#also this isnt mary slander i love mary

[assaultvvyvern]

there’s this (frankly, extremely dumb) tendency to call main girl characters from girly childhood media "mary sues" for trying to be an example or also simply cool for little girls who may be watching. winx may be different in some aspects, but i think this fandom forgets that it's still a kids cartoon who is trying to teach lessons to children. bloom is part of those main characters that have to be a little shallower for who is watching (again, kids!) to identify with her. and still they managed to give her some personality traits and defining character moments: her yelling at riven, using her powers with clear rage not having a second thought, her loving fantasy stories and being a bit artistic, her immediately jumping in to try and save stella. these, in writing, are all good ways to showing-not-telling a character.

if that didn't work for you personally, it doesn't erase the fact that she was made with that role in mind, which is staple for kids' media.

even in the video you linked (which is memey in its nature), how can she be a mary sue if the other characters call her out of her bullshit? one of the main traits of a mary sue is the other cast praising her and loving her no matter what she does, which is not the case for bloom. if you're talking about post-s3, we can agree that's the fault of the writers, no? she's fictional, she doesn’t have personal agency.

who i'm talking about is people who, with the recent rise of "y2k media" nostalgia, want to interact with fandom and fandom spaces and character analysis pretending that watching the show when they were little and never approaching it again until it became cool to do so gives them the right to make passing comments that, on a media analysis standpoint, just aren't true. all because when they were little they thought musa or flora were cooler because they had music and nature powers and "why isnt the narrative focused on them instead?"

and trust me, i'm italian! there isn't a single girl in my life that when was a child didn't watch winx club! we play-pretended all the time! this post was made on a whim because frankly, as someone who studies and is interested in this stuff, i got tired of hearing slander and objectively untrue statements about a character that is written perfectly okay for a kid's cartoon.

casual winx fans who haven't watched the seires since they were six will say shit like "agh i hate bloom she’s such a pick me 😩" bro i'm sorry your only percieved notion of the character is the utter assassination of her personality that was s4 and onward. that's my fucking "i will yell at you and throw fireballs until i burn your ass into a crisp" daughter be fucking respectful

[yelenasdog]

FUCK IT- DEAN THINKING OF EMMA YEARS AFTER SAM KILLS HER BC CANON SUCKS

btw for those of yall who dont remember ms. emma, she was dean’s amazonian daughter LOL

warnings: this is 1.3k words, has many plot inconsistencies ,and is basically an au where the slice girls happened before the whole amy situation. dean is kinda sick and creepy at one point but like bc he wants revenge ig? idk. also ik i have some mutuals who are also just starting spn, so s7 spoilers! LOL enjoy this mess

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He had shaken his head, laughed, and looked up to the indigo sheet that rested above him, seeing how the stars seemed... dull. It was odd, as most nights, it was one of the few things that Dean Winchester would truly rely on always remaining the same.

For all his years as a hunter, through shitty motels, through demons and monsters and angels and apocalypses. The stars always were there when the sun would fall and the moon would arise, twinkling at him as if to say “we’re still here”. In fact, even before he was a hunter, though that time slot is miniscule as the salt grains he so heavily appreciated (and sometimes grew to loath), he would sit outside on the damp grass with his mother.

He would sit, and he would look up and smile at the dark sky, smiling at what Mary had told him about the stars.

“They’re angels.” She had said, leaning down to talk softly in her baby’s ear, playing with his soft brown locks. “All the people who died and went to Heaven.” She had lied, lied right through her teeth. Not that she knew it, of course. She knew the same was true about demons, so why wouldn’t it ring true with the supposed angels she believed in so fiercely?

But Dean still held that memory with him, even when she was gone, despite knowing it wasn’t truthful.

It was after a Djinn hunt, Dean was fifteen, sixteen in four days, matter of fact. His responsibilities had begun to evolve from watching over Sammy while his father was away (which he now knew he would never really stop doing), to assisting on hunts, learning from the elder Winchester for when he inevitably would have to take over the “family business”.

“Right, so a Djinn will poison their victim, putting them in a comatose state- Hey, are you listening to me at all? Did you hear a word I just said?” John had shouted, his son not even flinching as he would when he would be in the same position just a few years prior.

“When in the comatose state, the Djinn puts them in their dream life while they feed on the person, which is where the genie lore came from.” He recited, never looking down from where his head was angled upwards, enthralled by the stars. All the talk of dreams, wishes, he couldn’t help but think what life would be like if he was living his. Maybe get to be on the football team, have his own home, his own room, even.

Having his mom. Not having extensive knowledge on the fact that there really was a reason to be afraid of the dark.

As he got older, his idea of a “dream life” had changed. In a flurry, it seemed like it had somehow changed from having a normal high school experience and his mom being alive (even though that part never changed, just faded towards the back of his mind), to pushing that away and gravitating towards drinking, drugs, and girls. All only to come back to wanting a domestic life, one that he had with Lisa and Ben. He wanted that, badly, and when it was ripped away, he felt like a piece of his heart had been ripped out, too.

So he didn’t talk about it. He left, it hurt, and he didn’t talk about it, because that’s just what Dean Winchester did. He got snappy, moody, and slipped back into the habits and youthful rush of his years prior, much to Sam’s disappointment. Back to the girls, back to the drinking, all of it.

Nothing had stood out to him about the night he’d had with Emma’s mom. She was normal, the drinks were normal, all of it. It was routine, almost.

What was not routine, was having to return the next day, and finding a baby when there was not one there before. Even more out of the norm, was when the baby began to speak as if it were 8 years old. And so as him and Sam began to put together the pieces like some sort of fucked up jigsaw puzzle, it began to dawn on him; He could try again.

Sure, his daughter was a crazy Amazonion, and sure, it wouldn’t be ideal with being on the road and all, but family was family, right? But he knew it wouldn’t be easy, he was prepared to fight the internal battle he knew he would be cursed with. But she was innocent, she hadn’t killed anyone yet.

He pondered it, as he stood, walking over to the fridge. He knew this was an act, he knew that there was barley any hesitance in her heart as she stood, preparing to slain her father. Dean knew this, yet he couldn’t bring himself to kill her, take the easy shot. She was human, and she was his daughter.

Sam, on the other hand, showed no such mercy.

And Dean was grateful to his brother for saving his life, for killing the monster that he didn’t have the guts to gank. They’d killed blood before, no problem. Samuel was a problem, a threat, so he had to go. And Dean supposed that Emma shouldn’t have been different. Blood doesn’t always equal family, he supposed.

That night, he stepped outside of another shitty motel, telling Sam he had gone out for a smoke. And as he looked up at the sky, he tossed back his head and he laughed at the stars, as it no longer seemed like they were comforting him, but rather mocking him. Because Emma wasn’t up there. She wasn’t a sparkling ball of light, shining down on him.

Rather, she was probably scared, cold, and alone down in purgatory, fighting to stay alive. And the worst part was that he put her there. A day on Earth, barely getting a handle on things, and she’s thrown into purgatory by her father, of all people. And he knew that hopefully she would find some other Amazons that had managed to stay alive down there, and that with her strength and all, she would have a chance to survive.

But truthfully? He doubted she would. She was a tough kid, sure. But with the vamps and wendigos and whatever the Hell else was down there, he was having a hard time having faith.

It was only mere weeks later when Sam had let Amy off the hook.

And a part of him was bitter, angry, saddened. So why did Amy get to live? Why did Dean have to watch his blood, his daughter, get slaughtered by Sam, just because she was a monster? Why in God’s name did she have to die, but Sam’s little friend from however many years ago, got to live “just ‘cause”? It wasn’t right, none of it was.

And so he thought it would feel satisfying to drive the knife into her, to see the life leave her eyes.

But it didn’t, and Dean was confused as to why, as simple as it may have seemed. When he turned to see her son standing in the doorway, tears beginning to roll down his face, he understood.  

And when he had made it to purgatory all that time later, through the threats and scares pumping through his mind, he was consumed by thoughts of Emma. He wanted to ask Benny if he’d seen an Amazonian, who could be any age really, with orange hair and warm brown (or fiery red, depending on her mood) eyes. He wanted to grab and interrogate every creature in that damned place, demand them for answers. Though, he was afraid he wouldn’t like said answers.

He would find himself thinking of Emma right up until the moment he died, thinking for a moment that he would finally get to see her again, sort things out. After all, part of her was still human, or moreso, part of her was not a monster.

Even then, Benny was a monster, but he loved him like a brother, he’d do anything and everything for him. Sam, his own brother, was even a monster at one point, and Dean still loved him more than life itself. And when he would think back on this every so often, all he could think of, was why couldn’t he have loved her?