#irving silver bullet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

huntertales · 4 years

Text

Part Three: Indecent Proposal. (Devil May Care S09E02)

Episode Summary: In the aftermath of the fall, Sam and the reader are taken by surprise when they learn Crowley is still alive–and stuffed in the trunk of the Impala. A temporary situation before the reader and the Winchesters relocate him to the Men of Letters dungeon. Kevin is anything but enthusiastic about seeing the king of hell under the same roof as him. However the three hunters want the demon close, hoping Crowley will provide useful information about others of his kind. Meanwhile, Abaddon re-emerges and plans to take over hell. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 7,825. (Oops. This got away from me lol)

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

"The hell happened here?"

The location Abaddon led all of you to was a complete ghost town; rundown buildings overtaken by weeds, the ground beneath your fear was nothing more than dirt. It must’ve been decades since it had seen any form of life. You weren’t that surprised to see the demon lured you into a deserted part of the state like this. Better for her to have you all to herself, letting you run around while she waited for you to fall into the trap she set.

You wondered what came of the town and the people who once lived here that caused it to turn into an abandoned wasteland. Rarely do you see towns and buildings nowadays to be empty like this without a good explanation behind it. She picked this place for a reason, and not just because it was the perfect spot for whatever she had planned in that head of hers.

“A local chemical plant sprung a leak years ago. They evacuated three square blocks.” Sam explained to the both of you the town’s history. You let out a slight noise from hearing that piece of information you weren’t expecting. “Guess it’s still contaminated.”

"Wait, so this whole place is still poisonous?" You found yourself asking out of caution for your own safety. Sam nodded his head to answer your question. You rolled your eyes, you should’ve figured that much. No reason why Abaddon chose this place. If she didn't kill you, the leftover pollution lingering the air eventually would if you were exposed to it long enough. "It's like our very own Chernobyl."

Dean didn’t find your words comforting. He found himself thinking of a certain place on his body where he didn’t want to be tainted from any chemicals that might still be polluting the air. You turned your head at the exact moment to see him lower his hand to shield his private area. You let out a scoff and titled your head slightly in disbelief at how he was acting.

“That’s not gonna help.” Sam warned his brother.

“It doesn’t hurt.” Dean muttered.

You rolled your eyes and lightly whacked his arm away to get the man focused on searching this entire town to find the two other hunters. Your hopefulness that they were still breathing made you disregard the possible contamination you were about to walk right into. You put your life on the line almost everyday with all sorts of threats, a little pollution never hurt anyone until the long way down the line. You kept yourself vigilant for any possible surprise attacks Abaddon and her goons had planned as you traveled deeper into the town.

You and the boys managed to cover some distance as you kept walking through empty looking buildings with windows still intact and doors most likely unlocked from the rush people must've been in to get out of here. You checked a few buildings and scoped them out to see if anyone was inside, but all the souls that seemed to be around at the moment were just the three of you. You continued to follow behind the boys as you looked around the place, cautiously eyeing the edges of buildings and looking behind your shoulder for any possible demon trying to make a sneak attack. It seemed that you were still alone. However you found yourself stopping in your tracks when you heard a noise, it sounded like shuffling in a building not too far from where the three of you stood.

You followed behind the boys as Sam drew out his gun for any possible attackers when he approached the diner to inspect inside. The younger man kicked down the door with one swift kick and stepped inside, he took one look around the place to see there was no active threat around. The only people that were inside were the two hunters Abaddon had kidnapped. Sam lowered his weapon and called for you and Dean's attention from what he found. You made your way into the place to see the sight for yourself. While you were happy to see the Irv and Tracy were unharmed, you couldn't take anything for face value, You quietly shut the door behind you before taking one glance around the outside to make sure the coast was still clear from anyone besides the five of you.

"Irv? Hey." Dean pulled off the gag from the older hunter's mouth to give the man a chance to talk freely from the question he asked a few seconds later. "Where's Abaddon?"

"Abaddon's been torturing hunters." Irv said. "She's been trying to get intel on you kids."

"Do you know why?" Sam asked.

"I seriously doubt she wants to add you to her Christmas card. Now," Irv veered the conversation to something more important other than trying to figure out the demon's motives for why she was doing all of this. "Do you wanna make it with the rescue or what?"

"Right after you take a shot of holy water, huh?"

You wanted to believe that Abaddon just kidnapped the two and left it at that, but you knew from personal experience that things like her never made things easy. You pulled out the flask of holy water from your back pocket and twisted off the cap, you tugged off the cloth from Tracy's mouth and poured the liquid into her mouth. You watched as she swallowed without a problem and gave you an annoyed glare from the dramatics. She looked young, probably no more than someone in her early twenties at most. She must’ve been new to the game.

“Happy?” She asked you.

“Sorry about that.” You apologized for the cautious steps you had to take around them. Tracy’s glare seemed to harden when she heard the sarcastic tone lined in your voice. “Gotta be safe than sorry.”

"Don't worry about it." Irv said. At least the older hunter understood you couldn’t let them free without running a quick test to make sure they were still human without running around in their skin, waiting to jump up and rip your guts out. "Last thing you need is us popping black eyes."

Dean took it upon himself to free the hunters from the chairs they were tied to after he took out a pocket knife and cut them free. You crossed your arms over your chest and watched as they stretched their aching muscles from sitting in the same position for so long. Sam decided it would have been the perfect time to introduce himself to the younger woman.

"You're Tracy, right? I'm Sam Winchester." He said. When you noticed Tracy’s gaze had wandered over to you after Sam shifted his finger over to you, you forced yourself to give the woman a half smile and a wave before tucking your arm back where it was before. “And that’s Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Good for you.” Tracy responded with a lackluster tone, as if that name was supposed to mean anything to her. Your expression shifted slightly from the attitude she was giving the both of you, suddenly looking as if you were boring her with your mere presence.

“She’s new. We did a shifter job back in Sacramento together." Irv explained how he knew the younger woman. “Smart, but got a mouth on her."

“Sam and I know a little something about that.” Dean’s said. You rolled your eyes when you noticed his eyes wandered over to you to drive his point home. “Now that introductions are out of the way, let’s gear up.”

You got to work with unloading all the supplies you had brought with you to take down Abaddon and her demons. Ruby’s special knife was your favorite weapon to use against a demon. While it might not be able to kill a knight of hell, something you learned from the first encounter you had with Abaddon, it worked well on others you had come in contact with without a problem. Angel blades were also useful and trusty to have on hand. You had enough ammunition to take down dozens of demons with the special carvings you had made. Might not be able to kill them, but they locked those suckers in place so you could take them down once and for all.

You threw back a canister of spray paint when Dean took out another gun and set it down on the countertop with the rest of the weapons you had lined up. It appeared to you that you had just about everything you needed to take down the knight of hell once and for all.

“All right, we got Jesus juice, guns loaded with devil’s trap bullets. Shoot a demon, put him on lockdown.” Dean listed off a few of the weapons Tracy and Irv were free to pick from to arm themselves for the fight ahead. He picked up a silver blade to swiftly flip the weapon in his hand with ease. “The angel blade works.”

You found your concentration breaking away from the conversation when you heard something in the near distance catch your attention. You turned around in your spot and looked over to the window as Sam jumped up from the table he was sitting on top of and peered outside to see if he could see who caused the noise. The younger Winchester’s expression fell when he caught sight of two demons possessing those soldiers making their way to where you were.

“They’re coming.” Sam announced.

“Good.” Dean said, seeming ready for the fight ahead.

You made your way over to the window and pushed down a few of the blinds to get a better look for yourself. You spotted the same demons Sam had pointed out just a few seconds prior, but he failed to mention they hadn’t come here empty handed. It seemed Abaddon had chosen those soldiers for a reason. You looked over your shoulder to break the news that made things slightly more complicated for all of you. “They’ve got assault rifles, Dean.”

“Okay, less good.” The older Winchester noted.

You were pretty sure the whole “don’t bring a knife to a gunfight applied to this situation a little too perfectly. You stepped away from the window and made your way back over to the counter in some kind of attempt to figure out how to get out of here. Luckily the demons didn’t know just yet where you were, they probably knew you were here from the parked Impala on the outskirts of the town. Irv wondered how you and the boys were going to get yourselves out of this one. You’ve been in a situation like this enough times to know that you couldn't risk the chance of sneaking out the back without arousing suspicion. You needed something to distract the demons to give you enough time to bolt. And what a better way to give the illusion that you were stupid enough to go up against them.

All of you packed up your things after arming up with weapons to protect yourselves in the case those demons weren't alone. You anxiously waited behind with the others while Dean was still back at the diner, setting up your phone after you got the brilliant idea to lure the demons into a trap with a recording of the older Winchester's voice on loop calling out the monsters, luring them to an empty diner, all of you long gone. You let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Dean making his way back to the four of you after setting up the phone like you told him to do.

“All right. We got to flank seal team douche in there, so, Irv, you and me will go left.” Dean said, coming up with a plan for a way to get out of here alive. “The rest of you go right."

You nodded your head at the instructions without much thought and looked over at Sam, both of you ready to start moving. You took a few steps over to Tracy and without much thought placed a hand on her shoulder to get her moving, however it seemed that was the worst thing you could have done. Suddenly you felt yourself stumbling backwards after Tracy turned around and shoved you off of her, hissing at you to get away from her. You were stunned at what just happened, Sam was even taken back himself when she threw daggers at the man when he tried to go even near her. Tracy had given you attitude before, you thought it was because she was pissed off at the fact she was roped into your problems. But she was staring at you like you were the kind of monster that had gotten her into this situation.

“Okay, that’s it.” You couldn’t take it anymore. You found yourself snapping back at the younger woman with an abundance of frustration from how she had been treating you since you met her. There was no reason for the attitude. Tracy responded by continuing to stare at you with the same disgusted glare. “Look, kid, I am not in the mood.”

“Whoa.” The older Winchester was quick to notice the sudden shift in mood from the reaction Tracy got out of you. He observed the three of you slowly to try and figure out what happened to have caused this. “What’s the problem?”

“My family’s dead because of them.” Tracy's reason took you and Sam both by surprise. Your hardening glare slowly began to change at her confession, the younger Winchester was left wondering for the few seconds of silence that fell between the woman’s confession to figure out how that could have possibly been his fault. Both of you had done some pretty terrible things in the past. There was no denying that. But to have murdered someone in cold blood? You swore you never went that far. And you didn’t. Just the mistake you had made of freeing Lucifer came with more consequences than you realized. “I watched a demon slaughter my parents, and the whole time, it talked about how it was celebrating. How a couple of dumb kids let Lucifer out of his cage.”

You pressed your lips together and moved your gaze somewhere other than Tracy. Sam couldn't help himself when he stared at the younger woman with a guilty expression at the actions he knew were all of his fault. He was the reason why Lucifer was freed from the cage. He was the reason why her parents were slaughtered. He wanted to apologize for the pain he caused her, but right now wasn't the time to do so. Dean was quick to switch things up, deciding to have Tracy go with him and let Irv tag along instead. You swallowed down your own heavy conscience in favor of getting Tracy and Irv out of here. Sam remained where he was for a few seconds while his brother and Tracy went off. You placed a hand on the man's shoulder and gave a slight squeeze, nodding your head for him to get moving.

The three of you went on your journey of heading into the right side of town like Dean told you to do so. Most of the journey was in complete silence, you following behind Sam as Irv chose to linger behind the line that formed. Sam had the demon knife in his head at the ready while your loaded gun remained tucked in the waistband of your jeans. You didn't know why, but you found the confession Tracy made lingering in the back of your mind. From the way she looked at you. How she told you both that you were the reason why her parents were dead. You carried the burden around what happened back at that church on your shoulders every single day. If you could change the past, you would in a heartbeat. You even tried to fix your mistakes...but all that came of it was more mistakes on your part.

"Kids, you copacetic?" Irv's question broke the silence between all of you. Sam nodded his head as you did the same a few moments later. You stopped behind a building and looked over at the older hunter, wondering to yourself why he wanted to know such a thing. “Good. Now hand me that toothpick and you two get Dean and Tracy—you beat feet out of here.”

“What?” Sam sounded nothing more than confused as to what the man was suggesting. It sounded like a suicide mission, because it was. There was no way in hell you were letting Irv in there by himself with all those demons with one knife and no backup to help.

“I’m going in there alone.” Irv said. “I’ll buy you two as much time as I can.”

“Irv, that’s death.” Sam told the hunter.

“Yeah, well, it’s what I got coming. It’s my fault, Sam.” Irv’s confession wasn't what you were expecting to come out of the man's mouth. You looked at him a little funny from what he was implying, wondering how that could be such a thing. There was more to the story that the hunter withheld from you until now. "I was in some dive and I was sloppy and lonely and I met some girl, and the next thing you know, I'm strapped to some bed and she's twisting things that ain't supposed to be twisted.”

“‘She’ who?” You questioned the man.

“Abaddon.” The name that fell out of the hunter’s mouth made you sink your shoulders down in disappointment. Sam took the news the same as you. Irv was distraught with the things he had done against his own will, but there was only so much a man could take before breaking. “I gave ‘em up. Pete, Tracy—I gave ‘em all up. So you hand me that blade and let me do what I got to do, or so help me—”

Before the man could finish the argument to get what was coming to him and die with some dignity after the wrongs he had made, it seemed death came to him sooner than he was anticipating. You felt a sudden gasp of surprise escape from your mouth at what happened in the matter of seconds. You didn't realize Irv had been shot until you saw him lying on the ground with a bleeding wound in his chest. Sam quickly grabbed a hold of your arm and yanked you closer to him when he figured out what was going on. You felt your back collide with the brick wall as another shot went off. The demon who was trying to take you down must’ve been a sharp shooter. You and Sam quickly drew out your own guns, knowing a simple knife shared between the both of you wasn’t gonna cut it.

Sam slowly inched himself closer to the edge of the wall and peered out with his weapon to see where the demon was. He managed to spot him sitting on a rooftop straight ahead, he took his chance by firing off a few rounds until he managed to hit a bullseye into the scope. When Sam tried to aim for the demon next, that’s when you made a run for it, Sam following behind right after you. You ran for cover in the nearest building that you found and pushed the door open with your body, not even bothering to think there might be someone inside waiting for you. You didn't come into that thought until you saw someone pressing their shoe against your wrist that was holding your gun. You looked up to see the barrel of a gun staring back down at you and the smile of a demon to greet you.

“Boo.” The demon taunted you.

+ + +

Dean couldn’t help himself when he thought back to what Tracy had said about her parents. The situation of freeing Lucifer came with a ripple effect that felt like it was never going to end. When all of you thought the dust had settled and things could go back to somewhat normal, there was always a small wave to come creeping back up. Tracy had every right to be pissed off at what happened to her parents. Hunters got into this lifestyle without much of a choice, almost always it was because of some sort of tragedy that dragged them into this lifestyle. You and the boys knew the story. It was your lives that lead you to this point. The reason you made the choices you did.

You and Sam made mistakes with terrible consequences. There was no denying that factor. But so did Dean. Irv most likely would confess that he had nightmares from his past choices that kept him up at night. Everyone does. He was sure Tracy would make some along the way. In the moment, before everything falls apart, you feel like it was the right thing to do. You don’t realize how wrong you are until you’re faced with the mistakes of your actions that you can’t go back from.

“Okay, I think they’re still inside. We wait till they come out, and we pick them off one by one.” Dean gave the layout of his plan while him and Tracy slowly made their way closer to the edge of a gafettied up wall. She listened without much as a peep. He adjusted his grip around the knife and looked over at her for a second. "Listen, for the record, Sam and Y/N weren't the only ones who thought they were doing right and watched it all go to crap. Okay? That's just part of being—"

“Being a hunter.” Tracy cut off the man, finishing his sentence with the moral lesson she thought he was trying to make.

“Being human.” Dean corrected the woman. “Look, you want to be pissed off at them, that’s fine. I get it. But if you want to go after somebody, you make sure they got black eyes. Got to know who the real monsters are in this world, kid.”

Dean nodded his head for Tracy to start moving when he thought it was the perfect time to start heading to the spot he located. He cautiously made his way forward with his gun pointed forward and figured just centimeters from the trigger, ready to take down any demon that tried to get the jump on him. However the hunter was stupid enough to overlook the small alleyway that was just big enough to have someone hiding in there. Dean found himself being taken by surprise when he felt someone take a swing at him, sending him straight to the ground. Tracy was fast enough to act without a second thought. She fired off several rounds into the demon that now stood in front of her, thinking it would have been enough to take her down. However this demon had seen this sort of trick before, and learned some herself.

Tracy lowered her gun when she realized the five rounds that she shot off had done nothing to the redhead. Instead all she got as a reaction was a smile. Abaddon lifted up her shirt to reveal the bullet proof vest she was wearing. The hunter was stupid enough to waste all her bullets on a chest shot, why she didn’t go for the head was a rookie mistake she would pay for in mere seconds when Abaddon went over there and ripped her throat out.

“Nice grouping. Kevlar. Beats magic bullets.” She said. “I love the future.”

Dean had some tricks up his sleeve to make the demon back off enough for a chance to get Tracy out of here and get some extra weapons. He twisted off the cap to a flask of holy water and splashed it in Abaddon’s face, happy to know that at least something worked on her. She stumbled backwards as her face burned from the liquid. Dean took his chance to get back up to his feet and make his way over to Tracy. He shoved his car keys into the palm of her hands.

“Listen, my car is three blocks over. Go get more bullets, more holy water—get everything.” He instructed her. Tracy couldn’t help but worry about the man from the danger that he was putting himself in if she left him. “Just go! Go! Now!”

Abaddon felt the burning sensation on her skin slowly subside as she watched Tracy listen to the man, running off and going for more supplies would be rendered useless. The demon grew a toothy smile when she saw Dean turn around and face her, ready to let the real fun begin. She adjusted her red hair and tossed back a loose curl from her face. The demon had been waiting for a very long time to finally see the older Winchester’s handsome face.

“Alone at last.” She said.

Dean responded by taking out an angel blade from the inside of his jacket, something Abaddon wondered to herself how he managed to get hold of such an odd weapon. She smiled at the flimsy little tool that he thought was going to take someone as powerful as her. She watched as he attempted to take a stab at her, but the demon managed to block the shot with ease. Abbadon roughly disarmed him as she bent his arm behind his back, pulling him uncomfortably close to her body with his back pressed against her chest. She made the situation worse by hovering her lips over his ear.

“I missed you. Did you miss me?” She whispered to him. Dean wasn’t given a chance to give a snarky response from the way Abaddon was bending his arm to the point where all it would take was one wrong move and she’d snap it. She pushed him forward and down to his knees, his one arm still painfully in her grasp as the other was wrapped around her wrist. There was no way Dean was going to get out of this one, at least, not without Abaddon's permission. "So appreciate Y/N and you boys coming when I call. I think that's what I like most about you Winchesters.” The demon used her free hand to run her hand through Dean’s hair, enjoying the sight of such a handsome face. She smiled when he felt his body stiffen under her touch. She grabbed a fistful of the short locks, forcing his neck back slightly. “You’re so obedient. And suicidally stupid. I like that, too.”

“Are we gonna fight or make out?” Dean asked the demon, wondering where all of this talking was going to lead them. “Cause I’m getting some real mixed signals here.”

“I want Crowley—or what’s left of him.” Abaddon said, giving her reasons to the hunter.

“Yeah?” Dean wondered if that’s all it really was. He flinched when she tugged on his hair, forcing him to look up at her with a tilted neck. “What’s in it for me?”

“I let you die.” Abaddon said. The demon thought her persuasive offer would be something Dean would be very much interested in than deal with the consequences if he didn’t cooperate. “You give me Crowley’s head, and I will snap your neck quick and clean.”

“And if I tell you to get bent?” Dean asked.

“Well…” The demon’s gaze fell away from Dean’s face and to his body, her lips stretched farther into a smile at the sight of a familiar tattoo on his chest. An idea crossed the woman’s mind that seemed like a perfect act of revenge against the man if he didn’t do what she said. “You know, I’ve loved this body since the moment I first saw it.”

Dean grabbed the demon’s wrist when he felt her grab a fistful of his jacket and shirt, bunching up the fabric as she yanked it aside to reveal the one thing stopping her from using his body like a puppet. She smiled at his attempts at fighting back. The man was no match against her. “You’re the perfect vessel, Dean. You give a girl all sorts of nasty ideas. Y/N is a very lucky woman, being able to enjoy this body all to herself.” Abbadon eyed him up like a piece of meat she was ready to devour. “So go ahead, and play hard to get, and I’ll peel off this ‘No demons allowed’ tattoo and blow smoke up your ass.”

“Oh...well, I got to tell you, between you and me, it’s a horror show up there.” Dean warned the demon if she chose to be stupid enough to try and ride around in his skin. The demon merely chuckled at the man’s silly little thoughts that were nothing more than foreplay compared to what she could cook up in a mere afternoon.

“It can get worse. Trust me. Have you ever felt the pure joy of ripping a fetus straight out of a mother's womb? I was gonna do that to your little girlfriend when I went to the church. Just like how I did to Henry. Remember that? Of course you do. Maybe I’ll make you do it. I’ll use your body any way I please.” Abaddon chuckled darkly when she saw the look that crossed Dean’s face from her own threat. It was so easy to get humans riled up when you went straight for the people they loved. “Let me ask you, Dean. Have you ever felt the blood of an infant drip down your chin? Or listen to a girl scream as you rip her guts out?”

Abaddon forcefully grabbed the man by his face, digging the nail of her index finger into his skin as her thumb rested against his chin. “Because you will.” The demon promised him the torture ahead for him. “You and me lover, and we’ll have a grand old time. Because if there’s anything I can keep, it’s a promise. And I promise I’m gonna kill everyone you love with your own bare hands.”

+ + +

There was only so much two hunters could do when they were up against three demons. A fight like this wouldn't have been a problem if you were on your feet and gave Sam a proper warning to take them down when he had the chance. All you could do was regret your slow response as you were dragged back up to your feet by the demon who was crushing your hand with his boot. You tried to put up a proper fight, you really did. But there were only so many times you could handle your head being smashed against the wall before your vision grew blurry. After the demon was done with you for the meantime, he tossed your body across the room like you were a rag doll. A set of chairs broke your fall after you hit the table and went sliding to the ground.

Sam was struggling to hold his own after he was somehow overpowered by the two demons that chose to pick a fight with him as you went up against the other. If given a proper chance, he could have taken them both down, but he realized that the fight was rigged not in his favor when he heard the sound of crashing. And it wasn't the demon you were going up against when someone decided to join in. Things were starting to look grim as the younger Winchester kept on trying to take them down. If he could find the knife after he dropped it, maybe he could take one or two down before going after the other. One of them demons roughly threw him across the counter and watched as he fell to the floor like a ton of bricks, laughing at how easy this was going to be.

In the moment all Sam could think about was trying to survive and use the knife that he lost on the three demons and not let them use it on him. He didn't realize that you were back up on your feet after being knocked out cold. It seemed your awakening caused the demons' attention to shift away from the younger Winchester. They were soon going to realize who they were staring at wasn't you, but something else. Sam didn't forget there was someone else hitching a ride in your skin. A silent passenger who was healing your internal wounds and organs back to normal. The angel hadn't made a peep or broken his problems about doing what needed to be done. But it seemed that Ezekial had come out just in time, as if he knew the both of you needed a lending hand.

Sam quickly lowered himself to the ground when he saw your eyes starting to glow a bright blue, as if the angel was warning him for what was about to be done. He heard a warning about covering his eyes before the room was lit into a blinding white light. The ground beneath his feet began to violently shake from whatever the angel was doing. Whatever he had done, it stopped quickly as it started. When Sam noticed the ringing in his ears stopped and his vision grew black, he noticed things had calmed down. He outstretched his hand and placed it on the counter, using it to push himself up to his feet to inspect the damage Ezekiel had inflicted.

The younger Winchester looked to see that Ezekiel was standing over the dead body of the demon who was ready to kill him with the same knife the angel was using to slit the monster’s throat. Sam wondered why Ezekie was doing that when the demon was already dead. But then he realized, the angel was covering his tracks. He was making it look like one of you had done this. Sam made his way from behind the counter and watched as Ezekiel continued to work on the last body, finishing up right as his brother rushed in to see what the commotion was all about after witnessing only a glimpse from the outside.

"Thanks for the heads up." Sam spoke up, his tone of voice made him sound the least bit thankful for the rescue. And he wasn’t. He still wasn't sure how he felt the angel possessing you. You were tricked into having another partner walking in your skin, healing you up. He knew now was not the time to strike up the argument about his disagreement with the plan.

"They were going to kill you and Y/N." The angel must have felt Sam's lingering stare, the frustration from the unexpected jump in appearance after being quiet for the past few days. Ezekiel turned his head to give the man a blank, almost unreadable expression.

"Ezekiel?" Dean sounded surprised to see the angel was the one who was still out and about, cleaning up the mess that he had made so it wouldn't cause any suspicion for when you woke up. The older Winchester turned his head to see that his brother was okay. A little pissed off, but same from harm. "The hell did you do?"

"We had it under control." Sam said.

"If I didn't intervene when I did, you would be dead right. And so would Y/N. I was protecting your friend." Ezekial said. Sam knew the angel was right about that. But he wouldn’t admit to it. The silence that followed told the angel he wasn't going to be thanked for the rescue. He didn't understand the younger man's hostility towards him, he was merely doing what was promised. "I thought that was what the both of you wanted."

"Right, yeah, no." Dean mumbled out a response to the angel, his mind racing too fast for him to comprehend the situation he was in right now. For a split second he thought he was still talking to you. It looked like you, sounded like you. But the person standing in front of him was an angel who promised to help. Ezekiel hadn't made such a peep since he hitched a ride in your body a few days ago. Seeing him out and about took Dean a moment to comprehend. "I-I...sorry, I'm just still getting used to this whole thing."

“As am I.” The angel agreed with the complexity of the situation.

"Is she gonna be okay, at least?" Sam asked the angel in a concerned tone of voice. if anything, your well being was the one thing he cared most about. "Y/N. Is she gonna be okay?"

"She was knocked unconscious. In a way, she still is." Ezekiel said. "Y/N will not remember any of this."

"So what the hell am I supposed to tell her when she comes to?" Dean questioned the angel.

Dean was no stranger to a situation like this; two souls sharing a body with one not knowing the other was there. It happened too many times with you. The memory loss, the questions. He didn't want to deal with the complications like he had to when you were still a half demon. When you found out about that, the fall out caused damage in a monsterous way. But this...this was worse than any of that somehow. Not only would he lose your trust you would most likely never forgive him. Maybe you would never be able to look at him in the eye. And when you did, all you could think of was that he was a selfish man. Choosing your life over another. "Selfish little bastard. That's what you are. You should've let me die...you should've let me be at peace."

"That's why I used the knife." Ezekiel's voice broke the man out of his personal thoughts. Dean looked down to see the demon knife in the angel's outstretched hand.

"Right." Dean muttered, grabbing the knife by the handle and dropped his arm back down to his side. "Smart."

Ezekial noticed the shift in Dean's voice first before his expression began to change. Despite talking to him, Dean couldn't look at him directly in the eye for very long. He slowly turned around so his back was facing him. Dean must have felt as if he wasn't speaking to an angel, but you. He was lying to your face without having talked to you directly. "You are troubled, still."

"Yeah, it's that, uh...this is on me. I was the one who talked Y/N out of boarding up Hell. Okay? And I know what would've happened if I let her. All of this is my fault. I should've been there. It should've been me who did those trials. Not her. Not Sammy." Dean admitted his guilt for the entire situation that affected them here. He looked over at his brother, as if he was silently wanting to let him know not to carry this burden. All of this fell on his shoulders. If he had been quicker, if he said no to Cas maybe all of this would have turned out differently. But it didn't. "So every demon deal, every kill they make...well, you're looking at the person who let it happen."

“Dean, come on.” Sam suddenly spoke up after hearing the nonsense that was coming out of his brother's mouth. “It’s not your fault.”

"You were protecting Y/N. I am in her head. Everything she knows, I know. And I know what you did, you did out of love." Ezekiel said. The words weren't reassuring enough to help ease the older Winchester's worried mind. "You two are soulmates, correct? Dean slowly nodded his head, wondering why it suddenly mattered. The angel's lips stretched into a smile. "It's a love not many humans will experience in their lifetime. But it doesn't always show in romantic forms. I believe it can be palontic as well. The three of you have a strong bond. Unbreakable. She can feel it."

"Yeah, uh, look, Zeke—and I'm gonna call you Zeke—we're not really with the whole love, and...love." Dean was starting to feel a little awkward from how this conversation was shifting into sharing their feelings. He did it for almost no one. He barely let his brother in sometimes. The only person who could see him at worst, the most vulnerable was you. He always had a soft spot for you. He was the only one who told you that he loved you. Three little words with such heavy meaning. And yet they felt too hard to say these days when the both of you needed to hear it the most.

"But it is why I said yes." Ezekiel said.

"Yeah, and if that goes sideways, that's on me, too." Dean said, shifting the blame on himself for a situation that hasn’t even arisen yet.

"That's not going to happen." The angel reassured them both.

Ezekiel's kind words didn't help the older Winchester's racing mind. Dean let out a chuckle from the situation he was in. "This is nuts. I mean, you're Y/N, but you're not Y/N, and normally she's the one I'm talking to about all this stuff. You think I would be used to talking to someone else in her skin." Dean muttered the last remark to himself, his lips stretching into a weak smile at how this situation was spiraling. "Sam and I are trusting you, Zeke. I just gotta hope you're one of the good guys."

"I am." Ezekiel promised both of the Winchesters that he wasn't like his siblings. However the angel was quick to realize how the human mind worked. Sometimes a worded promise didn't come with reassurance that they meant what they spoke. They were complicated creatures, their words were flimsy. They could mean so much to a person, and yet so little. "But I suppose that is what a bad guy would say. Sam and Dean Winchester, you are doing the right thing.”

The brothers slowly looked away from the angel, finding their gaze reached to each other. Ezekiel’s words were full of reassurance and hopefulness that everything was going to be okay in the end of all of this. Much as things seemed like it could be, but nothing was going to make the guilt that came as a heavy weight on their chest loosen up even the slightest. If anything, the words made it feel worse. Both of them stared at one another with the same defeated, almost pained expression. If this was the right thing, the only good thing they could have done to save you...then why did it feel so wrong?

+ + +

You didn’t come back around right away. The boys kept themselves busy while your body remained where it was on the floor, making it appear as if things were left as you last remembered them. Dean dropped the last of the supplies into the duffel bag as you slowly made it back into consciousness. You weren’t sure what was going on right away, feeling the coldness against your bruised cheek made you piece together that you were on the floor. How you got here was still a blur. You shifted around slightly as you tried to sit up, but the sudden jolt of pain reminded you that you weren’t willingly put here. A demon had thrown you across the room...

The sound of someone speaking your name made you jump slightly in the noise you weren’t expecting, your mind tricking you into thinking it was a demon trying to go another round with you. When you looked up to see that it was just the boys, Dean holding the bloody knife that you remembered his brother lost in the fight you had gotten into, you were confused as to what was going on. You looked around the diner from where you were to see that it was just the three of you.

“Guys?” You winced as you slowly pushed yourself up into a sitting position, wiping your hands clean from the dirt you accidentally touched. You noticed the bodies of the demons you had tried going up against, now lying on the ground dead. You furrowed your brow slightly in confusion and looked up at the brothers. “What the hell happened?”

“You took a shot to the head, Sammy was pinned up against three demons. I came in and saved your asses, like usual.” Dean gave you a recap on what you missed out on.

“You killed three demons?” You asked him. “Alone?”

“I took them by surprise while Sam distracted them.” Dean slapped a hand on his brother’s back and cracked a smile at the fake story he was making up on the spot. To you, it sounded like the truth. He slipped the clean knife back into the inside pocket for safe keeping. “Got a little messy. I got a little lucky. Oh, and uh…” He outstretched for you to take and pulled you back up to your feet like you weighed nothing. “I’m awesome, so there’s that.”

“Geez. Yeah. You are pretty damn awesome. Nice work.” Your eyes wandered around the three dead bodies that were led to believe were killed by Dean. A smirk spread across your lips as you looked over at the younger Winchester. “You did good, too, Sasquatch.”

Sam couldn't help himself but smile at hearing the nickname for the first time in what felt like forever. The conversation was monentaly paused when you heard what sounded like the Impala's engine coming your way. You and the boys headed out to see Tracy was coming your way, she parked the car out front and got out to greet all of you. You felt a little easier knowing she was at least safe from the harm.

“Hey. You okay?” You asked her, expecting a snarky response in return.

“Yeah.” She said. “What about you two?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “More or less, yeah.”

“Good.” Tracy took you by surprise when she sounded rather happy to hear. She must've noticed your slightly skeptical look at her change in behavior. She tossed the keys to Dean and made her way to the backseat. "I got everything. But guess I'm late to the party."

“Lucky you. Let’s blow this toxic waste dump.” Dean said. All of you took your respectful places and got comfortable for the long drive ahead of you. "Burgers and silkwood showers on me."

You smiled at the thought of eating something and washing away the possible containimentation you were subjected to. You might not have been able to take down Abaddon easily as how you wanted, and not to mention how Irv was killed. But you had to take your wins where you got them. You and the boys made it out in one piece, ready to see another day.

[Next Part]

Rewrite Taglist:

@deansquirreljerkwinchester // @everything-i-tried-was-taken // @starswirlblitz // @supernaturalismydrug // @we-are-band-sexuals // @angiewinchestercas // @kaylinfayezink // @owhatshername1 // @kgbrenner // @cleo-is-my-doggy // @eeyore1988 // @dakota-dream // @lilylovelyxo // @timetravelingginger // @holahellohialoha // @quicksilver123456 // @natashacamillas //@lexi-anastasia //@kaylinfayezink // @deanwnchstr @albot-eh // @rashinyx2002 // @shellybeans // @icantfindacreativeurl // @becs-bunker // @oreosatmidnight // @bands-and-shietz // @fabulousmustachesonapolarbear // @clarewinchester // @releasethekracko // @alex-zeppelin // @mega-mrs-dean-winchester // @theskytraveler // @notmoose94 //@assassinofmasyaf // @caswinchester2000 // @savannah-m-99 // @sunlight-dean // @strayrosesbloom // @that-slytherin-over-there // @1000roughdrafts // @its-medeanwinchester // @simplyhemmings

Message me if you would like to be added!

15 notes · View notes

intoxicatingimmediacy · 6 years

Photo

For Suzan-Lori Parks, White Noise Underscores Black Anxiety

[...] Diggs leads the way with an emotionally exposed performance. We feel his exhaustion and understand his desire to find a safe harbor, even if it's one from which he cannot depart. Winters brings palpable sincerity to Dawn, the aggressive ally. Sadoski gives emotional roundness to Ralph, a character that travels the flat terrain between whiny trust-funder and unapologetic sadist. Irving is a master of code-switch as Misha, a woman whose lesbian college-professor moms are mystified by her livestream show, "Ask a Black." Dialing up her Ebonics for the camera, Misha answers her callers' questions about blackness, leading to some of the funniest moments in the play. Each of the actors gets an extended monologue (called a "solo" in the program), and they use it to capture our imaginations with Parks's trenchant observations.

[...] Parks has a lot to say about the corrosive nature of slavery, the sexual allure of the taboo, and the limitations of consent (which is not the silver bullet of sex and freedom it is purported to be). While the sexual plot twists sometimes make White Noise feel like a highbrow soap opera, it also feels like a microcosm of American society: Resentment simmers among Leo, Dawn, Ralph, and Misha from the outset, but they stick together as friends and lovers nonetheless. White Noise asks what it takes to transform their passive-aggression into plain old aggression, and how long they can live with that aggression before their bonds of friendship break and everything falls apart.

#daveed diggs #suzan lori parks #white noise #heavily edited for sp*ilers

1 note · View note

rewatching-supernatural · 4 years

Text

s09e20

This is the start of an episode of, like, Suits

it doesn't look like Supernatural

He's called Mr Ross too!

It's also the pilot of the spin off they wanted to do

*****

a secret bar for monsters, uh

that's cool, it would be ridiculous to think monsters wouldn't have their own secret societies

*****

Werewolf v Shapeshifter

question is, why?

*****

and now, what, Wolverine?

*****

collateral damage 😭

*****

Okay so this is a shifter coming in to steal shit

*****

This guy knows what he saw, where's Sam and Dean when we need them?

...

oh, here they are

*****

So a bunch of monster families are fighting

*****

Ross is finding all his dad's stock

silver bullets, marked bullets, lockpicks, ...

*****

ah yes, a vampire

and Sam and Dean!

missed them

*****

Monster cops 😂

*****

Ennis, his name is Ennis Ross

missed that earlier

*****

He's not an idiot tho, he checked on the camera, and now, he's getting his silver bullets gun

*****

Shapeshifters don't shift quickly like that usually...they also shed skin

I'm not a fan of them having 'super monsters', I much preferred when they established lore and then stuck to it

*****

So Chicago is divided in five monster families:

1. Shapeshifters

2. Vampires

3. Werewolves

4. Djinn

5. Whatever has silver claws??

*****

Some family drama and this David and Viilet have a past, she chose not to go with him

*****

David: A werewolf.

Ennis: Awesome! (affectionate)

Dean: Awesome. (derogatory)

*****

Is that Irv?! yep, it's Irv!

*****

There it is again

What's the line between person and monster

*****

Cas found a way to Metatron, so they've gotta leave

This is Ennis Ross' backstory

and his quest, to rid Chicago of monsters and find his dad

#s09e20 #spn s09e20 #spn #spn rewatch #supernatural #supernatural rewatch #spn season 9 #season 9 #march 6 #bloodlines #chicago #monster families #david #violet #ennis ross #irv

0 notes

alvdaz · 7 years

Text

L’Empire contre-attaque

Le retour du billet prospectif sur ce marché sympa qu’est la chaussure de sport utilisée dans la vie quotidienne.

2018 va être intense, je vous le prédis mes ami(e)s.

Pour replacer le contexte, Adidas a repris du poil de la bête depuis la création de l’Ultra Boost et des gammes NMD et EQT.

Le force de la marque, outre la tech Boost (brevet de BASF, ne l’oublions pas), c’est d’avoir su puiser dans son passé pour sortir des nouveaux modèles quand Nike se contentait de rééditer ses modèles OG ou d’en faire des variations en choisissant des matériaux plus légers ou confortables (voir les modèles déclinés en “Ultra” par exemple).

Le game en était là avec un Nike moribond qui réussissait des coups d’éclat épisodiquement en sortant des modèles iconiques de la cave. 2017 marquait les 20 ans de la Air Max 97 donc on en a bouffé pendant 12 mois avec une ultime réédition du mythique modèle original (OG), la Silver Bullet en décembre dernier :

(Non pas que ça me dérange, hein, j’adore l’AM97)

A côté, Nike a parfois tenté des trucs inédits comme la Vapormax, des mariages de génie comme celui de la Air Jordan 1 avec le Flyknit :

Mais aussi des semi-échecs malgré de nouvelles silhouettes comme avec la Lunarcharge, et ceci en dépit d’un forçage de première catégorie pour tenter de l’associer à la vénérable Air Max 90 :

Spoiler : ça n’a pas marché puisque hormis la couleur et les oeillets de lacets, il n’y a RIEN de commun entre une Lunarcharge et une Air Max 90.

Côté Adidas, la gamme EQT se charge de puiser dans les archives de la marque (et puiser dans l’héritage des 90s d’Adidas, c’est osé parce qu’à l’époque le design est-allemand faisait encore rage) tandis que la marque tient le premium avec l’Ultra Boost et la gamme NMD tout en s’autorisant des trucs expérimentaux même en general release (GR) (et donc pas uniquement sur des petites séries expérimentales vendues chez Colette, hein), la Kamanda en est un bel exemple :

Mais ça c’est fini !

En 2018 Nike a bien compris le truc et se met à changer de vision. Par exemple en sortant la Air Max 270 adossée aux modèles dont elle est l’héritière comme la Air Max 180 ou la Air Max 93. Et c’est pas une image de ma part quand je dis “adossée”, hein, c’est vraiment éloquent quand on va sur le site de Nike :

(de gauche à droite: AM 180, AM 93 et AM 270)

A la différence de la Lunarcharge, la Air Max 270 a VRAIMENT un ADN commun avec les 2 classiques.

Mais surtout, Nike rebondit (décidément) en alignant une nouvelle technologie pour renforcer sa gamme qui il faut le reconnaître repose intégralement sur le système Air, le succès des semelles Zoom Air et du Lunarlon pouvant être qualifié de “pas top” en dépit de quelques sorties très cool (dédicace à vous, les Flyknit Chukka)

Arrive donc le… REACT ! Une semelle sans système d’amorti apparent, pusique TOUTE la semelle est l’amorti, exactement comme… Le Boost, tiens.

Recette identique, une semelle blanche unie avec un pattern reconnaissable porté par un modèle running ultra épuré, Nike ayant compris que ce qui marche mondialement ce sont des modèles bien simples et bien finis.

Arrive donc la Nike Epic React avec une tige en Flyknit, modèle orienté running/performance mais qui va tout tabasser quand il arrivera dans la street (comme l’Ultra Boost, donc) :

Perso j’aime bien.

Adidas pendant ce temps poursuit son bonhomme de chemin et début février la gamme EQT s’enrichit de deux nouveaux modèles:

L’EQT Support Mid :

Pour le coup le rattachement à l’ancienne gamme Adidas Equipment (d’où le “EQT”) via le colorway vert/noir/blanc/gris est un peu trop marqué à mon goût : j’adore la silhouette mais je ne suis pas fan du Primeknit à rayures, je trouve que ça fait pyjama. Je passe donc mon tour (mais prendrais une paire dans une autre décli plus tard, c’est certain).

L’EQT Bask ADV :

Alors là c’est simple, j’ai cop direct à 0:01 tellement ce modèle est pour moi une réussite. Les détails, le colorway, les lacets funky, tout est bon.

Et surtout, surtout, Adidas montre qu’elle part déjà vers de nouveaux horizons. Alors que la concurrence est encore sur les running, que les marques historiquement positionnées sur le running comme Asics ou New Balance sont à peine en train de roll out leurs modèles knit, Adidas tente de rendre un autre truc cool. Ou plutôt de re-rendre cool les pompes de basketball.

MAKE BASKETBALL SHOES GREAT AGAIN.

Rappelons que si la chaussure de basket était LE truc qui a tiré le marché dans les 90s (merci Jordan) et la raison pourquoi on appelle souvent des chaussures de sport “baskets”, force est de constater que la recherche permanente de légèreté et de style épuré a relégué les modèles au rang de trucs un peu patauds. C’est simple, au début des années 2000, les modèles phares étaient ceux de la décade précédente, Jordan en tête. Nike étant leader incontesté dans le domaine a évidemment serti son arsenal de nouveaux modèles “signature” portées par des joueurs actuels de talent, de Lebron James (Lebron 15):

À Kevin Durant (KD 10) :

Ou Kyrie Irving (Kyrie 3) :

Ce marché est très porteur aux US, patrie du basketball où les gens aiment acheter les paires portées par leur joueur favori. En Europe ça a fonctionné pendant le règne de Jordan, Pippen, Barkley et autres puis l’appétit s’est éteint. Aux States, c’est la chasse gardée de Nike du coup tout le monde tente de venir à l’image d’Under Armour qui a signé Steph Curry, le meilleur joueur du monde et a sorti la Curry 4 :

Pas fan mais je les trouve plus intéressantes que les Nike vues plus haut.

Si ces modèles ont des atouts indéniables côté technicité et performance, aucune n’est réellement parvenue à devenir un classique de la rue comme ont su le faire les Jordan, Ewing, Barkley ou Pippen en leur temps. Bon j’avoue j’ai toujours un faible pour les KD 10 mais en dehors de ça, ce marché me laissait de marbre (je ne linke même pas les Jordan actuelles tant elles sont visuellement insignifiantes).

La sortie de l’EQT Bask ADV montre donc une tentative claire d’Adidas de parvenir à faire redescentre la basketball shoe dans la rue en la rendant cool et à moins de 110 EUR avec un style et des détails super soignés, elle a tout pour réussir. Parce qu’entre nous, quand on la compare aux paires ci-dessus, faut reconnaître qu’elles sont bien au-dessus.

Et là Nike va vraiment devoir se bouger parce que bon OK, l’Europe et l’Asie, ça a foiré mais bon, le marché US en général et du basket en particulier, c’est le sien donc va falloir se bouger pour pas permettre à Adidas de rester la marque la plus cool du game cette année.

Je vous le redis ami(e)s sneakerheads et moldus : 2018 va être intense !

#Nike #Adidas #EQT #Ultra Boost #NMD #Basketball #Air Max #Vapormax #Under Armour

2 notes · View notes

nightmareonfilmstreet · 7 years

Text

DRACULA Makes the Rules: Visionary Author Bram Stoker Born 170 Years Ago Today!

New Post has been published on https://nofspodcast.com/dracula-makes-rules-visionary-author-bram-stoker-born-170-years-ago-today/

DRACULA Makes the Rules: Visionary Author Bram Stoker Born 170 Years Ago Today!

We all know the rules of the vampire, right? Garlic, bats, stakes, coffins, mirrors. All these attributes and more are so familiar, almost anyone could rattle them off. And why not? Like zombies, vampires have enjoyed a bloody reign over horror for so long, they have practically carved out their own genre.

Sure, the brain starved walking dead have gained a recent dominance over their classier counterparts. But it wasn’t long ago that Twilight ruled the bookstores and box office — for better or for worse. And let’s not forget True Blood, Interview with a Vampire, Salem’s Lot, Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the other iconic additions to the modern vampire myth.

But the current conception of the vampire wasn’t always set in stone. In fact, we have a single work to thank for the majority of the vampire myth as we know it today. The 1897 novel Dracula is where the modern vampire was truly established. And the author behind the horror classic, Bram Stoker, was born 170 years ago today.

Bram Stoker was an Irish theater manager working in London when he wrote Dracula. Stoker had made a habit out of writing novels on the side to earn some extra cash. The author became inspired to turn the European folk myths of vampires into his next story. Stoker spent seven years pouring over vampire folklore to research his book. Most of his sources were the legends and superstitions regarding vampires that were passed down throughout Eastern Europe for centuries.

The tricky thing was, a consistent set of rules for vampires couldn’t be pinned down from these folk sources alone. Besides the fact that a vampire was an undead revenant who fed on blood, everything else could vary widely.

So Stoker took all these folk elements, borrowed some ideas from gothic literature, added a dash of his own creativity, and set down the rules of the modern vampire. Some of these rules remain unaltered, some have transformed over time, and some have been forgotten. But they demonstrate how Dracula defined the modern vampire.

1. “I Never Drink…Wine”

The classic line, uttered by Bela Lugosi in the 1931 film version of Dracula, is iconic because we all know what the vampire does drink. And of course the villain of Stoker’s novel consumes blood. He couldn’t be vampire if he didn’t do that!

What’s interesting is that, unlike most modern vampires, Stoker’s Dracula doesn’t need to consume blood to be immortal. He is undying simply by virtue of being a vampire. He does need blood to gain strength, and the more he consumes, the younger he appears. In fact, at the beginning of the novel, Jonathan Harker encounters a blood starved Dracula who looks old and decrepit. By the time the villian’s feasting on the blood of Londoners, he looks quite young and attractive.

So what else about this rule has stuck around in most modern vampire iterations? Dracula never eats food or drinks anything but the red stuff.

2. Mirror, Mirror

We all know the classic vampire tell. Hold up a mirror to the potential bloodsucker. No reflection? It’s a vampire!

This rule was set down clearly in Dracula, and it’s been a staple of the myth since. One aspect of this rule from the novel that has stuck around less consistently? A vampire will cast no shadow. Some films, like Vampyr (1932) and Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992) prefer shadows that move independently of the vampire. Most forgo shadows and just keep reflections in play.

Either way, we can thank Dracula for confirming the importance of mirrors in the vampire myth.

3. Gone Batty

In pop culture, if a vampire isn’t a suave gentleman (or a sparkly teen heartthrob), they’re a bat. A squeaking bat emerging from a discarded cape is an iconic horror trope for a reason. The fact that vampires could transform themselves into a bat was one of the rules established in Dracula.

But the titular Count wasn’t limited to bats, in fact, he also transformed himself into a wolf, and according to Dr. Van Helsing, he could become dust if he’s in the moonlight, or travel as a mist for a limited distance. He could even become tiny to slip through cracks! Most of these rules have fallen by the wayside. But the Counts’ tendency to turn into a winged, nocturnal bat remains a fixture of the modern vampire.

4. Invitation Only

Another famous rule of the vampire that was set down in Dracula? A vampire cannot enter a place unless they are first invited in. However, once they are invited, they can enter as they please. This is one of the few rules established by Stoker that has remained unaltered in almost every vampire story since.

5. Vampire Repellent

Another standby rule that was established unaltered in Dracula is the classic combo of vampire repellent; crucifixes and garlic. These two remedies of vampiric folklore were firmly set down by Stoker. Because of this, they’ve outlasted salt, rice, mustard seeds, and numerous other traditional vampire repellents to be the two we remember today.

However, it’s interesting that rather than causing a vampire to screech and retreat, as is often seen in films, crucifixes and garlic simply cause a vampire to “take his place far off and silent with respect.” Essentially, he just stands in the corner awkwardly while the dreaded items are around.

6. Slay Away

What’s the most essential vampire rule? How to slay one of course! We all know a vampire slayer would be nowhere without their trusty stakes. And a stake to the heart is the most prominent method of vampire killing employed in Dracula. But it’s not the only possible method laid out by by Van Helsing, the vampire slayer of Stoker’s creation.

Decapitation or a “sacred bullet” can also do the trick. What exactly is a “sacred bullet”? It’s not the silver bullet of werewolf lore, though it certainly shares the folkloric origin. Instead, it’s a bullet that has been blessed, usually with holy water.

Some of these methods of vampire disposal are still featured in vampire lore to this day. But it’s the stake that has remained the most common method to defeat a vampiric threat. Its use in several memorable scenes in Dracula no doubt have contributed to its staying power.

What’s the major vampire killer that doesn’t come from Stoker’s novel? Sunlight! Believe it or not, Dracula’s count could survive the UV exposure that has destroyed many a vampire since. He even appears strolling around in broad daylight in the novel! Daylight does reduce his powers, but it’s not deadly to his kind. The killing power of daylight was established by Nosferatu (1922) and has remained a standby of vampire lore ever since.

It’s worth noting that none of these rules were outright invented by Bram Stoker. Instead, he combed through centuries of vampiric folklore and settled on what to preserve in his tale of the undead.

Other characteristics of the vampire featured in Dracula that have endured include the contagious nature of vampirism — those killed by a vampire will become one. This was sometimes, but not always the case in pre-existing folklore.

The characterization of a vampire as a suave gentlemen wasn’t invented by Stoker. It can be traced to earlier works like The Vampyre (1819) by John William Polidori. But Stoker’s specific version of the vampire, based on Sir Henry Irving, Shakespearean actor and friend of the author, is what has endured. And it’s a serious departure from vampires of folklore; bloated, nightmarish fiends that certainly couldn’t pass undetected in high society.

There are some rules established in Dracula that haven’t stood the test of time. But the ones that have paint a complete picture of the vampire myth as we know it today. And without Bram Stoker’s iconic novel, an entire subgenre of horror would look very different. To anyone who’s ever watched a vampire movie or enjoyed a guilty-pleasure undead romance novel, we have Bram Stoker to thank.

#Bram Stoker #dracula #Dracula novel #horror anniversary #horror history #horror novels #vampire films #vampire folklore #vampire genre #vampire mythology #vampire myths #vampire novels #vampire tropes #vampires

1 note · View note

ustribunenews-blog · 6 years

Text

Bullet for My Valentine Is Performing

Listen To Bullet for My Valentine Live

Experience Bullet for My Valentine live at one of the peformances listed below.

With hits like Tears Don’t Fall, Hand of Blood and 4 Words (To Choke Upon) Bullet for My Valentine has made a mark since forming in Bridgend in 1998.

(more…)

View On WordPress

0 notes

crank11news-blog · 6 years

Text

Bullet for My Valentine Is On The Road

Listen To Bullet for My Valentine Live

Bullet for My Valentine is on the road and will be playing at multiple venues (see below for a full list).

With hits like Tears Don’t Fall, Hand of Blood and 4 Words (To Choke Upon) Bullet for My Valentine has made a mark since forming in Bridgend in 1998.

(more…)

View On WordPress

0 notes

witharthurkirkland · 8 years

Text

The Siege of Paris

Summary: After a strange malfunction in the TARDIS the Doctor and Romana find themselves at the Battle of Wissembourg where they meet someone they didn’t expect. Now they’re trying to figure out why Irving Braxiatel is getting involved in the Franco-Prussian War.

Note: there are probably historical inaccuracies. I tried my best and I apologize for any mistakes.

Part 1 is here

Here is part 2 of 3

Thanks to Braxiatel’s influence (although he claimed that it was due more to Romana’s charm) the Doctor and Romana were allowed to stay with the army. Neither the Doctor nor Romana heard what Braxiatel said to his general to get his permission.

They were assigned shared living quarters (which were no more than spaces in a tent) with Braxiatel and the instruction seemed to be that they were to stay together, possibly to let one of them keep an eye on the others.

Romana, tired of her impractical dress, managed to get a uniform that fit her and “looked quite fetching”, according to Braxiatel, while the Doctor stubbornly refused to part with his clothes. Two hours of arguments later the Doctor changed into a uniform, keeping his scarf and hat. The soldiers all teased him about the scarf in the middle of the summer, but he only grinned and went on about Nostradamus.

The soldiers treated him as their private entertainment. No one took the Doctor seriously as if he was an uncle who wasn’t quite right in the head or a clown with an odd sense of humour.

Romana, on the other hand, commanded complete respect (especially after the second day) and there was a long-running bet that either Romana was Braxiatel’s relative or fiancée. There had been a brief bet about the Doctor, but it was resolved quickly enough.

On the second day after their arrival Romana found Braxiatel and the Doctor sitting next to each other in the shade of a tree. The day was hot and the soldiers who weren’t posted to watch for the enemy or sent away in search of provisions sat around, half sleeping.

“Can you give me a gun to train with, Braxiatel?” Romana asked.

Braxiatel smiled, rose to his feet and wordlessly handed her his rifle. Romana and the Doctor had both noticed that Braxiatel obeyed Romana without question, but neither of them ever brought it up in a conversation.

Several soldiers gathered around to watch.

“This should be good,” one of them muttered.

Romana turned the rifle over, studying it carefully, then she raised it to her shoulder and aimed at the dead branch of a tree. She fired and the bullet missed its intended target by several feet.

“Not as easy as it looks, is it?” someone said.

Braxiatel gave the Doctor a look. “This should be interesting.”

The Doctor frowned. He never approved of guns and he didn’t approve of this target practice.

Romana asked someone to help her reload the rifle and lifted it again.

This time the bullet hit the branch at the weakest point, breaking it into pieces.

Whistles and applause followed this.

Romana fired three more shots to make certain that she had complete control of the rifle. Once she was satisfied she returned the rifle to Braxiatel.

“Quite easy when you account for gravity and air resistance.”

Braxiatel gave her a knowing look and then gave the same to the Doctor. “Would you like to try, Doctor?”

“No, thank you. You know I don’t approve of guns.”

“How would you have us fight?” Braxiatel asked. He was aware of the tension that followed the Doctor’s words as well as the looks some of the men gave his naïve brother. “With pillows?”

The soldiers broke out into laughter. Some of them slapped the Doctor on the back and called him brilliant. He grinned foolishly all around at them.

But both Romana and Braxiatel could see that he was furious.

***

“We should leave,” the Doctor said urgently to Romana. They were taking an evening stroll around the camp, supposedly to check the watch posts on Braxiatel’s orders

“And never find out what your brother is doing here?” Romana asked.

The Doctor stopped and let out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, I admit, you’ve got me there, but it could be just our imaginations. It’s possible that he just decided to follow my example. My inspiring example, I should say!”

Romana gave the Doctor a look. In the week they’d spent with the soldiers she’d seen enough of Braxiatel to understand the difference between him and his brother. The Doctor led a chaotic life, gallivanting through the universe with no purpose except to see new things, or help someone, or to just have fun.

Braxiatel, on the other hand, acted as if everything he did was a well-calculated move in a complicated chess game that no one knew he was playing with them. He managed to get his hands on good food and wine when supplies were hard to come by. He even contrived to eat it all out of silver plates with silver cutlery.

There was only one explanation Romana could think of for this and she wondered where Braxiatel’s TARDIS was. She didn’t even consider the possibility that Braxiatel had travelled in anything else.

The Doctor walked into a bush and spent five minutes pulling himself and his scarf out.

There was only one thing for it. She had to look for it herself. It was unlikely that seeing Braxiatel’s TARDIS would answer any of their questions, but it could be a good starting point.

***

The Doctor woke up from the sound of shouting and jumped to his feet. Romana’s place was empty and he wondered how long she’d been awake. He didn’t listen to the shouting, dismissing it as the usual military nonsense and pompousness.

He emerged from his tent with an exaggerated yawn and grinned at the first soldier he saw.

“André! Good morning! Any chance of a breakfast? I remember once saying to –”

“Never mind your stories, Doctor!” Braxiatel interrupted, rushing to him. “Where is Romana?”

“No idea. She isn’t in our tent.”

“I know that. I just spent an hour looking for her in the camp.”

“She’s probably out on a stroll,” the Doctor shrugged.

“Doctor! This is serious! We’re in the middle of a war! The Prussians can attack any minute and Romana is gone!”

“Maybe she returned to the TARDIS.”

Braxiatel sighed. “I have patrols around it. No one saw or heard anything.”

“We can ask around to see if anyone saw her,” the Doctor said calmly, but he was starting to feel Braxiatel’s anxiety. How was it that panic was so infectious?

“We don’t have time! The men said –”

The rest of the sentence was drowned out by screams and suddenly there were soldiers all around them.

“Did you say Prussians could attack any minute –” the Doctor began.

“Stay close to me!” Braxiatel raised his rifle and fired. “Men! To me! We’re under attack! Defend your positions!”

The Doctor ducked behind Braxiatel as the other fired shot after shot.

“Fight, Doctor! Find a weapon and fight!” Braxiatel shouted.

“I’d really rather not, if it’s all the same to you.”

“It’s not! I can’t defend you!”

Several French soldiers ran forward. They attacked with a great deal of energy, as if taking the sudden appearance of the enemy as a personal insult. But there were too many soldiers attacking. The French were overwhelmed on all sides.

“Retreat!” someone shouted. “Fall back to the city!”

The Doctor grabbed Braxiatel by the arm and they ran, ducking and weaving past the soldiers, trees and flying bullets.

Wissembourg loomed ahead, surrounded by walls that no longer seemed impenetrable.

Braxiatel and the Doctor were the first ones to make it to the city. Braxiatel shouted orders to the soldiers, forgetting about ranks and taking command of the situation in the confusion.

The next group of soldiers that came brought bad news.

“They killed the General! They killed Douay!” someone gasped out while trying to catch their breath.

“There’s no time to mourn him now,” Braxiatel said. “We must –”

“Yes, thank you, lieutenant. I can take over from here.” The voice of command made Braxiatel turn and salute.

“Marshall.”

“Take up positions and prepare to fire on my command!” the Marshall shouted.

Braxiatel stepped aside and stood next to the Doctor out of the way of the other soldiers as they found places to stand around the perimeter of the town and load their weapons.

Despite all of the noise caused by many people moving around and preparing for an attack the soldiers were quiet. Their spirits were broken by that one death.

And then the Prussian artillery fired and cannonballs rained down on the city wall.

The Doctor grabbed Braxiatel and pulled him further into the city.

“I need to fight!” Braxiatel protested. “You might not want to, but I will!”

“Braxiatel, listen. Maybe Romana is here somewhere. We need to find her.”

“You go look. I’ll stay here.” He saw the Doctor’s expression and sighed. “Alright, point taken. We’ll both look.”

As they slipped away unseen by any of the soldiers the Doctor missed the smile on Braxiatel’s face.

They searched the city, desperate for any clues. The citizens were all confused and frightened. Some were searching for food. Some had gone to help fight the attackers, while others hid in their homes and barricaded their doors. Of Romana there was no sign.

The canons kept firing sporadically and more and more of the wall was turned to rubble. A couple of the buildings near the walls were also destroyed.

The Doctor noticed a big gap in the city wall in front of them that offered a way out. He ran ahead before he noticed that Braxiatel had stopped.

“You lost her!” Braxiatel exclaimed. “Do you know what you’ve done? We’re stuck on this stupid level 4 planet, in a war that has nothing to do with us that will turn bad very soon, cut off from our only way of getting out and you lost the President of Gallifrey!”

For several minutes neither of them breathed. Canons continued to fire. Soldiers screamed. Children wept. People shouted something.

“Did I ever tell you about the time when Caligula and I –”

“Doctor, please, not now.”

The Doctor sighed. “Romana is a clever girl. She can take care of herself,” he said calmly.

“This is war, Doctor,” Braxiatel replied in a tone of voice that was much more subdued, “not a puzzle you can solve with your brains.”

“I know. Jelly baby?” the Doctor offered his bag.

“Where did you – oh, never mind. Do you have any green ones?”

“I think so.” The Doctor searched his bag. “There!” He pulled one out and handed it to Braxiatel. “What will we do now?”

Braxiatel, who managed to eat a jelly baby with a grace a member of the royal family would have been proud of, considered his words before answering. “Wissembourg will be taken. Then the war will move further into France. There will be several battles and a siege, but it will all end in Paris.”

“Then that’s where we go.”

“Easier said than done in these conditions.”

“Are you giving up already, Braxiatel?”

“Of course not, Doctor.”

***

They spent the day moving in what the Doctor judged to be Paris’ general direction. It took some careful maneuvering to slip out of the city and past the soldiers that were closing in.

When night fell they were deep in a forest.

The Doctor sat down next to a tree. “I suggest we take a short rest and keep going.”

“Agreed.” Braxiatel collapsed next to him. He tried to hide how tired he was, but the Doctor was watching him closely this time.

“You know this reminds me of a camping trip with –”

“Doctor, if you’re planning to name drop again…” Braxiatel warned in a fed up tone of voice.

“— the Brigadier and Sarah. Well, we also had a bunch of soldiers from UNIT with us. We weren’t really camping, to be honest. There was an animal that came out late at night and kidnapped little children and we were sent to investigate. We hid and waited for it to appear. Turned out it was just stealing children to feed and look after them, because its maternal instinct extended to humans. I never did find out what it was called or where it was originally from, because one of the soldiers got overenthusiastic and shot it.” There was a sad smile on the Doctor’s face. “And it will all happen in about 100 years or so, several hundred miles from here.”

“Doctor…” Braxiatel began and stopped.

“Yes?”

“Do you think you could keep your voice down?”

The Doctor grinned. “Not a problem,” he said in a theatrical whisper.

Braxiatel leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes. “We have five hours before the sun rises and it will be light again.”

The Doctor searched his pockets and pulled out a yo-yo which he tossed into the air in front of him.

It was quiet, apart from the many noises made by various animals that live in a forest and come out to hunt for food at night.

The Doctor looked at Braxiatel. His brother’s eyes were still closed and his chest was rising and falling steadily.

“You’re getting too old for this,” the Doctor whispered really quietly.

Braxiatel opened one eye. “Maybe I am, Theta.” He closed his eye again.

The Doctor shifted a few inches closer to Braxiatel and continued to play with his yo-yo.

Twenty minutes later Braxiatel opened his eyes and rose to his feet. “Time to go.”

***

They travelled onwards, slipping through forests at night and avoiding all roads. They hid whenever they heard soldiers coming their way. Twice they just barely avoided being captured.

The Doctor’s supply of jelly babies ran out on the third day and they had to look for something edible in the forest. They found fruit trees and devised ways of carrying more fruit with them.

Two weeks after Wissembourg they ran into the French army and ended up with no choice but to join them in their retreat.

“Very clever, Doctor,” Braxiatel mumbled. “I told you to keep your voice down.”

“This is why wearing uniforms was a bad idea,” the Doctor grumbled.

The soldiers spent all night and the early hours of the morning digging trenches. Braxiatel and the Doctor were forced to join this task. They worked side by side, not exchanging a single word. Occasionally someone would pass, shouting more orders and saying something about the position of the artillery that the Time Lords didn’t hear.

And then the sound of gunfire broke the sound of people moving huge quantities of dirt.

Braxiatel stood with a rifle in his hands, ready to fire as soon as the enemy appeared. The Doctor continued to dig as if nothing happened.

“They’re coming!” a soldier shouted.

“You there! Stop digging! Take your position!”

The Doctor pretended not to hear.

“I can see them,” Braxiatel said quietly and fired.

The Doctor sat down on the ground. His uniform was muddy as were his hands. He wiped one dirty hand over his face. “We can leave now,” he said quietly, “while they’re distracted.”

“Not yet.”

When he ran out of bullets, Braxiatel tossed the rifle aside and picked up the one that had been assigned to the Doctor. “I’m ready.”

They slipped away unseen: so engrossed was everyone in the battle. They walked through the trenches, passing soldiers and telling anyone who saw them that they had an urgent message for the General.

Their luck lasted three hours. Then it ran out.

“Yeah, right. Show me this message,” a captain demanded.

“It’s verbal,” the Doctor said, “and only for the General’s ears. It’s urgent.”

“As if I’m going to believe that.”

The Doctor threw a look at Braxiatel to see if he had any ideas as to how to handle this.

Braxiatel’s response was swift: he raised his rifle and shot the captain.

“Braxiatel!” the Doctor exclaimed angrily. He jumped up to the body on the ground and turned it over. The man was dead. “You didn’t have to do that!”

“Yes, I did. We’re getting out of here, Doctor. Now get up and let’s go!”

“Haven’t you had enough of killing, Braxiatel? How many people did you kill today? How many lives did you take? And this man was supposedly on your side!”

“No one is on my side.”

“Then why are you fighting this war? Just what are you doing here? Did you get so tired of negotiating peace that now you want to kill everyone you meet? Does life have no more meaning for you? Why not kill me too?”

“He’s fighting a war. He would’ve died anyway.”

Braxiatel’s cool attitude fired up the Doctor’s temper even more. “How dare you? This isn’t the Braxiatel I knew! Who are you? What happened to you?”

“Now isn’t the time.”

“Yes, it is!”

“Get down!” Braxiatel grabbed the Doctor and pulled him down as bullets flew overhead.

“What are you doing?” a soldier shouted. “This is no time for an argument! Back to your posts!”

Braxiatel raised his head. “Look at him, Theta,” he said quietly, his arms still on the Doctor’s shoulders. “Look at how he waves that around. I fired that shot to help us get out of here, to protect your life and he just fired on his own soldiers.”

“Brax, you –”

Braxiatel raised his rifle and shot the soldier. Then he got up and brushed himself off. “Anyone else?” He looked around.

The trenches were empty around them.

“Come on, Doctor, let’s go.”

“No. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Really? Now you want to throw a tantrum, Theta? You’re not a time tot.”

“I’m not a killer either.”

Braxiatel sighed. “Doctor, remember we’re looking for Romana. We don’t know what happened to her. Every moment we delay might cost her her life.”

“What happened to you, Brax?” the Doctor asked again, the anger no longer present in his voice.

Braxiatel shook his head. “Many things. I had to learn how to survive.”

The Doctor stared in horror at the corpse on the ground. “I’m not sure that’s called survival.”

“Now’s not the time for catching up, Doctor, or a debate about morals.” He looked down at the Doctor and then extended his hand. “I can’t even tell you most of it. I’ve already revealed too much. You have to trust me. Please.”

The Doctor looked at Braxiatel’s hand. “You’re from Gallifrey’s future, aren’t you?”

“Many, many years in the future. By rights, I shouldn’t be here.”

“You called Romana a President.”

“Yes, well…” Braxiatel made to retract his hand, but the Doctor grabbed it and pulled himself to his feet. Braxiatel nearly lost his balance.

“I don’t need to know any more,” the Doctor said. “I’ve heard enough. Looking at you, I dare not guess what happens to Gallifrey.”

Braxiatel controlled his face and kept it from revealing anything.

“Let’s go and find Romana.”

The rest of the day was spent moving through the trenches.

#fanfiction #The Siege of Paris #doctor who #doctor and Braxiatel #Braxiatel #four #Braxiatel and Romana #Romana #doctor who eu #classic who

1 note · View note

junker-town · 7 years

Text

NBA scores 2017: Why we’re still worried about the Pelicans, and 6 more things from Wednesday

The Brow and Boogie is the best experiment in ages, but they still have nothing around them.

If the New Orleans Pelicans have a problem, it’s this: they’re too good.

Yes, yes, we know — that’s normally not a problem. But the Pelicans, now 18-16 after walloping the Brooklyn Nets on Wednesday, aren’t good overall, just a couple games over .500. In fact, there’s one statistic in particular that just doesn’t seem sustainable, and that’s their three-point shooting. New Orleans is hitting 38.8 percent behind the three-point arc, the best mark in the entire league.

We’ve bemoaned the Pelicans this season, despite having two big men that could both start in the All-Star Game. Why would they? New Orleans’ game on Wednesday showed why, as the two big men combined for 60 points, 25 rebounds, and eight blocks between the two of them. (Davis was a plus-37 and Cousins, a plus-39. Spoiler alert: that’s extremely good.) The duo even shared seven assists between them.

But New Orleans has problems, and that problem is the bench lineup. Even playing against Brooklyn, the Pelicans seemed out of sorts. The Nets scored 128 points against New Orleans, while four of the six Pelicans bench players finished with a plus-minus that was minus-10 or worse.

So back to that problem: are the Pelicans — the Pelicans — suddenly the best three-point shooting team in the league? They were only the 19th best shooting team last season. They have E’Twaun Moore and Darius Miller shooting 47.4 percent and 45.5 percent, respectively, while Anthony Davis has reached 40 percent. Needless to say, those are all career highs by a long shot.

Consider all that, and consider that the Pelicans are still only two games over .500. Moore and Miller are likely better shooters than they’ve ever been, and they may continue to set career highs. That doesn’t mean they won’t fall off some, especially with both playing more minutes than ever before in their careers.

I want the Pelicans to be good, because their style is the most interesting experiment we’ve seen in half a decade. But if a couple of the role players that have actually been producing for them come back to Earth, even slightly ... what then?

Speaking of, Rajon Rondo might be in the same boat

youtube

TWENTY-FIVE assists. That’s a stat line right there.

I am still slightly wary of Rondo, Real NBA Contributor. Throw out any defensive impact that he used to make in Boston, certainly. But New Orleans’ best two players are big men, and one thing Rondo can do is feed them. He’ll generate offense simply by reading post-up and pick-and-roll situations right more often than your average guard, and his touch will generate easy buckets for two cerebral players.

His three-point shooting may also fall into the above category, but probably not — he’s shooting 36.6 percent on 2.2 attempts per game, about in line with the past two seasons. Opponents still leave Rondo, but it’s not quite four-on-five basketball like the old days. Anyway, it’s good to have a player who can score two points while recording 25 assists. That, if nothing else, is a real joy.

Jayson Tatum is laughing hysterically at the “rookie wall”

Boston’s incredible first-year player just ... won’t ... stop ... being ... so ... damn ... good. As Boston led wire-to-wire in a win against Charlote, Tatum played 35 minutes, hit 6-of-12 from the field, and finished with 18 points, five rebounds, two steals, and two steals. He’s ever learning dribble moves from Kyrie Irving, or something.

Jayson Tatum is too smooth. http://pic.twitter.com/desMFKm3cS

— SportsCenter (@SportsCenter) December 28, 2017

I still tend to think this season will catch up to Tatum eventually, even just a little bit, but it’s extremely hard to argue with his results so far. As he continues to shoot 52 percent from the field and 48 percent from deep, it’s reasonable to ask why he isn’t taking more shots, in all honesty.

Oklahoma City’s offense finally has the right hierarchy

The Thunder, for the past couple weeks, have turned back to Russell Westbrook as their leading option for everything and plugged Paul George in behind him. It works, and it’s probably what it should have been this entire time, even if Carmelo Anthony had to take his lumps so he would more willingly accept the third option. And on Wednesday, Westbrook had 30 points, 13 assists and eight rebounds, George dropped 33 points himself, and Anthony fit in fine as a third “guy” — 18 points, 8-of-15 shooting, and an understanding that he’s a cog in the system now.

(Oklahoma City beat Toronto convincingly, too, and the Raptors have been sensational this season. That’s an excellent win.)