blood being frequently described as having a "coppery smell" in fiction is kind of funny considering that there is a metallic component to blood and it's not copper
in fact if your blood smells or tastes like copper you probably have more urgent things to worry about than it being outside your body. it's probably better that it's not inside you anymore actually.
story where blood is described as smelling or tasting "coppery" and it's actually early foreshadowing that all the characters are suffering from heavy metal poisoning
“Ariel sold her voice for legs just because of a guy“
Meanwhile Ariel with legs;
Ariel already loved the human world long before meeting Eric (you don’t get a collection like hers overnight) and when she finally got a chance to explore it, she took it.
Ursula made it more about Eric than Ariel ever did.
and i mean hell this has been talked about before in more depth than i can, but when people complain about how the ending was changed (the original fairytale does not give ariel a happy ending, she dies trying to protect the prince), i think about the fact that this was written by a gay man in the 1980s
and i think it’s entirely valid (and gives her an extremely strong connection to the queer community) to change the story so she doesn’t die because of who she loves
Triton made escape a necessity. Once someone goes to the point of destroying your possessions in a violent rampage, there is no staying and sticking it out, there’s no safety. (And Ariel, even in Ursula’s lair, gave Triton more thought than he deserved at the time.) Nowhere in the ocean she could go and be safe. Everyone’s always ‘why don’t they just leave :|’ in abusive situations until the leaving is not something they find 100% worthy of approval.
Ursula made it about Eric. She didn’t have to. Ariel had to get out from under Triton’s thumb, it could have been literally anything. Ursula took advantage of a desperate victim for her own agenda. Realistic predatory behavior toward a vulnerable person.
And also
There’s always the ‘Eric didn’t want her until she was silent and meek’ criticism - FIRST OF ALL he started out looking for a woman who wasn’t silent, and second of all what part of the carriage driving bit (or any of her other actions on land) is meek, exactly?
People above have noted the queer subtext. Now, on the subject of Ariel being willing to leave her family, aside from the baseline ‘this is an abusive environment and she was not safe there’ angle I already mentioned, consider: Ariel’s father made it clear he would stop at nothing to crush and tear down who she was and replace it with what he wanted her to be. Now - what demographic might that resonate with? And given Ashman’s involvement, do you think that was a coincidence?
there has been scholarly discussion about the idea that the og little mermaid story, where she dies at the end, was written as a queer allegory.
so taking that into account… there is something very touching about taking this story from hans christian andersen from beyond the grave and being like “things are different now. they get to be happy. she gets to live.”
also in re: “Eric didn’t want her until she was silent and meek” the meek part’s been discussed but can we please talk about how when he first met her he thought she wasn’t the girl with the voice that he was trying to find and was disappointed, but that he slowly fell for her anyway? He’d explicitly wanted Ariel WITH her voice, but came to love her without it.
The bit about Howard Ashman being queer is finally giving me some glimmer of understanding of why the teenaged girl mermaid is named “Ariel.” Because, although the Disney movie single-handedly changed popular perception thereafter, Ariel is a boy’s name. Howard Ashman absolutely knew that.
(Ariel in Shakespeare’s The Tempest also has male pronouns, in case anyone was struggling to remember.)
Summary: The war between the humans and the vampires has lasted for a year now. When you fled Gotham, you thought that would be the last time you'd see the Vampire King and the love of your life, Dick Grayson. You were wrong.
Pairing: vampire king!Dick Grayson x fem!reader. based on the dc vs vampires comics
Word count: 1.9k
Warnings/tags: smut!!! 18+ only. oral fem receiving, manipulation, romantic dick, me retconning whatever smarmy little bastard they wrote in dc vs vampires bc that is NOT my dick. dick is literally so gone for you, vampire king or not. themes of death, war, vampires killing humans. if i missed any warnings lmk!
happy almost halloween! follow your dreams and fuck that superhero turned vampire. it'll definitely fix them this time.
the divider
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Tonight, you dream.
You don't usually have good dreams. Not since this whole war began. Your dreams are filled with red. Always red, always terrifying.
Except when he's in them.
The first few times it happened, you yelled at him for intruding on your subconscious. For warping your emotions and making you miss him. He'd laughed at that.
You should look at yourself a little harder before blaming me. I just appear. You do all the dirty work of missing me, my love.
You're in Gotham in tonight's dream. The old Gotham, of course. Before any bastard undead creatures could suck the life out of your city. Before Dick Grayson haunted your dreams.
You're on a rooftop ledge, legs dangling. You stare at the harbor. The city's wet from the rain and alive. So alive. You start to cry.
"Oh, honey," he says, and you cry harder because he sounds exactly like the Dick you knew.
He keeps his distance, sitting a few feet away. You refuse to look at him, because this is exactly how he gets you to miss him. Dick makes a soft noise when you scrub at your face.
"Have you been eating enough?" he asks, and he almost sounds tender. But you know better. "I'll track down a produce shipment, tell my men to intercept the boat for you."
"Fuck you," you say. "I don't take food out of people's mouths."
Dick edges closer. He feels big in your dreams, looming over you.
"You wouldn't take food out of anyone's mouth. There's no longer a faction on the planet that requires all that food."
Because the vampires have all but wiped humans out. You snarl.
"Why can't you leave me alone?" you snap. "I know you're cruel, but the least you could do is let me dream in peace."
"Have I been cruel to you? I don't mean to be, sweetheart. I visit to check on you."
"Bullshit, Dick." Saying his name makes you shake. "You visit to manipulate me. I'm not going to give up my location, I'm not going to turn against my team, and I'm definitely never going to be your queen."
Dick is next to you on the roof ledge, now. He leans in and you stiffen at his eyes. You still aren't used to the absence of blue.
"Of course not. I wouldn't make you do anything you don't want to," he says, hand slipping across your jaw. You immediately slap him away. He makes a displeased sound.
"Why don't you find someone else to manipulate? I'm sure you've got countless minions who'd leap at the chance to be with you for eternity."
"I don't want anyone else," he murmurs. "I've thought of nothing but you since we parted. I wish you hadn't run, my love. Things would be better if we were together, you’d see.”
"Hah. You used to be so much better at compartmentalizing, Grayson. Guess vampires aren't so good at controlling their own desires."
He laughs, tosses his head back. His fangs glint. Dick's smile is deceiving; underneath the charm, there's unimaginable power. Vampirism has treated him well: he's always filled out, lean with muscle, carrying an easy strength everywhere he goes.
You, on the other hand, suffer from poor nutrition. You didn't sleep well before this mess; now, it's nearly impossible.
(Except when Dick visits, you feel rested the next morning. You'd never admit such a thing to anybody, but it's the truth.)
"Oh, sweetheart, but why would I bother controlling my desires now? There's no one stopping me from having what I want."
You stew in silence, turning away from him. Dick sighs.
"What do you want, hm? Tell me. I'll give you anything."
"I want you to free every human you're holding captive," you say. "And I want you and your people to stop this war."
"Such a golden heart," Dick says. "That's what I love about you. Always so good."
"You used to be good too," you shoot back bitterly.
"No, I used to be obedient. There's a difference. I used to be Bruce's little, golden cow."
“He treated you well.”
“When I fell in line,” he says.
You fall quiet again. Dick scoots closer. You scoot away.
"You know I've already let a few of the humans go. For you, honey. As a sign of goodwill. I'm not totally heartless, you know."
You roll your eyes.
"Right. Well, us cattle don't find it merciful when we're sent out on our own to die, so you'll have to excuse me if I don't thank Your Highness on my knees."
"You are not cattle," Dick says fiercely. "Don't talk about yourself that way."
"My life is no less human and no more important than theirs," you say, temper flaring. "So, yes, I am."
"That's—"
You fall off the roof before he can say any more. Your stomach swoops similarly to how it would if you were awake. But then the stars bleed into the skyline, and there's a flash of golden light.
And now you're in a bedroom. It's not one you recognize, richly decorated with golden accents and silk sheets and curtains. You'd almost mistake it for a room at Wayne Manor.
"Now this is much better, don't you think? You're wearing my favorite color."
You look down and see that your pajamas have been swapped for a long, blood red, chiffon nightgown. It hugs every curve and dip of your body, the sleeves and collar trimmed in soft fur. The neckline is somewhat modest, but the fabric is totally see-through past your thighs.
It's something a queen would wear.
"Beautiful," Dick murmurs, voice rough. "Fuck, honey. This is the sort of thing you should wear all the time."
"Change me back," you demand. "I am not a doll for you to dress up, Dick."
"No, of course you're not. This is just a taste of how you'd live if you were with me, my love."
"I will never live with you. I'd rather die."
Dick hums, then draws closer. You back up until your legs hit the edge of the bed. He prowls further, eyes sharp like he's hunting prey. Your pulse quickens and you have to remind yourself that this is just a dream.
"What happened to us?" he asks softly. "I know that, at one point, you loved me."
"Yeah, that was before you turned into a monster. I loved a man."
"I'm no more monster than any of the men you've known," Dick says.
You scoff. "God, where'd you get that one? Jason?"
Dick smiles, and it almost looks human. "No, that was a Grayson original. And it's true. Man has never been good. You don't like me because now I drink a little blood?"
"I don't like you because you used to be good, and now you're not."
He hums. "I'm not all bad, my love. I can be subdued, tamed. You want me to be tame? I can be good for you. I can give you anything your heart desires. Our wants are the same.”
Dick eases you backwards onto the bed. You shouldn’t let him. Shouldn’t like the cold press of undead flesh against your heat. Shouldn’t like how he holds you, how convincing he sounds. You know your wants aren’t the same, that Dick is playing you, and you’re being easy.
But… but it's not like you'll ever see him for real again. No one will know.
And God, it's been so long since anyone touched you. You pined for this, what seems like forever ago. Dick Grayson wanting you had felt impossible, until it wasn't… but by then, he'd become the very thing you'd sworn to hate.
"This–” You swallow. “This isn’t right.”
But your legs part for him to kneel between.
"Tell me to stop and I will. I serve you first."
Dick hovers over you, hands planted on either side of your head. You're getting wet. You ache in more ways than one.
"This is cruel," you whine.
"I don’t mean to be cruel,” he says gently. “Do you want me to stop, my love? My beautiful queen, who hasn’t been touched in so long. You’ve needed me, haven’t you?”
“Not–not your queen,” you say, panting, but you let him in, let him settle above you.
“If you say so, my love," he says, nuzzling your neck. You tense even though he can't actually bite you.
His fingers thread with yours. The position is unbearably intimate. You’d forgotten how romantic Dick was. How loving. Briefly, you wonder if he kept that through the shift.
It’s impossible, you insist as he kisses your jaw.
"You're a dream in red," he purrs. "I might prefer it to you in blue, but it's a close call."
"Your ego is ridiculous," you say, and Dick unlinks one hand to pet the apex of your thighs with two fingers. You're still clothed, and you're still dreaming, but the heat and pressure and slick feel so real.
"The sounds you're making certainly don’t keep my ego in check," Dick says with a proud grin, fangs on display.
Then he rips your underwear off, ducks between your legs, and licks you until you cry.
You arch off the bed, and even in the dream, his strength is easy, one hand keeping you pressed to the bed. Dick pushes one of your legs up to get a deeper angle, moaning into your cunt. Your leg goes up easily even though in real life, it would pinch. You’re not as flexible as he is.
"Dickie," you cry, tears slipping down your cheeks because it's so good, it feels real, you wish this was real, wish you had him back.
He nips your thighs, groans into your sex. Dick ruts the mattress, the first loss of control he's shown. It makes you wetter, knowing that he's so gone for you. It's sick to like such a thing, but you never stopped loving him, not really. You can't seem to reckon the man from the monster.
You come hard on his tongue, and he keeps licking until you push him away.
"You haven't been touched in ages, I bet," he says, lips shiny with your arousal. His eyes are a brighter red. His chest heaves. He looks hungrier than before he started.
"Been a bit busy,” you say when your brain comes back online. “End of humanity and all that."
His eyes go soft. You hate that he can still make that look.
"Why are you so stubborn? Why won't you let me take care of you? You belong at my side."
You scowl. "I don't belong anywhere, Dick. Certainly nowhere near you."
His eyes glitter and he grabs you by your hips and kisses you. You let him, because you're absolutely pathetic and because you haven't been touched in ages.
Dick laughs against your mouth and peppers kisses on your throat before pulling away.
"I'll send your team food. They won't even know it's me," he says, half-lidded. "My beloved queen. You'll never starve. I didn't know it was so bad."
"I am not your queen and I don't need your charity. In fact, you know what? I'm waking up. Right now."
Dick smiles, and kisses your hand. Then he gets off of the bed, and fixes his collar. He must be aching in his slacks, dream or not, but he straightens up like he has all the time in the world to fuck you. Like he knows you’ll be back.
"Of course, my love. Whatever you want. Till next time."
The dream fades from a golden bedroom to your dark, tiny hole of a room you've camped in for a few months.
You turn your head and look at the clock. It's still late.
Your thighs ache. Your mouth tingles where he kissed you.
You swore to never pledge yourself to the Vampire King. But you never made any such promises about Dick Grayson.
affirmations for writers: i know how to write. i have seen sentences before, and i know how to make one. i can identify up to several words and their meanings. i am not afraid of semicolons.
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