#from backstory to Dean’s death

[wrenwinchester]

Head cannon Dean jr. Gets cast in his school’s production of Supernatural the musical.

[perlukafarinn]

Usually when Claire works the closing shift at Rocky's, she and Dean will wind down with a couple of beers at the end of the night. It's a nice little ritual Claire looks forward to every time she comes around, though she'd never admit as much out loud.

Tonight, Dean has mixed up a batch of one of his specialty cocktails - The Queen of Moondoor. It's bright, a sort of red-orange color, and has a sweet and sour taste that makes Claire's jaw ache.

"Do you like it?" Dean asks, like Claire's opinion really matters.

She nods. "It's good."

She's not lying. Dean isn't really a cocktails kind of guy but he's put a lot of effort into every detail of Rocky's. From the various pride flags carefully hung behind the bar, to the salt painted into the windowsills, every inch of the place is meticulously planned out. Rocky's isn't officially a hunter's bar - though it is explicitly a gay bar - but it's become an unofficial gathering place of queer hunters across the continental US.

Even the cocktails on the menu are Dean's own invention. All of them have a backstory, some of which Claire isn't privy to. She knows enough to understand why the Queen of Moondoor is Dean's personal favorite, though.

It also packs a surprising punch. Two drinks in, and Claire already feels herself tilting from tipsy into full-on drunk. She slows down her pace.

"How long are you planning on sticking around now?" Dean asks, because free booze is never just free booze with him. There's always the interrogation. He's almost as much of a mom as Jody is.

"A few days," Claire answers vaguely. "Maybe longer, who knows. I don't have any hunts lined up right now and you pay pretty well."

She knows for a fact he pays her double what he does his other bartenders. Neither one of them ever mentions it, though.

"Weren't you heading back to Jody's?"

Claire shrugs, uncomfortable. She had been, before last night's call with Kaia. They're good most days, even with the strain of Claire being on the road half the time, but sometimes when they talk, they'll hit on a sore topic for one of them and things will get stilted.

The anniversary of Mom's death is coming up in a couple of weeks. Kaia wanted to join Claire for her visit to the cemetery.

"What's on your mind, Strawberry Shortcake?"

Claire is supposed to roll her eyes now. Tell Dean to fuck off and mind his own business.

She doesn't really want to do that. But she doesn't know how to explain to Dean what she's feeling, either.

"It's stupid," she says. "I'm being dramatic."

"You? Never."

Claire scoffs, and Dean's eyes soften.

"You can talk to me, you know."

"Yeah," Claire says, because she does. He gets her, weirdly enough. They get each other. It probably doesn't say great things about either of them. "I just... I feel like I'm making up problems."

Dean takes a sip of his drink. It's difficult to look dignified, drinking out of a straw, and he does not remotely manage it. "Let me be the judge of that."

"Kaia wants-" Claire stops herself, because that's not the point of it. "I - we're good. Me and Kaia. I don't feel ashamed about it."

Dean waits for her continue.

"I'm a lesbian," Claire adds, even though, duh.

"Congrats," Dean says, and it feels like it could be sarcastic but it's not. He means it.

"I don't think -" no, that's not right. "I know my parents wouldn't be okay with that."

The statement lands heavily between them. It feels bitter on Claire's tongue, an ugly truth held at bay for far too long. She feels awful saying it, like she's failing her parents. Speaking ill of the dead. But it's the truth.

Mom and Dad would make these... comments. And Claire remembers each one with perfect clarity, because she's known something was different about her for a very long time. She knew those comments were aimed at her, even if her parents didn't.

They were wonderful parents in every other aspect. Up until they abandoned her, that is. Claire still can't help but feel like she's failing them, sometimes, being who she is.

"They might have changed their minds," Dean offers. "If they'd known. It's different when it's your own kid."

Claire eyes him, curious. "Was it different for your parents?"

Something crosses over Dean's expression, too quickly for Claire to catch it.

"No," he admits after a beat. He runs his hand over his face. "Maybe - Mom might have been fine with it. She didn't know."

Claire swallows. "But your dad did. And it wasn't different."

She feels cruel, pushing the topic. But there's some perverse part of her that needs the confirmation. Dean reminds her of herself, in a lot of ways. He'd say it was the other way around. If he experienced the rejection that Claire feared as a kid, the one that still scares her even if it's purely theoretical now, then that proves something.

"It wasn't," Dean admits. "But Jimmy Novak was no John Winchester."

Claire's chest aches. There's some hollow triumph at the abstract confirmation of her worst fears. Mostly, she just feels like shit.

"For what it's worth," Dean adds, "I think you're perfect. No notes."

Embarrassingly, Claire's lower lip wobbles. She clears her throat, looking off to the side as she tries to regain her composure.

"You think you're my dad or something?" she asks, voice rough.

Dean shrugs, looking embarrassed himself. "I kind of think of you as my kid, yeah. If that's okay."

Claire crosses her arms, feeling warm and aching and off-kilter. "I - yeah. Yeah, that's fine."

[thebiggerbear]

Call My Name - One - Phase One Is A Go

Summary: And so begins Phase 1.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

A/N: Ahhhh I'm so excited to take this journey with you guys. I've been working on it for forever!!! I really hope you like it. It has been so much fun to write!!!

I have to be honest, I'm still learning all the ins and outs of posting fanfic on here and what that entails so I want to say up front that this is a sort of dark fic but not completely? Without giving anything away, there will be some dark elements. I will absolutely put those warning when that chapter happens but I just want to give you guys a heads up early on in case.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Songs for chapter (also listened to while writing): Prison Fight - Tyler Bates; Run For Your Life - The Siege

Series Masterlist

Warnings: sanctioned assassination; violence/blood; implied gore/death/murder; Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy; language; implied sexual imagery; hints of manipulation

Word Count: 8515

Series Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl; @deangirl96; @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @ej13928; @rieleatiel

SB Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith; @muhahaha303; @just-levyy; @solacedthistest; @deansimpala; @foxyjwls007; @onlyangel-444

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

Some days were tough. Some days were harder than most. But here you were, getting through each day with only one goal in mind. Everything you did, every decision you made, every breath you took — it was all leading towards one specific objective.

And that’s why you were here now, at a black op CIA site, watching as they pulled a comatose Soldier Boy out of containment.

“Are you sure about this?” Grace Mallory asked as you both stared down from the observation deck at Vought’s original Supe they had cooked up. It wasn’t too often that Grace showed her soft side; most didn’t even know she had one actually. But right now, out of the corner of your eye, you could see concern mixed with understanding topped off with a bit of careful hesitation. While you hated the concern and appreciated the understanding, you couldn’t blame her on the hesitation. Soldier Boy was basically a nuclear reactor in human form and he hadn’t gone down under the best circumstances, which was putting it lightly. Not only did he not want to go back under for another deep sleep, but Butcher and his team would be in his sights now. And based on what he did to the last team who betrayed him, you all were in for a shitstorm.

You knew this was a terrible idea, that you could very likely die before achieving your goal and you could bring hundreds if not thousands of people with you if you weren’t careful. But you were out of options and just like Butcher and company had arrived at the same decision some months earlier, you had chosen to unearth the strongest weapon you had in your arsenal in the battle between Supes and humans. 

Grace had fought you on it of course. The government had strongly agreed with her assessment; Soldier Boy was too much of a risk to allow him to gain consciousness never mind walk around free. And yet they had no answer when you questioned why they didn’t just destroy him and end it, making the world that much safer. You knew why; they wanted to be in possession of that power, that weapon deep within the Supe’s chest. And that you could work with.

The older woman already knew your backstory and when you pressed the right buttons, backed by Butcher of all people, eventually she came around. You had no idea who she spoke to or what favors she had called in, but sure enough, your mission was greenlit with barely any resistance though a ton of uneasiness. Not unexpected and not entirely unfathomable. Funnily enough, President Singer was kept in the dark on this one; he was too close to Vought and by extension, Homelander and Victoria Neuman. You didn’t exactly mind. It was better for you and the mission as a whole if no one knew that Soldier Boy was still alive. How Grace managed to keep his existence under wraps for all of this time, you had no idea, but you were grateful she was on your side. So when you got the go ahead, you and Butcher took the win and hightailed it to the CIA facility before anyone could change their minds, or worse, figure out what you were up to and try to stop you. 

There were stipulations as you figured there would be: daily briefings, a carefully selected unit of CIA under Grace’s command would be monitoring your every move closely, they reserved the right to pull the plug at any time and put Soldier Boy back into containment, and while you were in charge of the op, Butcher was who you had to answer to in Grace’s absence. That definitely set your teeth on edge. You and Butcher had different ideas on how to get things done, but you reminded yourself that you both had the same goal and that was all that really mattered. So you begrudgingly agreed and now here you were ordering the staff to begin the process of waking the original Supe up. 

You watched as two men in Hazmat suits appeared to be choosing who would pull the figurative straw. You rolled your eyes; they were wasting time. Before you could hit a button and bark out an order, the one on your right seemed to be the one who had lost and warily approached Soldier Boy to remove his mask, practically darting away once he was finished. The staffer on the left was holding a radiation meter in his hand. From your viewpoint, you could see the levels slowly begin to rise. Sure enough, when you flicked your eyes over to the Supe, you could see movement underneath his eyelids, as if he were having an intense dream.

Grace saw it, too, and she ordered the two men out at once. There was no hesitation in following her command. Once they were out, Grace nodded to the staffer on her other side and he stayed at the ready, finger hovering over a button that you assumed would flood the room with Novichok gas within seconds if needed. Another employee darkened the windows in front of you. You could still see out but Soldier Boy wouldn’t be able to see in. A switch was flipped somewhere and the lights went down. The backup power source came on and the room was flooded with a red halo from the emergency lights. An alarm started to sound throughout the facility, as if someone had infiltrated the building, but everyone’s lack of movement and surprise confirmed there were no intruders. Instead, everyone’s focus was on the Supe who was going to open his eyes at any second. 

Grace turned back to you. “Are you ready for this?”

You grabbed the gas mask that had been given to you as a contingency. “Butcher and his team ready?”

“Ready and standing by,” someone informed you both.

You gave Grace a nod and turned to leave the room. 

“Hey,” she called, stopping you in your tracks. You glanced back over your shoulder to see that concern again, this time framed by the cold steel you’d gotten to know over the last few months. “If it looks like it’s not going to happen…” She let her warning trail off; both of you knew what would happen if things started to go sideways. She’d do her best to get you out before you got killed, but there was a high chance it wouldn’t happen. Then you’d be sealed in with a live nuclear reactor and that would be the end of you, and all of that would be before Soldier Boy could choose to unleash any of his wrath on you.

Giving a curt nod, you swiveled your head back in the direction you were headed in, determination filling your veins no matter the outcome. People cleared the path for you, fear plain as day on their faces. Not fear of you or even for you, but fear of what lay beyond in that chamber. Fear of what you had lobbied hard for to be woken up that would have been better left sleeping, for all eternity if some of them had their way. You didn’t pay them any mind and held your head up higher, a familiar blanket of cold indifference settling over you. You ignored their terrified gasps as you pulled one of your swords out of its sheath and headed for the open door. Once you were past it, after a few feet, you stopped right before the entrance to what could very well be your death, ignoring the sound of the door sealing shut behind you. 

You waited to be confronted by a group that had been specifically chosen for this op by Grace and Butcher. You could hear them approaching, talking low amongst themselves and trying to formulate a plan, which from some of their tones you could tell it wouldn’t hold up very well and not even that long even if you weren’t there to stop them. Sure enough, as you knew would happen with a few more footsteps, they rounded the corner, looking for an exit, only to find you.

The group of men had been dressed as security for the facility and the six of them varied in size. The one in front, a big burly guy who appeared to have declared himself as leader, sneered over at you. “Well, what do we have here?”

The way he looked at you, the vibe coming off of him as well as a few of the others… They had been chosen well; you could already feel the urge to wipe them off the map radiating throughout your body. Your thoughts were running rampant and as one of them leered, you could sense an all-too familiar rage attempting to burn brightly within you that you then masterfully directed throughout your body.

You swung your sword in your hand and tensed, getting ready. 

The leader laughed, turned to the other five, and ordered, “Get the bitch.”

The corner of your lips lifted in response. This was going to be a fun little workout for you that you could get in right before facing off with the final boss. Three men came charging at you and your sword flew with incredible precision as you spun in a dance you’d practiced a thousand times during training. You sliced open one and cut the other’s throat before either of them could even dream of laying a hand on you. When the third came closer, you made short work of him, and as you were about to injure the leader, he took one of the other two that had been hesitant to engage you, practically cowering, and used him as a human shield. He shoved the lanky man forward, right into your sword. You left it there and pulled your other one, kicking the dying man to the side. The sixth man cursed out loud and began running in the other direction. You pulled one of your knives from your belt and sent it careening into the back of his head, making him fall flat on his face. You then turned towards the one you had purposely saved for last. 

“You fucking bitch,” he hissed. “You want some of this? Then come get it!” He pulled your sword out of the guy he’d thrust onto it and began trying to swing at you. You effortlessly dodged each of his blows and you waited for him to lose energy. He wasn’t even worth parrying with. Sure enough, when you saw the arc of his arm begin to slow down, you made your move. You avoided the blade coming for your torso by dropping to your knees and sliding over to him and cutting into his side with your sword. Your movement propelled you forward, cutting deeply, and he let out the loudest yell you’d heard yet. He pathetically tried to point the sword in your direction but you easily sidestepped the movement, watching him begin to bleed everywhere. 

He tried to weakly lift the weapon once more as he held a hand over his gaping wound but you stopped him by bringing your blade down on his arm, effectively removing the limb and forcing him to scream out in pain again. It was like music to your ears and you stood there before him, glaring down at the piece of shit who didn’t deserve to be alive to even have come across you. You had a sneaky suspicion that Grace had chosen this one. 

“Now you know what they felt,” you snarled quietly.

He scowled back at you and spit blood in your direction, with you stepping back to avoid the spray. “Fuck you, you dumb bitch! Just like all the rest!” 

You gave him a nod and lifted your sword, his eyes slightly going wide at the sight. “Like all the rest,” you echoed and brought the blade down, hard. 

Though his screams turned piercing, you took him apart piece by piece within seconds, making sure he felt everything before you finally ended him. It was more mercy than he deserved. He was worse than all of the others combined, not that they were angels themselves. Blood coated you and both swords so you used one of the others’ shirts to wipe the red stains from one of the blades. You pushed it into its sheath on your back once you were finished and held the other aloft as you pulled out the security key card Grace had given you. You could hear Soldier Boy’s breathing increase and you knew you had to get into his room and fast. 

You made your way to the control panel on the left side of the doors, scanned the card, and tossed it once the green light appeared. The tell-tale sound of the doors opening sounded and you readied yourself, sword in hand.

Once the doors had pulled aside and a low level of smoke cleared which you suspected was gas (perhaps Grace had to keep him subdued while you were meting out justice on that asshole), you saw exactly what you had come for.

There stood Soldier Boy, glaring at you, his chest rising and falling, his hands in fists. Obviously, having just woken up and gotten to his feet, he was still a bit disoriented but not enough that you could take him by surprise and win. You could also see a sheen of yellow beginning to form in the center of his figure and you knew you only had seconds.

You stepped into the room, knowing there was no going back now and that Grace was watching every move from behind the dark glass. The yellow glow started to manifest and you took a quiet breath in. His eyes narrowed and he moved to face off with you, his right fist clenching harder. 

You held up your free hand. “I’m not here to fight you. I’m here to break you out.”

He scoffed in disbelief. “You’re with the Reds, aren’t you? You Commie motherfuckers expect me to believe that again?” He roared with a rasp, the color of the light in his chest turning from yellow to a luminous gold with a pinkish haze. 

You lifted your sword and placed it into the other waiting sheath on your back. At the action, Soldier Boy tensed further and took a step towards you.

You raised your other hand. “I’m not here to harm you.” He eyed you sharply, disbelief all over his face. “We’re not in Russia. We’re in the US, in upstate New York, at a black op CIA facility. You’ve been here for the past six months and I’m here to get you out.”

His expression didn’t change. “Why?”

“We can talk about it later. Right now, we—”

“Why?” The Supe yelled, fury lacing his tone, and the gold light got even brighter.

Gas suddenly began to flow into the room from vents in the ceiling and another loud alarm sounded, one you hadn’t heard yet. Shit. Grace was getting ready to lock it down. You’d had your shot and it hadn’t worked. You literally had one minute to get the hell out of there. But you were nothing if not stubborn and determined to see this through. 

You pulled the gas mask from underneath your thin coat and held it up for him to see. You tossed it over at him and he caught it just like you hoped he would. His eyes snapped up at you, distrust and anger still clearly in his green gaze. You really couldn’t blame him but right now, you didn’t have the time.

“Like I said, I’m here to help. We don’t have time for me to explain right now. So unless you want to go back on ice…” You nodded your head towards the billowing gas making its way rapidly down to him. He glanced back in the direction you indicated and he cursed, quickly slipping the mask on. You noticed the light in his chest didn’t get any brighter but that didn’t mean he wasn’t locked and loaded, able to go off at any moment. 

He met your eyes again and you inclined your head back towards the doors that were just beginning to close. “I suggest you come with me,” you threw at him and then spun on your heel, making your way out of the room. You walked a few feet and stopped, glancing back over your shoulder, hoping like hell he would follow you.

Right before the doors could close the last few feet, Soldier Boy slipped past them and came to a stop in front of you. He yanked the gas mask off but held onto it, breathing deeply of the clean air. You had made it out of the room, gotten him out of it — you’d survived the first phase of the plan and now you just needed to get through the next. 

His eyes roamed over the remnants of the scene you both were standing in, seeing the bodies and blood everywhere, and landed on the mask in his hand. His gaze snapped up to you and his expression hardened, his tone dark and dangerous. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because,” you took a step towards him, staring into his eyes, pretending not to notice him tense in preparation for a fight. “I need your help.”

He huffed out a chuckle that was lacking any amusement. “Always a fucking catch. What do you want?”

You took another step towards him and you observed his jaw tightening. “We can talk about it later but right now, we really need to keep m—”

“What do you want?” He repeated.

“I need your help to take someone out.”

“Based on your handiwork,” He gestured to the scene around you with a hand. “I’d say you don’t need any help there, doll.”

Your own jaw clenched. “It’s a Supe.”

His eyes flashed and you knew that he was now aware of just who you were talking about. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together, you knew that. There was only one Supe in existence that Soldier Boy had been made to go up against before; the only one that had been as strong as him and he had been evenly matched with; the only one that he would be woken out of a Novichok coma like King Kong and sent to go fight Godzilla. “Homelander,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

You gave a nod of confirmation.

He watched you for a moment and then scrubbed a hand at his jaw. “Why the fuck would I help you?”

You lifted your chin. “He’s always been a problem but he’s only gotten more dangerous and more unstable since you were put under.”

“Not my problem.”

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes but trying to keep the rage boiling within you in check. “Actually, it is your problem. He wouldn’t even exist if you hadn’t given Vogelbaum a sample of your DNA to work with.”

He approached you quickly, the fury radiating off of him and the rose gold pulsing in his chest. You stood your ground. “I didn’t know that Vought would make a fucking kid with it!” He roared.

You wanted to ask just what he thought the mad doctor would do with his sperm but you kept that thought to yourself, knowing this wasn’t the time. You never broke eye contact and you watched as he panted harshly, his hands in fists again, the gas mask dangling from one. You remained quiet, waiting to see what would transpire. One wrong move here and you’d be toast, gone before you could even begin the most important mission of your life. One you were determined to see through no matter the cost. 

Seeing that you weren’t going to respond or react in any way, the gold light dimmed slightly and his hands slowly relaxed. “I didn’t ask for them to betray me and hand me over to the Reds where I was tortured every goddamn day for years. I didn’t ask for them to whip up some wannabe replacement behind my back. I didn’t ask to be forgotten,” he hissed.

You were a little surprised when you noticed the hurt and betrayal shadowing his gaze, but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. You watched as he turned to glance behind him, presumably to glare back at the room he’d been held in. But you knew he was also attempting to mask the tiny piece of vulnerability that had unexpectedly come through. You’d seen the videos of the torture he’d endured back in Russia, read his file back to back, sat through his crappy films, and you’d been fully briefed by Grace, Butcher, and the rest of the team who had exclusive dealings with him the first time he’d returned to the States six months ago. You’d also delved deep into Payback’s history and studied up on each and every one of its members. You knew about his PTSD, how he tended to self-medicate with booze, drugs, and women though he was in denial about having the disorder. You also knew that while some of his toxic beliefs and archaic attitudes were still in place, he was not entirely the same person he’d been before he was strapped to a table and Russian scientists proceeded to check off a list of several hundred different ways to try to kill him. The cocky swagger that had come so naturally to him before that was no longer the real deal. If anything, he overcompensated to try to make people believe he was the same Supe he’d been and just as dangerous as ever, with the added bonus of a nuclear threat sitting inside his chest.  

“Maybe not,” you agreed quietly. He turned back towards you. “I can make it worth your while.”

A sly smile began to form on his face as his gaze roved over you. “Appreciate the offer, sweetheart, but you’re not my type. I like ‘em a little older. Although, I will say the swords and the blood, you walking in there like some goddamn avenging angel…kinda hot.”

You fought not to roll your eyes. “That’s not what I was talking about.”

“Well then, unless you’ve got some fucktastic pussy waiting for me to wreck it along with some Bennies and grade A reefer, we’ve got nothing to talk about.” He lifted the mask up in a gesture of thanks and turned to slip down the hallway past you.

Watching him step barefoot in the blood, you waited until he had made it a few feet before saying, “Your freedom.”

He froze at that, turning his head slightly to the side, listening.

You walked up to him, only stopping a foot or so away. “You help me with Homelander, and you get your freedom. No more Vought, no more government, no more pulling of your strings. You’ll be free.”

He slowly turned to face you, his expression hardened though you didn’t miss the tiny glimmer of hope carefully hidden away in his gaze. “Bullshit. You don’t have that kind of pull no matter how you found me and got me out.”

“You’re right, I don’t. Grace Mallory does.”

“Who the fuck is Grace Mallory?”

You took a step closer, noting how this time he didn’t tense in preparation. In his mind, he had already dismissed you as someone he needed to worry about. While that was a good development for your plan, it irked you a little. You may not be Homelander, but you were certainly no weakling. And with this guy, guaranteed he automatically dismissed you as a threat because he saw you as weaker than him, and also because you were a woman. “Someone who does have that kind of pull.” You took yet another step towards him, confirming your theory when he only glared down at you. “You should know, you’ve met her before.”

At his knitted brow, you supplied, “Nicaragua, 1984.”

You watched as he searched through his memories, realization dawning on his features when he found the right one, his brows arching in slight surprise. “Captain Lesbo?”

You gave him a scowl that would have made a lesser man curl up in a ball. Grace and Hughie had warned you about his outdated and toxic takes on the world around him. 

That sly smile was back on his face. “She was gorgeous back then. I bet she’s aged like a real fine wine by now.” His tongue ran along his bottom lip and you felt queasy at his obvious lustful thoughts of the older woman. Right. Butcher and Hughie had given you a heads up on that, too.

Before he could get too lost in that fantasy, you made sure to interrupt with “She’s got the pull. So, are you in?”

He eyed you sharply, thinking over the offer. You also knew that he was thinking over how to secure the freedom you had dangled in front of him without having to deal with you or Grace. The sound of approaching security had you both snapping your gazes towards the noise. This was a group you couldn’t dispatch as easily as you had the first considering they were the real deal. Well, you could but you wouldn’t. You snuck a glance at his chest, seeing the gold beginning to shimmer underneath his skin once more. You had to get him out of here before the guards showed up.

He glanced back at you. “What do you get out of this?”

“I told you. Homelander dead.”

“No,” he ground out, taking a step towards you, his eyes burning into you and the light in his chest shining a golden halo on your face from his close proximity. This time, you were the one tensing, preparing to defend yourself. “What do you get?”

“My freedom as well,” you informed him, never breaking eye contact or stepping away. You were telling him the truth. Once the strongest Supe on the planet was no more, you would be free, in a way. He didn’t need to know how, though.

His eyes roved over you and he let out a disgusted huff. “You’re a Supe.”

You didn’t respond; you didn’t need to. “So, do we have a deal?” You both could hear the men getting closer. “Tick tock,” you reminded him.

The anger never faded from his expression but the light in his chest began to grow a little brighter. “How about I blow this place to hell instead and you come with me? I could do with a little entertainment after being locked away in this shithole.” He let his gaze roam over you appreciatively and you could see just what kind of entertainment he had in mind.

You squared your jaw, not at all in the mood for his womanizing machismo bullshit. “If you blow this place up, the deal is off the table. Mallory won’t stand for it and considering my freedom is on the line, neither will I. I don’t need a bunch of CIA crawling up my ass while I go after Soldier Boy Junior. As for entertainment, now’s a good time for you to get reacquainted with your right hand because there’s no way you’re getting any of that from me,” you snarled. “So either take the deal or I leave you to be hunted down by every single agency and military across the globe once word gets out that you’re still alive. And it will get out.”

You both continued glaring at one another but he didn’t say a word. The men were getting closer.

“Best of luck with that,” you snapped, and turned to slip past him, intent on leaving him behind. Your anger wasn’t feigned; you were pissed. You knew he would be stubborn, mistrustful even, given what he’d been through, but this was just beyond irritating. You didn’t have time to stop and hammer out details; you were now on the run for Christ’s sake.

You headed in the opposite direction of the guards, pulling one of your swords, readying yourself for the sprint to the exit you’d planned for. Grace must be pissing her pants right about now; she’d given you both plenty of time to get out of the building. And if she was pissing her pants, you knew Butcher and his team were crapping theirs. Soldier Boy was awake and now it was up to Grace and the CIA to put him back under, your plan a complete failure. It wasn’t your fault that the Supe was indeed the most idiotic one as Grace had stated him to be. You’d given it your best shot. 

You surged forward, planning to keep casualties as low as possible should you come across anyone. A hand gripped your shoulder, hard, and turned you to face one very pissed off Soldier Boy. You got ready to start the battle of your life, knowing you were most likely going to lose, but you stopped when you noticed his chest was no longer glowing. 

“You got a way out of here?”

You arched a brow up at him. “You’re taking the deal?”

He snorted and released you, his eyes flicking back towards the opposite end of the hallway you were in before returning to you. “You get us out of here, get me some food and the shit I ask for, and we’ll talk.”

“No deal, no dice.” 

You went to move past him when he stopped you again, his hand gripping your upper arm. You could feel the superior strength behind it; if he wanted to, he could snap your arm like a twig, exerting very little pressure. But thankfully, he seemed more focused on getting you to listen to him rather than harming you. “You want me to help you kill Homelander?” At your nod, he let out an angry breath. “Done. I would have hunted down that sniveling pussy on my own, anyway. But after you give me what I just asked for. And then I get my freedom,” he dictated.

“We both do,” you tacked on, still shocked that you had managed to get him to agree.

His eyes roamed over your face and then he gave you a nod, letting you go. “So which way to the fucking exit?”

Just then, the guards broke through the door and spilled out into the hallway, spotting you and shouting at one another to take you both down. Soldier Boy turned a ferocious glare on them and began to step around you to take them on when you grabbed his bicep. The action prompted him to glance down at your hand, his gaze then lifting to yours. “This way,” you urged, and began to run. Thankfully, he fell in step right behind you. Bullets were suddenly being fired in your direction and you had to practically fly out of there. Those bullets might ricochet off Soldier Boy but they wouldn’t bounce so easily off of you. 

As you were passing a small vehicle that you’d seen security guards traversing in on your last visit, he picked it up and launched it at the guards pursuing you. You heard the sickening sounds of machinery crunching flesh and you could only hope no one had died or had life threatening injuries. Instead, all you could manage to do now was to distract the Supe and get him out of there.

“Through here,” you called back to him. Relief pooled in your chest when you glanced back to find his attention on you. He hurried over towards you and you punched in the code Grace had given you to memorize. The door opened and you ducked as you pushed past it, hearing the sounds of more bullets flying your way. Soldier Boy was right behind you and you hit the button to close the door. Once it was shut you used your strength to punch the control panel and destroy it so the guards couldn’t follow.

You turned to find Soldier Boy’s brows arched at you in surprise before a leering smirk appeared on his face. “Well, that answers that.”

You let out a quiet scoff and slipped your sword back into the empty sheath on your back. “Like I said, that’s not happening.”

“A shame,” he practically purred at you, amusement clear as day in his eyes alongside a fire you hadn’t seen there before. It became quickly apparent just what that fire was. The image of you both tangled up in one another, the blood still on your skin, and him slamming into you up against the walls of the hallway you were now in made the queasiness from earlier reappear. It got even worse when the image transformed into one of you emerging into the room he’d been held in and him taking you right on the gurney he’d been laid out on, neither of you caring who showed up, who watched, or who ended up dying when he was finished. The queasiness had become full blown nausea at this point, and you forced it back down. You had a job to do after all.

You ignored his eyes roaming over your body and lifted your chin. “Time to go.”

You marched past him and continued on the route you and Grace had planned. Thankfully, he followed and the images began to peter out the closer you got to the outside. You were beyond grateful for that; you could only see his face contorted in pleasure as he rutted into you so many times before you would actually throw up. Not for the first time since you’d been turned, you cursed this gift you had been given.

“I take it Captain Lesbo gave you the code back there?” He asked.

“Who do you think told me where to find you?” You countered.

You led the way through another tunnel until you came to a heavy door that supposedly led to the parking lot outside. You yanked out both swords, pulled your hood up, and flicked your gaze over to the Supe. “Ready?”

You watched as his hands clenched into fists once more. “Lead the way.”

You tested the door. It swung open and suddenly both of you were engulfed in the bright light of the sun. You scanned the parking lot when you noticed the office supplies van parked about three hundred feet away, right where Grace said it would be. “It’s a short run but we’ve got to make it fast. She’ll only be able to get us a blind spot from the cameras for a few minutes. We’re headed for that van over there.” You gestured in the vehicle’s direction. “So when I say go, we run like hell.”

The man gave you a curt nod and held a hand over his eyes, looking over the lot as well. 

You waited, tensed and prepared for a fight, hoping it wouldn’t be a long one. Grace should have eyes on you by now and Team B should be ready to engage you the moment you both stepped out further. You really wished you had an earpiece for this part but due to Soldier Boy’s extra sharp hearing, it had been decided across the board that it was too much to risk. You would just have to keep trusting in the timing of the plan you had come up with. You could hear the rumbling of a motor coming closer, picking up speed and gaining momentum. You held up a hand near the Supe and began to manually count down from 5. 

A box truck was about to pass by as you got to 2, signaling to you that Phase 3 was a go, when suddenly everything went to hell. Soldier Boy stepped out in front of the vehicle, unflinching as it made impact with his body. To your absolute amazement, you silently watched as his feet stayed stationary and the truck began to wrap itself around the Supe, the object needing to go somewhere, and split right down the middle. You could hear the loud screeching of the metal and the terrified yell of the driver before it was abruptly cut off. Your brain barely had time to process what you were seeing when Soldier Boy picked up one half of the sliced truck and launched it in the air as if it were a football. It was aimed at a location where you knew reinforcements were waiting to rush out and engage you from. You heard the tell-tale screams and ensuing splat. Mallory was going to be pissed.

The Supe then turned a glower back onto you. “No need to run now.” You could see that though he had been attracted to you a few minutes ago, had mostly agreed to your deal, and you had broken him out, he still didn’t trust you completely. You could understand that, respect it even. But you couldn’t have him going off script like this if your plan was to succeed. And the plan could not fail. Something you would make clear to him once you were both far away from here.

Truthfully, you should have anticipated something like this. Soldier Boy was volatile, unpredictable at best, but once you had gotten him to switch off the nuke in his chest, you had naively thought you could get him out with a low body count. That certainly wasn’t the case now. You were grateful that you were already mid-op because you knew if you weren’t, Mallory would have immediately shut you down. No way in hell was that happening. 

That last thought spurred you into action. You nodded and sheathed both of your swords, heading towards the van. A strong hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“Choose something else,” he ordered.

You shot him an irritated glare. “That’s the vehicle they have set up for us. Which means there’s keys, gas — the works.”

“It also means they can track us.” You were slightly surprised but you kept it off of your features. “Butcher and his cumguzzler thought I wasn’t listening to their bitchfests when they were tracking down my old team for me.” His eyes snapped to yours. “I was.”

Of course he had been. You could see now that this was something everyone had missed when dealing with him in the past, his most recent foray into the modern world included. Butcher and his team had been so focused on the danger the Supe presented and his lethality, that they hadn’t realized just how closely he had been listening and watching. Several examples of this behavior flickered through his mind quickly and you saw every single one which had always turned things to his advantage while turning badly (sometimes deadly) for others. Butcher and Hughie had easily dismissed him as a fossil who didn’t know what a smartphone was. Even Mallory had said he was the most idiotic of all the Supes to ever exist. And he had let them. He let them think he was the Soldier Boy they had seen on their TV screens once upon a time, in old newspaper clippings, and what had been jotted down in his file over the years he had been active with Vought: the public persona and the demanding celebrity personality behind all of that. But this Soldier Boy…this one was far more clever, calculating, and you knew then that this was where the real danger resided. A quick flash of a woman you recognized as Crimson Countess bound to a chair in a double wide followed by an explosion and another image of her charred corpse afterwards confirmed your suspicions. 

Right now, any other person having realized what you just did, they might have turned back. Or they would get him to the next location and bow out, let Butcher and Mallory handle it from there on out. But you weren’t that person and you were fully in this. You had started this and you were committed to see it all the way through. And see it through you would, come hell or high water or murderous Supes. There was no other option; there never had been from the moment you woke up with a foreign chemical running through your veins, enhanced abilities, and fine-tuned senses. What you just discovered about the Supe currently glaring you down could only help the plan in the long run while also ensuring you were even more careful than you already planned to be.

You turned to face him fully and stared into his eyes. “Understood.” You wanted him to know that you knew, even if he didn’t know how yet, and that despite that, you were still sticking to the plan which included him.

He studied you for a moment and you could see that while he was still unsure about you, he was deciding to trust you…for now. He released your shoulder and slightly relaxed his stance. 

“Any ideas?” Since he had changed this part of the plan, you figured he could offer up an alternative.

“Don’t care as long as it runs.” He glanced towards the lot filled with other heavy duty vehicles. 

“Agreed. But we still need to move. We don’t have long before the cameras turn back on.” You immediately made your way towards a dark blue SUV sitting parked near a curb. You had a feeling this may have belonged to some of the agents he had just killed, but it only meant three things to you: keys, gas, and a working car that could handle the speed and damage you would need to get out of here. You tried the back door, finding it unlocked, and you immediately knew you had been right. No one was coming to reclaim this vehicle, not for a while anyway. 

You quickly removed the scabbard from your back and slipped it into the backseat before jumping behind the wheel. Soldier Boy hopped in next to you, watching you as you turned the engine over. You didn’t bother mentioning that once Mallory and Butcher figured out you were in this vehicle, they could track it as well; that would only be counterproductive to the plan and make him more suspicious of you. 

You pulled away from the curb and sped out of the lot. When you got near the security booth, a platoon of armed guards tried to flag you down. This was one of the reasons why the office supplies van had been selected. You could have removed your gear and passed yourself off as a delivery driver; Mallory had already greenlit that part of the plan. This…well, you would need to improvise. 

You glanced over at Soldier Boy who was scowling in their direction. “Hang on,” you warned. Not that he needed to; he’d already proven that nothing could damage or even dent that super strong body of his. You, on the other hand, had to duck down as you pressed the gas pedal to the floor, gunning it. Bullets began flying towards your car but you didn’t let up, not even when you presumably hit a couple of the guards in your bid to escape. You felt Soldier Boy’s hand roughly push you down further in your seat and his other hand land next to yours on the wheel. A few more sickening thuds, pings from bullets, and wet crunches when the car jumped up slightly as your wheels mowed over those who hadn’t moved, and then you were scot free.

“We’re clear,” Soldier Boy gruffed out next to you, releasing you and moving back into his seat. 

You lifted up and glanced in your sideview mirror, seeing the destruction you had just caused getting further and further away. You tried to feel remorse about it, you really did, but that emotion — any emotion — was the gateway to weakness and you couldn’t afford that. Especially not now. 

“You injured?” 

You weren’t but you slid your hood back and automatically glanced down at yourself to double check. “Nope. You?”

You looked up at him and as expected, his bare muscular chest was smooth, free of any injuries. His arms and face contained barely a shadow of a bruise, never mind an actual wound. He noticed your perusal of him and his lips twisted into a cocky smirk. An image of him railing you in the backseat had you turning back to the road, trying to mask your disgust. 

“I’m good, doll,” he assured you. “Real good. Fucking horny as shit, though. It’s been a while. Think you can find us a place to pull over and let me fuck you quick?”

This was going to be a long ride. “Seems to me your right hand is free.”

Instead of being annoyed at your answer, he only smirked wider. “Is that your way of telling me you’d like me to start us off by jerking it while you look for a place?”

“No,” You met his gaze head on. “That’s my way of telling you not to let your wrist cramp up on this mission because you’re going to be jerking it quite a bit.”

He seemed completely unbothered by your words. “You want to see my dick?”

You scoffed in disgust and focused back on the road.

“I’m fully hard right now and let me tell you, it is a fucking sight to behold. Extra strength wasn’t the only thing the V gave me.” His teeth dug into his bottom lip as he continued trying to convince you. “Women love my dick. There isn’t a woman I’ve fucked that has ever walked right again.”

“Wow,” you quipped. “Quite the selling point.”

He ignored your snarkiness. “You see it for yourself, dollface, and I guarantee you’ll be changing your mind. All I’ve gotta do is pull it out, right here, right now, and you’ll be begging for me to slip it inside you.”

You had noticed the bugle in his sweats out of the corner of your eye before you turned away just before; you knew he was telling you the truth. He was horny, hard, and literally about to whip it out. Not unless you shut him down hard. You may not be able to keep him from pleasuring himself right there next to you, but at least he would know there was no way in hell you were going anywhere near his supposedly legendary manhood. You wished you could tell that he was lying but you could only see images of women worshiping him and his body as he thought back over his vast amount of conquests. When you saw his hand reaching into his sweats from your peripherals, you decided the time to make your firm boundaries on this subject known was now.

“I’m never having sex with you so don’t even bother. I’m here to do a job and that job isn’t you, as much as you might like it to be. When we get to the motel, if you want to find an old lady willing to help you with your problem, fine by me. But this,” you gestured between the two of you. “Is never happening.”

He snickered next to you. “You say that now but I’m telling you, doll, one peek at my dick might change your mind. Or when you hear how fucking good I’m giving it to some other gal.” He turned another filthy smile on you. “But just know that when I’m wrecking that pussy, I’ll be thinking of you and how good I know you’d feel squeezing around me.”

The images of you in the throes of pleasure returned and you tensed, your jaw tightening, but you forced yourself to think only of the plan. “What every girl hopes to hear,” you muttered. You glanced in the rearview mirror and very far back, you noticed Butcher’s vehicle following you. You weren’t surprised; Mallory had never really turned the cameras off and it’s not like you hadn’t left a big blinking neon sign back there to get her attention on where you had exited the compound. 

Soldier Boy’s hand rubbed over the bulge in his pants a few times before he chuckled under his breath and went to look out his window. “So, you know who I am, you know my name… I don’t know yours. Why don’t you tell me?”

You clenched your fingers on the wheel and held your breath, focusing your vision on the rearview. 

A moment later, Soldier Boy turned to look at you, smirking. You subtly let out your breath and relaxed your grip on the wheel, placing your eyes back on the road. “I bet it’s a real pretty one. Come on, tell me.”

You could hear him dialing up the flirtation, switching from being direct to now trying to charm you. “Name’s Persephone.”

“Persephone? That is pretty but it sounds like a Supe name.”

You briefly glanced over at him. “It is.”

He seemed to think it over, nodding after a moment in approval. “What’s your real name?”

“Nope.” You shook your head.

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

You met his eyes once more. “Because you haven’t earned that yet.” You waited another moment before finally breaking away from his intense gaze.

You could see as he took you in, how his eyes roamed over you hungrily, and you knew the moment he decided to accept the challenge he was determined that you presented. Another chuckle escaped him and he looked out his window again. “Alright, doll. We’ll play it your way, for now. Besides, it’s really my name that matters in this situation here.”

Your brows began to furrow and you did your best to get a read on him. What was he talking about? “How so?”

You watched as he turned to look at you and you could feel the rush of desire that immediately ran through him as images of you screaming, begging, and moaning “Ben! Oh my god, Ben! Ben, don’t ever stop fucking me, please! Fuck, Ben! Fucking give it to me! Oh fuck, right there!” floated to the forefront of his mind. You knew what his words would be before he even said them. “Because you’ll be screaming it before long.”

The nausea from earlier was back but you tamped it down and waited until he turned away from you again. Your eyes flickered to the rearview mirror and relief consumed you when you noticed Butcher’s vehicle was no longer anywhere to be seen. Not only had you successfully distracted the Supe but the moment Soldier Boy became interested in the topic of you, Phase 4 of the overall plan began. Now you only had to get him to the motel, get him rested and recharged, and then your work could truly begin. Leading you all down the path to the only thing that mattered: the eradication of Vought, and the end of Homelander once and for all.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this series.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

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[monstermoviedean]

i feel like dabb avoids or writes himself out of really strong emotional moments (reactions to kevin's death and reactions to charlie's death were the first to come to mind). in 10x22 alone, we could have had stronger reactions from both winchesters plus cas and rowena, sam reacting to losing crowley, cas reacting to losing dean, dean reacting to anything he did. and we get none of that. because instead we need to see backstory on poor baby nerd cyrus styne so we feel sad when dean shoots him.

[samwinchesterdefender]

sam winchester and dogs - analysis

nobody really seems to talk about this. the other day, i saw that clip of sam and dean going through the memory of the time sam ran away for the first time in a while, and it made me think. we only see sam with dogs a handful of times in the series, at least owning them, and there’s a reason for that— dogs are a symbol of imperfect happiness for sam winchester.

⚠️there will be MAJOR spoilers in this post⚠️

example 1 - bones

we see bones in the episode when dean and sam are going through some of their best memories. one of sam’s is the time he ran away for two weeks and hid somewhere with a dog he found—bones—and lived off “funions and mr pibb”. people often criticize him for this in favor of dean, because dean tells him that john beat him for losing sam. however, people don’t really seem to mention the backstory for this (probably? not all the details line up, but this is seemingly the first time sam ran away) that we got for this later in the episode with sully.

in the episode, we get flashbacks of one part of sam’s childhood: dean and john were on another hunt and wouldn’t let him come with. he had asked sully, “ever think… about running away?” which sparked a conversation about sam’s future which ended in sam deciding to actually run away and ended with a cut back to present day.

sam had decided to run away because he was tired of feeling unvalued and hated the way he was currently living. he didn’t really hate his family— he was just a kid sick of being alone with no promise of change soon. when he ran away, though, he was still alone. he was just alone without promise of dean and john being home in a few days. he thought it would fix his problems, but it didn’t. he didn’t have the greatest relationship with john, but he did love dean. he didn’t really show it as a kid but dean was the only one who showed him real love, and he needed that. he didn’t have that anymore.

this is the first instance sam is shown owning a dog, and it comes after sam ran away for something he thought would fix his life but ended up not really measuring up in the end. he was ripped back from his little adventure right back into his old life. he couldn’t escape. he was free,

but he didn’t have dean.

example 2 - riot

one of the WORST plot lines on this show. i’ll say that. weird choice for sam. regardless, it stands with the analysis.

we all know how sam hit the dog and went to live with amelia instead of looking for dean. it came from the idea that dean used that one time they had evidently agreed on where if one of them died, the other would live a normal life. personally i don’t think sam would have actually done this at this point in the show, but whatever. dean had lisa and ben, and this was sam’s version. sam’s chance at normalcy. we see bits of his life with amelia develop over multiple episodes, and he was even living with her. amelia made him happy. and they really showed that dog a lot.

the dog lived with them, obviously. the second instance of sam owning a dog. sam was trying to start this new life for himself of being a guy who settles down with someone and lives his life in peace. of course, that didn’t really end up working for him, as he left amelia to go back to hunting.

yet again, we have a dog present during a time sam was trying to escape his problems and start over. sam was starting to get this life for himself that he never really thought he would have, but that he always had as an unattainable dream. he was free,

but he didn’t have dean.

example 3 - miracle

the final instance shown of sam owning a dog. dean had found this one, which, as we’ve seen from the takeaway of the two previous examples, was actually foreshadowing of dean’s death in the final episode.

unfortunately, we all remember how 15x20 starts with sam and dean in a semi-normal life. they’ve beat chuck. they’ve saved the world multiple times, and lost so many people in the process. they finally get some normalcy, while still keeping up the little hunting jobs. and then dean somehow dies on that damn rusty rebar.

immediately proceeding is what i can remember through heavy tears as an extremely sad montage of sam living his life without dean, permanently, with parallels to earlier scenes in the episode. then we get that shot of sam and miracle watching dean’s body burn.

dean had unknowingly found sam a companion before he died. this was what sam had left of his big brother. a dog. he took that dog with him when he left the bunker, and took care of him until the day he died. they had both loved that dog. sam had gotten a taste of a free life— a free life with his brother, unshackled by world-threatening evils. that was then forcibly taken away from him in an instant. he was once again alone. alone with miracle. he was free,

but he didn’t have dean.

[blacknedsoul-blog]

My bets on Nevermore's development

In the middle of the arc and with the White Raven divorce beginning, I think I feel comfortable betting on how all the story lines the comic has laid out so far will play out. A mixture of analysis and theories.

Duke and Montressor

I don't think Duke will die. For several reasons (one of which I'll explain below), but the main one is that Duke is a character who still has a lot to give: they've gone to the trouble of giving him a name, a past, a personality, and yet none of these things have been properly explored. The comic wouldn't really benefit from Duke dying because he still has a lot of interesting things to bring to the story.

Coupled with the fact that we're still learning how Spectres work, and with Duke unable to manifest, it's the perfect time to flesh out that part of the lore and give us a cool moment to show us his Spectre.

That said, I have a hard time seeing a way for Montressor to stay in the game once this issue is over: he's proven himself to be a menace that won't stop and an unmitigated sadist. The guy is just evil, and frankly, he didn't seem to have much more backstory or anything new to bring to the table.

My bet on him is that he'll die, maybe Lenore will go with the group in psycho-killer mode, Duke will confront him with his spectre, Morella will go against him to save Ada, Annabel will try to make merit so Lenore won't be asked for a divorce, or the Deans themselves will see him as a problem they need to take care of. If the comic thinks murder is irredeemable for its characters, maybe he'll have a Frollo-style death where it's his own ego that kills him (what if he becomes one of the creatures roaming the school?).

I think this because, besides how satisfying it would be to see him die, I think it would be a good time for the comic to show you the consequences of death within Nevermore. We know that going to the Land of the Dead is a terrible thing, but we don't know exactly what it entails. And seeing it would make any future threat seem more terrifying.

Post-Divorce

The White Raven will reconcile. This is obvious: the comic is about their relationship, the publicity for the comic has them together, and much of the appeal of the work comes from their romance. It's not a question of whether it will happen or not, but how it will happen and what the consequences will be.

Maybe some extraordinary event will happen to bring them back together, or we will have the equivalent of the Greenhouse 2.0 scene where they have a whole conversation about why, even if Lenore understands Annabel reasons, this is a situation that can never happen again.

One thing I want to point out here: I don't think Annabel did this out of jealousy. Maybe she feels it, but this story has made a consistent effort to show you that while Annabel is hypocritical, manipulative, and Machiavellian, she still has a moral compass: her reaction after when Montressor makes Ada bark and when Prospero is about to have a breakdown indicate that her limit is to hurt others gratuitously. She won't defend them if it puts her in a problematic situation, but this clearly pisses her; by that logic, it would even be out of character for her to try to hurt Duke because she's jealous, and more importantly, it would do irreparable damage to her relationship with Lenore (which is why I don't think our favorite Frenchman dies).

Understanding that, there's one thing these two haven't really talked about: for Lenore, getting her friends out of here is not something optional, she's completely determined to do it, and given this moment, it's very likely that the next step will be for Annabel to join the "save everyone" team: she thinks Lenore is capable of anything, and so she's going to put all her faith in her being able to pull this off.

Coupled with the fact that the plan to keep Lenore as a harmless figure went to hell after the incident in the tower, she's going to have to adjust things. And my theory on this is that Annabel is going to expand her rivalry plan to the group level.

I believe this because the logical conclusion after the banquet is that the Deans, for some reason, want the students to fight, to foster an atmosphere of competition among them. So far, giving them what they want has worked perfectly for them, so they would suggest that it would be helpful to pretend that things are going exactly as they think they are while they try to figure out how to get out of this place, at least until they can think of something better.

Yes, I assume Annabel will join the Misfits. She'll probably be like Zuko from Avatar, begging for forgiveness and winning them over one by one in individual arcs.

Another important development that will come out of this is that when Lenore is fed up enough with her bullshit, she will remind Annabel of her promise about how they both get their memories back: they are already right in the middle and it will be time to start putting the puzzle together.

However, I have reason to believe that Annabel will manage not to talk about the exact way they both died for a very simple reason: whether Lenore was Annabel's executioner or not, they died together. Lenore was there, and she will most likely blame herself because "if I hadn't gone looking for her, Annabel would still be alive" and for "not protecting her".

But by the time they have this conversation (or she finds out otherwise), the comic may be starting to address one of Lenore's major conflicts as a character: because of her fear of abandonment and her feeling that she is undeserving of love, she has no qualms about putting herself in danger to protect others. This is a terribly damaging perspective in the context that the Deans have created: not only is it naive to think that she can always protect her friends or Annabel from getting hurt, but Lenore unwittingly carries the feelings of the people who love her by endangering herself.

My head canon

Everything I've said so far is based on things the comic has shown and storylines that may not be explored in this specific way, but are more or less on the comic. But there's a lot of nonsense out there that I'd really like to see, even if there's little or nothing in the artwork to indicate to me that any of those things will come to fruition.

Annabel vs. Montressor

I would love to see Annabel vs. Montressor precisely because Annabel has no chance against Montressor: she has no experience in a fight, even if her spectre is a powerful one, Montressor would wipe the floor with her. But I think it would be a nice way to put a point: Annabel and Montressor are not the same.

He enjoys torturing others, she will be a villain to protect what she loves.

I can also think of two interesting things that could come out of this encounter: Lenore having her moment where she thinks Annabel is dead, parallel to the maze scene (for Lenore, Annabel is an unbeatable queen, so she could use a little reality check), and a conversation along those lines:

-L: Did you think that by putting yourself in danger like this I was going to forgive what you did?!

A: I didn't do this because I thought you would forgive me. Deep down, I know you already did, even though that doesn't mean I shouldn't face consequences for my actions.

-L: ...Then why?

-A: Because I promised you I would. I said I would distract our enemies, that I would protect you from my allies, and that's exactly what I did. I knew I couldn't handle him, but I was distracted and wounded enough to get the job done.

This would finally establish one thing that has been up in the air about Annabel: yes, she really behaves and acts like a villain. But after something like this, there would never be any doubt (for the readers or for Lenore) that she always keeps her promises.

Imagine the delicious drama that could come from establishing that so forcefully.

Eulalie is a Lennabel shipper

Come to think of it, the two of them haven't done a very good job of hiding it: we go from Lenore running all over school to take care of Annabel to watching them fight for no apparent reason.

I like to think that Eulalie seriously suspects something is going on between them, and when the Misfits inevitably find out about Annabel and Lenore's relationship, she'll be like, "Oh, you guys hadn't noticed?" while saying things like, "Oh, so you're the one who took us to the haunted mansion!"

Annabel and Berenice as unlikely friends

I love the image of Berenice physically threatening Annabel with the knife and saying something like "You're a posh bitch, but you've got style" after she doesn't react in fear. I also think Bernice would be the first to admit that while she won't easily forgive Annabel for putting Duke in danger, she wouldn't have hesitated to throw Annabel, Prospero, Ada, or Will under the bus to protect any of her group of friends if necessary.

Also, the idea of Annabel saying, "She's a violent slur. I want her around" is oddly hilarious to me.

Prospero as the ultimate "tired friend"

If Annabel takes Prospero with her, I can imagine the guy banging his head against the wall all the time because he sees all these idiots who are strangely competent when you get right down to it, but choose to spend their energy doing stupid things when no one is dying.

A terrible deal between Duke and Annabel

Remember that wonderful scene in Avatar where Katara threatens to kill Zuko if she thinks he's going to hurt Aang? I like to think that Duke and Annabel will have a scene like that:

-D: They didn't see the look on your face when they put up the wall, but I did. And I can assure you that I won't hesitate to act if I think you're going to hurt my friend or any of them, cherie.

-A: Promise?

-D: ...

-A: That you will be there to protect her no matter what, even from me. I wouldn't mind you holding the sword of Damocles over my head if it proves to me that you can protect her from any threat.

-D: You have my word.

In conclusion

So that's my bingo on how things will go in the comic from here on out. There are some things (like Morella's development, what's going to happen with Ada, or when the hell we're going to get some backstory on Will) that I don't think I have enough information on to theorize. But here it is.

[david-talks-sw]

An argument I hear from time to time is the following:

"I don't care that this novel is considered Legends, if it was canon when George Lucas was in charge of Lucasfilm, it's still canon to me now. Whatever George says is what counts, I don't care what Disney says."

Putting the Expanded Universe's Star Wars and George Lucas' Star Wars in the same basket. And that's, uh... inaccurate.

So without further ado, let's explore:

George Lucas’ involvement in the Expanded Universe

Early years of the EU...

When the first bit of EU content came out in the form of the novel Splinter of the Mind's Eye, Lucas was too busy working on the films, so Alan Dean Foster wrote it by himself (which explains why Luke and Leia's relationship plays out romantically).

After the movies came out, when new material was going to be created, George told Lucas Licensing and other authors that the Prequel era was off-limits to write about, because he might tell that story one day.

Beyond that, they could go to town and write sequels, for instance. After all, part of why Star Wars was created was to let people's imagination run wild and George was happy to let other artists play in the sandbox he created.

That said, things were very clear from the get-go.

These weren't his stories.

The Thrawn books, Dark Empire, all this material was explicitly just Tom Veitch and Timothy Zahn and whoever else's creation. Not George's, who was described by Lucas Licensing's Lucy Autrey Wilson as "not very involved".

The most he did was answers "OK/Not OK" questionnaires about what the EU writers could or couldn't write.

Telling Yoda's backstory? Not OK.

Telling Han's backstory, between the Prequel and Ep. 4? OK.

Having someone wear Vader's suit after his death? Not OK.

The Emperor returning in a clone body? OK.

So that's it. That was his involvement in the 90s.

Him saying "don't write something set during this/that period".

"OK/Not OK" questionnaires.

It's also worth mentioning he didn't approve of Mara Jade, Luke's wife in the EU. In his mind, "Jedi don't marry".

Rather, the character herself wasn't an issue... until she married Luke. When Timothy Zahn asked for Luke and Mara to be married or engaged, back in 1993, Lucasfilm initially vetoed the idea.

According to Brian Jay Jones (author of "A Life", George Lucas' biography), in 1995 George convened a 'Star Wars Summit' wherein he gathered licensees and international agents to Skywalker Ranch to reinforce "the need for him to maintain quality control, especially in the areas of publishing, where some characters—such as Luke Skywalker, who’d been given a love interest in a fiery smuggler named Mara Jade—were living lives far beyond the ones he had written for them in the original trilogy".

Sources:

During the Prequels...

George Lucas was writing and directing three movies with large themes, shot almost back-to-back, commuting between Australia and California. That's hard enough as it is.

Also, in the 90s, most movies were still shot on film. During the making of Phantom Menace, Lucas shot parts of the film by combining prototype digital Sony cameras and using them in combination with videotapes, rather than shooting on film.

For Attack of the Clones, George worked with Panavision and Sony to develop fully digital cameras, which eventually became the standard.

As if that wasn't enough, by making the Prequels, Lucas and ILM were also creating fully-digitized worlds (Coruscant, Geonosis) and characters (Jar Jar, Yoda) and laying the groundwork for the CGI technology that has now become essential for today's blockbusters.

Having established all this...

Do you really think he had the time or the patience to read through a bunch of novels and guidebooks?!

Simply put: George Lucas was too busy revolutionizing cinema to be involved in the development of the EU.

So if you ask George who Tahl or Vitiate are, or what the Stark Hyperspace War or a vapor manifold are, if you ask him to recite you the Sith Code... he'll grumble and say "heck if I know".

He outright admitted that fans know more Star Wars lore than him.

Because SOMEBODY ELSE wrote that stuff.

And he let them do it because:

It made money. A lot of money, especially after TPM came out. Money that could fund his next films. You don't mess with licensing. Hell, it's why he was so cool with there being all those Star Wars parodies.

He didn't see those stories as canon anyway, so it couldn't hurt. He saw them as a separate universe, an alternate timeline wherein the films happened ALONG with all these other tales.

So associating the EU content with Lucas is unreasonable. He was too busy, so he just let Howard Roffman, Lucy Autrey Wilson, Sue Rostoni and Lucas Licensing do their thing and crank out new stories and transmedia content for the fans.

It was a one-way relationship. The licensing parallel universe needed to have some internal consistency AND adhere to what Lucas established in the new films movies (which was difficult because they weren't involved in the production process), but he didn't need to be in line or consistent with anything they established.

Now, George did set some guidelines/boundaries and there were obviously do's and don'ts. But once those boundaries were set and the brief was established, the authors had a lot of freedom and, like, 99% of their interaction was with their editors from the respective publishing houses (Scholastic, Del Rey, Dark Horse) and the folks at Lucas Licensing.

George was only really brought in to sign off on, like, some of the major plot points only once in a blue moon. Stuff like:

"Let's make a Maul novel". George would go "fine, just keep him mysterious."

"What species should Plagueis be?" George: "he could be a Muun, here's concept art."

Nothing more than that. Again: the Expanded Universe was other storyteller's interpretation of what Lucas had created.

Sometimes, it was spot on and it aligned with George's vision.

Other times, this additional lore was created by writers who didn't know what he was doing with the Prequels, so they were in the dark regarding certain plot points.

And then you have the authors who absolutely disagreed with George's vision of the Prequels, or of Star Wars, in general, but wanted to engage with the material nonetheless.

Which is why, whilst sometimes the EU fixed some plot-holes, sometimes the EU had inconsistencies.

Inconsistencies such as Ki-Adi Mundi being a Knight on the Council, who is married and has kids (when the Jedi being prohibited from marrying is a major plot point in the Prequels)...

… or the Jedi being essentially superhuman (when one of the narrative reasons Qui-Gon is killed is to show that the Jedi are mortals, not supermen)…

... or other stuff like Mace having a blue lightsaber for a period (because who the hell knew purple was an option?!) or some Jedi having red lightsabers, or Sith Lords being able to become ghosts after death, when that's a feat you can only achieve by being selfless.

It's also why you get conflicting definitions of what the Jedi call "attachment" or conflicting narratives trying to reframe midi-chlorians as a cold, intentionally-flawed way of seeing the Force (when they're meant to be a beautiful metaphor for symbiosis and how the Force works).

And it makes sense that some of this stuff wouldn't track, considering how Lucas stated multiple times that he didn't have anything to do with it, that it was a separate universe from his own...

Safe to say that if George had any involvement in the EU, it was so minimal that he, himself, didn't count it as "involvement".

Additional sources:

Later years of the EU...

After the Prequels were over and done with, Lucas created The Clone Wars with Dave Filoni. At first, he'd just suggest a few storylines, but he quickly got VERY involved in the whole process. Far more involved than he ever was with EU content.

And y'know... Dave Filoni is a massive Star Wars fan and an avid EU reader. So, from time to time, Filoni would bring up EU material for Lucas to consider during the story conferences, and they'd look at what was out there together.

But it's important to note that George's stance toward the EU didn't change and became a rule for everyone on the writing staff: the EU content was nothing more than a pool of "fun what-if ideas" that they could draw inspiration from.

If they could, they'd try to not mess with continuity... but if the story called for it, they could retcon anything without batting an eye. Because it wasn't canon to them.

It's why author Karen Traviss quit working with Lucasfilm after the Mandalorians were retconned into pacifists in The Clone Wars.

The only things that were truly canon were:

George Lucas' own word.

The movies.

Previously established The Clone Wars lore.

And that's it.

Everything else was somebody's else's concern. Not George's.

Sources:

This way of seeing the EU continued all the way to the time shortly before George sold the company to Disney as his drafts for the Sequels featured:

no Jacen, Jaina or Anakin Solo (Han and Leia's kids from the EU),

a still-alive Chewbacca (who died, later in the EU),

no "New Jedi Order".

Every version of George's Sequels ignored the EU.

Which would explain why the EU reboot was planned in the summer of 2012 (when Lucas was in charge)!

I'll repeat: the EU reboot was planned months BEFORE George Lucas sold the company to Disney.

Because of course it was! It's a natural result of 30 years' worth of content that's so intermeshed that it would stop future artists - namely George himself - from creating anything else.

Sources:

Exceptions to the rule:

1. Comics (kinda)

He did read the comics. Or at least, he gave them a glance.

Aside from the fact that he grew up reading comics, understand that George Lucas is a visual artist, first and foremost.

That's what he's about and that's what he loves, that's what speaks to him. There's a reason his upcoming Museum of Narrative Art will feature comic panels and pages of all kind.

During pre-production on Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith, Lucas had the art team draw concept art before a script had ever been written so he'd have ideas for set-pieces.

Later on, J.W. Rinzler pitched him the idea of adapting his early drafts for Star Wars into comic form. Lucas' initial reaction was going "hell no". Rinzler had concept art made…

… and George took one look and was on board.

So it's not a stretch to assume that a book telling a story through beautiful drawings would catch his attention more than a novel.

Case in point: He knew who Quinlan Vos was and was enamored with the character. He knew Aayla enough to put her in Attack of the Clones after seeing a cover of Republic by John Forster featuring her (below, left).

(although, it's worth pointing out that he doesn't call her out by name a single time, in the director's commentary of the Attack of the Clones, she's just the "Twi'Lek Jedi" and her inclusion was done mainly to add more diversity to the Jedi fighting in the arena)

Over a decade later, when the comic Star Wars #7 came out in 2015, Lucasfilm acquired artist Simone Bianchi's original 20 pages and cover art for George, so he could feature it in his the Museum of Narrative Art:

So at the very least, he looked at the comics and admired the visuals.

Whether he actually read the comics in detail or just skimmed through most of them because he liked the pretty pictures (likelier, imo) is an entirely different matter.

Sources:

2. Video-Games (kinda)

Lucas would periodically check in on the status of LucasArts games, lending creative input and advice.

Sometimes, his advice ranged from "weird" to "he's gotta be fucking with us, right?"

Apparently, he advised the team developing Star Wars: The Force Unleashed that they dub Starkiller "Darth Insanius" or "Darth Icky".

And you know what? I have no trouble believing it.

Firstly because if you're going by the idea that he gave no fucks about the EU, then of course he'll come up with "meh" names. But also, this is the same guy who created "Winkie" in 2012/2013, the character who'd go on to be named "Rey".

He also told the team creating Star Wars: 1313 that he wanted a fresh face as the main character, then only weeks before the game was announced he went "let's make it Boba Fett".

Finally... the cancelled Darth Maul game by Red Fly.

Codenamed “Damage”, then “Battle of the Sith Lords”. Think Batman: Arkham City meets Star Wars.

Red Fly pitched it as a coming of age story where we see Maul be kidnapped, tortured, eventually joining the Dark Side, and ending in TPM. Then they had interactions with LucasArts and found out Maul survived his fight with Obi-Wan.

The game went through several iterations, partly because the people at Red Fly were kept in the dark about the developments in The Clone Wars (Season 4 wasn't out yet), and even when some tidbits came out and they knew characters like Savage Oppress and Death Watch would be included, they didn't get more details.

Whatever. They do their best to make something from what they're told. Then they have a meeting with George. As this GameInformer article explains:

“A friendly George Lucas entered the room and was eager to hear the pitch from Red Fly’s creatives. “Before they could finish their spiel, Lucas cut them off, stood up, walked over to [two Sideshow Collectibles statues of Darth Maul and Darth Talon], rotated them to be facing the same direction, pushed them together, and said ‘They’re friends!’” adds the source. “He wanted these characters to be friends, and to play off of each other. […] The problem with the idea of Maul and Talon teaming up for a buddy cop-like experience was that they were separated by over 170 years […] When this vast time divide was brought up to Lucas’ attention, he brushed off the notion of it not working, and said that it could instead be a descendant of Darth Maul or a clone of him.”

So now the game is about a descendant of Maul, guided by his ancestor and fighting a redesigned Darth Krayt, etc?

The game was eventually cancelled when George sold the company.

Worth pointing out that this was circa 2010/2011... around the time that George started working on his Sequels, according to Jett Lucas. And we know that the treatment for the Sequels that Lucas presented to Bob Iger featured old man Maul and Darth Talon as the villains of the trilogy... take from that what you will.

3. The Prequel novelizations (kinda)

They were all given a copy of Lucas' screenplay.

While most of their work was with Sue Rostoni, Lucy Autrey Wilson, and Howard Roffman on the Lucasfilm team (like some of the other authors), Terry Brooks, R.A. Salvatore and Matthew Stover all spent a bit of time with George before writing their respective novels.

George told Terry Brooks to write some additional material for Anakin Skywalker because there wasn't enough of that in the movie. He was shown rushes from the set, they "opened the safe" for him. When Terry had further questions re: midi-chlorians and the history of the Sith, George goes on a 30-minute monologue about all that.

R.A. Salvatore had a 45-minute interview with him that turned into a 3-hour chat. He was able to go back to the Ranch a few times during the writing process, and one of those times George chatted with him and his wife during lunch. He was shown various cuts of the film and concept art.

Matthew Stover and George talked for a whole afternoon (I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume he was also shown the other stuff like some cuts/deleted scenes, concept art, etc etc).

Was there a line-edit of the ROTS novel from Lucas? Regarding the Revenge of the Sith novelization, some people bring up the idea that George Lucas did a line-edit on the book because Stover wrote this statement on theforce.net:

That said...

Stover, also stated that Lucas told him to write whatever he wanted as long as it was good,

he also said he didn't actually see Lucas type the edits,

an anonymous Del Rey editor stated on theforce.net that the notion that George edited the novel himself is "extremely incorrect".

There's enough "reasonable doubt" for the argument to be made that the Revenge of the Sith novelization was edited the same way as any other Star Wars novel, rather than by George himself.

The fact remains, though, that it was a novel written by someone who understood the source material, as it was explained to him in detail by George Lucas himself (a luxury many SW authors never got).

Lucas' backstory for the Sith in the TPM novel: If Pablo Hidalgo is to be believed, the backstory of the Sith, as detailed in the Phantom Menace novelization, came from Lucas.

(Obviously, I'd allow for the very likely possibility that there was some embellishment by Terry Brooks)

20 years later, however, it seems George decided to stick to the idea that there was no war between the Jedi and the Sith.

Final thought:

A lot of people will insist that George was involved in spite of all the above-posted evidence. Saying stuff like:

"But [X person] said that it was canon..."

Sometimes, they’ll link you to this whole website collecting quotes of other people saying "the EU was canon" (never George Lucas except for, like, one/two quotes where he acknowledges the existence of Sequel books which MUST mean he saw them as canon, right?) and...

On the one hand... of course they'll all vaguely say he's "involved" and tip-toe around the subject; it's technically true and, again, they're trying to make money. It's a business, folks.

On the other... yeah? Duh. Of course it was canon to Lucas Licensing and the authors who wrote for the EU. But it wasn't canon to George. And I just gave you a whole bunch of quotes directly from him and/or the same people quoted on that website, all confirming that he didn't see them as canon and he wasn't involved (or barely was).

Other times, we're straight-up approaching "burying head in the sand/lalalala I'm not listening!" levels of justifications.

Like, we just talked about the Sith's origins, right?

I remember a while ago, this Star Wars YouTuber was reviewing this quote from Lucas, in The Star Wars Archives: 1999-1995:

The YouTuber's reaction the second after reading the quote is saying:

"And of course, what George is referring to, here, is the Battle of Ruusan and the Brotherhood of Darkness using the Thought Bomb created by Lord Khan to kill the Jedi Lord Hoth and…"

My guy! You read a whole excerpt that started with "there was never a war between the Jedi and the Sith" and the words "Ruusan" or "Thought Bomb" never being mentioned once in the passage (or in the TPM novelization)... and concluded that George was referring to the Jedi/Sith Battle of Ruusan? And all that other EU stuff?

See what I mean, folks?

Now, look, I grew up with these stories (heck, I grew up with these stories in three different languages). So I get it. I know they're awesome.

And, yes, there is a difference between the kind of content we used to get and the content we're getting now (for one, lightsabers used to be lightsabers, in video-games, not baseball bats).

But if you're trying to prop up the EU, the facts show that the "George Lucas signed off on them" authority argument isn't a valid one. Because he clearly wasn't very interested or involved in it.

And why would you want to use this authority argument, anyway?

You shouldn't need to say "this came from Lucas" to like those stories. They don't need to be George Lucas Approved™ to matter and to be validated as "worthy of appreciation". They're valid on their own, they're great stories. And if you like them better than the Sequels, go to town. I know I do.

The only thing you can't do (with a straight face, at least) is hold them up as "the True Lucas-Approved Canon™ as opposed to the Disney Trash" in a rant, because you'd be wrong and/or lying. Neither had Lucas' hand in them in any meaningful way.

Finally... I was devastated when the EU was officially made non-canon, in 2014. And for a few years, I saw the new Star Wars continuity through this lens:

"Any EU content is still canon unless it's directly retconned...!"

Trust me, when I say that only pain lies that way. Because that's not how a lot of Star Wars creators, including the Flanelled One himself, see it. The way they saw/see it is:

"Unless it's been shown in a movie or TCW... it's a legend, it might have happened."

This line of thought seems to be increasingly applied to the new Disney canon too, by the way. "If it's not shown on a screen, then it's probably canon yet also up for grabs to be retconned."

And the sooner you accept that this is how it's being treated, the sooner you accept that the EU was never canon to Lucas or Filoni...

... the less painful it'll be when, I dunno, you watch The Acolyte and it's nothing like the Darth Plagueis novel or Plagueis himself is absent, or he's there, but as an Ithorian instead of a Muun.

(note how I didn't use the word "painless")

[chaotic-starlight24]

Dallas Winston General Headcanons

This is the last part of the Dallas headcanons :) Please check out Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3 of his backstory!

Sorry if anything is ooc! Warnings: Mentions of trauma, death, description of grief

He brags about his many scars from dangerous games. For example, he prides himself in the game where you try to get the knife between all of your fingers.

He genuinely likes a lot of movies. He just doesn’t show it. Also, most of the new movies don’t have anything interesting to them so he just looks at girls or talks to Johnny/Pony. But he will shut up and be glued to the screen when the theater or drive-in is replaying James Dean movies. He will literally shush Ponyboy, he just really likes James Dean. (He probably had a Rebel Without a Cause jacket made for him by Mrs. Curtis)

His aforementioned Norwegian mother (part 1) taught him the Hardanger Fiddle (When he was like 7) It was one of the very few bonding activities he had with her. He still has his original fiddle and while traveling around, a mother in Memphis fixed it for him after he ran an errand for her. He doesn’t play it much but he does sometimes sit alone at Buck’s and play melodies he remembers. He doesn’t like playing it around many people because playing takes a lot of energetic movements. The gang has heard him before but only like once.

His father and him had one or two bonding activities like once a week or so, mainly knife throwing. So Dally has great aim with just about any object. He would also occasionally try to play poker with him. But this did not happen very often since both parents were alcoholics and everything and his father was an especially angry one.

He needs a lot of time to wrap his mind around a lot of concepts, but once he has it down he's amazing at it! (Hardanger fiddle, stealing, knife throwing)

At the Curtis parent funeral he held himself together pretty well. He pretended to not be quite as bothered and used the excuse that he had seen worse things and that he was mainly concerned for the brothers. But when he got to Buck's he sobbed quietly for hours and didn't come out for a while. That was when he really did become a very cold person. He never opened his heart to anyone new after that. He started to believe that he couldn’t care about anyone because he was the curse that caused them to die. If it wasn’t for the gang he probably would have left Tulsa.

His mom was one of nine siblings so Dally has a lot of cousins. He saw several of them frequently and was especially friends with one named Joel. They mainly conversed through letters as his cousin lived in Windrixville. They always had a plan to meet up together and maybe fix up the abandoned church and make it into a hangout. His mother wasn’t particularly focused on teaching him much about their culture so he learned some things from his cousins. He still remembers bits and pieces of the language and pronounces names with a Norwegian accent every so often.

He always keeps his jacket on in the summer unless going swimming. He says it’s to look tuff but it’s actually because he gets eaten alive by mosquitos or sunburned to the fact he’s neon red.

His oldest sister, Elizabeth in English spelling, would sing him Scandinavian lullabies to help him fall asleep at night and he still finds himself humming the tunes when doing busywork. (Examples if you want to listen: Vargsången, Trollsmor Vaggvisa, Klatremus’ Voggevisa)

He lost his New York accent but sometimes he pronounces words with a really thick one. He doesn’t really have a southern accent either but overall it’s kind of a mix between them. “C’mon upstays, Johnny.” “Huh?” “I mean upstairs.”

He really likes bread. Noone really knows why either. But his problem is he doesn’t really like the store bought bread. In his words, “It’s just unnatural how long it stays good, man.” So he swipes a lot from bakeries. Mrs. Curtis also taught him how to make it but he doesn’t often because he thinks it’s weird he knows how. Also no one should trust him with an oven. But sometimes Soda will come home to Dally just munching on a loaf fresh from their oven. 

But bouncing off that, he will eat just about any other food no matter how old it is. Maybe it’s because he’s always hungry. Maybe his immune system is that strong. No one really knows. Darry once found him munching on a block of cheese that had some mold and just threw it out the window. Dally was very upset because “He was really hungry!”. He also says that he doesn’t like things going to waste. 

It’s a surprise if he doesn’t end a sentence with man or kid. It’s just what everyone gets called. Except Mrs. Curtis. He called her man once and was promptly given the “glare of disapproval”. Safe to say he never did it again. (Everyone laughed afterward, don’t worry.)

The main reason he dated Sylvia so many times was because he wanted a relationship where he actually loved the person. He had so many meaningless ones that lasted a week at most. Both of them were not particularly healthy to each other since Dally was never in a proper relationship and Sylvia took advantage of him. But both of them had their flaws ofc.

I mentioned in Part 2 that Dallas went through a really big tornado while in Indiana, and you know he ended up in OKLAHOMA. Which is known for its large amounts of tornadoes. Because of this fear that he ended up having, he became really sensitive to thunderstorms. The rest of the gang is always relaxed when listening to the rain and thunder, but Dally will grip Johnny’s arm so hard he almost loses circulation. The gang caught on rather quickly and tried their best to calm him down. Mrs. Curtis and Two-Bit were the best at this and would just talk to him as if nothing was happening outside. Dally always tries to act super tough during storms and manages to keep his calm but there’s been several times where a crack of thunder will shake the house and he will legit scream. Whenever there is a tornado warning or anything he will sit in the closet and use the excuse that he’s just tired and it’s loud outside. 

His rings and necklace are his prized possessions. His necklace and 2 of his rings are from Snake Eyes (Part 1 goes more into detail) and the rest are ones he has collected throughout his travels.

Thank you guys for reading through my super large amount of headcanons :) Ponyboy and Darry are next but might not have as large of an amount of stuff!

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Pomposo

Chapter Fourteen

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam, Dean/Jo, John/Kate, Adam, Ellen, Garth/Bess (in passing), Cas and Mary (mentioned)

Word Count: 4559

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining. MORE BACKSTORY AHEAD, story takes place currently in Dec 2017, flashback to Jan. 2004 in italics, talk of Sam's past use of hard drugs, hangovers, vomit, car accidents, injuries, character death, guilt, John was not so great a parent or husband, some paraphrasing of last chapter unbeta'd

Special shout out to @thoughtslikeaminefield who helped immensely on sorting out the backstory for this chapter too, way back when I started outlining this thing.

Series Masterlist

Sam settled on some old school soul music to start their road trip and Dean couldn’t even come up with a reason to complain. Aretha sang in the background and they headed east, the world was their oyster and all that. Dean held onto the small bit of smug satisfaction from the interview with Meg as the city disappeared behind them. She really wanted him to crack, but he hadn't and that gave him some hope for going home.

They veered north for a bit and continued on I-40 until they hit Flagstaff. Dean liked the mountains, the air was infinitely better than LA and there was something about spending the holidays where it got cold that made sense. Unfortunately, it was just an overnight stay. How they managed a room in the first hotel they tried, he’d never know. He just shuffled in with his duffel bag and his ball cap over his now sleep-sloppy hair. There was a player-piano in the lobby and Dean had the fleeting thought about how Cas was spending the holidays.

Maybe he’d try and leave him another message, it had been months.

Sam called Madison after dinner and Dean decided to check out the amenities in order to not have to watch Sam get all goopy. Dean hadn’t packed a bathing suit, but a gym’s a gym even if it’s just three treadmills, a stair climber and free weights. So, he jogged for a little bit, watching whatever passed for news. He forgot his earbuds in the room and it really wasn’t worth going back for, he was finding his groove even without music as a buffer to the world around him.

After a solid 5k, Dean stepped down to stretch. Which worked out because a couple in their fifties came in just as he started some curls, leaving the treadmills open for their evening stroll. They talked about their family, the wife explaining what she got each of their grandchildren and where they were supposed to be on which day. Perfectly normal people conversation, but something about it made Dean sad, so he tried to tune them out and focus on his reps.

Part of his life after Cain and Alistair was a loss of gym time. Sure, he could work out at home or even do laps around the neighborhood, but it wasn’t the hours in the ring or at the bag or with a jump rope full-body-punishment that he had worked himself up to. It was also a lot more peaceful, less reactionary. And Dean decided he would find a balance between stagnation and self-destruction. Twenty eighteen was just around the corner afterall.

Dean got back to the room in time to shower and crash. If they wanted to push it, they could make it to their Dad’s place the next day. But neither of them were in a hurry, even in Sam’s fuckboy Charger it was nice to be on the road together. Dean took the first stretch towards Albuquerque, but Sam called it in Santa Fe. He had thought ahead and booked them a hotel instead of chancing it again, which surprised Dean for some reason. Sam had gone and gotten to be responsible while Dean was busy fishing himself out of professional purgatory.

“You talk to Bela?” Sam asked as they waited for their pizza to be delivered. 

“Uh, she texted me that she landed at Heathrow, but not really. Why?” Dean asked after taking a sip of his beer.

“Wasn’t sure if you guys were doing the whole gift exchange thing,” Sam shrugged. “Madison made me wait until after we get back to give her hers.”

Dean chuckled. “I don’t want to know what you’re giving her, alright?”

Sam rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored the innuendo. “Won’t people be asking about what you got her?”

Dean hadn’t really thought about it. “I guess I could ask Trouble for some ideas, see if she thinks it’s necessary we post about it. I don’t know, I was kind of hoping of forgetting about the whole thing until New Year’s at Elizabeth’s, you know?”

Sam leveled Dean with a glare. “You know Dad is gonna ask to meet her.”

Dean set down his beer. “Well it’s a good thing she’s halfway across the world then.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Mom loved that show,” Sam said thoughtfully.

He was right. Dean had completely forgotten about why he’d recognized Bela the first time they’d met at your housewarming party way back when. But, yeah, Mary had watched ‘Red Sky in the Morning’ every Tuesday night after she put them to bed. Once Dean reached junior high, he was able to persuade her to let him stay up and watch too.

“I can’t believe it was on as long as it was, it was fucking awful,” Dean said playfully.

“Yeah, but it was her escape,” Sam added gently.

Dean took a long pull off his beer. “I guess so.”

When Sam went to meet the delivery driver, Dean turned on the television, banking on some sort of Christmas special to take his mind off memory lane. They ate quietly, letting last minute sales commercials drown out their thoughts. Tomorrow they were going home, or as close to it as they had outside of LA. Dean felt lopsided over getting to see Adam, having to navigate his dad, and tiptoeing Kate’s well-meaning but invasive nature.

But that’s family for you, nothing more important than that.

Dean rolled over on the couch, something had woken him up and he was too hungover to let it win. But it didn’t stop, a trilling sound coming from his pants pocket, fuck, it was his phone. He cracked one eye open and checked the caller id.

He closed his eyes and answered. “Morning, beautiful.”

“Dean Winchester?” a harried voice asked, decidedly not Jo.

“Ellen?”

“Yeah, listen— there’s been an accident. Jo and Y/N were T-boned on Hound Drive last night. Can you come to the hospital? I just came home for a change of clothes, but I’m heading back there now.”

Dean sat up, liquor and a headache dulling his reflexes. “Ellen? What are they saying?”

“She’s in the ICU. I— we need you there.”

 Terror flooded Dean’s system, churning with a relentless guilt. Jo wouldn’t have been out so late if it wasn’t to see him. He swallowed. “Uh, of course. Do you want me to drive you? I can be there in ten minutes.”

“I’ll pick you up. I’ve got my truck, the roads are still a mess.”

“Right, okay, I’m at Dad and Kate’s— do you–”

“I’ll be there soon.”

“Ellen? Be careful.”

“Don’t you start young man.”

“Yes ma’am.” 

Ellen hung up.

Dean stumbled into the bathroom and threw up. He didn’t have time for a shower. Instead he grabbed his shaving kit and threw on a fresh layer of deodorant and brushed his teeth. He pounded three Advil with the water from one of those flowery Dixie cups Kate kept in a plastic dispenser on the counter. He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror, he knew how bad he must look. He stomped back into the living room and swapped his sweaty flannel for one that smelled neutral from his duffel. Adam showed up as Dean was shoving his boots on.

“Dean? Can I put on cartoons?”

He didn’t jump, Dean didn’t get scared of six-year-olds in footie pajamas. He was just on edge, was all.

“Knock yourself out,” Dean said.

“Where are you going?” Adam asked, stealing the afghan Dean had left on the floor.

“Uh, friend of mine had an accident, so I’m heading to the hospital. Can you tell Dad? I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“You can tell me yourself,” John’s voice pressed in behind Dean as he came in from the kitchen, mug of coffee in hand.

“Dad—,” Dean looked at his father, a man who had been on the road cheating on his mother for years. The same mother who died in a fire because John couldn’t bother to make sure to keep the electrical in their shitty double wide up to code. “It’s Jo. Ellen’s gonna take me to the hospital. Dad, I—”

John’s entire stance changed. “Go. Call when you know something. I’ll send Sammy when he’s up, he’ll know what to do.”

They both knew Sam couldn’t stop whatever was happening, but he’d keep Dean from causing a scene.

A car honked in the driveway.

“I gotta go. Thanks,” Dean brushed past his dad without even a glance at Adam.

Dean wouldn’t let Ellen drive, even hungover he trusted himself behind the wheel more than a desperate mother. She only pretended to argue before sliding across the bench seat and letting him in. The roads were a mess. In the thirty minute drive to the hospital, Dean saw another two cars in the ditch. Though, it was clear now in the morning sunshine, everything was blinding in its whiteness.

“Listen, you shut up and keep your head down. Let me do the talking,” Ellen warned him as they approached the reception desk.

“Hi, I’m Ellen Harvelle, I’m here to see my daughter Joanna? This is her fiance.”

Dean squirmed, but nodded at the nurse who looked at him like she wanted to reach over and hug him. “Of course, right this way.”

She led Dean and Ellen down a hushed hallway, the beeping of machines and huffing of ventilators the only sounds escaping the doorways as they passed. Dean looked around for a trash can, the painkillers in his stomach threatening to come back up. Ellen took his hand and pulled him into a room. 

Jo was hooked up to more machines than should have fit in the tiny room. Her hair was matted with blood and she was drowning in the hospital gown. Her beautiful face was swollen and red, the bruises still forming where she hit the passenger side window— or maybe that was the dashboard, Dean couldn’t tell she was so misshapen.

“Oh, Jo,” Dean’s voice broke. He stopped himself from saying anything as the nurse talked, but all he wanted to do was sob.

 He didn’t realize he had let go of Ellen’s hand until he was clenching the rail along Jo’s bedside. Ellen stood on the other side of her, carefully brushing the hair out of Jo’s beaten face. Her one arm was framed in a metal fixator, skin angry from where the bone sliced her open from the inside. Her leg was in a brace, but at least that meant those bones were more salvageable.

“What happened?” Dean said eventually, unsure of when the nurse left. He eyed the machines tracking Jo’s heart rate, but he wasn’t sure if the readings were good or bad.

“Someone was driving on the wrong side of the road— couldn’t see the lines and Y/N swerved to miss them, they spun out and the other car didn’t stop. They took her to surgery– her right knee was shattered.”

“Jo took the brunt of it,” Dean stated the obvious, still too terrified to reach out and touch Jo. She was suddenly so very fragile.

Ellen sniffed.

“They are watching for internal bleeding before they’ll operate. Her brain—," Ellen couldn’t finish.

“Hey,” Dean rushed around the bed and pulled Ellen against his chest, finally giving his hands something to do. “They’re doing everything they can.”

“It’s not enough,” Ellen argued.

“I know,” Dean agreed, squeezing her tighter.

Ellen pulled back and wiped her eyes, muttering to herself about going soft. Dean needed to give her a moment, hell, he needed a minute to catch his breath. He told her he was going to find coffee and she told him they had a waiting area down the hall. He nearly ran out of Jo’s room.

He checked his watch, it was just after ten o’clock. And as exhausted and hungover as Dean felt, he was pretty sure Ellen hadn’t slept at all after closing the bar. He wondered if she’d even made it home before getting the call. He found the coffee maker and pushed a button for something hot and thin and caffeinated. He wondered if Y/N had passed a breathalyzer, knowing how much Jo had been drinking didn’t make him certain her driver was much better off.

He was gonna be sick again.

He left the paper cup on the grate and fell into one of the stiff plastic chairs around the small table. He put his head between his knees and breathed, resting on his elbows. Dean counted the flecks in the white linoleum squares beneath his feet.

Nothing made sense. They were just getting started. Last night there was the impossible giddiness of seeing her in person after so long and now the unabashed horror of her mother sneaking him into the hospital as her fiance so he could see her before…

She was eighteen-fucking-years-old and he was going to lose her.

And it was all his fault.

He stared at the floor until he couldn’t anymore. The coffee was nothing more than a passing burn on the way to his knotted stomach. But he couldn’t stop the tears and he wouldn’t go back to Ellen until they were dry, she needed him to be better than that. When he couldn’t cry anymore and after he used his last single for a pack of peanut M&Ms, Dean went back to Jo’s room.

Ellen was asleep in an ugly mauve chair with her hand clutching Jo’s good ankle over the thin hospital blanket. Dean found another blanket from a CNA and tucked it around Ellen’s shoulders. He stood guard, through Ellen’s brief nap and the three o’clock shift change, even after Sam came by with lunch but left because he wasn’t allowed on the ward.

The seizures started around five and Ellen and Dean were asked to wait outside. Before six, she was wheeled away from them into emergency surgery and by seven she was gone. Dean had to hold Ellen back from slugging the surgeon. He caught her when she finally sank into reality, and somehow Dean found more tears.

Nothing felt real, least of all Dean himself.

Adam looked Dean in the eye and grinned.

“Get over here you little shit, I told you to stop growing the last time I saw you didn’t I?” Dean hugged his youngest brother hard, thumping him on the back as he rocked from foot to foot. “Good to see you, man.”

“You too,” Adam grunted out before Dean could release him.

Then came John, waiting for Dean as he walked through the front door. They didn’t say anything, just gave each other the once over and went in for the hug. John held him tight until he cleared his throat, stepping away from the vulnerable moment. Sam came in with his bags and hugged Kate first, who had been waiting in the hallway to the kitchen.

“Sammy,” John said, holding out his arms.

“Hey Dad,” Sam hugged with genuine warmth on his face, Dean never thought he’d see the day. But time does things to a person, and forgiveness was always Sam’s superpower.

“You boys hungry? I can reheat dinner, I know you’ve been on the road, wasn’t sure when you’d get in,” Kate offered as Dean went in for the obligatory hug. She had colored her hair, instead of her natural blonde it was a mature auburn, covering the gray and giving her a different air.

“Don’t worry about us, we can scavenge for something later,” Dean assured her. “I like your hair.”

That startled her. “Oh! Thank you, yeah I just figured I’d do something different for winter, you know.”

“Don’t she look good? I told her redheads are feisty,” John teased, wrapping his arm around her waist.

“Gross,” Adam called on the way to the basement, where Sam had headed down to watch him finish his game.

“Beer?” John offered and Dean gladly accepted.

Arriving three days early was pushing their luck, Dean knew that, but there was nothing keeping him in LA. And after the novelty of catching up and last minute shopping in the tiny downtown of Mills’ Crossing, there wasn’t much more small talk to be had. 

Naturally, John started it. But it was over Sam that had Dean’s hackles up first. They were sitting down for a late lunch, having gone to church as a family for the first time since Kate and John got married when John made a comment about it was good to see Sam’s forearms ‘healthy’. 

What he meant was he was proud of Sam for kicking his habit, for staying clean. What John didn’t know was that Sam was so good at hiding it, Dean had to check between his toes before he finally got him into rehab the last time. Seven years since Sam had kicked it and John still needed to point it out.

The jam session that night seemed to clear the air. Adam had decided he was a drummer sometime after Dean and Sam’s first platinum album so John built him an entire soundproof room in the basement to go wild. Which meant the Winchester men were a full four piece, if they got to pick their parts. Dean abstained from playing lead because it was John’s house after all, but the old man’s hands weren’t what they used to be. And that gave Dean a little bit of satisfaction.

They rolled through the classics, even playing a couple of Phantom Traveler’s songs that didn’t rely too much on the keys. Dean made John sing though, laughing when he made up his own lyrics.

They ended the night with a drunken, almost punk rendition of Jingle Bell Rock after which Kate shut the lights out on them and told them to go to bed.

Christmas Eve was boring, Dean had gotten stir crazy and kept checking his phone. He knew you had gotten in the night before, but he couldn’t justify trying to hang out while you had such little time with your family as it was. Sam gave him a look and they started playing poker, teasing Adam that he needed to know every version of the game if he was gonna hold his own one day. 

Kate wiped the floor with them all.

They had eggnog and exchanged one round of gifts before going to bed, no expectations of Santa Claus or any set wake up time scheduled. It was just another day. Dean barely slept, anxiety churning inside him. He tried meditating. He even prayed, but God, who was understandably busy that night, didn’t save him. Because he woke up with a bug up his ass and, naturally, his father was the first one to point it out.

“You kiss your girlfriend with that mouth?” John asked after Dean cursed at Adam’s obnoxious ringtone.

“Do a lot more with it than that,” Dean muttered before he could stop himself.

“Dean Winchester,” John snapped as if Dean was still sixteen, still living under his roof.

“Oh, come on, kids in college, he’s heard worse,” Dean griped, going back to his coffee.

It all went downhill from there. Naturally, Adam got the lion’s share of gifts. Sam and Dean didn’t need anything, but it was so uneven it looked like John and Kate didn’t even remember they were coming to visit. Meanwhile, John’s plasma screen had arrived two days earlier and Sam and Dean were tasked with installing it in the living room midmorning.

Nothing says family time like manual labor and micromanagement.

Dean started drinking before Kate had taken the ham out of the oven. And while Sam wasn’t exactly keeping track, Dean felt like he was asking for whatever bitchface he got next. He just couldn’t stop himself once he started snarking.

Adam was telling them about the musical composition class he had finished and how he had written something for a string quartet. 

“Our new keyboard player went to Julliard, you should send it to him,” Dean said off the cuff, before shoving some venison sausage in his mouth from the snack trays Kate put out.

“So you upgraded from Cas officially now?” John asked suspiciously.

“Dad, Cas left the band last spring, of course we made it official,” Sam cut in. John already knew this.

“I know, I just hoped you boys would work it out.”

Dean laughed darkly. “Nothing to work out. Dude left, we moved on.”

“And why did he leave exactly?” John goaded Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes, John was one to talk. He had pissed off half of all musicians between the Rockies and New Orleans before he hung it up.

“Let’s call it the Winchester temper and leave it at that,” Dean smiled without teeth, then popped more snacks into his mouth.

“Yeah, cuz the Campbell blood held only saints,” John muttered.

“Dad!” Sam admonished.

“That’s fucking rich! Talking about her when she’s not here to call you on your shit. I fucking punched Cas, alright?! You happy?! And who, DAD, taught me how to do that? Huh? Winchester temper. Not Campbell. That one was all from you.”

John stepped into Dean’s space, but spoke to Sam. “Sam, take your brother outside for a walk to cool down before dinner.”

Sam grunted in confirmation.

“Watch how you talk to me in my own home, Dean. Or I’ll show you a Winchester temper,” John said lowly. “You understand?”

Dean rolled his shoulders and looked his father in the eye. “Who exactly paid for this house again, Dad? Yeah, I’ll talk to you how you deserve it. I’m out of here.”

Dean felt Adam watching from the corner as Kate pulled John out of the kitchen and into their bedroom to give him a piece of her mind. Sam nodded at their younger brother, silently thanking him for holding down the fort as Dean stormed out the front door.

The Roadhouse was blissfully the same, with only a handful of beaten down cars in the parking lot. Dean had spent enough Christmases at bars or taverns throughout his life, but now he just wanted something that felt like home to get through this tightness in his chest. What they found inside was something altogether more special.

Ellen’s entire face lit up as they walked in, an empty plate in front of her and Garth manning the food line. Dean got his hug in first, but Sam took his time asking about what was going on. Then you were there, and Dean felt a hot shame creep up because he was this close to falling into old patterns. And that wasn’t how he ever wanted you to see him. He zipped his lips, pleading with himself to get a handle on his temper already.

He felt you breathe him in, the truth was never hard for you to suss out. And yet Dean held on, needing you close, being stupid and selfish as ever.

They took their free meal and ducked into a corner, watching as Ellen played angel to the downtrodden of Boone county. Slowly, Dean was able to set his shit aside. With Sam talking about anything and everything across from him; he accepted his resentment for his father, his frustration at himself and the stupid fucking feelings he had for you. It all seemed much more manageable when faced with people who had to get over much bigger obstacles with so much less. There was one more thing he promised he’d do while he was home, now that he’d visited Ellen. And he double checked that Sam was still good to go with him, to be his chauffeur.

They helped clean up, though Ellen moved a mile a minute and did tasks faster than she could explain them. And then Ellen was handing you off like a Christmas present, one that Dean couldn’t ever accept. 

Ellen said her goodbyes and left Dean standing in the parking lot without much of a guess on what you wanted to do next.

“I guess we better get going,” he said, asking Sam more than anything.

Then Sam reminded Dean about the cemetery and a new wave of guilt seeped into Dean’s stomach. When it came to Jo, you had first dibs. She was your best friend and Dean’d be damned if he’d visit her without you getting a chance to too. As macabre as it was, he felt he owed it to you.

You looked like you were going to be ill.

“Maybe we should ask her if she wants to go,” he told Sam, searching your eyes for permission at the very least.

You took your time with the idea, but turned him down. “If it’s okay, would you mind dropping me off first? I know it’s in the other direction.”

Dean felt you sinking behind a wall the further they got from the Roadhouse, you asked questions and made conversation, but you weren’t really in it. He probably shouldn’t have brought up Jo, but with Ellen and Christmas and the Roadhouse, she was already everywhere anyway. 

They let you out at your parents’ and headed back across town. The streets were almost empty with the sacredness of the holiday. The cemetery was decorated in pine wreaths and cheap red ribbons. The narrow paths were  silent beneath their feet. Dean had thought he knew what he wanted to say when he decided to take this little side quest to see Jo.

What he said once Sam was safely back inside the Charger was something else entirely.

“So, I’ve been better. Not like I’m bad now, but I’ve been doing actually better. I was a mess for a long time. And not just from you, but a lot of shit. And last year, I guess earlier this year really, I kind of imploded. I started hurting people, like actually hurting them and justified it to myself somehow. Then I pushed Cas away from helping me, after breaking his nose. And well, the bands a lot different now. But we’re still doing it. 

Look, Jo, I know you wanted me to live my dreams and see the world. Things I always wish you could have done. But sometimes dreams are regular everyday things, like bringing home pie or having somebody to say goodnight to. And I haven’t let myself have dreams in a long, long time. But I think maybe I’m starting to again.

And I just need you to know that I’m gonna be okay. And I am gonna do what I can to keep your people safe, because they’re my people now too, you know? You gave me another mom and a best friend without even meaning to. And we all miss you like crazy. But, we’re okay. Merry Christmas, beautiful. I  hope the angels pull out all the stops up there.”

Dean exhaled, his nose thick and eyes stinging in the cold air. He wiped his face and looked at Jo’s name one more time before turning back towards the road. Sam waited until Dean was buckled in before asking, “you good?”

“Yeah, man. Let’s get back before I cause more of a sensation,” Dean said, not meeting Sam’s eyes.

“Okay,” was all Sam said.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter 15: Rubato

[sardonic-the-writer]

rant about Gabriel to me I need to understand him

im going to format this like you've never seen the show, just in case you haven't, so if you have just bare with me

gabriel is a bit of an enigma. for the first two and a half episodes he shows up in, he's not even known as gabriel. he's on screen as 'the trickster' and is masquerading as one. (tricksters in spn canon are powerful demigod creatures of myth that can alter reality how they want, normally using their powers to play deadly pranks on malicious humans in ironic ways. i.e mauling someone who tests products on animals via a sewer alligator)

the reason he's doing this as a self proclaimed "witness protection" method is because he's in hiding, pretending to be a trickster to hide from his family; which is heaven since he's the archangel gabriel. surprise surprise. this is revealed in the episode 'changing channels', (season four) which is i believe the best ranked episode on the entire show by the audience and one of my favorites. 'mystery spot' (season three) is another one he stars in (as rhe trickster, not gabriel. we still dont know that), and i think it's the second highest ranked. and 'tall tales' (season two) is the first one he shows up in which is also very highly ranked.

gabriel has a habit of faking his death a lot to escape responsibility, which he does in the episode 'hammer of the gods' (season five [?] i think) after being "stabbed" by lucifer so he doesn't have to really stick around and watch his family (lucifer and michael) fight. but we don't know that it was a fake out for nearly eight seasons. (there is an instance where he shows up again in season nine but that was a fake out and not the real him). in 'hammer of the gods' we also find out that gabriel really had gone all in with his so called witness protection while pretending to be a trickster; so much so that most of the mythological world/pretty much anyone but cas sam and dean knows him as the actual god of tricksters, loki, and not by his true name. later on when he comes back in season thirteen we find out that's because the real loki offered to share the same face with gabriel back when he first came to earth wayyyyyyy long ago to help him out. and when we meet loki later when gabriels trying to kill him for selling him off to one of the princes of hell asmodeus (i'll get into that) it's basically just the actor richard speight jr playing two roles at once. if that makes any sense. one of my favorite episodes, although i think that's just because i hadn't really seen gabriel in months and was over excited. i'll have to see if the hype holds up on my rewatch

but okay, for some backstory on the whole being sold thing, after gabriel faked his death in 'hammer of the gods', he ran off to some island to get in contact with loki and his kids (think fenrir. spn uses real mythological names and bloodlines as side plots sometimes) to go dark again. loki pretends to entertain the idea and let's gabriel play poker with hookers for a few days (gabe has also stared in a porno before and enjoys eating candy even though angels never get hungry. he's fun that way) before betraying him and basically selling him off as a slave to a prince of hell, who locks him away for hundered (thousands maybe?) of years, constantly draining his archangel grace just enough to not leave gabe powerless, but also enough to torture him horribly. it's awful, and all explained in the episode 'unfinished buisness' (season thirteen) which is all about him enacting revenge on loki and the tricksters kids. but the takeaway is that the first time we see gabe after season five, he's a completely different person. almost like a scared animal. if the animal has had its mouth sewn shut by a demon, that is.

anyways, sam and dean and cas help revert him back to his usual self, and he runs away from his problems for a few episodes, before finally confronting them and dying for real this time at the hands of an alertnate world version of his brother michael a few episodes later. the later seasons writing was so fucked up in my opinion, and the way gabriel died was done so wrong, but i think that's because im biased. frowns

my explination of him does no justice. he's a smug, silly, tricky, multi layered, funny son of a bitch that has fuck ass smile where his eyes crinkled at the corner and i. oughhh. i love him. urgh. yeah

[catindabag]

TBOSAS on Crack! ✨essential information✨

⭐️❄️⭐️

FIRST off, in honor of the book and its movie release, TBOSAS on Crack is solely (just) created as a JOKE!Alternative Universe that focuses more on the 24 OG Mentors of the 10th Hunger Games. This includes the funny/romantic misunderstandings of Coriolanus Snow and Sejanus Plinth that gave everyone the impression that they were actually “secretly” dating, and are indeed boyfriends (until they honestly were).

In addition, this Crack!AU will tell you the compelling story of how a bunch of delinquents “accidentally” stopped the Hunger Games from continuing, just because of a certain Mentor’s ✨nepotism✨.

MORE or less, most of the characters in the book are the same when it comes to their personalities and backstories. Well, except for our Mentors. They’re a bunch of crackhead Capitol kids with too much fun and stress on their hands. They even almost made Dean Highbottom and Dr. Gaul quit their respective jobs.

ALSO, these young walking disasters are not “all there” in the head. Heck! Half of them went crazy years ago because of the infamous 2 year Capitol Siege by the rebels that almost starved them all to death. Just ask Coryo Snow and Persephone. But as for the other half, let’s just say that all they want to do is eat, drink, party, and ✨graduate✨.

Here is a quick character info: [Read Me]

Here are their visuals: [Read Me]

Here’s the Hunger Games Origin: [Read Me]

Here’s their playlist: [Read Me]

Here are their ✨Code Names✨: [Read Me]

And here’s Dean Highbottom’s take: [Read Me]

Here’s that Epic The Musical Post: [Read Me]

Here’s the fate of District 13: [Read Me]

PS: For sanity’s sake, no Mentor or Tribute will be dying in this Crack!AU. No one gets killed! Bombs will still explode inside the Capitol Arena, but our crazy kids will wear the thickest plot armor EVER, just because I’m their only sponsor!🤣

Read the Cracks here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78,

The cracks are not in chronological order, but someday they will. . .

MOREOVER, this Crack!AU includes the following:

The accidental birth of ✨Snowjanus✨!😘

Also known as Corjanus, SnowPlinth, CabbageBread, The Grandma’am golden ticket to a rich life, and Strabo’s not so secret plan to rule all of Panem through his only son’s marriage to Crassus Snow’s boy.

Coryo Snow malfunctioning for the hundredth time because of how forward and shamelessly romantic Sejanus Plinth is.

“Fine! I’ll marry into money! I’m sick of eating cabbages anyway!”

“Stop throwing bread to the dead, Sejanus Plinth! Throw it to the living!”

The Mentors (intentionally) delaying the Hunger Games from officially starting because of their nonstop shenanigans with their Tributes (much to Dr. Gaul and her Gamemaker’s frustration).🤣

The Tributes slowly accepting (and sometimes rejecting) the fact that their Mentors are just a bunch of “dramatic nepotistic crazy clowns” who refuse to learn basic social cues.

The 10th Hunger Games being officially postponed (over and over again) because of Felix Ravinstill’s ✨nepotism✨ working overtime.😌💅

In truth, the Gamemakers were “forced” to stop the countdown (over and over again) because half of the Mentors illegally barged into the control room without Dr. Gaul’s permission. Afterwards, Felix just used the excuse of “My granduncle is the President of Panem, I can do whatever I want” card to postpone the games.

Lucy Gray ignoring the personal space of her fellow annoyed Tributes (and everyone she meets), just because she’s “Covey” and quirky.

The poor underpaid Capitol Peacekeepers wanting a salary increase, vacation, and promotion because they have been dealing with the Mentors’ extra curricular criminal activities for far too long.

All the Mentors (excluding Livia and Arachne) being genuine ✨Besties✨ to each other since their grade school days.

Livia Cardew only calls her classmates either witches or idiots.

Festus Creed being the real ✨Dumpster Diving Capitol Rat King✨ and the best free cheesecake coupon hoarder of the century.

“Dumpster Diving for free food coupons is a common school activity, officer!”

The Academy? More like ✨The Academy of Arts✨💅.

Everyone wanting to secretly major in ✨Theatre & Drama✨.

Crazy but rich AF Sejanus Plinth and his unhealthy obsession of being Coryo Snow’s beloved boyfriend, fiancé, sugar daddy, baby daddy, and future husband.

Ma Plinth slowly becoming the food benefactor of the Mentors. #feedmeMa

Coriolanus Snow and Lucy Gray being the best of friends who love to sh*t talk about their boyfriends every time they meet.

Seriously, Coryo and Lucy Gray are just friends here. Everyone knows that crazy Sejanus Plinth will strangle anyone who tries to flirt with his gorgeous Snow Bae sugar baby fiancé.

Lucy Gray genuinely liking the Mentors for their chaotic ✨dramatic✨ personalities.

Sejanus Plinth shamelessly calling his darling Coryo “Babe, My love, Snow Angel, Snow Bae, Snowy, Snow Baby, Sweetheart” in front of everyone and their dogs.

The Mentors randomly coming up to Lucy Gray and asking her to sing banned songs from the early 2000s.

Strabo Plinth’s unhealthy obsession with the Snow family. Apparently, he and the ever gorgeous Crassus Snow were very close “friends” and the best “roommates” back in their military days. They were busy “stargazing” and playing with their rifles all night if you know what I mean.😏

The Grandma’am and Strabo Plinth being the true evil geniuses of the Capitol.😈

Strabo Plinth insisting Coryo to marry into his family and change their surnames to ✨The Great Plinth-Snow Dynasty✨, just because it sounds more powerful.

Coryo Snow accidentally convincing his beloved sugar daddy boyfriend (Crazy Sejanus Plinth) to become the future ✨President of Panem✨ (after Felix).

Tigris and The Grandma’am selling Coryo’s hand in marriage to the Plinth family. They genuinely believe that old man Strabo Plinth will lower the food prices if Sejanus marries Coryo for the sake of Panem.

Tigris Snow finally quitting her job (she got fired for being a weird cheese addict) and happy dancing for a whole week when she heard that her sweet little Coryo will marry into the Plinth family fortune.

Tigris, the Grandma’am, and Ma Plinth planning the ultimate ✨Snowjanus Royal Wedding of The Century✨.

The Grandma’am and evil Strabo Plinth scheming together to rule Panem and its people through ✨The Great SnowPlinth Union✨.

Ma Plinth wanting at least 5 beautiful grandchildren out of The Great SnowPlinth Union, while Strabo and the Grandma’am demanded 2 dozen (and more). #24&More

Lysistrata Vickers being the founder and President of the Capitol’s SnowPlinth/Snowjanus Official Fan Club.

Lucy Gray supporting and promising Coryo Snow that she and her Covey will sing the best banned love songs at his wedding.

Reaper Ash being labeled as the “weird one” by his fellow crazy Tributes.

Treech and Vipsania Sickle being the best gym bros for some unknown reason.

Marcus trying (and failing) to ignore the annoying existence of Sejanus Plinth.

Lysistrata Vickers having dibs as Coryo’s official ✨Maid of Honor✨. Apparently, poor cheese addict Tigris Snow was tragically outvoted by the very influential and powerful SnowPlinth/Snowjanus Fan Club members out of jealousy.🥲

Festus Creed and Tigris Snow fighting for the position of ✨Best Man✨ through an epic ✨Dance-off Battle✨💃🕺.

Apollo Ring being forced to be Coryo’s ring bearer because of his surname. Honestly, Gaius Breen and Androcles Anderson just peer pressured him for fun.

Livia Cardew planning to crash Coryo’s wedding for the expensive wine.

The Mentors and Tributes avoiding the “Arena Bomb Explosion Incident” because of Palmyra Monty’s dangerous existence.

Androcles Anderson being a proud professional kleptomaniac.

Lucky Flickerman wanting to quit his job. Apparently, the self proclaimed magic man was extremely unprepared to face and deal with the Mentors’ collective stupidity.😭

The Gamemakers forgetting to edit out Sejanus Plinth’s little arena stunt.

“Marcus was just sleeping, Sejanus! He’s still alive, you idiot Plinth! We freaking postponed the games!”

“For the last time! Don’t kiss Coriolanus Xanthos Snow on LIVE TV! There are freaking kids and dogs watching!”

Coryo and Sejanus shamelessly kissing, hugging, and being dramatic AF inside the Capitol Arena, while poor Marcus and the others are left sitting on the stands annoyed and confused AF.

Dean Casca Highbottom intentionally calling poor Coryo “Crassus Xanthos Snow” out of spite and out of regret (and because he’s still madly and deeply in love with the ever gorgeous Crassus Snow).

Drunk Highbottom living and swimming in denial since the infamous ✨#Crasca4Ever! University Breakup✨.😔

Coryo Snow successfully convincing a drunk Highbottom not to expel him by pretending to be Crassus Snow. He later regrets doing it.

Drunk!Casca not being able to correctly pronounce half all of his students’ names.

Festus Creed and Androcles Anderson receiving a lot of demerits and expulsion letters from the Dean. However, they still go to school and join their class discussions like nothing happened.

Casca Highbottom banning the Mentors from attending ✨The Academy’s Annual Students Teachers Meeting✨ (forever) because of the infamous Heavensbee Hall Flooding Incident.

Coryo Snow secretly trading his cabbages for banned music albums at the Capitol Black Market.

The banned song “Heaven Is A Place On Earth” accidentally playing on repeat inside the Capitol Arena because Felix Ravinstill forgot to detach his phone from Dr. Gaul’s master speaker.

“Snow On The Beach” stealing the top spot on the Capitol Billboard Hot 100 because of Coryo Snow and Lucy Gray’s final performance inside the Capitol Arena.

The Mentors trolling Lucky Flickerman and Lepidus Malmsey for the hundredth time.

Hilarius Heavensbee secretly collects movie records from the early 2000s. His favorite banned film is ✨Legally Blonde✨.

Io Jasper and Urban Canville being a bunch of shameless nerds who can’t properly communicate with each other.

Professor Sickle trying to convince Drunk!Casca Highbottom to give her a raise and promotion for tolerating the Mentors’ shenanigans and stupidity.

Crazy Palmyra Monty forever mentally and emotionally scarring her classmates (especially Florus Friend) with her homemade poisonous snacks.

Florus Friend fearing and avoiding Palmyra Monty’s accursed deadly bread rolls and expired sandwiches.

Felix Ravinstill being a genuine good friend and great Class President to everyone.

Dennis Fling asking poor sensitive Felix to beg for some illegal ✨Miracle Pills✨ from Lysistrata to cure Hy and Dill’s respiratory related illnesses.

Everyone knows that Persephone Price willingly ate that infamous “Maid Stew” that her father made for them to survive.

Festus Creed’s ✨PerseFest✨ agenda.

Dairy Heiress Domitia Whimsiwick fawning over Tanner’s skills and biceps.

Coral perfecting her somersault to impress the Capitol crowd and her idiot Mentor.

The Mentors pretending to be stupid whenever they attend Dr. Gaul’s class.

Dr. Gaul giving up on grooming poor Coryo Snow to become her successor because she realized that his brain doesn’t work properly whenever he’s with Sejanus.

Poor homeless Hilarius Heavensbee getting disowned and kicked out of the ✨Queen Bee Mansion✨ by his evil weirdo parents for being a loser nuisance towards his smarter and perfect younger brother.

Livia and Arachne convincing themselves that Casca Highbottom is actually Coryo Snow’s true sugar daddy.

Meanwhile, Florus Friend thinks Strabo Plinth is the real sugar daddy of poor Coryo Snow and homeless Hilarius Heavensbee.

Dr. Gaul openly wanting to strangle the Mentors for acting being stupid.

Urban Canville’s secret mission to strangle Lucky Flickerman and his annoying bird.

Felix Ravinstill being the favorite darling grandnephew son of President Gran Gran.

Festus winning the position of ✨Class Representative✨. Apparently, Creed only won because Sejanus “accidentally” locked Urban Canville inside a bathroom stall.

Persephone Price and Mizzen being the best pizza partners in crime. Somebody, these two idiots will rule all of Panem with their ruthless ✨Pizza Palace Empire✨.

Drunk!Coryo genuinely believes that Felix Ravinstill is the current President of Panem.

Drunk!Sejanus, Drunk!Coryo, Drunk!Festus, and Drunk!Lysistrata acting like shameless fools in front of their Tributes. The poor and underpaid Peacekeepers were not amused.

Festus Creed and Sejanus Plinth stripping on broad daylight because of the summer heat.

Reaper Ash praying for some normalcy and mental peace every day.

Jessup and Sheaf talking and singing with the Capitol’s “sacred” rabid raccoons and wild squirrels in order to stay sane.

Mizzen being a terrible little gremlin.

The Mentors trying to recreate The Hunger Games until ✨Panemvision✨ was born.

Livia’s own version of The Hungers Games is basically ✨Love Island✨ on crack and steroids.

Because of the awful “Love Island” idea, the rest of the Mentors had to write a serious 20 page essay on why the Hunger Games should be recreated/revamped into a true reality TV show with a “no killing, no gore, no cannibalism” policy.

The Mentors trying to convince the School Board Members, the Government Officials, and crazy President Ravinstill to change the 10th Hunger Games into a non-deadly talent show to increase viewership and sponsors.

Moreover, Coryo strongly defended the proposal by having Lucy Gray successfully sing in front of a live audience (again) on TV. Billy Taupe was the only one who got offended (again).

Meanwhile, the rest of the Mentors also convinced their Tributes to show off their talents that same day. That was Reaper’s 2nd worst day of the week.😂

Dean Highbottom only supported the proposal because it reminded him of his wild karaoke clubbing days with his drop dead gorgeous lover. You know who it was.😏 #Crasca4Ever #crassusmylove #SnowBottom

Clemensia Dovecote also backs their weird essays by simply stating that killing children will only make the Districts hate the Capitol more. However, if they provide “real entertainment” without the violence, then the Districts might warm up to them.

In addition, Sejanus proposed that the winner of the contest will be made a ✨STAR of PANEM✨! 🤩

And as the ✨Star of Panem✨, he/she will be given monetary support and a lifetime supply of cabbages and lima beans by the Capitol.

Meanwhile, the losers will only get 10 boxes of pizza, 2 gallons of orange soda, one body bag of sandwiches (made by Ma Plinth) as a reward for “willingly” participating.

Juno Phipps then added a “rule” stating that no Tribute shall be punished (or killed) because the losers must live and remember their humiliation on television for the rest of their lives.😈

Coryo and Clemmie also proposed that each Tribute must have a Prep Team and Stylist to make them presentable for Lucky Flickerman’s Late Night Show with Jubilee.

Finally, Felix Ravinstill and Dennis Fling closed their arguments by stating: “That being forced to sing and perform ON STAGE and on LIVE TV, which could be replayed over and over again, even after death, especially for Tributes who couldn’t save their own pride and dignity for all of Panem to remember, is the worst punishment one could freely give to one’s enemy. They won’t even be allowed to forget how they had wronged you.”

After hearing the Mentors’ closing argument, Dr. Gaul was ready to end it all and commit bloody murder in front of everyone.😡🔪

But after some deliberation, President Ravinstill (and his puppies) approved the Mentors’ proposal and changed the Hungers Games into the ✨HGASC✨ (Hunger Games: Annual Singing Contest).

However, the Grandma’am and Strabo Plinth insisted that they should just officially call it ✨PANEMVISION✨.

Meanwhile, Dr. Gaul tried to persuade President Ravinstill (again) to reconsider the Mentors’ stupid proposals.

However, she was outvoted by both the School Board Committee and the Capitol’s highest ranking government officials, just because everyone (but her) wanted to see what “true entertainment” really looks like on screen.

Livia Cardew even defended everyone’s ideas nonstop because, according to her, there was a lack of spicy entertainment in the Capitol. Damn the rules! This is the Capitol! We want ✨Love Island✨ type of dramas! Where are the ✨Real Housewives of Corso✨?! F*ck the Hunger Games! Give us the 90 Day Fiancé from the Districts!

And that’s how the Mentors “accidentally” ended the Hunger Games and gave birth to the most popular and craziest reality TV show in the weird history of Panem.

As for every Quarter Quell, let’s just say, it’s gonna be a true ✨SHOW STOPPER✨!

The first ✨HGASC/PANEMVISION✨ Quarter Quell will have the Mentors reap kids from both Capitol and District. Afterwards, one District Tribute will be paired with one Capitol Tribute to perform a special duet act (whether they like it or not).

[theelderhazelnut]

Falkus Biography

Warnings: mentions of self harm, death, gore, and gradually losing one’s sanity. Also, it’s not proofread.

Note: shoutout to dear @takiisieju-moved for listening to me screaming about him and for helping me with his backstory!

General Information

Full Name: Falkus

Name Meaning: Iron hand

Nicknames/Alias:

Lord Falkus

God of Metals

Protector of Metalrealm

Smiling God

Age: unknown

Date of Birth: unknown

MBTI: ENTP-T

Sex: Male

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/She/They he doesn’t care

Sexuality: Graysexual (any genders)

Species: Diety

Race/Ethnicity: none

Current Place of Residence: Metalrealm

Physical Appearance

Face Claim: Jeffery Dean Morgan

Voice Claim: Till Lindemann

Skin: a little bit dry, has wrinkles. It’s gray and if you look closely, you’ll see that it’s somewhat shiny as if it has glitter on it.

Height: 6’5

Weight: 198 lbs

Eye Color: totally white

Hair Color: Titanium White

Hair texture: Thin and straight

Body Type: muscular

Prominent Features:

Dimples

Beautiful mustache

Cyberwares on his face, fingers, arms and back

Broad Shoulders

Sharp jaw

Clothing Style: Falkus is usually seen wearing a sleeveless blue leather robe with a piece of cloth attached to it which covers his chest and shoulders. It’s accompanied by purple harness, and a light blue scarf. He almost always wears metal gauntlets to conceal the self harm scars on his forearms. For storage, especially for his cigarette supplies, he wears a white waist bag. Also, he wears white leather boots with metal armor around it.

Personality

Positive Traits: Intelligent, patient, confident, good with words, adaptable to change

Negative Trait/Flaws: remorseless, manipulative, antisocial, vengeful, impious, stubborn, dishonest, sadistic, aggressive, low self esteem, narcissistic

Hobbies: making cigarettes, dancing, cooking

Likes: Making cigarettes, dancing, traveling, going shopping, cooking,

Dislikes: mortals,

Goals: Destroy the Cult of the Elder Gods and gain his freedom.

Fears: Failing in this quest and remain a puppet for the rest of the eternity, not having Ombra on his side anymore

Health

Physical Health: Since he’s a god, he has pretty good physical health, except that he has several scars on his body most of which are from self harm.

Mental Health: oh boy, I’ve talked a lot about how fucked up he is. He’s a literal psychopath who is willing to do anything to achieve his goals without the tiniest remorse. He is quick to choose violence. Falkus is this always cheerful and friendly god, but that is all just a mask he created for himself. He IS friendly, but actually he keeps people at arms length. He only introduces a made up version of himself which means the chances are pretty low for someone to see the real him. The real Falkus, however, is a broken god who has nothing left to lose.

Phobias:

Fighting Attributes

Abilities/Powers:

Ferrokinesis - Falkus is able to manipulate all kinds of metal. He can also create them out of thin air.

Heat and electricity manipulation - He can only manipulate them through metals.

Sound manipulation - He can only manipulate it through metals.

Blood manipulation - He can manipulate it the iron in the blood.

Skills:

Martial arts and self defense

Despite being an ancient god, he knows how to use gadgets

Using melee weapons

Strengths:

Ranged combat

His height

Adaptable to change

Weaknesses:

Strong electricity

Extreme heat

Prone to violence

His self harm scars and the fact that his hands shake uncontrollably under emotional pressure.

Weapons:

He can create a variety of melee blades with his power.

Relationships

Family: none

Friends/Allies:

Ombra

Quan Chi

Shinnok

Cetrion

Kronika

Kano

Enemies:

The Elder Gods

The Cult of the Elder Gods

Raiden

Fujin

Hotaru

Argus

Delia

The Special Forces

Love Interest:

None (for now at least)

Backstory

Eons ago, when the Elder Gods defeated the One Being and created the realms, they decided to create weaker beings known as protector gods in order to guard the realm, and most importantly, the consciousness of the creatures living in them. To preserve their power and position, the Elder Gods needed a system to keep the mortals’ minds in utter darkness, so they established the Order of The Elder Gods. The protector gods’ main function and purpose was to blindly serve this order.

However, one of the realms contained a slightly bigger portion of the One Being’s consciousness which eventually led to “metal magic” being formed in that realm, and the people to be more susceptible to becoming conscious and aware. This realm needed a much more powerful god therefore the Elder Gods gathered a bit of each one their essence to create Falkus, the god of metals.

Falkus was gifted with the divine and perilous power of manipulating all kinds of metal. Falkus was dictated to be kind, selfless and wise, so he wouldn’t use his immense power in any ways that was unpleasant to The Elder Gods. He was a weapon.

Falkus began his duty while learning more about the cult and how to serve it properly. But well, everything comes with a price. In order to protect the Metalrealm, the most valuable thing he had, he had to kill many parts of himself. And just as the Elder Gods desired, he was very much willing to do that.

He didn’t need to sleep. He didn’t need to eat. He was merely a machine on high alert to exterminate any threats on sight. And to be honest, he did enjoy it because Metalrealm was everything he had.

But while fulfilling his duty as an obedient dog, he gradually realized that there isn’t anything in him for him to call a self. He couldn’t even permit himself to fall in love because well, he didn’t want his lover to be crushed under the pressure; just like what he was beginning to feel.

But sadly, he fell in love with a mortal man. He thought maybe he could make things work out. He was a powerful god, wasn’t he?

But in the end, he lost the only person who reminded him of himself. He simply walked out of his life. Who wanted an unavailable husband who was out there saving asses almost all the time?

Falkus was broken from the inside. Episodes of derealization and depersonalization became worse and more often. Symptoms of depression began to bloom in his every day life.

He was falling apart.

After that, he became scared of intimacy. He wasn’t going to fall for anyone, or make anyone to fall for him ever again. The walls around his heart were growing higher and higher.

And that doomed day arrived. Falkus was informed that a group of rebellions attacked one of the cultists in a sanctuary in Metalrealm. And, obviously, it was Falkus’s duty to eliminate them as soon as possible. Even though he wasn’t in any shape to do it, he tracked them down anyhow. Eventually, he found their outpost. Then, the Elder Gods directly ordered him to sabotage.

He tottered all the way to the outpost, and upon arriving, he learned that a group of rebels were already sent to launch an extensive attack. Currents of panic flooded his chest. Many innocent people would die if he didn’t get there immediately, and even the soldiers couldn’t do much. He didn’t care about the cultists anymore. Metalrealmers needed him more than anything, but there he was; executing Elder God’s stupid orders. And he couldn’t care less about the consequences of defying them.

Briefly, he abandoned the arena and ran to the promised location. However, it was pretty late. He fought and exterminated those rebels, eventually. But he couldn’t protect everyone just because the cultists were the Gods’ sweethearts. Falkus’s gaze wandered to a child drowning in his own blood. He felt like all of the buildings nearby collapsed on his head. He fell to his knees, and brought the child’s bloodied head to his chest. A few minutes later, his face was wet with thick streams of tears and his wail echoed in the ruins and ashes. The Elder Gods would step on anyone and anything just to maintain their power and control. He was just a tool and mortals were victims.

The day after, the Elder Gods summoned him. Not only did he defy them, but he also prioritized the lives of some metalrealmers instead of a couole of helpless cultists. He deserved to die, or at least be banished to the Netherrealm. But the real problem was that they needed him. He was too powerful and useful to be put aside so easily.

The Elder Gods declared his penalty: He was not allowed to leave Metalrealm under any circumstances. When he heard this, he could only laugh, hysterically. His hatred for them erupted, and he had mental breakdown before all of them. He told them that no one was powerful enough to protect the Metalrealm, and that they’d fail without him. In conclusion, his punishment was reduced in severity. He could exit the realm, but he was not allowed to use his powers outside.

This was enough to send him through a panic attack. Metalrealm was all he existed for. It was the nearest definition he knew of himself. And the cult was taking it from him just like it took everything else.

After a while of isolating himself, he learned about Delia’s vision about a near future: a girl raising armies against the cult. Falkus made his decision. He wanted his freedom no matter what, even if it meant using an innocent girl.

Falkus was reborn, and he was going to return himself to him.

[that-one-gay-aew-enthusiast]

𝚂𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝚂𝚙𝚘𝚝 - 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚔/𝙰𝚍𝚊𝚖 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚝

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Warnings: derogatory terms towards reader ,mention of abuse, mention of eating disorder, descriptions of gore, panic attack, character death (not frank or reader) Word count: 12.4k (nervous laughing) Genre: fluff + angst Summary: Frank clearly devleops a soft spot for one of the other members of the crew, getting quite protective over her at times Pairings: plussize!reader x frank A/n: I don't care what anyone says, I think that Frank is secretly a softy and would get protective of someone he likes (especially if the pairing is "Tough guy frank x sweet adorable girl")

Proof read?: haha your funny.

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taglist : @bizarrescribblez @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 @fizzyfazzy420 @lilyevans1 @endofradio

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"For those of you who don't know, I go by Lambert, you all came highly recomended and so far those recomendations are paying off. You know the rules. No real names. No backstories. And keep the grab-ass to a minimum. It is a 24 hour job, and the hard part is already over, now you babysit. But the only one that sees the girl is this one." He points to the dark haired woman in a trench coat. "So she only hears one voice. The rest of you, get comfortable. Questions?"

The dark haired woman speaks up. "Yeah, whose the girl?" Lambert replies quickly. "You don't need to know her name." The dark haired woman keeps pushing. "I don't care about her name,....whose kid is she?" Suddenly a third voice pops up behind you. "The fucks that matter to you?" It's the man with the glasses, the man who you feel like has been staring at you all evening. "A very wealthy man who's about to be 50 million dollars poorer." The dark haired woman accepts the answer. "Look, your safe here, and to be completely certain you can't be tracked, i'm going to collect your cellphones." Lambert goes to each one of you, collecting your phones, the blonde haired hacker refuses slightly before Lambert snatches her phone from her hands.

"Keep the doors locked, and the girl isolated. Is there anything else i can do for you before i leave you to it?" Now the larger man speaks up. "Uh how come we can't use our real names?" He speaks up again from behind you. "So if any of you fucks get caught you can't rat out the others." The driver and same large man mumble something to each other. "You want names? Fine. Frank." Lambert points at him. "Dean." Lambert points at the driver. "Sammy." Lambert points at the blonde woman. "Peter." Lambert points at the larger man. "Joey." Lambert points at the dark haired woman. "Kyla." Lambert points at you. Lambert goes to give the last man a name before he speaks up. "Damn, this man got his finger of the pulse of pop culture." Lambert rolls his eyes. "And your Don fucking Rickles, happy?" Rickles shrugs. "Not really." Dean mumbles again. "There's clean bedding and lit fires in the rooms. Kitchens fully stoked ,as is the bar. So, i'll see you in 24 hours my lovely pack of rats." And with that Lambert leaves shutting the door behind him and leaving the rest of you to go explore.

About 30 minutes after Lambert had left, and you had all found individual rooms to settle in, the crew acculumated in the bar. You sat on the edge of the pool table sipping a glass of rum watching the fire blaze. Joey was sat in an armchair not too far from you next to the fire. Sammy, Peter, Rickles and Frank were around the bar sipping thier drinks and chatting. And then there was Dean, who had somehow found a bike and was riding round the room like a child. You were deep in thought when Rickles suddenly spoke, catching your attention. "Come have a drink with us Joey?" She shook her head. "Gotta check on the kid soon. Maybe after." Dean stopped dead in front of you, looking at Joey. "Party pooper." You gave Dean a light smack on the arm. "Don't be a dick." He smacked his lips and carried on riding round the room.

"Hey, who do you guys think this girl's father is anyways?" You looked over at Peter who was now pouring a drink. Everyone started sharing their ideas, Joey suggesting it was "America's dad, Tom Hanks." After everyone gave a small chuckle, their gazes turned to you. "What about you Kyla?" You looked from swirling the dark liquid in your glass to feel Frank's gaze burning holes into you, unlike the rest who were actually just looking at you intrest. "Uh, bussines owner i guess?" Dean scoffed. "Your so boooooooooring." You pulled a digusted face and flipped him off.

He rolled his eyes and screeched up to Joey who had a small paper bag of candy in her hand that she quietly picked from. "Lemme get a piece of that candy." Joey glanced up at him with a small smile. "Get your own." Dean lightly raised his eyebrows. "Fuck you too,....you grew up with a bunch of brothers and sisters and shit......i'm like an expert at reading people. Joey raised her eyebrows. "Oh really?" Dean nodded. "You like a nanny or a babysitter." Dean then went on to describe each of the crew members in his little visions, describing you as someone neglected as a kid ,someone who wasn't taught how to take care of their body. "Wow, you might be the least perceptive person i've ever met." Dean looked at you puzzled before Joey joined in. "She's right, you got literally nothing anywhere close, about anyone."

You gave a small chuckle going back to your drink before Frank stepped foward and right next to you as he looked through his wallet before slamming a 100 bill on the edge of the pool table next to you. "Crisp 100 dollar bill you can tell me one true thing about me." Everyone went quiet before Joey passed. Frank gave a small chuckle before going back to his drink. You were about to sip your drink when Joey got up and stood where frank had just been. "You used to be a cop." She snatched the money from the table. You tilted your head. "Did he arrest you or something?" Sammy said from her spot at the bar. "No, it's the stance, the walk, the shoes, not to mention the standard issue glock, the shoulder holster and he used police hand signals back at the house." You rasied and eye brow and started listening more intently. "Not a street cop, no, too smart, you need to be in control." For some reason that little point sent a small shiver up your spine. "So i'm gonna say a detective, homicide or vice? And he tries to hide it but he's from Queens."

Peter chuckled and gave a small clap, before pulling out his own 100 dollar bill. "Hey, uh you do me too?" Joey looked at the muscular man before taking the money. "I almost feel bad taking this.....'cause you've basically got a fucking neon sign above your head that reads muscle." Peter continued smiling and flexed his muscles making you cringe and look away. "Quebec right? You got bullied in school, probably by dad too, so when you got bigger than everyone else, you turned the tables. Made it into a career." Peter's smile faded slightly as joey turned to Sammy who was now holding up a 20. "Wow, a 20? That's cheap considering you come form money." Sammy excitedly nodded. "It's true." Joey tilted her head slightly. "Which means your only in on this for the thrill, you don't get your hands dirty, you use a keyboard instead of a gun and tell yourself that makes whats you do not as bad,..... good luck when the illusion wears off." Sammy nodded again. "Very good."

She handed the 20 to Joey who now walked over to you and Rickles. She looked at Rickles first. "No money." Joey nodded slightly. "Then i'll leave it at 'semper fi', and you?" Joey leaned on the pool table next to you. To which you reached into your shirt and pulled out a 50, holding infront of her with you pointer and middle finger silently. Joey looked down at the note and started. "Mom wanted to put you in pageants as a kid, so limited you diet to leaves and water, but once you got away from her, you overate out of spite, now it's become a habit you can't stop, and you can't forgive yourself for it." You looked at the floor avoiding everyones eyes as an awkward silence filled the room.

Joey stepped back to the arm chair when Dean broke the silence. "Ay you forgot about me?" Joey cut him off. "You dont want me to do you." Dean looked at her slightly offended. "Aw, c'mon this is fun!" Joey looked at him and sighed. "Your not a professional." Now Dean really looked offended. "I'm the best motherfuckin wheelman in this town-" Joey cut him off. "I didn't say you weren't good, i said your not a professional. You've got.....loose wiring. Probably a sociopath." Joey walked to the door, ready to go check on the girl when Frank stopped her. "And you....are a junkie." Joey stopped in her tracks and everyone including you looking at Frank who was once again stood right next to you, but now had his hand mere inches from your thigh.

"Cop knows a junkie, you and your little candy affectation, long sleeves, why you don't wanna have a drink with us." Franks waltzed over to Joey who had now turned round to face him, as he removed his glasses and pulled out a small black clothe. "You in recovery or something? How many days you got? We gotta be worried about you?" You heard Joey's voice catch in her throat. "N-no." Frank leaned a bit closer to her. "No?....Don't ever fuck with me, i will know." Joey's posture stiffened up again. "I'm gonna go check on the girl." With that, Joey made her quick leave, Frank turned round and shrugged to the rest of you.

Sammy ,Peter and Dean started chatting by the bar, Rickles played pool by himself. You got up off the pool table and headed over to a group of leather seats surronding a glass table. You sat down with your back to rest of them and reached into your pocket, pulling out a silver ipod and some black earphones. You placed an earbud in and pressed play. You sighed and slumped down in the chair before feeling a smalltap on your shoulder. When you glanced over your shoulder you saw the surprisingly kind looking face of frank, smiling down at you with a half filled whiskey glass in his hand. You smiled back and sat up, patting the arm rest for him to sit.

"Hey you've been pretty quiet all night, somethin' bothering you?" You hesitated before nodding. "Just a bit nervous, never done something this big before." Frank nodded sipping his drink. "You'll be fine, we aint getting fucking caught, and even if we are, ill make sure non of those fuckers rat you out." You smiled slightly at him. "Frank are you saying you like me?" He flashed you a grin putting his glass down and shifting closer to you. "Im saying i like you back sweetheart." Your eyes narrowed looking up at him before he gave a small chuckle. "You think i havent noticed you stealing glances at me all night, or that i havent seen how your breathing picks up when i-" He suddenly placed his hand by your thigh, closer than he did earlier ,smirking as your breathing once again picked up. "Do that." You felt your cheeks heat up as he stood up, turning to walk away. "So shall i pretend you havent been staring daggers into me all night either?" Frank stopped and smirked and looked over his shoulder at you. "You could do, or your could acknowledge that ive been staring you because of that cute personality and thick hips, let it boost that deflated ego of yours."

As Frank made his way back over to the bar, you turned back around to face the glass table, smiling to yourself at the fact that Frank was being a genuinly thoughtful and sweet man to you. He had noticed that you had some, well quite a few insecurities, and instead of ignoring and feeding them, he gave them positive attention. You kept replaying his expressions and words in your head, so when Joey walked back into the room and sat next to Frank at the bar, you didn't notice her. Howver you did notice whne Frank suddenly got up and walked out the room. You frowned and went over to joey. "Hey whats up with Frank?" Joey shrugged. "God knows with him." You hummed in agreement before pouring another drink and sitting on the pool table again.

Rickles came over and you got chatting to him, when Frank suddenly came back into the room, grabbed his leather trench coat and started heading to the door. Joey got up from her seat following him, as did you. "Im out, cut my share how you want but im not fucking staying here." You and joey kept following and questioning Frank ,till he stopped just before the entrance, turned round and snapped at you both. "What's going on is that we are fucked. That little girl is kristoff lazar's daughter." The rest of the crew started to come into the lobby right as he said that, however whereas other people started to turn pale, you were with Sammy. "Whos kristoff lazar?" Frank turned o look at her dumbfounded. "Who's Lazar?" Dean walked over nonchalantly. "Bro thats a urban legend man calm down." Frank turned to the joint smoker ready to strangle him. "No dude, he is not a fucking urban legend. He is very fucking real believe me. Nobody even knows how big his fucking empire is." Frank started pacing and running his hand through his hair whilst your turned to Rickles like a confused puppy and asked about lazar, to which you got an explanation which made your blood run cold.

"Is Lambert fucking insane? He just put a death mark on all of us, including himself." You started to fiddle with your fingers, feeling your breathing get tight. "What if we just like.... yknow, give her back? And say sorry?" You turned to Sammy. "Sammy i dont think thats how kidnapping from someone dangerous works." Frank shook his head turning round. "Oh yeah, heres your daughter 'Mr fucking Antichrist' really sorry, hope she's not too traumatised. Lets play a round of golf sometime." Sammy narrowed her eyes at frank then promtly flipped him off. "This isnt the time for sarcasm ok?" Frank looked down at his feet and sighed. Suddenly joeys eyes lit up. "Lets just leave. We leave her with some food, make an anonymous phonecall, get the fuck out of dodge. It's not like shes seen our faces?" Everyone started nodding in agreement before Frank interupted her. "Uh actually she has, thanks to you." Joey raised an eyebrow. "I was supposed to be the only one in and out of the room, and i wore my mask." Joey crossed her arms as Frank walked over to her and looked down at her. "Well I didn't! So i walk in there and see Billy fucking Elliot's cute little peepers memorising my fucking face!"

Everyone else's eyes turned to joey accusing and blaming her. "And it's not even like the rest of us could leave since joey told her everything about us." Frank held his jaw shaking his head. "You ust had to do your little magic trick." The air grew tense, so tense you could phsically feel it. "So if leave her we dont get none of that kidanpping money? I kinda need that money right now." Dean raised a good point. "How much do you trust lambet?" Frank glanced back at joey. "I trust him enough, but that doesn't make it worth the risk though."

"If 7 million per person isnt worth the risk then what is?" You leaned against the book case watching frank as he took off his glasses and held his head. "Alright he wouldn't of had us kidanp this kid unless he thought we could pull it off. Maybe we all just pretend like we don't know who her father is, and with the money we are making from this we just disappear forever, hmm? Start a new life, and i never have to see any of you fucks again." Although you knew Frank was grouping all the rest of you together and he was clearly stressed, the feeling of never getting to see him again hurt you. "Everyone stay alert. Any threat is gonna come from outside, so we set a perimeter and we hold it. Rickles takes first watch in the crows nest. Joey, secure the interior, look for anyways in or out. What is it like, 22 more hours? 22 hours,... fuck." With that everyone split off, leaving you in the lobby.

You continplated going against the plan and walking out, the door was right behind you, the girl hadnt seen your face, the information joey had given about you wouldnt help track you, you could vanish. However there was something that kept your feet firmly in place, you knew exactly what that thing was aswell. You knew it started with F and ended in k. So instead of wlking out the door, you headed to the far corner of the house where you had found a room to settle in. You reached into your pocket to pull out your ipod again when you heard faint loud noises. They sounded like Dean, they sounded like him....screaming. Although your heart told you to stay put, your legs were up and moving to the source of the sound. You made your way through the halls quietly when you made it to the kitchen, but it was dead quiet, yet you swore this was where the sound came from.

You grabbed a large kitchen knife to arm yourself and started looking around, on the opposite side of the kitchen was a door, you pushed it open slowly. "Hello? Dean are you in here?" You walked through the door and looked round the dark room, it seemed to just be an old storage room and the lowest stop of an elavator that most likely didnt work. After deciding there was nothing in there, you headed back to the kitchen but gasped when you got to the door as dean was now sat in a chair with his back to you. "Dean i know your a dick but is this really the best tim-" As you scolded him you walked over and gave him a shove before freezing as his head rolled straight off of his shoulders. You stared down at it for a moment before letting out a blood curdling scream. You dropped the knife and backed up to the sink shaking as your chest grew tight. Moments later Frank ran into the room holding his gun. He looked down at Dean's head, the up at you, to see you bent over the sink gagging and throwing up the alcohol you had earlier. Frank made his way over to you and held your hair back whilst giving you soft and sympathetic words. Once you stopped throwing up, you looked up at him with teary eyes, to which Frank's face softened before he pulled you into him ,rubbing your back and hushing you.

As you buried your face in Frank's chest, the rest of the crew rushed in, all of them pulling disgusted face and cursing under their breath. "The fuck happened?" Joey looked at you as you pulled away from Frank sniffling. "I heard screaming, looked round, saw him in the chair and when i touched him,....that happened." Joey looked at the bod before narrowing her eyes. "Be honest what does that looked like to you?"

"It looked like a fucking wild animal ripped him apart." Joey gave a subtle nod of her head at frank who started pacing. "No, no no, I'm not fu-, we're not fucking going there." You started to fiddle with your fingers again as sammy came over and wrapped her arm round you. "Why are you all acting so weird?" Joey sighed and leant on the table. "There's stories, about lazar's hitman."

"Can we not do this? Please?" Seeing Frank this worried most definatly didn't comfort you one bit. "Valdez." You rested your head on Sammy's shoulder as Rickles started. "I heard a story once, 3 of Lazar's top guys got pinched a few years ago, FBI flipped 'em. The night before the trial were all hauled up on the top floor of a hotel. A dozen agents in the next room, and two in the door. The next morning FBI goes into the room. All they bodies were ripped apart. Limbs, and organs missing. Decapitations. Thats his signature, Valdez, he's a fucking animal. And there was no way in or out or that room aside from the front door and the 23rd story window. So how'd he do it?"

"Bullshit." Sammy piped up before Frank shut her down. "It's not fucking bullshit. It's not the first time i heard that story." You ran your fingers through your hair nervously. "We should probably check on the girl. You nodded and all made your way up to Abigail's room. Once up there, Frank and Joey went towards the door and creaked it open to check if the young girl was still there and alive. You, Rickles, Peter and Sammy stayed a little bit further back when Peter started talking about splitting Dean's share to which Sammy scolded him for. "You welcome to my share Pete, you could be the richest headless man in america." Right as Frank and Joey came back over, Rickles started heading back downstairs. Like before with Frank, everyone followed, only to see that when Rickles opened the front door, there was a metal gate covering the exit. Rickles tried ramming but it was no use. Then peter tried, again, no use, you were all trapped. Trapped in the house with the same monster that killed dean, yet you had no clue where, or worse, who Valdez was.

Before anyone could say something ,suddenly wodden shutters began to rise and cover all exits. Now you really were trapped. Rickles picked up a wooden chair and flung it at one of the covered windows only for the chair to fall to bits on impact. Rickles panted before his eyes widened and he took off upstairs again. "If this is Valdez, maybe he checked on the girl and left her there to throw us off." Joey nodded before heading upstairs to go check on abgail. The rest of you headed to the bar area and tried to distract yourselves. Although however hard you tried, all you could think about was Valdez ripping you to bits, or draining you of your blood till you were as pale as a ghost.

You quickly got up and headed to the bathroom, locking yourself in it without warning. The others watched and heard the lock, it was clear you werent just using the bathroom. Peter shook it off and started talking to sammy as Frank stared at the door before getting up and going over to it. He pressed his ear to the door and heard you hyperventlating through broken sobs. He gave a small knock on the door. "Kyla? It's frank, can you let me in?" You sniffled before slowly turning the lock on the door. The door pushed open and you saw Frank look down at you with a worried and sympathetic look in his eyes before he clicked the door shut. You looked into his for a second before turning away from, embarassed by your current state. "Hey, hey look at me. Please?" His voice was soft and reassuring, you slowly turned back around and looked up at him. Frank crouched down slightly to come to your level and held your hands.

"Listen sweetheart, im not gonna let anything hurt you, alright? Not Valdez, not any of those other schmucks. Nothing is gonna hurt you while im around, ok?" You nodded and squeezed his hands. "I-i just don't wanna die, not here, not like this, any other way than like this, i mean its not like i have much to go back to, but still, i cant die not ye-" your sentence was suddenly cut off at the feeling of Frank's soft lips crashing agaisnt yours. Although this stunned you, you didn't pull away or push him off you. Instead you wrapped your arms round him and hummed softly into the kiss. After a few seconds, you both pulled away, your face now noticably redder, and Franks with a cute grin spread across his lips. You just looked into each others eyes for a good 30 seconds, Frank's were full of admiration and perhaps lust, before his hands snaked round your waist, pulling you against him. He leant down, the faint remains of whiskey still evident on his breath as he whispered in your ear. "How about, after me and you get out of this fuckin' hellhole, we get to know each other a bit better maybe properly grab some drinks,......or try out each others beds." You bit your lips slightly before the feeling of Frank's hands sliding down your back, over you ass and grasping the back of your thighs sent a shiver down your spine.

He lifted you up and placed you on the batheroom counter carfully as you admired the soft yet attractive look on his face. "I-i'd like that quite alot." Soon enough Frank's hands moved from your thighs and used his thumbs to wipe away the tears that remained on your cheeks as he held your face. "Atta girl." He smiled and winked cutely before lifting you off the counter. "Now if you wouldnt mind i do actually need a piss after the drinks earlier so." He gestured towards the door and you nodded leaving the bathroom, blowing him a kiss as you did."

After hearing the lock again, you turned round to see Sammy stood behind you smirking with her arms folded over her chest. "Kyla, have you Frank got a little thing going by any chance?" You went slightly pale, went to say something but sammy cut you off. "Actually don't answer i already know the answer, not like you two were hiding it when he walked away from you smriking in here earlier, or when we came to see you after you screamed, you were so cuddled up to him!" You let a small smile creep onto your lips at how Sammy was adoring you and Frank together. "Mhm, like how youve been flirting and giggling with Peter all night?" Suddenly Sammy went pale herself before you looked over her shoulder to see and slightly stunned Peter looking at the two of you. "Sammy has been flirting with me?" You smiled at how cutely naive Peter was and how red Sammy had gone.

Sammy came up with an excuse to leave the room and headed into the main lobby. You got chatting with Peter before suddenly Sammy was being ushered back into the room at gunpoint by joey. Peter looked at the scene concerned. "Don't point that at, Sammy Joey." Joey briefly pointed her gun at Peter then at youas a warning. "Where. The fuck. Is frank?" You reluctantly pointed at the bathroom door. Almost on que, said door opened with Frank coming out the bathroom mumbling to himself before he looked up and widened his eyes slightly, putting his hands the air. "H-hey Joey, what's going on?" Joey kept her glare firmly on Frank. "Why'd you do it?" Frank tilted his head, confused. "Do what?" You glanced between Joey and Frank nervously. Frank had literally just swore you wouldn't get hurt, that he'd protect you, how could he do if he was dead? "Bring us here to kill us."

You, Sammy and Peter all looked at Frank in surprise at the accusation, Frank narrowed his eyes and poked the inside of his cheek with his tounge. "Don't do it Peter." All of you looked at Peter who was still just stood there, before turning back around to see Frank had pulled out his gun, which was now pointed at Joey. "I don't know what the fuck your talking about but you don't sound very calm right now little miss paranoid, so forgive the precaution. You guys know what the fuck she's talking about?" You and Sammy shook your heads, peter tried to give more of an answer. "I think she thinks you brought us here to kill us." You sighedpinching the bridge of your nose. "Wow. Fantastic insight Peter. Care to share whats on your mind Joey?" Joey tightened her grip on her gun. "You're Valdez." Frank looked rather offended at this. "You told the girl. You killed dean. and you just killed Rickles."

"I didn't tell that girl shit-"

"Bullshit!"

"Wow you got a lot going on up there junkie, but your brains not quite putting together huh? You let a little girl get inside your head? Your not as smart as you think you are. But the girl, she's fucking inspired, turning us agaisnt each other like this." Joey's eyes narrowed. "I believe her." Frank sighed before glancing at Peter. "I hate to say it but i think well have to get rough with her." Peter sighed before putting his glass down. "I'll do it." Joey tensed up before glancing at Peter who was heading for the door. "Dont take another fucking step Peter."

"Is just my job Joey."

"Look i just wanna get to the bottom of this. Yknow my team is dropping like flies, and well, our guest has besmirched my good name, and i take that very personally yknow?" Frank gave a small nod and Peter took off running. Joey sighed taking one last look at Frank before running after peter. Frank joined the line and started following Joey with his gun still raised. You and Sammy looked at each other before also following. By the time you both got there, Joey had her gun pointed at Peter, Frank had his gun pointed at her and Abigail was sat on the bed, frantically asking Joey questions about what was going on. You watched as the three of them started arguing before Sammy gave your shoulder and tap. You looked at her then where she was looking.

Abigail, now not looking so innocent or frightened, cracked her hands and slid them out of the cuffs with ease before standing up on the bed. "Guuuuuuys!" The other three turned their heads to abigail right as she bowed down, covering her face with her arms. "What the fuck, how the fuck did she get outta those cuffs?" Before anyone could say another thing, Abigail dropped her arms and screamed, revealing that she was a vampire, and most likely valdez. Curses filled the air before the little monster pounced onto Peter's back and raised her head back to bige him. Just before she could however, Frank shot her in the head. She dropped to the ground and Peter rushed over away from the corpse. Well so you though, because mere seconds later, Abigail sat up and wiped the blood from her forehead, revealing no wound.

Sammy and Peter quickly left the room, Joey and Frank started shooting at Abigail but you just froze. Right as Joey and Frank backed up to the door, Abigail turned her gaze to you. She started charging at you before Frank's strong grip on your arm pulled you behind him, allowing him to shoot one more shot at abigail before slamming and locking the door. Frank backed up, keeping you behind him before the rest of you rushed down to the lobby where peter and sammy were catching their breath. "We kidnapped a fucking vampire!"

"Someone has been messing with us since we got here right? Its gotta be uh, uh some kind of trick." Joey turned round looking at him. "You know anyone who could pull off a trick like that?" Sammy held her head. "I feel sick."

"At least Valdez isn't here?"

"The fucking girl is Valdez Peter." Peter looked at Frank confused. "I thought her name was Abigail?" Frank just sighed mumbling his fustrations, when suddenly the banging from Abigail's room stopped. You looked up and round. "Now what the fuck do we do?" You said rubbing your arm. "Well what do we know about vampires?"

"What are we talking about like an anne rice, or trueblood, twilight, very different kinds of vampires?" Joey then started listing all the basics about vampires, soon Sammy and Frank Joined in, all while Peter stood aside telling the rest of you to "Shut up!" But when he said it one too many times, Frank walked over and wrapped his hand round peter's neck. Although you knew this was not the time, all you could imagine was Frank's hand your neck. Thankfully the red on your face could be easily mistaken for being oit of breath from the running. "Hey dum dum, we got a real fucking situation here. So i dont give a shit what you think. Either your helping us, or your 270 pounds of dead weight. Which is it?" Peter looked down at Frank and with what air he had, confirmed he would be helping. He then grasped Frank's wrist and forefully removed his hand from his neck. "Just don't do that again."

Despite the fact that Frank had a man that easily could beat him up, towering over him, he still maintained control. "There's pool cues in the games room, go sharpen 'em into stakes." Peter nodded slowly before walkin g off to the game room as instructed. Frank then gestured to sammy with his gun. "You, go check the kitchen for garlic." Sammy raised an eyebrow. "Alone?"

"Yes alone!" Sammy threw her hands up before heading of to the kitchen. "Ill go see if i can find anything." Joey went off to look, leaving you and frank. He let out a big sigh and swept his hair back before looking at you. You had a small cheeky grin plastered across your lips. "What? What's so funny? Hmm?" The sight of your little smirk did put a small smile on Franks face aswell. "I know Peter said he doesnt want you putting your hand round his neck." You went over and tugged on his jacket to bring him down so that you could whisper in his ear. "But, I'd happily let you put it round mine." You took a step back to see Frank trying to hold backa smile. "Oh is that so princess?" You nodded before letting out a small gasp when he gave your ass a smack. You giggled and were about give his lips a peck when Sammy burst into the room, mesh bag in hand.

"Got 'em!" You took one look in the bag and covered your mouth with your fingers to conceal a giggle. "Sammy, those are fucking onions." Sammy, looked at the bag and furrowed her brows. "Well i dont cook, i dont know." Peter walked back in, pool cues in hand. Uoey walked back in, empty handed. "Right, lets go kill us a fuckiing vampire." Frank started heading towards the kitchen before Joey stopped him. "I'm staying here." You all looked at her dumbfounded, before Frank asked what you were all thinking. "And why the fuck not?"

"You said it yourself, this girl is smart. shes been manipulating us from the start. We dont know if any of this stuff is gonna work, and even if it does, killing her would be the stupidest thing we could do." Frank sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He did no have the energy nor the paitence to argure right now. "Fine. Whatever, go put your feet up." Frank was about to start walking again when he looked at you. "Hey sweetheart, how about you stay down here with Joey for ,e? It's safer here than making you come with us ok?" You nodded and stepped over to Joey. "You two on me. Fucking onions." Frank led Sammy and Peter to the ktchen as Joey brought you to the game room where her bag was.

You got sat down, as did joey as she checked her guns ammo. You started to fiddle with your fingers nervously when you both looked up, hearing swan lake playing faintly from above you. "That cant be good in any way." Joey shook her head before rootingf through her bag. You glanced over at her. "You got some special anti vampire antidote in there or something?" She then pulled out the second anaesthetic syringe smiling. "Something like that."

After a few minutes you heard the others coming back down, and it didnt sound good, Frank was yelling ever curse under the sun and Sammy and Peter werw whimpering in pain. You and Joey headed to the bottom of the stairs to see Frank with a makeshift stake through his right thigh, Peter had a bloody chest and Sammy just look very out of breath. You quickly helped Frank into a chair and held his hand. He managed to stop cursing for a moment, well kind of. "I swear if you fucking say i told you so." He aggressivly pointed at Joey who rolled her eyes and walked over and grasped the end of the stake. She went to pull it out, before you shoved her away. "Have a fucking heart Joey. Just go Check on Peter." She looked surpised at your sudden asertivness but did so as you turned to frank who had his head tipped back trying not to cry and he groaned in pain and cursed some more.

You got him to look into your eyes as you gripped the stake. "Frank, count down from 3 for me ok?" He nodded and got to 2 before you quickly ripped the stake out. Frank keeled over, once again cursing as you reached in Joey's bag beside you and pulled out enough gauze pads and bandages to help the wound. Once you wrapped the wound, you stood up, pulling Frank's head forward so her forehead rested on your chest as you kissed the top of his head. His arms wrapped round your waist, pulling you closer to him as you stroked his hair. You smiled down at him before Sammy cleared her throat. "You two done cuddle fucking so we can go through the new plan." You raised an eyebrow before Frank flipped them off.

Joey explained that you would all split up lookin g for Abigail and whoever found her, would alert Joey who would jab Abigail with the syringe. You disscussed who was going where before starting the hunt. For the 15 minutes there was nothing. However Sammy started cutting out but you still make out her screaming about bodies in the pool. Joey started rushing towards the pool when Peter started screaming about the "Vampire on his ass." Wonderful.

Once You and Joey checked on Sammy, who now stunk to high heaven, you all headed to the east stairs where you saw Peter laid omn the ground anmd Abigail stood on Frank, choking and taunting him. Your blood ran cold and before you knew it, you were dragging the little vampire off of Frank. She somehow managed to knock the syringe out Joeys hand and behind a gate as she flailed around in your arms. Unfortunatly she managed to get the upper hand and kicked you backwards onto frank as sammy grabbed her from behind. You sat up with Frank in time to see Abigail sink her teeth into Sammy's arm. As a result, Sammy shoved Abigail towards you and frank. He quickly pushed you away from him, letting abigail grab his ankle at start to fly, dragging him with her.

You got up to stop her, but Peter came out of nowhere and tackled the girl to the floor, holding her under him as you pulled Frank back towards the stairs, before he pulled you behind him panting. By now you were all screaming at Joey to get the syringe before she finally grabbed it and rushed over, sticking it into Abigails arm. Abigail started screaming and cursing at all of you before she finally went down. You all sat back panting before Peter raised a good point. "What do we do with her now? She wont stay like that forever and clearly the cuffs are no good." You thought for second. "I've got it, next to the kitchen is a storage room and a dead elevator, we could lock her in that." Joey nodded as Peter picked up abigail and carried her down to the elevator.

Once Abigail was layed in the dead elevator with the gate sercuely locked, you and Frank headed into the kitchen and sat at the table whilst Peter stayed with Sammy and Joey as Joey bandaged up the bite mark on Sammy's arm. You were bouncing your leg whilst deep in thought when Frank's hand gently layed on shaking thigh, catching your attention. "You alright sweetheart?" His worried eyes met yours, before you smiled softly placing your hand on his. "Just thinking dear, you can relax a bit, im not made of glass and i can defend myself." He smiled slightly and kissed the back of your hand.

Before either of you could say another thing, Joey called you over to the elevator as Abigail was once again awake. She rattled the bars of the gate, pretending to plead with you all before shut it down and Abigail went back to her demonic self. "Your really good at pretending to bne a little girl." Abigail gave a small curtsey. "Thank you, had a few centuries of experience."

"Tell us how to get out of here, and we'll let you go." You looked at Joey slightly concerned on whether she was serious or not. Abigail smiled and shook her head before Sammy came storming foward, having to be held back by you and Joey. "Hey! What's gonna happen to me?"Abigail shurgged. "Am i gonna turn into a vampire?!" Abigail thought for a seond. "Maybe?" Sammy looked between her and Joey for a second before pacing back and throwing her hands up. "Oh my god! She said maybe!" Peter stood back and tried to comfort the ditressed blonde. "Listen, little lady, or ma'am, whatever. We're very sorry, ok? We didnt know who you were, we thought you were just some fucking regular 12 year old girl."

"You were gonna beat me and torture me, when you thought i was just a regular 12 year old girl?" Frank was about yo contiue before you stepped foward. "Yeah and we still have good reason to, so i suggest you shut your spiky little mouth sweetheart." Abigail raised her eyebrows at you. "So you do speak, i thought all mouth did was eat." You narrowed your eyes, not taking the comment to heart. "Listen here you little brat, as soon as i get my hands on you, im gonna drive 100 stakes through that rotten little heart of yours-" Frank pulled you back. "Alright that's enough Kyla, Abigail, look. Like i say, we're very sorry, we would never of taken you if we knew who your father was."

"You did work for him didnt you?" All eyes turned to Frank. "Havent you wondered why i brought you all here?"

"You brought us here?" Abigail held her forehead cursing under her breath. "There was never any money, i planned all of this. Lambert works for me." You and Frank let out a sigh of disapointment. "What are you talking about?" Abigail turned to Sammy. "Don't you know, Jessie?" Your eyes flicked between Abigail and Sammy. "What did you just call me?" Abigail chuckled before continuing. "Jessica Hurney.You started your career siphoning money from your affluent parents’ bank accounts. Hedge funds came next,then private offshore accounts,and eventually, much bigger fish. One in particular." Sammy went slightly pale before clearing her throat. "I can give it back." Abigail pretty much ignored her as she turned to Peter.

"Terrence Lacroix. Muscle for the Montreal Broussard family. Did it bore you, snapping necks for pay? Enduring endless taunts from your colleagues about your stunted intellect? Is that why you stole from your crew, who just happened to be a tiny subsidiary of our empire? How long did the money last, you weak, disloyal inebriate?" Peter stayed quiet as Abigail now turned to Frank.

"Former Detective Adam Barrett. You thought you could infiltrate our New York arm under deep cover. But you liked the life a little too much, didn’t you? The power you had when you were free of rules and regulations. It became an addiction. How empty did you feel when you finally arrested our three lieutenants you’d worked so hard to get close to? And how empty did you feel after I ripped up their bodies in the hotel penthouse because of you? You changed your name, you left town, and you never saw your family again. But it wasn’t for their safety, was it, Detective Barrett?" Your blood ran cold as Abigail mentioned he had a family, that he left, he wouldnt do that to you right? Right?

"We have the tragic Ana Lucia Cruz. Former Army medic drummed out of service for shooting up Uncle Sam’s morphine. You tried to take care of your son, before abandoning him to his fuckup of a father. You became an underground doctor for some very shady people. But one day, you were just too high to do your job, and instead of removing a bullet, you nicked an artery, and someone very important to my father’s business bled out. But you and Detective Barrett have something in common. You never went back for your son."

"Shut the fuck up!" Joey's words fell on deaf ears to you as Abigail turned to you smirking. "Finally, we have the pathetic, seemingly innocent, Y/n, Y/m/n, Y/l/n. The woman who not only allowed, but watched as her mother was murdered. You played the victim when the police arrived, and managed to walk away with 20 grand as inheritance. And that grew into a habit didn't it? You learned by acting differently around different people, you could get whatever your greedy heart desired didn't you? But little did you know, before you were even born, your mother had part of my fathers top advisers, how do you think she afforded to give you your luxury childhood hmm?" You now had tears threatening to spill from your rage filled eyes as you glared at Abigail.

"That woman was evil, she didn't care about me in the slightest, she deserved every second of it!" Frank pulled you towards him and rubbed your back. "And what do you tell yourself huh? That you wanna be your daddy's little errand girl? No, he did lose intrest in you, that wasn't a lie. How many of your fathers enemies do you think your gonna have to kill, until he loves you again?" Abigail's smirk dropped and she stayed quiet. "If this is about revenge, why didnt you just kill us? Why did you bring us here?"

"Because it isn't. This is just a game to her."

"Bullshit, she was screaming at the house, and dad triggered the alarm."

Joey tilted her head. "That wasnt even her father. That wasnt Lazar. And for what? Because your fucking bored? For your fucking entertainment?"

"What can i say? I like to play with my food. Your the same as all the other meat sacks ive brought here over the years, nothing different about any of you, nothing special. Just something to help me pass the time." Joey narrowed her eyes. "Quick question, whos in a cage right now?" Abigail's smile faltered for a second. "If you let me out, ill let two of you live." Peter looked at the rest of you for a second before looking back at abigial. "Which two?" You quickly turned to hum. "Peter what the fuck?"

"It's a surprise." Frank pulled his gun out. "Fuck this, lets just kill her now." Abigail smiled evily at him. "You tried that Frank, if you would like to open this door and try again, please do." You rolled your eyes. "God she's annoying."

"My offer just expired. Now i'll only let one of you live, whoever lets me out." Your eyes glanced over at Peter who had tensed up before he pulled his gun out and pointed it at Joey who did the same thing, pointing it at Peter. "She's fucking lying moron, you touch that door your as dead as the rest of us." Peter nodded his head to the side. "Maybe it's worth a try." You clenched your fists nervously as Joey tied to talk him out of it. "We have her Peter, that's why we did this, so we could trade her for our lives."

"That will never happen, Joey was right, no matter how many of you i kill, my father doesnt love me and hes not gonna trade anything for me. So go on Peter, let me out." Peter looked at the lock of the door for second then back up at joey. "Peter if you touch that door i will shoot you." Despite the warnings both Joey and Frank had given him , Peter still slowly reached for the lock before Joey aimed her gun lower and shot Peter in the hip. He yelled out in pain as you removed his gun from his hand. "Cmon, let me go patch you up, Frank, Kyla, help me out, Sammy watch her." Sammy snorted before shaking her head. "Fuck that shit." Joey was about to arugue before Sammy spoke again. "I'm not staying down here with that, fuck that shit joey." Joey sighed before glancing at Frank, he nodded as you and her helped Peter out of the room and to where her bag was.

Frank sat down groaning and took off his glasses to pinch his nose. By now his head had started throbbing from the extensive stress and blood loss. "The offer still stands Frank. Open the door and ill let you keep all your blood." Frank chuckled lightly and looked at her with an 'oh really' face. "Organs too." Frank looked down at his lap shaking his head. "Im serious. You could be useful to us."

"Why don't you, tell me, how to get the fuck outta here,... and ill consider it." Abigail raised an eyebrow at him. "If i told you, you'd just leave me here. You first." Frank put his glasses back on and gestured with the stake in his hand. "You know what? My offer just expired. Have fun spending eternity in a fucking elevator." He started walking away when Abigail piped up. "Wait. Ill tell you. But you have to let me out immediatly after i do." Frank stopped and slowly turned back around. "Alright, fine. It's a deal."

"There's a secret door in the library, the bookshelf on ghe right wall, and then there were none." Frank smiled and hummed. "Very good, thanks." Abigail tilted her head. "Wait, a deals a deal." Frank spun on his heels. "Oh right, the deal. Aint i a silly billy?" Abigail gave a fake smile as he walked over and held the key. He half turned the key before turning it back again, taking it out and letting it drop onto the floor. "Still guilable at your age? You fucking freak." He chuckled looking down at the bloody girl before she start giggling manically. "What's so fucking funny?" Abigails face turned dead for second before she shoved the door off it's hinges, sending it and Frank flying back.

You and Joey both heard the bang and looked at each other before both running down to the room. By the time you got there, Abigail was stood over Frank. She looked up at you both before smiling and kneeling down on Frank, grabbing his collar. Joey quickly grabbed Frank's stake off the floor and busted open some wooden boards. Daylight shone threw the cracks and right as Abigail reared back her head to bite into Frank's neck, the light hit her arm, causing it to explode. She screamed out in agony and crawled backwards away from the light. You quickly ran over and helped Frank to his feet, his face now covered in blood. You all bolted out the room, the last thing you saw was the bone in Abigail's arm starting to heal and regrow. You all ran up to Sammy and Peter, and frantically told them to follow you to the library.

Once everyone made it there, you slammed the doors shut and put a chair under the handles. Joey and Peter were stood in the sunlight catching their breaths but Sammy stood just out of it. She slowly put her finger into the light, and when nothing happened, she smiled and stepped into the sunlight, practically bathing in it happily. "Looking for some light reading Frank?" When you looked over Frank was intently looking at the titles of the books on she shelf. "Shut the fuck up." Suddenly his finger stopped on the spine of one book. He looked over at the rest of you smirking. "And then there were none." He pulled the book down, expecting something to happen, but when nothing did happen, he started angrily cursing and knocking all the books off their shelves before limping over and throwing his stake onto the gorund as he sat down on the steps holding his head.

"You good?" Frank removed his glasses and wiped some blood from his face. "So what the fuck now?" Frank looked up at Joey panting. "She was already healing, you and Kyla saw it aswell. Keep an eye on the door, stay in the light." You all watched as Joey started looking round the library. First she looked up the fire place, then headed to a wall by the door. She knocked on it and pressed her ear against it, before back to you all. "Grab something, we can break through this wall." You tilted your head before stepping towards her. "Look Joey, we dont even know what's behind that wall, it could quite literally just be a hole in the wall they boarded up, its not worth wasting our energy on. If you want to try and break into the wall, go ahead, but i don't think any of us have the energy to spair at the moment." Joey looked over your shoulder to see Sammy, Peter and Frank all giving her the same expression, an expression that agreed with you. She crouched down and picked up a fire poker before coming back up to your level, noses almost touching before she spat out a "Fine".

You sighed as she headed back over to the wall and started beating at it. You layed on the top step with you head in Frank's lap, if you were most liekly gonna die in the next 24 hours, you might as well enjoy what time you had left. Frank's, thankfully not bloody, hand soon found hair and stroked it soothingly. Neither Peter nor Sammy seemed fazed by you and Frank, by now it seemed normal to them. You started getting lost in thought when Peter's voice broke you from your thoughts. "Kyla, what did Abigail mean about you watching your mother die?" You turned you head to the side to look at Peter. "What's it matter, the story will die with me in the next 24 hours anyways?" Frank's hand stopped in your hair for a moment. "Well if you are gonna die, you might as well share the story one last time sweetheart." You looked up at Frank who was smiling down at you.

You thought about it for a second before sighing. “Honestly she deserved every second of it. She made my childhood, my life a living hell. She genuinely thought that if she bought me all the expensive toys, dresses, material shit, she thought that it all made up for the fact that she starved and endangered me, just so that I was pretty. Y'know as i got older, i started realizing what she was doing, we argued about it more and more. Then one night, the week after my 17th birthday, we were giving each other the silent treatment after another fucking argument, I was sat on the floor watching some movie, she was sat in her chair, probably texting some younger guy to hook up with and there was this, client. She had severely pissed him off and he snuck into the house,and he….he stabbed her 18 times, right in front of me, all while she screamed for me to stop him. A-and I just sat there, and I watched, smiling. The police arrived about 10 minutes later and I acted like I didn't see it happen, got away with my inheritance and went on with my life, like nothing had happened. But the thing was, i feel like, like if that fucking derranged guy didn't kill her that night, i feel like, i-i wasnt far off of doing it myself."

Your voice cracked a couple times before you shook away any regret for what you had just said. "Shit. Didn't expect that from you." Your eyes moved up at met the surpirsed gaze of Sammy. "How long ago was it? You sat up and leaned agaisnt Frank who wrapped his arm round you. "7 years ago now." You held Frank's hand when you heard Joey grunt loudly and throw the firepoker onto the ground. She walked over, sat by your feet , reached into her pocket and pulled out her paper candy bag. However when she dug her fingers into, there was no more candy left. Joey scrunched up the bag in her hand and rested her head on her hand. "Aw you ran outta candy?" Sammy looked at Joey before getting up and walking over, taking a seat next to her. "Im scared."

Joey looked at the blonde before offering her smile and rubbing her arm. "Was that true, what she said about your son?" Joey looked down before nodding. "But i got clean. I was gonna go back for him, that was-, is the plan." Sammy nodded. "That's good, how often do you get to talk to him?"

"I try calling him, i just, i can't do it. That's why i took this job. With that money i can, start over yknow? Reset."

"Boohoo. Fucking bullshit. It's not about the money, the moneyys an excuse. You didn't go back for your kid because you scared youll be a piece of shit mother. God everyones gotta be a fucking victim nowadays. Aww 'i left because i was on drugs. I was on drugs because i got hurt.' Own your fucking shit and go be mother to that kid." Sammy and Joey looked at him almost in shock. "Oh im sorry, did i hit a fucking nerve?" You gave him a smack and shook your head when he looked at you confused. "Honestly Joey, for what it's worth, i think youll make a great mother, you cant be any worse than mine was alright?" Joey smiled at you and gave a subtle thank you.

Suddenly Sammy's eyes widened before stood up. "Reset. I don't need to hack the locks i just need a power source. And if i have the power source we can just, short it." Frank scoffed. "What so you'll just unplug the house?" Sammy nodded before Joey got up. "Ok we search the house. 2 teams. And we don't stop till we find it." You got up, a sense of hope rushing through you. "Well who's going with twilight here?" Peter got up holding a reflective silver tray. "Ill go with her, i uh, saw your reflection in this earlier." Sammy smiled and took the tray from Peter's hand, using it as a mirror. "Oh my god im filthy!" Peter chuckled and she dropped the tray as they began to walk off. You, Joey and Frank looked at each other before getting up and going to look yourselves.

You all started looking round an old decreped room of the house that hadnt been touched already during your stay. Although he knew you probably didnt need it, Frank still stayed close to you. You pulled some vines off of a wall with your torch in your mouth but found nothing. Joey split off down a near by corridor to expand the search whilst Frank helped you continue to search the large room you were in. You glanced over at Frank and smiled to yourself. "Yknow something?" He turned to look at you, blinding you with his torch for a second before lowering it. "Yeah?" Yousat down on the base of a statue looking up at him. "I always used to dream of dating a cop." Frank chuckled before shaking his head. "Look sweetheart, i know i used to be, but im nowhere close to being a cop anymore. I left that life behind me."

"Like how you left your family?" His eyes suddenly shot up to see yours were no longer happy, but filled with disapointment and maybe even fear. Frank shook his head and was about to explain himself but you just held your hand up before pushing yourself to your feet and walking over to him. "Frank? Be honest, are you gonna do that to me?" Frank quickly shook his head and held your face between his hands. "Listen, my ex wife and kid, they didnt want me around, they didnt love me, they practically threw me away so i them away with my old life, but you, you're nothing like that. I'd rather burn alive then leave you. You're so beautiful and so sweet, and i promise, i will never. Ever leave you, ok?" You gave a small nod before he leaned down and planted a loving kiss on your lips."

You smiled and were about to throw your arms around him before Sammy's voice came over the comms. "She's on the east side!" Frank immediatly took your hand and started running towards the area where Sammy and Peter had gone. He accidentaly bumbed into Joey, giving the three of you a quick scare before continuing to make your way over. You managed to get there quickly, and stopped at the doorway of the long room. It was a long thin room with overgrowth coverinng most of the walls. Along one wall of the room were windows covered mostly by boards, allowing sunlight to shine through and bounce off of the few marble statues dotted round the room. And there at the other end of the room, was Sammy, knelt down infront of Peter's bloody body. From what you could see, he had a chunk of his throat ripped out and bloody spilling out of the open wound.

Sammy started to charge at you before Joey quicjly grabbed the silver tray from the floor and held it above her head, angling it in the sun so that the light hit the reflective surface and bounced off straight onto Sammy. Her body immediatly exploded, sending a gallon of blood and guts splattering onto the three of you. Thankfully you and Frank had raised your arms, and Joey still held the tray, so not much blood got on your faces. However it still drenched your hair and clothes. You all slowly lowered your face shields slowly, shock and horror plastered on your faces. Joey dropped the tray and stumbled back slightly as Frank removed his glasses and looked round. You cursed under your breath and leant agaisnt a pillar. "That was fucking,... woah." All three of you just kind of stood there for a few seconds, too shocked to know what to do next. "Now what do we do about the real fucking problem?" Almost on que, a small creaking turned all your attentions to a bookcase that had swung open to reveal a secret passage.

"Oh no, oh no. He's dead, she got him, oh noo." Immediatly you could tell something was off with Sammy, she sounded far too sarcastic as she 'grieved' over Peter. "What happened?" Sammy quickly shushed joey. "Shes still in here." Joey glanced at you with a suspicious and worried look on her face. "Come over here Sammy." The blonde stayed together quiet for a second. "Fine." She slowly rose to her feet and turned around, revealing the bottom half of her face covered in blood and her teeth now jagged and pointy like Abigail's. "Run." Joey took off running, you grabbed Frank's hand and followed closely behind her, heading back to the library. Sammy, or rather, Abigail let out a screech and charged after you. You managed to get to the library, Sammy close behind when Joey pulled you and Frank over into the sunlight. Frank shoved you behind him and Joey protectively as Sammy entered the room. Sammy stopped by the door and looked round. "I always hated this room, my father turned me in here. Alot of painful memories." She continued to look up and round as if she was reminiscing before turning her gaze back to the three of you. "But it's never too late to make new ones."

"Well, thats uh-"

"A trap?"

You nodded staring at the door as Frank put his glasses back on. "But what the fuck else are we gonna do?" Joey pulled out her gun and you swapped yours with Frank for the last stake, before you all cautiously made you way over and into the hallway. The first part of the hallway looked like the inside of a thick wall with wooden supports along the walls and a few lit laterns providing as little light possible. The three of you then turned a corner to see a more house like set of walls. They were a faded grey colour, with chunks of paint missing and peeling. You stalked your way to the end of the corridor where a tiled room, most likely storage, was open on your left. You all looked into the room to see a shut door, behind which you could hear muffled speaking. However this sound didnt sound like actual people having a conversation. Instead it sounded like a video being played.

As you inched closer to the door, you realised the sound was Frank, but from earlier when he called Joey a junkie. The three of you looked at each other before Joey yanked the door open, allowing Frank to step in. As soon as he did, he started charging foward, followed by you and Joey. There, infront of monitors playing the nights events, was Lambert, he was facing away from you, but not for long. Once Frank was in stranggling distance, Lambert spun round and snarled at the three of you, showing off his set of jagged teeth aswell. Frank stumbled back, holding his arm over your stomach to keep you back aswell. "Oh fuck! Your one of them, hes one of them!"

"Abigail turned me two years ago. She found out i helped you in new york. She came for me and threatened my family, Now all i do is bring her father's enemies here, so that she can play her little hunting game. But i am done." Frank's eyes quickly glanced at your frightened face before looking back at Lambert. "What's your fucking point?"

"No shit Frank." Joey held her gun pointed straight at Lambert as you watched on wide-eyed. "What the fuck is happening motherfucker?!" Lambert smirked. "I brought you here to offer you a deal." You pushed Frank's arm down and stepped foward. "We aren't taking any fucking deals." Joey stepped foward aswell. "Especially not from you, you bastar-" Before she could finish her sentence, both you amd Joey had Lambert holding you against the wall by the neck. "I wasn't talking to you two. I'm surprised the fat one made it this long." Both of you started to paw desperatly at Lambert's wrist, not that it was any use. He turned to Frank who looked into Lambert's eyes before a wave of realisation hit him and he lowered his gun. "You fucking set me up?"

"Fuck it. Bite me." You turned your eyes away from Frank, still pawing at Lambert's wrists. Lambert chuckled as Frank smirked at him before slamming you and Joey against the wall, rendering you both on the verge between conciousness and unconciousness. Lambert threw you both on the floor behind him and walked over to Frank before sinking his teeth into Frank's neck. Frank let out a tring of curses as he backed up into the wall and slid down it. Lambert bit his own am before holding over Frank and letting his blood drip into his mouth. By now Joey was starting to come to and quietly crawled over to you. As she gently shook you to try and make you come to, Frank began to gag before spewing up god knows how much blood. He did so for a solid 10 seconds before his head dropped down groggily.

"You can die here. Or you can help me kill Abigail. Help me take her, and you can have anything you fucking want. But you'll need a little upgrade." You let out a small plead. "Im not gonna become a fucking puppet like sammy, fuck no." Lambert smiled and shook his head. "No. You'd be just like me. You get the complete treatment. Total autonomy." Franks eyes glanced back at you and Joey again. "Ive told Lazar theres a problem, he's on his way. We'll kill the girl. We'll kill her father. And we'll take over the whole fucking thing." You let out another pathetic plead for Frank before your heart dropped.

By now, you had slowly come to, only to look over and see Frank, in not the best shape, you let out a small whimper. To make matters worse, Lambert turned round to see you amd Joey looking up at him like frightened puppies. "Oh, your still with us? The big ones are always the stubborn ones. Frank, meet your first victims." Lambert look down at you both with an evil smirk as Frank's bloody self stood up behind him. You and Joey both crawled back slightly before the tip of the stake suddenly burst through Lambert's chest, causing him to yell in pain before exploding, just like Sammy did. His blood covered both you and joey, making you flinch and tense up.

You wiped your eyes and looked up to Frank, practically drenched in blood, now also with the vampire teeth you had seen one too many times in the last 24 hours. He chuckled looking down at the puddle of blood that used to be Lambert. "That's for setting me up and speaking to her like that you, you backstabbing prick." Frank slowly looked up grinning at you and joey, as he removed his glasses. His blue eyes seemed to shine through the blood covering his face, maybe signifying there was still some softness in him. "Oh yeah, i feel fucking great." Joey crawled infront of you slightly and picked up the stake from the ground infront of her, holding it out shakily.

Frank was about to say something when a soft humming caught all your attention. Your heads turned to the doo where Abigail was now stood. "So you found Lambert. Did he try and convince you to take it all before you killed him?" Abigail started giggling and Frank smiled tilting his head. "Our game ends here, ive made sure of that." Abigail charged towards Frank but before she could touch him, he grabbed the stake from Joey's hand and stuck in dead in the centre of Abigail's chest. Another explosion of blood. Frank turned back to you and Joey, grinning and chuckling as he looked down at your shaking frames. Frank tilted his head, still grinning before he crouched down to your level, looking right at Joey.

"Listen to me very carefully Joey, you're gonna leave, get yourself cleaned up and go to your kid. You're gonna go live your life with him, and you're gonna forget this night ever happened. But, if I find you telling anyone whatsoever, I will personally ensure that your head is torn from your shoulders, am I understood?" Joey nodded quickly and slowly rose to her feet. You also rose to your feet, but frank looked at you and chuckled evily. "Oh no sweetheart, you aren't going anyway, I said Joey could go, not you." You turned pale immediately thinking frank was gonna make you his puppet or just eat you.

"Joey please don't me leave me here." Tears welled in your eyes as you pleaded for Joey to help you. Joey did stop by the door before Frank gave her a final warning. "Joey I suggest you leave us before I change my mind about letting you off so easy." You shook your head as tears spilled but Joey simply mouthed sorry and took off. You squeezed your eyes shut and prepared to feel fangs dig into your neck.

However, when you felt nothing, you slowly opened your eyes to see frank looking, just unimpressed? “Darling, you think I've kept you to torture? After the night we've Spent together I thought you'd know better than that.” You simply stared at him before realizing he was serious. Frank just wanted you to stay with him, as his. Relief flooded over you before you felt Frank’s soft, but bloody lips pressed against yours. You wrapped your arm around him and hummed before he pulled back. “Shall We maybe go get cleaned up then?” Frank's sweet smile appeared as he held his hand out. His teeth didn't appear jagged or monster-like as he did, they were his normal pearly whites.

Slowly you took his hand before he guided you out of the room and back into the library, the sun had gone back down so Frank could walk around Care free as he led you to the room he had set up in, which thankfully had a shower. And as you walked, you realized that maybe, just maybe, living with an upgraded version of the man that fell for you on a kidnapping mission, wouldn't be so bad after all?

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*sighs* fucking finally.

I do plan to do a part 2 of this where they can finally fuck. However ,if yall are intrested, I will also write an alternate ending for all you angst obsessed peeps where frank does end up evil evil and dying like the original film.

I really hope this is ok, I've never written anything this long before so you can imagine this has took quite the time to write. I would really appreciate reblogs, likes and comments on this fic as my back is blown from sitting in the middle of my bed and my brain is sufficiently fucked and won't be writing anything for the next few months :)

Anyway that's all from me for now lovelys!

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[scoobydoodean]

omg i just finished your emma vs amy takes and the subsequent discourse about it (which was so refreshing to see btw!! love it when adults can be Adults and argue about the topic without insulting the other person) and I might get fried for this but that incident aside, do you have any other scene/episode in mind where sam reacts the same way or does the same thing?

(im sorry if this isn't your cup of tea for asks! your takes have been Enlightening)

You mean another situation where Sam shoots a person with supernatural abilities who hasn't shed blood and has a sympathetic backstory without giving them a chance? Not as overtly—Benny in season 8's "Citizen Fang" certainly comes to mind, but even Benny, Sam at least made a show of giving a chance by assigning Martin to keep tabs on him and make sure he didn't do anything wrong before trying to kill him. (Though whether there was conscious or subconscious sabotage involved when Sam chose Martin specifically—someone he knew to be mentally unstable—is certainly a good question given Sam had already made death threats about Benny before then.)

The fact that Sam's behavior in 7.13 "Slice Girls" is pretty unique is really what I want to point out about this episode in the first place—that Sam's actions in "Slice Girls" are inconsistent with his previous behavior and future behavior as far as "good" monster episodes. We can turn to examples such as:

1.14 where Sam insists they try and talk Max down instead of killing him, because Max's murders are a result of extensive abuse.

Lenore and her nest in SPN's seminal "monsters can be good" episode (2.03)

Sam thinking Andy is responsible for the killings in 2.05 but still waiting for proof before acting.

2.09 where Sam insists they not kill someone they think might be infected with Croatoan virus before he turns and tries to kill them because that doesn't give him a chance.

Two episodes where Sam faces off against Gordon because Gordon wants to kill him before Sam kills someone (2.10, 3.07)

2.17 where Sam and Dean search for a cure for Madison, who is not aware that she has been killing people.

4.04 Metamorphosis where Sam is the one who takes the initiative to research Rugarus, learns that they can survive without giving into their urges, and insist they go and talk to him about how his body is changing (lol) so he has the chance to fight the urge to kill and eat people.

5.06 where Sam and Dean oppose Cas who wants to kill Jesse, who is a child who is not aware that he has powers and is hurting people.

6.02 where Sam, even soulless, recognizes the innocence of a shifter baby.

Then we have Amy and Emma in 7.03 and 7.13 respectively.

8.04 where the brothers let Kate the Werewolf go because she was turned against her will and killed the man who turned her in self-defense.

8.09 Citizen Fang (already discussed)

I'm getting lazy but then we also have Magda and Jack Kline—both children with powers, one severely abused, the other the son of the devil with uncontrolled explosive powers that could end the world, both of whom Sam attempts to help work with their abilities.

Dean has a more structured series of personal "rules"—a litmus test we see from the very beginning—one Sam often follows as well, but I'm not sure Sam ever really fully grasps that Dean thinks this way.

Has this person hurt or killed anyone?

Was it on purpose or was it outside of their awareness?

If it wasn't on purpose, are they capable of learning to control their urges?

We see this code as early as 1.12 "Faith":

SAM Wait, what the hell are you talking about Dean, we can't kill Roy. DEAN Sam the guys playing God, he's deciding who lives and who dies. That's a monster in my book. SAM No. We're not going to kill a human being Dean. We do that we're no better than he is.

Dean applies the same reasoning in 1.14 with Max:

SAM These visions, this whole time -- I wasn't connecting to the Millers, I was connecting to Max! The thing is I don't get why, man. I guess -- because we're so alike? DEAN What are you talking about. The dude's nothing like you. SAM Well. We both have psychic abilities, we both... DEAN Both what? Sam, Max is a monster, he's already killed two people, now he's gunning for a third.

Despite the exact opposite being the typical fandom perception, early on we learn that Sam tends to define a monster by their features/abilities, while Dean defines a monster by their actions. We see the same with Amy—she is "a monster who killed four people" (7.07) . She isn't a monster because of what she is but because of what she did. This again—is also why Dean doesn't even consider killing her son right after her kid swears to kill him one day. We see Dean, in the rare cases where it comes up, is also perfectly fine with taking out human serial killers they stumble across (ex: Thin Man).

Sam will also kill a human serial killer at times (and murderous witches by 3.09), but he reserves the word "monster" to describe individuals with supernatural features/abilities... and I think the fact that Sam's definition of the term differs from Dean's is something neither brother ever fully realizes about the other, leading at several points to arguments where they are talking past each other and do not understand one another. Sam hears "monster" and thinks "Dean is talking about me", when Dean is operating under a completely different definition of the term that is based on the actions of a person.

When Sam is in a headspace where he is thinking of himself as one of those monsters, he shows increased or lessened sympathy in turns. For example, he assumes Andy's guilt in 2.05 because he is panicked about becoming evil himself and is comparing the two of them (but again—still waits for confirmation) but his sympathy for Max in 1.14 comes from the same comparison with himself. Sam completely misrepresents Amy in 7.03 as an addict who relapsed but more generally is "managing", as a way to compare her with himself... when Amy didn't feed on anyone herself and her actions have absolutely nothing to do with addiction or battling "monstrous urges".

I've been bitching and moaning a lot, but I will reemphasize that there is a more sympathetic reason that Sam shoots Emma—Sam and Dean are both crowding up to the diving board at the deep end of the pool in season 7. Dean's grieving and is drinking extremely heavily to cope and Sam is hallucinating. They are both unraveling at the seams. Neither of them is in a place where they trust the other's judgement because they both know themselves and each other to be unstable. So if we imagine a reality where Sam and Dean give Emma a chance, and it doesn't take, Sam assesses himself and Dean to be in no mental state to cope with a potential surprise attack. It's just that Sam also erroneously compares Amy and Emma when they are not the same, and by doing so, frames Dean wanting to spare Emma but killing Amy as hypocrisy (because they are both "monsters") when Dean's actions are perfectly consistent with his personal ethical code and his definition of a "monster"... and Sam's actions aren't.

[lol-jackles]

Do you have a favorite Sam Winchester storyline?

Which season do you like the least?

Sam dealing with the fallout of Dean's demon deal in season 3. We saw various state of Sam’s psyche and his slow burn spiraling sadness and desperation over Dean’s impending afterlife that is worse than death, and it showcased some of Jared’s best acting as just Sam and his raw emotions. It helps that season 3 has the most memorable episodes, from Sam’s misuse of an axe on “Mystery Spot” to learning the backstory of Dean’s amulet on “Very Supernatural Christmas” to Sam being forced to attend a ghost's birthday party to parade of memorable side characters. I think season 3 was the first time Sam was indelibly stamped into my memories: Sam’s struggles with Dean’s deal, Sam looking for ways and options to save Dean, his emotional turmoil and all the in-betweens.  Sure there was Dean’s dire hell-bound fate but because he blindly accepted his fate, the story line fell onto Sam, as it usually does. 

Season I liked the least was season 10 because they switched the protagonist role from Sam to Dean, but Supernatural wasn't designed for that and it confused the general audience with Dean as a demon and then a guy who is supposed to be influenced by a bad tattoo but he was just asshole Dean. I kept comparing season 10 with season 4&5 when the writers put Sam through the wringer. Sam hit rock bottom, crawled through glass to made amends while still having a spine and strong sense of self, and emerged a more interesting character born of fire and pain.  Season 4&5 makes sense because Supernatural is about Sam’s fight against his destiny as everybody fails around him.  SPN is built around Sam, so when they switch focus to Dean in season 10, the formula wasn't there to support his story and then Dean was the same person after season 10 so what was even the point?  Even though the season was a misfire, I still liked some standalone episodes like the 200th musical episode and "Jeeves"; my favorite scene was the brothers immediately pawning their inheritance because it's completely in line with their lifestyle.

[frazzledsoul]

I almost don't want to give the Palladinos credit here, but I half think that there was something going on offscreen with Jess around episodes 5 and 6 of Season 5 of Gilmore Girls. Episode 5 is the wretched double date episode where Luke and Dean fight, and Episode 6 is the one where Lorelai finds out that Sherry left Gigi with her worthless father and Rory seeks out Christopher and tells him to stay away from Lorelai before he screws up her life again.

I believe Jess is only mentioned in these two episodes. In the double date episode, Luke is ranting about how Dean is not good for Rory (Lorelai's response is that "their problems were mutual" and Luke "doesn't know the whole story" which is funny because those additional details would definitely not endear Luke to the guy) and Lorelai asks if she should date Jess instead (Paris AND Marty are right there, Lorelai. Just sayin').

In episode 6, Luke and Lorelai bicker over the porch light being broken and Lorelai says the last person to change it was Dean and again argues on his behalf because Jess never bothered to change the light.

At this point in the story, Rory is still dating Dean and realizing the only thing they have in common is misplaced nostalgia and is trying to corner Logan to get the lowdown on the Life and Death Brigade. Rory has her adventure with the LDB the next episode and Dean dumps her the episode after that when he sees her partying with Logan and his friends. She's in the process of moving on with her life and leaving Dean behind.

So what was going on with Jess? I figure the final rejection by Rory probably gave him the push he needed to write the book, end his mediocre "messenger" career, probably get his GED, and move to Philadelphia to start his new life (and of course, begin the Slutty Philadelphia Jess era). Obviously that doesn't happen all at once, so I figure he probably wasn't ready to move until at least the spring/fall, but things had likely begun to progress by this point and Luke probably knew he was planning to move and had mentioned it to Lorelai...who is still dubious, still pushing for Dean over Jess, still trying to rationalize Rory's affair even as the incident seems to have moved her further back into the past, not the future (and likely trying to be supportive so that Rory doesn't push her away again, because she now knows Rory can and will stop talking to her and will bring up Lorelai's own mistakes if she feels she's being too judgmental).

Meanwhile, Jess is actually moving forward offscreen instead of trying to relive his high school years. Would have been nice to see some of that.

Milo was unavailable during this time, as he was a season regular on NBC's American Dreams. They had a shortened season, but networks aren't always amenable to lending out their actors to the competition (the only other season Milo doesn't pop in as a guest star after he left the show is season 7, when he again was a regular on another NBC show). I don't think this was necessarily planned ahead of time, but the backstory works nicely for what was going on with Jess at the time.