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call-sign-shark · 1 year ago

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Brummie, I've been waiting for this for so long!! I am hopping up and down!! So here is my comment for the grand final of Killing Me Softly.

First of all the many descriptions of Y/N movements smooth and pleasant to read, so smooth it was very easy to imagine her. I also particularly appreciate the details you've put in this last chapter and how you scattered proof to explain Tommy's accident. The whole enquiry with the silencer, the untouched meds etc was incredibly well built and it made us realize Tommy's plans along with Y/N. Even though I suspected he hurt himself, I could not help but be disgusted and shocked by it. His madness reached a point of no return. It wasn't the fact she shot himself that got me wincing though, but more than he didn't took his meds and clearly put his life in danger to force his wife to be loving with him. That's sick and twisted. As sick and twisted as his constant way of gaslighting her, like "Y/N you can barely fucking spell, yet your reading this" // "Did you annoy the horse?" // "Your mother is crazy, maybe it's something about genetics". This is an excellent demonstration of your understanding of manipulating and narcissistic behavior.

Obviously he knew for the baby because, as you justly said, Tommy always wins which means Tommy always ends up knowing everything. Details such as him touching her stomach and looking down at her belly were amazing. Along with him being aware she is carrying his baby, I could not help but gasp when at the construction of the heavy and tall fence. Arrow House has never been welcoming to her considering her relationship with Tommy, but now it has been turned into a literal giant cage and I think it's a powerful image which echoes to her life.

Now I must talk about my favorite part of this whole chapter: the scene with Arthur and John. While the two brothers are bragging, laughing and drinking, I love your depiction of Tommy as really quiet and just observing his wife. Also when he keeps her from drinking alcohol I grinned because ... I knew he knew about the baby: that was brilliant. Moreover, I particularly appreciate the moment Arthur tried to teach her a bit more about how to use a gun. This was such an intense scene, with Tommy observing the whole moment and then slipping behind her and whispering in her ear with that threatening tone of him. Also... Arthur, babe, she would have need real lessons. Maybe she wouldn't have missed your psychotic brother.🙄 I was on the edge of my seat during this whole moment 'cause I was pretty sure the knowledge she learned would be useful later and how God I was right! Between the silencer and her attempt to kill Tommy, I came to the conclusion that it was an incredible fore-shadowing you've created here. ( Also just: " We'll soon make a Peaky out of you" Arthur laughed winking to you as he walked off in search of more whisky." AWW HE'S CUTE.)

The last interaction between Y/N and Tommy was chilling. In truth, my mouth was agap and my eyes wide open😂 When he talked about how he managed to declare Y/N's mother clinically insane I was yelling at my laptop. I swear, he did it only to keep her mother out of the picture. All nice and quiet. 'Cause she would have ended up suspecting something if she wasn't sedated. All of this comment leads now to the most wonderful soliloquy of this last chapter: Tommy's declaration of love and madness. His delusion when she misses is so big he thinks she sparred him, and that was a very terrifying way to portray the extent of his madness. But I think the most awful line is

"When this one is born, I'll put another in you then another until that whole house is filled" He smiled unnervingly as his eyes darted back to Arrow House in the distant. " You and me yeh, our own little family"

Wow just wow. I can only applause at the apotheosis of horror you're gifting us. This, combined with the very depressive conclusions, is a prophecy. Not just a crazy wish. That's what going to happen and there's nothing we can do about it. Being used as a laying hen and a sextoy for a crazy man child, that's a fate worst than death.

As a conclusion, we can say that this was an incredible and breathtaking ending, Brummie. Obviously, I was expecting it to be dark but at some point I thought it would end with Y/N murdering Tommy or killing herself or maybe both, why not? Yet, choosing to conclude such a heavy story with zero hope and zero change in her situation was a bold move. Not only you're crushing your audience's hopes for Y/N but, she remains in a status quo. Nothing changed from the beginning to the end because it was always meant to be so. Tommy will hunt her down all her life if she tries to escape: her fate inevitably leads to him.

Thank you for this hellish ride. Killing Me Softly is going to haunt me for years, and it has made its way in my favorite stories of all time. You're an incredible writer, and I'll be forever thankful for Dark! Tommy despite him being a madman, 'cause that's thanks to this story that we've met. 🖤

So here it is everyone, the last part to my Dark!Tommy series "Killing Me Softly". It has been a wild ride with lots of twists and turns, but like all things we've sadly come to the end. I want to thank every single one of you for your comments, reblogs and likes. I have been overwhelmed by the love and support you have all shown this series! I really can't thank you enough. I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments, if you liked the final chapter, if it finished the way you expected it to or even the way you wanted it to. Thank you to all of you once again, I couldn't have finished it without you!

Brummie xxx

PREVIOUS PART

Killing Me Softly (DARK!TOMMY/ PART TEN)

Summary: After the troubling discoveries you made the previous night in Tommy's office, everything finally comes to an end when you learn of one more sadistic act your husband made in his cruel crusade to make you love him.

Warnings: Language, toxic marriage, psychological abuse, controlling behaviour, manipulative behaviour, psychological mind games, Dark!Tommy ( This is a dark fic, please read the warnings before continuing)

" Phenobarbital, fuck where is it?" you mumbled under your breath as you sat on the sofa, frantically searching through a dictionary you had found in the study the next morning, your head turning to the door every other minute afraid your husband would walk in.

Rubbing your forehead you brought your fingers to the space between your brow, pinching the skin as exhaustion started to take over. You hadn't slept last night and had been throwing up on and off all morning. The strain pulling behind your eyes from searching through countless books for the past hour had started to give you a thumping headache, you were drained, desperate to close your eyes and sleep. Trying to relieve some of the tension throbbing against your head, you massaged one of the sides of your temple as you continued to look through the book resting on your lap. Turning the next page your eyes scanned down the text until finally, you found it " Phenobarbital from the barbiturates family. A white crystalline powder often used by patients suffering from epilepsy. Also used in small amounts to subdue those suffering with anxiety and sleep deprivation in the form of a sedative" Sedative...there it was again. Your mother didn't suffer from epilepsy and neither had sleep or anxiety problems. He was having her sedated, but why? Had she angered him? Had he grown tired of paying for her care? Or was it simply another way to get back at you? Running your hands through your hair, fear and panic started to quickly rise within you, your stomach turning at his unforgivable actions. You was scared for your mother, not only for her ongoing care but now for her life. He had played you again, fooled you one last time. If you was ever going to escape this marriage you would have to play along until you found a way out, if there even was one.

"Y/N, what are you doing in here?" You heard your husband say walking into the room. Quickly shutting the book you pushed it under the cushions beside you as you reached for the newspaper in front of you.

" Just reading" you said looking up at him as he sat down next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Reading?" he cocked an eyebrow as he took the paper from you." Daily Mails business column" he said clearing his throat as he read the page." Y/N you can barely fucking spell, yet your reading this" he scoffed throwing it on the coffee table in front of him. Turning your head away you brought your fingers up to your mouth as tears threatened to escape, his childish dig at you striking deeper than you thought it would. Already in a heighten state of emotions you felt that you was on the verge of breaking at any given moment. All you desperately wanted was for someone to comfort you and and take you away from the hellish nightmare you was living. Yet here you was, stuck with a man crueler than the Devil himself, all hope within you being crushed with every word he spoke.

" I've made an appointment for you" he said as he turned to face you lighting a cigarette. " A doctor downtown" he finished leaning into the sofa, his thumb brushing down the back of your neck." You listening to me?"

" Hm?..oh, yes. A doctor. Why would I need a doctor?" you questioned pulling yourself away from your worries, your fingers digging into the soft fabric of the sofa as you looked up into his insistent stare. It took every part of you to hold back the questions burning within you, the revelations you had learnt last night forming a knot in your already uneasy stomach.

" Why would you need a doctor?" He repeated as he lent forward tapping the ash from his cigarette into the glass tray in front of him. " Well darling, i think you might have come down with something. Heard you throwing up most of the morning. Now what could possibly cause that, hm?" he asked, taunting you, waiting for you to crack and tell him what he already believed he knew.

" I'm fine Tommy it must have been the champagne from last night" you dismissed unable to look at him as your eyes fixated on your fingers playing nervously with the hem of your dress.

"We're going Y/N. Tomorrow at noon" he said taking your chin with his thumb, lifting your head to face him.

" We? Tommy..."

" Yes we, you're my wife. I'll be in the room with you, that's not a problem is it? It's not like I haven't seen everything already" He said as his eyes quickly darted down to your stomach then back to you. Shaking your head you brought your hands into your lap, as you mentally tried to figure out how to get out of your now impending appointment.

"Good" he said as he let go of your chin. " I'm going out, I won't be long. Some men will be arriving soon to do some work around the property" he told you as he stubbed his cigarette out.

" What work?" You questioned as you watched him stand up, straightening out his waist coat.

" Fencing for around the house, and a new gate. A big one" he said as a small chuckle left his lips. "You should rest darling, your little late night reading session looks like it's warn you out" he advised as he bent down placing his hand firmly to the back of you neck, pressing his lips to yours as his tongue brushed into your mouth. " Oh sweetheart, you really do get me going" he laughed darkly as he looked down at his trousers, sending you a wink. " Ta-ra!" he said as he strolled out the room with his hands in his pockets, leaving you in a state of worry and confusion at his sly comments and clear change in behaviour. Had you angered him?

For the better part of an hour you had been walking aimlessly around the property, one of Tommy's henchman back surveying you, his eyes never leaving you. Leaning against the cold stone of your home Arrow House you nervously bit your nails as you watched the workmen Tommy had hired to build the fencing around the house stack bricks on the ground. In less than twenty- four hours everything had dramatically changed, Tommy's calm loving temperament along with it. Did he know you had found out what he had been doing, what he had been doing to your mother? Or had he discovered that you was carrying his child? As you watched one of the large metal gates being lifted, one or both of the questions you had been mulling over had to be the answer to his sudden change in demeanor, why else would he be doing this. It was now a race to see which one of you was going to break first, which one of you was going to confront the other.

"Harry!" you shouted as you watched the stable boy walk into the barn in the corner of your eye. Jogging over to him you held your coat around your chest from the cool autumn breeze, Tommy's man watching your every move. "Harry?" you said again as you entered the barn when he quickly turned around taking his flat cap off.

"Mrs Shelby" he replied glancing up quickly only for his eyes to dart back to the hay he was breaking up in front of him.

" How are you?" You questioned, seeing the hestiation in him to even look your way. Walking over you tried to catch his line of sight as he continued busying himself, ignoring your attempts to talk with him. " Harry, is everything ok?"

" Oh yes Mam, very well. Mr Shelby wants me to clean the stables out, lots to do" he said as he picked up a handful of hay placing it in a large tin bucket.

" I can see that" you replied with a chuckle as you looked around the barn. " What's this?" You said as you picked up a strange looking black barell on top of a stack of hay.

" Don't know Mam, found it as I was mucking out. Looks like part of a gun" Harry said as he walked over to Tommy's stallion.

"It does doesn't it" you replied as you furrowed your brow, turning the object around in your hand. "Oh please, let me help" you said putting the unusual find back down without giving it a second thought as you walked over to Harry feeding Tommy's horse.

" Can I ?" You said as you put your hand out for the bucket, which harry handed over with a small smile quickly returning to his other jobs.

" Hello you" you said as you stroked down the stallion's mane. He was a beautiful horse with the most hypnotizing eyes you had ever seen. He had gained quite the reputation among the people working at Arrow House. His temperament was unpredictable, the only person he would let ride him was Tommy. Reaching into the bucket you pulled out a handful of hay, stroking his neck as you fed him.

" Fuck, he bit me!" you said as you pulled your hand away, staring back into the darkness of his eyes as he flared his nostrils at you.

" Mrs Shelby!" Harry said, dropping the broom he had been using to sweep the floor as he hurried over to you.

" It's alright Harry, he didn't draw blood" you said as you looked back at Tommy's horse staring at you, his eyes as dark as coal.

"I'm sorry Mam, he's been acting up all morning. I should've warned you" the young stable boy said as you turned to face him.

"Maybe he misses my mare" you told him, trying to ease the worry in his eyes " But nothing could be done, she was lame the poor thing" you said as you looked over to her empty stall.

"Lame? She wasn't la.." Harry started to say until the voice of your husband interrupted him.

" Darling, there you are" Tommy said entering the barn, as your eyes widened at the words you was sure the stable boy was about to say. " What happened there?" Tommy said approaching you, a cigarette hanging between his lips as he took your injured hand into his.

" Your horse bit me" you said bluntly pulling away from his hold, tears welling in your eyes at the latest exposed truth in Tommy's cruel unstoppable mission to torment you.

" Well did you upset him?" Tommy chuckled as he stroked down his horse, whispering words into his ear.

" Fuck off Tommy..." you said pushing past him, cradling your hand as you glanced one last time at the black barell still sitting on the side, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by your husband.

"What did you just say, eh?!" Tommy shouted as he stormed out the barn grabbing the object Harry had found, placing it in his coat pocket. " Hey! What the fucks a matter with you?" Tommy said as he caught up to you, taking you by your wrist.

" You killed my horse!" you said turning around, pushing him away from you.

" Fucking hell" Tommy muttered under his breath. " Darling, we've already gone through this. Yes, I shot her, she was lame"

" She wasn't though, was she Tommy? Is that what you do? Drug and kill when something becomes an inconvenience to you?" you shouted letting the information you had learnt slip out as Tommy tilted his head in response. You had read more than his black book, he quickly thought to himself. "You're a bastard " You said bringing your hand up to slap him, when he grabbed you by your arm.

" I wouldn't do that if I was you darling. You're In no place to judge me. Not with the news I received last night. You want to tell me about it or shall I just wait until I get confirmation tomorrow hm?"

" Don't know what you're talking about Tommy, didn't see it written down in that secret little book of yours. You're slipping!" you shouted back, refusing to answer his question, your own anger at his twisted behaviour boiling over.

" Tut tut tut, well haven't you been busy. Have you been going through my things sweetheart? Tommy said pulling you into him, his eyes piercing down at you.

"Tommy lad!" Arthur shouted out the car window, honking the horn as he and John pulled up beside you. Letting go of you Tommy stepped back, turning to face his brothers.

" I need whisky, and a lot of it after the bellowing I just go from Esme" John said as he got out the car walking over to you both.

" That makes two of us. Must be a full moon tonight brother" Tommy replied with a laugh as he looked back at you with a smirk whilst him and John walked into the house.

" Y/N love, come on" Arthur said putting his arm around your shoulder as you reluctantly followed them in. The last thing you wanted to do was endure a night of watching the three of them all drink themselves into oblivion, but once again it looked like you had no choice in the matter.

For the past two hours you had been sitting on the sofa begrudgingly listening to John and Arthur talk about all the various women they had been with and men they had killed, tallying them up to see which one of them had the most, the whisky clearly doing the talking for them when the conversation turned even more graphic in every sense. But Tommy...he was quiet, he had barely uttered a word the entire time. Instead he had been watching you, staring at you relentlessly as he sipped on his whisky. One sharp look to him had him scoffing at you as he shook his head, downing the rest of his liquor whilst he walked over to you. Just as you reached for a glass of whisky yourself Tommy grabbed it from your hand, throwing the alcohol into the fire next to him.

" I don't think so Y/N" he said looking down at you as your face reddened in embarrassment.

" Here, I'll make you a gin and tonic" John said as he stood up, nearly falling over, the warm lull of the whisky numbing his movements.

" Or just the tonic" Tommy sneered as he stared you down once more before walking away.

" I'm fine John, thanks" you said as you collected your hair to one side, bringing your knuckles up to your mouth as your elbow rested on the arm of the sofa. He knew, he had to. Why hadn't he confronted you?

" Right, everyone shut up and take a look at this" Arthur said as he pulled out a gun. " Brand new, never been shot, acquired under... illegitimate circumstances" he sniggered, holding it up for everyone to see.

" Bloody hell here he goes again, nobody cares about your new gun Arthur" John laughed as he leant back into his armchair looking up at the ceiling.

" Well I bloody care!" Arthur replied stubbornly as John continued to laugh." Y/N, take a look. Beautiful ain't it?" Arthur said as he walked over to you, presenting it like someone would their newborn child.

" Yeh, it's erh...nice Arthur" you replied smiling back to him.

" You ever held a gun before Y/N?"

"No" you shook your head as he held it out for you take.

" Go on, hold it, she won't bite" Arthur chuckled as Tommy and John watched on. " Heavier than you'd think ay?

" It is" you said, surprised by the weight of the cool piece of metal in your hand. "What does this do?" you asked as your thumb rested over a small lever at the top.

" Ooh, no no don't touch that" he laughed looking back to his brothers. " That's the safety, we don't want to shoot anyone's balls off tonight" he chuckled as he clicked it up and down showing you how it worked. " Hold it like this" Arthur motioned to you as your eyes quickly darted to Tommy leaning against the mantle of the fireplace, his chin lifted as his eyes narrowed in on you, watching your every move. "Good" he praised as he helped you up, turning you to look at yourself in the mirror hanging on the wall. " We'll soon make a Peaky out of you" Arthur laughed winking to you as he walked off in search of more whisky.

Lowering your hand you looked at your reflection in the mirror as Tommy walked behind you, wrrapping his hand around your stomach.

"Like this" your husband said, placing his hand over yours, moving your finger under the trigger as he raised it back up to both of your reflections.

" Bang" he said quietly in your ear, aiming the gun at your heart in the mirror as his thumb rubbed over your stomach. " You think you could take a life sweetheart?" he asked as he turned his head into your neck, his lips inches from your skin.

" If my own was in danger" you replied turning to face him, a tear falling down your face. He was scaring you, his questions leaving an unsettling feeling in your stomach.

" Your life's never been in danger darling" he said as he lowered the gun in your hand, his other coming up to brush the tear from your cheek.

" But everyone I have known or loves me life is" you replied as you freed your hand from under his. "Tommy why, why would you do that to my mother?" You quietly sobbed as you stared back at him, searching his eyes for an answer, the first to finally break.

"You're tired Y/N, you don't know what you're talking about. Come on let's go to bed" Tommy replied ignoring your questions as he took your hand.

" No. Stop treating me like a child Tommy, answer me. Everything was perfect, but you just couldn't stop yourself, why?" You asked as you pulled your hand away from him stepping back.

" We'll talk about it tomorrow? Now come on" he said taking back your hand as you resisted once more. " You're making a scene Y/N. Do you really want to do this in front of everyone?" He said through gritted teeth as he placed his palm on your lower back pushing you with him to the door as you shook your head in response, reluctantly following him. The last thing you wanted to do was anger him, you knew what would happen if you did, and with your mother being in a vulnurable situation you feared what he would do next. " We're going to bed" Tommy announced as he put Arthur's gun down on the coffee table, his brothers chuckling in resposne.

" Alright Tom boy. Nighty night, have fun" Arthur smiled as he pulled a black barell out his jacket attaching it to his gun.

" What's that?" You said stopping, pulling your hand from Tommy as you turned to face Arthur.

"Y/N, come on" Tommy insisted his grip on your back firmly pushing you forward.

" It's a silencer love, so our little...missions go unheard" Arthur replied as you was half-way out the door when you turned to look at Tommy, his eyes darting between you and Arthur as he cleared his throat. A silencer. It looked identical to the object Harry had found in the barn. Why would there be a silencer in the stables? Tommy's sudden uneasy behaviour had you quickly believing whatever the reason was it was to do with him.

Sitting at the small kitchen table the next morning you buried your head in you arms. Another restless night, two days of almost no sleep, you was barely able keep your head up. Not only was you worried for your mother you had this ongoing feeling in you stomach that something wasn't right. The way Tommy reacted last night when you saw Arthur's silencer had unsettled you. Looking up at the clock you realised you was only a few hours away from the appointment Tommy had made for you, one you knew you had know way of avoiding. Tommy would soon learn you had been keeping the news of your pregnancy from him. Would he go easy on you with his punishment, now you was carrying his child? A part of you already believed he knew your was pregnant, the small touches to your stomach his eyes lingering on your belly, the remarks he would make. What you didn't understand was why he hadn't said anything, what was he waiting for?

" Would you like some tea Mam, let me serve you a cup in the dinning room" Frances said as she walked into the kitchen with an armful of items.

" Oh, no thank you Frances, I quite like being in here watching you all" you said as you lifted your head, the busy noise from the kitchen calming your nerves.

" Mr Shelby will be waiting for you though"

" Let him wait" you said as you brushed your hair back from your face as she gave you a small smile, placing the items on the table in front of you.

" Frances...where did you find that?" You said as you reached your hand out to a small bottle she had placed on the counter.

" In the guest room Mam, I've only just got round to putting it away"

" Which guest room?" You questioned as you held the bottle in your hand, your leg bouncing up and down at the sudden surge of anxiety coursing through your limbs.

" The small one, where Mr Shelby slept when he was sick" she replied as she scrunched her brow at the tears now welling in your eyes, your head shaking in disbelief. The bottle was still sealed, Tommy never took the medicine the doctor prescribed him that night. He let himself get sick. The silencer, the medicine, the vague explanation he gave that night...it suddenly all made sense. He shot himself.

"Mam are you ok?" Frances asked as she reached her hand out to you when you abruptly stood up, bolting out the kitchen into the foyer. Your head was spinning, the sudden realisation of events churning your stomach as a crescendo of panic overwhelmed you. He shot himself, the sick bastard shot himself. He said he was coming back from the stables that night. The same stables where harry just so happened to find the strange black object as he was clearing out the barn, the object you now knew was a silencer made for a gun. He shot himself in almost the exact same place from a previous bullet wound. He knew he wouldn't die, he survived it once he would survive it again. As you tried to make sense of everything, the words Tommy left you with that night suddenly rang in your ears "You will learn to love me again". The man who would stop at nothing to keep you under his control, to keep you hoping for the boy he once was executed the most ultimate act of desperation for your love.

Running to the phone you frantically tried to form a clear sentence to the operator on the end of the line as you desperately asked her to put you through to Polly.

" Yes Miss Polly Gray, try Watery la..." You started to say when you felt a warm hand take the receiver from you, placing it back down onto the table.

" What are you doing love?" Tommy said, breathing against the back of your neck as you slowly turned around to face him, his eyes boring into you as he watched the tears fall down your face.

" Stay away from me, you fucking stay away from me!" you shouted at him as you walked backwards to the front door.

"Y/N" he warned you, unable to hold back the smirk forming on the corner of his mouth.

" You sick twisted bastard!" You screamed as your back hit the large wooden door.

" Now I know you didn't mean that " he replied pointing at you as he started walking slowly towards you. Turning around you fumbled to undo the lock, pushing it with force as your ran out the house down to the bottom of the path.

" Should we go after her?" one of Tommy's men said stood in the foyer.

" No leave her, she won't get far" Tommy replied as he lit a cigarette walking out the front door. " Come back inside darling, it's cold!" he shouted as he watched you run to the large gate at the end of the drive pushing it back and forth as you tried to open it. " It's locked sweetheart" he said as he approached behind you like you would a wild horse.

" Get away from!" You cried as you started walking along the fence in the hopes of finding an exit.

" Alright then, we'll go on a little walk eh?" Tommy chuckled as he caught up with you, reaching his hand out for you to take as if you was going on a romantic stroll through the countryside. Slapping it away you glared at him as he laughed in response, amused by the whole situation.

" Stay away from me Tommy. You're fucking insane! What kind of person shoots themselves for their wife's sympathy" you said as Tommy grabbed you by the arm spinning you around to face him.

" You're loosing it sweetheart if you've convinced yourself of that"

" You're not so clever Tommy, I figured it out. Harry found the silencer in the barn. You shot yourself that night and you didn't take the medicine the doctor prescribed. Why...because you couldn't stand the fact I hated you, so you forced me to take pity on you, to give you a second chance, forced me to feel something for you again. You seethed, pushing his hand away as you stormed off.

" Think you've been reading too many novels darling" Tommy chuckled as he caught up to you, standing in your path, mirroring your movements with each step you tried to make.

" Im so stupid, I can't believe I fell for it. Fell for your lies" you said coming to a stop, brushing the tears from your cheeks.

" Lies? I never lied that night Y/N, when I told you that you kept me alive, kept me going in France I meant it.

" So much that you've been following me for the past decade. You're a freak Tommy!" You said as you pushed past him.

"Yeh alright, I admit it. Guilty" he replied putting his hands up in a mock gesture as he jogged up to where you was again " You did something to me in France, put a spell on me, bewitched me" he said with a smirk on his face as you scoffed at the ridiculous excuse for his madness.

" And my mother Tommy, what did she do to deserve your cruelness?"

" Your mother is fucking crazy, maybe it's genetic" he replied looking at you from head to toe, insinuating you was also" Your dear mother was being sedated because she was pissing everyone off, trying to escape the facility she was in, causing hell for all the doctors and nurses. But that's no longer a problem. She saw a new doctor you see, one found by me. She's been declared clinically insane, now she will spend the rest of her days locked up in the local madhouse." he viciously stated, knowing how much the news would anger you.

Grabbing the gun from his holster you pushed him away as you raised it to his face, your whole body shaking as tears blurred your vision. Chuckling, Tommy threw his cigarette on the ground, stubbing it out with his boot.

" You've got more attempted murders than me" Tommy laughed as he walked over to you, not caring you had a gun pointing straight at him. "Now give me the gun, we both know you're not gonna do anything"

" No!" You said pulling down the safety like Arthur had shown you, the expression on Tommy's face suddenly changing.

"What? You gonna shoot the father of that baby growing inside you" he said as he gestured to your stomach. " You're not so innocent Y/N are you, hm? Was quite the shock I had when one of my men told me you had visited that old hag in London. Was you going to get rid of my child eh, my fucking child?!"

" I...no Tommy" you cried, feeling the barrier of the gun protecting you suddenly evaporating as you unconsciously lowered the pistol in your hand, your secret now spoken, exposed.

" You thought about it though. See, I was waiting for confirmation from a doctor since you wouldn't tell me yourself, but you just did that for me didn't you? Now what you're gonna do right.." he said as he pointed his finger at you, his face reddened by anger. "Is give me that gun. Then we'll go home and talk about this like adults" he ordered as he stepped forward.

" No!" You screamed back as you raised the pistol in your hand once more. " You've ruined my Life, you've taken away everyone i love and care about. I won't let you ruin this child's life as well! You cried as you stood your ground your whole body trembling as a surge of adrenaline rushed through you.

" Give me the fucking gun Y/N! " Tommy shouted as he stormed over to you. " Now!"

It happened so quickly, you didn't think twice about doing it, you weren't even sure you thought at all when your finger pressed down on the trigger sitting beneath your skin. With your eyes firmly shut you listened to the last echos of the gunshot fade around you, the distant sound of autumn leaves blowing in the wind, and then silence total silence as if for a brief moment the world stood still and watched as everything played out. Lowering the gun, a wave of relief left your body as you stood there, the chilled breeze of winter approaching cooling the anger within you. Peace had finally descended on the grounds of Arrow house, or had it?

" You missed..." you heard through the crisp country air, your eyes darting open to see your husband standing in front of you, staring you down. Dropping the gun in your hand you collapsed onto the ground below you in tears as you watched him charge towards you, pulling you up from the grass. " Anyone could have made that shot" he said as he grabbed your head between his hands. " Yet you missed, you missed! See, you love me Y/N. I knew you fucking loved me!" he said reasoning with his own madness, pressing his lips to yours, his hands wrapped tightly around you, the only thing holding you up as the life drained from you.

" Fuck.." he said letting go, sighing as all the anger he was holding in left him. " We're made for eachother Y/N. You and me. It was always meant to be" he said cupping your cheeks once again, as you nodded, crying tears you no longer thought you had left, giving in, no more strength left to tell him otherwise. Pressing his forehead to yours Tommy brought his hand down to your stomach, rubbing his thumb over the small swell under your dress.

" When this one is born, I'll put another in you then another until that whole house is filled" He smiled unnervingly as his eyes darted back to Arrow House in the distant. " You and me yeh, our own little family"

" Tommy, I..I want to go home" you said as you looked up at him your eyes pleading one last time to be free of him.

" This is your home sweetheart. You belong with me you've always belonged to me" he said pressing your head in his hands his eyes inches from yours. " I will never let you leave, never. You're mine Y/N"

He will never let you go. He will hunt you down and live forever through you...the words you heard all those months ago would now cruelly haunt you until your last breath. It was over, your childhood love was gone, there was nothing left of you. You were shackled to him for the rest of your life, bearing his children so his legacy could live on. The game had come to an end, the ultimate prize won. He had played by his own rules for so long there was only ever going to be one outcome. An unchangeable fate had been sealed from the very moment you had met, it was always going to end this way. For you and everyone else knew, Tommy Shelby always wins, always.

The end.

Tag list: @litteltourtius (unable to tag) @aesthetic0cherryblossom @swordofawriter @casa-boiardi @muhahaha303 @fmo166 @call-sign-shark @priyajoyy @gypsy-girl-08 @missbeeentertainment @cryptidscool (unable to tag) @warrior-of-justice @runnning-outof-time @camilleholland89 @amberpanda99 @scarwxrld @pleasant-meadow @fleurfatale89 (unable to tag) @strnqer @hope4rain19

#Killing me Softly #Tommy shelby #Dark!Tommy Shelby #Brummie 🖤#Wonderful ending #I'm fucking shivering #Just wow that was such a brilliant series #What I am supposed to do with my life now?

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prince-of-elsinore · 4 years ago

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Sam and Dean: psychological analysis and headcanons

In response to this anon ask from the 66 SPN Questions:

6. Do you have any psychological headcanons (or canon interpretations) of the characters?

Anon, this is probably not what you asked for. But I started writing, and kept finding more I wanted to say, until I thought--why not just say it all? And by all, I don't actually mean all--this is by no means exhaustive. But it was a wonderful, self-indulgent opportunity to organize my thoughts on Sam and Dean's psychologies, and even find some new ideas as I was writing, and to put them out there so others can read and discuss. (Always happy to discuss any of this! Inbox is open.)

As a disclaimer, I know most of these thoughts are probably not original and may be retreads of many things fandom has been discussing for years. I'm not claiming to be breaking new ground here. Also, I sorta float backwards and forwards chronologically in my discussion--some parts pertain more to them when they're young, some to when they're older, and I don't always clarify which. Also, these are generalizations! I point out patterns I notice; that doesn't make them all hard and fast rules, because Sam and Dean are each human and complex!

Here's what you'll find below:

1. Core motivations 2. Happiness 3. Approval and secrets 4. Approval from authority figures 5. Need and attachment re: others 6. Sympathy and empathy 7. Walls—hiding vs. performing 8. Need and attachment re: each other 9. Ambitions and goals 10. Normality and monstrosity 11. Guilt and self-loathing 12. Autonomy and sacrifice 13. Personal identity 14. Concluding observation

1. Core motivations: Dean’s purpose is to protect Sam, obviously. Sam’s purpose, though a little less clear, is to save Dean. Sometimes it’s explicit, as in s3 and s9-10. But I think Sam also wants to save Dean, in general, from himself and from the life. It’s why he pushes against Dean’s obedience to their father. It’s why he tells him to get out and go to Lisa after he jumps in the Cage. At a certain point, I think Sam accepts he can’t “save” Dean without changing who he is, so he chooses to stick by him—because at least then he can make Dean happy.

2. Happiness: Dean’s happiness—or perhaps contentment is a better word—is knowing that Sam is safe and alive. Sam’s happiness is Dean being happy. In Sam’s world, things are good when Dean’s good. I think that, conversely, Dean wants Sam to be happy, and Sam wants Dean to be safe, but they both know and to an extent accept that those things are not within their control, so they focus on what they feel they can control.

3. Approval and secrets: They are each other’s north stars, guiding principles, in different ways. For Dean it’s “look out for Sammy,” for Sam it’s “what would my big brother think/do.” Dean doesn’t need Sam’s approval. Sure, he loves it when Sam admires him, but if he feels he needs to do something against Sam’s approval, he doubles down because approval from Sam is not the top priority. He’ll do what he thinks is right, especially to keep Sam safe, no matter what Sam thinks about it. Sam, on the other hand, does crave Dean’s approval and cares very much about his opinion. It doesn’t mean he won’t go against Dean (all the conflict of s1-5!), but it affects him differently. This leads to different kinds of secret-keeping: Sam goes behind Dean’s back to avoid his disapproval; Dean goes behind Sam’s back so that Sam doesn’t interfere with what he thinks needs to be done.

4. Approval from authority figures: Dean does crave approval from others—specifically, respected authority figures. The big one is obviously John. I think in a way it’s Mary, too, when she comes back. But it only applies as long as the person has his respect. Sam doesn’t crave approval from other authorities in the same way, perhaps because his primary authority figure growing up was Dean.

5. Need and attachment re: others: Sam is the only person Dean cannot live without, but he also makes outside connections of a friendly nature fairly easily. He’s the more socially outgoing brother who latches onto people like Gordon, gets friendly with Ash, and forges connections with Jo and Charlie, just to name a few (and Castiel at times—though their relationship is so inconsistent and often convenience-based I hesitate to include it in this category). Though Sam is Dean’s core need, I do think Dean thrives with other friendships. I’m not talking about found family, though I’m well aware of Dean’s tendency to call people “family” quite readily. Honestly, I think this is a manifestation of his craving for connection with others. Dean has an affectionate and playful nature, and let’s face it, Sam isn’t always super receptive to that—so naturally, Dean seeks out people who are. (I think this is also, in some cases, related to Dean’s craving for approval from others). Of course, none of those other relationships come close to the depth of his relationship with Sam, and when his relationship with Sam is at its best, I don’t think Dean really needs anything else to sustain him. But in reality, it can’t always be at its best.

Sam, on the other hand, doesn’t forge outside connections easily—but when he does, they tend to be deeper than Dean’s easy casual associations (even when Dean has real affection for someone, he tends to keep the tone of the relationship light). It’s pretty clear Sam was a loner kid, and I imagine it took him a while to find friends at Stanford, and even though he loved Jessica he still clearly kept many secrets. That’s the thing with Sam—he’s got walls. Dean’s got his own walls, but they’re different. Sam can seem emotionally open, but he protects his innermost self very carefully and rarely puts his emotions out there in a truly open way��even less than Dean does. I think this is a consistent personality trait for Sam, not one born of trauma (though perhaps exacerbated by it at times). In fact, it’s in later seasons that I see Sam finally, in rare moments, let down those walls, with Rowena and Jack. When he’s young, I think this was partially a coping mechanism he developed for hiding his desires/feelings, even from himself, because he was so unhappy with his life. It means that even though he’s an introspective guy, he’s not as self-aware as he thinks he is until he’s older and more mature. He’s very good at self-deception when he’s young, because as a thinker, he can convince himself of just about anything.

To circle back to attachment, what this means to me is that Sam, while he certainly appreciates close friendships and has a lot to offer those he cares about, doesn’t crave friends in the way that Dean does. I think he desires to be understood (this is a natural human need) but he’s much more comfortable with himself than Dean is, and is somewhat of a loner by nature. This means he’s also not (usually) going to be too affected by the status of his relationships with others. Dean is much more volatile and easily hurt by others (this is where Castiel is a great example).

6. Sympathy and empathy: On the surface, Sam appears to be the caring, sensitive brother, while Dean is brash and insensitive. This is a very incomplete picture, however. It mostly comes down to the difference between sympathy and empathy. Empathy is an involuntary response, whereas sympathy is something that a person chooses to express, though that doesn’t make it necessarily superficial—it also comes from an emotional place. Dean tends to be more empathetic, and Sam more sympathetic. Dean, despite his performative walls, is more easily affected on a visceral level by others’ emotions. He is more sensitive, more easily hurt or swayed to anger, and also more easily experiences empathy. This has nothing to do with what Dean thinks is right—it’s another involuntary emotion. He is sometimes moved to express this feeling, but he’s not generally concerned about appearing sympathetic. Sam, with his careful emotional walls, isn’t generally so viscerally affected by others, but he is kind. This is expressed as sympathy, because he cares about others’ feelings, and he wants to be good/morally right. On the one hand, it comes from an intellectual place—“it’s socially acceptable/morally right to express care for this person” (which Dean is less likely to care about)—and on the other, it is an emotional response—“I know what that feels like”—but a more regulated one than empathy, where one almost directly experiences another’s emotions.

7. Walls—hiding vs. performing: It’s interesting that both brothers have their own walls, which they construct as a form of self-preservation, but they have different levels of effectiveness in protecting themselves from outside influence. One difference might lie in what the walls were built in reaction to. Sam built his walls at a young age to separate himself from the outside world because, ironically, it was precisely what he desired, but was not allowed to have. He therefore consciously distanced himself from it, to dull the pain of not having it. The goal of those walls was to have something to hide behind, where he could remain generally unnoticed, so he could conceal his pain from outsiders and even from his family.

Dean took a little longer to build his walls—or at least to consciously do so. He already no doubt fashioned himself after his dad as a kid, and often put on a brave face—for Sam, for his father—when he was not feeling brave. He therefore became accustomed to performing at a young age, and performed many roles for both Sam’s and John’s benefit. He was unconsciously building walls with these performances, concealing his true feelings and desires. Later, I think this started to become more intentional, especially in relations with women/sex partners and especially after the Stanford split, as Dean realized how vulnerable to hurt his sensitive nature made him. It was much safer to perform all the time, and never let his real feelings show. For Dean, even more than Sam, I think he often lost sight of what those real feelings were behind the walls as he tried his best to be the performance he was putting on.

For a visual metaphor, I think of it this way: Sam is a boy at the center of a self-constructed labyrinth. He is almost always able to maintain control over how close people get (except when a few slip past his defenses, at which point he may be susceptible to manipulation). Despite all those elaborate passageways, though, there’s still Sam at the center. It’s lonely there, but he knows himself pretty well at least. Dean is a man in a mask who wants the mask to be his real face. He does everything he can to fuse himself and the mask together. They probably are fused at this point, so it would hurt to take the mask off. His memory of the face under the mask is hazy. He’s afraid, if he looks under the mask, he’ll hate what he sees. He’s lonely because no matter how close others get—and he lets them in close, can surround himself with people—none of them will ever see his true face. But he’s convinced himself it’s better this way, because if anyone saw his face, they’d hate it.

8. Need and attachment re: each other: Clearly, both brothers need each other. Sam’s need for Dean is different than Dean’s need for Sam, though. The way I see it, Dean’s need is one that requires reassurance. Perhaps it traces back to the concern about Sam instilled into him at a young age. I think it was strongly exacerbated by the Stanford split, when Dean realized his and Sam’s desires didn’t align. In Dean’s mind, Sam left once and can do it again—he’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Sam, on the other hand, has always been able to rely on Dean as a rock, a constant in his life—to the point that, in a way, he takes it for granted when he’s younger. Not in a spoilt, ungrateful way, but in that way that we, as children, might take our parents for granted—they’re always going to be there, right? That’s why, on the few occasions where suddenly, Sam isn’t sure of Dean’s devotion, the rug is ripped out from under him and he’s completely adrift and distraught—seasons 4 and 8 come to mind. Sam needs to be the center of Dean’s universe. When he fears that that’s shifted, that Dean hates him or has chosen someone else over him, it turns Sam’s whole world upside down. For Dean, the fear is that Sam will leave, but it’s a constant, background worry. For Sam, the fear is that Dean will hate him, but since he can usually count on Dean to be obsessed with him, it only comes up now and again. Only Dean can truly hurt Sam, while Dean is vulnerable to hurt from others—though, as always, the deepest hurt can only come from Sam.

9. Ambitions and goals: Sam is the one with greater needs and ambitions outside the scope of their relationship. For Dean, if he’s got Sam and he’s got hunting, he’s content. His greatest accomplishments are taking care of Sam and saving people, and that’s all he needs. I see Sam as craving other sources of fulfillment, though—academic/lore study for its own sake (the pursuit of knowledge), and a leadership/mentorship role. I thought it was very fitting that Sam finds these in late seasons, with leading hunters against the BMOL, then leading the apocalypse AU hunters, then mentoring/nurturing Jack. Dean has always had (and needed) a mentor/leadership/nurturing role with Sam, but Sam also thrives when he’s able to step into that role for others.

10. Normality and monstrosity: I’m just going to link to this post rather than repeat myself.

11. Guilt and self-loathing: This is something they both struggle with and at times, are defined by, but it manifests differently. I think their Hell traumas exemplify their different brands of guilt: for Dean, it’s perpetrator’s guilt. He knows he did something terrible and feels he can never atone for his past actions. For Sam, it’s victim’s/survivor’s guilt. He may not have done anything wrong, but there’s a certain amount of self-blame, especially for perceived weakness. This is another theme for Sam; one of the main faults he sees in himself is weakness—too weak to save Dean from Hell for instance—and as a result tries to shoulder things alone (killing Lilith, Hallucifer, etc). Sam has a need to fix things, to prove to others and himself that he is capable. Dean, I think, sees his main fault as neediness, but really, it’s a deeply buried sense of innate worthlessness. He was taught from a young age that his brother’s life—not his own—was of the utmost value. He internalized that his life was only worthwhile if he could save others, and has trouble with the idea that he, himself, has value beyond what he can do for others.

12. Autonomy and sacrifice: The above leads Dean to have a very constrained sense of his own autonomy. In general, he values duty/loyalty to others over autonomy (although when it comes to cosmic beings, he’s all about free will—see this post if you want more thoughts on that, and Sam’s autonomy). Often, his desire to control others comes from a place of frustration when Dean feels they are neglecting duty/being selfish. I think partially duty towards others is really a deeply ingrained value for him, but there may also be some buried jealousy at play, in that Dean wishes he could act with more freedom, put himself first every once in a while, but doesn’t know how to. Sam tends to value autonomy over duty (this doesn’t mean he doesn’t believe in any sort of responsibility—he’s willing to sacrifice for the greater good, after all). This means he also tends to respect others’ autonomy, though we all know he can get plenty unhinged where his brother’s safety is concerned. The theme of Sam and autonomy has been talked to death so I’ll stop there, but you can click the link above if you want more.

13. Personal identity: One of Dean’s biggest struggles is with how much of his personal identity is received rather than self-determined. He is tasked with taking care of Sam and he is trained to be a hunter; these become the foundations of his identity. He says it himself: taking care of Sam is not just what he does but who he is. Then in season 3, his own subconscious mocks him for his lack of originality, styling himself and all he loves after his father, showing that this is a source of deep insecurity. This discomfort with himself contributes to his fear of being abandoned and left alone with himself. He doesn’t know who he is without Sam—or rather, is convinced he is nothing without Sam, which is why he fights so hard to keep him by his side. It also contributes to his general desire for friends, or better, family: people who won’t abandon him.

Later in the series, I think Dean has come to embrace his genuine self more. He’s nerdy and excitable and playful—and I don’t see this is as regression, but rather a healthy embracing of what makes him happy—not tastes inherited from his father. If it seems juvenile, it’s because it’s the first time in his life he’s allowed himself to express and explore these things. I think his relationship with hunting is also healthier; it’s no longer something he does because it’s the only thing that can give him worth. He does it because he believes it’s right and genuinely wants to help people. He has a more complete sense of self, and while it’s still totally tied up in Sam, he has gained some self-worth.

[I should note that basically everything I’ve written about Dean supports the headcanon that Dean has BPD—a headcanon I accepted after I realized this. For some more great writing on Dean and BPD, see this post by @venhedish.]

Sam has always known what he wanted for himself and rejected what was given to/allowed him. Wanting what he couldn’t have, from a young age, helped him develop an individual sense of self, not defined by others. I think it’s this difference in their sense of individual identity that leads some viewers to think that Dean loves Sam more than Sam loves Dean. He doesn’t, and losing Dean is just as huge a loss and a grief for Sam as losing Sam was for Dean. Dean is central to Sam’s life, and he can’t feel complete without him; however, his identity and every desire has never revolved as entirely around Dean as Dean’s has around him, so Sam has a foundational sense of self that even losing Dean can’t completely destroy. It’s what allows him to rebuild in grief and carry on (whereas I have no doubt Jensen’s right and Dean would waste away in the back of a pool hall without Sam). Dean’s central role in Sam’s life never disappears, though, and it is, in fact, what allows Sam to carry on; an effort to honor his brother’s memory, living in a way that would make him proud. There’s continuity in that for Sam; the craving for his brother’s approval and happiness never disappears. Seeking those things is what makes Sam happy, both in their domestic years together before Dean’s death and in the years after. They are both, after all, co-dependent!

14: Concluding observation: Sam and Dean have many similar issues, desires, and insecurities: the desire for a normal life, the fear of their own monstrosity, the desire for love and friendship, their need and love for each other, their desire for approval/to be admired, resentment at their childhood, the feeling of being impure and unworthy, the desire for freedom, issues with bodily autonomy. Sometimes these are seen as the purview of one brother or the other exclusively, but that’s almost never true when you consider canon as a whole. The difference is in how these things are internalized, sublimated, reflected, and expressed for each of them. It makes sense they would struggle with so many of the same things, because their lives are deeply intertwined and they are in the same boat most of the time.

#spn meta #sam meta #dean meta #sam and dean #winchester brothers #my meta #the brodependency #long post #spn

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trashcatsnark · 3 years ago

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Collapse DLC Spoilers part 2 electric boogaloo

I haven't done all the things in one run, but i have like beaten the dlc now, Wemod works for cheats, for anyone who needs them. More thots under cut

while i give some leniency to the fact that the dlc is in Joe Bro's mind, so, like his diseased little lump of gray matter is probably fucking things up. I agree that like some stuff just feels ooc for the seeds imo, and I also understand that for most of us our broad understanding of the seeds is more fanon than canon, due to the long distance between fc5, the dlc, (not gonna mention new dawn), and like the fact that in the og game you get like... 3 cutscenes per non-joe, technically 2, since Joe always stole one from each. (takes over the baptism, lectures in the bliss, and tells baby murder story while in cage) So, like, realistically... I get that the versions of John, Jacob, and Faith i have in my head are probably more from my head than from canon at this point.

Like John's little, "urges" speech is definitely feels like an oversimplification of what is a lot going on in that head of his. But I do like the idea that Joe was like ayyyyyyy jebus made you homicidal for a reason , John.

Here for Rachel slapping Joseph's glasses off. And I do find it... inchresting that Johnny Boy can put a knife to Joseph's throat and he's chill with it, but one slap from Rachel and he's ready to throw hands with the 5'2 tinkerbell lady.

I again, fucking hate this weird pseudo-incesty, was Faith/Rachel and him like... romantic energy thing they do. Like, his wife's name was Faith... really????? Really?????? We're doing that????? Really????

I did appreciate that the deputy did get something in the bunker, "the last member of his family" wanted more though. Like again, I know the siblings are the focus, but the deputy is such a weird non-entity in this dlc given their role as ya know, the protagonist in the og game.

And like... the real ooc moment for me and like I get that this is Joseph's voice showing him visions of what could have happened/supposedly would if the siblings had survived. So, it could be Joseph's fears and stuff, but... that's gonna bullshit and I'll explain in a bit. But, the most ooc moment for me personally, was the idea that Jacob would kill Joseph. I can 100000 percent see him becoming suicidal, but... he's dedicated his whole ass life to protecting his family and you're telling me a couple years into bunker life he's just gonna flip the script and kill his brother???? Jacob is the one who'd thrive the most in bunker life, lets be honest.

Now, as for why I think the "its joseph's brain, so of course that wouldn't really happen, its just his fears" is a idea I'm not giving much credence too is... Ethan's in his mind. And the reason, I say that kind of undercuts that theory is because this is meant to take place while Joe is still in the bunker with the dep, this basically confirms Joseph/voice can actually see the future. Because... how else would his brain be able to show him his whole ass shitty sequel son.

idk, like, again, I liked seeing The Seeds again, kind of got some worms wriggling for fc5 again. But... it most made me just wanna go back to the og fc5 game where the weird pseudo incest tones is limited to like one line.

#fc5 #far cry 5 #collapse dlc #collapse spoilers #joseph: collapse #joseph seed #faith seed

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sherlockholmesandhisinability · 4 years ago

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Sherlock Holmes and His Inability to Survive Lockdown

"Sherlock," I groaned, "You can't keep doing this. Rosie's not gonna tolerate it forever, you know."

"That, John, is inconsequential to me in this moment. Simply paltry. Entirely-"

I jerked, sitting up from the hardwood floor of 221B Baker Street he'd had myself and my daughter playing dead on for what must've been 20 minutes- but felt like hours.

"Alright, Sherlock, you've made your point."

"Daddy," hummed Rosie, "Lie down. We're dead, remember?"

In that moment I earnestly wished I was. I laid down again; equally compliant and disgruntled. Sherlock hadn't been coping well since England had announced the government sanctioned lockdown. Or rather, the Mycroft sanctioned lockdown. He contacted me briefly before giving the executive order, in the name of warning me of just how poorly his brother fares in confinement.

I should have listened. Got him some video games or something. Instead I focused on the practical things, like stocking the flat with toilet paper and canned goods. Like an idiot.

Regardless of the fortitude of this flat, it had become a cage. All of Sherlock's cases left incomplete. What becomes of a field agent when the field is closed? The answer: he becomes a complete madman. He'd (of course) remembered every infinitesimal detail of each case, and translated it into our flat. Down to the minutiae. Today, the strange case of the murdered man, and the murdered murderer.

Rosie lay "dead" face down, with a questionable ketchup stab wound on her little back. I lay next to her, wielding the murder weapon (a bread-stick blade) but equivalently deceased. Nobody at Scotland Yard could decipher how the murderer came to be murdered. Hence, Sherlock was on the case. Or at least, until the crime scene was cordoned off- with the rest of the bloody country.

As I clutched the bread in between my weary fingers, I noticed that I felt less vibration in the floor. After pacing around the two Watsons, while imagining we were corpses (lovely, of course), he'd finally stopped.

"Figured it out, have you?" I pleaded, my back screaming to be stretched.

"Mm. Yes. It appears I have."

"Go on then. What happened?"

"What happened you ask?"

Oh dear. What the hell did I ask that for, I thought to myself.

Sherlock continued, "It has occurred to me that in lieu of making any real progress on this case, I have been thinking of nothing other than your untimely demise."

"Sherlock?" I stood up sharply. Too sharply. My God, I'm getting too old for this. "What's up with you? Why would you say something like-"

"Because, John. Because I can't protect you from this. This disease. For the first time, I am rendered utterly and miserably powerless to protect you. Both of you." He scooped up the toddler-shaped body from the floor and set her down gently on his armchair. I'm going to have to clean the ketchup off that later. I wonder if Mrs Hudson has any baking soda around.

I wanted to ask why he'd let us remain on the floor all this time while he fretting internally. Instead, I looked up into his eyes. Striking blue. Terrible pain. Genuine fear.

"John, I've seen many bodies. Though they escape my thoughts, the abstractation of death itself lingers in my veins like a bad high. It's completely exhilarating to live, and exhausting to not die. I don't fear death. I fear losing you."

I kept silent. I had to think. This notion had come from nowhere. Or had it? Had I been ignorant to his pain, and allowed it to manifest only now when he has nothing to distract himself from it? Mycroft was right.

"Sherlock you can't protect me from this disease, nor can you protect Rosie, Molly, Mrs Hudson or even Greg." He puzzled. "Lestrade." I corrected myself. "You can't stop the virus."

"Thank you John, I feel so much better" He huffed sarcastically, before trotting into the laboratory-kitchen in the fashion of a petty yet troubled teen.

"I'm not done. What I mean to say is, while you can't protect us right now, I hope you know that we appreciate you for your efforts."

"What efforts?"

"This." I gestured to the tape on the floor, in the shape of two dead people I'd never heard of until today. I extended this gesture to the files pinned to the fleur-de-lis wallpaper. The red string woven through the lives of the afflicted and the deaths of the dismissed. "All these cases you're trying to solve in lockdown."

"Well, John-"

"Still not done, Sherlock." I'd caught on. "I know what you're doing. None of these cases are real are they? You're trying to keep us busy so we don't worry like you. Imposing your chaotic coping methods on us."

Admittedly, I was touched. Despite the fact that regrettably, my sporadic intellect had startled him. He's definitely suffering if he'd formulated a plan even I could crack.

He switched off the three roaring bunsen burners he'd had going on the dining table and rejoined me in the living room. "Was it that obvious?"

"As obvious as the fake blood on Rosie's cardigan" I chuckled.

"Oh, erm. Actually,"

"Sherlock?"

"Well you see,"

"Sherlock don't tell me that's real blood you've splattered on my child."

"It's for the case!"

"SHERLOCK?!"

#sherlock holmes #john watson #sherlock #johnlock #benedict cumberbatch #221b baker street #221b johnlock #Lockdown #Coronavirus #covid 19 #sherlock fanfic #fan fic #fanfic #ficlet #martin freeman #molly hooper #greg lestrade #mycroft #sherlock and mycroft

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kingfishered · 1 year ago

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The last thing Soap was expecting in reaction to having suddenly dived for her, good intentions or not, was for her to smile. Yet here she was, not having leapt away from his as soon as she fell against his fur, not having screamed or cursed or ordered him back into the cage. She just smiled and thanked him.

With the small spark of confidence this gave him, the inkling that perhaps some gentleness here could go miles in quelling her fear of him and perhaps even beginning to form some kind of bond, if he was lucky, he supported her as she moved to stand up straight again, as carefully as he could. When she found her feet again he took a few steps back, watched as she curtsied and thanked him again.

There was still fear there, he knew, he saw it in the way she still couldn’t meet his gaze, the scent he could still pick up in the air, especially in this form. But it had dulled, the scent, far weaker than when she’d first unlocked the cage. He would be grateful for that, if nothing more.

She introduced herself as Elsinael, and Soap knew that both to reply and to ease that still lingering fear he should shift back to human. So he did, another blink and you’ll miss it moment, straightening back up onto two legs. He took the opportunity to stretch, finally out of that cage, feeling tight muscles pull as he did. It would take a while to work out this tension.

“John MacTavish,” he introduced himself in return, appreciating being able to do this himself, even if she probably already knew, “Most people call me Soap.”

A name he’d earned for his skill when it came to clearing out a place of hostiles, an easy task when he was in wolf form. A name he knew most people preferred to call him because it felt far less human than his real name.

✧ @kingfishered

𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈.

there are first steps and a first word; first smile, first kiss. first night with one's lover, first time seeing footage of the warbeast running wild and bloody in the field of operation.

and yet it is not fear john meets. it's adoration, awe, daze — familiarity is washed over elsinael and for the first time in months she feels understood. monstrous beast reminds her of 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬. her and 𝗝𝗢𝗛𝗡 — they're THE SAME in her mind's eye.

light eyelashes fan over flushed cheeks as elsinael blinks away the surprise. the tears dry fast as her lips curl into smile warm like thousands suns.

birds make nests with materials of broad range. there are sticks, but also spider silk, mud and lichen. elsinael wants to ask for the wolf's fur to be her new home.

it's soft under her touch, not coarse, but it's just her mind playing tricks on her, which she does mind not. a beast of bloody fangs and claws and strenght and muscle is suddenly a warm, welcoming and gentle touch. thin skin and hollow bones break easily, of what john will see for himself in no time — yet, not today.

elsie feels like her heart wants to burst inside her ribcage.

❝ thank you, ❞ she whispers, carefully leaving the coziness of sharp teeth and powerful paws. she is not hurt. the cage is open. there is no muzzle, no shock collar, no chains nor restraints.

and she is n o t h u r t.

❝ thank you, kind sir, ❞ she repeats and helds her dress out to the sides, curtsying. she is not yet brave enough to look soap in the eye.

❝ i— i believe we were not introduced to each other, formally or not. my name is 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐞𝐥. elsinael 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐡. ❞

#[ KF ] threads #peacedomain #[ SOAP ] general #[ SOAP ] au // werewolf #[ SOAP ] in character #[ KF ] queue

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vanillawriterv · 4 years ago

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Markus Deserved Better from DBH

This ended up hella long but Markus deserved better from David Cage and I’m upset about it, ok?

Anybody who’s been involved or seen the Detroit: Become Human fandom knows that Connor is the most favorited by the voiced community, and he absolutely deserves the love he gets. He’s an intriguing character with a cute face, and the fandom has widely noted that. Kara is a widely loved character as well, just as she should be. We see so many raw emotions from Kara that make us relate and empathize with her, and she’s a strong willed person. Markus, however, isn't as widely appreciated. Don’t get me wrong, I know there are tons and tons of posts and art and writing and appreciation for him, but that pales in comparison to that of Connor or Kara. I’ve seen people blame this on “deep rooted racism” and all that lovely stuff, but there are a variety of reasons Markus doesn’t resonate with most as much as Kara or Connor, and why he deserved better from the creators. It makes the whole thing even weirder because Markus is the integral piece of the entire game.

Connor and Kara’s plot lines are obviously very important. Connor’s conflict in finding out who he is and what he wants to be is emotional, and him being a detective is crucial to his story. Connor’s end goal is to find Jericho, which is centered mainly around Markus’ story. Kara’s conflict in deciding to do what’s best for Alice, even if what she does isn’t “morally” correct, is also extremely emotional and really makes you evaluate what you would do for the ones you love, no matter how inherently “wrong” it is. Her being an Android and trying to take care of Alice and find Jericho to get to Canada are crucial to the story, and her end goal is centered mainly around Markus’ story as well.

Markus’ plot is the most important part of Detroit: Become Human. Without him, it would have taken another Android to finally decide to revolt, and given that he had to convince Jericho when he got there, it would have taken a decent amount of time. If Markus didn’t begin a revolution, Connor wouldn’t have ended up working towards finding Jericho because Androids would only have acted out individually with no name behind their cause, and widespread deviancy would be eradicated if someone else didn’t unite them all before they really started getting rid of deviants. Though Connor could have found deviancy without the revolution or Jericho, his character arc centers around witnessing his own people stand up for themselves and him deciding who he’s going to be. Connor without Markus would just be a detective doing cases on the very thing he’s never supposed to be and he’ll either remain a machine, or become a deviant and have to deal with that without a cause on his side.

Kara would probably still end up looking for Jericho with Alice because of the Android that shared information with her when they were looking for a place to stay the night, but she’d be greeted with pre-Markus Jericho that doesn’t do much but hide. She probably wouldn’t have made it to Canada or even the border if this happened.

This all means that all their stories—and plenty of other side characters’ stories—revolve around Markus, who he is, and what his existence means in the game. Now, this isn’t actually very obvious in the game. It doesn’t take deep thinking or any real situation assessment to realise exactly how crucial Markus is to the game and every character’s development, but it isn’t as clear as it should be. Markus should be the point the game revolves around because he’s why it exists—so why don’t we feel nearly as emotionally attached to him?

Well, we don’t get to see who Markus is. We see Markus speaking for a community as a whole, not really for himself. He puts himself in a position where most of what he says is said for Androids everywhere, and not necessarily his personal thoughts or aspirations. Yes, he wants to lead this revolution, but that’s his only characteristic he was given. Markus’ only purpose all the way throughout the entire game is the revolution. Of course, if you go the right route and choose the right things, you get one(1) possible love interest, but even that route is empty and bland of actual bonding or real insight to how Markus might be thinking or feeling. The only time we get to see Markus—and the thing that resonates within the people whose favorite character is Markus—is how he got to where he was. Connor is hesitant in his path of figuring out who he is against who he’s “supposed” to be. Kara is determined to take care of a child who hasn’t had the proper care. But Markus? Markus was the character who realised that nobody was going to stand up for him and that if he wanted protection, and rights, and thoughts, and to be independent he was going to have to do it himself. He stood up for himself when nobody could or would, and the people who realised that are the people who see exactly how valuable he is to the story and how much character he has inside of him that isn’t being shown to us throughout the rest of the game.

Connor and Kara have plenty of moments bonding with other people and expressing their thoughts or concerns. Connor has Hank, and they routinely interact in a way meant to make you connected to them both by sharing thoughts, ideas, and moments. Kara has Alice from the beginning, and it quickly develops our emotional connection to them both because they both need the other, and that is a strong, relatable emotional bond. Eventually Kara gets Luther who allows for more of Kara’s thoughts to be shown rather than just her emotions, as well as Luther’s, which give us an emotional connection to both of them. But Markus doesn’t really have those moments. Yes, he has Josh, North, and Simon, but the only talks they really had were about the revolution and Jericho’s decisions as a whole. There were so little scenes showing Markus connecting with others in a more intimate way than just recruiting them or speaking to Jericho as a whole, and they were pretty late into the game when we’d all already fallen in love with these other Characters.

It’s poor writing to only begin connecting the player to the main piece of why the story’s happening near the end of the entire game. There was time for more, in general, from Markus.

Plus—and this one really irks me as a music fan in general—his theme was a crime. I watched a playthrough before I ever played the game, and one of the first things I noted was the intensity of Connor’s theme. You all know it, and it is so packed with emotion that you can feel without having to know anything about the game. Nima Fakhrara, the composer of Connor’s theme, put so much of Connor’s conflict and internal struggles into that piece, and perfectly captivated the duality of human and machine within him. Listen to it if you haven’t taken the time, it’s 8 minutes and 54 seconds of an absolutely beautiful composition. Kara’s theme moves me every time as well. Philip Sheppard, the composer of Kara’s theme, also put so much emotion into hers. The push and pull of the intensity captivates Kara’s situation so well. Her theme feels much more raw than Connor’s, by the nature of her character. Also listen to that if you haven’t, 6 minutes and 55 seconds of another absolutely beautiful composition. Markus’ theme, in comparison to Kara and Connor’s, feels so empty. It’s fitting only because of the lack of emotional value they put into Markus, and feels almost like ambiance music. You can’t feel the emotions Markus has within the piece, because we see so little of who he is. Not only that, his theme is a staggering 3 minutes and 2 seconds long. And, I believe John Paesano, the composer of Markus’ theme, is not the reason behind this lack of emotion. John Paesano also composed Marvel’s Spider Man main theme, and noted that he wanted to make the theme “more emotional and introspective.” The Spider Man main theme is also as short as Markus’ but most would argue still has a lot more emotion. There is no guarantee it wasn’t just a different artist’s take, but I believe John Paesano could have easily made a much more emotional theme for a character who actually had more emotions and personality to base the theme off of.

Markus’ lack of emotional development, his disconnect from the player because he only speaks as a whole and the game never shows him speaking for himself or his mind, and the lack of emotion in his theme compared to such emotionally driven themes makes Markus feel unimportant and much more distant from the player.

There were so many things David Cage could have done to make Markus feel as important as he is, but he lacked so much of what the other characters were given. I understand that what he was doing as a character didn’t provide as many opportunities as Kara or Connor to really show who he is to the player, but there was room for a more emotional Markus. He’s my favorite character in the game solely because he got up and did what no one else could or would do for himself, and if I—and many others—can fall in love with a character based on their only real emotional action, can you imagine the amount of people who’d fall in love with the rest of his missing personality?

#detroit become human #dbh #dbh markus #markus rk200 #rk200 #dbh connor #connor rk800 #rk800 #dbh kara #kara ax400 #ax400 #he deserved better #this is literally an essay omg #this has irked me for a while #sorry for the long rant #dbh north #dbh simon #dbh josh

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liunaticfringe · 4 years ago

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By Scott Moore April 25, 1999

At first blush, Lucy Liu seems to have little in common with the character she plays on "Ally McBeal."

Unlike the assertive Ling -- soft L, soft G -- she doesn't growl. Neither is she sarcastic, rude or abrupt.

Rather, it's with enthusiasm, courtesy and a bit of a giggle -- traits Ling Woo would never permit -- that Liu explains the hardships of portraying this very litigious woman each week on Fox's "Ally McBeal" (Monday at 9 on Fox).

"I can barely keep a straight face most of the time in the scenes," she said.

The insulting Ling Woo has little time for emotion -- or so viewers first thought. After the death of a young boy, the character kept up the persona by declaring: "We knew he was dying, Ally. This isn't the world's biggest shock. The boy had leukemia. Get over it."

The true shock came moments later, when Ling was seen crying outside the hospital parking lot -- and later still when she apparently arranged for a blimp to convey a comforting sign to Ally.

The turn of events "are just as surprising to me as to the audience," Liu said.

The actress has had quite a ride since being introduced in the second week of the season as the ill-tempered friend of icy attorney Nelle Porter, played by Portia de Rossi. A potential cash cow for the law firm and a romantic target for perpetually excited senior partner Richard Fish, Ling instantly drew the scorn of the rest of the firm and the attention of a large fan base, helping move the series into the Top 20 in the weekly ratings.

The turn of events, like each week's story line, has been a pleasant surprise to Liu, who was rejected last year while auditioning for the role of Nelle.

"They said they'd think about me in the future," Liu said. "But I was the only person of color there at all," of the half-dozen actresses applying for the part.

However, a few days later, she was cast for a role that writer-producer David E. Kelley created for her. Further, color doesn't seem to have any detriment on Kelley's offbeat comedy, where interracial relationships are commonplace.

If anything, Liu's Chinese heritage works to her advantage. Kelley has used her ability to speak Mandarin in a couple of story lines -- Ling inadvertently instructed waiters to cook John Cage's pet frog Stephan ("Tastes like chicken") and addressed a jury with nonsensical phrases that Liu's mother helped her construct. ("It doesn't matter what I say here," said the subtitles, "because none of you speak Chinese. But you can see from my sad face . . . I'm sympathetic.").

As a result, Ling Woo has evolved from an Asian stereotype -- that of Dragon Lady or sexual object -- to a multi-dimensional character. In addition to the show of emotion, Ling recently was revealed to have a law degree and joined the firm.

Still, Liu's character certainly has draconian elements. Her appearance on screen is often accompanied by glares or "The Wizard of Oz's" Wicked Witch of the West theme. And Ling's creative foreplay-but-no-play romance with Fish has gained Liu a growing fan base and several job offers.

"I knew she was well-rounded from the beginning," Liu said. "There's friction, and she's blunt and honest, but I always knew she was a sympathetic character."

Sympathetic? Ling yelled at a man in a wheelchair to watch where he was going. ("It's bad enough you people get all the parking places.") She declares that "men are horny toads." She has sued a radio shock jock for contributing to sexual harassment and a nurse of a plastic surgeon for having natural breasts.

Ling would interrupt here to ask, "Do you have a point?" Liu only laughs.

"I have to study her a great deal so she can shoot them out," Liu said of her character's audacity. "She doesn't hesitate when she talks or after she talks. If I know the lines, I can be more secure when I try to express her.

"She's a very clear-minded, blunt person. She's not disciplined, so I need to discipline myself, so she doesn't get lost or muddled."

Liu, born in New York City's Queens in the 1960s (she doesn't reveal her age), began acting while majoring in Asian languages and cultures at the University of Michigan. She played the lead in "Alice in Wonderland."

She had recurring roles on "ER," "High Incident" and "Coach," and guest spots on "NYPD Blue," "L.A. Law," "Michael Hayes" and "The X-Files." She also had a regular role as a brainy student in the short-lived Rhea Perlman comedy "Pearl."

And after playing a former girlfriend in "Jerry Maguire" and a hooker in "Bang," she made a mark this year with her portrayal of a brutal dominatrix in the Mel Gibson action-thriller "Payback." Liu also appears in "True Crime" with Clint Eastwood, "Molly" with Elizabeth Shue, and the "Austin Powers" sequel, "The Spy Who Shagged Me." And she was just cast in Ron Shelton's "Play It to the Bone."

"I've come to terms with things the last few years, so I can appreciate things as they're happening," she said.

Her favorite part of playing Ling, she said, are the romantic scenes with Fish (played by Greg Germann, a fellow accordion player).

"They're a real challenge for me, because my roles before didn't involve sexuality," said Liu. "I think, Oh, I can't do that. But, hey, I'm a woman, why not find some sensuality in that? When you discover yourself and allow yourself to be sexual, it's a really liberating feeling."

In fact, Liu says Fish is the character to whom she is most drawn: "I'm attracted to humor. Laughter is the most important thing in the world -- it takes 10 years off your age."

So, Liu is able to laugh off criticism from those who try to attach stereotypical labels to her character. "Chill out, take a pill or don't watch the show," she said.

The line could have been Ling's, except it was accompanied by a giggle.

CAPTION: Lucy Liu: "I can barely keep a straight face most of the time in the scenes."

CAPTION: LUCY LIU

#Lucy Liu #Ling Woo #1999 #WaPo #ally mcbeal #dragon lady

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theliterateape · 3 years ago

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The Artistic Subtlety of “Pig” and Nicolas Cage

By Brett Dworski

I knew what I was getting into after seeing the trailer for Pig. The plot seemed pretty straightforward: A guy living alone in the wilderness loses his beloved truffle pig and will slaughter everyone and everything that stands in his way in getting her back. That guy was Nicholas Cage, and this was going to be a classic bloodbath peppered with Cage’s standard erraticism and hysteria. I knew it. I felt it. This was going to be National Treasure all over again (ew), but with a John Wick type of feel.

I texted my friend, Adam, who appreciates the Cagester more than me. “We’ve got to see this,” I said, basically wanting to see it to mock Cage. We did. And when it ended, I was stunned. It was nothing like I expected. No hazardous car chases. No deathly shootouts. No exaggerations. Just a lonely man looking for his pig. It was, simply put, sensational.

Pig, the directorial debut from newcomer Michael Sarnoski, is elegant, riveting and poignant. While thrilling like many Cage movies, this indie flick veers from the actor’s usual blockbusters and finds the fifty-seven-year-old star in an unfamiliar state: subtlety. Despite my adoration of early-Cage hits Moonstruck and Raising Arizona, I’ve never loved the guy; his branded excessiveness just isn’t for me. But Cage’s performance as former chef Rob Feld in Pig blew me away. He ditched his obnoxious schtick for an elusive and quiet, yet extremely physical performance. Cage was spectacular, and I don’t think it’s a stretch to say it’s the best performance I’ve ever seen from him.

Sarnoski depicts Feld as a man of calm intensity. He doesn’t speak often, but when he does, people listen. Feld is a purist; he knows what he likes, and especially knows what he doesn’t. He lives in isolation, as we discover early on that he’s been alone in the woods of Portland for fifteen years. We also learn that he’s a widower, and while we never discover how his wife passed, it doesn’t matter.

What does matter is Feld’s pig, with whom he has a beautiful connection. We see this from the get-go, specifically in a heartwarming moment when the pig comforts a sad Feld while he reminisces about his wife. Although Feld says it near the film’s end, we know right away: He doesn’t need the pig to find the truffles—he’s already got that covered. He keeps the pig around because he loves her. It’s a touching bond that churns our intestines once broken.

In addition to Feld’s relationship with the pig, we’re immediately drawn to his connection with Amir, the douchey twenty-something who buys Feld’s truffles and sells them to fancy restaurants. Alex Wolff is splendid as the dick you can’t seem to hate no matter how much he flaunts his European sports car and his expensive suits. As the film progresses, we see a warmer side to Amir, who becomes just as driven to find the pig as Feld is, resulting in the two becoming more than just truffle acquaintances. Their bickering and earned respect is kind of like a buddy-cop relationship, but not really.

Panning outside the plot, Pig captures the pretentious hunt for rave reviews and fame within fine dining. After Feld and Amir learn that one of Feld’s former prep cooks, Derek—who was fired after two months for overcooking pasta—may know the pig’s whereabouts, they visit his new upscale restaurant. Upon realizing who the battered and grizzly Feld is, Derek is anxious and uncomfortable when asked about the pig. After Derek plays dumb, Feld sits back and, instead of pressing about the pig, asks about the English pub Derek wanted to open years back. “People have expectations. Critics, investors, and so forth,” Derek says with red cheeks and buggy eyes. “Everyone loves it here—it’s cutting edge!” Derek lays justification after justification for sacrificing his dream for Michelin stars, yet when Feld asks him to recall his intended signature dish for the pub, Derek remorsefully and robotically recites the liver scotch eggs with a honey curry mustard.

“They’re not real—you get that, right? None of it is real,” Feld says. “The critics aren’t real. The customers aren’t real. Because this isn’t real. You aren’t real. Everyday you’ll wake up and there’ll be less of you. You live your life for them, and you don’t even see them. You don’t even see yourself.”

Derek, on the verge of a panic attack, folds. He tells Feld who has the pig. Amir’s jaw hilariously drops to the floor, mesmerized by Feld’s philosophical rant. It’s a powerful and funny ending to the best scene in the film.

Beyond its writing and acting achievements, Pig is a technical success as well. When the intruders burst into Feld’s wilderness home and steal the pig late at night, we’re stuck in the dark, only seeing Feld’s head smashed in as we follow him to the floor. We lay there with him and hear chaos in the background, including the thieves’ fuzzy chatter and the pig’s piercing squeal. Our eyes are only on Feld, yet we know exactly what’s happening around him. This strategy is also used in the film’s final minutes and climax, except this time the sound is removed and our eyes relay the story to our brains. It’s here that Cage’s textbook physically takes over: We know exactly what has happened despite not hearing a single peep. Although removing the audiences’ senses can be risky, Sarnoski’s meticulous approach pays dividends in these moments.

At the heart of Pig is the story of a man who, despite losing everything he loves, comes to terms with himself and the world. It’s a powerful debut from Sarnoski, who’s become a must-watch filmmaker moving forward. It’s another hit performance from Wolff, who’s continued a ridiculous run of starring in basically every indie thriller since Ari Aster’s 2018 hit, Hereditary. Finally, it’s a divergent and excellent showcase from Cage, who seems to be remodeling his game as his career moves into the twilight phase. It’s far from the Cage of National Treasure, and I’m all for it.

#Pig #Michael Sarnoski #Nic Cage #Nicolas Cage #Pig film review

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laufire · 4 years ago

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Supernatural s5

I finished it a little while ago, but I haven’t had the time to make an involved post about it -or watch that much of s6 yet; I’m trying to be Resposible and the time I have has been spent in advancing fics a little bit or answering short asks lol.

-I have really enjoyed this season for the most part, but there’s something I need to get of my chest LOL: all through it, the song “Too Many Dicks (On The Dance Floor)” played in my head xDD. Like, listen, I knew what I was signing up for with this show!! I didn’t expect NOT to find it offensive or regressive on multiple occasions!! But I guess s3-4 must have spoiled me lmao. I’m not saying those seasons are the height of feminism, but if you removed its most important female characters, ESPECIALLY Ruby, the plot of the season would fall apart. That’s not something you can say for s5 and preventing the Apocalypse, just sayin’.

It wouldn’t’ve been that hard to expand Meg’s, Anna’s or the Harvelle’s part (they had good material to go there -Meg as the faithful possibly opening her eyes, Anna as the betrayed and the juror jury and executioner, the Harvelles as normal hunters fighting something way too big for them-, but barely any time and like I said, no incidence in the actual plot of the season). Hell, I’m biased but bringing back Ruby would’ve at least taken care of the problem lol. Or if the show had indulged me and kept Bellamy Young as Lucifer, at least. But everyone with a real say in the plot is a dude, or at least wearing one as a vessel (angel’s conception of gender is clearly different from humans, but in terms of ~~representation the results are the same lbr).

-My constant frustrations with Supernatural’s bigotry-related stuff lol, like I said, I really enjoyed the season (that combination is one of the most frustrating things about the show lmao). Especially Castiel’s plot. The guy has reached Potential Hall of Faves status and that’s hum. A Problem xD

But seriously, he was breaking my heart in all the best ways. His search for God (the Absent Father that the show specifically compared to John añsldkfjasf. This show ISTG!!), his disappointment and sense of betrayal at being let down (he called God Himself “son of a bitch”!!!). I was especially fascinated by his Endverse version -that AU will have its own section lol-, although it resulted in making me reaaaally nervous whenever he was close to an addictive substance :). Like yes, those scenes were lowkey humourous and adorable (like when he drinks shots with the Harvelles and Ellen is fascinated and Jo delighted -... lowkey shipping this too btw. Lowkey shipping Castiel with lots of people-, or his combo with Sam when he got drunk), but also, you know, WORRYING xD

Some of my favourite scenes of his were, predictably, his interactions with Meg or Lucifer in 5x10. The Megstiel scene was SUPER HOT (both their voices are very unf-y lol), I can’t wait to edit it. And having Lucifer call Castiel “a peculiar thing” sure was something xD (although lbr, this Lucifer isn’t keeping with his rebel angel reputation, Castiel is carrying that all by himself smh).

Another scene I couldn’t get out of my head if I wanted to is when he uhhhh... completely LOSES IT and starts beating the crap out of Dean when he was ready to give it up to Michael. “I gave everything for you, and this is what you give me?!?” ooooooof. It was hard to watch, and fascinating and intense. I shamelessly loved it lmfao.

Though my favourite moment of his is one that can only be appreciated when you know certain things about s6. It’s the scene where, unlike everyone else, he shows appreciation for Sam’s plan of sacrificing himself to get rid of Lucifer. Because yes, at this point it’s the only thing that can save the world. But Castiel isn’t saying, “Sam’s life is a small price to pay in comparison”, because he will go into s6 and snatch Sam out of the cage immediately. s5 established Sam got out, so with that in mind, he didn’t bring it up because he didn’t want to create false hope in case he failed, but he backed the plan with the intention of saving Sam anyway. I love that. I love him.

-The entire season was Missing Ruby Hours for me lmfao. Like I said, some of the problems in the season wrt female characters would’ve been at the very least lessened if she’d gotten to be here wrecking havoc. But generally I just miss her and What Could Have Been with her here. I enjoyed some of the crumbs (Sam using the witchcraft skillz he learned from her! Sam immediately knowing Meg isn’t Ruby, unlike Dean! Her knife! The ARCHANGEL GABRIEL referencing her as “the demon Sam chose over his brother”!! The callbacks with Crowley or Brady!!), but I would’ve wanted her here, dammit xD.

-Aaaaand we’re finally getting to Sam, who is without a doubt the star of the season, if you ask me. His plan at the end, to let Lucifer possess him in the hopes he can fight back for just long enough to overpower him and throw them both into the cage, with no hopes for himself? This is the kind of Big Damn Hero stunt I’m a sucker for, I won’t lie. And I love that the show felt the need to confirm he was still alive at the end of the season hehe.

He really Went Through It this season and he held on lmfao. On top of everything (the apocalypse, the guilt of being its final trigger, the addiction recovery, etc.), he also had to deal with Dean’s usual bullshit, which is no small feat xDD. Like, sure, from an audience stand-point all those things are interesting (some fave/the fuck moments are when Dean is obviously peeved that Bobby still supports Sam because he wanted Bobby in HIS corner, or when he has the nerve to say he wants to say yes to Michael because he doesn’t trust SAM not to say yes to Lucifer lmfaoooo), BUT IT’S STILL A FEAT XD

One note: for all the talk about bi!Dean, bi!Sam is so SEEN this season xDD. AFAIC he totally hooked up with that bartender Paul (RIP Paul. At least in your last moments you enjoyed Sam, who’s clearly an energetic, attentive lover 😔). And Crowley refers to Brady as Sam’s demon ex-boyfriend and nobody bats and eye lmfao (that story is so angsty... the parallels to Ruby, how he ingratiated himself with Sam by pretending to have fallen off the wagon... ouch).

-I have mixed feelings on Crowley. On his own, I fell absolutely in love with the guy on his first appearance. A demon that DOUBTS Lucifer and doesn’t kiss his ass?? That wants to get rid of him and do his own thing?? And clearly enjoys ~earthly pleasures to the fullest (his complains about how the other demons ate his tailor had me rolling laksjdfa)? The way he turned the tables on Brady? OFC I love him. OTOH boy, does it annoy me knowing that fandom GLADLY embraced him when they condemned characters like Bela or Ruby for similar things. It’s not his fault so I still like him (he’s like Gabriel in that sense), but it’s annoying!

It also annoys me how Dean Must Be Right All The Time syndrome interacts with him lol. This season Dean decides they can trust Crowley (despite Crowley killing two humans in front of him and getting him beat up by Brady lol), so they can. Next season he decides they can’t, so Castiel will be WrongTM because Dean Says So. Ugggggh xD

-To be fair, however, this season has my fave Dean so far LOL. In the love/hate scale, this one has been almost solely in camp love, barring some of those moments of irksome hypocrisy that he’s so prone to xD.

But there was something about how this season’s plot chipped away at him, you know? For all the traits he has that drive me up the wall or unsettle me, I appreciate a lot of his personality because it makes him a unique and interesting character driving the narrative -his irreverence, his ability to think on the fly and get out of shitty situations, his disbelief. Seeing all of those things under siege this season made me hurt for him in a way I hadn’t anticipated LOL. By the time he was ready to give in to Michael (and I love that what made him step away from that choice was Sam showing a trust in him he patently didn’t deserve lbr), sometimes I felt terribly for the guy.

I also wonder if this season kind of marked like... the beginning of the end for him, narrative-wise? Making him Michael’s vessel (his angel condom) is the kind of thing that turns him from subject into object, and that can doom characters ime. The fact that he ~resigns himself to Sam’s death when his identity as a character came with being His Brother’s Keeper is another slight.

-I continue having mixed feelings about Destiel too LMAO. I’ve decided I’m just going to try to enjoy the good and interesting parts while I can, while trying not to think of future developments that’ll likely sour the ship for me lol.

Because in truth, yeah, I enjoy their interactions a lot here! The Endverse was particularly enjoyable for me (back to that in a moment), but the entire season had a lot of gems. That moment in the finale, when Dean is wounded on his knees after Sam sacrifices himself, and Castiel resurrects and heals him with a touch? And Dean is staring in awe and asks him if he’s become God?? Like wtf am I supposed to do with that. WHO SAYS THAT. XDD

-The Endverse. Omgggggggg. The Endverse. I doubt I can say anything about it that hasn’t been said a thousand times, but seriously. I loooove it, all of it. My favourite was endverse!Castiel, ofc. The way he was in No Man’s Land, not an angel and not quite a human, his ways of trying to cope with that, how burned he was... I uncomfortably related to some of it too lmfao, but let’s not get into that xD.

Seeing both Deans interact was gr10 too. They really couldn’t stand each other lmfao (do you understand me now Dean?? They actually reminded me of two OCs in an original WIP of mine that are in a similar situation -in this case it’s the future version purposefully traveling to the past though-, which made me even fonder of the AU). And the Destiel? *chef’s kiss*. The bitterness, like when Castiel laughs when present!Dean berates endverse!Dean about the tortures and then purposefully says “I like past you” to hurt him asñldkfjasf. Or those looks when Dean returns to the past and tells Castiel to “never change” d’aw.

I loved Lucifer!Sam in this episode too (and personally, I think in the finale Lucifer -and Michael- should’ve changed his outfit too. Sam’s clothes just don’t get to The Devil’s levels, but that white suit was perfect). He was terrifying xD.

BTW: I’ve decided that, since we never see endverse!Castiel die, well. He didn’t xD. I could see Lucifer keeping him alive and captive out of a sense of nostalgia, as Castiel is the only other thing close to a fellow angel left. Might even decide to return his powers with time, or to ~entice him with such an offer lol. And ofc I headcanon Sam is still inside, occasionally trying to fight. Cue in all the Castiel/Lucifer and Castiel/Sam fic ideas too (I have waaaaay too many of those for this mini-verse. It’s very inspiring).

-I’m still on the fence at Lucifer’s motivations but I can’t question how the family issues fit so, so well into this ‘verse. “Family is hell” is the show’s thesis, after all xD. IMO the angels in general don’t feel like a family, they’re a military body/cult lol, but the Archangels are another matter. I guess is the whole “only four angels have seen God-slash-Dad” thing, the rest were... well, the help, apparently.

But Lucifer, Michael, and Gabriel do feel like brothers when they interact (I’m guessing here Gabriel is the Adam: discarded by the other two like nothing :)))). Raphael too, but since he doesn’t interact with them... does he get to later? Or is he the odd one out? Did the others avoid him because he kept quoting Nietzsche at dinner?? LOL.

-There are no words to explain how terribly I feel for Adam. JFC that poor KID. Who was kind and helpful and intuitive, and only wanted his mother back and to help stop the end of the world. And that Sam and Dean will leave rotting in Hell for a millennia :))). It’s kiiiiiiiiind of hard to do for your show’s “heroes” when they do shit like that lmfao. It’d be different if they never tried to make him feel he’s family, but Sam tried to convince him with the bs “because we’re blood” and they did a half-baked attempt at saving him from Zacharias, and then... yeah. At least he had Michael in the cage, but still.

-I was already spoiled of this, but the reveal that cupids made John and Mary fall in love is so chilling (good on Dean for punching that cupid asshole, btw). It puts what Mary says about John in flashbacks, about how much she loves him and how perfect he is, in such a terrifying light. And I’m under the impression that the show didn’t bother to deal with this properly when they resurrected Mary and just... I hate that tbh. It’s a narrative choice that should have a huuuge impact, dammit.

-I kind of loved how bitter and angry Bobby was about (temporarily, thanks to Crowley, his new demon bf -watch out Rufus) ending up in a wheelchair. That there were no platitudes or false sentimentality and it just... was.

-The Harvelles’ had a good send off. I can respect Kripke for wanting his faves to go on his terms lol. Having Jo refuse Dean’s offer of a fuck on their possible last night on Earth with “I rather spent it with a little thing I have self-respect”? Not because she doesn’t have feelings for him, but because she thinks she deserves better from him? I love it. This guy knows his pettiness xD

-The fact that this fandom seems to have ignored Gabriel x Kali is one of the reasons I’m never going to vibe with it, sns. Immortal exes? Check. She tricked him and killed him... but then it turns out HE tricked and he’s alive? Check. BUT THEN HE STILL GOES BACK AND SAVES HER, DYING BY HIS BROTHER’S HAND?? CHECK CHECK CHECK. Ugh, why can’t they come back to me. I know, I know, Kali is a WoC and those are only allowed one (1) appearance before they’re killed off, apparently. So it might be a good thing that she doesn’t return xD. But gosh, they were gr10.

-Death the Horseman’s intro cleared my skin. I love him. I love how utterly terrifying he is and how chilling his and Dean’s scene was. And I yearn to find a picture of the guy a little younger and with a goatee, because he’s the most perfect Discworld’s Vetinari fancast I’ve ever found xDD

-I’ve seen tons of commentary over the years, and especially lately for obvious reasons, about how this season finale would’ve been a much better ending for the show. I’m not there yet, and it does sound like the finale was a mess and this one’s was a very well constructed episode (and, ofc, the Final Love Interest was NOT blurry!!). But even if by the end I come to loathe the finale, there’s one reason I already know won’t let me agree on the s5 ending being perfect: God xDD

The episode makes Chuck come across as a ~benevolent figure and no, fuck that, do NOT want, take it away from me!! Give me God as the Big Bad Wolf, the last evil to conquer any day. It’s like Dumbledore all over again: I enjoy the character a lot more if I feel canon and I are on the same page wrt his shadiness xDD

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the-trashy-phoenix · 4 years ago

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Supernatural season 6 review (part 1)

Link to part 2:

At the beginning of the sixth season we have the chance to see and appreciate a new side of Dean: as he had promised Sam, he came back with Lisa (who seems to have accepted him straight away, because, even after all those years, she realises he’s the only man she’s ever loved) and lives in a proper family, behaving as Ben’s, Lisa’s son, father. Of course he still thinks about Sam, but he seems to be happy for the first time in his life, as he now has everything he’s always dreamed of since when he was a child. He’s a good dad to Ben, he’s so careful to avoid becoming like John and he’s also really faithful to Lisa. His life as a hunter clearly made him understand the advantages of having a quiet life and a “normal” family, so that he appreciates them a lot more than anyone could do. At first I thought Dean was not cut out for being a dad, and that Sam would surely make a better one, but these episodes proved me wrong, especially considering what Sam has now become. We already know (from the last episode of season five) that Sam is alive, so that’s not a big surprise, but we still have questions on what happened, the same ones Dean has when he meets him. As a matter of fact, he finds out he’s been alive for a very long time, hunting with his new family, the Campbells, led by their mother’s dad, Samuel, who’s been brought back to life with Sam, even though they both don’t know who did it. Dean is at first angry with Sam (but we’re used to it at this point) because he didn’t tell him he was alive, but Sam’s intentions were good, as he wanted Dean to maintain his happy family life. This dream of letting Dean out of hunting appears to be utopic, because being a hunter is far from being just Dean’s job, it’s part of his soul and now that he knows his brother is alive he can’t ignore anymore the continuous impulse of starting hunting again he constantly feels. Dean is deeply in doubt about what he has and wants to do, because he can’t bear either to lose Sam or Lisa and Ben: a sort of compromise is proposed by Lisa, and Dean accepts. He’ll start to hunt again with Sam and he’ll come and visit his family whenever he can. I really loved Lisa’s comprehensive attitude towards Dean, which testifies she loves and knows him so much she understands he could never give up on his life as a hunter and accepts to adapt to whatever makes Dean happy. That’s rare considering the people Dean can count on are few. However, what Lisa and Dean haven’t fully considered at first is that Ben and her will automatically become one of Dean’s weak points and that could put them in danger.

About Castiel, he’s a little absent in the Winchester’s hunts (but he always somehow finds time to help them when they need it, and that shows how much he loves them and cares about them) because he’s fighting in Paradise against Raphael who wants to take power. By the way neither Castiel knows how Sam was saved. One of the main plots of the season is the loss of some weapons from Paradise, which are now on earth and are improperly used by people. As always is Sam and Dean’s job to avoid a catastrophe caused by angels and recollect those weapons, while fighting ordinary demons and other monsters. It comes out that an angel, Balthazar, owns some of those weapons: he’s quite of an ambiguous character, as angels sometimes are in this show, and seems to be just indifferent to what happens both in Paradise and on earth. He’s surely not a completely good angel, as Castiel, but sometimes helps the boys in hunts and in their personal issues. I think he could be compared to another weird (but very interesting) character we’ve met in the last season and we get to know better in this one: Crowley. As Balthazar is an angel, Crowley is a demon, and we’ve learnt that in Supernatural there’s not a big difference between the two. I think what makes them similar is the fact that they keep fighting the Winchesters and pretend to dislike them, but they never actually harm them and seem even to quite like the brothers.

Through an involving episode based on Bobby’s point of view, the fourth, we understand more deeply what he does on a typical day apart from helping Sam and Dean. His routine is very stressful, so that we can justify him for being a bit rude and actually feel more than ever like the Winchesters take him for granted and never thank him enough, which they finally do after a small fight at the end of the episode. This change in perspective was quite unexpected, in a show were the main and only focus are Sam and Dean, but it was really appreciated as it gives the chance to see the story and past plots under a new light. Speaking of Crowley and Bobby, the old man is smart enough (even if he’s so busy giving Rufus and the brothers his precious help) to find out the demon’s real name and a way to make him change the terms of the contract: he’ll live his life without being persecuted in ten years and will as well keep his legs.

At this point I have to mention episode five, which constitutes a turning point for a lot of reasons (by the way, I also loved the reference to Twilight, first of all because I really appreciate how Supernatural refers and quotes other real shows or movies, but also because, I have to admit, some years ago I was a huge fan of the saga). As I was saying, this vampire episode is interesting because Dean himself is transformed. This fact marks a deep change in his relationship with Lisa and Ben: Dean, convinced he’s going to die soon, goes and visits his family but can’t control his vampire instinct and accidentally harms Ben, and as a result Lisa banishes him from their lives. At that moment Dean has the last proof he can’t maintain his bond with them, which will lead him and Lisa to fall apart without even clarifying the situation after Dean turns human. As I said loads of time regarding his relationship with his brother, one of the Dean’s features I hate the most is the fact he’s never able to talk with his loved ones straightforwardly about serious stuff, and that’s why problems always grow bigger. At the end of the season, the story of Lisa and Dean brutally comes to an end, since Ben and her are captured by Crowley’s demons and Lisa gets severely injured: that’s the point where Dean understands definitively they can’t have this kind of relationship for their own good and asks Castiel to erase their memories about him. This is one of the saddest parts of the entire season, because we know well what Lisa and Ben meant to Dean and we also know that they were his last hope for happiness, which is irremediably gone.

Talking about Sam, here it is the second shocking scene of episode five: Sam sees Dean’s transformation happening under his eyes without doing anything. When Dean recalls it, he gets mad, of course without asking Sam for some explanation, as the two are not able to solve their conflicts in a civil way simply by talking, and adds this episode to the list of Sam’s weird behaviours, which makes him think there’s something wrong with him. As Dean is the person who knows Sam better, he’s sure his brother is not okay, even though everyone, including Sam himself, thinks he’s exaggerating. He asks help from the only one person he can really trust (apart from Bobby), Castiel, who reveals to him the shocking truth: Sam’s soul is gone, and was probably left in hell in the cage with Lucifer. That explains Sam’s recent behaviour, far from the kindness and humanity we’ve learnt to love about him. I was really worried about him in finding out why he had behaved so badly and he had at times preferred Samuel (with whom he hunted a lot in the past year and did some regrettable things, as we learn from some flashbacks), also because both Cas and Crowley are convinced Sam’s soul is lost forever and irretrievably damaged by the devil, but part of me was relieved the Sam we had seen so far in the season was not the real Sam. However, I think there was a kind of contradiction in the way the authors depicted soulless Sam, as he sometimes seems to actually have feelings left, for example when he doesn’t show up with Dean to let him go on with his happy family life, in the first episode, but that could just be an isolated moment of awakening, moved by his huge love for his brother.

From that moment on, a new phase in the storyline is opened, as Sam has to depend completely on Dean who tries to teach him a sort of morality and at the same time looks for a way to restore Sam’s soul. Dean even has to convince his brother he has to want his soul back, because he cannot trust him without it, while Sam seems to feel better and stronger without. As if all that soul thing wasn’t enough, they have to face the Campbells: Samuel proves himself untrustworthy, and Dean decides to follow him to his secret hideout. He finds out Samuel is hiding some creatures he said he had killed and that he’s looking for a place Dean had no idea existed, Purgatory, and he’s doing it working for Crowley. Dean never really trusted his granddad and the Campbells, but could never imagine not only that they were working for a demon, and a very powerful one (even if Samuel did it because Crowley promised to resuscitate Mary). Also, Samuel said nothing about the fact that he and Sam were brought back by Crowley to help him find Purgatory and extend his power. Moreover Crowley, ambiguous as always, says he can restore Sam’s soul and cunningly obliges the Winchesters to hunt for him. Sam, who is way more rational because of the lack of soul, knows it’s their only choice, while Dean accepts more recklessly. As a matter of fact, this situation doesn’t last as they decide to break their subjugation and find another way to save Sam, with the help of another quite ambiguous character, which appears and disappears both to kill and help the brothers, Meg. This time she helps them fight Crowley and at the end they (a strange group formed by the Winchesters, Cas and Meg) manage to kill him. Therefore, we find ourselves at the middle of the season with Dean basically at the beginning of his research for Sam’s soul. Luckily, he finds really soon a way; unfortunately, it implies a deal with a quite dangerous character, Death: he will restore Sam’s soul if Dean will live a day in his shoes. What I appreciated of the personification of Death is that he isn’t properly evil in the show, just as the evil connotation mankind gives to death is merely arbitrary: Death is nothing more than a natural phenomenon which must happen necessarily in each human life, and Dean is given the chance to understand that deeply and reconsider his thoughts about it.

After a long and painful period of time passed in the panic room, Sam wakes up for the first time in a year with his soul, protected by a wall which is aimed to hide all that’s happened from when he fell in the hole with Lucifer and Raphael, because hell memories could kill him (and he’s already been through a lot). It was a joy to see our good little Sammy back, we (and Dean) had missed his gentle and cute attitude so much! He’s been through so much with demons and psychic things Dean keeps thinking any problem could be too much for him and he will explode, but somehow Sam is always able to bear them, while Dean always tries, in vain most of the time, to protect him. This time, as Sam doesn’t remember a thing from his soulless year, Dean hides him the truth (at this point of the show we know him so well he is completely predictable and the pattern of the brothers not telling each other important facts is the exact repetition of some other episodes), but it ends better than other times because Cas reveals Sam everything without knowing he didn’t know and Sam seems to understands Dean’s motives (after all, they’re brothers).

Before moving to the finale, I can’t but mention the metanarrative episode of this season, the 15th, in my opinion the most mind blowing of this type: Dean and Sam find themselves trapped on the Supernatural set where they’re actors and of course known by their real names. This episode gifts us with the most funny scenes of Castiel, whose real name is Misha, posting tweet all the time about the most stupid things and of Ruby/Genevieve, married with Jared in real life and also in this episode: that’s where reality seems to be weirder and funnier than the show itself.

After Rufus’ death, another really good character left on the way, and the defeat of the “Mother of all things”, the main villain of the season who’s killed quite easily through phoenix ashes collected back in 1861 by Sam and Dean themselves –nothing strange-, we find out the last shocking fact of the season: the alliance between Castiel and Crowley (who’s still alive) to find Purgatory. I was quite surprised because I couldn’t believe the naïve angel would cooperate with a demon and, even worse, without ever telling the Winchesters. I don’t think they would be happy about their deal, but at least they could’ve honestly known what their friend was up to: this way he cheated them so badly they couldn’t even believe it until the very last moment. That’s no excuse that Cas allied with Crowley just to take on some soul from Purgatory, gain more power to finally defeat Raphael and win the war in Paradise, and also that he made the demon promise the Winchesters and Bobby would be safe, because to reach his purpose he spied and lied to his friends the whole time. He should’ve known the brothers have very few people they can trust and losing them is extremely painful. Castiel himself has no real friends apart from Sam and Dean, but he seems to think they’re expendable for a higher purpose and doesn’t seem to realise how guilty he will feel after betraying them and how it will hurt to lose them.

We are now at the last episode, and we’re given a new reason to be mad at Castiel: he breaks Sam’s mental wall, letting him recall all his memories from hell. Not satisfied with all that mess he’s already made, he manages to open the Purgatory and take all the power on him, refusing to give Crowley his part of the deal. I really can’t figure out what’s wrong with end-of-sixth-season Castiel, I guess the perspective of having a huge power and becoming a sort of god went to his head, but still I think his behaviour is so incoherent. I couldn’t believe it when he told his old friends to worship him as their god if they didn’t want to get killed… Like, for real Cas? I don’t know what’ll happen in season seven, I just know I want dear old Castiel back.

- Irene 💕

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blackfolksmakingcomics · 5 years ago

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I Just Woke Up

Howdy, hello, and salutations.

It’s been . . . too damned long since I’ve talked to you guys at BFMC, and a lot of it has to do with personal issues on the other side of the screen. There have been some dark times lately, but for the first time in a long time, I’m feeling pretty groovy. I’m losing weight, finally understanding where I want to go in this complicated relationship I’m in, getting back into my art and writing, creating some great things, and working on projects I’m not ready to reveal quite yet. In all, I’m stronger than I look.

Also, I’ve been trying to find my place in the whole Black Comic Fandom. Being shunned, scoffed at, and muted by the creator of #BlackComicsMonth for stating a differing opinion about shows all while questioning my blackness was the moment that broke me. That, and the dogpile that followed, kind of hurt too, but I’m a big boy. There’s also this weird belief that Black creators must only work on Black characters. That seems limiting, counter-productive, and counter-progressive. It’s almost like those who believe that wants to keep creators in a creative ghetto of sorts, and that’s no way to be.

I mean, can’t I enjoy Black Panther, Storm, Luke Cage, Bumblebee, John Stewart, Vixen, Cyborg, Monica Rambeau, Misty Knight, Miles Morales, Ironheart (fourth picture), and Naomi McDuffie even though they all had White creators? In the same light, can’t I enjoy Kyle Rayner, The Question, Plastic Man, Superman, Batman, or other mainstream titles and characters who aren’t Black but written and drawn by Black creators? I can’t enjoy a show like Craig of the Creek, which doesn’t have a Black creator but has a predominately Black cast, and a show like OK KO! Let’s Be Heroes [second pic courtesy of Cartoon Network], which doesn’t have a Black cast of characters but does have a Black creator? According to some, no.

So, yeah, screw that ashy crowd.

I want to celebrate both Black comic creators and Black comic characters. I’m all for GOOD representations of the African diaspora across all mediums, including comics, including both the characters and the talent behind them. I love to showcase creators like Anthony Piper (whose Trill League just got picked up to become an animated series on Quibi), Nilah MacGurder, Sanford Greene, Jamal Campbell (the artist behind DC’s Naomi and Far Sector [third pic]), Afua Richardson, Ashley Woods, Jon Gray, and Khary Randolph among so many as well as writers like David Walker, N.K. Jemisin, Eve Ewing, Ta-Nehisi Coates, Mildred Louis, Chuck Collins, and others. I’d love to talk about more animated projects that caught my eye, like Wesley T. Louis’ The Mighty Grand Pinton (top pic). Black folks are still creating comics and so much more, and it’s a pretty awesome place.

That’s the thing about loving a medium like comics. There’s no real way to enjoy them, just as long as we do. Opinions tend to differ. I know there are people that don’t like sites like BFMC. I’ve gotten a few hecklers now and then, but you know what? That’s cool. I’ll just keep on presenting these characters and creators to audiences that don’t know about them. That’s my mission here.

I don’t know what the next several months or two will look like in the future of this site, but I’m making it a mission to become more active here in 2020.

If you like what I do around this site, do you mind helping a brother out? I don’t ask for much, but considering I’m a freelancer due to the fact that I’m currently a caregiver, funds are low and I can’t do a lot of things I want to do. I’m going to be fine, but if you could help, I’d greatly appreciate it.

Amazon Wish List:

https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/2AMUWUOGE5QG1?ref_=wl_share

PayPal:

http://paypal.me/nemalki

I promise I won’t bombard you with this kind of message monthly. I just needed to put it out there.

If you know any indie creators who need love, I’ll showcase them here as well. The more, the merrier. Let’s have fun again!

#state of the site #BFMC #comics #animation #Black creators

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garbagegrimoire · 4 years ago

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color out of space

This was easily the best movie of the week & one of the best movies I’ve watched during this challenge.

So, I have a complicated relationship with Lovecraft & his work.

I openly believe that man should have been launched into the sun — we needed whole man removal services, he was a complete toilet. Lovecraft was a pants-peeing racist fuck & sometimes it’s a challenge to read his original works because his heinous personal beliefs bled through.

However, I’m still very attached to some aspects of it. Some of my all-time favorite stories were written in the mythos & I’m a horror writer & Call of Cthulhu keeper & homebrew creator who has written both stories & gaming materials within the mythos. That said, if you haven’t read Lovecraft, I’d recommend you start with something like Dreams from the Witch House or Steampunk Cthulhu or Lovecraft Country.

That said, if anyone wants to hate-read Lovecraft stories & rage about them with me — my inboxes are open.

Anyway, it’s safe to say, while I would fight Lovecraft the man (& win), some of his mythos are my favorite. & this movie stayed true to the spirit of the mythos, employed decent special effects, & created some pretty compelling characters to be chewed up in the unspeakable maw of an ancient & formless cosmic evil.

I loved Lavinia, Nathan, & Ezra the best.

Lavinia is a young witch using desperate intention rituals to try to protect her mother from the cancer she’s shakily recovering from.

Nathan is a fucking dweeb-ass dad, doing his best to try to remain a relevant counterpart to his workaholic wife while trying to engage his family an idyllic farm life.

& Ezra is a stoner-squatter who lives in a shack in the woods with his cat.

Their lives are interrupted by a sudden ‘comet’ glowing a strange purple color that banks in the family’s yard.

Nathan gives a fucking cringe-worthy interview & somehow manages to tell the gd mayor that it all happened while he was banging his wife. But by the second day the rock has ‘disappeared’ & strange things start happening.

Throughout the course of the movie we’re treated to some real fucked-up special effects creating monsters out of animals & people changed & melded together, glowing with the same strange color seen in the rock. & some real enjoyable Nic-Cage-ass acting from Cage who plays Nathan.

One of my favorite moments is him looking at the hideous melded & writhing remains of his wife & son & picking up his shotgun to go out & fight a fucking space infection as if it’s something he can confront, jump over a desk at, & shoot in the face with deershot. I mean, instead of putting the poor suffering duo out of their misery & getting his remaining children the fuck out of there on foot if necessary.

I did not appreciate the scene where Lavinia is carving — I guess, runes — into herself. I get that she may be under the influence of the color but there is no element of wicca that encourages self-harm & there are already plenty of uncharitable reads of pagan religions in the horror genre. I think the ambiguity is uncomfortable. As much as I liked the movie, I felt like the writers could have done more with Lavinia & the ritual elements, because with the way it ended it felt as if something was there but it was just before the bloom.

Anyway, shit. I’ve gone on long enough...

Podcast notes

We will be discussing Color out of Space with the rest of the creatures week picks on the second episode of the podcast due out by Monday morning, Oct. 26. Subscribe by searching for Sage Cigarettes Presents: A Ghost in the Magazine or by following this link to Spotify.

Creatures week ranking

Color out of Space

Wolf Cop

Spring

Killer Klowns from Outer Space

Phantasm

Bad Moon

Overall ranking

Train to Busan

Interview with the Vampire

Color out of Space

Nosferatu

Bram Stoker’s Dracula

Vampire’s Kiss

Re-Animator

Wolf Cop

Spring

Killer Klowns From Outer Space

Fright Night

Phantasm

Dolls

The Doll

Child’s Play

Dollman vs. Cursed Toys

John Carpenter’s Vampires

Dracula (2007)

Puppet Master III

Heidi

Dead Birds

Plan 9 from Outer Space

Bad Moon

Trilogy of Terror

#sage31days #sage cigarettes magazine #31 days of horror #31daysofhorror #horror movies #horror review #creature feature #original sketch

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foxtophat · 5 years ago

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HEYYYYYY BUDDY!!! guess what? it’s 6:30 and i haven’t had a chance to get onto my animal crossing fishing tourney yet so i’m gonna keep this short!

today’s chapter is about nick and john (as usual), and their trip out to the river to check some animal traps. i know, it sounds exciting, but trust me it gets better. you’ll just have to read to find out how!!!

i really appreciate all of you guys reading and reblogging and liking and commenting and kudosing and just being fantastic people all around! it’s so wonderful seeing people enjoying my work and i know i say it every time, but i MEAN IT every time! i really really appreciate you guys!

below the cut is the chapter text for all those non-ao3 people (or people who are lazy and have xkit like me). if you enjoy what i’m doing and haven’t already hit me up, i love hearing what you guys think! you know the rest of this part probably: likes, reblogs, comments, kudos, etc etc are all super cool and i would appreciate them, but i also know we live in hectic times so don’t worry yourself. you do you okay!!!

now off i go to catch some fish!!! enjoy nick and john being full dumbasses for 4,000 words!

Nick knows that Carmina's runny nose, itchy eyes, and sore throat are from allergies. He's sure Kim knows it, too. But Carmina has only had one other allergy attack in her life, and today's heavy pollen has left her a miserable, bedridden wreck. It particularly sucks that it had to be this morning, because Nick and she were going to check the traps, which means she was already half out of bed before the real misery began. She hasn't been truly sick since she was four, and Nick is hoping that they can keep that streak going for the foreseeable future, so of course he isn't going to push her to come — it's just too bad, is all.

Of course, with Carmina bed-bound and Kim in anxiety mode over it, Nick doesn't have a lot of choices when it comes to checking the traps. Either he leaves them out there for some predator to take advantage of, or he trusts John to have his back out in the woods. Considering everything that's happened, Nick is fairly confident that John isn't a threat, but that doesn't mean he can't have some lingering reservations. After all, John has been a decent person for less than a year. He might be getting the hang of it now, but that doesn't mean it won't be easy to backslide into bad habits if he's given the chance.

John killing him is a toss-up, but there's no doubt Kim will murder him if he heads off on his own. So, once Carmina is bemoaning her fate in bed and Kim has her under control, Nick meets John downstairs.

"Lucky you," he says, interrupting John mid-breakfast. "Looks like you and I are going on a trip."

Although John looks at him as though he expects it to be a short trip out behind a barn, he manages to respond with a balanced amount of sarcasm. "I thought I wasn't supposed to leave," he says, accidentally pulling off a great impression of Carmina in the middle of an argument.

"Well, you already broke that rule, what's one more time gonna hurt? C'mon, Kim will kill me if I go by myself, and I'm pretty sure she might kill you if you hang around and stress her out more."

It's the first time since bringing John home that he's left the property, not that it's a particularly exciting first trip out. They aren't going very far — there are three traps set up along the river, easy enough to find if you follow the embankment — but John still keeps close, as if they're moseying down some foreign avenue and he doesn't want to get lost. Nick knows the route pretty well by now, but he's willing to take it slow so that John might memorize some of it himself.

"Strange how little things have changed out here," John says after a while. "I was expecting a blighted hell-scape, but all of this seems... normal."

"From what I've heard, the greenery took some time coming back, so we missed most of the actual apocalypse. I guess nature had a pretty big leg up without all the people around."

John hums neutrally in response. Nick glances his way, expecting him to be lost in some dark thoughts like he usually seems to be, but John is only observing the tall, thin trees and their patched canopies. Either he's getting better at handling his inner turmoil, or he's gotten better at hiding when he's spiraling.

"I guess you didn't get to see much lying in that ditch I found you in, huh?" Nick asks. Despite himself, he's not trying to be a dick about it. He's just curious, is all — John doesn't talk about his bunker or the circumstances that brought him topside where Nick could find him. For all Nick knows, John was up and running around for days or even weeks before he got sick.

"Not really," John admits. "Although from what it looks like, not much has changed."

"Yeah. You'd have to go into town to really see the difference."

At the mention of town, John's neutral silence turns noticeably uncomfortable. "I suppose I would," he says, hedging awkwardly around the topic. It's the same routine he pulls out every time Nick or Kim mention going to public spaces, especially this past month or so. Nick understands his reservations — hell, you couldn't pay Nick to go somewhere where he would be as unwanted as John would be in town — but Nick also doesn't want John to hide for the rest of his life. He doesn't think he can keep a secret that long.

John surprises Nick by taking it one step further. "They have enough to worry about without my inglorious resurrection making things worse," he admits, offering his first genuine reason not to go beyond not wanting to be killed by a mob.

Nick chuckles. "That's awfully considerate of you," he teases. He's managed to find a balance between antagonizing and friendly ribbing, although the difference is probably lost on John. "At this rate, you might convince people you're a whole other person."

Almost immediately, Nick regrets the suggestion. It would be relatively easy to fade into anonymous obscurity if John wanted — not that he thinks John would want to. Nick just doesn't want to be the guy giving him bad ideas.

"It's simpler to stay here," John replies, sounding as though he'd dismissed that option a while back already. "Safer. If Jacob taught me anything, it was that I wouldn't make it one week by myself in the wilderness."

It's another first to have John mention his family outside of verbally disowning them for other people's comfort. Nick wants to pry up those floorboards in particular, because the brotherly relationship between the youngest and oldest Seed had to be a bizarre one, but John's pensive enough about it without him digging further. These are the baby steps that Kim's always talking about — he has to let them be small, and let John take them when he's ready.

They eventually reach the clearing, where scraggly trees give way to what used to be the river's embankment. With the river having moved some ten yards, the land has been left open to grow thick with weeds and vines. The traps they set out here tend to have the best luck; even Carmina's earliest snares managed to catch squirrels and rabbits all the time. Since it's been a couple of days since they last had meat beyond old jerky, Nick is especially hopeful that they're going to get lucky again today. The more traps that they fill, the more food they have, and the more food they have, the more they can trade and give away. Nick isn't sure if paying Grace's trust back with rabbits is going to work, but damned if he isn't going to try.

Unfortunately, it looks like something else got to the trap before them. Nick examines the fibrous old rope that had kept the trap anchored to the tree, which must have frayed enough for some predator to drag the cage down to the bottom of the incline. It's an old animal control trap from before the bombs, so it's unlikely to have broken, but Nick is not looking forward to making it down the embankment and getting mud up to his knees. Especially not while wearing his last pair of mostly-intact jeans.

"What are you doing?" John asks incredulously as Nick starts to gently pick his way through the brush down the slope. "That's a terrible idea."

"Suddenly you know so much about everything," Nick grouses. "We need that trap. I've got this, just stay there and —"

Nick hopes he never has to admit it again, but John is apparently right to warn him. The dirt under the thick foliage is loose and wet from the earlier rains, which Nick only realizes as he sinks his boot right into the root system of the vines holding the erosion at bay. He pitches down the hill, managing to bring up his arm a fraction of a second too late to save himself from going headfirst into the ground. His elbow takes most of the damage, followed immediately by his temple, ringing his bell so thoroughly that he misses the rest of his full-on tumble down the slope. He's face-first in the dirt one second, and face-up to the canopy the next, the world still spinning even when Nick is pretty sure he's hit the bottom.

Somewhere nearby he can hear the river, and all around him are deep green leaves and bright pink flowers. Sunlight shines in through the trees, and for a moment the amber light turns the world around him into an alien landscape. The plants rustle in the breeze; somewhere on the incline above, he can hear roots tearing through the dirt. They're miles away, on the contour just above him, and Nick struggles to focus on them.

Somebody is calling his name. How long has he been lying here? Dazed and aching as he is, Nick can't tell if it's been seconds, minutes or longer since he fell face-first down the hill. He doesn't want to move — his entire body aches, his ankle throbs, and there's a painful blooming knot behind his ear that tells Nick he definitely hit his head somewhere on the way down.

The sunlight shining down on him is blotted out as John Seed looms into view as he reaches the bottom of the embankment. Nick has trouble making heads or tails of what he's seeing at first, but as John approaches, he starts to make more visual sense. He's looking around the dirt, sliding his foot through the brush before every step. Nick doesn't know what he's looking for, but as soon as Nick catches sight of the rifle lying in the weeds nearby, he starts to get an idea.

He must see it at the same time as John does. As John reaches down to pick it up, Nick tries to come up with something more intelligible than a painful groan, failing miserably. John weighs the rifle in his hands, staring at it, largely ignoring Nick's struggling to move. Nick barely manages to push himself to his elbows by the time John sighs with noticeable relief, pulling the strap over his shoulder so that the rifle can hang harmlessly off his back.

He crouches down next to Nick, who's still struggling, even after the danger has passed. "Quit it," John tells him, reaching out to steady him before he goes falling back into the dirt. The relief he'd felt holding the rifle must've been short-lived, because he only looks concerned and mildly upset now. Nick can't help but think he's upset because Nick thought he was gonna shoot him. He should apologize for that, probably.

"Nick," John repeats.

"Ugh," Nick groans. "I think I smacked a rock on my way down." He reaches up to feel the back of his head, and it's only John's grip on his shoulder that keeps him from falling back again.

"Stop squirming," John sighs. "Just — stop ."

Nick hates to listen to John's orders, but he's the one who didn't go ass-over-teakettle down the hill, so he's sort of the de-facto leader for now. It's a hard sell, but it's not like Nick's got any options right now, so he has to let John feel out the back of his head and reserves his complaints to pained hissing every time John prods the throbbing spot on his skull.

He feels momentarily faint when John pulls his hand away and reveals his bloody fingertips, but John doesn't seem phased in the least. "Lucky for all of us, you didn't crack your skull open," he says, somehow managing to sound both irritated and relieved at the same time.

He looks around them, which reminds Nick for the first time that they're at the bottom of a steep incline that goes on for a good mile in either direction. They're gonna have to go up the hill, which means Nick is going to need to keep it together at least long enough to get up to the top.

"I can make it," he tells John, who tries to mask his concern under schooled irritation as he looks back to Nick. "C'mon, I just need a hand up."

"I don't think it's going to be as easy as you seem to believe," John replies.

Nick groans, trying to push himself up. He doesn't admit how relieved he is when John grudgingly comes to help. He pulls Nick up by both shoulders, easily enough that it unnerves the crap out of Nick, but what's he gonna do? Complain that John is strong enough to help him?

As soon as he tries to put pressure on his left ankle, Nick knows he's screwed. He bites his tongue for the first second or two, but the sharp glass twinge every time he tries to rest his weight on it is too much to bear. "Ah, fuck ," he hisses, ready to sink to the ground again, "Yeah, that's not good."

John grabs Nick before he can drop back down to the ground, taking the weight that Nick's leg can't handle. "Damn it," John grunts. "You couldn't have listened to me just once?"

Nick laughs like it's supposed to be a joke, but John only looks offended in response. He yanks Nick's arm over his shoulder and asks briskly, "Which way?"

Nick is still thinking of climbing back up right here, but with his leg like it is that's probably not a great option. "Uh, that way," Nick chooses almost at random, his only hunch that the northern bend might ease more than the southern one.

John doesn't say much while they walk. Nick doesn't either, mostly focused on keeping his weight off his foot and trying not to give in to the urge to lie down and nap for a decade or two. Every wrong step on his bad leg makes his vision gray around the edges, but John walks slowly enough that those become few and far between.

Nick can't believe that John has ever had this amount of patience within him, much less that he's using it now as Nick grunts and tries to maintain his balance. All of his weird television ads had made him seem intense and caring, and all of the Peggies seemed to find him comforting, but Nick had realized pretty quickly that it was all an act. Or, he'd thought it was, until now, finding himself being partially carried through the forest without even the pettiest of complaining.

The incline begins to ease. Nick has no idea how long they've been walking — it's either been minutes or hours, and it's not his job to keep track of that kind of thing right now. All he's supposed to do is keep calm and coherent. Mostly coherent. Awake, anyway.

"We'll go up here," John decides at one point. "Do you need to rest?"

"What?" Nick asks, blindsided by the question. "No. What?"

"Oh, good," John sighs, "I was wondering when the brain damage would show."

He seems offended again. Nick keeps accidentally offending him, which sucks. When Nick had wanted to offend him, he never managed to, but now he doesn't even have to try. He should probably apologize, but that would set a bad precedent, wouldn't it?

"Man, I don't know, just get me home already!"

John heaves an extremely frustrated sigh, accompanied by a heavy eye-roll, and then he and Nick start the long trek up the hill. It's slow, slow going; even without Nick's sprained ankle, the dirt is loose under the brush and every step could lead to either of them rolling back down to the bottom. Even so, John keeps a firm grip on Nick's arm, digging his boots into the hillside before helping Nick drag himself up. Not once does Nick think he's going to fall.

They stop to rest at the top of the incline. Nick flops down, almost lying back before remembering that he should probably keep awake. That's what you're supposed to do with a concussion. He hasn't had one since he was a teen, but it's sort of like riding a bike. Right?

After taking a minute to catch their breath, John pulls Nick back to his feet, taking noticeable care not to force more strain than necessary on his bad leg. It's not a long walk of shame from here, but Nick's making it difficult to go at any speed other than a crawl. Even though he's taking forever, and he has to stop every few feet, John remains oddly patient. Well, it's not really odd - most decent people would cut a guy with a busted ankle and a concussion some slack. It's just - well, John isn't most decent people. He isn't even any decent people. But he waits for Nick to catch his breath when he seems winded and doesn't comment on how easy it would be to throw him to the wolves like this. Nick's made plenty of jokes and off-color comments about that kind of thing, but now with the tables turned, John isn't giving as good as he gets, and the guilt is starting to gnaw irritatingly in his gut. He probably should apologize.

He doesn't, but that's mostly due to his struggle to keep conscious. The longer they walk, the weirder the world around him feels — fuzzy and distant, sort of unreal. He's more watching the situation unfold than experiencing it. He needs to sit down and rest. He needs to take a goddamn nap and try not to use his brain any more than he usually does.

John waits until they reach the airstrip to reveal his fraying nerves. "Kim!" he shouts, repeating her name one more time for good measure before muttering mostly to himself, "She is going to kill me."

"Welcome to my life," Nick replies, because John just wasn't quiet enough.

Kim rushes from the house before they've cleared the hangar, catching herself a few feet from colliding with them. She looks ready to fight, or run, or both , but instead, she hovers there anxiously. "What the hell happened?" she exclaims, trying not to raise her voice as Carmina watches them from the porch.

"I'm fine," Nick groans, waving Kim's concern away before it starts freaking him out. "Slipped down the hill is all."

John doesn't sound so blase about it as he tells Kim grimly, "I think he may have a concussion."

"I definitely have a concussion," Nick agrees, having forgotten about that part. "Sprained my ankle, too. I don't think it's broken, anyway..."

Kim sighs, relieved and exasperated in equal measures. "Come on, let's get him inside," she says, and to Nick's never-ending surprise, she willingly lets John continue supporting him. She lets them go by as she stops by Carmina, who looks sniffly but otherwise healthy. "Everything's fine," she tells her as John helps Nick into the house. "Your dad just slipped."

"I thought John wasn't supposed to have guns?" Carmina asks.

"Let me worry about that. Go ahead and read without me, I'll be back down in a minute."

When Kim catches up, John shrugs out from under Nick's arm, letting her take over supporting him as he goes to disarm himself. Every movement he takes is slow and deliberate, leaving no surprises as he carefully pulls the rifle from his shoulder.

"Just put it over there," Kim tells him, and to Nick's surprise, she doesn't give him a backward glance as she helps Nick up the stairs. She doesn't even indicate where "over there" is, she's so unconcerned with John having a firearm!

He manages to share a bewildered look with John before craning his neck becomes too much, Kim dragging him upstairs to the comfort of their room. "What are you doing," he hisses at her as she shoulders their way through the door. "You left him alone with the gun and Carmina ?"

Kim sighs wearily in response. "What did you do?" she asks as she maneuvers him to the bed.

He sits with a groan, immediately thinking of how nice a nap sounds right now, but Kim's hand on his shoulder keeps him upright. He can take a nap once they make sure he didn't do more than ring his bell. "One of the traps was down a hill, and... I guess I followed it. Really, Kim, it's no big deal."

"You should have been more careful," Kim scolds, although her worry is keeping her from chewing him out properly. "What if John hadn't been there?"

Nick waves a hand, probably too dismissively. "C'mon, you would've found me eventually."

Kim scowls at him until he almost apologizes, distracted only when she hears John coming up the stairs. "Okay," she says, "You need to rest. Don't move. I'll get you some water and we'll clean you up."

She leaves the room before Nick can argue any of the points. He huffs at her retreat, but at least she doesn't lock him in like she would whenever he got the flu. Probably because the lock doesn't work so well anymore, but Nick can pretend it's her trusting him not to get out of bed.

Through the crack in the door, he can hear Kim as she meets John out on the landing. It's only then that Nick realizes how dangerous all of this could be — but the actual threat doesn't feel as present as it used to with John. He's gone rotten-soft, apparently, but at least John isn't likely to take advantage of it. Not without some convincing, anyway.

"I tried to stop him," John says. "He wouldn't listen."

"Welcome to the club," Kim replies, which might be true, but ow . "Thanks for bringing him back."

John doesn't say anything to that. Nick closes his eyes, only to be surprised when John continues the conversation. "I know where the trap is," he says, "It'll only take an hour or two for me to go get it."

Kim clicks her tongue. "No way."

"It can't just sit there. And there are still other traps to check." There's a beat before John continues in frustration, "What? You can't possibly think I'm trying to escape ."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Kim says. "It's a family rule. Nobody goes out by themselves if they can help it. Don't worry about the trap, okay? We can get it later."

Nick doesn't hear John's response. He's not even sure there is one. After a quiet moment, Kim speaks again. "You can go in, if you want. I'll be back up in a minute."

"Yeah," John replies. His voice sounds really rough, enough so that he clears his throat and repeats, "Yes."

Even then, Nick doesn't quite expect it when John eventually enters the room. "You can come in, I'm not dying ," Nick groans when John hesitates at the door. It's enough to earn him a nasty look, which is better than the weird sickbed sympathy, and John shuts the door behind him with a lot of false bravado to make up for his discomfort.

Nick opens his mouth to make a joke about John using this chance to kill him, but the words don't come. It must be the concussion making him feel guilty even thinking about it. His brain is addled and he's thinking more about how hard John's been working now rather than how about how awful John was before. Still — it would be a low blow, and Nick is trying to be better than that.

"You... uh..." Nick clears his throat, the words rattling around in his head out of order until he shakes them into place. "You... really came through for me back there."

"What?" John asks, startled.

Nick is startled, too, because as soon as the words come out of his mouth, the months-long ball of guilt that's grown in his stomach eases somewhat. "Yeah," he admits. "It's probably the concussion talking, but, uh. Thanks."

You'd think Nick had tried to punch him with how John reacts. "You're welcome," he rasps, looking like he needs to sit down.

"Don't think this lets you off the hook or anything," Nick adds. "You're still a miserable bastard, and I still really dislike you, but at least I know I can trust you not to leave me for dead."

The word trust seems somehow worse than Nick's thanks. "You don't mean that," he says, like he can demand Nick change his emotions.

But Nick does mean it, and being told otherwise is frankly sort of irritating. "Of course I do. You think I would have taken you with me today if I thought you were gonna betray me?"

"I... hadn't thought about it," John admits.

"And would I have let you carry a firearm into the house if I thought you would use it on us?"

"You didn't have a choice in the matter."

Nick groans. "Jesus, John."

"Sorry," John snaps, not apologetic in the least as he points out, "It's not like I'm used to this."

"What, people trusting you?"

John doesn't have the chance to respond; before he can do more than look moderately offended, the door opens. Kim comes in with Carmina in tow, checking their expressions for just a second before letting Carmina follow her into the room.

"Everything good in here?" she asks, just in case.

"I could use a nap," Nick tells her, as if he hasn't been having a heart-to-heart with John Seed just seconds ago. When Carmina comes forward, she's got a stiff upper lip and an extremely worried pair of eyes, so he makes sure to smile big for her. "What's the matter, sweetheart? I just rolled my ankle."

She reaches over to hold his hand on the bed, which just makes him feel like an old grandpa about to give away his farm. "I'm sorry I didn't want to go," she sniffs, heavy with self-guilt. "It's just allergies, and I'm good at climbing. I would have been able to help."

Nick wraps both hands over hers, pulling her until she climbs onto the mattress with a little laugh. "It's okay," he tells her. "John handled it alright."

From the way John is standing, leaning towards the door, he probably doesn't want to stick around much longer, but he tries not to look like he's trying to escape when Carmina turns her big eyes on him. She's expecting him to say something to reassure her, but when all he does is stand like a deer in headlights, she loses interest.

"Okay," Kim says, with a damp piece of fabric in hand. "Let me clean you up so you can get some rest."

Nick obliges, mostly because he can't resist, and lets Kim lean him forward so that she can get a clear shot at the gash behind his ear. Carmina lays beside him, fingers wound in his shirt as she watches her mom work. For his part, John lingers close to the door, not running yet even though he has a clear escape route. He watches Nick hiss through Kim's care, going through a lot of effort to keep himself removed. It makes sense. John isn't part of the family, and even if he were, family seems to be close to a four-letter word when it comes to the Seeds. Still — they're edging around the six-month mark and even Nick has to admit, John's pulled enough weight around here to warrant a little more opening up on his part. After all, the bastard did just drag him home.

"Hey," he calls out, drawing John's uncertain attention. "Tomorrow, you and me will go finish the run."

Kim tuts at him like he's a five-year-old. "You don't even know if you're going to be on your feet tomorrow."

"I'm gonna be fine ," he grouses.

"Why don't we wait until you're feeling up to it, and then we can all go together?" Kim asks, as diplomatic as ever. "It's been a while since we could go somewhere as a family."

"Really?" Carmina asks, perking up. "Can we go swimming? Should we bring the fishing poles?"

Kim laughs gently. "We'll make a day out of it, sure."

" Finally ," Carmina sighs, laying her head on Nick's chest.

Nick isn't sure if John knows he's being included in the plans Kim is making or not, but he doesn't try to question it or run from it. He stands there, willingly letting the Ryes make plans around him, and watches with a complicated expression. Even in the face of familial love, though, John doesn't bolt. Nick can give him credit for that.

"Alright, I think that's it," Kim declares at last, once she's cleaned up Nicks cuts and double-checked his ankle to make sure it's only been sprained. "There's nothing left but for you to get some rest." Nick begins to ask a question, but Kim cuts him off with a smile. "You're coherent enough that sleep isn't out of the question. I'll keep an eye on you."

"Thank God. I feel like I just got dragged a mile up-hill."

With a fond shake of her head, Kim pushes herself off the bed, moderately surprised to see John still standing near the door. "I'm sure we can find something for you to do," she tells him.

John nods in response, but he doesn't move until Kim approaches, ushering him out the door. She turns at the doorway and addresses Carmina, who seems to be pretending to be asleep for the moment. "Don't keep him up too long, sweetheart," she says. "He needs to rest."

"Okay, mom," Carmina mumbles, just like a sleeping girl might if she weren't lying. Kim rolls her eyes, leaving the door cracked as she heads out into the hall.

Nick and Carmina lie in bed for a few minutes without talking. Nick starts to drift almost immediately, although he suspects Carmina is about to start talking any time now. Sure enough, after the comfortable silence passes between them, Carmina tugs gently on his shirt to get his attention.

"Does this mean I can talk to John without you getting mad, now?" she asks.

Nick groans quietly, wrapping an arm around her. "He might not like that," he points out, because it's more diplomatic than saying "no" outright.

"Dad..."

He heaves a sigh. "It means... I don't know what it means." He runs his hand through her hair, closing his eyes. "I don't trust him with you, sweetheart," he admits at last. "But you're getting old enough to start trusting your own gut on this kind of thing. Just... listen to the voice that tells you if something's a bad idea. If John does something that raises that voice, you come tell me or your mom."

Carmina breathes quietly for a moment. "Mom said he hurt you," she mumbles.

"Yeah," he replies. "Yeah, he definitely hurt me." He drops his free hand over his chest, right across the raised scar near his heart. "It was a long time ago, though. And I don't think he's gonna do it again."

"But you don't know?"

"Nope." Checking her expression, Nick can't help but chuckle when he sees her frustration plain as day. "Some things are unknowable, Carmina — especially the future. All you can do is trust your instincts. Your mom and I never knew how bad things were gonna get, but when my gut told me to stock the bunker, I listened to it. And when your mom's instincts told her it was time for us to go topside, we listened. So far, so good."

Carmina's irritated frown softens as he talks, but Nick still worries that he's gonna say the wrong thing. He's always worried about it with her. Carmina is smart, but kids see everything in black and white, and he doesn't want to accidentally turn his kid into someone like Hurk. Then again, Hurk is still alive and comfortably set up with weapons and alcohol, so maybe he isn't such a bad guy for Carmina to emulate.

Oh, he definitely needs to take a nap if he's starting to consider Hurk a decent role model. "Daddy's gonna close his eyes for a bit," he says, well after his eyes have already drifted shut.

"Me too," Carmina mumbles. Nick isn't about to push her away, and so thankfully, he gets to fall asleep to the sound of his daughter's gentle breathing, her small fingertips resting against the scar tissue that he's been trying to hide.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #fcnd #new dawn #john seed #nick rye #kim rye #far cry fanfic #my fic

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zephyrbcll · 5 years ago

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The Love Notes, part 1

February 15th

Good morning, baby.

Except maybe it won’t be morning when you read this, I don’t know, but right now it’s morning and you’re beside me suffering a truly terrible (okay, yes, adorable) case of bedhead. I think you’re also drooling, but it’s okay, you’re still cute.

Last night you said love notes would make you swoon and I’m going to be honest, I don’t know how to write a swoon worthy love note. For all I know, I could hand this to you and you could give it back with my spelling mistakes corrected (In my defense, American doesn’t love the letter ‘u’ as much as the UK). I haven’t looked up collections of love notes for tips, but I figure the general point is to write about your affection, right? So I should be able to manage that.

You’re a revelation, you know that?

No of course you don’t. And you wouldn’t believe me if I told you that. Or maybe you would after last night, I don’t know, but I know that I didn’t expect you. I know I wouldn’t be nearly as happy without you. Hell, maybe I wouldn’t be feeling anything at all, I had my head shoved pretty far up my own ass until you walked by.

And you know, I don’t really remember what first caught my attention about you? I think I heard more about you than anything else in the beginning and I just started noticing you and then it was like I couldn’t look away.

I didn’t expect to like you. I didn’t expect to fall in love with you, but I did, and now I’m going to write it down in note after note for you and I’m going to give them all to you on your birthday so you’ll have a reminder for exactly how I feel about you even when I’m not there.

Good morning, baby. I love you.

February 19

It’s really cute sometimes how you wonder what I’m telling my family about you. At least, I’m pretty sure that’s why you asked about what I’m writing, it’s not my fault if you assume I’m writing to my family and not to you.

They adore you, by the way. Or at least my dad does, he thinks you sound charming and like a ‘calming influence’, which is both annoying and accurate. Yes, you keep me calm, we all know that, but does he have to call me out on it?

My grandma apparently sniffed and said that at least you’re not a gypsy, but she’s withholding judgement for now. Considering that he didn’t approve of my dad until I was a toddler, I think this means that she likes you, but doesn’t want to admit it. Besides, her family recipes are staying alive thanks to you, so I’m sure she’s a little grateful.

My point is, you’ve won my entire family over and they’ve never even met you. Maybe they just see how fondly I write about you and they adore you for that, they love you because I love you, or maybe you’re so damn charming that your appeal crosses oceans.

I think they’re glad I found you, and I am, too. You don’t need to ever worry about what I’m writing about you because everything I’ve ever said about you has only made them know how completely and utterly gone I am for you.

Every time I hear from them now, they want me to tell you hello. Maybe one day they can say it themselves.

February 23

I’m pretty sure that your coworkers think that any time I show up, I’m going to drag you off somewhere to have my wicked way with you. I’m not entirely sure if they like me or not.

But I like you, so there we go. I like seeing if I can spot you through the windows first, I like seeing the way you change when you see me come in. Not trying to sound too egotistical here, but it’s like you light up and it’s a good feeling to know that I can do that to you.

Do that for you.

I don’t come in just to feel you up, by the way. The truth is that seeing you lights up my day, too. I can’t think of why it should matter so much, but I like hearing about whatever book you may have picked up on a whim, I like seeing how animated you get if there’s a customer you want to complain about. I like seeing you opinionated and alive with how much you feel. Maybe that’s why you made me more appreciate of what’s around me, it’s because you care so much about everything that it just bleeds out.

You don’t always have to be like that. I know you have bad days and sometimes you’re going to be tired, you’re not going to have something to talk about and that’s okay.

I’m not going to get bored. I’m not going to get offended on the days you don’t light up. Days like that are for pulling you aside and wrapping you up in my arms. They’re for naps and staying in if we can.

They’re for chocolate, too.

Have you gotten tired of getting chocolate every day yet? I doubt it, not with the way you love it. I actually didn’t buy as much as I expected and it was on sale, I want to remind you, so no fussing. Besides, I like being able to surprise you with gifts, even if it’s just small things.

Actually, I like surprising you with small things more, I think.

I hope you like this surprise when you get it. You deserve a novel and god knows I could fill a book with everything I want to say about you, so don’t think these letters are going to stop, not as long as my heart still beats.

February 25

This letter is a cheat.

I haven’t see you today and I don’t see you right now, but dear fucking god, I do when I close my eyes.

I’ve been writing about you when I’m with you or after I see you, I want to explain to you what I like about you around the time it happens so that you know it’s real and you know what I think about you. The reason I’m writing to you now isn’t real, not unless I’ve suddenly become skilled in divination and had a prophecy. In which case, dear god, are you going to make my dick happy.

Cancel that, you already make my dick happy.

If you haven’t guessed you, I dreamed about you tonight. Congratulation. You, Remus John Lupin, are literally the man of my dreams.

You don’t even need to be here in order to get me off, because I woke up hard and aching and so goddamn certain you were real that I was confused when I felt only bed sheets, but I didn’t hesitate to jerk myself off when I realized you weren’t here to touch.

You were gorgeous, you know. And maybe you think it was just a dream, of course I’d enjoy a dream, but I think you’re gorgeous all the time. I know how pink your mouth turns after I kiss you again and again, I know the way you moan when I slide my fingers inside you. I know the way you shudder when I pin you down and how your back arches when you can’t hold on anymore.

There are still some things I don’t know, but I’ll find out one day. We’ll see if you like sex face to face, your legs wrapped around my waist while I keep your arms pinned over your head or if you’d rather have your face pressed into the sheets, muffling your moans while I ram into you from behind. It would be so easy to spank you like that, watch your ass turn red and see it swallow up my cock.

That’s not what I dreamed about, if you were wondering. I still need to find the right chair for your reading room, but that’s where we were and you were beginning, you were being so sweet and saying please while I pulled your hair, your body clamping down around me while I marked up your neck and you were so pretty, baby, you were so good for me.

But you always are, aren’t you? My good boy.

Mine.

February 28

I can’t believe I’ve never noticed you chewing on a pen before, but goddamn. Ever since that dream, it’s like every fucking thing you do turns into a porn situation inside my mind. You bend over and those tight pants pull across your ass and I think about how loud you’d get if I yanked your jeans down your legs and licked you open. You rub at your neck and I think about how I need to put more hickeys on you, how you should be wearing bitemarks and bruises everywhere.

The jut of your hips, the curve of your jaw, across your rib cage and on your thighs. And your neck, of course. I like the idea of them hiding under your clothes, knowing it would be so simple for someone to see one, that all that needs to happen is for your warm, soft sweater to slip to one side and show off the slope where your neck becomes your shoulder to put my teeth marks on display. It would be a blatant sign that you belong to someone and I love it.

Yes, I belong to you, too.

That’s why you’re going home with me tonight. Or I’m going with you, I don’t care, I just want to be around you.

And not for orgasms, I want to wrap around you in bed and listen to the little noises you make when I rub your back while you fall asleep. I want to wake up wrapped around you and make you tea after you finally wake up and frown because it’s morning.

It’s sappy, I know, but I’ve told you since the beginning that I don’t want just sex. I want you. I want special days like holidays and normal days like lazy weekends, I want big moments and small moments and I didn’t expect it, but what I’m saying is I want everything with you.

Maybe that wedding made me sentimental, I don’t think I’d even blame you for calling me a romantic right now. You know something funny? Everyone always talks about how pretty the bride looks, but I don’t really remember her dress, I guess I wasn’t paying attention.

I can close my eyes and picture you perfectly.

March 1

Are you still worried about your nightmares scaring me off, Remus?

Nothing about you scares me, not your dreams and not your monthly mood swings, but sometimes I get scared for you. I get worried when you go on missions sometimes and come back bruised, I don’t like it, but that’s normal, I think.

Worrying about you, but the bruising, too, likely.

And this isn’t some big thing where I think you can’t take care of yourself or I think you’re fragile or incapable or some shit like that. I know you’re strong, I know you’re a survivor, so it has nothing to do with doubting you and everything with just wanting you to be okay.

Admit it, you wouldn’t be happy if I showed up bloody and bruised. You don’t even like when I get Howlers and those don’t hurt.

You seem like you’re sleeping peacefully, but I can’t right now. I don’t know why, but I can’t sleep. It’s okay, it just means I can watch over you for when your dreams turn troubled. I’ll be right here, baby, I’ll fight off anything that comes for you. I’ll keep the demons at bay.

I promise.

March 2

Bore da.

I’ve been practicing, do you like it?

Not that I’ve actually said it out loud to you yet. I don’t know if I’d actually say it right, but I’m trying to learn at least a few Welsh phrases. You’d probably appreciate if I learned something other than good morning, right? Diolch is thanks, I think. Croeso is welcome.

It’s not much, but it’s something. You’re asleep again right now and honestly, you look terrible, but that’s what happens after the moon, so it’s not unexpected, but the point is that you’re asleep and we’re in your flat and I guess technically I am home with you, but one day you’re going to take me home to Wales and I’m going to play tourist and send pictures back home to America.

Home. Funny word, isn’t it? Is Wales home or is your flat home? Can you have more than one home?

America is my childhood home now, I guess. It’s home, but a home I’ve grown out of and left. I don’t know if my flat is home yet, but I think it’s getting there and I think that’s happening because of you.

Or who knows, maybe you’re my home.

March 6

I’m going to take up knitting. I’ve thought about it and I’ve decided it would be a good activity for me. I can knit you new sweaters and fill your bedroom up with them and you’ll always have something new to wear that I made you and I, in return, wouldn’t feel the need to set all your roommate’s shirts on fire to keep you from grabbing one of them by accident.

I can picturing you frowning right now, but stop it. I know you didn’t put it on. You stopped the moment I noticed, and you put on exactly what I wanted you to. You were so goddamn good for me. I’m not really sure if you understand why this matters to me, but it does and having you listen has never stopped being a rush.

Plus, you look fucking good in my Ilvermorny shirt.

Not that you didn’t look good at the dinner party tonight. You looked far more edible than any of the food and it would have been a shame to have you change into something more comfortable if it didn’t mean seeing you naked.

Plus, as already mentioned, I like you in my clothes. And getting into something comfortable means cuddle time. I’m tempted to say that you might be right that I’m the teddy bear between us.

If any of those words up there are hard to read and look like I temporarily forgot how to write, it’s your fault. You keep squirming and you make a terrible writing desk even if it is nice to be able to reach down and pet you while I think or try to tickle you with the end of the quill.

Pens are better, by the way.

And I just got distracted playing with your hair, so now I’ve lost my train of thought. I can’t help it, I like having you sprawled across my lap, but I need to finish this before you get bored.

Thank you for inviting me. Yes, I know, I’m the suitable person to invite and all that, you told me already, but you didn’t have to. Tonight felt like being invited into part of your life I haven’t been in yet and it mattered.

It was nice, your friends are nice, and I’ll go out to a dinner party with you any time.

Quickies in the bathroom are even optional.

March 10

You said not to make a fuss on your birthday and I haven’t. A few bookshelves, nothing fancy. A cupcake instead of a cake, one candle instead of many. The only other thing I have for you is the book I’m giving you with the letters I’ve written over the past few weeks. They’re supposed to be love letters, but they all feel like they fall short of that title.

It’s early and I know you won’t wake up yet, so I have one more chance to write you a love note worth swooning over, so here it goes. Please try not to laugh.

I wasn’t planning on liking you. I didn’t even care too much if I made you feel better than first time we spoke, but the more I talked to you… I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how you did it, but I started caring about something besides my own anger and pain for the first time since I showed up in this country. You got past all my defenses and I never even noticed because I was too busy wanting more of you.

More of your story, more of your anger, more of your quick fucking wit that could cut anyone if you let it. I wanted any and all of it, just as long as it meant I got more of your time, too.

I didn’t really think about what that meant. I didn’t care about why because it was just good to find someone interesting, someone that made all of the buzzing stop until I was calm for the first time in what felt like forever. You shouldn’t have been able to do that, not when you were as upset as you were, but you still did.

Even on your bad days, you’re good for me, Remus, you don’t even need to try.

I was self-destructing and you were the only thing that made me stop. You worried even if you didn’t care and I couldn’t have that, I cleaned up my act and you became my top concern. I wanted to see you happy, I wanted to see you smile. I wanted you to be okay. I still want that, I just want it more now, and maybe a little differently.

I guess what I mean is it’s personal now. I want to be the one that gets to take care of you, not someone else.

When I think about my future, you’re in every day I can imagine.

I don’t believe in perfect people, you have flaws and so do I, but somehow they’ve left us with jagged edges that fit together like pieces of a puzzle and if such a thing is possible, then just maybe you’re perfect for me.

I want so many things with you. I want to finish your reading room and I want to take you on spontaneous adventures that would have thrilled the kid you used to be. I want to buy you books and close them when you fall asleep reading and I want to kiss you good morning even when you fuss about tea.

The fact I even like you when you kick me out of bed shows how whipped I am, doesn’t it?

But I think we both know by now that I more than like you. I think it was true before I ever realized it and I never noticed how I felt because I never thought about it. It was the most natural thing in the world for me to want to give you everything. I won’t try to call it a gift, but I hope you know that you have all of me.

Happy birthday, baby. I love you.

April 18, 1980

I think I may surprise you with lunch today.

Well, I say surprise, but it’s not much of a surprise since I told you, is it? But this day seems to keep dragging on and I want to see you and I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t see you if I want to.

Have you even had breakfast yet? Have you crawled out of bed? Maybe I should just bring lunch to you and curl up behind you for a nap afterwards, it doesn’t really matter to me.

I know this month has been rough on you. You’ve lost more than anyone would want to imagine and no amount of looking on the bright side is going to get rid of that pain yet, but I love you. I’m here even when it hurts and I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going away, I’m just going to come closer to you.

My baby, my good boy, my love, you’re all those and more and there’s no way I could give you up without a fight now. The days are difficult, but what we have is stronger than diamonds.

That was supposed to sound kinda poetic, but that’s probably not my best skill. The point is this. Sometimes life sucks. Sometimes we’re going to be mad at the world and sometimes we’ll be mad at each other, but it doesn’t mean I’m not still yours at the end of the day and you’re not still mine. Life sucks, but we’re going to make it through it together.

And we’re going to start. I’ll even bring you fish and chips with goddamned vinegar if that’s what gets you to smile.

God, your smile kills me. I don’t think I can see you smile without smiling back. I just can’t do it.

Only a few more hours, baby. I’ll see you soon.

April 19, 1980

The last time I wrote you one of these love notes was yesterday, but it feels like the entire world has changed since then.

Not the way I feel about you, of course, but dear god, I think I've found something new to love you for and at this point, I think it's best I just give up and accept the fact that I'm never going to have any clue how fucking deep I really am for you because I never could have pictured this moment. Then again, I never pictured having kids at all, you know?

I swear to you, Remus, I never knew about Katie. I never even suspected. She is one of a kind and I wouldn't have blamed you at all for wanting to walk. It would have broken my heart, but come on, you didn't see this coming, either, did you?

Have you ever pictured it? Waking up one day and hearing the sound of feet running around a house, kids giggling and calling you dad? i don't know if you've ever secretly imagined being a parent, but it's something I always figured I wasn't cut out for. I still might not be, but right now I know that I want to be. Right now, you're asleep next to me and Katie is curled up next to you, she's holding onto your finger and drooling and I'm so in love with this image that my heart fucking hearts.

I know neither of us give a fuck about our ages, no matter what I say about me being an old man. I know you're not a kid, I know you're smarter and more mature than I am, but christ, I have to admit, when I was holding Katie alone, I remember thinking that fuck, you're so young. You just turned twenty (your birthday may or may not have been one of the best days of my life) and and part of my brain thinks that's too young to have a kid, but then again, my parents were old when they had me.

But then I thought about it. Twenty is young to be in a war, isn't it? Twenty is young to lose a parent, but if you compare it to Katie, it's old. So fuck that. It's your choice, it's your life, you're an adult and you decide what you're ready for and what you want.

And right now, looking at the two of you? That's what I want. I want you and her, I want to be able to call you both mine, you're my family. And I love you. I loved you yesterday and I love you now, just like I'm going to love you tomorrow.

I hope you and Katie enjoy your nap, baby. Sleep well and sweet dreams, we're in for a hell of a ride.

May 16, 1980

I've decided you and I need a date night.

Before you start trying to figure things out and schedule, don't. We're going out tomorrow night and I already arranged for someone to keep Katie all night. We don't have to worry about if we get drunk, we don't need to worry about getting home at a certain time or if she gets upset, it's just going to be you and be and we can sleep in the morning after, too. It will be good, I promise.

And if you're wondering what's brought this on, I'll tell you. I don't want you to forget that you're special or loved. We may have a kid, but that doesn't mean letting the spark die.

I don't know when it will happen, but tomorrow night, at some point, I'm going to press against you from behind and make it a point to murmur against your ear that you're my favorite guy in the world, that you're my important person and the goddamn love of my life. You deserve to be made to feel like it night after night, but I'm going to make a special amount of effort tomorrow.

I'm going to make you feel so good. I'm going to make sure you know how much I appreciate you and make sure you know you're still going to have nights all to yourself as well as little moments stolen during Katie's nap time.

Well, if you're not napping, too. It's fucking adorable when you nap together, you know. Might want to think about a nap, actually, because I don't know how much sleep you'll be getting tomorrow.

May 22, 1980

I'm sorry I'm such an asshole.

I love you, I need you to remember that.

I fucked up.

I've tried three times to start this letter and I don't know which part I'm supposed to say first. I know we've already talked about our fight, but I want you to have a written record of things, too. Next time we have a fight, I want you to be able to come back and read this because yes, we're probably going to fight again. Hopefully not about the same subject and hopefully for a long time, but I think it will happen.

We're not perfect, Remus, I know this. I've always known we'd fight, but i didn't think it would be like that. I shouldn't have yelled. I know that, I shouldn't have yelled and I'm sorry. I never want to scare you and I never want to wonder if something is going to happen that will result in you getting hurt. I'm going to work on that, baby, I promise you.

We're not always going to agree and that's okay, we'll figure it out. We'll talk it out and we'll try to figure out the problem and look, I'm not going to lie, our fight hurt. We wouldn't have been fighting so much if it didn't hurt. But that doesn't stop me from loving you. I love you more than our fights and our arguments. We'll work on our problems and we'll get through it, we'll learn how to deal with it together.

I'm an asshole and you're a sarcastic little shit. Maybe it should be a surprise that it took so long for us to fight, but it happened and I'm sorry for upsetting you. I love you and I'll give you a list of reasons why if I need to.

Maybe you should do that. Ask me, Remus. Ask me all the ways you make me fall in love with you.

May 28, 1980

It's weird coming home to an empty house.

It's not really empty. Katie's here and so is Firebolt, but she's asleep and the cat probably is, too. You're not here, and maybe it means I'm spoiled, but you're nice to come home to.

I thought of asking you about moving to Bulgaria once, I don't think I ever told you that. After they invited creatures to immigrate there because of that idiot political candidate, I thought maybe life would easier for you there, but it's not about easy. I know you and I know me, neither of us are really going to leave here with everything going on right now, not forever. Maybe one day we'll live in Wales or France or Spain, but we're needed here right now.

I"m not going to run away from that. Not from the war and not from you. When you come back, I want you to remember that you're stuck with me. No receipts, no returns.

I think Katie misses you, I know I do. I miss your smart mouth, sassing off at me when you're feeling like a brat or spouting off some fact that no one else knows because you're the smartest guy in the room. It's your mouth I noticed first, and for completely innocent reasons, so don't even think I don't like your attitude. And yeah, sometimes I enjoy getting onto you for your attitude, too, but I like to think you enjoy it.

You know what, I'm going to keep going.

I enjoy the way you get under my skin, the way that you make me reaction ways that no one else does and how you get me to come alive. I feel like you make me learn and grown as a person and let me tell you, there's a school full of teachers that tried that for years and you've got them all beat. Yes, including my History teacher. Feel smug.

I love the way your face lights up when you laugh. But a specific laugh. I can picture it in my head, it's carefree and makes you look like you stopped worrying for a minutes and it gives you these little wrinkles while your eyes shine. I can't believe you have me so wrapped around your finger that I"m weak for a laugh, but I knew I was doomed to that months ago. You should come with a warning sigh, Remus Lupin, making stomachs flip with just a sound.

And I love you for opening up to me. I love you for trusting me even when I screw up. I love you for messing up with me and that fact that you and I are learning and improving together because I don't know if I've ever had that with someone else. Even if I have, I know it wouldn't be the same because no one else is you.

Come home safely.

June 19, 1980

I know you and Katie are out doing bonding errands or something like that right now, but you missed the post and we just got a letter about Katie's one year check up. You probably have no idea why I'm writing you a letter about a check up reminder (yes, I wrote it in the calendar on the fridge, it's fine), but it made me think of something. It seems weird that she's already going to be a year old, she wasn't that grown up when she came here, right?

So, I consulted the calendar and you know what I realized? You and I have been parents for two months as of today. Two months doesn't seem like a long time, but that's longer than it feels. Didn't we just have that party to con diapers and baby wipes out of everyone? Aren't we still consulting baby books whenever anything seems odd with her? Okay, maybe you're not, maybe you have the milestones and worries for the next three months memorized, but I like to double check. My point is, when did it get to be two months?

I still end up with this weird feeling sometimes in my chest when I see the two of you curled up asleep. It's not exactly butterflies, more like bone deep contentment. A slow, calming reminder that yes, you are mine. You're my family and I"m going to take care of you. And I’m lucky to have you, you know?

But it seems like I shouldn't be having moments like that still after two months, that I would have adjusted to it. But I hope that I always have them. Not every time, but every so often, after it's been weeks of temper tantrums and job schedules, when life has been busy or hectic or stressful or whatever negative term you want to attach to it. I hope I don't ever have a last time where I look at the pair of you and have everything go quiet because for one single, peaceful moment, I get to appreciate what I want. Because both of you deserve better than to be taken for granted.

I'll try not to be too mushy and sentimental when you get back, but if I kiss you hard as soon as you walk through the door, this letter will let you know where. Here's to two months as parents, baby, and a hell of a lot longer.

#Remus (I'll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams)#remuslxpns

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