to blame for just being a goddamn person instead of a fairytale.

And also, YES! They aren’t letting the fight escalate into ridiculous territory.

BUT

But

The thing is, Dean wasn’t angry about her making choices he disagreed with.

He was angry because she lied. Because she put them in a situation where Cas nearly died (and Wally did) without giving them all the information. Without giving them MOST of the information. He still doesn’t know about the Colt, and I doubt that the fact that she’d stolen something from Ramiel and not said anything about it while Cas was choking on his own half-rotten insides will go over well when he does find out.

Basically, I’m glad he’s decided to move past the childish cold-shouldering, because it didn’t solve anything. I’m glad he’s finally understanding that Mary is a person, not just a mom. But she really didn’t deserve the apology Dean just gave her.

In fact, I’d say that Sam, Dean and Cas all deserve a FULL apology from her, with all the details about the Colt included.

She’s been making the same kind of better-in-the-long-run bigger-picture bad decisions that every member of TFW has made at some point, and I do think she’ll redeem herself fully, but she has to earn that trust back, and she needs to be completely honest before that can happen.

“We have ways of dealing with hunters who go rogue. They aren’t pleasant.”

Sam and Mary both say good, because they saw how quickly Pierce handed them all over. Dean says nothing, because he saw how much joy Ketch takes in hurting people.

They’re all missing information. Like the BMoL, they need to share with the whole damn class so they can get on the same page. They need to find the gaps in their knowledge or they’re weakening themselves. Ugh, Bobo. Why are you so good?

Sam’s almost definitely gonna reshape the MoL from the inside and I can’t wait.

Also that final shot of Sam and Mary in the compound fully, Dean by the driver’s side of the Impala which is half in, half out of the compound… What did I say before about visual symbolism? MacCarthy does it well. I think I forgot to mention it much in this recap though. Ack. Maybe I’ll make a separate post later.

ALL THE OTHER THINGS

Didn’t pass Bechdel-Wallace (I don’t think? Unless Mary and Serena had a conversation that I’ve forgotten about.) Bobo, you really doomed yourself when you tweeted this:

(I still love ya, dude. But c’mon. You can do better with this.)

This was SUCH a good character episode for Sam, Dean, and Mary.

What I see as Sam’s endgame (running a MoL/hunter hub out of the bunker like a more modern Bobby) seems much more likely after this episode, and that fills me with joy

This was kinda Dean-lite (the episode was shot just after Danneel had the twins, and Jensen was given a lighter load so he’d be able to have longer at home with them) but the parts with him were so rich character-wise that I barely… well, I was about to say I barely even missed him but that’s a dirty rotten lie :P

Bondage Man of Letters will live forever in my heart

Even if I hadn’t thoroughly enjoyed this episode & cried twice, I’d still be pumped because of the preview for next week. Dean in his holy fire glasses? DEAN IN HIS HOLY FIRE GLASSES WHILE ALSO WEARING THE BI PLAID? Just set me on fire, jfc.