#Marshal Law Series
The Prosecutor by Nichole Severn – A Review
The Prosecutor is the story of former FBI bomb technician Jonah Watson and deputy district attorney Madison Gray.
I’m so thankful for being a part of the Syndicate! Nichole Severn writes some of the best romantic suspense.
My Rating: 5/5Genre: Romantic SuspensePages: 163 (Kindle)Publisher: Harlequin IntrigueDate of Publication: 01 March 2021
Series: Marshal Law #3
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All Mixed Tekken (editings from my Deviantart )
I really like “Its Over” the most :)
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books to educate yourself about racism
As protests against injustice in legal system, discrimination, police brutality spread through the US, it is necessary to educate yourself about these issues.
Here are just a few book recommendations (there are so much more out there), include both non-fiction and fiction about racism and challenges that black people face throughout their lifetimes.
Thank you so much for more recs. Below are some more amazing book recommendations from the comments:
Dear Martin by Nic Stone
Anger is a Gift by Mark Oshiro
Citizen: An American Lyric by Claudia Rankine
Coming of Age in Mississippi by Anne Moody
Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption by Bryan Stevenson
Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry by Mildred Taylor
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
White Fragility by Robin Diangelo
Stamped From the Beginning by Ibram X. Kendi
All American Boys by Jason Reynolds and Brendan Kiely
Small Great Things by Jodi Picoult
Noughts and Crosses series by Malorie Blackman
Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison
The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander
Between the World and Me by Ta-nehisi Coates
Warriors Don't Cry by Melba Pattillo Beals
The Color of Law: A Forgotten History of How Our Government Segregated by Richard Rothstein
The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness by Michelle Alexander
Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad
Policing the Black Man by Angela Davis
At The Hands of Persons Unknown by Philip Dray
Don’t Call Us Dead by Danez Smith
Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston
The Color Purple by Alice Walker
What Set Me Free by Bryan Banks
Thurgood Marshall: American Revolutionary by Juan Williams
Narrative of the Life of Fredrick Douglas
Beloved by Toni Morrison
The short and Tragic Life of Robert Peace By Jeff Hobbs
The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin
The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot
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Wolfie’s Fic Recs | Dad!Fics
DAD!FICS - Henry and his characters with kids, wanting kids, making kids. That’s it. That’s this list.
Author’s note: My sincere apologies for how crazy long this list has gotten 😂 It’s like the whole fandom is agreeing on one thing: this man needs a baby ASAP. Also, thank you dear @littlefreya for your ever wonderful suggestions!
Single dad Henry is trying to figure out a hair tutorial to please his 4-year old, and it’s the most adorable thing ever. With Flowers In Her Hair by @wanna-do-bad-things
Single dad Henry kinda hittin’ on da nanny? Picture Perfect by @fun-with-jane is a short fic series that’ll get you kinda hot, and kinda bothered (the slow burn..ARGH)
Getting you pregnant is, apparently, a very VERY exact science including honey-wine-&-cookies.. baby. Freyja Dag by @geek-eat-repeat
And don’t forget about timing! THE TIMING! Let’s Make One Of Our Own is the sweaty hot smut you might just crave (am I the only one ovulating right now?), fic by @littlefreya.
Sometimes it’s also just a situation of super sperm, followed by an “oopsie baby”. And when two bullheaded fuckbuddies-to-be-parents are involved, things can get pretty ..engaging: The Rules Of Engagement by @ladyreapermc (multi-chapter).
Or perhaps it’s a situation of Henry and his untameable Hunger, by @littlefreya (yes, it’s breeeeding smut my lassies -- again, forgive me for I am thirsty)
Pregnancy ain’t always sunshine and rainbows. There’s also a lot of change and self-doubt. But that’s nothing some coconut oil and love can’t fix, in Two Months by @littlefreya
There’s a lotttt of first times with having children, which in turn will probably give quite a few heart Flutters for poor protective dad Henry. By @littlefreya
And he’s not just protective, he’s also pretty observant. This Cute Little Drabble makes you wonder when you last bought tampons... by @toomanystoriessolittletime
Newborns? They can be a little fussy. But again, daddy bear is here to fix it! Everything I Ever Wanted by @fuckoffbard
With the brood expanding, it’s getting a little difficult to garner the ever-craved attention of momma bear in This Is War by @cruelfvkingsummer
And when mom isn’t home? Well..the question arises what happened to all the cookies.. Daddy’s day by @angrythingstarlight
Okay, one more by @angrythingstarlight because I couldn’t choose: Baby Talk
And Henry’ll learn soon enough that changing your facial hair should go with a disclaimer. Especially when toddlers are involved. Daddy Who? by @viking-raider
And facial hair also reminds me of this fic; Domestic Life by @writernerd23 (-> “Your face is scratchy, Daddy.” <- CUTE)
The Accidental Family by me. A domestic sad-fluffy short series about memory loss -- After a motorcycle accident, Henry suddenly finds himself living the life he always dreamed of. There’s only one small hitch; he can’t remember how he got here.
And to carry on with the more sad fluff-stuff. How would Henry deal with the less rosy parts of trying to have children - like miscarriage? Negative is a beautiful fic that got me balling my eyes out and you should definitely read it if you’re in the need for some sad, sad fluff. By @oddduckthatgirl
Perhaps things didn’t quite go as planned - whatever the plan was. This sad-to-fluff fic brings you on the rollercoaster of extremely sad to fuzzy warm and happy. Better Off by @toomanystoriessolittletime
More tear-jerkers? 😭Falling Again by @deathonyourtongue follows struggling AU dad!Henry as bills keep piling and the loss of his wife haunts his every waking moment.
Back to the fun stuff - *chants* Rugby dad! Rugby dad! I couldn’t pick just one from the extensive list of rugby dad Henry fics by @hlkwrites and @achaoticaugust - let’s be honest; this should be a genre on its own, so here’s a few:
Henry Cavill, The Rugby Dad Part 2 (smut, daddy kink) I laughed perhaps a tad too loud at the drunk make-out session on the front lawn - here’s some short sexy rugby dad Henry drabbles.
A Rugby Dad’s Guide To Injury Time (smut) I just love smut when it slow, sensual and JUST a tiny bit awkward because you’re on the couch and someone’s leg is in a cast 😜
A Rugby Dad’s Guide To The Off Season (smut) And after the hard toil of keeping a family up and running, it might just be time for a hot (tub) little break
A few short, golden moments in becoming first-time parents with Sy - including skin-to-skin daddy cuddles - what else do you want? Evermore by @hauntedelation is a fluffy fic that gets me all kinds of fuzzy inside.
Talking “short” golden moments..this one includes one short reader, a coffee mug and one teasing oaf-of-a-bear Syverson. (smut) Of Short Girls And High Shelves by my fellow Lisa, also known as @killjoy-assbutt-1112 (hi girl!)
Cankles, have never been so hot a subject to talk about as they are in this lovely fic by @crimsonrae: Cigarettes and Morning Breath
And before you know it, you have a whole brood. Will that stop Sy? Meh..probably not. Fourth Time’s The Charm by @cruelfvkingsummer
And once he HAS a daughter? Woof! Dad Syverson is probably just a LITTLE bit too overprotective. But that’s nothing a daughter-dad weekend can’t fix. Daddy Syverson by @connieisland
Imagine this: one big chunky Captain Syverson and one tiny, tiny babygirl cradled in his arms. Are you melting yet? Siobhán is just the cutest little fic, by @littlefreya
We really want Sy to get a daughter huh? And that’ll be particularly funny when daughter sweet becomes old enough for Prom Night -- we’ll be back with overprotective daddy Sy who is ever stubborn, but also ever sweet. By @littlefreya
Onto the holidays: Santa brings back home a 5-year old’s one true wish in Santa Letter Wish by @lovelycavills
And sometimes? You wish the babe would wait JUST a few days before getting born. Christmas, Baby by @its--fandom--darling
Now. To finish off the Sy vibes; are you perhaps in the need of one heck of a good series? Willow Run is one of the first series I read here on Tumblr and it is SO GOOD. I won’t blab and just let you read ❤️ you won’t regret it. By @deathonyourtongue
Geralt, Destiny, one stubborn girl and the Law of Surprise - it’s a recipe for great adventures and funny grumpy dad!Geralt moments. This wonderful multichap fic A Soldier’s Daughter is written by @viking-raider
I know it’s canonically impossible for a Witcher to get anyone pregnant (due to the Trial of the Grasses). But you know..if ..and when..and maybe..then: A Gentle Soul by @killjoy-assbutt-1112
Some mild roleplaying, rough smutiness and unexpected news make this love-making sesh a wild-wild ride. Heart Of Darkness by @littlefreya
Sleepless is a wonderful multichap fic with Marshall x single!mom reader. @feralrunaway gives you awkward barbecue chat and protective Marshall being ever protective. There’s no masterlist, so here’s (I think) all the chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6
Can you imagine big hunky chunk Marshall being worried when you get all teared up with emotion? Baby Blues gives you allll the cute caring dad!Marshall you need. By @the-soot-sprite
A child born out of love and chaos, is all August craves when he comes back home. Mother Of Murder by @littlefreya (smut)
Bad guys, accidental babies and *BOOM* suddenly it’s not just you who calls August “daddy” ((pun intended here, please don’t hate me 😂)) Surprise, surprise.. by @maya-the-cute-ass-bee
And once such that surprise happens, August knows one thing for sure: he’d burn the whole world to a crisp if anything was to happen to you and his unborn child. In this Imagine by @littlefreya
Sobs, cries and accidentally getting pregnant by spies ((the puns are getting worse, I swear I’ll show myself out in a bit)). On a serious note though: this multi-chapter is an angsty rollercoaster with a tinge of fluff by @coloraturadiva - A Mistake
Dad!Sherlock fics are surprisingly hard to find, but here’s one: Promises by @zodiyack is a bit of a modern interpretation of a Victorian household, and it sure as hell is delightful!
WEW! That was a LONG list - wonderful work dear fic writers! And, as ever; if you have any good recommendations that fit in this list, please add in the comments or reblog! ❤️
( Fan art by me 😊)
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Re the wards and bastards ask.
I might be totally in the wrong here, disregard if I am.
Yet I cannot think of any children in the book series that are fostered away. Ned and Robert were fostered away notably.
But no other mention of noble sons being fostered away. I would have thought there would at least be a mention on that. Sweetrobin is mentioned to have dodged this. Robb was not sent away to be fostered (which I can see why, since he is the heir. Then again I have in my head that even heirs were fostered away for a time in the medieval times).
A ward is a bit different, I'd say because Theon is basically staying at Winterfell to ensure that Balon behaves. He is a hostage, but since he is a noble hostage he is treated with respect and along the other children of the Stark household.
I honestly think that GRRM did not think through this whole system of fosterage, hostages, wards and bastards and to me that is o.k. because in the Middle Ages the amount of fostering was different in different countries and a ward could easily become a hostage and a hostage could become an ally, and a ward could become a prisoner.
Fosterage happened a lot in the Celtic countries up to a point where children would not really know their biological parents and have a far stronger bond with their adoptive parents and their adoptive siblings. In Ireland or Wales or Scotland heirs could be raised elsewhere, but in Wales and Ireland it could be debated of who even is an heir, because inheritance is different there.
But it's far rarer in the other countries in Europe. Wards happen quite a lot though. Orphans who are taken in by either close relatives or even the king. Older teenager boys (over 14) might squire to close allies of their family and girls might be sent to their future in-laws if they were betrothed early. Such wards could easily become hostages if the political situation changed. I think Robert and Ned being fostered to the Eyrie (at a rather late age) is more a situation of getting the last polishing to their education at the hands of a close ally of their father than actual fosterage.
So, if there had been no war, Theon probably would have married a Northern Girl and at some point be allowed to return to Pyke with the full expectation to be an ally and friend rather than an enemy. This is how slow change can happen after all.
If Balon had rebelled again it is even questionable if Theon had been killed as a hostage. The situation usually plays out differently: The rebellion is put down and the heir and hostage replaces the father. He will be even more estranged from him after a rebellion because the father obviously did not care about his life. His guardians however did. And they were the people he stayed with for the last decade or so.
Hostages are rarely actually killed (although you could argue that this is why there are given after all). When Llywelyn ap Iorwerth rebelled against John Lackland, King John (of evil fame) actually killed all the hostages Llywelyn had given him after his last rebellion and people were quite appalled, because they were children. John only spared Llywelyn's eldest son (to force him to yield I guess).
Another famous case is young William Marshall (who became at a later time a really famous knight). He was given as a hostage to King Stephen, his father rebelled again and Stephen wanted to hang him, but did not pull through when he saw that William was just a boy. Guess how good William's relationship to his father was.... (well, we don't really know).
Sansa who is a ward of the crown is a hostage and a prisoner as well and the king being her guardian is a position Joffrey clearly disabuses. In a cold and calculating way Robb is right to not consider her situation or to consider her while he wages war with the Lannisters. He cannot allow himself to be pressured after all, not from his enemy.
So, although children might be called wards, hostages, fosterchildren, the reality is often somewhere in between and can shift easily if politics change. If Jon Arryn had delivered Robert and Ned to Aerys in a political move to secure his own position, the rebellion against Aerys would have been ended very early on. And Robert and Ned would have changed from fostersons to prisoners very easily.
So, I hope you can makes some sense from my ramblings. lol
Thanks for the ask!
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Walter Marshall x Reader
Summary: Walter did not like to waste time on stupid things, and being asked by some young troublemaker to start following an ex-girlfriend around fell under that category. At least, it did, until he found out just who the ex-girlfriend was.
Warnings: Cursing. Slight smut. Not Edited or anything of the sort, so expect little!
Note: This is just something I had saved that I thought I’d post while I finish up the Vampire Henry Series (Unexpectedly Bitten). I plan to post the rest of that fic all at once, most likely this weekend. As always, comments are appreciated :)
What a no-good loser. That’s what Walter thought the second Jimmy Masters walked through the front door of his office on a Saturday evening. He was a good six inches shorter than Walter, much scrawnier, ten years younger at least, and in desperate need of a haircut. He was the kind of kid Walter hated, the kind of kid that had probably seen the inside of a jailcell for a night or two for some stupid, petty crime, yet refused to learn his lesson.
Walter’s eyebrow arched in disinterest and he sat back in his chair, arms crossed as a coworker led the kid inside.
“We think this falls in your area, Marshall.”
Walter had only nodded and told the boy to sit to explain his reason for interrupting the first moment of peace in the day.
“I got a friend who says detectives know how to follow people real well,” Jimmy said, his voice an aggravating tone that Walter already couldn’t stand.
Walter cleared his throat. “Your friend is rather astute.”
The detective blew out a breath, exhausted after speaking with the kid for less than a minute. “Just tell me what you want.” And when Jimmy was done with his pitch, Walter said with a sigh, “You want me to follow a girl that clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you?”
“No, man. She loves me. She does. She’s just confused right now, and I gotta make sure there’s no other guy, ya know? I don’t want her messing around. It’s disrespectful.”
Walter heaved out another long sigh, rubbing at his temples. “But she’s your ex-girlfriend.”
Jimmy shook his head, his shaggy, dusty-blond hair swaying vigorously with the motion. “That’s temporary.”
Snorting, Walter sat up in his chair. “Sure it is. Look, you think maybe she just isn’t interested anymore?”
“Hey, I’m not here for additional commentary. Can you help me or not?”
“From what you’ve said, she’s not breaking any laws, she’s not a danger to herself or others, so I have no reason to—”
“Please, man. Please,” Jimmy said, putting his palms together in lame prayer. Walter was sure this boy hadn’t prayed to anything in his entire life. “I’ll never step foot in here again if you help me out just this once.”
Walter eyed the kid, trying to weight the pros and cons of wasting his time on something so inane, but if it got the little, blond twit to go away, then he figured there were worse things. It had been a slow week as it was. He groaned and grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. “Fine. What’s her name?”
“Walter,” You said, trying to hold back any emotion in your voice as you moved aside to let him pass the threshold into your small apartment. As habit had it, you were much happier to see him than you wished. Walter always had a way of lighting your every nerve on fire from just your bodies being in the same room. You couldn’t help wanting him, missing him, but you hid it well.
As he walked in, his body trailed the outside chill behind, sending a shiver down your spine. Then he pulled the beanie you’d bought him off his head and turned to face you. Though the irritated look on his face was not an uncommon one, you didn’t appreciate it directed at you.
You crossed your arms. “Well?” Walter hung around quite often until you had asked him to quit it, and though he didn’t usually listen to you--putting his own concerns above your wishes--you knew he held a respect for you that made him at least try to keep his distance. If he was stopping by now…well, it could only bring you trouble, but not seeing his face in so long had you more lenient.
“Why is some punk walking into my precinct and asking me to follow you?”
Your eyebrows rose. “What?”
“Don’t ‘what’ me. How many punks could you possibly have hanging around?”
Being a decade older, Walter often made you laugh at his distaste for younger adults. You were the one exception, he’d always said, but all others were ‘punks.’ He feared the day Faye had to deal with boys your age, if she were ever so unlucky. “You met Jimmy?”
His fists kept clenching and unclenching, his shoulders somehow broadened, and the frown on his face made his eyebrows pinch and dip deep. “This idiot is really attached to you, Y/N.”
The more he spoke, the more you realized that ‘irritated’ may have been too sweet a word for what Walter really was. “He just doesn’t like his ego being bruised.”
Walter shrugged off his winter coat and tossed it on the couch as if it was still normal for him to do so, then ran a hand through the dark, messy curls you always loved. “Why the hell are you messing around with a--?”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m not messing around with him anymore.”
“Well, he seems to think it’s temporary.”
Crossing his arms, Walter shook his head like a disappointed parent would at their bratty, misbehaving child; the way you’d seen him look at Faye every time he found out she was spending too much time on social media. “Stay away from this guy, alright?”
“You would tell me to stay away from any guy,” You mumbled to yourself with a snort.
“Do not give me attitude,” He snapped back. “You’re not being safe! If you were, maybe we wouldn’t be having this conversation!"
Instantly, your shoulders stooped and the same old headache began to form. “Not this again, Walt. According to you I’m never safe unless I’m in your line of sight.”
“Yes!” He yelled, stomping your way, stopping just short of ramming his body through yours. “Now if only you could stay in it!”
“You can’t have eyes on me all day every day.”
“The hell I can’t!”
“You promised, Walter.” You let out a small whine. “I told you it was too hard for me to keep seeing you around wherever I went, and you promised you would stop watching me.” You wished it didn’t have to be that way. You wished seeing his face didn’t bring on such a potent punch of pain, but it did. Every single day when you left your apartment, you saw him standing by his car, a coffee cup in hand, unashamedly watching you like some creep. Eventually, you stopped looking in the direction you knew he would be, hoping you may forget he was there at all, but you always felt his eyes on you; such a strong stare, he might as well have been touching you. But you couldn’t take it. Months of your every move being tracked by the man you loved but couldn’t have was taking its toll, and so you begged him to leave you alone, to give you some relief.
“I did stop, and what happened? Barely a month after I made that stupid promise, some dumb, obsessed kid comes asking me to stalk you.”
You leaned back against the wall, growing more exhausted by the minute. “Well, with all the past practice you’ve had watching my every move, I’d say he was rather smart to pick you of all people. Shitty coincidence that he would though, since now I’m getting lectured.”
“I am not lecturing you.”
“Fine, but whatever this is you’re doing here, you’re out of line. My business is not your business anymore. It hasn’t been your business for the last five months.”
“Your little boyfriend came to me,” He said, pointing a finger at his chest, “so yes, it is my bus--”
“It is not!” You bit back. “You could’ve turned him away. You could’ve told him not to follow me around unless he was itching to get a restraining order, but you didn’t, did you? You took this opportunity to check up on me. Again!”
He stepped back, looking as if you had slapped him. His aggressive, guarded barrier of emotions cracked, and you could see the vulnerability he hadn’t shown since your relationship ended.
“Walter” You sighed, “You’re the one who stepped back. You’re the one who said it would be best if we weren’t in a relationship. You said I was a distraction and—”
“I said you’d be at risk, not that you’re a distraction.”
“It doesn’t make a difference.”
“Damn it, Y/N, it does! I only did it because I love you!” He said without hesitation, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You know that!”
You blinked. “No, I did not know that! You seriously broke up with me because you love me? That’s ridiculous.”
“I broke up with you to keep you safe, but I clearly suffered for nothing seeing as you put yourself in unsafe situations even without my association.”
You wanted to believe him, so bad, but people don’t leave behind the ones they love. After all, you loved him and the thought of leaving him made you nauseous, even now. When you were together, he may have appeared in love, but after a year he still hadn’t told you and you knew you’d let yourself get a little too hopeful. If you were honest with yourself, him breaking up with you was not as much of a shock as it should’ve been. But as you looked at him now, you could see that he truly believed you already knew.
“It doesn’t make sense that you would do that,” You said. “People don’t just break up with someone they love.”
“Fuck, Y/N, did I ever seem unhappy with you? Did I ever come across like I didn’t want you every second of every day? My every other thought was of you,” He said loudly, like a rant, and you were having a hard time figuring out who he was mad at. “So don’t try to tell me how I felt, and feel now. I still love you and that’s not going to change, but I can’t have criminals, murderers even, coming after you because they are pissed at me for hunting them down or having a case against them. It would take nothing for the average officer or detective to figure out that you and I were together even if we were hiding it. How hard do you think it would be for some psychopath?”
You hadn’t realized a tear slipped down your cheek until you tasted it at the corner of your lips. It was salty but somehow bitter and left a thick burning path along your skin. You quickly wiped it away. “Why didn’t you tell me this months ago?”
“Because, stubborn as you are, you wouldn’t have listened. You would have told me it didn’t matter.” He fell backwards onto the couch, closing his eyes and letting out a groan. “I try to do the right thing. I try to protect you, thinking everything will be fine as long as no one can link you to me, but I can’t…stay away.” His eyes met yours. “And then you beg me to, and it’s excruciating to obey. When I was able to watch over you, it reminded me that I did the right thing. You were safe and I could constantly be reassured of that.”
You walked over to him, your heart thumping with every step, then sat on your knees in front of him, placing your hand atop his own resting on his thigh. His other hand reached for your face and his fingers softly grazed your cheek before they tucked some hair behind your ear. “Walt—”
“That kid…Jimmy,” Walter interrupted as he began tracing the back of your hand with his thumb. “He thinks you’re in love with him.”
“Of course, Walt. I told you--”
“I know,” He said with a single nod of his head. “I know. Maybe I’ll actually get some sleep now.”
You rested your cheek on the inner side of his knee and said, “You could sleep here.”
“Don’t say things like that.”
“Why not?” You bit your lip nervously. You couldn’t even dare to count how many times you’d had sex during the course of your relationship, but now, asking him not to leave made your pulse thrum in your ears.
He leaned forward and looked down at you. “Because I don’t think I can say no to you.”
“Then why would you bother trying,” You whispered without a second thought and slowly inched up on your knees so you could connect your lips with his.
It lasted only a second or two before he broke the kiss, grabbed you by the arm, and yanked you onto his lap. His grip at the back of your neck pulled your mouth to his as your hand slipped between your bodies and quickly started to undo his belt buckle.
“God, baby,” Walter groaned against your lips when you wrapped your fingers around his thick cock and released it from his jeans. He pulled the ratty, old t-shirt of his over your shoulders and softly settled his hands on your hips. “Damn it.”
“Nothing. I just…missed these,” He said, placing a kiss on one bare breast, then the other. “I missed you, so much.” He placed his lips to the curve of your neck, then met your eyes. “I miss you every fucking day.”
You kissed his forehead, and his arms tightened around you as you lifted your hips and sank down onto him. “I missed you too, Walter,” You said, but the words melted somewhere within the mix of your moans and his groans.
Tags: @agniavateira @forthebrokenheartedthings @summersong69 @starlite13 @mstgsmy @purplelove75 @defffcc @the-soot-sprite @kissthatlifeaway @atomicpaperhairdouniversity @aquariuslavenderhoney @harrysthiccthighss @the-problem-of-leisure @meganwinchester1999
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Tropetember Day 7 - Mutual Pining / Requited/Unrequited Love / Angst with a happy ending
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Rating: Teen and up
TW: Angst (all of the angst), Angst with a happy ending, Witness Protection
AN: Day 7 of @tropetember. Another Hotch story that could be expanded into a small series. Enjoy the angst (and fluff because I CANNOT HELP MYSELF)
You've been looking to spending a quiet day with your boys, until a phone call turns your world upside down.
Find this story on Ao3 here.
Word Count: 1.6k
You were in the middle of pottering around the kitchen putting your groceries away when the phone rang.
Glancing at it, you realise it’s Aaron. Why would he be ringing you right now? Jack’s soccer game wouldn’t have been finished for very long and they usually got a treat before coming to visit you.
You answer with a smile, you were looking forward to spending the day with your boys.
“Hi sweetie, what can I do for you?” You ask.
Aaron says your name and his voice shakes. You instantly stop what you’re doing. Something is wrong. Something really bad is happening. You can tell.
“Scratch.” He takes a shuddering breath. “Scratch was at Jack’s game.”
You gasp and panic floods through you.
“Is he ok? Are you both ok? He didn’t get to either of you did he?”
"No, he didn't."
There's a pause and you feel your heart start to calm. At least they're OK, although you can't figure out what's happening. Unfortunately, your relief at them both being unharmed is immediately destroyed.
"Jack and I are being put into witness protection."
You hear the glass you were holding smash as it connects with the marble floor of the kitchen. It's funny, you feel like a spectator in your own body. The only other thing you're aware of is that you feel like you can't breathe.
Aaron calls your name a few times but you're hyper fixated on one thing he says. 'Jack and I.' Not we. Why hadn't he said we?
"Can I not come too?" Your voice is small. Lost. "If this madman is following Jack, he'll know who I am, Aaron."
You hear him exhale.
"I know. I tried to get the Marshals to offer you the choice of coming with us." You imagine he's scrubbing his hand down his face in frustration. "They said that, since Scratch's focus is the team, and I will no longer be around or know what's happening, you will no longer be at risk." He lets out a scoff.
Tears silently trace down your face. Your world was ending but, no matter how much you wanted to beg and scream and demand they stay, this was already a done deal. Jack's safety was the most important thing in the world and you wouldn't dare risk it for your selfish desires.
"OK." You take a moment to breathe and clear your throat. "Can you do something for me?"
"Tell Jack I love him? Give him a big hug and kiss and tell him that I'll see him when this is over?"
That breaks him, and he quietly sobs out your name.
"You're going to be OK. Both of you. And I'll be here waiting." You take a shaky breath. "Is there anything I can do?"
"I'm putting everything into your name. I don't mind if you move into the apartment or if you rent it out and put everything in storage. Just try to hold onto the keepsakes and Jack's stuff."
"I've got it. Don't worry. It's in good hands."
"The very best." He gives a shaky laugh. "I love you so much. I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault Aaron. God, I love you so much."
You both go quiet, knowing you don't have long until the Marshals disconnect his number.
"I can't ask you to wait for me." He tells you. It makes a sob break through your restraint. "That would be selfish of me. Just know that I love you. And, once this is over, we'll see you again."
"I know, it's OK. I love you."
The line goes dead and, like the glass spread across the floor, you break.
The weeks following are hazy in your memory. You imagine it's not totally dissimilar to a bereavement. After all, you'd discussed seeing each other again, but you both knew that there was a chance it may not happen. Scratch had been evading law enforcement for months with ease. He was watching Jack and no-one even knew. It didn't bode well.
Time continued to pass. Eventually, from around the 6th month mark, people started offering to set you up with friends/relatives/colleagues. You weren't getting any younger they kept saying. You can't miss out on the rest of your life.
It was something you were well aware of. You were only a couple of years younger than Aaron so you were moving past your prime, particularly if you wanted to have kids of your own. You couldn't do it though. It just felt wrong when Aaron was out there alone somewhere with a new name and identity. How could you move on? Instead, you focussed on work, even getting a promotion for your efforts.
You didn't move into the apartment, you couldn't bring yourself to. You and Aaron had been discussing moving, and potentially purchasing a proper house with a garden Jack play soccer in in the future, mere days before everything happened. It was just another thing that didn't feel right. Instead, you moved the important things out to Dave's basement. He had the space and it would be much safer than a storage locker. It also helped sooth his guilt over the fact that none of the team were supposed to have much contact with you to try and keep you off Scratch's hotlist.
Since you didn't need the income from the apartment, you instead approached a charity who worked with women and families escaping domestic violence. You'd offered them the apartment at a reduced rate for short term lets that rolled month by month, with potential to go up to a year. The plan was to give people time to get back on their feet and regain their independence in a safe and secure environment.
You'd had two small families in so far. Both had moved on after securing jobs with good salaries and new full time accommodation. They were both keeping you updated about how they and their kids were doing, and you were happy that you were able to help them even just a little. It was empty at the moment and you were busy organising some basic maintenance and were going to repaint some of the rooms to freshen it up.
You'd just been on the phone with Derek, who'd offered to do the small repair jobs you needed doing, when someone knocked at the door.
Glancing at the clock and seeing it was nearly 9pm, you paused and texted Derek as a safety precaution. It was probably nothing, but better safe than sorry.
The knock sounded again, a little more urgent this time, and you hustled to the door to open it.
When you realised who was on the other side, your knees gave way.
There in front of you, looking almost exactly the same as when he left, was Aaron with Jack peeking out from behind him.
Realising what was happening, he reached out to steady you and you threw yourself into his arms, sobbing as if your life depended on it.
He held you just tightly, rocking from side to side until you pulled back. You lower yourself into a crouch and hold your arms out to Jack, who collides with you with enough force to knock you on your behind.
You both laugh as you land on the floor, a light, carefree combination of sounds that tinkles around the room as you press kisses all over his face. Aaron bobs down to join the hug before helping you both to your feet and guiding you all to your sofa.
"I'm so glad you're both back" you tell them. Jack is snuggled into your lap and you're snuggled into Aaron. Declarations of love pass easily and frequently between the three of you and it fills you with warmth.
You spend the evening catching up with them. Apparently Scratch had been caught at the end of last week but it had taken this long for word to get through to the Marshals and for them to organise transferring them home.
Jack tells you over dinner (pizza, Jack picked) about his school and all the things he's learnt since the last time he saw you. Aaron tells you about his cover job as a law clerk in the backwater town of Nowhere, Iowa. In return, you tell them about how you got promoted at work and what you've done with the apartment in their absence. Aaron's eyes shine with pride as you explain the cause and you know it's one that's close to his heart.
Before you know it, it's almost midnight and Aaron is suggesting they go back to the hotel that they've been set up in for the next few days. You won't allow that though. They'll be lucky if they're allowed to leave your sight ever again.
You all brush your teeth together in the bathroom while joking around before getting sorted and all clambering into your bed together.
Wrapped in Aaron's arms, with Jack tucked up against your side, you finally feel whole for the first time since that dreaded phone call.
"My boys," you gently sigh. "I love you both".
Aaron presses a soft kiss to your forehead, and you let the sound of their breathing calm you as you fall into the deepest nights sleep you've had in forever.
Even better, they're still there when you wake up.
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Keep You Safe
Dusty Trails Series - Part II
| Part 1 |
Pairing: Marshal Din Djarin x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Death, blood, gunfights, violence (not super graphic), a child is threatened with violence, mention of drinking, lots of swearing
Word Count: 3.9k
Tags: Old West!AU, US Marshal!Din, BAMF!Din, but also soft!Din, Din’s job just got a whole lot more complicated in this one, also a heads up that reader is not in this part but will be back in part 3 we just have some setup for larger things <3
A huge thank you to my beta reader @princessbatears and everyone who has comments, liked, and/or reblogged the first part! You all are awesome and really helped give me the push to look into doing a longer format fic (no idea how many parts this will be I'm flying by the seat of my pants lol)
Din glanced to the sky as inched his way towards the edge of the butte. It was some hours yet till dusk, he had time for this. After all, he had been tracking the Stone River Gang for some time now. He could wait out a few hours if that was what it took to not spook ‘em. They had finally come to rest in this barren area in the northeastern butte lands that crossed over between the Wyoming and Colorado Territories.
The buttes, isolated hills with steep sides, had been eroded away by rain and wind. Buff-colored layers of clay and sandstone rich sediments sat high over gently rolling plains and prairie. Isolated giants towering over an apparently empty land.
The ground was hot under his stomach, there had been a bit of a dry spell causing the sand and clay soils to burn hot and crack as the prairie grasses had turned brown. It wasn’t quite so dry that the bushes would be following the dogs around, but it was getting close to it. He’d had to leave Razor back some ways to make sure he wasn’t kicking up a trail that might be noticed by the outlaws.
Once he was at the edge of the overlook, Din pulled out the brass spyglass from its little leather case. Sliding it open to its full length he looked down on the scene before him.
There was a run-down house and barn, looked to have been abandoned until recently. There was a good amount of light-grey smoke coming from the chimney on the house currently, though it looked as if the barn was about ready to fall over from a strong gust of wind.
There was also the remains of an old windmill, probably attached to a well, at the top of which Din spotted the gang’s lookout. It was a good position Din begrudgingly gave them, a wide amount of space around the old homestead was clear and easy enough to keep watch over during the day. Come night though? They would only have the light of the stars just like him. There was to be only a tiny sliver of the moon tonight, so it would be like trying to keep watch through a dark cheesecloth.
At night they would be all in the house or camping outside. There was a good number of them, too many to all squeeze in the house. The old farmhouse looked like a two-room situation at the very most if the marshal was reckoning correctly.
The old corral fence looked to be sturdy enough as he examined it with his spyglass. There were only some nine horses in the corral currently. That left the rest of the gang in play at the moment.
Odd, Din mused. He had figured they would all stay together, not split up.
Hell. They best not have split up because if they had done that a while back he had completely missed that when tracking their movements. It would probably be well nigh impossible to pick up that trail now.
Din took a steadying breath and made himself take a moment to observe a bit more. No reason to be running around half-cocked.
An hour, or so, of waiting rewarded the patient marshal.
A plume of dust announced their arrival as a wagon driven by one man. The remaining gang members were on horseback as they returned to the hideout.
The newly arrived gang members seemed relaxed enough, swinging down from the wagon and greeting their friends in a manner that Din took to mean that they had no idea that he was this close on their trail.
And why would they think that? They had just come off hot from two successful train robberies and taken out a local sheriff’s deputy before disappearing with a whole lot of money. They had been probably laying low, which for the Stone River Gang meant there was probably still a good amount of robbin’ and murderin’ if Din knew these men. He only could hope that they also meant to do a lot of drinking too.
After making his way back to where he had tied Razor up, he ate a quick bit of supper. Forgoing a fire he stuck with the dried meat, some dried fruit, and some crumbly cowboy biscuits he had made the previous night. It wasn’t fine eating, to be sure, but it would keep him fueled and Din hadn’t been picky about such things.
Razor snuffled for some grass he deemed acceptable to be eaten not far away. The silver and black gelding was currently not concerned, so Din took that as a sign that things were safe enough for him to take a little rest. He took off his spurs and settling his hat low on his face as he settled back in the shade of a rocky outcropping. It would be some hours still until the dark would give him the advantage, and he was not about to waste a bit of time when he could be resting.
First things first. Take out the guard on duty.
It would be a bit easier than he figured. The fool had thought it wasn’t necessary to use the windmill and was sitting at the base of it with a lantern that was on the edge of flickering out. Din was reasonably sure he was dozing off from how his head had bent to meet his chest.
Moving slowly, Din pulled out his Bowie knife. There was only one of him and eleven of them, and all things considering the Stone River boys had already murdered a good twenty law-abiding citizens. Din wasn’t about to try bringing them in alive when he would get the same bounty for the whole lot of them dead.
The guard died with barely even a sigh, Din’s gloved hand covering his mouth as his blade cut true. Easing the body to the ground, Din then put the lantern out completely. The light of it would only make him an easier potential target.
It was only then Din rifled through what the dead man had on his person. He bypassed the personal effects in favor of the man’s gun. It was nothing to write home about, just a mass-produced thing that took .45s. He quickly checked the chambers, Din was relieved to find all six full. That brought him from twelve shots to eighteen. Things were looking up for once and only ten more gang members to go.
Leaving the body for the moment, Din started to carefully make his way closer to the house. He just had to pass the wagon and make a distraction of some type. He wasn’t sure what that distraction would be just yet, maybe set a little fire? That would surely hold their attention until it was too late.
In his dark clothing, Din knew he looked like just a slice of the dark landscape sliding by. As he came to the wagon he paused in its shadow to work on a plan.
Flies buzzed around the back end of the wagon even at this late hour. Seeing as he was rather busy at the moment, Din might have ignored that slight oddly but then he was hit with a breeze that carried the smell of rot and iron.
Shit. What had they done, Din wondered, a heavy feeling settled in his stomach. He knew that smell and he only knew it in connection with death and decay.
Glancing to the area where the sleeping rolls were all still occupied, he moved closer to the wagon. He had to see what was under the tarp.
Carefully undoing a corner tie, Din looked into the back of the wagon. It was hard to see, but he was rather sure there was blood on the floorboards, the stain large and darker than the surrounding shadows. And there, in the corner, was something a bit brighter.
Din cautiously reached out to pick up the item. He found it was an ornate lady’s hairpin. It had two twisting tines and the filigree of the silver was expensive-looking to his eyes. It was also splattered with blood.
A crunch of sand and gravel snapped Din from his dread over the small object.
“Liam, the fuck you doing with the wagon? You’re supposed to be keeping watch, you fiddlehead.”
Slipping the hairpin into his jacket pocket, Din casually turned around. Keeping his hat low, he slowly moved to rest his palms on the butts of his revolvers.
“Lantern went out,” he drawled.
“Hey, you’re not-”
The gang member didn’t get to finish before Din had drawn and shot him right in his center mass.
The man fell like a sack of rocks, and not a few seconds later, Din heard the rest of the camp starting to rouse in confusion over the gunshot.
Some of them must have been sleeping with their guns though. Shots rained down around him, little explosions of sand and stones kicking up as a result.
Dropping to the ground, Din took cover under the wagon. From the new vantage, he didn’t even think as he sighted down the barrel of the gun he had taken and shot three of the outlaws.
Damn, he was getting sloppy. Six rounds on three men? Disgraceful.
He tossed away the purloined gun since it was now empty.
“Come on, Djarin,” he muttered to himself before taking out the idiot who was lighting a lantern.
Easy target and just one bullet for that one. Perhaps the other gun just wasn’t as accurate as his own, Din mused.
“Bastard’s under the wagon!” a voice yelled out.
Din rolled in the dust, barely being missed by a hail of bullets that hit the area he had just been.
Hearing someone running behind him, Din popped into a crouch in the shadows and pulled out his revolver. The figure was just barely visible as Din took one and then two shots as he also ducked to the side.
He saw the man’s surprised face in the short momentary flash of light from outlaw’s gun discharging at the same time. He didn’t have to see he had hit at least one shot true when the outlaw crumpled down into the dust.
“Thomas, put that fucking lantern out! That sonofabitch is picking us off like fish in a barrel.”
The marshal bit off a laugh. The outlaw wasn’t wrong. The light of the lantern made it easy enough to shoot from the darkness.
Someone moved to get the lantern, most likely Thomas if Din was to hazard a guess. He shot them easily enough, it was a good shot that one.
The one who had been yelling at Thomas cursed before another shot rang out. The lantern shattered, the light having been shot out.
As darkness surrounded everyone again, Din blinked heavily, trying to get his eyes to adjust.
He was taking too long, his sight still blinded by the image of the bright lantern burned into his sight with every blink.
A heavy weight hit him in the side as one of the outlaws took him to the ground. His hat went flying and he had the breath knocked out of him from landing heavily on the ground.
The man was large and his breath stank of cheap gin. Grappling with each other, Din tried to shoot the man, but the shot went wild. There was some sort of commotion going on nearer the house, but Din was only partly aware of that, instead intent on trying to get unpinned.
Trying to shoot the man again, Din pulled the hammer back on his revolver and struggled to point it towards the outlaw’s head. But the man slammed his hand back against the ground, causing another shot to go wild before sending a fist crashing into Din’s jaw once, twice, three times. The blows were hard enough Din was worried that he might lose a tooth if it kept up.
“Fuckin’ lawman, fuckin’ gonna kill you,” the man on top of him growled, pulling his fist back to hit him again.
Changing tack, Din tucked his chin in and surged forward, sending the crown of his head crashing into his current opponent’s nose.
There was a crack of bone and cartilage, and a wounded cry from the man. Blood instantly spurted from the now broken nose.
The moment the grip on his wrist let up Din took the opportunity to roll them both over, setting the barrel of his gun against the man’s forehead and pulling the trigger.
But there was no moment to rest as someone took a pot shot at him, the horses in the corral sounding distressed at the gunfight. The shot was a shit one though. It had, at best, been twenty feet to his left.
Stumbling to his feet, Din spat out a bit of blood from a cut on the inside of his cheek. His head pounded as he felt the slide of blood down his throat. He didn’t think his nose was broken, it didn’t hurt that much, but it sure was bleeding. Even so, he searched for the shooter. The sound of the quickly retreating beat of a horse’s hooves helped him locate the gang member trying to escape the chaos.
Standing straight, Din felt himself sway slightly even as he tried to mold the two separate images of the rider into one solid target. It was taking too long so he shot at the one on the left, to no effect. He tried again with the same result. Damn it all to hell. He was shooting at the double in his hazy eyesight, not the real one.
Stumbling forward, Din tried to get a bit closer, tripping over a dried branch as his eyesight solidified. The two images of the rider started to merge back into one.
Din took another shot at the rider as they started to gallop away, but the shot went wide when he heard a soft cry from inside the house. He sighted down the gun again to try and get the rider before his brain reminded him that there was only one bullet left and trouble still inside the house.
The soft distressed sound happened again, it sounded like a wounded and scared animal. He saw the gun waver even as he had a clear shot. The sound of a man yelling and the quiet sound stopping made the choice for him.
“Fuck!” Din spat quietly, bringing the gun down to his side in agitation.
Turning on his heel, he stalked towards the house, completely unaware of the intimidating image he cut. His duster snapped and flared out behind him like a cape, a dark shadow that followed him even as he stepped onto the rickety remains of a porch.
Din heard a livid voice from inside the house, “Come back here, you little shit!”
He ripped the front door open.
Two people were inside and the situation became quickly apparent to the marshal. Firstly, there was a large outlaw holding a gun. Secondly, there was a child around the age of three or four.
That wasn’t what he had expected, and the momentary surprise gave the outlaw a moment to press his gun against the kid’s head with a shaky hand.
“Stay back!” he ordered. The gun was pressed harder against the kid’s head, making the child whimper. “Who are you? A fucking lawman?”
“Hey now,” Din said in a calm tone like he was trying to soothe a terrified horse, but he didn’t put his gun down. “Let’s not be hasty, friend. No need to hurt the child, right?”
The man, Din was rather sure it was either James or Matthew Henson — it was hard to tell between the two brothers — didn’t look very assured.
“The hell you know about anything?” The man spat through a blond beard that was stained with tobacco juice near the corners of his mouth, his eyes were wide and searching the room for an escape.
But there was no other way out, the windows had been boarded up years ago and the only way out was through the front door. The door that Din was currently standing in the middle of.
“You don’t want to hurt a kid,” Din stated rather than asked. “I can bring you in warm… Or I can bring you in cold. But if you try’n hurt that kid…”
Din let the unspoken promise of death hang in the air, the summer night thick with heat and dust in the small room. The dull yellow light from the single lantern lengthened the shadows until Din felt like, if he stepped back out into the darkness of the night behind him, he might disappear into a different moment altogether.
The silence was broken by the kid whimpering slightly. Din’s eyes flicked down to look at the round face, curly mousey brown hair, and wide green eyes full of fear.
The outlaw saw the marshal’s attention waver away from him and moved, trying to shoot the lawman.
Two shots rang out in the dilapidated house. Din flinched as splinters of wood exploded from the door jam near his face. That shot had been close, but not close enough.
There was a wet gurgle of surprise as the outlaw let go of the child and his gun to grasp at his throat. Blood quickly coated his hands and down his chest from the wound before he stumbled a few steps and collapsed, giving a last gurgle before his soul departed this mortal plane.
The marshal’s attention was no longer on the dead Stone gang member, instead focusing on the kid. The little one had darted for the bed, squirming underneath like greased lightning.
Din pressed his lips together, he didn’t know much of children, but he knew he needed to have the kid feeling safe — or at least marginally safer — to get him to come out from under there. Sure he could just move the bed, but that seemed… a bit heavy-handed after what the kid had been through. The marshal surely didn’t believe that he belonged to anyone in the gang, they had been dirty and grimy but that didn’t hide that the clothing was quality made.
Perhaps they had kidnapped him? Hoping to collect a reward?
Holstering his now empty revolver, Din used his the kerchief around his neck to wipe up some of the blood from his nose as glanced around the room. He found and scooped up the ratty blanket from the bed. He could use it to cover up the body for a start, the kid didn’t need to be seeing this sort of thing if he could help it. As he took the blanket, Din saw something fall to the cot.
Covering the body first, he looked to see what the object was.
The marshal found himself confronted with the most frivolous and adorable child’s toy he had ever encountered. It was a cream-colored stuffed elephant made of felt. It had a little tail, large floppy ears, and a curling trunk, it also had a blue and yellow sort of blanket sewn securely on its back, little black glass eyes, and two tiny tusks. It was a fancy looking little thing, even dirty as it was currently. But otherwise, it seemed the little elephant had been taken care of, it had to belong to the kid.
Hunkering down to look under the bed, Din eased to lay on the floor and make himself as small as he could when he saw the kid flinch again.
“Hey… kid,” he started awkwardly. “You’re safe, I’m a marshal. A lawman, alright? I think I found your friend?”
Din showed the toy and was pleased to get an immediate positive reaction.
“Charlie!” The kid cried. His little hands made frantic grabbing motions for the stuffed toy before starting to crawl out.
“Come on, trooper,” Din encouraged, and let the kid take the toy from him.
The little one hesitated for just a moment. Seeing as Din made no move to grab at him, the kid snatched the toy away and smashed his face into the soft felt of the toy. He gave a little sigh of relief that sounded like it should have come from a much older and world-weary adult rather than a child. The sound made the marshal frown slightly, he didn’t like it. Kids shouldn’t have to live through shit like this.
He was broken from his reverie when the little one dashed in closer and clung to his middle like he was a lifeline. Din stiffened, unused to handing young ones and this one was now weeping against him.
The child sucked in noisy and wet breathes, tears running down his little distressed face. The best thing Din could think of was to rub the kid’s back and whisper soothing words like he used when Razor got spooked on occasion.
He had been expecting a good amount of chaos tonight, but a kid? He didn’t know the first thing about ‘em. Sure, he knew some in passing, some of his friends had youngsters of their own. But Din was used to acting as the visiting uncle — of no blood relation. Someone who could tell perhaps one or two entertaining stories for the smaller ones and teach the older ones how to shoot. Caring for a child though? That just made him feel out to sea.
How long he held the kid, Din was never quite sure. Eventually, the sobs subsided and the kid went quiet. Din thought the kid had fallen asleep until he was asked a question.
“Where’s momma? Papa?” Green eyes rimmed red looked up at Din expectantly. A chubby hand picked at one of the elephant’s soft ears.
The silver hair comb weighed like lead in his coat pocket. Realization hit him like a charging bull. He was rather sure he knew what had happened in the back of the wagon outside and it surely wasn’t a thought he was about to share with the kid. Not when Din couldn’t confirm anything yet.
“I’m not sure,” Din said, telling himself he wasn’t lying to the kid… not exactly. “But I’m gonna take you into town and see if we can find your family. That sound good with you, little one?”
A plump bottom lip trembled and Din feared there would be another round of tears, but they didn’t come.
Instead, the kid burrowed himself against Din’s chest, a small hand clutching at the kerchief at Din’s neck.
“Yeah,” came the muffled reply, thick with sleep.
“G-good,” Din stuttered slightly, his chest filling with a rush of affection that he wrote off as the last dregs of adrenaline. It mixed harshly with the knowledge that the kid’s parents were, in all likelihood, not still alive.
As the kid fell into an exhausted sleep against his chest, Din Djarin knew at that moment that if the kid had family left, he would do anything to get this kid back home. The kid deserved that from Din.
The marshal ran a dusty gloved hand over the child’s head, frowning at how dirty the curls were.
“Don’t worry bud. I’ll keep you safe. Get you home,” he promised even though the sleeping child didn’t hear it.
Old Western Slang / Sayings / Historical tidbits
Fiddleheaded: inane; lacking good sense; “possessing a head as hollow as a fiddle.” Arose c. 1854
“It was so dry the bushes followed the dogs around.” - a rather crass way of saying that the area is dry and in need of rain
Cowboy biscuits contained only flour, water and salt. They became hard, brittle and very dry after baking for a long time at a low temperature. Although they were sometimes eaten on their own, most used the biscuits to sop up coffee, ate them as mush, or crumbled into stews.
The Hair Pin/Bun Fork I had in mind looked like this one. That example dates from 1860-1890 and there are a whole ton of different designs if you want to look more up more as well.
The stuffed elephant “Charlie” is based off a toy that was created and popularized by Margarete Steiff. Her first versions were created as pincushions but quickly became popular with children of the era as toys. The official founding date of Steiff Manufacture was in Germany 1880 and the felt toy elephants were eventually joined by toy monkeys, donkeys, horses, camels, pigs, mice, dogs, cats, hares and giraffes. Her nephew would go on to invent the teddy bear in 1902, which is a bit too late for Dusty Trails but I had to include the elephant. <3
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Pedro Characters: @mrschiltoncat
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Dusty Trails Tag: @the-feckless-wonder @frannyzooey @lark-cale @gallowsjoker @annathewitch @swimmingsloths @roxypeanut @justanotherblonde23 @phoenixhalliwell
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One and Only || Spencer Reid
Chapter 3: Clubs and Drinks
[series masterlist]: [previous chapter]:
Story Description: Juliette Luciano was fifteen when her parents were arrested by the behavioral analysis unit after being double crossed by someone in the Mafia they were apart of. When Julie, her twin brother Matteo, and best friend/sister-in-law Valeria turn twenty they decide to run, leave the life of crime and change their way of life. After seven years of running they realize they were officially in more danger than anticipated when they received surveillance pictures of themselves. But they weren't the only ones who got some. After the BAU decided it would be safe for them to go into witness protection they decide to send in none other than Doctor Spencer Reid in with Julie for extra protection. These two form a bond that will quickly lead them to get into a relationship. Will the relationship be all love and happiness all will it all go dark like everything else in their lives.
C.W: Drinking, Clubs
*2 months later*
"Julie, I don't really want to go" Spencer argued as I fixed the crooked tie he had around his neck.
"Oh come on it'll be fun," I said.
"Watching half naked women dance around a pole doesn't really sound fun to me,"
"It might not for you but it does to me. Plus you need to live a little,"
I grabbed a wad of dollar bills from my purse placing it in his hand. He looked at me with wide eyes when he saw how much money was in his hand.
"Juliette Luciano, where the hell did you get this from?"
"Mm, I have my ways. Now can you at least act excited, you look like Matteo when me and Val took him to a strip club for our twenty first birthday,"
"How did you convince me into doing this?" He asked as I pulled him downstairs.
"I said I'd let you have sex with me if you came along. I'm keeping my end of the deal so you better be too,"
He groaned as we got into the car. I was bored out of my mind so I made a deal with Spencer so he would come with me to the strip club. He agreed but I could tell he didn't really want to go. The entire car ride he tried making different deals with me so he wouldn't have to go but I denied all of them. When we arrived he looked over at me.
"You're mean for not taking up any of my other deals," he said.
I cupped his chin and pulled him to me. I put my lips against his, he eagerly accepted the kiss before I pulled away, "There, now stop complaining and get out of the car."
We got out of the car walking up to the entrance. We showed the bouncer our ID's before we walked inside, Spencer went to buy us drinks. I told him I needed to quickly use the bathroom but went to the front of the stage. The girls were getting ready for their dances when I called them over.
They looked at me with confusion, "Do you see that guy in the lavender button up with the black tie at the bar?" I said.
They all nodded, "I'll give all of you five hundred plus the money he'll probably throw at you to give him the best night ever."
They all mumbled things to each other before they looked over at me, "Deal. Give us twenty minutes," one of them said.
I smiled and walked away to Spencer. He looked at me as he handed me a glass with whiskey, "Thank you. I'm sorry in advance for what may happen tonight,"
Confusion laced his features, "Okay?"
I gave him an innocent smile. After fifteen minutes I pulled Spencer to one of chairs in the front and sat him down. I pulled the cash out of his back pocket and handed it to him.
"Have fun lover boy," I placed a kiss on his temple before backing away and pulling out my phone.
I had given the main one to the marshals but I had a spare that only a couple people had the number to. I opened the camera starting to take pictures of a bright red Spencer as the five girls started to surround him.
I had already planned on paying the girls good money for this so I found a way to cash out money from my account. Ten grand to be exact plus the three hundred in one dollar bills.
Spencer looked over at me his eyes pleading for me to help him. I blew him a kiss and snapped another picture of him before opening the group-chat his teams technical analyst added me to before we left.
Secret GroupChat:(Spence is not in here)
Julie: *4 attachments*
Julie: Enjoy these pictures of me traumatizing your innocent genius.
Penelope: OH MY GOD!
Penelope: Juliette you're my new favorite person.
Luke: Go Reid!
Matt: Poor Reid, don't traumatize him too much.
JJ: Julie, don't let him drink too much and take care of him please <3
Tara: Juliette, when you two come back we're having a girls night so you can tell us all about this.
David: I'm sending these pictures to Morgan.
Emily: Julie, I love you for this.
I smiled at the texts that were coming in before looking up at Spencer who's head was being pulled back by one of the girls who was gripping his hair. Two of the others girls were kissing his neck, the other giving him a lap dance and the last one pouring tequila into his mouth.
I giggled and took a picture of him. I knew he was going to hate me for this but at least he looked like he was enjoying it. I danced with a couple of guys and girls that were there so they could buy me drinks before looking over at Spencer. He was still bright red and looked like he didn't want to be there but the girls were helping him loosen up a little.
After thirty minutes I noticed he had loosened up and was putting some of the dollar bills into the girls bras. I was surprised but realized he was probably only doing this because he was drunk. I walked off to the bathroom and went into one of the stalls pulling out the cash I had in my purse.
I had planned on paying the girls well because I knew some strippers only do this as their job because they need the money. I had cashed out ten grand from my account along with the three hundred in ones that Spencer was giving the girls. I spilt the money into five different pills, two grand each before putting a rubber around each little stack. I put the money back into my purse before walking out of the bathroom.
I let Spencer enjoy himself for about an hour before I decided to take him back to the house. I pulled him off the chair letting him stand behind me as I opened my purse.
"Thank you for giving him I'd say a pretty good time. I also got a good laugh out of it so here you go, I know it's more than I said. Have a great rest of your night," I said as I handed each of them a small stack of money.
"Thank you so much," one of the girls said as she gave me a hug with tears in her eyes. I smiled and gave the other girls a wave before grabbing Spencers hand and escorting him out of the club.
I helped him sit down in the passengers seat before buckling him in. I made my way to the other side of the car and turned it on before looking over at Spencer.
"So did you have fun?" I asked, grabbing his hand and placing a kiss on the back of it.
He immediately retracted his hand from mine, "I h-have a girlfriend," he said.
"Oh you do?"
He nodded, "Mhm, she wouldn't be happy with me being in your car,"
I smiled, "What's your girlfriends name?"
"J-Juliette Luciano, she veryyy pretty."
I blushed. I knew these were drunk words but I still found them adorable. I did find it pretty strange that he called me his girlfriend since we weren't dating. The only thing we do is sleep in the same bed and kiss all the time but besides that we don't do much that makes us look like a couple.
"I bet she is. How about I take you to your house so you can see her?"
He nodded and looked over at me. He touched my nose before speaking, "You and Julie have the same nose. I-I love her nose, it's beautiful just like the rest of her,"
I laughed, "Okay pretty boy, let's take you home,"
The entire ride Spencer stayed silent unless he wanted to make a comment on how pretty one of the buildings was. When I pulled into the driveway I helped him out of the car and into the house. We carefully walked upstairs to his room. I was helping him unbutton his shirt so he could get into comfy clothes when he swatted my hands away.
"No, Julie is going to get mad if you take my clothes off,"
I watched him take his own clothes off, leaving a trail of them until he reached his bed and flopped down on it. He took everything except his boxers off, I smiled and picked up his clothes tossing them into his hamper before getting a pair of plaid pajama pants and a white cotton shirt and walked over to him.
I put a hand on his shoulder and leaned down placing a kiss on the back of his neck, "Put these clothes on," I said.
He groaned and sat up taking the clothes from my hands. I helped him put on his shirt before he pulled on his pants. He sat back down and grabbed me pulling me into a hug, his face snuggled between my breasts. I smiled my hands lightly scratching his scalp.
"What happened to you having a girlfriend," I teased.
"She'll be okay with this. Just don't tell her," he mumbled against me.
I laughed and reached for my phone inside of my purse that was on his bed. I took a picture of us to show him tomorrow morning. If there was one thing I learned about Spencer it was that he was a boob guy. Whenever we'd cuddle one of his hands always ends up cupping one of my boobs and when he's upset when he news that his mom isn't doing too well he puts his head underneath my shirt and falls asleep with his face buried between my breasts.
"Hey pretty boy, why don't you go to sleep before your girlfriend finds you with your head between my boobs," I said.
"No, you smell like flowers. Julie smells like that too and both of you have the same size boobs," He said as he looked up at me.
"Really? You remember that?"
"I remember everything about her, she's perfect. She's going to be mine forever and ever,"
I froze a little, "Really? That's um a-amazing, now actually go to sleep, you're drunk."
"Mm, fine. Goodnight,"
"Goodnight Spence," I said as he laid down.
I placed a kiss on the top of his head before leaving to go to my room. I took off my dress and pulled on an oversized AC/DC t-shirt before heading to my bathroom. I wiped off the makeup on my face and noticed it was four in the morning. I sighed and made a last minute decision to walk back to Spencers room and got in next to him. He was quietly snoring so I knew he was sleeping. I used the back of my hand to caress his cheek.
"I know you're drunk and the things you said are just drunk words but if you actually want me to be yours forever and ever all you have to do is ask," I whispered before kissing his nose and snuggling myself under his chin and drifted off to sleep.
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Happy 75th Birthday actor Brian Denis Cox born June 1st 1946 in Dundee.
It’s often said, oor wee country Scotland punches above it’s weight and it is certainly true with the number of quality actors we have, Brian Cox is certainly up their with them.
The youngest of five children, he was born on 1st June 1946 to an Irish and Scottish descent family in Dundee. His father, a mill worker, died when Brian was eight, after which his mother suffered a series of nervous breakdowns and was eventually hospitalised.
Brought up by his eldest sister and an aunt, Brian was drawn to acting after he got a job helping backstage at Dundee Rep. He worked there for two years, then trained at the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art. After a spell in regional repertory, he made his London stage debut as Orlando in As You Like It in June 1967.
Cox first came to attention in the early 1970s with performances in numerous television shows and films including the role of James Hepburn, 4th Earl of Bothwell in a TV movie Bothwell, the shows Sutherlands Law, The Master of Ballantrae, in the 80’s he was in Minder, Crown Court and Scotland’s Story, we also saw Brian head for the USA as the first Hanibal Lector in Manhunter and in Scotland he was in the excellent film Shoot for the Sun with Jimmy Nail.
His first big break was as Dr. Hannibal Lecter in the aforementioned Manhunter . The film was not overly successful at the box office, although Cox’s career prospects and popularity continued to develop. Through the 1990s, he appeared in nearly 20 films and television series, as well as making numerous television guest appearances. Two Scottish roles in Rob Roy, as Killearn, then Braveheart as Argyle Wallace brought Brian to a much bigger audience.
Hollywood roles followed, the most notable were in The Bourne Identity and The Bourne Supremacy as well as Super Troopers and the sequal Super Troopers 2 as well as 25th Hour. Cox never turned his back on Scotland though, making appearances on our small screen in Bob Servant and Shetland, he was also in the film The Flying Scot about cyclist Graeme Obree.
I could be here all day giving all the shows and films Brian Cox has appeared in, in his personal life he has 4 children two to his first wife, and 2 his second wife, he is a patron of The Scottish Youth Theatre and an “ambassador” for the Screen Academy Scotland, he was twice elected Rector of the University of Dundee by students in his home town, as well as holding an honorary doctorate from Napier University in Edinburgh, awarded in July 2008. Finally on 14 April 2012, Cox was the 10th grand marshal of the New York City Tartan Day Parade
I could be here all day giving all the shows and films Brian Cox has appeared in so will only tell of his most recent. Last year he did a great monologue as John Rebus in a one-off short film set in lockdown Edinburgh, “Lockdown Blues. He has also been appearing in the American satirical comedy-drama Succession. Next up is a film called The Jesuit, co-starring Ron Perlman and Tim Roth and an Audio film series called Unsinkable with John Malkovich
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The Witness by Nichole Severn - A Review
The Witness by Nichole Severn – A Review
The Witness is deputy US marshal and former combat medic Finnick Reed and the witness he’s been assigned to protect from a serial killer Camille Goodman’s story.
I’m so thankful for being a part of the Syndicate! It gave me the opportunity to start my New Year with not one, but two of my favourite author’s books!
My Rating: 5/5Genre: Romantic SuspensePages: 161 (Kindle)Publisher: Harlequin…
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You know what??? I'll say it! Unpopular opinion (i think?)! I REALLY like the dark age of the law plotline!
I mean it makes sense.
Like, there was always deepseeded corruption and issues in the court system, as if the people aren't eventually going to lose faith? Especially after the disastrous string of corruption scandals regarding the closing of dl-6, the revelations regarding sl-9, the ur-1 incident, the disbarment, that thing with the chief prosecutor that apparently happens in aai2 but i'm not there yet, I could go on. Like. The people are Going to lose faith and that's Going to fuel more corruption from laywers who are desperate to find justice however they can (which, if the people don't trust them, truth and trust isn't going to work)'
You see multiple people in the legal system outed for serious corruption, some people involved- Like mister Miles Edgeworth who had rumours following him for YEARS regarding sl-9 and was in fact part of the whole scandal in the end but wasn't punished, and fucking, yeah, that's not his fault, but the PUBLIC doesn't know that, they're going to be pissed he got away with that- didn't even get punished! The people are going to lose faith. With the false convictions and the repeated scandals from 2016-2019 and the fact that some fuckers got away with it?
Aura Blackquill tried for YEARS to get her brother out of jail through legal means. Angel Starr and Jake Marshall still have to live with not having jobs after the corrupt bs of the sl-9 incident. Mia and Diego both suffered hell because the legal system failed to do its job and they had to persue dangerous criminals themselves. Miles Edgeworth looks *awful* after sl-9 and apparently got away with it (not that he shoulda been punished but that it definitely looks bad from the outside that he wasn’t). Not to mention Phoenix Wright, a rather well known defense attorney who always preached justice being outed as a fraud too!
And with the people so hostile towards the law is it any wonder people like Prof. Means and Kristoph Gavin thrived here? Any wonder the people who looked up to them thought resorting to corruption was the only way out? Any wonder the general public didn't lighten up when MORE corruption started popping up? And I mean, this all surfaced within the course of what, three or four years? That's not a lot. That's *just* enough time to trigger civil unrest and sour the public, actually.
And it's only natural that the introduction of lawyers who KNOW this isn't the right way to fix things. Klavier getting out from under his brothers thumb, Apollo and Athena searching for truth and justice above all, Nick getting his badge back, Simon being freed from jail, them inspiring people like Juniper, Hugh, and Robin to keep trying to find justice through true and just means. Ofc the only thing that can fix distrust from the public is good lawyers who care about people and want to fix things finally stepping up to do just that and mend public relations. When people like Prof. Means and Kristoph Gavin stop being the face of law then maybe the people can start to trust again. When wrongful convictions are overturned and lawyers seem to actually care. Miss Blackquill got an apology and her desperation paid off, Simon was cleared of all charges and freed freed, Kristoph and Means were arrested, other lawyers got up the courage to stand for truth and justice. The timeline adds up, the themes are nice, I actually Love the whole thing.
I mean, them saying "~the dark age of the law~" all the time was kinda grating but it was a reminder for the people who cared- Nick, Athena, Apollo, Klavier, Simon, Juniper, Hugh, Robin, etc- that things were Bad and needed to be Better?
Some lawyers decide the ends justify the means, that's what's being taught nowadays, you can't trust that things will turn out if you play nice, that's foolishly idealistic. And the more prominent thid kind of corruption becomes the more lawyers feel like they have to engage to have any chance of getting true justice against an opponent who's more than willing to fight dirty. It isn't right. But what else do you do? There's justice in truth. That's what people like Apollo and Athena believe. But what happens when truth DOESN'T bring justice? Or hell, even when justice isn't fair! Even Nick decided to use forged evidence once back when he had Trucy give Apollo that bloodied ace and quite frankly I don't exactly hold it against him. But of course when corruption is exposed and the courts stop being about the truth, can the people ever be expected to believe in them? False convictions. Death sentences for the innocent while the guilty walk free. More and more lawyers being exposed for corruption and crime. How can anybody trust a system like that? The way the court system is set up practically begs lawyers to be corrupt and distrustful and quite frankly that inspires the same in the people.
There are people like Athena and Apollo and Klavier and Nick and everyone else who genuinely CARES who still inspire a little bit of hope! Who still persue truth and justice and who are starting to make the people TRUST again, maybe just a little. Aura Blackquill is a wonderful example, she was ignored for YEARS as she tried to get justice and resorted to the most extreme measures, and yet she seemed to be starting to trust US a little in the end there because of *course* she was! Because the only thing that can drive out the darkness of the dark age of law is the light of people who are *good*. And she didn't trust the law completely at the end, far from it, but she trusted US enough to let us handle the case and that was a start. That was enough!
And I love it. I love this whole plotline. With my entire heart and soul. It’s all very naturally progressing from everything we see throughout the series. The slow buildup of distrust on all sides. The realism in that we don’t just Fix Everything and make everyone Love us again (aa5 may have reversed the big catalysts for the dark age of law but aa6 proves very clearly that there’s still work to be done in fixing things and rebuilding trust). But the optimism in showing what a few good people who care an awful lot can do.
It’s great. I love it so much.
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Supernatural Series Rewrite Episode 1 “Pilot”
So I recently wrote this and wanted to post it somewhere. This is like my first step in starting to write a series. I haven't decided whether or not I wanted it to be Sam x reader or Dean x reader yet, but go ahead and read if you’d like.
Warnings: like three swear words
word count: 8,520
Pairings: none (at the moment)
(Gif from safari)
You wake with a start, grabbing your chest trying to calm down from your nightmare. Your reoccurring nightmare. You knew they were a side effect of the guilt you carried. The guilt of the job, the life, the casualties. You also knew that you weren’t necessarily to blame either, but there was just one casualty you couldn’t let go of.
Sitting up from the motel bed, you swing your legs over the side and check the clock that read 5:53am, which is later than you usually end up sleeping anyways. You got up and headed to the bathroom, splashing some water in your face to wake you the rest of the way up.
You make your way back to the main room, sitting back on the bed and grabbing your phone from the bed side table, thumb hovering over one of your old messages
Taking a deep breath, you play the message and bring the phone to your ear.
You smile to yourself just hearing their voice.
“I know- “
The message is cut off. Frowning you look down at your phone to see an unknown number is calling you.
You answer the call and bring the speaker back to your ear.
“Hello?” You question into the phone.
“Is this Y/N Y/L/N?” The gruff voice replies.
“John. John Winchester. I need your help with a case.”
A few hours later, you check out of your motel room and look around the parking lot for a car. Any car.
Finding one that looks like it’s least likely to be missed, you make sure no one’s watching before smashing the window with your elbow, unlocking it from the inside and climbing in.
Once you’ve settled yourself in the driver seat, you take out a screwdriver from your bag and proceed to jam it into the ignition. Jiggling it around and turning it hard, the car starts with a rumble. Pulling out of the motel parking lot, you start to make your way to the small town of Jericho.
Hours later, you find yourself pulling into the crime scene behind a black muscle car. You watch the scene for a few minutes deciding on what badge to use. Reaching behind your seat to grab your bag, you take out your marshal badge and start to make your way out of the car and over to the police tape. Walking over you keep a look out for an older man but see two younger guys talking to the officer instead. Great, you thought. If the feds are already on this case, I’m screwed. You slow your pace, being careful as to not draw attention to yourself and listen in on their conversation.
“You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn’t you?” The shorter of the two asked walking towards the officer.
“And who are you?” The officer replied sticking them with an apprehensive look.
The man flashed his badge, “Federal marshals.” His partner keeping his distance, stood and watched. Upon further inspection, you realized there was no way these two were marshals. The boys were dressed in casual attire and seemed way too young to be any kind of law enforcement. They must be hunters.
“You two are a little young to be marshals, aren’t you?” You decide to step in, as the officer grows increasingly suspicious of the two. Walking up, you push yourself between the two boys.
“Hello, I’m federal marshal Joel.” you say flashing your badge and reaching out to shake the officer’s hand,” I believe you were about to answer my partner’s question, correct?” You finish without a smile. “Well?”
The three men all share the same look of confusion, “Um, yes. Yes of course.” The officer replies after a beat of silence, “My apologies, ma’am. We had another one like this about a mile up the road. There’ve been others before that.”
For the first time since you’d been there, the tall one spoke, “So, this victim, you knew him?” The other one started to walk around the car, glancing back and forth between the police taped car and the conversation taking place.
The officer nods, “Town like this, everybody knows everybody.”
You join the man and start to survey the car. “Any connection between the victims, besides that they’re all men?”
“No, ma’am,” The officer replies, shaking his head, “not so far as we can tell.”
“So, what’s the theory?” you ask, pacing back over to the two.
“Honestly?” You nod for him to continue, “We don’t know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?” You were about to ask another question when the shorter man cut you off.
“Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I’d expect of you guys.” Your eyes widen in shock, attempting to force down a grin as the tall one stomps on his partner’s foot. But your smile immediately vanished from your face when you met the suspicious glance the officer was giving you three.
“Thank you for your time.” The tall one says quickly, as he tries to get you all out of there before you drew more attention.
“Gentlemen.” You nod, following after them, “As you were.”
Walking faster to catch up to the pair, you watch as the shorter one whacks his partner upside the head as they start to argue in hushed whispers. You increase your pace and walk up next to them. Trying to keep up with their long strides, you smack the short one upside the head yourself.
“What the hell was that?” you yelled in a whisper, cutting him off, “I had more questions.”
“Okay,” he said, walking around to face you, stopping both you and his partner from walking any further. “Who the hell are you?”
“Y/N Y/L/N, hunter extraordinaire.” you say with a mock salute, watching as their eyebrows reach their hair line.
“You’re, a hunter?” the shorter one said in disbelief, while the taller one stayed silent.
You stood up straighter crossing your arms, “Yeah. Why?”
“Nothing, I guess it just explains how you knew we were hunters as well.” He replies putting his hands up in surrender
“I don’t know what more to tell ya, I just chalked it up to you guys being way too baby faced to be federal marshals,” You said walking past them and towards your car, missing the unimpressed faces they sent you, “some hunter called for backup. I was supposed to meet him in town, but I haven’t seen anyone else besides you two yahoos.” You continued over your shoulder as they followed you.
“Really? Yahoos?” the shorter one asked unimpressed, but you just rolled your eyes at his questioning tone.
“Well, we haven’t seen anyone else here, besides you,” the taller one spoke. “who is he? Maybe we know him”
“I don’t really know,” you explained. “I just know his name’s John Winchester, don’t know him personally, but I’ve heard of him from other hunters. He called me and said he needed help with a case.” You trailed off, coming to a stop after noticing they were no longer following you.
“what?” you asked turning towards them, eyes flickering between the two
“Are you sure his name was John Winchester?” The taller one spoke again.
Still looking between them, you answered with a confused expression, “Yes...? Why?”
Fully facing them now you watch as the boys shared a look, “Because, we’re Dean and Sam Winchester,” Dean spoke. “And we’re looking for our Dad.”
Not knowing what else to say, you nod behind you, “Come on. Let’s talk about this somewhere less filled with cops.” You say walking towards the cars.
Once you all reached the end of the bridge, you were immediately stopped by Dean grabbing your arm. You shrugged his hand off, fixing him with an expectant look, silently telling him to ask his question.
“Where is he?” he asked with a hard expression.
You paused for a moment staring at him with an amused look, “Didn’t I just say I don’t know? I was looking for him too remember?”
“Okay, smartass I just- “
“Look, he called me,” you continued, cutting Dean off, “I don’t even know how he got my number.”
Dean took a step towards you, “There’s no way. Dad would have called me for help, not,” He paused, gesturing towards you, “Buffy the vampire slayer.”
“And, what? He’d call you, Ken Doll?”
“Guys, stop,” Sam interrupted, having both you and Dean looking at him like pouty kids. “Can’t we just work the case? I mean, Dean, you said it yourself. We solve the case, we find Dad.”
Dean stared at Sam for a couple seconds, crossing his arms Dean mulled over what his brother had said. Ultimately if they were working the case you could always just move on to the next town if they didn’t need you.
“Fine.” Dean relented rolling his eyes and making off towards his car, Sam following soon after giving you a silent apology. You turned away from them, about to open your car door when Sam suddenly yelled after you, “Wait, Y/N. Aren’t you coming?”
You opted to help because, after all, hunters are better in numbers. You replied with a slight smile and a swift nod of your head, you go into the back of your car to grab your duffle bag, stuffing it with the rest of the items you left lying around the car. You hoist your bag over your shoulder, closing the door, locking the vehicle and jogging over to the black car to get in the back seat. Once you’ve settled, Dean starts the engine and drives off down the road towards the town.
Once you parked, you all get out of the car and look to a girl putting up missing posters.
“What are we doing here?” You ask.
“Well, we overheard Officer Petty back there talking about his daughter, who just happens to be Troy’s girlfriend.” Dean said pointing at the girl, “And I’ll bet you that’s her.”
You follow the boys over to her, scanning over all the missing posters along the wall.
“You must be Amy.” Dean starts, Bringing your focus back on the girl. She turns to the three of you with a small nod.
“Yeah.” She replies.
“Troy told us about you. We’re His uncles.” Dean continues, forgetting about you, “I’m Dean. This is Sammy.” He finishes, while making a quick gesture towards his brother.
Amy’s eyes land on you, watching as you cross your arms looking unimpressed with your lack of introduction, “And She is?”
“Oh, yeah right. Um, well, Y/N is- “
“His Girlfriend.” You interrupt while slapping on a sickly-sweet smile and giving Dean a quick jab in his side with your elbow, “I love him to pieces, but sometimes he can be quite, ditsy.” You say putting emphasis on ditsy. You take his hand and bat your eyelashes trying to keep up the act, “Isn’t that right, Sweetheart?”
Out of the corner of your eye you can see Sam trying to suppress his grin, watching as an incredibly fake smile crosses Dean’s face as he says a quick, “Yup,” through his clenched teeth.
“Well,” Amy starts, “He never mentioned you to me.” She turns away to continue hanging posters down the street, giving Dean ample time to rip his hand away from yours.
“Yeah, that’s Troy, I guess,” Dean says walking back beside Amy, “We’re not around much, we’re up in Modesto.”
Tired of Dean’s small talk, Sam cuts in, “So we’re looking for him too and we’re asking around.” Sam continues stepping in front of Amy to stop her from walking any further down the street, a kind smile on his face. Before she can get a chance to reply, another young woman comes up and puts a hand on Amy’s shoulder.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah.” She replied.
Sam cuts in, quickly trying to move things along, “You mind if we ask you a couple questions?”
The five of you walk into a poorly lit diner, Amy and her friend sliding into one side of a booth while Sam slides in on the opposite side. You were about to sit next to Sam when Dean rushes around you and sits down before you, sporting a proud smirk on his face. You pull up a chair and slam it down a little more aggressively then you meant too. Sitting down at the end of the table you look to Amy as she starts to tell you about Troy’s accident.
“I was on the Phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back.” Amy says a little breathlessly, “And, uh, he never did.”
“He didn’t say anything strange or out of the ordinary?” You asked in a comforting tone.
Amy shook her head with a sigh, “No, nothing I can remember.”
There was a brief pause in conversation until Dean broke the silence, “Here’s the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something’s not right. So, if you’ve heard anything.” You kick his leg under the table and force a fake laugh, ignoring the scowl he sends you, “I think what he’s trying to say,” you add glaring back at Dean, “is that anything could be of potential help.”
Turning your attention back to the other side of the table you watch as the two girls exchange glances and start to shift uncomfortably in their seats. You raise a brow in question, “What is it?” You ask looking between the two.
Amy’s friend shrugs before looking at the three of you, “Well, it’s just,” She pauses, “I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk.”
“What do they talk about?” the brothers say in unison.
You ignore the two and continue to focus on the friend as she once again shifts in her seat, “It’s kind of this local legend.” She explains, “This one girl, she got murdered out on Centennial, like, decades ago.” She adds, fiddling with her hands, “Well, supposedly she’s still out there. She hitchhikes. And whoever picks her up, well, they disappear forever.” She finishes with a sad expression. You and the boys share a look, knowing exactly where you’re going next.
The only thing you could hear was the chatter and the keyboard clicks of the library as Dean typed the words: Female Murder Hitchhiking into the search bar of the computer. Pressing the go button, you watch over his shoulder when nothing comes up. Trying again, Dean changed the key words to: Female Murder Centennial Highway, but still no results. You moved around him to try and take the keyboard.
“Move over, let me try.” You say, trying to shove him away from the computer.
Shoving back, Dean yanked the keyboard away from you, “Got it.” He said slapping away your attempts to take over the computer.
“Dean, just let me try!” You yelled in a whisper.
“You’re such a control freak. Y/N, Stop!” Dean whispered back.
“Guys, will you please shut up?” Sam interrupted, you both looked up to Sam noticing that while you were both distracted, he had taken the computer himself.
You and Dean both stare at him with an unimpressed look, “Dude.” You look at Dean realizing you had said that at the same time. Rolling your eyes in disgust, you shift closer to Sam and peer over at the screen.
“Well?” You asked, “whatcha got?”
Sam sighed, “Well, angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?”
“Yeah.” Dean replied like it was obvious.
“Maybe it’s not murder.” Sam explained.
You watch from behind them as Sam exchanges the word murder with suicide and presses the search button. Both yours and Dean’s eyebrows raise as an article pops up, Sam clicks on the link.
“This was 1981.” You mumble to yourself, leaning closer to the screen.
Sam nods and continues to read the article, “Constance Welch, 24 years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river.”
“Did it say why she did it?” Dean questions, looking between Sam and the computer.
“Yeah.” Sam replies trailing off, Still reading the article.
“What is it?” You ask, noticing he still hasn’t answered.
“Well,” he starts, “an hour before they found her, she calls 911. Her two kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute and when she comes back, they aren’t breathing.” Sam pauses and nods his head, “Both die.”
“That’s pretty rough,” you say leaning back as Sam continues to read the article.
“’Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn’t bear it,’ said husband Joseph Welch.” Sam finishes.
Dean looks at you and Sam motioning towards the screen, “That bridge look familiar to you?”
All three of you look at the blue glow of the screen, staring at a photo of the same bridge you were on just a few hours ago.
Just after dark you all arrive at the bridge, looking around for any signs of Constance.
“So, this is where Constance Took the swan dive.” Dean says looking over the bridge railing.
“So, you think Dad would have been here?” Sam asks ignoring Dean’s remark.
“Well, he’s chasing the same story and you guys are chasing him,” You state leaning backwards against the rail, “So, I’d say it’s pretty likely.”
“Okay,” Sam adds following Dean as he walks away from the edge of the bridge, “so, now what?”
“Now, we keep digging till we find him.” Dean says, “Might take a while.”
Sam sighs and shakes his head, “Dean, I told you.” Sam says coming to a complete stop, “I’ve gotta get back…”
“By Monday.” They finish together.
“Right.” Dean adds, “The interview.” you can hear the disappointment in his voice. Thinking it’s probably best, you keep your distance from the two brothers, feeling like you’re intruding on a private conversation, but you can still hear their voices.
“Yeah. I forgot.” Dean pauses, glancing from the ground to Sam, “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you? You think you’re just gonna become a lawyer? Marry your girl?”
“Maybe. Why not?”
“Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know what you’ve done?” Dean continues to pry.
You keep watching the scene before you unfold not knowing what to do besides stay rooted to your spot.
“No,” Sam responds, “And she’s not ever going to know.”
“Well, That’s healthy.” Dean says sarcastically, “You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But, sooner or later, you’re gonna have to face up to who you are.” He finishes before walking further down the bridge. You stayed where you were continuing to look at the water flow under the bridge when you heard the sound of clanging metal. Looking back, you see Dean holding Sam against one of the bridges beams by his jacket.
“Alright, Alright that’s enough!” You said rushing over, “Break it up, you morons.”
You ripped Dean off of Sam, standing in between them to keep them away from each other. Watching as they both took deep breaths and began to calm down.
“So ladies, are you both done pulling each other’s pigtails now?” You say looking between them. Dean turned away from you and Sam with a hard look, starting to walk down the bridge when he stopped in his tracks.
“Sam, Y/N.” Dean said continuing to stare in front of him. Walking up beside him, you and Sam look up to see where Dean’s gaze was fixed, only to see a pale woman standing on the edge of the bridge. You all continue to stare wide eyed at the woman as she starts to tip forward, falling straight into the water. The initial shock wears off as she falls from sight, all three of you sprinting to the edge of the bridge, but you see nothing below.
“Where’d she go?” You ask.
“I don’t know,” Sam replies.
Suddenly, you’re startled by the loud rumble of the Impala’s engine. Looking down the bridge at the bright head lights, you all back away from the railing and stare at the car.
“what the…” Dean mutters to himself.
“Who’s driving your car?” Sam asks with a look of confusion.
“My thoughts exactly.” You said, trailing off as Dean lifts up his car keys. As soon as you see the keys in Dean’s hand, the tires begin to screech, sending the car in motion towards the three of you. Once you realize the car isn’t stopping, all three of you begin to barrel down the bridge. Hearing the car gaining on you three, Sam and Dean dive over the railing and off the bridge. At the last moment, you follow behind them, falling into the water below.
Pulling yourself out of the murky water, you collapse on to the shore covered in mud, groaning as you feel the rocks against your face. You roll over to look up at the bridge noticing Sam had some how managed to hold onto the railing.
“Dean! Y/N!” Sam yells, looking down as he notices you, “Hey, are you guys alright?”
You turn your head as much as you could to see Dean laying in the gravel a few feet away from you, drenched head to toe in gunk and grime. Dean looks back at you, then up at his brother.
“We’re super.” He says holding up an O.K. sign with his hand.
Sam begins to laugh, hoisting himself back over the railing and onto the bridge. You close your eyes for a moment just laying in the filth when you hear the crunch of rocks under someone’s boot. Feeling a light kick to your leg you open one eye to reveal Dean holding out his hand, “C’mon Buffy, don’t want to miss all the fun, do ya?” He smirks.
You squeeze your eyes tight before sitting up, taking his hand in the process. Dean pulls you up off the ground and starts to walk back towards the bridge. You try to shake off as much mud as you can before jogging up next to Dean.
“And, for the record,” You start, “ghosts are not ‘fun’.” You say with air quotes, watching as Dean glanced at you and let out a small chuckle.
When you both finally made it over to Sam, Dean immediately opens the Impala’s hood to check it over, making sure nothing was damaged during the brief ghost possession.
“Car all right?” Sam asks.
“Yeah. Whatever she did to it, it seems alright now.” Dean replies closing the hood. “That Constance chick, what a bitch!” He yells into the air.
You shake your head at the man’s antics, “Well, she doesn’t want us around, that’s for sure.”
Dean sighs and leans against his car. “So, where’s the trail go from here, genius?” Sam questions joining Dean against the impala.
Dean answers Sam’s question by throwing his hands up in defeat and flicking some of the dirt off his hands. After a beat of silence, Sam sniffs at the air and turns to face his brother.
“You smell like a toilet.” Sam says matter-of-factly with a grimace on his face.
Looking down at his dirty clothes with a look of disgust, Dean then looks up at you.
“You can’t blame it all on me. Y/N fell in too.” Dean said gesturing to you but still looking at Sam for back up.
You cross your arms over your chest, shooting daggers at Dean, “Come on. I want to wash this stuff off me.” You say walking over to the car making sure to punch Dean in the arm before climbing in the backseat. Sam, looking almost as unimpressed as you, follows your lead and walks around the car, settling into the passenger seat waiting for his brother. Soon after, Dean follows rubbing the pain from his arm, and you drove off towards the nearest motel.
“One room, please.” Dean says throwing a fake credit card down on the register.
Your eyebrows furrow, “Um, excuse me. One, room?” you asked Dean in a hushed voice.
“Uh, yeah? You’re not buyin’, are you?” He replies looking back at you.
“Technically, neither are you, dumbass.” You add.
He rolls his eyes and turns back to the clerk, “Actually could you make that two rooms, thanks.” Turning back to you, he lowers his voice again, “There, happy?”
You were about to speak when the clerk’s voice cut in, “You guys having a reunion or something?”
“What do you mean?” Sam asked as you all turn to look at the man behind the counter.
“That other guy, Burt Aframian.” The man says, “He came in and bought out a room for the whole month.”
Sharing looks with the boys you grab both of your keys and make your way out of the office.
Watching the door click open after Sam successfully picks the lock, he stands up from his crouched position and enters the room with caution as you follow close behind him. Before you enter the room, you look behind you and notice Dean’s not paying attention. You quickly grab him by the back of the collar, pulling him in and closing the motel door behind you. Dean opens his mouth to speak but is quickly silenced when he gets a look of the room. Observing the stuff haphazardly left behind, you see an array of missing posters and articles, some were strung up on the walls while others were laid on the floor along with lore books about multiple types of ghosts and creatures.
As Dean turns on a lamp, you follow behind Sam stepping over a line of salt while looking over the pages taped to the wall.
“Ugh,” Dean flinches after smelling an old burger, “I don’t think he’s been here for a couple of days, at least.”
You stop, looking between the boys, “But, that wouldn’t make any sense.”
“why not?” Sam asked.
“Because he called me a day ago saying he needed help with this case.” You add, “Why would he take off?”
“Well, look around. Salt. Cat’s-eye shells.” Sam says standing up from examining the salt on the ground. “He was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in.”
You shared an uneasy look with Sam before turning back to look through the remnants of John’s stay.
“What do you got here.” Sam asked his brother.
“Centennial Highway victims.” Dean answers still looking at the posters, “I don’t get it. They’re different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities. There’s always a connection, right?”
The question is left hanging in the air as all three of you scour the walls for any clue as to what you were dealing with.
“What do these guys have in common?” Dean continued, mostly speaking to himself at this point.
Looking over the horde of ripped pages and articles you notice a small note out the corner of your eye. You walk over and turn on the lamp nearby, illuminating the pictures along the wall. Tapping Sam’s arm to get his attention, you point towards the piece of parchment where the words ‘Woman in White’ are written in red marker.
“Huh,” Sam Chuckled, “Dad figured it out.”
“What do you mean?” Dean says turning around to the two of you.
“He found the same article we did.” Sam paused gesturing to the wall, “Constance Welch. She’s our Woman in White.”
Dean turned back towards the posters, chuckling slightly, “You sly dogs.”
“Ugh,” You grimace, “I’ve dealt with a Woman in White before. She was one nasty bitch.”
The brothers share a confused look behind you. “Anyways,” Dean says, rolling his eyes and disregarding what you said, “if we are dealing with a Woman in White, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it.”
“She might have another weakness.” Sam states.
“No, Dad would want to make sure. He’d dig her up.” Dean continued walking over to look over the documents himself.
“Does it say where she’s buried?” You ask.
“No. Not that I can tell.” Sam sighs and continues, “If I were Dad, though, I’d go ask her husband. If he’s still alive.” He finishes, sitting down on the unmade bed.
You hum in understanding as you and Dean continue to look over the information.
“Alright, why don’t you see if you can find an address. I’m gonna get cleaned up.” Dean says walking towards to bathroom.
You were about to head to your own room to shower, but Sam stood up and spoke before either of you could leave.
“Hey, Dean?” He paused waiting a second for Dean to turn around, “What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I’m sorry.”
Thinking you were about to be caught in the middle of another family discussion you stand up to leave, but was stopped by Dean holding up his hand.
“No chick-flick moments.”
Sam shakes his Head with a slight chuckle, “Alright. Jerk.”
“Morons.” You say rolling your eyes at the brothers’ behavior.
Taking your key, you say a quick goodbye to Sam and find your own room. Unlocking the door, you set your bag on the bed, taking out some fresh clothes and head to the shower, finally able to wash away all the mud.
Getting dressed in your clean clothes, you go to leave the room, but paused and turned to where your bag is sitting on the bed. Sighing, you slowly pace towards the bed and dig to the bottom of your bag, grabbing your phone. Checking your messages, you bring the phone to you ear and begin to play the old message again.
Closing your eyes, slowly laying down on the bed and letting their voice wash over you. You almost feel like you’re going to forget what their voice sounds like…
“I know you told me not to call…”
The voice continued. You were so lost in the message that you practically jump when you hear a knock at the door.
Quickly hanging up the phone, you bolt up from the bed and open the door, “Yeah, Dean?”
“I’m going to the diner down the street. Sam said I should probably ask you if you wanted anything to eat.” Dean said, casually leaning against the door frame.
“No. I’m okay.” You say with a small sniff, hoping he would just leave and you could avoid people for just a little while longer.
Dean nods and goes to turn away, but stops to look back at you, “Hey, uh, are you okay?” he asks looking a little concerned.
“Yup. Just dandy.” You reply, giving him a halfhearted smile as you close the door.
letting out a sigh you walk back over to where you discarded your phone, picking it up and chucking it back in your duffle bag.
Thinking you’d better meet up with Sam you grab your coat to leave, but before you do you catch the sight of Dean outside your window. Taking a closer look, you watch as the officer from the crime scene shoves Dean face down on the police car, handcuffing his hands behind his back.
Wasting no time, you rush into the bathroom and lock the door behind you. Standing on the back of the toilet, you unlatch the window and pop the bug screen out, careful as to hoist yourself onto the windowsill and shimmy yourself the rest of the way out.
Running around to the edge of the building you see Sam, who apparently managed to get out of his room without being seen as well.
“Hey, You okay?” You asks Sam.
“Yeah.” He said a little startled to see you, “I’m fine, but they got Dean.”
“I know. I watched from my window.”
There was a beat of silence, both of you trying to figure out where to go from there. A light bulb went off in your head. Knowing exactly where you were going you turn on your heals and start walking around the building and to the impala.
“Come on, Sam.” You yell behind you.
Sam jogs a little in order to catch up to you, fixing you with a confused expression, “Wait, Y/N. Where are you going?”
Once you both reach the car, you open the passenger side door and get in, Turning to look at Sam as he gets into the driver seat beside you, “We, Samuel, are going to pay a visit to the husband of the corpse bride.”
“Hi, are you Joseph Welch?” Sam asks as an older man opens the door.
“Yeah.” The man replies looking between you and Sam.
“Great.” You add, “Would you mind if we asks you a few questions?”
You and Sam walk along side Joseph as he looks over an old photo of the boys and who you assumed to be their dad.
“Yeah. He was older, but that’s him.” Joseph starts, “Came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter.”
“That’s right.” Sam answers taking the photo back, “We’re working on a story together.”
Joseph looks at Sam with a weird look on his face as you all continue to walk through the property.
“Well, I don’t know what the hell kind of story you’re working on.” He shakes his head, “The questions he asked me…”
“About your late wife, Constance.” You chime in.
Joseph paused, turning his attention to you, “He asked me where she was buried.”
“And where is that again?”
“I gotta go through this twice?” He asks, clearly becoming a bit annoyed at the questions.
“It’s fact-checking.” Sam adds, “If you don’t mind.”
Still looking at you both with confusion in his eyes, Joseph continues, “In a plot behind my old place, over on Breckenridge.”
you tilt your head in question, “Why did you move?”
“I’m not going to live in the house where my children died.” Joseph said a little breathlessly as you all come to a stop.
Sam turned to Joseph and asked the next question, “Mr. welch, did you ever marry again?”
“No way.” He states, “Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I ever know.” He finishes with a slight smile.
Sam nods, “So you had a happy marriage?”
There’s a long pause as you stand there waiting for Joseph to reply.
“Definitely.” Joseph says shaking his head in agreement.
Looking over at Sam, you watch as he inhales deeply and looks to the ground for a brief second. You both knowing full well the Mr. Welch is lying.
“Well, that Should do it,” You say with a smile, “Thanks for your time.”
You glance at Sam and gesture to the car, silently telling him to leave it alone. At first, he complies and follows you towards the impala, but stops as he holds the car keys in his hand.
“Mr. Welch, You ever hear of a Woman in White?” Sam asks, causing you to smack your forehead in annoyance. Why couldn’t he have just left it alone? You thought.
Joseph turns back around at the sudden outburst, “A what?”
“A Woman in White.” Sam pushes, “Or sometimes a Weeping Woman?”
Mr. Welch continues to look at Sam with a confused look on his face.
“It’s a ghost story. Well…” Sam lets out a small chuckle, “It’s more of a phenomenon, really. They’re spirits.”
Sam starts to stalk closer to Joseph and continues to speak.
“They’ve been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places. In Hawaii, in Mexico. Lately, in Arizona, Indiana.” Sam says, coming to tower over the man in front of him, “All these are different women, you understand, but all share the same story.”
“Boy,” Mr. Welch says looking intimidated, turns away from Sam, “I don’t care much for nonsense.”
But Sam doesn’t let up, “See, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them. And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children.”
Joseph turned around with a look of shock, but staying silent as Sam continues.
“Then one they realize what they had done, they took their own lives.” Sam concludes, “So now their spirits are cursed. Walking backroads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again.”
With a trembling lip, Mr. Welch looks up at Sam, “You think,” He pauses, “You think that has something to do with Constance, You smartass?”
Joseph starts to move closer to Sam, eyebrows furrowed together in anger, but Sam doesn’t move an inch, and instead answers with a calm voice.
“You tell me.”
“…I mean, maybe,” Joseph starts still trembling with anger, “maybe I made some mistakes. But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would have killed her own children. Now you get the hell out of here.”
You watch from a distance as Joseph turns and walks away, leaving Sam to make his way back to the car.
“That was incredibly unnecessary.” You say, crossing your arms from the same spot you had been in the whole time.
Sam just shrugs, getting in the car and starting it up. Rolling your eyes you climb in after him and tear out of the driveway and onto the road.
Both you and Sam were sat silent in the car. Every now and then you’d look out the window trying to figure out how you could get Dean out of police custody. Finally coming up with an idea, you reach over the seat and fish through Sam’s coat pocket as he stared at you in question. Taking out his phone you dial 911, listening as it rings.
“Hey, who are you- “
“Shush.” You say holding a finger to your lips.
Sam gives you a confused look, “But- “
“Sam. Shush.” You silence him once more as the line connects.
“Hello, this is 911. What is your emergency?”
“Please, come quick!” You say with fake panic in your voice, “Somebody just started firing a gun and I don’t, I don’t know what to do and- “
“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to stay calm. Where did you hear the gun shots?”
“I’m on Whiteford Road, just please come quick I-“ You hang up the phone mid-sentence and hand the phone back to Sam, “That should do it.”
“Y/N, was that the cops?”
“Yeah, it was.” You smile over at Sam. He just laughs under his breath and turns back to the road. Thinking you’ll be in the car for awhile, you fully turn in your seat towards Sam and try to start up a conversation.
“Can I ask you something?”
Sam nods, but keeps his eyes ahead of him.
“What was the deal with you and Dean back on the bridge?”
Sam forces a laugh and shakes his head, “It’s a long story.”
“Sam,” you start, “we’re literally driving down the road in the middle of nowhere. I think we got the time.”
Sam chuckles at your response.
“So?” You persist.
“So, I’m going to school.” Sam explains.
“And…?” You ask drawing out the word, “Come on, Sam. That can’t be the whole story.”
He lets out a deep sigh and continues, “I left the hunting life behind. I’ve always wanted to go to school, always wanted an out from hunting. So, when I got the opportunity to go to Stanford, I took it.”
You continue to listen as Sam takes a pause.
“But when I left the life, I kinda ended up leaving Dad, and leaving Dean behind.” Sam briefly looks to you with a sad smile adoring his face, “As you can imagine, they didn’t take it so well.”
You put a comforting hand on his shoulder, tilting your head, “Sam, I’m sorry that happened.”
He just nods his head, once again turning back to the road. The silence is broken in the car when Sam’s phone begins to ring. You grab it before Sam can and answer the call.
“Fake 911 phone call, Sammy? I don’t know. That’s pretty illegal.” You hear Deans voice through the speaker.
“Sorry, to break it to ya Dean-o, but that was all me. You’re welcome.” You say over the phone.
Dean sighs on the other side of the line, “Well, thanks. Can you pass the phone to Sam now?”
“Fine.” You relent, passing the phone to Sam.
Because he took his phone back, you could only hear one side of the conversation. But nevertheless, you still tried to hear what Dean was saying.
“Tell me about it,” Sam said, “So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a Woman in White. And she’s buried behind her old house, so that should’ve been Dad’s last stop. I just can’t figure out why he hasn’t destroyed the corpse yet.”
He pauses for a few second listening to Dean.
“What?” Sam asks, “how do you now?”
You straighten up in your seat, “What? What’s going on?” You try and ask.
He takes the phone away from his ear for a second and looks to you, “Our Dad left Jericho…” He says putting the phone back to his ear.
“What? Why?” You ask.
“He doesn’t go anywhere with out that thing.” Sam says not hearing your question, “What’s it say? Coordinates. Where to?”
Leaning back in your seat you watch as Sam’s face contorts into a look of confusion.
“Dean, what the hell is going on?”
Suddenly, you look up to see Constance standing in the middle of the road.
“Sam, watch out!” You scream as Sam slams on the breaks, dropping the phone. The car comes to a screeching halt, both you and Sam panting with slack jaws.
“Take me home.” Both you and Sam spin around and look behind you to see the ghost of a woman sitting in the back seat. “Take me home.” She says with more force.
“No.” Sam says turning back to face forwards. Out of nowhere you hear the clicking of the doors and seeing as all the doors lock. Your hand flies to the door trying to pull the lock up, but it’s no use.
You jolt forwards as the car starts moving back down the road.
“Sam?” You ask slowing turning to him.
“That’s not me.” Sam says as he looks over the dash trying to find a way to open the doors or stop the car.
The car continues down the road with Constance sitting calmly in the back. You watch out the window when the car comes to a complete stop and turns off outside and old worn-down house.
“Don’t do this.” Sam says in a hushed tone.
You look at Constance in the rear-view mirror, watching as she peers up at the house with a longing stare, “I can never go home.”
“You’re scared to go home.” Sam said in realization.
The windows start to freeze over as Sam looks behind him to find Constance is no longer there, but is now sitting in between the two of you as he turns back to the front seat.
Constance jumps on Sam, pushing him back into the seat.
“Sam!” You shout, but you’re shoved back against the window as you try to reach him.
Sam struggles against Constance’s hold, “You can’t kill me. I’m not unfaithful. I’ve never been.” He says out of breath, still trying to break away from the ghost.
Constance leanings down to whisper in Sam’s ear, “You will be.”
You fight against the invisible force holding you down, trying to do anything you can as you watch Constance lean down and press her lips to Sam’s.
Struggling; Sam reaches desperately for the car keys that hang in the ignition, but ceases His struggling as Constance disappears.
You’re both panting for breath wondering where she went. Your question is answered when Sam starts howling in pain.
“Sam!” You cry still pinned to the seat, “What’s happening?!”
Sam opens his sweater to reveal five finger shapes holes digging into his skin, he continues to yell in pain, watching as Constance flickers in and out of sight.
All of a sudden, four gunshots ring out, shattering the window closest to Sam. You duck down as best as you can as Constance disappears. You pull yourself from the seat as Sam sits up and starts the car’s engine.
“I’m taking you home.” Sam says, slamming his foot down on the gas. The car goes flying through the side of the house, crashing into the debris and old furniture.
You hear the sound of someone running up to the car.
“Sam! Y/N!” Dean yells coming around the side of the car.
“Here!” You and Sam shout simultaneously.
“You guys okay?” He asks.
“Yeah.” You say through clenched teeth holding your wrist, “I think I hit my hand on the dashboard.”
“Okay, come on.” Dean grabs your good hand and helps you out of the car.
“What about you Sam? Can you move?” Dean says ducking back into the Car.
“Yeah. Help me.” He says through a groan. Dean helps pull Sam out of the car as well and leans him against the impala.
When the three of you turn around you are met with the antagonizing stare of Constance. With a wave of her hand an old dresser come flying towards you three, keeping you in place against the car.
All three of you fight against her hold as she stalks towards you. Only to be stopped when the lights begin to flicker.
Looking around to the room, your attention is caught by the sound of running water coming from the stairs.
You all look up to the source of the water, seeing two silhouettes of children as they begin to talk in a whisper, “You’ve come home to us, Mommy.”
Constance looks to them in fear as they appear behind her. Watching the children hug Constance, she begins to wail in pain as they dissolve into a pool of water before you.
You all take deep breaths and push the dresser away unpinning you all from the car. Walking over you look down at the puddle left behind.
“So, this is where she drowned her kids.” Dean says.
“That’s why she could never go home,” Sam nods, “She was too scared to face them.”
“You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy.” Dean states, patting Sam in the shoulder a little too hard, causing Sam to let out a mixture between a groan and a laugh.
“Yeah, wish we could say the same for you.” You laugh, clearly joking around, “What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak.”
“Hey.” Dean says pointing between you and his brother, “Saved your asses. And I’ll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car…” he pauses looking Sam dead in the eyes, “I’ll kill you.” Dean finished while you and Sam looked at each other and let out a laugh.
Later, you’re all back in the car, heading away from the small town of Jericho. You’re once again in the back seat, looking over Sam’s shoulder as he scans over a map with a flashlight and compares it to the coordinates their Dad left behind.
“Okay, here’s where Dad went.” Sam says pointing to a place on the map.
“Blackwater Ridge, Colorado?” You ask reading it off the map.
Dean nods, “Sounds charming. How far?”
“About 600 miles.” Sam replies.
“If we shag ass, we could make it by morning.”
There’s a brief pause in the car as Sam hesitates to answer.
Dean looks between the road and Sam, “You’re not going.”
Sam sighs and looks to Dean, “The interview’s in, like, 10 hours. I gotta be there.”
You feel bad for Dean, watching him nod his head with obvious disappointment.
“Yeah.” Dean adds trailing off towards the end. “Yeah, whatever. I’ll take you home.”
You sit in the backseat quietly as Sam turns off his flashlight. You all rode together in silence most of the way back to Stanford.
Pulling up to the front of what looked to be small apartment buildings or dorms of some sort, Sam immediately gets out of the car and turns around to look through the window.
“Bye, Y/N.” Sam says giving you a little wave.
“Goodbye, Samuel.” You reply with a smile.
“Maybe I can meet up with you later?” Sam asks turning to his brother.
“Yeah alright.” Dean nods.
Sam starts to walk away but Dean calls his name before he could get to far, causing Sam to turn back around.
“You know, we all made a hell of a team back there.”
Sam gives him a slight smile, “Yeah.”
You watch as Sam walks back towards the front door and disappears inside. You clap Dean’s shoulder twice and then move to get out of the car, Dean following out of the car after you.
Once you grab your bag, you throw it over your shoulder and give Dean a smile.
“Well, I’ll see you on the other side Winchester.” You saying giving a little salute, turning to walk away.
You hear him open the car door, but never hear it close. Once you were a bit away you hear his voice yelling after you.
You turn around to see him jogging towards you, only stopping once he was in front of you.
“What is it?” You ask.
“Well, I was just hoping- or wondering if maybe, and I mean you don’t have to, but- “
“Dean.” You interrupt, “Just ask your question, dumbass.”
“Do you wanna come with me? To Blackwater Ridge?”
“What? All we did the whole time we were on this case was argue.” You say crossing your arms, “Why are you asking me to come with you?”
“Maybe we did argue a lot,” Dean nods a few times, agreeing with you, “But it was still fun picking on you. Plus, it’s better than hunting alone without back up.”
You stare at him for a couple seconds, narrowing your eyes.
“Okay, as in you’ll come?” He asks a little hopeful.
“Okay, as in we’ll try this out.” You say walking towards the car.
Putting your duffle bag in the trunk, you look over at Dean to see he’s staring at Sam’s building.
“I’ll be right back. I just gotta check something.”
You watch him walk into the building, casually leaning against his car.
Moments later you notice smoke start to plume above the building. Ripping out your phone you call 911, hearing footsteps you look to the door seeing as Dean drags Sam out of the burning building.
“Oh my god, Sam. Are you okay?” You ask hurrying over to check him for injuries.
Sam doesn’t reply and instead just stares at the smoldering building.
After some time passes, the firemen show up to put out the fire, you and Dean watching from behind police tape with the other residents.
You both start walking back over to the car joining Sam as he rifles through the trunk.
In the flashing light of the fire trucks, you can see the tears rolling off his nose as he lets out a sigh. Sam throws one of the shotguns back into the truck.
“We got work to do.”
114 notes · View notes
Fresh Squeeze, Pt. 6
Pairing: Daveed Diggs x OFC Linden Marshall
Set in 2023, post-pandemic
Warnings: Cursing, Wild Thoughts™️, Angst, Yearning, 18+, Walmart shopping, Anime discussion, Anthony Ramos. Lots of Plot
Word Count: 2.8 K
Plot: Linden Marshall just finished law school at Columbia University in NYC. Daveed Diggs is still creating magic with his platonic life partner Rafael Casal in the form of their Blindspotting musical, Bay Boys. Linden’s boyfriend WAS Mark Monaco, star of the superhero movie series Invincible. They were together for years, and her trauma and his addictions were toxic. She knows now that wasn’t love.
A/N: Keep in mind that this the same AU as Arrivals, with Holly Woods, but is BEFORE Rafa and Holly get together.
Read the previous chapter.
Isabela, Puerto Rico, May 2023
“We are about 30 minutes from our destination. Please stay seated with your seatbelts fastened. The pilot will let you know when it is safe to do otherwise. Enjoy the rest of the flight.”
The flight attendant’s announcement woke up Daveed. He felt warm and happy. And he had you in his arms.
Daveed moved his head down into your curls, and kissed the top of your head., checking to see if anyone was watching. Everyone was knocked the fuck out.
You had fallen asleep on his shoulder about 45 minutes into the flight after passing around champagne bottles. You were so cute, but he could tell that your neck was gonna be wrecked when you awoke.
Daveed had carefully maneuvered you so that he could pull up the armrest without waking you. You were dead to the world, so you waking up wasn’t a problem.
Then, he pulled you to his chest, situating the blanket around you two and leaning back. If he wanted anything from you right now, at the top of the list would be to be able to hold you like this and to show love.
He questioned that word in his mind. Love, really? He did love you, even if it was only as a good friend. But could it be more? Were you ready for that? Was he?
Daveed looked around to see Craig watching him and giving a thumbs up. No one else noticed, Rafa was on his laptop and he could have sworn that Anthony and Jasmine were doing something nasty under their blanket behind you.
He settled back into this feeling of being with you and fell asleep too, happy and content.
You woke up to a strange rhythm under your ear. It was a blue covered heartbeat, you recognized as you opened one eye, and it was insistent and hard, yet warm and safe. You shifted, held Daveed’s torso tighter and tried to drift back off. His arms tightened around you in response.
Then your eyes popped open.
“Oh shit!” You realized what was going on. You sat up slowly and squinted at Daveed’s smile and his damn low sexy voice.
You blushed and wiped your mouth.
“Shit, I’m sorry…” you wiped at his onesie. “I think I drooled all over your…”
You didn’t finish the sentence when you glanced at Daveed and caught his eye.
What you said that night came back to both of you. D’s eyes darkened and he licked his lips. For a minute, you were trapped by the static energy of your attraction. Daveed could do a lot with those lips right now if you’d let him.
But of course you fought it.
You took a deep breath and sat up, separating from Daveed more fully. You had to get it together. You reached for your phone and checked your face, making sure you weren’t too crusty.
“Practically perfect in every way.” Daveed was watching you.
“That’s your first mistake.” You clicked your camera off. “ Anything that’s perfect isn’t real. Or alive.” You had learned a lot in therapy.
“Truth.” Daveed looked at you appraisingly. “Such wisdom from a young one.” He leaned close to you. “That’s why I said, ‘practically.’” He was staring at your lips, not wanting to give up on meeting them again.
“I’m not a ‘young one.’ I’m thirty in two days.”
You lifted your chin as a child would do, Daveed noted. It was appropriate, because you were being stubborn as fuck right now.
He chuckled and stayed close, not letting you off the hook.
“And I’m 40. I could be your…”
The timbre of his voice was causing your pussy to vibrate. Holy fuck.
“...Daddy,” you said, huskily.
You opened your mouth to breathe, as Daveed grunted quietly in his throat. God, you wanted to fuck him. You remembered that you knew how big he was. Your eyes widened and you watched his mouth.
Daveed would teach you about Daddy. He wanted to rail you until your pussy curved to his dick. Got damn.
Daveed wanted you and you wanted him. It was crystal clear. He began to reach for you under the blanket when the flight attendant’s voice intruded on your vibe.
“We are beginning our descent into Rafael Hernández Airport, please stay seated with your seatbelts fastened and bring your tray tables and seats to an upright and locked position. The temperature is 75 degrees and the current time is 12:47 am. We should be at our gate shortly. Thank you.”
That’s it. The moment was gone. You reached for your water bottle and took a drink to cool down. You were grateful.
Daveed was frustrated, as he sat back, brought his seat up, but held the blanket on his lap for a little while longer. It wasn’t fair, he almost had you. He closed his eyes. Now he felt like a child.
The crew finally arrived in town around 2 am, after the two hour flight and renting a couple of cars to get to Isabela, a village on the seaside.
Loud music was playing to avoid falling asleep, Rafael driving one car and Ant the other.
Arriving in town, the two cars headed straight to the Walmart to get some food and things. It was almost 2 am, but everyone was re-energized and playing around, glad to be free for the time being on the island.
Daveed had to concentrate to read the titles in the video section. His mind kept going back to the moment on the airplane. But he vowed not to chase you up and down this island. He didn’t want to crowd you. It had to be your decision.
You had to come to him. And the thought of you made him want to cum. He’d have you to think about in the shower tonight, or today, whatever.
He needed to stop thinking about it.
Daveed was looking for Black Dynamite to watch in the condo in case it rained. He knew better than to think that Walmart had it, but he tried anyway.
He did see Afro Samurai tho… He picked it up as Rafa approached him with a toy xylophone and a big grin.
Puerto Rico did something to all of you. It was like some weird no inhibitions pollen or something. When you stepped off the plane you decided to not overthink shit. You were just going to respond naturally, fuck the consequences.
This was your weekend, after all.
You walked into the entertainment section and heard some vaguely familiar music. As you got closer, you realized what it was.
Daveed was in the book section rapping “Rubber Duckie” as Rafa played a toy xylophone.
I got my rubber duckie
I'm in the tub with bubblies
He isn't very fuzzy
I know my duckie loves me
Call up my homie Ernie,
You know the orange one, ya heard me
D was going in, being silly and laughing with his bestie. He was fucking adorable. You grinned at them and turned down the dvd aisle.
“I can’t believe they don’t have Cowboy Bebop.”
You shook your head as Daveed and Rafa walked up and flanked you at the display, a shopping cart by Daveed’s side.
“It’s a classic. Children will be referencing the War on Titan and it's after effects a hundred years from now."
Rafa just nodded and stroked his chin, having enough sense to be quiet.
“Wait, Attack on Titan is right here Lindy…” Daveed reached for a dvd and held it up in front of you.
Rafa shook his head and covered it with his hand.
"Spike Spiegel wasn't in Attack on Titan. That's an entirely different anime series, my dude."
The sardonic wit in your voice. Daveed just nodded, face on the floor, and put the blu ray down.
You squinted at what D had in his hand.
"Afro Samurai is 20 years old as well. You know that and not Cowboy Bebop? You put shame on your house. Old Man.”
You gave him a sexy grin and sauntered away shaking your head.
Rafa had been watching the scene, head on a swivel. All he had to say after you left was, “Boom. Roasted.”
Daveed just chuckled, surprised and exhilarated at the same time. It seemed that you were up to letting loose a little bit.
He looked at Rafa who just watched Daveed falling. He couldn’t catch him this time.
"Man. Tonight looks like the beginning of an EPIC weekend,” Rafa said as he pushed some more dvds into Daveed’s cart.
Then he pulled a pack of Magnum XLs off the shelf that he had been hiding under his arm from you.
Daveed looked at him. Rafa stared back.
“What? All these beautiful women on this island. I’m not gonna be unprepared or take any chances.”
Daveed shook his head, grimaced and looked around to see where you went, but you were nowhere to be found.
You were busy eating some Hot Cheetos that you’d grabbed on the chip aisle and were turning down the candy aisle when you saw Grumpy Care Bear standing there with a basket full of food, dvds and shit, looking at some sour patch kids.
"Oh hell," you said as you turned right back around.
"Ay, yo. Lindy. You can get your candy. I'm not going to assault you with my inferior anime knowledge."
He laughed that sexy laugh and held up his hands. He sort of regretted calling you back because you walking away...Damn. Even in the Pikachu onesie.
Daveed continued to hold up his hands to show he didn't intend any harm, a smile on the lips that were your weakness earlier. Fuck me, you thought.
You smiled back at him and went for the Jelly Bellys. You crunched loudly on your Cheetos as you clocked him out on the low. You felt bad. A little.
"Look, I'm sorry about that in the dvds. I'm just passionate about what I like."
Daveed wondered if you liked him. Like liked him liked him. He allowed himself to go there.
You sucked the Cheeto dust off your fingers and it was making D feel some kinda way as he watched your fingers go in and out of your mouth. His eyes began to slide down your body.
He needed to stop. Daveed cleared his throat and looked at your face.
"No problem. I get it. It's all good."
Diggs unconsciously licked his lips and grinned, causing you to stare for a second at his casual hotness. This couldn't continue. You frowned.
Daveed sensed the change in mood, grabbed his Sour Patch kids and backed away.
“I’ll leave you to it.”
That was a close call you thought as you felt some weird pang of disappointment at him leaving. But it was what it was.
Soon enough, you all left the store. Rafa stole some of your Jelly Belly’s. You just handed over the pack to him and pulled out some more. You were prepared.
When the crew finally got to the house, you dropped your bags and ran to the beach, celebrating four days of freedom from work, acting, fame, fortune, and expectations.
After a few minutes of staring at the waves, y’all made your way back up to the house.
When you walked in before Jazzy turned the lights on, you recognized a large dark expanse which seemed to be the back wall. As your eyes got adjusted, you noticed the white rolls of the waves on the shore.
The back wall was floor to ceiling glass. When the lights came up, it turned into a mirror and 6 characters in onesies stared back at you.
You were at the back of an open concept space with a huge u-shaped sectional sofa and a beautiful, big kitchen with a bar.
Daaaammmmmmnnn! This place is gorgeous! Craig’s mouth was hanging open. You reached over and closed it.
“Welcome to our home away from home!” Anthony was bleary eyed and smiling wide.
He pointed to the right of the house.
“Me and Jazzy’s room is over there,” he then pointed to the right of the house.
“The birthday girl’s room is opposite over there, a mirror of the master,” then he pointed to the back of the house behind you and to the right, “and the other four bedrooms are here.”
Ant started pulling their luggage toward their room, talking over his shoulder.
“Everybody gets their own room, even me, when I fuck up.”
All of you cracked up laughing whole Jasmine nodded her head.
It was almost 4 am, so you all were tired. You gladly pulled your suitcase to your room, feeling grateful and warm for being the guest of honor of your friends. Your room was the bomb.
You walked into a spacious room with bamboo wood floors,and exposed wooden beam ceilings and several floor to ceiling windows. There was a huge fluffy white rug under a comfortable king sized bed in the middle of the room.
Two uniquely designed bamboo lounge chairs and white pillow ottomans faced a window where you could look through and see the pool and beach.
It was a luxury get away and right now, all you wanted was a shower and the bed.
You put your suitcase on the floor and got down and opened it. You shook your head at what you saw.
“HOLY FUCK GOT DAMN SHIT!!!!”
Daveed, Craig and Jasmine came running at your screams. Rafa and Ant were behind.
You were embarrassed. But so irritated.
“Craig. You got the wrong suitcase. This is Mark’s shit that he never came to get. None of my clothes are here. I have nothing to wear.” You felt like crying.
“I’m sorry Lindy, you said that your summer clothes and bathing suits were in the rolling soft Louis bag…”
I mean the large one. This is the medium one. It’s okay, Craig.
“You have nothing to wear hunh?”
Daveed was smirking at you and you ignored it, crossing your arms and tapping your foot.
“But it’s perfect!” You looked at Jasmine and her chipper British accent.
“We can go shopping for your birthday tomorrow. Treat yourself!”
You couldn’t help but smile at Jazzy’s happiness. She was right. Rafa and Ant went away and left y’all to that talk. Daveed was glued to his spot.
“OOooooh. Good Idea.” Craig was in.
“Ok.I’m tired as fuck. I just wanna shower and sleep now. I’ll not need anything tonight.
Daveed couldn’t get the image of you in the shower and naked in bed out of his head now. He cleared his throat.
“I can give you something to wear shopping tomorrow, Lindy.”
His voice was soft. You smiled at him and he was a goner.
“Man, you are like three times bigger than she is?” Jasmine didn’t understand.
“Hold up. Are you willing to sacrifice, D? Can we cut up one of your t-shirts and jeans?”
Daveed felt pain. The only t-shirts he had were Oaklandish.
“Let’s compromise. You can cut my jeans all you want, but not the shirt.”
Craig smiled wide. “Deal, if you throw in a belt.”
“Damn, Diggs…” was all that Jasmine said, smiling and shaking her head.
“Thank you Daveed. I appreciate it.” You were blown away.
Daveed played it off. “No problem…” And then he just turned around and walked out of your room.
“Girlllllllll!!!!” Craig and Jasmine squealed at you and it took you a minute to get them out of your room.
You walked into the en suite bathroom and marveled at its beauty. It was large, with a huge tub and a walk in glass encased shower with an overhead waterfall shower head.
You turned on the shower to get it hot, stripped off your onesie and your underwear, wrapped yourself in a towel and went back into the bedroom.
You stopped short, because there was Daveed standing in your room, clothes in hand.
He had immediately gone to find his least favorite jeans and the Oakland shirt that would suit you the best. He decided that you would look beautiful in blue.
You just in a towel was a sight to behold. He was sure that underneath that towel was paradise.
You stared at each other for a minute, Your eyes were glued to his.
“Th-thank you again Daveed.” He couldn’t discern if your hesitant, sexy voice was for him or from embarrassment.
“Sorry, I…. didn’t think you’d be… sorry.” He put his hands up and backed out of the room.
“Daveed.” You called, softly. “Stop.”
You approached him with a smile on your face. Daveed’s eyes were wide, not knowing what was going to happen.
“Thank you. I mean it.”
You stood on your tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, your lips lingering. Daveed closed his eyes and fought the urge to grab you and hold you close to him.
“You’re welcome.” His smile wrinkled his eyes as he smiled down at you.
“Goodnight, Linden. Have sweet dreams for me.”
You just stared at him as he turned and left the room.
Daveed was just outside your door when he heard your reply.
Read the Next Chapter.
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(Some) Greek Gods as Historical Figures
So some days ago I secretly logged back into Mythology and Cultures amino and I stumbled across post of casting historical figures as the gods from Greek mythology. Of course, I hated it, so I made my version of this.
Note: Of course, this is going to have quite a lot of Napoleonic figures, since I am more familiar of this period, but please do reblog this post (or tag me on another post) with the hashtag “#mythical figures as historical people” and add some more of your historical figure Greek God fancasts!
Note 2: this post is for entertaining purpose, and just me introducing some guys to y’all and I am not a historian myself and hopefully you all would still like my takes😅
1. Zeus - Louis XIV of France
First and foremost, I shall introduce the king of gods featured in Greco-Roman myths. You may ask, why don’t I cast Henry VIII of England? Well, my reason is very simple: Henry is far from accurate to Zeus in actual myths.
To be honest, Zeus has a more “absolute power” energy in it, and Louis XIV totally has rocked it (like that iconic line “l’état, c’est moi (I am the state)”). Well, Henry also has that kind of energy but everyone only remembers his six wives and the uncountable number of bloodshed (not to mention Catherine of Aragon is a much better fighter than him—got this from Horrible Histories OwO)... Anyways, Louis XVI is basically a Zeus.
2. Hera - Catherine of Aragon
This brings to Catherine of Aragon herself. She’s a total Q U E E N and if you have watched “Six” the musical you already got what I mean (like, being the wife who married to Henry the longest). There’s also the early warlike aspect in Hera (featured in Homer’s works) that Catherine has it as well (at least you know that she’s getting more victories than Henry if you have watched Horrible Histories season 6, in the episode with Rowan Atkinson playing Henry VIII (which is sad because I want Ben Willbond to play him—he iconic to the HH fandom)), making her a great casting of Hera.
Hera, in my opinion, is a very strong woman who has to take Zeus’s shit and I could totally understand why she took revenge on the girls that Zeus has slept with—but anyways, hopefully you guys would like it :3
3. Aphrodite - Pauline Bonaparte
This is half-self-explanatory, really—just look at that statue she posed as Venus, the Roman equivalent of Aphrodite.
Pauline was famed for her beauty in her time, also a big chunk of scandals from her affairs (which bugs her big brother Napoleon, a lot). Nevertheless, despite her big spending habits and a great sexual appetite, she always helped Napoleon in some surprising ways (like she sold her house in Paris to the Duke of Wellington to get the funds for Napoleon).
Just like Aphrodite herself, Pauline harnessed her beauty very well. Thus, I rest my case.
4. Apollo - Joachim Murat or Emperor Franz Joseph I of Austria
(Warning: long content ahead)
Firstly, let me briefly introduce them because you guys might not know them much.
Joachim Murat was a marshal of France, also one of Napoleon’s brother-in-law, grand duke of Berg and Cleves from 1806 to 1808 and the King of Naples from 1808 to 1815. After the wars, he attempted to escape yet was caught and executed in 1815 in Pizzo, Italy (if you have read of Alexandre Dumas’s “Famous Crimes” you might know him—by the way no one has cut his head off and sent it to that big nose King Ferdinand).
For those who have watched “Elisabeth” or the “Sissi” movies, you might know Franz Joseph I of Austria already but you might not know much about himself besides being the husband of the (in)famous Empress Sisi (ie. Empress Elisabeth of Austria). He was the Emperor of the Austria from 1848 to his death in 1916—one of the longest reigning European monarchs in history. During his reign, the empire had been through a lot of change, most notably, the creation of Austria-Hungary. Nevertheless, he was also the Emperor who started World War I and he died of old age in the midst of the Great War.
For Apollo, I’m not casting musicians because this is quite overdone. I rather want to shed a light to the other arts that he represented in Greco-Roman mythology. This makes me want to draw a parallel to Joachim Murat as he was also a great sucker of classical literature. Plus, he also was known to be a flamboyant dresser (his nickname was “the Dandy King” by the way), also the designer of the uniforms of the Neapolitan army (with an excessive amount of amaranth, perhaps his favourite colour). Really, everyone just sees him as a great flamboyant himbo but in reality, he’s iconically badass in the battlefield as the First Horseman of Europe. Well, also he’s known for being extremely good with women even though his wife Caroline was fierce as hell. So, in my opinion, he fits the image of Apollo that we know.
However, you guys might feel surprised why I picked Franz Joseph for Apollo. Well, he really... was a rather mediocre ruler in my opinion, and perhaps our most memorable image of him was the senile emperor who signed the declaration of war to Serbia. Nevertheless, he was a well-liked man among his subjects, at least to some old citizens of Austria-Hungary telling future generations. Besides, culture flourished in Vienna under his reign—with notable figures like Sigmund Freud, Ludwig Wittgenstein and Erwin Schrödinger. Despite the series of unfortunate events which made the empire started to crumble, Austria-Hungary arguably has its cultural importance in Europe. Sounds like what Apollo would do if he’s a ruler, somehow.
Well, enough of his political achievements, let’s talk about his private life... which was probably the actual reason why I picked him.
Enter Duchess Elisabeth in Bavaria, the Empress of Austria and Queen of Hungary, also known as Sisi.
On a side note, Marshal Louis-Alexandre Berthier of France, Prince of Neufchâtel and of Wargram, was Empress Sisi’s grand-uncle in-law via his marriage to Duchess Maria Elisabeth in Bavaria
Absolutely love Pia as Elisabeth in the musical so please don’t mind me using a gif from this :3￼ ((also, “Elisabeth” spoiler alert
Franz originally was to marry her sister Helene (nicknamed Néné), nevertheless, on the first meeting in Bad Ishl, he has fallen for the young Elisabeth, head over heels—making him defying his domineering mother, Archduchess Sophie, for the very first time. Elisabeth also liked him and ￼did not expressed her refusal either, so they got married in St. Augustine’s Church in 29th April, 1854.
However, the marriage was not well. Sisi was not accustomed to the strict Austrian court especially Archduchess Sophie (also she was not really a fan of intimacy). Poor Franz was rather helpless in situations between his mother and his wife, and eventually, Sisi chose her freedom over her duty as Empress, traveling around the world. They two briefly went back together during the Austro-Hungarian compromise, yet she was constantly not there. Eventually, Sisi was assassinated by an anarchist named Luigi Lucheni during her stay in Geneva, Switzerland, and Franz was devastated over her death (“she will never know how much I love her”).
To Franz, he loved her so, but he really didn’t understand her needs. Even though he had countless mistresses and female companions in Vienna, he still missed his wife. I say, he was really unlucky when it comes to love. Like Apollo himself, he dated countless nymphs and humans, but a lot of his notable relationships did not have a good end. (Probably Cyrene was the most lucky one, yet she also has chosen to be left alone after mothering several children with Apollo.) For this, I picked Franz Joseph as Apollo.
5. Ares - Jean Lannes or Michel Ney
As usual, for those who don’t know much history, I shall briefly introduce my babeys these two great soldiers.
Jean Lannes was one of the marshals of Napoleon, known for being one of Napoleon’s closest friends and his fiery personality, and is considered one of the best marshals of the 1st French Empire. His finest moments including the Battle of Ratisbon in which he led his men to storm the well-guarded city with ladders (hence his nickname “ladder lord” in our very humble Napoleonic marshalate fandom :3). Sadly, he died of the wound he received in the battle of Aspern-Essling in 1809.
Michel Ney was also one of the marshals of Napoleon, known for his extreme valour (yep, he is known as the “Bravest of the Brave”). As you might know, he was one of the marshals who was in Waterloo, yet, his finest hour was during the retreat from Russia in the disasterous 1812. Sadly, he was arguably the most prominent victim of the White Terror under the second Bourbon restoration, executed in 1815 (**I am not accepting any kind of conspiracy theories of my babey survived and died in America😤).
Speaking of Ares, I have a lot of things to say (that’s my dad ;-; no jkjk). He is really not that bloodthirsty idiot who casually hates humans. Well, he’s more like a fiery dork and a man who was very faithful to his lovers, and fights very well (by the way also one of the best dads). So, the bois that come into my mind are automatically two of the most courageous marshals of France.
Lannes, if I have to get him a godly parent, it would definitely Ares. He resembled the god a lot (also I sometimes imagined Ares as a smol bean with dark hair), probably looks the most like Ares himself. He got that fiery temper, that faithfulness to his wife Louise, also being a very courageous fighter in the field—well he literally was like, “NO LEMME STORM DAT CITY *grabs ladder*”.
There you have it, my big bro our ladder lord Jean Lannes who can pull off a perfect Ares.
Ney is like a slightly introverted (and mature) version of an Ares person. You can guess his temper already through his famed auburn hair, and indeed despite his shy exterior his temper sometimes was a bit explosive, and a bit impatient (which was somehow one of his fatal flaws). He was a great fighter, known as a skilled swordsman in his youth. And you all know how brave he is in his famed epithet. Michel Ney is purely badass (and C U T E) you know (and he needs a lot of hugs because he has really been though a lot in the wars, and was a possible case of PTSD which was shown in his arguably suicidal behaviour during the battle of Waterloo). That’s why I casted him as the Greek god Ares OwO
And there you have it, my interpretations on the Greek gods via people in history. I originally would like to include more but somehow I realised that I have written too much about my picks. So, if you want to add more, reblog this post or tag me on the post you made on this topic (and please use the hashtag “mythical figures as historical people” so that I could look into your choices via the search bubble on this app🥺).
Last but not the least, I hope you all lovelies like this, also have learnt something new via my brief introductions on some historical people. Have a great day!
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Liquid Hearts | The Mandalorian x Reader pt. 7 finale
It's the end! This is the last chapter in this series, I hope y'all have enjoyed the entire thing thus far. I hope you think this end is satisfying, sorry if this chapter is so much shorter than the other ones. I hope you enjoy! 🥰
Word count: 2.6k
Warnings: fluff, so many feelings, arguing, canon divergence, more fluff, hints at past abuse, Din is adorable when nervous
Din’s jaw dropped under his helmet. The Supreme Chancellor’s daughter. How was that even possible? This entire time he’d been traveling with an extremely powerful and important person and he hadn’t even known it. “That makes sense,” he heard Cara say from behind him. Din walked over to Y/N. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She sighed. “It wasn’t important and I was trying to stay away, to be invisible,” she answered. “I left the Rebellion just before the war ended. I was tired of it. Tired of being held hostage, tired of being protected and treated like an object of power.”
“My husband was an X-Wing pilot, I married him right after my mother said it was ok if we left the rebel cause. I never turned my back on them, never betrayed them. But I hated being in the spotlight, having to give orders, having to kill, having to tell families that their loved ones had died in combat,” tears accumulated in her eyes again. “I could only live that life for so long.”
Din wasn’t mad at her, how could he be? He realized now that the past she didn’t want to tell him about had been riddled with hurt and abuse. He understood now.
“Fett should be here soon and I’ll be gone,” Fennec said. She walked to Din and Y/N. “I hope everything works out,” she said to Din. “Thank you, Fennec,” Y/N said, “for helping rescue me and my daughter.” Fennec nodded to her and left the bridge. “What now?” Koska asked. “We wait, until the New Republic arrives and we sort everything out,” Bo-Katan answered her.
It was a tense hour and a half until the New Republic X-Wing transports showed up. Luke hopped back in his X-Wing and helped escort the light cruiser to the nearest habitable planet with a suitable secluded spot where they could land. The X-Wings landed first, their pilots exited the craft and waited.
Y/N came out of the light cruiser with Din, Cara, Koska, and Bo-Katan all behind her. Din had offered to carry Mandi for her while she did official business. Y/N greeted Carson and Trapper beside their X-Wings. “So how have you boys been?” “Getting old,” Carson replied. Y/N laughed, “it’s good to see you both again.” Carson put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry about your husband,” he said. Y/N smiled sadly and nodded. “The Chancellor is on her way here, she should arrive in a few minutes,” he said.
“She’s coming in person?” Y/N questioned. “Of course she is, she hasn’t seen her daughter in four years,” Trapper put in. Within a few minutes a large New Republic transport landed. Several armed guards and security exited the craft first and stood at attention. Then Mon Mothma herself came out of the craft. She looked at her daughter and saw the turmoil in her eyes, walking towards Y/N with her arms open. Y/N ran into her mother’s arms, hugging her tight.
“I missed you, my dear,” she said. “I missed you too, mama,” Y/N replied. They pulled away and Mon Mothma pushed Y/N’s hair out of her face. “I’m so sorry about Aogen, I heard what happened,” Mothma said. “Are you doing alright?” Y/N nodded and smiled sadly, “I’m getting there.” Mothma cupped her daughter’s cheek. “Last I heard, you were only weeks away from your due date. I haven’t seen my grandchild yet.”
Y/N smiled and turned around, motioning for Din to bring Mandi over. He hesitantly approached with Mandi in his arms and Grogu in the shoulder bag. Y/N took the baby from him and placed her in her grandmother’s arms. “This is your granddaughter, Mandi,” Y/N said. The older woman smiled and cooed over the baby. “How old is she now?” “A little under three weeks,” Y/N answered. “She seems like a healthy, happy young one,” Mothma stated. “We have this Mandalorian to thank for that,” Y/N said motioning to Din. “He delivered her, and has been helping me take care of her ever since.”
Din flushed under his helmet, not used to the attention and he wasn’t sure if he liked it. “You have my deepest thanks, for protecting both of them,” Mothma told Din. He wasn’t sure how to respond. “Um, it was my pleasure,” he managed to say. She handed Mandi back to Y/N. “I hate to have to talk business but you said you captured Moff Gideon,” she said. “Not me,” Y/N said. She turned around and faced the others that came with her. “They did, plus a couple others that couldn’t stay for the festivities.”
Mon Mothma addressed the three women and Din. “You all have my utmost thanks and the thanks of the New Republic,” she looked back at Y/N. “Where do you have him?” Y/N smiled and jerked her head towards Cara. “New Republic Marshal Dune will lead you to him.” Cara smirked as Mothma told a few guards to go with Cara to get Gideon. “I will address the situation of Mandalore with the other two later, they have been on the radar for sometime, I will work something out with them,” Mothma ensured.
Luke approached and the Chancellor greeted him. “What was your issue with Luke this time?” Mothma asked her daughter. Y/N got a determined expression on her face. “He wants to take this child away from his father,” Y/N answered. She pointed to Grogu, who looked up at the strangers with curious eyes. “He must be trained or he will continuously be at risk,” Luke said. “Fine, but can Mando at least be allowed to visit your school and see his son, you can’t take him away forever!” Y/N protested.
Luke thought for a moment. “I suppose that could be an option,” he said. “Anytime he wants, they’re extremely attached to each other, and the kid only listens to Mando anyway,” Y/N added. “I can agree with these terms,” Luke said with a nod. “Does that sound good to you, Mando?” Y/N asked Din. He looked between the three expectant faces all waiting for an answer from him. “I just want the kid to be safe,” he said. “Very well, perhaps you would like to visit when the school is finally finished,” Luke offered. “Then you could see your little one in action.”
Din nodded slowly. “I’d like that.” Luke nodded respectfully to Din. “We have one more thing to discuss,” Mothma said. “This Mandalorian hasn’t exactly had pleasant run-ins with the New Republic recently.” Din sighed, there had to be a catch. Y/N stood tall. “I will take on any lawful repercussions that he may have warranted,” Y/N announced. Din looked between Y/N and her mother. “No,” he said, putting his arm around Y/N’s back. “I can’t let you do that for me. You already let yourself get captured and tortured by the Imps.” “I know, and you saved me, so we’re even,” Y/N said. “Now I’m doing this for you, so-”
“No, I can take responsibility for my own choices,” Din said, taking her hand. “That won’t be necessary,” Mothma interrupted. She called to someone behind her who walked over. “See that this Mandalorian’s criminal record gets wiped clean.” Y/N and Din exchanged glances. “You have done a great service to the New Republic today, it’s the least we can do for you,” the Chancellor said. Y/N got excited and wrapped Din into a tight hug. He chuckled and hugged her back. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some other Mandalorians to talk to.”
It took a couple weeks to sort everything out. The New Republic had promised to help Bo-Katan any way they could although it looked bleak. Y/N hid the Darksaber on the ship they were taking back to Trask to pick up a couple other Mandalorians. Din was given plenty of time to say goodbye to Grogu and even flew him to Luke’s Jedi school on Ach-To to drop him off. Y/N had come with and Luke took them both on a tour. They decided to stay the night and Din found Y/N away from everyone else, sitting on a rock and watching the sunset.
“Can I join you?” Y/N smiled. “Of course.” Din took a seat next to her and stared out at the water. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was initially,” she said. “It’s ok, I understand why you did,” Din replied. “I’m still sorry, that I was such a burden, that I dragged you into the whole New Republic mess, I know I-” “Hey,” Din put his hand on her knee. “You weren’t a burden, not at all. In fact….I enjoyed our time...together.” She smiled at him again, “As did I.” Y/N took his hand off her knee and held it in her hands. “Mando, I...I meant what you saw me say when I was taken,” She stuttered. “I know you may not feel the same way, but I have to get this out. I love you.”
She looked out at the setting sun. “I thought it was wrong at first, my husband hasn’t been gone that long but it….I’ve never felt this way before, and…” she trailed off. Din shucked off his gloves and couldn’t resist reaching over to cup her cheek and turn her head to look at him. “Y/N I….I love you too.” He sighed shakily, might as well let it all out. “I’ve tried to deny it, tell myself it wasn’t real, but I’ve never felt anything like I do when I’m around you. You’re so good with both the kids and you’re such a strong person…”
Y/N smiled and leaned over to him, pressing a kiss to the cheek of his helmet. “I know that’s as close as I’ll ever get to you, but that’s ok. I love you regardless and I always will, you’ve done more for me in a matter of weeks than anyone has in my whole life. Thank you for that.” Din's heart rate sped up as he thought of an idea. “That’s not exactly true,” he said. “Family members can see my face, I..I let Grogu see me just before I let him go with Luke. And Mandi saw me without it by accident.”
Y/N laughed, a heavenly sound that Din thought could drive away any bad weather. “What do you mean on accident?” Din sighed. “The first night on that frozen planet, while you were sleeping she woke up so I took her up into the cockpit with me and got her back to sleep, I was eating and bumped my helmet and woke her up. I picked her up to calm her down and she opened her eyes,” he explained. Y/N giggled again. “No wonder she thought you were her father, you were the first male face she saw.”
Din chuckled and took a deep breath, standing up and pulling Y/N with him. “I...I want to show you…” She shook her head. “If you don’t feel comfortable then don’t, I’m not pushing you to-” “I want to,” Din said. He slowly placed both hands on his helmet and lifted it off his head. Awe was written all over her face as she looked at him. “Stars, you...you’re beautiful…” she breathed. Din blushed and looked at the ground. She cupped his cheeks in her hands and made him look at her. “Would you look at that, I’ve fallen in love with the most stunning being in the whole galaxy.”
“You, you’re stunning too,” he said, still blushing. “Yes, most beautiful..” It was Y/N’s turn to blush now. “You’re too sweet, Mando,” she said. “Din,” he corrected. “My name is Din.” She smiled. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any better,” she mused. “What happens now?” He sighed, setting his helmet on the ground and taking both her hands in his. “I know we haven’t known each other for long but I’ve been all over the galaxy, met all kinds of people and I’ve never known anyone who makes me feel the way you do. I don’t want to pass it up and never have the chance again..”
“Neither do I,” she agreed. “What do you say? Together from here on out?” He nodded. “Yes, I’m not losing you again.” Y/N smiled up at him as happy tears welled in her eyes. “Can I kiss you, Din?” A smile came to his face, “yes.” Y/N leaned up and her lips met with his in a passionate kiss. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he pulled her closer by her waist. They stayed connected for as long as they could go without air before reluctantly breaking apart. Their foreheads rested against each other, basking in their newfound love. Din quietly asked her a question.
Four years later…
Mandi bounded off the Razor Crest, her bare feet touching down on Ach-To’s lush grasses. She ran up the hill and searched through the groups of children in Jedi training, looking for her older brother. She spotted him with a group of other children, practicing their levitation. “Grogu!” She called out. She ran as fast as her little legs could carry her over to her brother, greeting him with a hug which he returned. “Mandi!” He gurgled happily. The little girl was now taller than Grogu despite the fact that he had been growing.
“Mandi!” She looked over her shoulder to see her father walking with her mother. “Don’t disturb them while they're training, you can wait,” he called. Luke came out of a nearby hut, smiling at his visitors. “It’s quite alright, Mandi. They can have a break,” Luke assured her. Mandi took Grogu’s hand and the children wandered off together. Luke strode over to Din and Y/N. “I see a lot has happened since I last saw you both,” he remarked. “Only ever good things,” Y/N said, rocking the newborn in her arms. He looked more like Din than Mandi did. Luke placed a gloved hand on the baby’s head.
“It’s been a bit of a wild ride,” Din said with a smile, “she went into labor early again.” Luke watched as their child slowly woke up and looked around. “What’s his name?” Din and Y/N exchanged glances. “Mar’eyce,” Din answered. “It’s Mando’a for discovery, and finding a state of heaven,” Y/N added. “He’s a result of the heaven we found with each other.” Luke smiled and looked back down at the little one. “A perfect name.” He let the baby clamp onto his finger and Luke’s brow furrowed for just a moment, something Din noticed. “What is it?”
Luke chuckled. “You two are going to have your hands full,” he said. “This little one is Force sensitive as well.” Y/N’s jaw dropped and she laughed. Din was shocked. “How do you know?” “I can feel it, most likely Mandi and Grogu can as well. Mar’eyce is strong with the Force,” Luke informed. “Stars, you’re potent,” Y/N joked, slapping Din’s chest plate. “Hey, hey,” he admonished lightly. “We’re in public.” Luke smiled at them. “I’d best find where Mandi and Grogu ran off too, he will be eager to help teach her how to levitate things.”
Luke left Din and Y/N and the woman laughed. “What’s so funny, my love?” Din asked. “We are outnumbered by Force sensitive children, this’ll be fun.” Din put his arm around her and held her close to him, smoothing his hand over his biological son’s little head.
“Yes, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
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Why I love Blackbeard - One Piece Discussion | Supernova Ken
Marshall D. Teach has to be one of the most well written characters in the history of Shonen. At the very least, within the One Piece story itself I find him to be one of Oda’s most compelling individuals; and the fact that we know mostly nothing about him adds even more to the thrill and suspense that we are sure to get when his character arc and background is finally presented.
We all see him as the perfect antithesis to Luffy but have we really appreciated what that fully means. With the details Oda has given us so far I'd like to argue that Blackbeard's journey is the better story of ambition and reckless luck when compared to the journey of our protagonists’.
It’s common for fans to think that Teach is a master tactician, lying idle on Whitebeard's ship with plans to betray him and eventually work his way up to getting the Gura Gura no Mi for himself, an everything was triggered with Thatch’s discovery of the Yami Yami no Mi. But i feel this gives too much credit to his forward thinking ability; whenever the question of the smartest one piece character is brought up i’m not sure Oda has ever hinted at Blackbeard being anywhere near that list. To be Luffy’s antithesis, he needs to be just like Luffy while at the same time being his complete opposite, and this is where his drive and decision making come into play.
Saying all his actions were part of some master plan is like saying Luffy’s actions were also. Luffy defeated Arlong to gain notoriety and a 30M Berri bounty, planned to be acknowledged by bounty hunters at Whisky Peak to show his toughness to Vivi and Igaram, this would put him in striking position of the head of Baroque Works who Luffy knew was Oka Shichibukai Sir Crocodile and give him the Devil Child Nico Robin, reader of the Polyglyphs. Master Plan to become King of the Pirates phase one complete.
Sounds ridiculous right, that’s my argument when it comes to Teach. Hear me out as I map out Teach’s mindset and how he really got to his position as an Emperor of the sea through his unshakable will (of D.) and mastery of opportunistic decision making.
Blackbeard only wanted the Yami Yami no Mi initially. If he had found it first he would’ve just eaten it and possibly left WBs crew amicably. (I do question if he would have the idea to kill WB on his own to get the Gura Gura). There would have been no reason to kill Thatch and be chased across the Grand Line as a traitor so I’d say he joined the WB pirates in the same way as the rest of the crew, with a deep love and respect for his Pops. This didn’t change at all in the 20+ years he spent on the ship, but his fierce ambition pushed him to do something drastic when he saw an opportunity was about to be lost to him forever.
It might even be that Thatch already ate the Devil Fruit and killing him was the only way to get it back as we’ve learnt more recently in the series Blackbeard understands this secret. This would explain the vague line Oda gave us of ‘the one who found the fruit could eat it’, even if that’s a ship rule there’s nothing stopping him from stealing it and running away like he ends up doing, so Thatch’s death must’ve been a requirement.
He didn’t plan to become a warlord but saw an opening when Crocodile lost his position and figured the freedom to move when you have that title would be helpful (i.e. no plan to attack impel down and free prisoners at this point). There were no openings before Luffy defeated Crocodile and if he had really wanted the position as part of some master plan, he would have propositioned the government by showing what he could do the same way Law did with the Rocky Port incident.
To become a warlord he originally wanted to capture Luffy as he was the rookie that brought Crocodile down and this was a first for the World Government, so they’d happily give the position to him if he can get rid of the Luffy problem.
When he missed Luffy at Jaya he still planned to pursue him to get the position but Ace caught up to him at this point, he even invited Ace to join his crew so didn’t plan to capture him at first until he realised there was no other way but to battle him. Rather than kill him he used it as his buy in to become a Warlord. Up onto this point, all his actions have been heavily circumstance based, and Teach is just a master at exploiting the circumstances put in front of him.
Without Ace’s planned execution I doubt Blackbeard would have attempted to raid Impel Down as even before he arrived he knew of the danger Magellan presented; he saw an opportunity in the Marines preparing to battle WB at Marineford so the prison would have less support available. Now his position as a Warlord will help him get to the door without question so the idea to break a few inmates out hit him.
Even showing up at Marineford was him improvising. He couldn’t have known how the war was going til he got there and even if he did, Ace and Whitebeard were on the verge of getting away. He probably only planned as far ahead as attacking the losing side rather than gaining the Gura Gura. If WB got away he would have attacked the Marines potentially or given up altogether and ran the other way. Even after taking WBs fruit he had no idea how to escape, was ready to battle the WB pirates and the Marines there and then which I don’t think that crew would’ve been able to handle at that stage; luckily Shanks stopped the war.
I would say from that we know enough to say he’s never been planning anything. Him joining WBs crew as an orphan was just as innocent as Marco joining. This is what makes him so compelling, if Luffy were in the same position we know everything would go very differently. Blackbeard the ultimate One Piece character.
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Western nuclear testing in the Pacific, and in particular the French programme, which stretched across three decades (1966–96), has generated protest movements and literatures that – in keeping with Hauʻofa’s model – transcend imposed colonial divisions in the Pacific by fostering regional solidarity. [...]
Gorodé is a significant figure to consider within this context of transoceanic anti-nuclear protest, as like many Indigenous Pacific women she has been closely involved in the Nuclear Free and Independent Pacific Movement. She was also one of the founders of Groupe 1878 (a Kanak independence movement named after a 19th-century Indigenous uprising against French colonial rule), and when she was jailed in Camp-Est prison (in Noumea) for “disturbing the peace” during a 1974 sit-in at local law courts, she wrote two anti-nuclear poems: “Clapotis” (“Wave Song”) and “Zone Interdite” (“Forbidden Zone”). As the title of “Clapotis” (which could be translated more literally as “the lapping of water”) suggests, imagery of the sea is central to the poem, which begins by contrasting the sere, inhospitable environment of the prison exercise yard with the plentitude and dynamism of the sea beyond the prison walls.
Anticipating Hauʻofa’s model of an interconnected Oceania, Gorodé posits the movement of the waves as conveying ripples of protest from Oceania’s easternmost island, Rapanui, against the violence of the Chilean political regime that holds jurisdiction over “Easter Island”, and subsequently bearing witness to the nuclear violence “infecting the sky” over Moruroa. The wave also holds the potential to “carry” Indigenous Pacific peoples forward in their resistance to imperialism, gathering and imparting radical energies through its transoceanic trajectories [...].
Thus the poem establishes what Édouard Glissant terms a “poetics of relation”, a referential system that, rather than remaining rooted in individual national contexts, engages in a horizontal, transoceanic dialogue with other cultures, languages and value systems in its critique of colonialism (Glissant 1997, 44–46). Glissant’s theory (which takes the Caribbean as its main point of reference) is comparable to Hauʻofa’s in positing the sea as a basis for elaborating a regional, interpelagic identity, and as Elizabeth DeLoughrey has noted, Edward Kamau Brathwaite’s concept of tidalectics (another Caribbean theoretical model) is also a productive paradigm for analysing the “cyclic” ebb and flow of the Pacific, and of the diasporic populations that have moved across and within it [...].
Notably, Gorodé’s “Wave Song” extends its poetics of relation not just to francophone and hispanophone cultures elsewhere in Oceania, but also to the internal politics of Chile in the 1970s, making reference to the deposing of Salvador Allende’s [...] government and the torture and murder of left-wing activists [...]. Chile’s internecine violence, enacted on its own nationals, is shown to be redolent of its colonial conquest of Easter Island/Rapa Nui, and resonates, in a tidalectic pattern of ebb and flow, with the waves of French colonial violence rippling out from New Caledonia, via French Polynesia, towards the easternmost point of Oceania and back again.
In an effort to transcend these [colonial, Euro-American-imposed] divisions, in the 1990s Hauʻofa produced a series of influential essays advocating a new regional “Oceanic” politico-ideological identity that would not only help unite and protect Pacific Islanders against the vicissitudes of global capitalism and climate change (a significant consideration given that Pacific Islanders are among the earliest casualties of rising sea levels, as well as suffering the long-term effects of nuclear imperialism), but could also serve as a source of inspiration to contemporary Pacific artists and creative writers (see Hauʻofa 2008). Hauʻofa’s model acknowledges the complex and interweaving local, regional and global networks that shape the lives of contemporary Pacific peoples [...].
When Algeria gained its independence from France in 1962, France was forced to end its nuclear testing programme in what is now the Algerian Sahara, and chose French Polynesia as its new testing site, establishing facilities on two atolls in the Tuamotu Island group: Fangataufa and Moruroa [...]. As knowledge of the adverse impact of French nuclear testing became more widely publicized in the 1970s, increasing numbers of newly independent Pacific island nations (as well as settler and Indigenous communities in Australia and New Zealand) expressed vigorous opposition to the tests. [...] [I]n the ensuing years the movement intersected with other campaigns against large-scale military manoeuvres, the testing of intercontinental ballistic missiles at Kwajalein in the Marshall Islands, test bombing at Kahoʻolawe Island in Hawaiʻi, the mining of uranium in Australia, and the dumping of radioactive waste in the Pacific by Japan [...].
While such events created severe schisms between the nuclear powers and white settler nations [”New Zealand”] in the Pacific, they also prompted Indigenous Pacific peoples to unite against the nuclear desecration of their homelands, triggering affiliations that transcended the geopolitical and linguistic divides that often hamper creative dialogue between, for example, anglophone and francophone [...] writers. (This has particular significance given that it was the French explorer Dumont d’Urville who devised the tripartite geocultural division between Polynesia, Melanesia and Micronesia that still operates to this day [see Dumont D’Urville 1832].)
Maori artist Ralph Hotere, for example, made a significant gesture of solidarity with French Polynesians in his “Black Rainbow” series of lithographs and paintings produced in 1986, lamenting not just the bombing of the Rainbow Warrior, but also the French nuclear testing programme that continued in the wake of the attack. Hotere’s work inspired Samoan author Albert Wendt (1992) to write a dystopian novel, also entitled Black Rainbow, which establishes a homology between nuclear testing and other forms of environmental degradation and exploitation as a result of European incursion into the Pacific [...].
Michelle Keown. “Waves of destruction: Nuclear imperialism and anti-nuclear protest in the indigenous literatures of the Pacific.” Journal of Postcolonial Writing. February 2019.
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Southern Discomfort, Campaign Of Terror, & World Tour
I think all of those seem fine for a big title. Because I finally decided to check out these other Mask comic series videos done by Self Pity Entertainment. I basically had a marathon.
I’m gonna talk about all three.
1. Southern Discomfort. I genuinely liked this story. I was gonna put the big easy in the title. While I do think it’s not as good as The Hunt For Green October. It wasn’t a bad story. It felt more simple strangely. It was the most entertaining out of the three comic series I watched/read. Particularly because of as always, Big Head.
Again, not as good as the others. I can understand more why the comics didn’t become as good as the originals. And...I could be wrong...are these the comics that hinted the comics mask was made from voodoo....
Wow...the mask itself is still ambiguous. Unless there’s something else I need to see. But wow.
2. Walter Campaign Of Terror. I remember watching the first video of the first issue, and didn’t finish the second. This was a fine series too. I think the strongest point about it was Walter himself. I was actually predicting from what I read and knew. I like Walter as a character, he’s very simple to get, and he’s such a force to be reckoned with. But I loved how this showcase how more intelligent he really was. Even when he can’t speak.
I’ve been so distracted by other villains. I forget Walter is basically the OG of other villains that aren’t Big Head related. He’s strangely a unique character I like. It’s cool he got his own series.
3. The Mask World Tour. To be honest, while I was entertained at times. Again, mainly because of Big Head. But reading these felt weird because I didn’t know these other Dark Horse characters. Yet it’s just entertaining to see a living cartoon character interact with other unique characters.
In a nutshell, issue 2 was my favorite. Especially because of the ending. That shit was perfect.
If I recall, I think I decided to finally watch these after learning about who Marshal Law was because of some crossover art on DeviantArt.
Anyway, these were good to enjoy. Glad I watched these videos. I think I enjoyed Southern Discomfort the most because of it’s premise. But also because of my nostalgia for things like Werewolf Of Fever Swamp, and just other little things.
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The Fugitive by Nichole Severn - A Review
The Fugitive by Nichole Severn – A Review
The Fugitive is the story of Raleigh Wilde, who is on the run. Hot on her heels is deputy US Marshal Beckett Foster, who wants to bring her to justice.
I’m so thankful for being a part of the Syndicate! It gave me the opportunity to start my New Year with not one, but two of my favourite author’s books!
My Rating: 5/5Genre: Romantic SuspensePages: 166 (Kindle)Publisher: Harlequin IntrigueDate…
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