#but I really. fucken wish we could get more movie references or at least more of gene

[the-nameless-wacky-inventor]

idk if I can convey to you how much these images mean to me

[jaylos]

alright i’m watching descendants 2 rn and i’ll document what i’m thinking as i go along (warning: spoilers, duh, also probably ship negativity towards jan/os and possibly ba/)

so yeah uh enjoy my unfiltered thoughts

- ways to be wicked is exactly what and where i thought it would be 

- right in the second scene there’s a tv broadcast with clips from what happened like 30 secs ago

- i’m not sure what to think of evie being anti-magic and like, so rule abiding.. (*edit: hmmmm, i think i kinda get it, but i’ll have to think about it a bit more)

- first appearance of carlos and jane already has me gagging how am i supposed to sit through this

- chad was mean so it’s okay that the movie treats him like a joke

- awkward reference to the first movie (not a lot of there there)

- why is jay not wearing a mask for this duel

- i want lonnie to stab me

- also what the fuck is this sport and what happened to tourney

- chad is a jerk bc every highschool needs one i guess (*edit: wow this movie really hates chad huh)

- oooommmmmyyyygggooooodddddd do jane and carlos seriously get no other arc than dancing around each other the entire time this is torture

- i mean i’m salty that this is how jane has to spend her screen time but i’m still glad she’s there at all

- “how to get out of the friendzone” or “how to make me eat dinner in reverse”

- carlos: “i was usually on the other side of [screaming]” ok wow just fuck me up

- ??why is chad so awkward???

- if carlos asked mal for the truth gummy it must mean he isn’t anti-magic and oh my god i’m so happy about that like

- first appearance and i already love the dynamic between uma, harry and gil movie pls don’t ruin this

- another awkward d1 reference (you can’t take me anywhere)

- “and i was giving you props for fitting in so well” honestly ben shut the fuck up omg

- evie: “she’s my best friend” you haven’t really been acting like it tho ngl

- why does no one recognize mal on the isle. she’s walking around being seen by lots of people and there’s not even whispering a la “is that her?” “why is she back?” “traitor!” do they not give a shit or

- why does she need curlers for straight hair?? what

- in the second book carlos was the only one who knew how to drive but let’s just never mention that again ever amirite

- chillin’ lika a villain has a fun choreography i like it (the song itself is meh but whatever)

- i love gil

- the whole movie could just be a back and forth between mal and uma and i would watch it

- so uhm. was there literally never a talk about bringing more isle kids to auradon like. were they thinking hey, it went really well with the first four but let’s leave the rest to rot on the isle. i mean did evie never once bring up how dizzy should come over too (*edit: ok so ben’s got an excuse for that but it’s hella lame)

- holy shit space between is so gay i can’t

- but that lazy ass clip show tho like couldn’t they think of some more choreo for those couple of seconds instead of reusing old footage

- and right after that it cuts to carlos and jay sleeping next to each other,,, this is mockery

- harry is such a bisexual tbH

- i love that they love lonnie 

- the green screens still look shitty lmao

- it’s going down is already kinda awkward but ben’s part is just embarrassing.. that auto tune omg..

- why is the wand supposed to work under the barrier? bc the barrier was made with it? ..still weird

- dude: “amazeballs” oh jesus fuck

- i liked the girl talk scene (tho i wish they didn’t call it girl talk)

- jay: “give it up for your new team captain” OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH

- ok carlos and jane were.....kind of.....cute......no pls take this heterosexuality away from me........oh no.........

- IS THAT LUMIERE I WANT AN ENTIRE MOVIE JUST ABOUT HIM OH MY GOD

- whaaaat the happ is fuckening at the cotillion??? is that a fucking dream sequence???????

- oooooh uma spelled him right

- ooooooooh it’s gonna be true love’s kiss right

- uma is so pretty tho she’s killing me

- so uma is retreating bc of ben’s lame ass speech lmao k

- evie: “i know a girl who would love to come to auradon” but fuck all the others amirite

- evie: “and there’s a lot of other kids” alright alright i’ll stop complaining haha (for now at least)

- no mal don’t give away your spellbook don’t stop doing magic oh come on fuck the magic ban fuck it fuck it

- another hella awkward song here we go

- carlos’ suit is so ugly

- ok the song wasn’t that bad

- but what the fuck is that kiss the girl cover (during credits) that was terrible. it could have been so great it’s one of my fav disney songs ever and all i get is a bad auto tune whateverthefuck. i feel cheated

yeah so all in all that was kinda underwhelming. i’ll probably make some more posts talking about it but that’s it for now.

meh

[plaidstiel-wormstache]

Sweet Revenge Ch.5

We have reached the end. Thank you to those 3 that have shown this fic love. This is for @whispersandwhiskerburn Much Ado About Nothing Challenge. Refer to the master post for more information. Prompt: Vengeful Spirits, The Veil, Vessel Quote: “If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, do we not revenge?” in bold Word Count: 3356 - this is a long one, but so worth it. bias Warnings: domestic violence, angst, Supernatural References, Canon, Original Characters, my handwriting, trauma, torture, a smidge of fluff. Summary: John follows his new formed hunter’s instincts to his first solo case. But this one hits close to home and has him questioning whether what he’s doing is right, for him, his boys and for Mary’s memory. A/N: Italics below the cut are from Hazel’s POV.

Catch Up here: Chapter 4 “Well… thanks.” John finally said, opening the driver’s side door and sliding into the bucket seat. He started the car and revved, almost missing Bobby’s call of “Call me if you need anything.” before taking off.

Date: 29 May 84

“Fucken. Stop!” Joel’s voice broke with how loud he screamed. “Did you fucken stop?” She questioned, mimicking his tone, “Did you ever stop when I begged you to?” Hazel pinched the hollows of his cheeks, making his teeth seperate and his mouth stay open. “Hazel?” He murmured around her fingers, unbelieving. Hazel smiled, her mouth twisting into a devilish snarl. “He finally gets it! Well done, you slow, ignorant, fuck.” She drawled, throwing the curses he’d once directed at her, back at him. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to…” He pleaded, but his words were mumbled as she kept her hold on his cheeks. She fixed the pliers around his front upper tooth. So much easier than a moler, no idea why they’d do that in movies. And she’d read in a dentist’s office once; there were more nerves in the front teeth than in the back. She yanked down hard, with all her vessel’s might. It popped free, Joel’s head lolled forward, his muted scream stopping as he fainted. “Wake up, Joel. I’m not done with you.” Hazel demanded, slapping him across the face, hard.

“Is it possible to get the adjoining room?” John asked the woman behind the front desk. “You number thirdy-fi?” She asked, her drawl more evident with lack of sleep. “Yeah. Checking out tomorrow?” John watched as the woman slowly looked at the keys in the pigeon holes behind her. He could see 36 quite clearly and wished he’d just grabbed the key instead of ringing the bell. “Okay. Here.” She fished the key off the hook and placed it on the counter. “I’ll just put a note… right…” She was still muttering to herself when John walked out, keen to make sure his boys were all set in the room.

Date: 31 September 84

“Into bed, Dean.” John said as he came out of the bathroom after splashing his face with cold water. “I’m not tired.” Dean said through a yawn. “If you get into bed, now, you can watch a cartoon for ten minutes.” John bargained, snatching up the remote as Dean clambered into the bed next to the sleeping toddler. John snorted a laugh and flicked the TV on and plugged in the channel for kids cartoons. “Scooby Doo,” Dean chanted quietly. John tossed the remote onto the bed, but caught the kids eye. “It goes off at the end of the episode.” John warned, giving his son a stern look. Dean nodded once, his eyes darting back to the screen before his head had fully turned. John sat in the chair at the motel table and took a sip of a beer Dean must’ve set on the table when John was in the office or bathroom. He sighed and put down the bottle, dragging the journal across the table toward him. John glanced back at his son before opening the book, making sure the six-year-old wasn’t watching him. He opened it to a random page…

Date: 6 December 84 

John found it hard to swallow as he flipped to another page.

Joel screamed, loud, piercing, slicing through the silence of the night. Much like she was slicing through his skin. Hazel couldn’t help the smile that peeled her lips back from her teeth. Well, the vessel’s lips and teeth. It was incredible, the thrill and excitement came from making someone feel what she felt. The power she now had over him. It was exhilarating. She dragged the curved cheese knife along the underside of his collarbone. “Why are you doing this to me?” He gargled, the blood still oozing from his gums. He had a faint lisp that Hazel found slightly funny. But that chuckle turned evil as Joel stared on in horror. The ghost was reminded of a time when the rolls were reversed and her laugh cut off. “Really? You have no idead? None?” She asked, now curious. He began to shake his head no, but the slight vessel’s hand caught his jaw between thumb and forefinger, moving his head in the form of a nod. “You didn’t think killing me AND OUR UN. BORN. BABY, would have consequences?” Though the small vessel had needed breaks between, growing weary quickly, she had long nails, and that was an attractive asset to Hazel. Joel had never liked long nails, rather, he’d never let Hazel grow them long. Her grip tightened on his face, the nails, that hadn’t broken, digging into his flesh, close to gouging it. The tall man was reduced to a small, trembling, speechless, mess. At least Hazel assumed it wasn’t because he was too scared to say anything!

Date: 18 February 85

John flipped a few more pages, looking for a date closer to summer. His eyes bugged as they took in one, specific, word. This changed everything. 

Date: 13 April 85 

John’s heart sped up, his mind whirring, the hair at the back of his neck standing up as his skin goose-pimpled. He looked at Dean, eyes firmly glued to the TV. Sammy was asleep in the bed, his bottom lip turned down in a sleepy pout. John’s stomach flipped and spun, bile rising in his throat. Hazel was pregnant when Joel murdered her. If anyone were to touch his kids-- John’s nostrils flared and his teeth were clenched so tight they should’ve shattered. He was on the last page…

Date: 20 April 85

He pushed back from the table and turned off the TV. Dean knew better than to argue when his Dad looked like that. The little Winchester huddled down in the covers, curling closer to Sam, watching as his Dad disappeared through to the adjoining room and checking on his brother when the door slammed.

“You didn’t think taking me away from my mother and friends would come back to bite you? Didn’t think controlling my life would impact you after I was gone? Didn’t think abusing me for two long years would come back to --” Hazel broke into a fit of laughter, finally forcing the words out between hysterical gasps, “Haunt you?” She peeled off into silent shakes, laughter taking over her body. “Oh yes, Joel. Things get a bit easier to see after you’re dead. You never loved me! You used me! And then you killed me...and my baby.” Hazel gained her composure, and straightened her vessel’s white dress. She thought it fitting; after all, Hazel never got to wear her white dress. She stared at him, the tears rolling over his cheeks, the ugly sobs, and the look on his stupid face. He looked like he couldn’t believe Hazel had come back for him. He was infuriating her; she had no choice. Hazel reacted before thinking, lashing out with the knife she was holding. Slicing below that double-chin she never saw while alive. His sobs quickly stopped, the tears ceased, his expression turned from fake surprise to real shock as realization set in. The warm, red, liquid poured down his neck, spurting when he tried to swallow. At that moment, as Hazel was enjoying her small victory, even if it had ended too quickly, she felt a warmth, a vibration, spread through the body she was wearing, like she was being shaken free from the confines of the vessel. She slipped out of the young woman, away from the satisfying scene and appeared in a much duller one. A motel room. Very similar to the last she was summoned to.

“John Winchester!” Hazel greeted, her tone could easily be mistaken for psychotic, but what did she care? She’d gotten it all, exactly what she wanted. “You don’t want to put him behind bars. Do you?” John asked, cutting straight to the point. “You read my diary, then?” Hazel grinned, still happy that she had gotten the time she needed. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why let me read it?” John blurted. Hazel stalked towards him, or floated, he wasn’t sure. She wanted to make him feel her pain, see it, live it, then feel the satisfaction of killing Joel. Even if it was rushed. But the salt ring around him kept her away. “You didn’t answer me before, John, when I asked if you had ever wanted revenge.” She started, assessing the kind of man she was speaking to. The tightening in his jaw and the way his eyes darted to the ceiling and back, gave her the answer she was looking for. She nodded, her smile widening into something truly scary. “Revenge should be savored.” She purred. John ground his teeth together, his eyes darkening with anger, his fingers curling into his hands. She was sick. “Release me from my summons-- Joel wasn’t the only one who saw what was happening to me. Others need to pay too.” Hazel said after a minute’s thought, hoping he’d comply. “I can’t do that.” John answered, his voice hoarse as it slipped past his tight lips. “Then what can you do?” Hazel’s own tone darkened, the lights beginning to flicker when John picked up her book from the table next to him. “No!” She shrieked as he produced a lighter from his pocket. But both turned their attention to the door as it squeaked open. Both frozen until Dean slipped through the crack he’d created. “Dad?” He muttered, looking between John and the ghost across the room. “Dean! No!” John called, forgetting the journal as he reached for his son, dropping the diary outside the protective circle. But it was too late. The spirit had disappeared and Dean had stiffened, finally straightening and staring directly at John. Those green eyes had always reminded him of Mary, but now they didn’t belong to either member of his family. “Why do you get to seek revenge and not me, John Winchester?” John stared at his son, the voice didn’t match the little body, “Dean! Fight her!” John barked. “Why do you get a family--children? A home at the end of the day?” Dean’s childish innocence was gone. John’s toes were at the edge of the salt line as every fibre of his being screamed at him to protect his child, run to him, help him, save him. His instincts were holding him in place. Stepping outside the salt-circle wouldn’t be saving Dean, it could possibly open him to more terror. Hazel in possession of John’s body could do so much more damage. “Dad!” Dean’s scream cut off quickly as Hazel fought for control again. “He’s a fighter, John! You should be proud!” Dean’s little voice was fierce as he stared his hunter father down. “Let him go. Please, Hazel! Don’t hurt him.” John begged, his body and mind torn between shaking him her out of his son and staying within the salt circle. “I wouldn’t hurt him, John. I’m not like Joel.” She snarled from beyond Dean’s body. “I would’ve liked to have thought mine was a boy.” She reminisced. John felt sickened by the idea of Hazel thinking of Dean as her own. “Why are you doing this?” John spat. This seemed to make her laugh. The sweet tickle of a laugh that John looked forward to hearing from his six-year-old now haunted him, made his stomach turn. Dean’s eyebrows crept up his forehead when he calmed down from a giggling fit. “If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh?” Dean’s fragile frame began to spasm, Hazel seemed to emerge, holding on to his shoulders, her control over the small Winchester still evident as Dean stood stock still in front of the ghost. “If you poison us, do we not die?” She let go with one hand for a dramatic wave at herself, proof of the last question. “And if you wrong us,” Hazel’s voice shook the window panes as John lunged over the salt line, sweeping up the diary. “Do we not revenge?” The lightbulb overhead shattered, her grip on Dean’s shoulder evident in the puncture of his pajama top. John scraped the lighter back and forth over his arm, holding the flame under the book, the one thing that tethered her to this plane. “NO!” Hazel screamed, letting go of the small Winchester as she burst into flames. Dean collapsed forwards, unconscious after being used as a vessel. “Dean!” John yelled, he dropped the spine of the book as it continued to burn. Hazel shrunk and sparked, falling to the linoleum lined floor, sinking through it, down to the depths of hell. John took two long strides and dropped to his knees, pulling his eldest into his lap, feeling for a pulse. His whole body froze as he waited for the sensors in his fingers to tell his brain there was a definite thrum of a beat under his fingertips. John let out the breath he’d been holding and readjusted his hold on Dean, peeling back the material of his top to look at the deep scratch she’d left on Dean’s shoulder. John couldn’t help but feel horrible, knowing he should’ve listened to Bobby. He never should’ve dragged his boys along on this case; now Dean would have a scar. Worse, now John would have to explain everything.

“Dad?” Dean’s voice was weak as he tried to sit up in the bed, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. Dean looked at the sore spot that was now covered with a bandage. “Whoa, buddy, take it easy.” John hushed, sitting on the bed in front of him and helping him into a sitting position. “What happened, Dad?” Dean asked, rubbing his eye with his good hand. John sighed heavily and looked at his hands. How did he break this to a six-year-old? Tell him that the world wasn’t as it seemed, that monsters were real.. He hadn’t even told the kid yet about Santa Clause and the tooth fairy. “Who was she?” Dean asked. John closed his eyes and tried to gather each emotion that was trying to escape via his tear ducts. He took a deep breath. “Dean, there’s something I gotta tell you.” John tried, swallowing the words down, they didn’t sit right, but nothing was going to. A tired smile worked it’s way onto his face momentarily when Dean crawled into the space next to John. “I need to tell you about what I do now, for work.” John tried again, watching his son for any signs of understanding. “You work with Uncle Bobby.” Dean nodded, satisfied that he had the right answer. “Kind of, but not in the car yard.” John explained meekly, wishing he could leave it at that. He realized he was prolonging the inevitable with answers that really didn’t explain much. “With the papers and calls and FBI?” Dean asked, looking up into his father’s brown eyes, waiting for a response. “Yeah, kiddo. But there’s more than, uhh…” John scratched at the back of his neck, wishing he had a whiskey or three to help him through this. “Like what?” Dean asked, his green eyes still trained on the hunter. John glanced down and looked away, blinking. It had taken a year for him to get Dean talking, for him to see something other than Mary when he looked at his son’s face. Now he’d be haunted by the memory of Hazel staring from his son’s eyes-- and Dean would be haunted by the knowledge of the truth. He would never get to be a kid...and John Winchester hated himself for that. “Is it about that girl?” Dean asked, curious now. “Dean, that girl--she was a ghost. You know what that is?” John felt like he did the first time he held his son. He had to be so gentle with this little, delicate boy, but there was no happiness in this moment. No Mary. “Like on Scooby Doo?” Dean asked. John shook his head. “No, buddy. That’s just a cartoon. A real ghost is what some people become when they die, when they can’t move on, when they don’t feel like they’ve done what they were meant to.” John paused to make sure Dean was following. “Is Mom a ghost?” The boy asked after a minute of thinking hard. John choked on the simple question. It broke his heart to hear Dean compare what Hazel was to his own Mother. “No, kiddo, Mom’s…” John wasn’t sure, once upon a time he had believed in fate and heaven and God. But how could he now Mary was gone? When he woke up at night screaming, or when he held his kids and knew they would never know their mother? When he finally knew without a doubt that there was more evil than good in the world? “Is Mom in heaven?” Dean asked, breaking through his father’s thoughts. “Yeah, Dean, she’s in heaven.” John pulled his son’s head into his shoulder, giving him a side hug. John wasn’t sure if it was for Dean’s comfort or his own. “Why was that lady a ghost?” Dean broke the silence after what felt like hours. John let go of his son and shuffled on around on the bed, to face Dean more directly. “There’s something I gotta tell you.” John began again. “About work?” Dean remembered back to the track John was on before. “Yeah, but Dean…” John frowned at this next thought, “We can’t tell Sammy, okay?” He’d hoped to keep both his sons away from this truth for a lot longer, or at least a few more years. But if he had to reveal all to Dean, now, the least he could do was keep Sam away from it for as long as possible. “Why?” Dean asked, John smiled at his six-year-old’s simple question. He was reminded that, for as mature as Dean acted, he was still only so young. He had a lot of growing up to do, and it was about to happen now. “Cause, Dean, what I’m going to tell you, Sammy’s too young to understand. Okay?” John waited for his child’s look of contemplation to fade. Dean then nodded. “Promise?” John asked, Dean quickly opened his mouth, but John interrupted. “Before you do, I want you to really think, carefully. I need you to be a big boy, Dean. I need you to look after Sammy, more than ever before. It’ll be your responsibility to keep him safe, cause he won’t know what’s out there. “I need you to promise me, Dean. That you’ll always protect Sammy, no matter what. Never let him outta your sight. Cause he’s your little brother and he’ll always need you.” John watched and waited as Dean’s brain processed the extent of this promise, the weight settling on his far-too-young shoulders. The serious concentration as he looked at his hands, his vibrant, green, eyes darting to and fro. It was a full two minutes before words actually came out of his chewed lips. “I promise, Dad. You can tell me.” Dean answered, “I’m a big boy,; I’ll look after Sammy,” he added, puffing his chest out proudly. John swallowed down the emotion and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. “I know you will, son.” John took a deep breath, looking around the room, hoping there was a manual he’d overlooked that would tell him exactly what to say. Then he caught his reflection in the TV.   “Alright, Dean. You know the monsters on Scooby Doo?” Dean’s brow furrowed as he nodded. “Well, in the real world, there are no men behind those masks…”

“Where am I?” Hazel demanded, looking around the dark room. Struggling against the restraints that held her in place. “What happened?” Her hands and feet were held at angles against an iron slab. “I saw your show upstairs.” Came the sultry hiss from the dark corner, “I was wondering,” The man stepped out of the shadows, “How well you can take what you deliver.” The tall man wheeled the tray on legs closer to her. “Who are you?” Hazel snapped, shaking her restraints again when he picked up a horrific looking implement that had… dried blood? On it. “I’m Alistair.” 

That’s the end... of this part of the story.

If you want more Hazel, jump ahead and check her out in Pure Imagination

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