#George Herrick

[youlooklikeabeeandilikebees]

series 1 of being human out of context

[idkwheresanti]

✨Do you remember?✨

(I tried)

[grinchwrapsupreme]

One thing Being Human does really well is show the different ugly ways trauma can manifest - anger, sadness, becoming convinced of things that aren't true - and how conflicting traumas can result in actively hostile relationships

[donnydamakkk]

this show should have lasted longer

“the DA is holding a press conference, apparently there’s a big break in the Johnny Weston murder.” 

sepideh moafi as megan byrd in notorious, 1x08

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Letters Part Three

John Mitchell x Reader

Words: 3196

Summary: Mitchell and the reader try to create some normalcy living in the same house for the first time in eighty years. 

Notes: I’m not going to lie, this series is also a place where I get to hate Lucy as much as I want because I despise that woman. 

Part One; Part Two

-

Y/N: Do you know where the towels are?

J.M.: Who is this?

Y/N: Right, sorry, it’s me.

Y./N: I mean it’s Y/N. Annie gave me your number.

J.M.: I didn’t give you my number? I thought I did.

Y/N: No, you must have forgotten before you left. 

J.M.: Right. Sorry. Good that you have it now. 

…

…

Y/N: So towels?

-

Mitchell shot you a text explaining that they were in the cupboard in the bathroom, though he didn’t know why Annie couldn’t have just told you that. He tucked his phone back in his pocket and returned to cleaning out his cleaning bucket, which always felt counterproductive to him, but whatever. 

He could still see you standing in that doorway, so different yet so much the same. Even speaking with that new doctor, Lucy, all he could think about was the fact that you were waiting at the house, worrying about Lizzy Kain and God knows what else and he was in the hospital mopping up shite. 

He still didn’t understand it all. Lizzy being a vengeful, psychotic bitch, he could understand. In his brief acquaintance with Herrick’s reluctant Irish aly, he recognized both her and her disgusting husband’s brutality, even for vampires. How you got mixed up with them…

Mitchell gritted his teeth. 

He knew how, of course. 

Because he let you get away. 

“Right, so George tells me we have a new house guest?” Nina appeared in front of him, hands on her hips, and eyes holding her usual contempt for him. “Were you planning on asking the rest of us?”

“Where did you even come from?” He peered over her shoulder at the long hallway. 

“Don’t avoid my question, Mitchell.”

“It wasn’t my idea, okay?” He snapped. Mitchell ran a hand down his face and sighed. “It was Annie’s.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Sometimes she forgets the complicated nature of having relationships when you’ve lived over a century.”

Nina leaned in and lowered her voice. “So it’s true then? She’s your… your wife?”

Mitchell turned away. 

“Wow,” she scoffed. She shook her head, surprise clear on her features. 

“What?” Mitchell was getting tired of this conversation. 

“Nothing,” Nina shrugged. “I just wouldn’t have thought you the type.”

“I did have a life, you know.” He crossed his arms. “A very long one, actually.”

“Right.” She exhaled deeply. “I forget that sometimes, I guess.” Her tone softened from interrogation to just regular curiosity. He couldn't tell which was more frustrating. “So are you two, still, you know, together?”

“If by that you mean are we still legally married?”

Nina nodded. 

Mitchell let the tension in his shoulders relax. “Yeah. Yeah, we are.” He noticed her lingering surprise and elaborated. “Things like divorce get a little trivial when you-”

“Live as long as you do, I get it.” Nina bit her lip, trying to decide whether or not to keep walking or say something else. She chose the latter. “Listen, I’m not trying to be that flatmate, I just…” She looked up at him without disdain. “After everything that happened, we have to be careful.” 

Mitchell gave her a small smile. “Thanks, Nina.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” She started to back away, raising a brow. “I can’t wait to hear all about you in your younger days from Mrs. Mitchell.” She held up crossed fingers. “I’m hoping for a photograph and a bad haircut.”

Mitchell rolled his eyes but laughed anyway. 

“I’ll see you later,” he said. 

She took a deep breath and pushed through a set of doors into a different hallway. 

After another hour, Mitchell finished work for the day, though a part of him wanted to stay there forever. The hospital was far from a palace, but there he could be something else. He could be invisible. 

You could see him. Better than anyone else, you could see him. 

He walked slower than usual down to his locker. 

“Mitchell!” A woman called after him. Lucy hurried towards him. “Sorry, I know you’re about to head off, but could you do me a favor?” 

He stopped walking and waited, but she just kinda… looked at him. 

“What is it?” He asked, a little more impatient than he intended. 

“Right, sorry.” That look in her eye didn’t go away but he couldn't quite tell what it was. “Could you show me where room 303 is? You would expect it to be next to 302, but no, finding anywhere in this bloody place is impossible.” 

His confusion must have shown on his face because she continued. 

“I just figured they make you clean up all round, so…”

“Um, sure,” he said. “It’s up this way.” 

He couldn't help but feel her watching him as they walked. She looked away every time he glanced at her, but he could still sense her eyes every time he turned his head back. 

“Alright, what?” He said. “Have I got something on my face? Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Lucy sighed. “It’s nothing, I just-” She shook her head. “God this is stupid. I just feel awful about how I was earlier and I wanted to say sorry.”

Mitchell shrugged. “It’s okay. Really.”

“This transfer hasn’t exactly been what I expected and I took it out on the first bloke I saw.” She fixed a loose strand of hair. “So, yeah, I’m sorry.”

“Really, Lucy, it’s fine. I’ve dealt with worse from some of the white coats around here.”

“Can I make it up to you?” She blurted. She cleared her throat. “Buy you a drink or something?”

“Oh, I…” Mitchell grimaced. “You know, I just had a lot come up in my life and-”

“Okay,” she cut him off. “Forget I said anything.”

She walked away before he could say anything else. 

Mitchell stood in the middle of the hall, looking utterly flabbergasted. “Well, that was weird.” He ran his fingers through his hair and headed back toward the locker room. Shift change had already happened, so the place was empty. One of the lights was out, flickering overhead. It set him on edge. He opened his locker. 

And a rose fell out. 

-

You didn’t know how long you’d stood with the fridge door open, staring at the light while the cold air seeped out around you. 

“You…okay?”

The sudden voice made you jump, slamming the fridge door shut. 

Mitchell stood in the doorway to the kitchen. He held out his hands. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Christ, well you did,” you exclaimed. “If I could, I’d have a heart attack.” 

He snickered. “I said I was sorry.”

You turned to him, trying to look angry, but you just couldn’t. Not when he was smiling at you like that. Even with everything that had happened that day, you couldn’t keep yourself from laughing with him.

“Hand me a beer?” He asked. 

You opened the fridge again and grabbed two, popping the top off of your own. You took a long, slow drink. 

Mitchell took a long, slow drink. 

Then the two of you exchanged a long, slow look. 

It was enough to drive both of you mad. 

“How was your day?” Mitchell wondered, unable to keep the awkwardness from his voice. 

“It was fine,” you said tightly. You could still feel the heat of Daisy’s stare and the chill of Ivan’s indifference. “You?”

Mitchell thought of the rose he’d thrown away on the way here. He thought of the only person who would have sent it. 

He shrugged. “Fine.” 

“Great.” You took another drink. 

So did he. “Great.” 

“I found the towels,” you said. 

“That’s good.” The image of you in the shower popped into your head and just made him all the more awkward. “Does Annie’s room suit you okay?”

“Oh yeah, it’ll be fine while I’m here.” You leaned against the counter. “I really appreciate her letting me stay there.”

“She doesn’t really sleep, so,” he shrugged. 

“Still,” you said, “it’s nice of her.”

“Yeah.”

You both finished your beers. 

Was this how it was going to be? Sitting in silence, walking on eggshells, never knowing what to say? It used to be so natural. You could tell him anything and he you. He was your best friend. Now, were you anything more than strangers?

You finally both spoke, words overlapping each other.

“I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner.”

“Do you want another drink?” 

You blinked, processing his question after yours. 

Mitchell looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just, I don’t cook much and Nina and George are working tonight, so I thought…” He stood, picking up the empty bottles and tossing them. “Never mind, it was a stupid idea.”

“No,” you said, following him. “I think that sounds kinda nice.” 

After the day you had with Mr. and Mrs. Crazy, you wouldn’t mind a nice meal. And eighty years left a lot of catching up to do. 

“Really?” Mitchell asked, brows raised in surprise. 

You nodded. “Maybe you can show me around Bristol. I haven’t been in ages.” 

He smiled and your knees felt weak.

“Great.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m just going to take a shower and then we can go?”

“Alright,” you said, turning away to keep from melting entirely. 

So that answered that then. Even after all this time, you could never be strangers. Not really.

-

It was a quiet night. The pub had few other patrons, which let you and Mitchell eat in peace. Though, without the bustle, it left room for the awkward silence that plagued the two of you still. 

“Good chips,” you noted. 

He shrugged. “It isn’t the nicest place, but it’s George and I’s favorite.”

“It reminds me of the place my father used to take me to,” you said. “Do you remember?”

“How could I forget? I’d see you in there when you were just a girl, waiting to help walk him home.” He shook his head. “Drunk prick.” 

It wasn’t a pleasant memory, but for some reason, the frustration in his tone comforted you. 

He still cared. 

“Not all of my nights at that pub were bad,” you said softly, looking at him over the top of your beer. “We first danced there.”

Mitchell chuckled. “Dancing is a generous word for you stomping all over my feet.”

“Maybe I was just giving you a reason to give me more lessons.” You smirked back. 

You looked at each other for a long while, his soft hazel eyes staring into yours and making time stop. For that moment, it felt like you were back in that pub and he was asking you to dance. 

Mitchell looked away first and cleared his throat. “So how long were you with the Kains?” 

You set your stein aside. “I met Lizzy around the turn of the century and she took a liking to me. When she asked me to stay with them, well-” You took a deep breath. “She isn’t exactly the type you say no to.” 

“I remember her being,” he tried to think of the right word, “intense.” 

You snorted, bitterness lacing your tone. “She’s a right crazy bitch.” Taking a long swig of your beer, you shrugged. “But having her for a friend for the better part of ten years had its perked. I mean, no one messed with us. It was like we were untouchable.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling.”

Another uncomfortable tension filled the air. 

Mitchell couldn’t help the frustration burning in his chest. All those years ago, you left him behind. You left him with the power you both feared more than any other. And you left only to stumble into another situation that was just the same. 

You felt his demeanor change and anger bubbled up your throat. 

He had the audacity to judge? After everything he’d abandoned you to be a part of? After everything he’d let Herrick get away with?

You shook your head. 

In his defense, he didn’t know everything.

“Maybe we should be getting back,” you said, keeping your eyes trained at the table. 

Mitchell leaned back in the booth. “I’ll get the check when she gets back.”

“You don’t have to-”

“It’s not a problem.”

Christ, it was worse than a bad first date. 

Daisy’s mocking words from earlier rang through your head. 

“You’ve been apart longer than you’ve been together.” Her blue eyes sparkled wickedly at you. “I’m surprised he even remembers you.”

Was it possible? Had he blocked out your past together while you’d spent every day for nearly a century thinking of his smile? 

“Oh, um-” Mitchell scratched the back of his neck, his awkwardness turning less irritated. “There’s a sweets place on the way back. They’ve got those old-style chocolates you like if you want to stop by.”

“Are you buying those too?” 

A small smile returned to his lips. “I’m a hospital porter, Y/N, and I don’t mop up money.”

“We could always swipe it like we did that bottle from McQuinn’s place,” you snickered. 

“He almost shot us.”

You waved your hand. “He was half blind. The man couldn’t hit the side of a barn.” 

Mitchell stood and held out his arm. “Let’s just go, alright?” 

“Alright, John.” You took his arm and let him lead you out. 

Things may have changed, but he hadn’t forgotten. 

-

Y/N

I would like to see you again. I know it might be complicated because of your father. We can meet by the river at the spot where you hid the whiskey. Meet me there tomorrow night when your family falls asleep. If you don’t want to, I won’t bother you anymore. But I’d really like to hear more about your story. 

Yours,

John

-

Back at the house, Annie greeted you with a cup of tea and a big question.

“Were you two on a date?” 

You nearly choked on the tea. “What? No!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mitchell sputtered. “We went out to the pub, that’s all.”

Annie simply raised a brow and took your hand, leading you into the living room. “Well, I think he has hogged you long enough.” 

Mitchell scoffed arms out at his sides. “We were gone for two hours.” 

“But Y/N was gone all day,” Annie said, confused.

Mitchell turned to you with brows furrowed. 

“Annie, why don’t you show me some of your favorite channels?” You hurriedly picked up the remote and let the sound of the TV take over the growing tension. 

Mitchell narrowed his eyes, but decided not to push it, heading upstairs to take a shower and wash the memories out of his head. Being sentimental now wouldn’t help anyone. Even if your laugh reminded him so much of how it felt to be young. To be human. 

“So.” Annie’s curious, bright eyes found yours. “Where’d you disappear this afternoon if it wasn’t with your husband?” 

Daisy’s piercing eyes and Ivan’s smirk popped into your head.

“I just wandered around,” you shrugged. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been to Bristol. A lot has changed.” 

“I know!” She exclaimed. “Just last week they finished building this awful shopping mall and I don’t think I’ve ever seen an uglier building.”

You laughed, reminding yourself that even though the two of you weren’t exactly amongst the living, she was still so new.

“Sounds awful,” you agreed, though not without a teasing tone.

Annie nudged you with her shoulder. “Just wait til you see it.” Her mouth fell open and her face lit up. “Oh my god, we should have a girls' trip and get you some new clothes!” She clapped her hands excitedly. “It’ll be so fun. And you didn’t come here with much in the way of outfits.”

“What’s wrong with this one?” You looked down at your ratty jeans and jumper. 

“It’s… fine,” she said. “A little too ‘on the run from my crazy vampire coven’ don’t you think?” 

You gasped in mock offense.

“This is my favorite shirt.”

“Maybe we can get you a new one?” She snickered.

“You’re terrible,” you exclaimed, letting the laughter take over. 

She was right, of course.

It was a fucking hideous jumper.

-

Summer 1909 

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

He threw the bottle.

You raised an arm to keep the glass from hitting your face as it shattered against the wall. You ran.

“Get back here ya ungrateful-”

The slamming door cut off your father’s shouts. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

Thunder rumbled over your head but you didn’t care. The sound cleared away the stinging words in your mind, washing everything away like the rain that was sure to follow. You hoped it was a tempest. You hoped lightning struck that house and burned everything to the ground. You hoped it took you up in the wind and carried you far from here. 

You don’t know where you’re going by the time you get there, finding yourself at a crossroads down the lane from your cottage. A wheel with a broken wheel sat abandoned on the side of the road, providing a good specimen to focus your unfiltered anger on. 

Wood splintered and metal creaked with every kick you landed against the vehicle. Screams of frustration mixed with the sound of the destruction. You tore off pieces of the seat with your hands and threw them into the field. 

You attacked the object until you were out of breath and sweat stuck your hair to the back of your neck. 

“That’s an interesting tactic to fix a wheel.” A voice said behind you, making you jump. A boy your age stood with his hands in his pockets, watching you with an amused smirk. “I could help you if you like.”

“I don’t need anyone’s help,” you snapped, tucking your shaking hands under your arms. 

“Is that why you’re attacking a poor, defenseless wagon?” He stepped towards you. “Because I think there might be an underlying issue here.”

“I know you.” You glared. “You’re that Mitchell boy who used to chase me around with frogs. John.”

He laughed. “In my defense, we were six.”

“I hold grudges.”

“Is that what happened with the wagon?” 

You let out a growling yell and threw another piece of broken wood at him, which he aptly dodged. 

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” John held up his hands in surrender. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He raised a brow, ready to make another comment about the splinters you’d kicked in. 

You looked away. 

John took another step towards you, his tone sweet and gentle “Can I walk you home?”

“No,” you answered a little too quickly. You cleared your throat and shook your head. “I don’t want to go home.” 

“Can I walk you somewhere else then?” He smiled. 

You scoffed. “If my father saw you alone with me, he’d shoot you.”

John glanced around, holding out his arms. He shrugged. “I don’t see him anywhere.” He held out his arm. “McQuinn’s’ll serve us so long as we don’t tell him how old we are.”

You smiled, feeling a small weight lift off your shoulders. 

He was rather cute, you supposed. 

“Okay, John.”

[annabelle--cane]

okay we all knew this was coming

annie: lonely

mitchell: slaughter

george: desolation

nina: flesh

tom: hunt

hal: web

alex: buried

rook: dark

(+ bonus to cover our last seven dread powers)

eve: extinction

cutler: beholding

owen: spiral

lucy: stranger

the men with sticks and rope: end. bit of a no brainer here.

daisy: corruption

herrick: uh umm uhhhh. vast, I think, with all his big picture world domination stuff. idk I need SOMEONE on the vast.

[psmith73]

It’s interesting how the theme of corruption, corruption of the soul, so to speak, is so present in Being Human. It’s a running theme from the first season down to the last, and even the purest souls can’t resist it, if the right moment and right circumstances align.

In the first season we have Mitchell of course, who resists Herrick and killing, but eventually gets sucked back by the prospect of the “Greater Good”. We have George who ends the season murdering an unarmed person (yes, a vampire and a mass murderer, but still unarmed) that traumatizes him.

In the second season there’s a whole theme of corruption of the soul by obsessing over revenge that is going on with Kemp and Lucy who is also killing people for the Greater Good. Mitchell is constantly being corrupted by the unwanted political power he now has. There’s a corrupted human cop who wants to use him for lynching the criminals who got away from justice (something that becomes the main theme in Toby’s 2024 show The Red King). There’s that coroner who was previously covering for Herrick and was made to work for Mitchell.

In the third season we have Mitchell saying that George was corrupted by him because George always suspected about the Box Tunnel 20 by chose to look away.

Even the purest of them all Tom was willing to turn his back on humanity to save Eve in s4. Tom who hates vampires more than anything else, was ready to become their lapdog out of love for the baby. Same was with Annie who was also willing to do anything out of motherly love for Eve, but eventually that motherly love was the thing that tipped the scales.

In season 5 we have Rook who is not a bad person at his core, but is doing heinous crimes out of sense of Duty and the Greater Good. We have the whole Devil’s corruption arc. And as we know from the DVD extra scene he was successful in corrupting our trinity, even if just for time being.

It’s a recurring theme for Toby as it seems – given how it is present in The Red King and now in the Bergerac trailer where the character asks the titular hero if he’s a corrupted cop. Speaking of which, it also seems like Toby is not a big fan of the police system. There’s only one good cop in Being Human and she gets killed. And in The Red King the whole system is broken. So, it will be interesting to see how he will deal with it in Bergerac.

[tobluesunday]

Herrick tells mitchell that the reason he decided to make him the offer and make him a vampire rather than just slaughter him with the rest of his men was that he could see in him a terrible man. And whilst its not entirely untrue (mitchell largely proved him right), it's more the opposite. Herrick is inherently egotistical and he sees symbolism in beating mitchell when he's trying to be good. He wants to destroy that 'vein of decency' in mitchell to turn him into a reflection of himself. Part of the satisfaction in that comes from the fact that before mitchell was nothing like him, most blatant in the josie flashback episode. The deal was a test, and mitchell passed by being good enough to trade himself for the lives of his men. Then comes a near century long process of warping this and making mitchell into a mirror of himself. Which is he largely successful at, and why he can't just leave him to go and try to make a human life. And mitchell can't quite let go of herrick either because trying to be nice now doesn't erase his history. mitchell also never really convinced himself that he'd be able to stay clean, and when he inevitably failed to do and struggled to face george and Annie, herrick would still be there

[thenightling]

Let's talk Destiny

Yesterday we got the first teaser trailer for The Sandman Season 2. This included casting announcements for Destiny, Delirium, and "The Prodigal" who most of us Sandman fans know to be Destruction. I recently found out that last night someone in my Sandman Facebook group complained that Destiny does not "look" blind. As a visually impaired woman let me ask... how are blind people supposed to look? Head rolling around for no reason? Black sunglasses and white cane? Some blind people do wear sunglasses. Many use a cane. A few have other disabilities or conditions that make their head roll. Many stereotypes are rooted in some grain of truth. However... I am considered legally blind (technically it's borderline legally blind). I am not actually blind. I just have very poor eyesight. I can't see distance or small print very well. And I cannot drive. I can read, I can distinguish color quite well. I just have very poor eyesight. And I can tell you from my own experience and friends with different eyesight problems that many blind people can "Pass" for sighted. They walk around perfectly "normal." They memorize staircases so they can skip or run up and down the stairs without fear of tripping. It's not like the movies where they're groping around and always cautious. I memorize staircases completely unconsciously. And I can race up and down them in total darkness. In The Sandman comics Destiny is blind or "seeing everything all at once." I do not know if The Sandman Netflix series will depict Destiny as blind or not, but as of right now I have NO complaints about how he is depicted here. If he's blind, he's blind. I do not feel there is anything about the way he looks that a blind person cannot pull off.

Also Adrian Lestar is a damn good actor. I watched him back when he appeared in the original (better) UK Being Human which was a really good show (at least for the first season or two. After Mitchell was killed off the show nose dived). Note, he was in the original pilot as Herrick, but not the finished show. The only actor kept from the pilot was George.

[riddled-forensic]

STILL NOT OVER NINAS DEATH… You’re telling me she got JUMPED by VAMPIRES with BASEBALL BATS outside of a GROCERY STORE ONE WEEK after she gave BIRTH???

I don’t care how wacky the Being Human world is.

The vampires aren’t going to do that IN PUBLIC (to Nina anyhow). Mainly I would say it’s because they have no clear leadership, but that was in Bristol not in Barry. Presumably Cutler and those other vampires are still setting up in between seasons 3 and 4, meaning the Barry vampires either have a Herrick type of thing going on or they just… look after themselves.

I just find it unlikely that news from the Bristol council would spread to the Barry council and Barry’s would just go, “How about we kill the female werewolf?” Now, of course they would want to kill her. That’s like these powerful vampires whole thing, killing others in general, but also those they hate or deem lesser than. I just feel they would want to torture her, or torture George using her (which they ultimately did). The vampires of the series are just much more egotistical than just having an enemy jumped, you know.

The fact that Nina went to the store, by George’s suggestion, 1 week after she gave birth is just… I DONT BELIEVE IT!!! Yes, werewolves have the super duper healing ability. But I still feel like Nina would stay home, even if she is all healed up. She’s still cautious about all of the supernatural things happening + shes a medical professional, she’s going to take extra precaution with herself! ESPECIALLY with how intense birth is.

Also, the store. She’s going to the store??? She needed fresh air, so she went to the STORE. They have a front yard. Go sit out there for a bit girl. Hang with Annie. The casualness of the store. The passiveness of her death is so disrespectful to her character. Nina is anything but passive, she was such a fighter. For her to just die in between seasons, like she slipped in between the keys while season 4 episode 1 was being typed out, slipped in between Mitchell and George’s deaths, it just infuriates me.

Of course, I could be misinterpreting it, mischaracterizing Nina, etc. etc. but I’ve wanted to write about it for a while so here it is.

[kwebtv]

From the Golden Age of Television

Series Premiere

Waterfront - The Skipper's Day - Syndicated - August 21, 1954

Drama

Running Time: 30 minutes

Written by M. Bernard Fox and Jesse L. Lasky Jr.

Produced by M. Bernard Fox

Directed by John Brahm

Stars:

Preston Foster as Captain John Herrick

Lois Moran as May "Mom" Herrick

Kathleen Crowley as Terry Van Buren

Douglas Dick as Carl Herrick

Carl Betz as Dave Herrick

Frank Wilcox as Hank Van Buren

Frieda Inescort as Emily Van Buren

Willie Best as Bill Slocum

George Chandler as Mac Benson

Pinky Tomlin as Tip Hubbard

Jim Hayward as Ward Cowling

Jack Elam as Britt

Lee Van Cleef as Ed

Sanders Clark as Butler

Molly Glessing as Maid

Voltaire Perkins as Ship's Captain

[demongemz]

welcome to london, JOHN MITCHELL! did anyone ever tell you that you look just like AIDEN TURNER? well, no matter, we hear that you are 35 and working as a BARTENDER. we also hear that you currently HAVE your memories from BEING HUMAN and have a tendency to be PASSIONATE as well as IMPULSIVE.

DEMOGRAPHICS

Name: John Mitchell Relatives: William Herrick(Sire); Annie Sawyer(Girlfriend); George Sands (Best Friend/Brother) Occupation: Bartender Birthday: June 29th 1917 Age: 36 Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Moral Alignment: Chaotic Evil Memory Status: Intact

BACKGROUND

John Mitchell, or more commonly known as Mitchell, was a vampire of legend. Born on the 29th of July, 1893 in Ireland, Mitchell was a former WWI soldier. During the War, Mitchell met William Herrick and numerous other vampires. In an act of true bravery, Mitchell gave up his life to become a vampire to save his troops. Before his secondary death, Mitchell lived with his friends, George Sands, Annie Sawyer, and later Nina Pickering, in a flat. He was in the end mercy-killed by George due to numerous reasons correlating to his actions in the Box Tunnel 20 Massacre, and his growing bloodlust.

Infuriated with himself after 'recruiting' fellow hospital employee Lauren into a vampire (as covered in both the pilot episode and Episode 1.1), Mitchell decides to give up the blood and attempts 'Being Human' once more. At several points, he faced a conflict of emotions as he decided whether to 'recruit' people around him to prevent their deaths. After converting the child of a neighbor for this reason, Mitchell becomes convinced that vampirism can be a force for good and agrees to rejoin the vampire clan and its leader Herrick's shadowy plans for their exposure to the world. It is at this time he re-encounters Josie who is terminally ill. When the sinister plans of Herrick are revealed, Mitchell rebels and is mortally wounded, but is later saved by Josie, who allows him to drain her blood to speed up the healing process. After Mitchell has recovered from his injuries, he initiates a showdown with Herrick. Aware that Mitchell will not survive this confrontation, George intervenes; killing Herrick whilst transformed into a werewolf.

In series 2, Mitchell has become the new "king" of the vampire clan in Bristol, hiding evidence of their feedings, rebuilding their human front, and intending to wean them off blood, although his activities are hampered by their blood lust. He recruits his vampire friend Ivan to be a role model for abstention but being unable to completely forsake blood after so long, Mitchell allows him to feed in secret. He thus faces a spiraling series of 'compromises' to his values in taking up responsibility for the other vampires. Beginning a new relationship with a human doctor, Lucy, Mitchell decides to relinquish command to Ivan. However after the deaths of the vampire clan by an explosion at the funeral parlor, and subsequently discovering that they have been betrayed by Lucy, Mitchell realizes that he has wasted his time trying to hide his blood lust and goes on a frenzy with Daisy, newly-widowed from Ivan. After brutally killing the coroner Quinn, Daisy, and Mitchell attack and kill a train carriage full of people in an arbitrary retaliation against humankind. 20 people are murdered, the media calls it the "Box Tunnel 20 Massacre".

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Letters Part Two

John Mitchell x Reader

Words: 2109

Summary: Old and new faces make Mitchell and the reader’s reunion trickier. 

Notes: This part isn’t much, but I do really love this story. Writing for Mitchell is just one of my favorites. (There may or may not be a new smut on the way!)

-

June 14th, 1917

My love,

I know I have not been able to write often from the front. Things are getting strange here. Men are turning up dead, drained of blood. My superiors don’t know what to make of it and the men are getting restless. 

I read your letters to chase away the dark each night, comforting myself with your words and the memory of your touch. I know we will see each other again. I have a feeling it will be sooner than we both think, but I don’t want to get either of our hopes up. 

Please keep writing. You are the sunlight in these times. 

With all my heart, 

John

-

Annie and George’s mouths fell open. 

“Wife?”

You were surprised yourself. It was a title you hadn’t adopted in quite some time. Without thinking, you reached for the ring you still wore around your neck, even after all these years…

“We grew up together,” Mitchell explained. “Y/N lived down the lane from the cottage I grew up in.” He cleared his throat, the subject clearly making him uncomfortable. 

You shifted awkwardly on your heels. 

“We were engaged just before I went off to the war.” 

Annie glanced between the two of you. “But that’s when you met Herrick and-”

“I married him anyway if that’s what you’re wondering,” you said softly. “He didn’t hide what he was from me. Not for long, anyway.”

“Well keeping secrets from you was impossible,” Mitchell remarked. “You knew about the proposal a week before and never said anything.” He gave you a small smile and something passed between you. Something you hadn’t felt in a very long while. 

It faded as quickly as it came, settling back into frigid tension. 

Mitchell frowned. “But that was a long time ago.” 

The room fell into a horrible sort of silence, the kind that made you want to run for the hills. It was a mistake to come here. He had friends. He had a life. He didn’t need you to mess that up. 

“Well, I’ve said my piece,” you said. “I’ll give you time to think about it.”

Mitchell stepped toward you. “Where are you going?”

“I saw a hotel on my way here,” you shrugged. “I’ve got some money, you know.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Annie blurted. Mitchell and George both gave her a pleading look, but she ignored them. “You can stay with us.” 

“I don’t know-” You looked at Mitchell. 

“I don’t think that’s-” Mitchell looked at you. 

“Absolutely not,” George huffed. 

Annie ignored all of you. “You can stay in my room if it’s going to be that big of a problem, but we are not having Mitchell’s wife stay in a crummy hotel room.” 

“Really, I couldn’t-”

Mitchell cut you off with a sigh. “No, Annie’s right.” His eyes lifted to yours and softened. “You should stay.” 

“Okay,” you breathed. The two of you stared at each other for perhaps a touch too long. 

George cleared his throat. “Alright, but if I so much as see a drop of blood around Nina…” He ran a hand down his face. “Just don’t kill anyone. Please?”

“George, she’s like me. She doesn’t-”

“Noted.” You held up a hand to stop Mitchell. You didn’t want to cause any more problems than you already were. “I’ll just go get my things, yeah?” You ducked outside before you broke under his gaze altogether. 

Annie smacked George. 

“What was that for?” He exclaimed. 

“That is no way to treat someone from Mitchell’s past.”

“What, like they’ve all been so warm and fuzzy so far?” He spat back. 

Mitchell just stared at the door, his mind reeling to process everything that had happened. 

You were here. 

It didn’t seem possible. 

You grabbed your duffle bag and backpack from the car you rented- and had to return soon- and started back for the door, walking even slower than you had before. 

Was it too late to run?

Setting the bag down, you reached a hand up to knock again, but Mitchell was there to open the door. 

“Here, let me.” He grabbed your bag before you could protest. Mitchell awkwardly stood in the doorway, holding it open for you while you just… stood there.

“Right.” You kept your gaze in front of you. “Thanks.”

The other two watched you curiously, Annie looking much more enthusiastic than her werewolf counterpart. 

“I’ll show you up,” Annie beamed, waving to you to follow her up the stairs. “Now, there isn’t much in the way of furniture, but there is a very cozy chair and a bed in the corner that I never use, obviously. Oh, this is going to be such fun! We finally outnumber the boys.” 

“Annie,” Mitchell scolded. “Let her settle first before you start planning slumber parties.”

“Ignore him. He’s the resident grouch.” 

“So that hasn’t changed then,” you said, hoping to lighten the tension. It didn’t. 

“Here it is,” Annie said, holding her hands out to the bedroom door like Vanna White. “Hotel Bella Annie is open for business.”

Mitchell pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. 

You gave her a small smile. “Thank you.”

For a second, the three of you remained, you trying not to look at Mitchell, him pretending that he wasn’t looking at you, and Annie very openly watching for your reactions.

“Could you, um-” Mitchell started, motioning for the door. 

“Oh! How rude of me. Yes, I’ll let you get to it then.” Annie gave you two thumbs up before leaving, peaking back from the top of the stairs to try and catch a glimpse.

Mitchell set your bag down and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, she’s uh…” 

“Enthusiastic?” You laughed lightly. “She seems sweet.”

“She is.” He leaned against the frame. “Listen, is there anything I can-”

“I think I’m good for now, thanks,” you interrupted, tucking your hands under your arms. “I’ll be down later, yeah?”

He nodded and looked at the ground. “Right.”

Mitchell closed the door behind him and you looked down at your trembling fingers, the same question running over and over again in your mind. 

What the hell were you doing?

-

Melody,

I just wanted to let you know that I’m safe. I will come back for you. Keep yourself and the others safe until I do. 

Love, 

Y/N

-

You set the pen and paper down on the kitchen table and sighed. It wasn’t much, but hopefully, it would be enough to ease Melody’s mind a little. It did nothing, however, to stop the aching guilt pressing down on your chest. She was just a kid and you left her. You left her with them.

“Writing love letters, huh?” Annie appeared over your shoulder with a mug of tea. “I used to write them to Colin Firth when I was a kid.” She gave you an eager grin. “Any of ‘em for Mitchell?”

You grimaced. 

She held up her hands. “Right. Sorry. Exnay on the usbandhay.” She took the seat across from you, sliding the tea into your hands. “I thought that might make you feel more at home.”

“I appreciate it.” 

Honestly, you’d appreciate it a little more if it had a little whiskey in it, but this would have to do for now. 

You took a sip, falling into an awkward silence while Annie waited, staring at you with fascinated eyes. 

“The boys are going to be gone all day then?” You asked, gulping down a drink. 

“Yup. Work. Glad I don’t have to worry about that anymore, right?” She nudged your arm with a quiet laugh. 

You nodded. 

The quiet returned. 

“Alright, don’t twist my arm, I’ll tell you the whole story,” Annie finally blurted, leaning in like she was telling a secret. 

You glanced around to see if someone else was there. “W-what story?”

“The story of how we all met, silly!” She giggled. “And then you can tell me about Mitchell in the 1800s or whatever time period you guys are from.”

“I don’t think that’s-”

“It all started when I died,” she began dramatically. 

You spent the rest of the morning hearing all of the crazy occurrences that led to and followed Mitchell and George moving in, including George accidentally turning his girlfriend Nina into a werewolf.

“And George has been getting attacked by these vampire creeps- no offense- who just want to see if their hundred-year-old crusty bodies can still cut it- again, no offense. I just wish that I could put my phantom fist through their stupid faces.” She glanced over at you. “No offense.”

“Vampires are dicks,” you laughed. “I would know.” You finished your tea and got up to put the mug in the sink. “I’m just glad that the leader of said dicks is finally out of our lives forever.” 

“Oh, yeah. Herrick was the worst,” she agreed. “Do you know, I almost passed over, and then he pops up at our door and puts a stake in Mitchell’s chest? It was a mess to clean, too.” 

You froze, nearly dropping the ceramic all over the tile. “He tried to kill Mitchell?”

Annie nodded. “Nearly did, too. Good thing I stayed, otherwise we would have had to clean up ashes as well as blood.”

“Christ.” 

After everything that man had done, everything he’d put the two of you through all those years ago. After he stole the one person you loved away… Well, Herrick was lucky he was already dead. 

“Thank you for the tea,” you said, standing up. “But I have some things in town I need to take care of.”

“Do you want some company?” 

You shook your head. “It isn’t really the kind of thing you’d want to be at. I’m seeing an old friend. Vampire stuff.”

“Oh, no thank you. I’ve had enough vampire problems after taking on the funeral parlor.” She materialized into the living room. “Be careful! I’ll put on some more tea for when you get back!”

If you came back. 

Friend was a strong word for your relationship with the new couple in town. 

You waved goodbye and went out the door, finding her already waiting for you. 

“Well if this isn’t the most adorable thing I’ve seen in decades,” Daisy jeered. “Y/N and Mitchell, together again.” 

You whipped around in time for her to pin you to the wall. 

“Did you miss me, dear?” Daisy grinned. Her arm crushed your neck. 

“Let's not cause a scene, darling.” Ivan strolled casually up the walk toward both of you. He eyed you and smiled. “We have a lot to talk about.”

-

Mitchell leaned on his mop, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. He’d been like this for several minutes now. 

“Uh… Mitchell?” George waved a hand in front of his face, having stumbled upon him on his way to fold towels. “Earth to Mitchell.”

The vampire blinked, refocusing on his flatmate’s face. “I’m fine,” he blurted. 

“Right, well, the floor is soaked, mate. I almost broke my neck over here.” He patted Mitchell on the back. “Maybe you should take the day? Go check on…”

“No, I’ll be okay. I just got distracted, that’s all.” 

George opened his mouth, but Mitchell cut him off.

“I said I’m fine.”

George held up his hands, rolled his eyes, and walked away, nearly slipping on his way out. 

Mitchell shook his head to try and clear his thoughts and started to work again. 

Another skidding step slid behind him. “What the fuck-”

“George, I told you I’m-” He turned around and stopped, finding a woman in a white coat. “Sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

“And I thought you were supposed to be doing your job,” she snapped. 

He was taken aback. “I am.” He pointed toward the sign he’d put up to warn people of the wet floors. 

Her dark eyes softened a little. 

“Shit.”

“But go on, what were you saying about my job?” He didn’t say it with malice. He was too tired for that. 

The doctor ran a hand down her face before sticking it out to him. “I’ve had a long day. You are.”

“Mitchell.” He shook it tentatively. “And don’t worry about it.”

She gave him an awkward smile and backed away. “Carry on, then.”

Mitchell followed her. He couldn’t help it. He was intrigued by her. She was the first interesting thing to happen that had nothing to do with his past or the vampires or… you. 

“Wait,” he called out. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

She turned back around, giving him a small smile. “It’s Lucy.”

[annabelle--cane]

"he says I'm a vampire, like the story by byron"

things amnesiac herrick does not remember about vampires:

he is one

he turned mitchell into one

he died and got resurrected by vampire magic

things amnesiac herrick does remember about vampires:

george gordon lord byron wrote a tiny bit of the start of a novel about them in 1816

[jvhnmitchell]

Do you think John Mitchell should have lived? I think he gave himself the short end of the stick. :(

I might have to think and come back to this w a more detailed and less stream of consciousness response as I'm just off work and v tired but I do think that, while there could have been plenty of other outcomes, the most narratively satisfying and the Most Mitchell decision was the one he made in canon. And George being the self fulfilling prophecy of the wolf shaped bullet was done really well imo.

Mitchell spends all of his time in the show in this cycle of self destruction and addiction and hurting others without meaning to, and that guilt complex has to go somewhere, yknow? He knows that if he lives he's going to hurt them again and again, it's all he's ever done. His resolve just isn't strong enough one way or another. He abandons Herrick again and again, and he can't stay clean no matter how much his friends may try to help him. Maybe with time that he didnt see himself as having he could have properly gotten control of it, but thats only speculation. Not to mention, he seems to see it as a hopeless endeavor, and I don't exactly blame him, after he sees the man who got /him/ clean broke under pressure. The only truly moral decision in his eyes (and I won't even get into his catholic framework here) is to remove himself from the equation entirely. And then even in this decision he can't commit and makes George do it.

Not to mention his survivors guilt, however earned. Throughout the series it just gets worse and worse. As his kills mount despite his efforts, he's left to pick up the pieces, to either come clean or hide until he can't anymore and is forced to admit his wrongdoings. After he personally orchestrates Herrick's death, someone he used to consider a friend, you can see it fucks him up even if he doesnt want to admit it. After the bomb it only mounts, and then there's the box tunnel 20. He just sees his death as inevitable, as earned at this point.

While it is an extremely sad moment, I do also believe that had he lived, there would be another box tunnel 20, and another, and another, ("oh Jesus or a school" etc) and I think Mitchell knew that, too.

Tldr: do I think that he maybe sold himself short on his chances of getting better with a lot of time? Yes. But do I also think that he is fulfilling his pattern of self destruction to an extreme degree and and is enacting his belief that any bloodshed on the way to getting him there potentially decades later is not worth whatever theoretical life he could live on the other side of it? Also yes.