The dark soft languages are being silenced: Mothertongue Mothertongue Mothertongue falling one by one back into the moon. Language of marshes, language of the roots of rushes tangled together in the ooze, marrow cells twinning themselves inside the warm core of the bone: pathways of hidden light in the body fade and wink out.
The sibilants and gutturals, the cave language, the half-light forming at the back of the throat, the mouths damp velvet moulding the lost syllable for “I” that did not mean separate, all are becoming sounds no longer heard because no longer spoken, and everything that could once be said in them has ceased to exist.
Margaret Atwood, from “Marsh Languages,” Morning in the Burned House (Houghton Mifflin, 1995)
Wow, Molly’s style at Rosamund’s baptism is… gorgeous, flashy and flowery… Just like at John & Mary’s wedding, but more red. (Red = warning? Danger? Seduction? Lady in Red? => what is Molly’s role? Mirror or protagonist? Good or evil? Team Sherlock or Team Mary?)
I believe the flowers on Molly’s dress are either hibiscus roses or amaryllis (or maybe azalea?).
@isitandwonder mentioned the possibility of a nasturtium, but I believe this flower is way to tiny to match? I might be wrong, though?
Interestingly, the name comes from Greek “hibiskos.” The flowers received their name from Pedanius Dioscorides, a Roman botanist, but also a doctor in the Roman army (John Watson, hello). Molly as a mirror for John in the scene?
The symbolism behind the flower:
Often symbolises young women. (Young women + red = seduction => lesbian Molly? Mirroring same-sex attraction from John?)
In Victorian times, hibiscus was a symbol of delicate beauty, but a red hibiscus also conveyed “consumed by love”. (especially since Molly’s hair is wrapped in red?)
Molly is consumed by love for Mary (esp. as the hibiscus is also the Chinese rose)? or Greg => remember their interactions at the wedding? Molly’s intense love parallels John’s passion (both carry red flowers on them).
Hibiscus is also known as rose mallow. “Mallow” is a type of sweets/candy. Parallel for the Hansel&Gretel case in TRF?
Molly could potentially be the one providing belladonna, either to help Sherlock or help Mary poisoning John/Sherlock. I believe Molly might play a bigger role in series 4, and her loyalty could be questioned. Btw, Molly is in Sherlock’s mind palace, and we know Sherlock experiences problems within his MP and mind… She could seen on screen as the “virus in the data”.
Molly also has been a powerful mirror for John. As explained here, the red amaryllis is a symbol of passionate love.The legend behind the flower could point out to a Three Garridebs moment => John sacrificing himself for Sherlock (to Mary’s gun?), voluntarily “piercing his heart” for his lover, showing him he truly loves him (not Mary). This sacrifice would push Sherlock to act on his own love and declare himself, effectively healing John’s wounded heart and his own.
The sacrifice theory also applies to Molly => she is seen crying with her mouth on a woman’s hand (Mary?). Molly could sacrifice herself, showing her true affection and loyalty, possibly to Mary.
Red azalea, a more questionable choice
The azalea could also match John’s pocket square.
The plant was thought to be reserved and self-managed by British gardeners, so it became associated with temperance in Victorian floriography (emotional evenness). “Stay in control of your emotions”. => both Molly & John reminding themselves to repress their love for Mary/Sherlock at the ceremony?
The red shade leans towards a romantic meaning. For azalea: a developing passion, abundance of beauty, intelligence and elegance. Molly acting on her developing passion for Mary or Lestrade? Mirroring John’s move towards Sherlock? The two take delicate steps while their relationship slowly evolves?
Linked to the rhododendron => Mary’s threat. The flower is toxic and poisonous; in a black vase, can be a death threat. Molly playing a role in Mary’s plan against Sherlock/John? Molly being threatened (hence crying on Mary’s hand?)?
Flowers at the ceremony
I wonder how the flowers will be shown in the actual episode, but a couple of theories here:
Isn’t there shamrock-like figures on the stoup (on the right)? Shamrocks are a symbol of Ireland => Moriarty comes back? It makes sense, as he was at the wedding (”Ted & Stella”, CAM, the Mayfly Man). Btw, Jim is the abominable bride too. Mary = Jim?
I believe the white flowers could either be peonies or asters, possibly chrysanthemum.
Peonies are a symbol of anger, shame, bashfulness, as well as compassion; white peony is a way to express regret. “Claire de la lune”, Mary’s perfume is the name of a white peony. The Peony also takes its name from the Greek character Paeon, who studied with the god of medicine. John’s emotions => anger towards Mary, shame & bashfulness towards Sherlock?
Asters are a symbol of patience, fond remembrance, elegance; but also a way to represent afterthought (the wish things happened differently).
Chrysanthemum symbolises life and rebirth (esp the birth of a child), loyalty and devotion, recovery after a long trial.
We’ll know more when we see the actual baptism scenes, I believe.
Btw, I love how Mary is dressed all in white with hearts on her ears => overdoing the sweet facade a bit, isn’t she? It gives us a powerful contrast with Molly, who is almost like a bright red seducer (the Madonna & the whore? Molly paralleling Irene?). Also, it contrasts a lot with John’s outfit, mostly black with a white shirt and colourful pocket square. Mary is the only one in white (it’s the colour of mourning in China => Mary is often associated with China).
I can’t wait to see more of this! Loo is absolutely gorgeous and the scenes look full of symbolism!
Speaking of symbols, @just-sort-of-happened, don’t you just love that Mrs Hudson’s outfit is full of circles? :)
Mokuba taps his pen on his desk, staring attentively at the teacher. He isn’t being of course, but it’s helpful to look like he is. He’s drafting an email to Duel Disk R&D in his head. Trying to come up with a plausible excuse for why they woke up this morning with their access to the Grade 5 Testing Facility revoked. Something other than ‘sorry but the facility disappeared along with the CEO and what you’re actually seeing is a massive hard light hologram which could well short circuit any moment because this isn’t what it’s designed for’.
The heavy late-winter rain drums on the window, masking the sound of his left hand tapping out the email under the desk.
He pretends he’s Seto of course. He’s had more than enough practice that it’s indistinguishable most of the time. Nothing causes a drop in stock faster than ‘the CEO has literally vanished’. Besides, people take him more seriously as Seto. Partly his fault for being a bit more spirited than his brother, partly their mistake. Seto plays on making people think he’s all-powerful, whereas he uses their underestimation of him. It makes them an amazing team.
He sends it. It doesn’t really explain anything, but then his brother wouldn’t, so it should seem convincing at least.
“-leaving Persephone trapped in the underworld with Hades.”
He taps his pen harder and the girl at the desk in front of him turns and glares. He nods, with a look that doesn’t manage to make it to a smile, and stills, pressing it firmly into the table. It’s a blatant tell that he shouldn’t have at this age. He knows what Seto would say. That there are hundreds of influences on him every day, and statistically something is going to remind him of things he doesn’t want to think of, it doesn’t make it a sign, or mean that ‘the universe is out to get him’. But then Seto built a dimensional transporter to go and find a dead pharaoh he couldn’t stop thinking about so what the fuck would he know.
Mokuba puts the pen flat on the table with a snap. Better than throwing it across the room. Many times better than kicking over the desk and screaming, which is what he actually wants to do.
His phone buzzes in his hand. New text. Six new emails. His ears feel like they’re ringing. The sensation that there are too many thoughts in his brain, moving too fast. Cold sweat beading on his forehead. He hears Seto explaining about adrenaline responses and forces it away. Deep breaths.
Marcus moronically asking if it’s true, just to get a rise. It’s only been twenty minutes. He wants them to get it over with, get the lesson over with. Get the story over with. Unbidden, his mind races ahead, trying to recall anything he can about it.
She couldn’t come back. Persephone. That was the point right?
Not his brother though, his brother doesn’t understand that he ‘can’t’ do something as a matter of principle, and the universe therefore just has to move out of the way for him. The idea that Seto ‘couldn’t’ come back, he tells himself, doesn’t worry him. It doesn’t. It doesn’t.
His fingers are ice around the phone.
“Well there are many versions of the myths, so it is not right to say that there is one ‘true’ version. And in the context of a story, everything is true. In older versions of the tale, Persephone is older, a young woman out adventuring who finds herself trapped - not kidnapped,”
His jaw clenches.
“Or she heard the cries of the dead and walked freely into the Underworld,”
He can’t breathe.
“For every story where Persephone cannot return, there is another which says that she chose not to.”
He grabs his bag, shoves his things into it and stands up sharply, causing his chair to screech across the floor and his vision to darken at the edges. He hurries out the door with everyone staring at him. The teacher doesn’t call him back - perhaps thinks he’s going to be sick.
A/N: This season continuously hits me with MOM feels over and over again, and as soon as the episode was over, I had to write about it. I just want to hug Dean and Sam and tell them everything will be okay. I do not hate Mary and I do understand her position, so please do not take this as me disliking her. There are spoilers of 12x06 in this, so please don’t read any further if you don’t want it to be spoiled. Let me know what you think! ♥
Word Count: 1,745
*This is for @kittenofdoomage Classic Movie Quote Challenge, and my quote was ‘Why so serious?’ from The Dark Knight.
Warnings: - angst. - language.
Tags: (at the end)
*gifs are not mine.
She’d shown up again, their mother. Or at least, the ghost of what she once was. When she was around Sam and Dean were both more flighty, harder to read than normal. It was maddening. She was everything to them, and a complete stranger to you.
When she first left, you hated her; her leaving throwing Dean down a spiraling path he hadn’t traveled in a long time. Sam, he understood. He tried to explain to you in the best ways he could that she needed space. But Dean struggled, and it damn near broke your heart. How could you try to love and understand someone who wanted nothing to do with the man you loved? Her son.
Jim would never let anything happen to you. Even though you were more than capable of handling yourself, Jim still felt obligated to protect you at all costs. He was your Captain and boyfriend after all. Jim’s universe came to a startling halt when he was advised from Spock that you had been kidnapped, but he couldn’t make it out who it was, but if he had to bet his money on anyone it was…Khan.
I´m sorry for not uploading in so long but there just has been … stuff in my life that kept my from it. Maybe I´ll be ready to tell you in a little while but right now I just gotta deal so yeah, I hope you still enjoy the oneshot!
Pairing: Sam x Reader
Warnings: Smut, language, dark stuff
Length: 946 Words
you liked being with Sam Winchester so much, wasn´t that he was handsome and
tall, although that was quite the bonus.
It was the fact, that he was just as twisted and broken as you were.
He was hooked on demon blood, you were hooked on him.
Not that you were hopelessly in love with him or something, you had given up on
love a long, long time ago, it was just that you enjoyed having someone who
didn´t care that your thoughts were even darker than your black clothes.
He never expected anything from you and you were pretty sure that he didn´t
trust you at all but that was fine because maybe he shouldn´t and it wasn´t as
if you cared.
Trust was definitely not what this dysfunctional relationship was about.
When he returned to the cabin that the two of you used as a hiding place for
the past two weeks, you knew that he had just drunk demon blood, you could see
it in his eyes.
It was the time you wanted and needed him the most because he was strong and
rough with you. What good was it, if he was depressed and whiney shortly before
he got his next dose? You enjoyed his high just as much as he did.
“Hi”, you greeted him, sitting on the floor with a bottle of booze in your
hand. You didn´t even know what you were drinking, didn´t care.
“Hey you”, he greeted back and you heard in his voice that he wanted you too.
You got up and ignored the fact that your legs were asleep, enjoyed the numb
When you reached him you ran your hands over his chest, feeling the outline of
the muscles under his thin shirt: “I missed you”, you purred
He laughed quietly: “No you didn´t. When have you ever cared enough to miss
You grinned and shrugged before handing him the booze.
He took a huge sip and then put it on the floor before starting to kiss you. It
wasn´t tender and it wasn´t sweet, it was rough, just like you had known it
You moaned into his mouth and leaned into him and he used his strong arms to
pick you up. Having done this a thousand times, you wrapped your legs around
his hips and he carried you over to the table.
When you both were this drunk on whatever, there was no foreplay, there was
just the rush for that one thing that made even higher than anything else.
He put you down and with an expertise that would have scared away any normal
girl, he unbuttoned your jeans and slid down your pants, not even all the way
because you were wearing boots, before lowering his own pants.
“You want it as bad as I do?”, he whispered in your ear between biting it
You shuddered a bit at his husky voice and nodded, surprised that even after
all this time, he still asked you for permission to enter you.
Without further ado, he slammed into you, now all worries set aside, and fucked
you just like you wanted him.
The advantage of being with someone so many times, was that they exactly knew
what to do and so Sam didn´t need long to find your sweet spot and while his
one hand was tightly grabbing your hair, the other was used to make this feel
even better for you.
As soon as you moaned his name because an amazing orgasm was ripping through
your body, he followed you over the edge, letting you now that he had been as
worked up as you were.
When it was over, he casually pulled out of you and zipped back up and you got
off of the table too, pulling up your pants and trying to flatten your hair a
“Thanks”, you said and he just grinned.
By the time the evening rolled around, you were fairly drunk, the bottle of
booze now empty in the corner of the room where you had thrown it ten minutes
You hadn´t been drunk like this in a very long time because you didn´t like the
loss of control but today you had just felt like it.
Sam was sitting at the table now, looking at something in his laptop.
“Do you ever think that were maybe … too broken”, you asked with no idea where
this was coming from.
He looked up, surprise on his face: “What?”
Now that you started, you could very well continue to share your thoughts so
you said: “I mean, we both like each other because we´re so dark and fucked up
and believe me, I like it. But sometimes I feel like we should care at least a
“I care about … stuff”, he said vaguely and you tried to get up but failed.
“Yeah, like what?”, you asked.
He shrugged and for what had to be the first time ever, you saw him getting
uncomfortable: “I don´t know. You for example.”
You hadn´t expected that one bit and so you frowned: “For real?”
He shrugged, like it wasn´t a big deal but you could see at his tensed
shoulders that it was: “Sure.”
Then he turned back to his laptop and you sat there, staring into your lap and
“I care about you too”, you admitted carefully after a while and he pretended
he didn´t hear but you knew he did.
And then you smiled, genuinely smiled, because maybe, if there was someone in
this world who cared about you, things weren´t so bad after all.