#a real possibility for him. but late-show sam would be such a fucking good parent it hurts to think about
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angel
#i love how gentle he is it's a balm on my soul tbh#and i love that when he's asked whether he wants kids he's like ''i have no idea'' bc you just know he doesn't see it as#a real possibility for him. but late-show sam would be such a fucking good parent it hurts to think about#spn#liveblog tag#10.11
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Brought Together by a Five-Year-Old (Dean Winchester x F!Reader) Part 7: The Samsquatch
A few days had gone by since the Night of Pie and Problems (as Dean had come to refer to it) and Dean had called his brother several times about the issue. Normally he wasn't one to discuss matters of the heart or feelings in general. He could help his students deal with their emotions but outside of the classroom, everything felt too real, too personal, too chick-flicky.
But he and Sam talked on the phone almost every day and, much to his dismay, when they had chatted on the afternoon following the Night of Pie and Problems Sammy had figured out that Dean was different in a matter of minutes. Given this realization and a few well-posed questions, it had only taken Sam a few more minutes to find the exact source of Dean's "angsty teen demeanor" as Sam had so kindly referred to it.
Dean hadn't been surprised in the slightest, merely rolling his eyes and moving aside, when his brother showed up on his doorstep twenty minutes later, beaming and practically singing at the thought of some deep discussion with his ever so emotionally stunted brother.
The two had talked late into the night and finished a bottle of whiskey by the time they said their goodbyes. Sam had pried every detail he possibly could from Dean and, while Dean had been incredibly uncomfortable until the whiskey hit him, he had to admit he sort of appreciated his brother's council. Sam had always been good with these things, so intuitive with the emotions of himself and others, so smart and good at solving problems. It reminded Dean why he was a kindergarten teacher and not a hotshot genius lawyer like his younger brother. Dean really didn't resent Sam for it though. He didn't. He was proud of the kid, fucked up childhood that they had and he still turned out great. Dean couldn't say the same for himself but he sure as hell tried his best to make up for his faults.
He had cut back his drinking and dedicated everything he had to his students, deciding to take a break from the dating scene for awhile. It had been a couple years now since his last proper relationship and he hadn't had a one-night stand in nearly the same amount of time. He felt better about himself than he had in years but he still knew deep down that he wasn't worth much. Not in comparison to Sammy. Or really anyone. But that didn't mean he couldn't bask in the pride he had in his kid brother and try to improve himself step by step.
These were the thoughts he was having the Friday morning following the Night of Pie and Problems as he unlocked the door to his classroom, noting the echo of the jingle of his keys hitting his keychain, a small metal amulet of protection he had picked up on a whim from some shop on a trip to a small market. The sound reverberated through the near-empty hallway as Dean walked through the door and sat at his desk, immediately getting sucked back into his thoughts. Sammy was visiting today, he wanted to meet this year's batch of rambunctious little shits (Dean's words) and take note of S/N so he could make some judgment on how well his mother was raising him and if she was deserving of Dean, despite Dean's insistence that she was a more than capable parent and deserved far better than him. Dean had tried to get it through his brother's giant moose head that he couldn't possibly let himself pursue the mother of one of his students but Sam had scoffed and waved the thought away with a nonchalant "So you wait."
Since Sam's impromptu visit, Dean had started to fantasize a bit about what it would be like if he did pursue Y/N. Maybe after S/N moved on to first-grade. Or would that be too soon? Too eager? He didn't know but he figured it was a bridge to be crossed when and if he ever reached it.
He thought back to Tuesday morning, torn between wishing Y/N had to drop S/N off every day so he could see her and convincing himself it was better not to see her that frequently, lest it make the waiting even more difficult. He didn't want to pine away like some schoolboy with a crush on the head cheerleader or whatever. Looking up he realized the Novaks were at the door, right on schedule, and that they must've been knocking for a minute because his watch read 7:47 and he could hear the impatient tapping of Ms. Novak's foot outside the door. He scrambled to open it and straighten himself up to his full height to avoid any chastizing about his posture.
After a brief but biting tongue-lashing, Ms. Novak strode away and Dean faced the children. Within the next hour, the rest of the kids had been dropped off and Gabriel had managed to melt a whole box of crayons under a lamp. How Dean had missed this he didn't know but he took a deep breath and cleaned the mess up, informing Gabriel that he would get no sweet snack later that day as a punishment and almost feeling guilty when the boy turned on the waterworks. Almost.
At around 9:45 there was a knock at the door. Dean stood up and made a quick announcement, "Hey guys, my brother Sam is visiting us today. Make sure to be extra nice to him and remember: he loves being called Sammy." A majority of the students cheered at the thought of a visitor, though Aleister and Chuck seemed indifferent to the excitement, choosing to remain in their corner and read. Dean smirked and opened the door, finding himself wrapped in his brother's ridiculously long arms immediately and feeling the taller man's breath on his ear as Sam asked, "Which one is S/N?"
Dena pushed his brother away and rolled his eyes. Without looking back at the kids he yelled out, "Alright everyone line up in alphabetical order, by first name, and then we'll go down the line and make introductions."
The children all hurried into position, eager to prove their ability to follow the order and meet the giant man who towered over their big grown-up teacher. Dean turned around and surveyed the line, nodding in satisfaction and pointing at Aleister. "You first buddy and then we'll go down the line." Aleister huffed lightly but stepped out of line slightly and, with a slight bow (surely some dramatics he learned from his wildly unpredictable mother), spoke, "My name is Aleister Crowley. Nice to meet you... Sammy." Dean held back a laugh at Sam's reaction to the strangely high amount of disdain and mockery in the six-year-old's voice and to the clear moment of realization he had when he figured out that Dean must've told these adorable, innocent little kids about his nickname.
Sam pulled a face at Dean but was back to smiling in an instant as the children kept introducing themselves. He took special note of the little Y/H/C-haired boy that proclaimed himself as S/N, planning to keep an eye on him throughout his visit.
Dean got the kids started on some basic addition and subtraction problems, telling Sam he could walk around and help them if they needed it. Then the plan was math, storytime, art, recess and lunch, silent reading, science, free time and home.
Sam was excited. He always loved coming to visit Dean's classes, it was nice to see his brother happy and Sam couldn't deny he loved kids as well. He was hoping to have a few of his own someday and even though he had only just met his current girlfriend, Jess, a year ago he had a feeling he'd be starting his own little family pretty soon. And he couldn't wait.
Sam walked around, watching the children work furiously on their problem sheets. He moved towards the back of the room, to the table where Castiel, S/N, and Kevin were finishing up the last of their problems. He sat down in the last open chair, causing the three boys to look up at him. Kevin's big brown eyes immediately widened and he looked down hurriedly focusing on his work to avoid conversing with the gargantuan stranger. Sam smiled at the kid and readjusted himself, remembering just how tiny these seats were and just how much he had to contort himself to properly get his long legs under the table. He looked over at the other two boys, noticing that S/N continued to pay attention to his work, looking up ever so often to make sure he was being polite and could talk to the man in front of him, while Castiel was sitting there paying rapt attention to Sam, waiting for any sign of acknowledgment.
Sam was thrown off a bit by the pure intensity burning in those bright blue eyes. The little boy seemed like he had seen a thousand empires rise and fall, and the way he waited for Sam to speak was as if Sam was at a confessional, about to get advice and repent but from someone who already knew all of his sins. Sam wasn't a particularly religious man but something about little Cas gave him some weird vibes like the boy was old beyond his years. Or powerful, in some way. Sam laughed at his thoughts and began talking to the boy, "So, Castiel, right?"
The black-haired boy nodded curtly.
Sam smiled, "That's an interesting name, where'd you get it?"
Castiel took a deep breath, "Well my mudder picked it becawse Castiew is the angel of thuwsdays and it awso means my covew is God. My mudder wanted each of us to have weligious names so God would wuve us mowah."
Raising his eyebrows, Sam was unsure what to say. He supposed that explained the piety radiating from the child. He cleared his throat and nodded at Castiel, "That's really cool Cas, so your brother is Gabriel then?"
Cas nodded again and sighed, "He's a weal twoublemakew." Shaking his head in disappointment he looked at his brother who was currently ripping off pieces of his worksheet and rolling them into ammunition, readying himself for an attack and eyeing the unsuspecting Michael sitting at the table next to him. Sam snorted and held back a laugh. Tapping Castiel on the arm, he leaned in and whispered, "You may not believe it but my brother, your teacher, was quite the little troublemaker back in his day."
Castiel gasped dramatically, throwing his tiny hands up to cover his gaping mouth, "Mistew Winchestew was a twoublemakew?" Sam opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a voice coming from the lowered head of the Y/H/C-haired boy sitting next to Castiel.
"I believe it." S/N said, looking up at Sam with a goofy grin.
Sam laughed heartily, "Yeah? Good. He was a little rascal back in his day, though he also spent most of his time raising me so he deserved a little slack. He's a great guy." All three of the boys at the table nodded enthusiastically. Castiel was the first to respond, "I wuv Mistew Winchestew he's the best teachew evew." S/N smiled at his friend and spoke up as well, "I bet he was a good brother to have. I wish I had a brother like him. He'd be a good Papa too." Kevin refrained from speaking but nodded furiously in agreement while he continued to stare at his paper, going over his answers for what Sam had noticed was the third time. Very thorough.
Sam laughed again, "Yeah. He would be. And he was an amazing brother. I'm very lucky." Sam couldn't help but feel his heart warm at the love the kids shared for his brother. He was proud of the big lug, Dean really was great with kids and it showed. Plus, S/N thought he'd "make a good Papa". He'd have to remember to tell Dean that later. Even the kid was rooting for Dean and this Y/N lady. He couldn't wait to meet her. He had a good feeling about her just by hearing Dean talk about her and meeting her son.
Dean probably wouldn't ever admit it but as soon as Sam had gotten him rolling and he had a couple drinks in his system he wouldn't shut up about the woman. Sam had actually gotten out his phone to record some of it for later. The quality wasn't great but you could hear enough that it would make a good bargaining chip when Sam inevitably had to convince Dean to ask the lady out. God, he had heard so much about her "sparkling and bright Y/E/C colored eyes" that apparently swallowed Dean whole. Not to mention the way her "Y/H/C hair framed her angelic face perfectly" and the way her "laugh made his ears happier than the guitar riff from Ramble On." Apparently, the woman had good taste in music and was good in the kitchen as well. Sam had to admit she sounded pretty wonderful, and smart too given what Dean had said about her career and her ability to handle S/N. All in all, it seemed to Sam that his brother was finally shot by Cupid. Bad thought. Cherubs gave him the creeps. Either way, Sam was happy his brother was feeling this way, so enamored and, under the deep layers of self-doubt and denial, hopeful.
The group's attention was drawn to the far corner of the room where Dean stood, clapping his hands three times in quick succession. When he had the room's full attention, he announced that it was storytime. His students rushed to the round carpet where he was standing and found their spots. Dean grabbed a book from the shelf and sat down in his designated reading chair. Sam hung back, admiring the scenario. This was one of his favorite parts of his visits. Watching Dean lose himself in the story, no inhibitions or guarded demeanor, made Sam extremely happy. His brother tried to be lighthearted and act like he didn't care, but Same knew how hard Dean struggled sometimes. It was nice to see him happy, goofing around and giving voices to the characters in the stories, gesturing wildly and acting out scenes to make the kids laugh. Sam always told Dean that he just loved coming to visit the kids, that it was a good way for him to unwind. And while that wasn't a lie, it wasn't the full truth. The truth was, he never saw his brother as carefree and happy as he did when Dean was teaching. And Sam knew that his brother deserved that kind of happiness. He hoped this girl could help with that too.
Art, recess, and lunch flew by and Sam suddenly found himself in completely silent room, children littered everywhere, eyes ferociously scanning the pages of the books in their hands. Sam zeroed in on S/N, sitting in the corner of the bookshelf and the wall on a ragged beanbag, and smiled. He seemed like a really good kid. Sam could only imagine how his mother must be. He smirked, realizing now would be the perfect time to chat with his brother, since Dean couldn't cause a scene by trying to avoid the conversation.
He waltzed over to his brother, plopping down on the desk and crossing his arms with a sly grin. Keeping his voice low he leaned closer to Dean with a smug smile on his face, "Sooooo... S/N is pretty cute. Good kid. Raised well I'd say."
Dean rolled his eyes, "Ah yeah wonder why you're so focused on S/N." Sighing he realized that, as annoying and typical as it was for Sam to do this, he couldn't refute his brother's statement. "He's a fantastic kid, one of the best in the class. But we've already discussed all of this. At length. It's just not an option for me Sammy."
Sam chuckled at Dean's stubbornness, "I thought we ended on a better note than that. You just have to wait a little while if you're so against making a move now. From what you told me she seemed very interested. Plus, the kid made a comment earlier today about how you'd be a 'good Papa'. Dean, even S/N sees and approves of this connection. He's a smart little boy." Sam's voice unintentionally rose a bit as he emphasized his point. Dean's eyes went wide and he shushed his brother with a quick glare. Sam shuddered at the realization that his brother had perfected the Reprimanding Teacher Look. He could make a librarian shit their pants.
Smirking at his cowering brother, Dean responded, "Look, I know you want me to be happy. Trust me I want that too. And I do really think that something could come of this but I can't in good conscience ask out the mother of one of my students. She could feel obligated to say yes just because I'm around her son every day. Or so that I don't treat him any differently. Of course, I would never let bias like that factor into the way I treated a child in my care but she can't know that she barely knows me." Dean was starting to spiral a bit and Sam could tell he needed to calm his brother before they drew the attention of the children.
"Dean, she has to have realized by now that you're a good guy. From what you've told me I think she knows your character enough to know she wouldn't have to worry about something like that. But like I said before if it's such a problem for you, then wait. Wait, and get to know her better over the rest of the school year. Maybe something will come of it and maybe something won't. But the kid loves you and I'm sure you charmed the socks off his mom."
Dean chuckled a little at that, "Thanks, Sammy. I know it's dumb, me getting all worked up about this. It's weird. I don't know how to feel about the way I feel about her. I don't know. I'll figure it out. I think you're right, I just need to wait. This could be some infatuation that'll pass in a couple of weeks."
Sam nodded, "You're right. Just give it some time and it might pass. Or it might blossom into something beautiful. You never know. But, if it's meant to be then it'll work out no matter what."
Gagging, Dean gave his brother an incredulous look, "Ok, that's enough chick-flick talk Jesus Christ Sammy. You know I'm not D-R-U-N-K enough for that."
Sam laughed, "You think any of these kids would recognize that word?"
Dean huffed in annoyance, "Probably not but I don't need them running to their parents asking about it."
The two were interrupted by a small voice, hidden behind Sam, asking, "Asking ouw pawents about what Mistew Winchestew?"
Both brothers jumped at the question. Sam slowly turned around and Dean leaned over to see around him. Standing straight and tall was the tiny black-haired Castiel with an inquisitive look on his face and his two best friends behind him. S/N giggled at the men's reactions as Sam sputtered for an answer. Dean turned red but managed to pull himself together enough to answer the little boy, "Ah, Castiel, why aren't you guys reading? You've still got ten minutes until we move on from silent reading."
S/N stepped forward, somehow sensing the uncomfortable atmosphere that Castiel seemed completely oblivious to, "We know Mr. Winchester. We're sorry, we just wanted to know if we could go to the library to get new books."
Dean let out the breath he'd been holding when it became clear that the change of topic had caused Castiel to drop the subject. The three boys stared expectantly up at Dean. He smiled at them, causing Kevin to visibly relax, "Of course, thank you for asking permission. Go ahead and find something new to read."
The three boys ran out the door celebrating. "They're little nerds, Sammy. Just like you were."
Sam smirked, "Well all your experience raising this nerd makes you quite the candidate for S/N's father figure."
Dean rubbed his temples in frustration, groaning out a quiet expletive.
Raising his eyebrow, Sam wondered, "Not gonna spell that one out?"
Dean punched his brother lightly, "Shut it B-I-T-C-H."
Laughing, Sam retorted, "J-E-R-K."
Dean gasped, faking horror, "How dare you?" Their soft laughter was interrupted by the return of the three boys, successful in their search for new books. Dean gave the rambunctious kids a look, reminding them that they needed to be quiet, and they immediately settled down. Dean checked the time and made the announcement that it was now time to move on to science.
Sam wandered the room after Dean's lesson, helping the kids finish their work so they could move on to free time. Most of them understood their lesson fairly well, apparently they'd touched base on photosynthesis the day before so the lesson on it today wasn't too much of a strain for them. In no time they were wreaking havoc, and suddenly Sam realized 3:30 had rolled around. He and Dean worked on getting all the kids ready to meet their parents.
Once all the kids had been picked up, they finally took a seat at the nearest table. Sam realized he had a light sheen of sweat covering his forehead. These kids were hard work. And, well, he may have been a little out of shape. Only a little though, he ate very well and exercised pretty regularly. Ok, he may have slacked recently but still. He had a lot of cases to work on right now. It was mainly just the neverending energy of these children that drained him. Definitely. He didn't know how Dean did it every day.
He glanced over at his brother to see him dozing back in the tiny chair, head tilted to one side and mouth hanging slightly open. He held back a laugh and looked around for anything he could put in his sleeping brother's mouth.
He decided a fluffy pipe cleaner would be the best weapon for him to use to pester his brother. He quietly grabbed said crafting material from the other end of the table, where Chuck had been creating some intricate sculpture. As he leaned in to tickle his brother's nose, Sam heard a voice.
Without moving or opening his eyes, Dean growled out a warning, "Don't even think about it, Sammy." Opening one eye, he looked at his brother's stunned face, "Sammy, you're basically a genius, but I deal with those little shits every day. You can't pull a fast one on me like that. I promise you anything you think of, they've thought of first. Kindergartners are small and young but they are mighty mischievous."
Sam laughed and tossed the pipe cleaner back to its pile. "Well shit, Dean."
Dean smirked and stood up. Groaning and stretching he forced out the phrase, "We should probably clean up. I think I'm just going to take my extra work home tonight, so the sooner we clean up, the sooner you can come back to my place and we can crack a beer or two."
Sam nodded and the two got started. They finished in an hour and decided to walk down the street to pick up a pizza for an early dinner. Returning to Dean's small, one bedroom apartment they sat down and began shoving their faces. Dean cracked open a couple beers and Sam happily took one. He figured he could binge with some beer and pizza for one night. They chatted and passed a couple of hours drinking and avoiding the subject of Y/N. Sam thought he might have pushed the issue a bit too much and had chosen not to bring it up while they hung out.
Surprisingly enough, as Sam was grabbing his coat and preparing to walk back to the train so he could ride a couple of stops north to get to the apartment he shared with Jess, Dean spoke up.
"Hey... Sammy... Do you really think it could all work out?"
Sam hesitated, not wanting to assume anything and accidentally bring up the topic he had been trying to avoid if that somehow wasn't what Dean was referring to, "Do I think what could work out, Dean?"
Dean narrowed his eyes and sighed, "You know what Sam. Her."
Sam took a deep breath, "I still haven't met her, though I'd really like to, so I can't be certain. But if what you say is at all true then I think she would be interested. And if her son is at all reflection of her then she's gotta be a catch. And you're a catch too. So if all that is accurate then yeah, I don't see why not. And either way, you said you wanted to wait. So wait. And the feelings could fade or grow into something more. Like I said earlier if it's meant to be then it'll happen."
Dean looked down at his feet, thinking. Sighing again, boy he did that a lot now, he brought his eyes up to meet his brother's, "Yeah. You're right. She's great but who knows. I just need to wait a while. Maybe in a few weeks the feelings will fade and I'll know it was just infatuation and that I made the right choice in not pursuing it."
Sam smiled sadly at his brother, not used to seeing him like this, "Maybe they will. But they might not. And that's not a bad thing." He opened the door and stepped into the hallway, "I'll see you later, Dean. Call me if you need anything. Love you man."
Dean watched his brother's slow gait as he meandered down the hall and around the corner to the stairs. He mumbled a goodbye, more to himself than anything, and resolved to thank Sam again for his help later. Maybe he was right. Maybe the feelings would fade. Dean sorta hoped they did. He wasn't made for this complicated love junk.
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#kindergarten teacher dean winchester#dean x reader#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#reader insert#female reader#x reader#single mother reader#supernatural fanfic#supernatural#fanfiction#fanfic
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from one kid to another
w/c: 6.0k
warnings: mentions of drinking, lots of swearing, implied smut, and angst at times
summary: it was a mistake, a beautiful one that you didn’t make on your own
a/n: this genuinely is my favorite thing i’ve ever written :,) i say that a lot but this time i mean it, it’s really special i think and i so so so hope y’all do too <3 enjoy my loves
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there’s only one thing in life that testing positive for is actually positive.
depending on the situation, obviously. yours isn’t ideal, or planned or a blessing or whatever people say. it’s a gigantic mistake that you didn’t realize you made until a minute ago.
you’d noticed something was wrong when your time of the month came and all you experienced was the symptoms. cramps, cravings, everything except your actual period. as everyone is pretty much taught to do, you ran to the closest drug store for a pregnancy test. what the hell else could it be? you messed around a few weeks ago, so there’s a possibility.
your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest the whole time you waited for the results. you’d thought of calling tom over for support, but there are a couple of reasons why you couldn’t do that. you realized you made the right decision when your timer for the test went off.
two red lines. you’re pregnant. you’re pregnant, and your best fucking friend is the father.
where do you go from here?
the test falls from your hand and hits the floor with a mocking clank. you slide down until your back is against the bathtub. well, you’re fucked. what an ironic word choice.
the fact that you aren’t ready in the slightest to be a parent when you’re still growing up yourself is one thing. it’s another that this could ruin the most important relationship you’ve ever had.
no, tom won’t be mad. he’s never once fought with or even raised his voice at you. in your times of need, he’s been the one to uplift you and kiss your puffy cheeks dry. no matter how he takes this, you know it won’t be out on you. he is half responsible.
but, with how you left things the last time you spoke, you’re not sure you’ll be able to get past it.
tom is alarmingly good at hiding how he truly feels. you always tease him that it’s because he’s a gemini. he’ll come back with shut up, i’m an actor and stick his nose in the air to give you the full image. in all seriousness, it does take a toll on how well he can communicate.
you’ve seen it in small ways, like when he brings you along for press days and uses unenthusiastic smiles to cover up his yawns. how he’ll be polite in a conversation with people he’d rather not speak to, then mumble about it once you’re home. he tries to put forward the “appealing” parts of himself even though he’s more than them.
tom’s biggest communication issue is that he’s been in love with you since year nine and hasn’t said a word about it. you’ve yet to figure that one out.
you two became friends while tom was starring in billy elliot. his schedule was so scattered between shows and school, so he struggled to balance both. he often had to stay late for extra help on the lessons. you’d also been there a few times. you worked better in the classroom, and he was grateful he didn’t have to be alone with the teacher.
most kids made fun of tom for his interest in theater, to his face and behind his back. not you. you thought it was just incredible that someone in your own classes worked at the west end. you’d told him on your way home one night.
he’d heard you before he saw you. “you’re tom, right?” you asked from behind him, the two of you making your way through the hall. the question sounded friendly, and it wasn’t every day kids were nice to him. tom stopped walking so you could catch up. “yes, and you are?” you gave him a small smile, books clutched to your chest. he instantly returned it.
“y/n. i heard you’re in billy elliot?” you laughed at your understatement, then corrected yourself. “that you are billy elliot, i mean. that’s so cool.” “oh, i am. thank you,” he chuckled back, a full grin taking over his face. you were both walking again, you by tom’s side. “i was hoping to come see you soon.” your voice got quieter as you told him, like you were nervous.
tom never had much luck with girls, not at this point in his life. this was an opportunity to change that. at the very least, to make a new friend. he offered something you said yes to without a beat of hesitation. “what if i got you the tickets?”
from then on, you began talking during class and not only when it ended. tom really knew how to keep the conversation going, telling story after story that left you laughing so much your teacher would shush you. you’d eventually moved to hangouts at either of your houses. harrison came into the mix at some point, the three of you forming your own group.
the difference between tom and harrison was that while harrison linked with other girls, tom was only interested in you. he’d gotten a crush on you pretty fast, if he was being honest. it might have been your shared sense of humor or the way you said his name.
thomas, when he was being cheeky. tommy, which took the place of a pet name. even regular tom. that might have been his favorite. he loved how it rolled off your tongue. he loved, and still loves, you.
you’d gone to all of tom’s performances you possibly could, the ones for school theater included. you also gave him the push to take his talents to hollywood. tom was afraid he wasn’t cut out for the big screen, that he needed more practice and experience first. you told him that if this was what he wanted to do, he had to start somewhere. why wait?
tom then landed his first movie role in the impossible at the age of fifteen. he’d received tons of praise and almost gotten nominated for an academy award, all because you convinced him to audition. you played a huge part in keeping him grounded when he was between films, and caught him up on whatever schoolwork he’d missed.
you practically zoomed to tom’s house when he was announced as the next spider-man. you’d been constantly refreshing every social media platform marvel was on since tom became a finalist for the part. that process was probably the most difficult experience he’s ever gone through. you’d know, having heard all about it from tom.
the two of you celebrated along with the rest of tom’s family that night. you kept giving him little proud of you squeezes on his shoulder or knee. tom is eternally indebted to you for being the most supportive of everything he does.
he of course sends the support right back. although he went down the movie star path, acting wasn’t for you. you’d gone off to university and studied hard as hell and aced all your shit. tom quizzed you on material whenever you needed. he wanted to help you somehow, and this was all you’d let him do.
he’d offered to pay off your loans and any other expenses necessary because he had the money to do that now. you refused every single time, not trying to become dependent on him. he admired your drive, yet hated it at the same time. everything you’d done for him, it was his turn to be the caretaker. it should’ve been.
whenever tom wrapped filming for the holidays and came back home, you were always preparing for final exams. he kept you company, content with simply being in your presence. you typed away on your keyboard and read over notes until your eyes burned. tom occasionally brought you snacks, tea, asked how you were and what he could do.
sometimes, he would have to cut your study time short. he’d say it wasn’t healthy or you were overdoing it and to come relax with him for a bit. other times, tom let you be. he didn’t want to get in the way of your already stressful assignments. those were the nights you’d fall asleep in front of your laptop. drool on your chin, hunched over at your desk.
tom made sure to tuck you in, press a light kiss to whatever part of your face wasn’t covered in spit, then let himself out. he knew where your spare key was, so he used that. you’d wake up to a “Fell asleep studying again. Rest today x” text the next morning.
when it came time for you to graduate, tom was on the first flight there. it was during another round of reshoots for chaos walking. he respectfully told doug that he’d have to work around his schedule or replace him, which couldn’t be done so late into filming. tom didn’t care that it made him seem like a prick. he was getting to you no matter what he had to do.
he’d earned plenty of stares and whispers from people as he took his seat in the crowd. he was a proper celebrity now, so he expected it. his solution was to ignore everything and chat with your family about how proud they were of you, tom the most. he saw you go from a kid attempting algebra equations to an adult at her uni graduation. you’ve really grown up together.
it was why he teared up hearing them call your name, seeing you beam as you walked across the stage. your mom grabbed his hand and nodded at him, like she could tell exactly what was going through his head.
you ran right up to tom after the ceremony was over, leaping into his arms. he let out a couple of chuckles as he spun you around. “i didn’t think you’d make it,” you’d admitted, happy yet sad tears in your eyes. tom put you down so he could pull you in for a real hug. “i’ll always be wherever you are, y/n,” he said into your ear, rocking you while you gripped at his suit collar.
flash forward to a year later, your career is finally taking off, tom’s is flourishing like it has been for years, and you’re pregnant with his child. you’re trying to recall the series of events that led you to this moment.
you were both drunk, blackout drunk because the only reason you remember sleeping together is that you woke up naked in the same bed. harrison’s bed.
he threw a housewarming party for himself, having recently moved out of tom’s and the other boys’ place. the three of them, sam, and you were all in attendance, along with a lot of others you hadn’t met.
neither you nor tom could figure out where he knew all those people from. he’d clinged to you two for the most part, more so you now with tom usually away. they could have been from work. harrison is breaking into the business himself, small roles here and there. tom actually met him in your school’s theater program, then he introduced him to you, ten years ago already.
sam entertained himself by making concoctions with the snacks harrison set out. harry got together a playlist for the party. harrison and tuwaine struck up a conversation with some of harrison’s actor friends. that left you and tom alone, out of stuff to do, and with one way to fix it.
“drink?” tom had asked you, a smirk playing on his lips. “love one,” you hummed back and set off for the kitchen. the two of you raided harrison’s liquor cabinet, grabbing his biggest bottle of wine. he’d dumbly pointed it out during the house tour he gave you before the other guests arrived.
you were about to search for glasses, but tom’s fingers threaded through yours. he gently tugged you away and nodded behind him. “let’s bring this upstairs. seems much more fun there,” he’d murmured over the music, a grin breaking across your face.
tom is big on clubbing and socializing, however, you aren’t. he comes up with ways to get you out of these events, just in case.
“we can break in harrison’s bed for him,” you said as a completely harmless joke, no intentions of that becoming your reality later on. spoiler alert: it did. “and how are we gonna do that?” tom quirked a suggestive eyebrow and breathed out a laugh as you dragged him towards the stairs. despite yourself, you’d giggled at his words.
not one drink in either of you yet, and you were stumbling and cracking up as you ran upstairs. you’d pulled tom by your still attached hands into what you remembered as harrison’s room. tom shut the door, locked it, saying under his breath that would be a “convenient investment” for him to make as well.
he took out a bottle opener that he must have put in his pocket at some point and got to work on your wine, you getting comfortable on the new mattress. the two of you passed it to the other after every sip, tom licking the taste of your lip gloss off his own lips every so often.
the equivalent of three drinks in, you were making out. both of you were just tipsy at this point, tom holding you by your hips as you lied down, your legs around his waist. god, he could’ve done this sober. he’d dreamed about kissing you, really kissing you since he was fourteen. you’d always felt like you two had something more. ah, there it was.
halfway through the bottle got you past the next two bases, and you were ready for the fourth and ultimate one by the time you shook the last few drops onto the tip of your tongue. tom groaned at the sight of that, drawing your half naked body in closer to his.
you two had forgotten to use protection in each of your drunken states. without a doubt, you both would’ve agreed to a condom had your minds not been everywhere but where they should have.
you’d woken up first the morning after, panic immediately coursing through your veins thicker than blood. a fully nude and sleeping tom had you in his embrace, arms secured around your middle, facing you. you gasped when you made the connection, loudly enough to wake tom up. his long eyelashes tickled your face, a confused pout on his lips. uh... um...
“did we fucking...” you trailed off, no words to describe whatever unfolded. “fuck?” tom finished for you. a very blunt explanation, but true nevertheless. “looks like it,” he rasped, pout changing into a smile. your face fell at the vague memories of how you spent your night.
you definitely wanted to do it. just, he’s your best friend, who’s seen you at your least sexy moments over the years. when you were sick, had breakdowns from stress, you name literally anything, tom was there. it took one bottle of cheap wine for him to forget that?
the real answer was no. tom is entirely in love with you, for a decade at that. you were beginning to discover you feel the same, only you had no idea he already loves you. you’d assumed this was meant to be merely a hookup. from the frown your face held, he’d thought you were regretting it. oh, were you both so wrong.
“um... we don’t have to talk about it,” tom told you halfheartedly, under the impression that’s what you preferred. you physically felt yourself get weaker in tom’s strong arms. he’s not interested. “yeah, that’s probably for the best. i...” you were lying. his heart shrunk, shriveled up inside his chest. she doesn’t love me like that.
“you have to go. aren’t you behind on some emails?” tom hoped you didn’t hear his voice strain from the tears pushing at his eyes. “right. almost forgot, thanks.” you’d plastered on a smile, slipping out of his grasp. a tear rolled down his cheek, so he wiped it away before you noticed. you’d already gotten out of the bed and begun picking your clothes up off the floor.
“i’ll drive you home, then.” he rolled on to his other side, you thought so he could give you privacy to change. it was that, and also because he was crying. he couldn’t hold it in. tom is naturally an emotional person. imagine finding out the love you’ve had almost half your life is unreciprocated. it’s soul crushing.
you two found harrison snoring and on top of tuwaine as you left the house. no silly remarks or shared glances for the first time in ten years. tom couldn’t muster anything up, and you felt numb.
the drive was painful. you’d said your goodbyes after tom pulled up to the curb, which held an odd weight to them. once you were out of the car, a sob wracked through him, banging on the steering wheel and not giving a shit about the loud horn going off. you collapsed face first onto your bed. hours passed by while you stared at nothing and contemplated everything.
since it happened, you haven’t spoken much. small talk over text every few days or so, both of you pretending things are normal for the other’s sake. about a month later, today, is when you found out you’re pregnant.
there’s no use wallowing in any of this. you need to figure out your next move, one that should probably involve tom. first, you want to talk to someone else. you want other opinions and a voice in your head that isn’t your own. harrison gets a text from you saying to come over now, the now in all caps. he does.
you let him in after the second knock, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. however torn you are, you must look it. shirt balled in your fists, lip quivering. he keeps his eyes on yours as he steps inside, pushing the door shut behind him. this is all becoming too real. “y/n, are you okay?”
you’re about to cry in three, two...
“haz, i fucked up,” you choke out, tears unable to stay at bay. he takes you into his arms for a hug. half your face is hidden in his shoulder, hands clutching at his back. he lets you cry it out, holding you until your heavy breathing steadies. “what’s happened?” harrison asks quietly, both of you leaving the hug.
“if- if i tell you, you can’t freak out. you can’t tell anyone else, either,” you instruct, searching his eyes for certainty that he won’t under any circumstances. “i won’t, y/n/n,” he assures you and puts an encouraging hand on your arm. your heart pounding abnormally fast, you spit it out. your first time saying it aloud. “i’m pregnant.”
harrison flinches and doesn’t even try to conceal it. he takes his hand off of you, worry swimming across his features. he blinks at you, unsure of what to say. you’d react the same way, maybe worse, so you don’t blame him. a discussion you, him, and tom had a couple years back replays in his mind.
the three of you were talking about your futures, seeing as you were close to living them. when tom asked you two where you stood on having your own families, you didn’t hesitate to answer. “nope, the factory is closed for a long ass time.” until you were in your thirties, you aimed to focus on yourself. harrison distinctly remembered because of how you phrased it.
“you’re... you... wow,” is all he replies with. you head over to the couch, more tears welling up in your eyes. do the pregnancy hormones act up this early? harrison follows you over and sits down next to you with an awkward clearing of his throat. “do you want to be pregnant?” he has to ask because he’s not sure if he should congratulate you or what.
“i don’t know,” you answer honestly, voice airy. your eyes are fixed on the wall in front of you. you haven’t given yourself time to think about it. there are so many reasons you don’t, and a single one you do. “do you, um, know who the dad is?” harrison glances over at you. “yeah.” your voice cracks. you’re both afraid for him to ask what he does next.
he shifts so he’s sitting up. “can i know?” a sniffle passing through you, you finally look at him. “it’s tom,” you say it before you lose the nerve to. harrison’s face doesn’t change this time. he isn’t surprised you and tom went there. he’d seen your friendship growing into more the older you all got. what he can’t believe is where it took you.
his best friend pregnant, and his other best friend responsible for it.
“when did you...” “at your party,” you explain, bringing your legs up so they’re criss cross on the couch. “i thought you were gone a little too long.” he says that to try cheering you up. you appreciate the effort, but it doesn’t work. you’re not in a joking mood. he’ll stick to the main issue. “so, have you told him?”
“clearly not,” you scoff, not at him but at what you two have gotten yourselves into. “y/n... i think you should tell him,” harrison sighs out, then adds, “whether you keep it or not.” “why? that would ruin everything, it already has.” you’re getting angry now, which plunges you into angry crying, voice unsteady as you go on.
“the last time i saw tom was that night, and i guess it meant more to me than it did to him because we haven’t talked about it at all. he didn’t want to.” you swipe the back of your hand across your eyes, gaze stern compared to harrison’s soft one.
he drapes an arm around your shoulders, you curling into him with another sniffle. he doesn’t say anything for a minute, then he tries again. “i know you, y/n, and i know tom. you’ll kill yourselves not talking about this.” he’s right, no shit he is. avoiding telling tom how you feel, and your pregnancy on top of that, it’s eating you up inside. it’s swallowing you whole.
“what if he doesn’t want to be a dad? or- or i’m a shit mum?” you croak out, your doubts getting the best of you. “i can barely take care of myself. what am i supposed to do with a baby?” you’re leaning forward with your hands pressing into your temples. harrison’s hand moves to your upper back. “i- i don’t think i should have them. i... we can’t,” you conclude.
“tom loves kids,” he gives you a gentle reminder. “why would his own be the exception?” another good point, yet you still have rebuttles. “right, he’s a godfather and he’s really good with them and all that, but i’m not the right person, and it’s a terrible time,” you tell him all at once, in a rush to get your words out before harrison’s sway you.
“he’s never around, i’m doing my own stuff. we’re not meant for this.” you lift your head out of your hands and sit back on the couch. harrison returns his hands to his lap. he’s frowning at you, which you see from the corner of your eye. “i’m not going to force you to have the baby. just saying you have options.”
yeah, really shitty ones.
“either way, talk to tom.” harrison says this more like a demand so you’ll take his advice into actual consideration. “at least about the hookup.” your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes watering for the nth time already.
you have no choice because he’s right again. you’ll never move on from what happened unless you and tom address it.
the next morning, you do what harrison told you to and invite tom over. he replied saying he was on his way maybe a minute later. he’s nervous to see you because yeah, but more so looking forward since it’s been so long. you’re so nauseous you barely have room for nerves. it’s morning sickness with a hint anxiety.
it feels almost normal when he first gets here, no how’ve you been and what are you up to these days? being as close as you and tom are, you’re not capable of such a dry conversation. personally, you still feel uneasy while he recounts a golfing incident him and harry got into the other day. you know something he doesn’t.
“when i tell you we flew, we flew,” tom makes a pushing forward motion with both hands. “right into the tree. i think harry, like, dented part of his face.” he lets out a breathy laugh, you forcing out one of your own. you’d be more interested without the fact that you’re expecting a child, his child, at the back of your mind.
tom exhales, shifting to face you on your couch. it’s funny how different things were when you and harrison sat in these same spots yesterday. so much has and is about to change.
“they had to send another golf cart to come get us. it was wild.” “it sounds wild,” you hollowly agree. he can tell you’re not too invested in hearing about harry’s terrible driving skills, so he changes the subject. “anyway, harrison told me he came over last night?” your stomach drops, heat coming over your whole body.
“did... did he say why?” you murmur with a look of urgency in your eyes. tom shrugs a shoulder, and casually. there’s no way he knows. “no, was he supposed to?” his tone stays playful, which you can thankfully tell. that puts you more at ease. “no. no, never mind. i would’ve asked you to come, but...” you’re searching through your catalog of excuses.
thank god tom says something else because you can’t find a good one. “it’s alright. i actually, um, had a work call.” a small smile spreads across his face, a proud one. intrigued, you raise both eyebrows. “what’d you talk about?” tom twiddles with his fingers in his lap. “i’ve been offered an audition for this really amazing film. everything works out, it’ll be huge for me.”
you’re smiling back this time, putting a hand over one of his. “woah, that’s incredible. i’m so happy for you, tom.” you lock your fingers with his from the back of his hand. he looks down at them, humbly shaking his head. “when is it?” “a few weeks from today. it films in brazil...”
oh. you can’t tell him now. it’s not worth him missing out on a milestone in his career for a baby you’re not sure you should have. that would be so unfair of you to ask. what are you going to do, not support his dreams for the first time in a literal decade? and, you’d call yourself his best friend through it all?
you guess this also means the way you feel about tom is one sided. he’s okay with leaving you after the most intimate moment you two have ever shared. you’ll dance around it the rest of your lives. better yet, act like the night never even happened. that’s not so easy to do when you’ve got a permanent reminder of it.
the thought makes you sick to your stomach. so sick, you could...
while tom is talking more about what the audition entails, you suddenly bolt up from the couch. you run for the bathroom, a hand cupped over your mouth. his face twists up in confusion from your disappearance. tom calls, “y/n/n?” out to you, but you can’t respond because your head is in the toilet. he rushes in when he hears you retching.
he gets onto the floor with you. you’re bent over, puking your guts out, back in another place where your life changed forever less than twenty four hours ago. tom pulls your hair out of your face and into a makeshift ponytail with one hand, his other on your back. that’s all you have in you. you stay over the toilet just to be sure.
saliva drips from your mouth, making you cough roughly, the sound echoing. tom moves so he’s next to you, keeping his hand in your hair and not caring one bit about the smell because he loves you and he’s utterly concerned about what he witnessed.
“love, are you sick?” he coos, searching for your eyes. they water from the intensity of everything. “morning sickness,” you answer without thinking first. shit. shit, shit, shit. it came out of you like more vomit, word vomit. there’s no going back now.
tom lets go of your hair with his eyes still on yours. his hand on your back then leaves you, fingers trailing down your body as they go. “morning sickness,” he repeats, putting it together. “you’re pregnant?” guilt taking over your features, you sit across from tom. you’re once again leaning against the bathtub, him against the counter.
“this isn’t how i wanted you to find out,” you admit and bring your knees up to your chest. “i took a test yesterday. it was positive.” your arms wrap around your legs, you now tearing up because tom figured it out. a shaky breath passes his lips. “i haven’t gone to my doctor or anything yet, but i-“
“are you keeping the baby?” tom cuts in. not to judge you for your choice, to find out what the fuck is going on before he travels across the world. you tighten your arms around yourself, grabbing your wrist. “i haven’t decided.” he gives you an understanding nod and reaches out for you. you dodge him. he might not want to do that after what you say next.
“tom, i... there’s more,” you whimper out. “yeah. i’m... i’m listening,” tom croaks, unable to hold in his infinite amount of emotions for a multitude of reasons. he’s losing you a second time. more tears spill from your eyes as you break the news, the news that will destroy what he’s been working towards his entire life.
“the baby is yours.” his face relaxes, looking almost relieved when you confess it. “when we slept together, uh,” you’re sure it’s obvious enough that you don’t have to go over the details. he’s tearing up himself. you reluctantly continue. “if you still want to audition, i get it. we don’t have to do this.”
“fuck the audition. fuck the whole movie. all of my movies, really,” tom surprises you by blurting out. he moves in until your legs are touching. “i’m staying. even if you don’t have the baby, i have to be here.” you watch in disbelief as he wipes away what are actually happy tears. “really? i was scared you’d resent me for it, or hate me even,” you mumble to him.
“y/n, what? why would i ever do that?” tom places a hand on your cheek, touch gentle and filled with love. you part your legs so he can be closer to you. he takes the space between them, thumb brushing over your skin. “i didn’t think you’d want to deal with all of this. i thought that night was only a hookup for you.” your voice wobbles under his gaze.
“no, are you kidding? i thought that’s what you thought.” he’s smiling now, eyes twinkling along with it. what he’s been meaning to tell you since you were only kids finally comes out. “i’ve loved you as long as i’ve known you, y/n. i always imagined myself doing this with you.” his words draw a quiet laugh from you, a happy one. “i know we were drunk, but i meant it all.”
the sincerity in his voice, the warmth in his eyes, they make you cry all over again. you’re getting used to it.
“i love you, tom,” you lean into him with a sniffle and a grin, his forehead now resting on yours, using his thumb to catch one of your tears. “i really do.” “i love you forever. i always have,” tom speaks lowly, breath fanning across your face. your hands grab at his shoulders. “so, you’ll stay? you’ll do this with me?” he reminds you of what he said before, this time a promise.
“forever.”
-
you ended up having the baby, and tom held your hand through the entire labor. nikki was holding his other hand, your mom holding your other hand. harrison had originally been in the room as well. when you started to push, he got freaked out and had to leave. your support system remained strong either way.
despite his repulsion of your daughter’s birth, you and tom decided to make harrison her godfather. he eventually became the godfather of your other two children also, which you had a few years later.
tom took a paternity leave from the industry so he could be with you and jamie. he’d also used his time off to propose to you, something else he fantasized about since year eleven in school. it wasn’t anything too grand because the whole world was already buzzing about you two, and a big gesture felt too impersonal with everything you’d been through together.
he did it in the form of passing a note, something you often did in class to avoid being scolded by your teacher for talking. the note came with a pencil to check off either the yes or no box, “will you marry me?” written above them. anyone else would have found it so unromantic, but you giggled as you checked off yes before your lips crashed into his smiling ones.
you were married shortly after the proposal, jamie as your flower girl and all your friends and family in attendance.
to do what he loved and stay with the people he loved, tom created his own version of hollywood in london. he took it upon himself to assemble a team and make a production company. harry behind the camera, harrison and tuwaine in the films, and tom either starring alongside them or directing. they give so many young actors tons of opportunities.
you eventually went back to work, too. it was like you’d never left, coworkers offering endless hugs and going over what you missed, not that you struggled getting into it. tom was there to celebrate every promotion, every compliment from your boss, every part of your life. jamie was also there, then liam and lucy.
all three of them are running around the house right now, putting on shoes and collecting their supplies for school. you take a sip of the orange juice liam didn’t finish with a lighthearted eye roll. tom chuckles as he passes you in the kitchen, getting the kids’ lunchboxes for them to minimize the chaos.
“you have that pitch meeting today, right?” he slips his hands through the lunchbox handles and walks over to you. “mhm,” you hum, mouth full with juice. his lips press to your temple, giving your waist a one handed squeeze. “you’ll smash it. always do.” “thanks, tommy.” putting down the cup, you reach up to button whatever parts of his shirt he didn’t have time to.
“aren’t you doing a casting? for the new script they sent?” you wonder aloud and smooth down the cotton material. “me and harry. should be interesting,” he remarks, you giving him a quick kiss back on his chin. they tend to have their artistic differences. “good luck with that. you do drop off, i’ll do pick up?” you pat one of the lunchboxes around his arms.
“deal.” tom goes in for a kiss on your lips, then a chorus of dad, we have to go led by jamie rings through the house. with a knowing smile, you push at his chest. “see you later. love you.” “love you, holland,” he bites back a grin of his own. his last name, now yours, suits you perfectly.
#tom holland#tom holland fluff#tom holland smut#tom holland x you#tom holland x reader#tom holland x y/n#tom holland fic#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland imagine#tom holland au#peter parker#peter parker fluff#peter parker smut#peter parker imagine#peter parker x reader#marvel
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shut in [14]
Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)
Warnings: anxiety, violence, guns, death, ptsd, swearing, abuse
Word count: 6.3k
A/N: last chapter you guys :’’’’) im too emo about a fanfic i s2g. there’s an epilogue but this is the official last chapter.
i really appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!
Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist
You had only heard of the warehouse before, never actually seen it.
Its reputation preceded it. It was only mentioned in passing as a place for the worst of the worst.
It was murky and smelled like rust, concrete and rotting corpses. You had no doubt a few of them would be littering the place. A few tube lights shone over you graciously like a spotlight, barely illuminating the area.
The room you were in was utterly silent. The only exception were noises outside the door; loud shouts and clanging of metal. You assumed it to be people in the other rooms. Your assessment on how tight the ropes were coiled around you earned a few grunts and odd squeaks, but nothing major.
You were bound to a chair, of course, with knots you had used before on others. It felt like a convoluted form of irony. It was firmly nailed to the ground to prevent you from using it against captors. You were gagged; pretty well, by the look of it.
A noise from beside you threw you off track. A quick look to your left and you found Sam in a similar predicament. He shook his head slightly, implying that it was useless to find an opening. At least he was alive and breathing.
“Are you done?” A voice came from behind you, echoing within the four walls. “I really want to get going and you’re taking too long.”
You knew who it was. It was impossible for you to mistake it at this point.
“Don’t mind the noise outside. We’re just torturing a bunch of people to death.”
You roll your eyes out of sheer instinct. The footsteps slowly moved towards the front of the room, heavy and deliberate. The expensive material of his suit shone under the light as he edged in front of you. Only he’d wear Armani to a murder.
The dramatic fuck clearly rehearsed it.
“Hey Buttercup,” Ransone smiled, distinctly proud of himself. Your bite on the bundle of cloth haphazardly shoved in your mouth tightened. “Been waitin’ on you for a while now. Wilson’s no good company.”
You sneak a glance at Sam’s side profile and he looks relatively untouched. There were a few cuts on his face that you could make out under the harsh light but that was it.
“You can’t get out of those, if you're wondering.” He gestured to your current set up. “I told you, Sam. I save my warehouse for special guests. All your fun tools are gone. Took ‘em when you were brought in.”
As your eyes adjusted to the lighting, you faintly make out the presence of two men in the corners of the room, stiff as cardboard. His security.
“Oh! Except this.” He brandished the paper airplane you had brought with you in the utility belt. He’d use anything to potentially get a rise out of you.
“Gettin’ sentimental now, are we?” He tested the tip of the plane with his finger.
You prayed he wouldn’t destroy it. It had more value than he was willing to bet on.
“You must be asking yourselves why you ended up here,” Ransone mused, looking at the plane from all angles. “No need to worry, I’ll tell you.”
You didn't expect anything less from him. Everything about this felt cinematic; the inconvenient lighting, the men standing in the corner. This man oozed drama over efficiency.
“When I was just starting out, people warned me. Told me I wasn’t going to get anywhere, that we’d always stay in the same position because that’s how it’s been for all these years.” He tested the plane, holding onto the body sturdily.
“There were too many big names already. We were one of them, of course. My father did a good job of giving us a solid foundation.” He pulled his wrist back like he was going to launch it, only to never actually do it. He carried it through the air, simulating its flight pattern.
“You remember my father, don’t you? The guy who cut off someone’s finger because they didn’t finish the job.” Ransone really only had one story to tell about his father and he worked it to death. Other than a few handful of times, his father never bothered about his presence much from what you heard. He favoured the ones who were brutal and Ransone- well, he was a glorified theatre kid.
“Of course you do. He was an incredible man.” He laughed crisply. “But he had no real ambition. No drive. I told him we could have been at the top, the ones parents warn their kids about. He didn’t listen to me. He never really paid attention.”
His tone got wistful in the end, eyes distant like he was living the scene out in his head.
“So obviously when he died, I had the chance to really make a difference. Really set us apart. Ten Rings and Hydra had their own niche; they had some ties with the military and the government and whatnot. Crazy motherfuckers, all of them.” He shook his dead in distaste. “But Serpentine- that was closer to home. Same market as us.”
You wondered how long he would take to get to the point. The only distraction you had were the noises that continued outside. An odd gunshot here and there really pulled your attention away from the story.
“Serpentine with their stupid code names. They really thought they were all that.” He sounded embarrassingly like a bitchy teenager. “Who do they think they were fooling with the Norse Gods thing, huh? Naming your leader Odin, his wife Frigga.”
“I fucking hated them,” he spat, face twisting into anger. “Told them to watch out, that I’d end their legacy. They laughed in my face.”
He spun around, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he pointed to Sam, “That’s where you come in.”
Sam looked thoroughly irritated with the show that was going on in front of him. If he wasn’t gagged you had no doubt he’d have a few comments to pass. Ones that would get the both of you killed.
“I told you to kill their leader. One job. You fucked that up.” Sam recalling the story of his first mission flashed in your memory. “Let that old nutjob into your head and allowed him to escape. We didn’t know where he was for years.”
“I let it go because I thought Serpentine was done for. Radio silence after Odin disappeared. And they were, until a few years ago when I get news that they have a new leader. Odin’s son, the new heir.” He waved around his hands, mocking the last part of his sentence. “Word on the street was that he wanted to kill whoever murdered his mother in front of his eyes.”
“I thought that was hilarious. You know why?” He laughed humourlessly. “Because that was you. You were the one who killed his mother. You remember that? Your big mission?”
“You killed my mom,” he jeered, unmoving.
“I’m sorry. I had to.” Your voice was quiet. Your hand clutched at the hood of the car to keep your balance. “But I don’t want to hurt you. Go.”
“He wasn’t supposed to be there. No one had even heard of him. His brother’s too soft to take on anything like this. He’s some farmer in England now. But he was supposed to be Odin’s only son. Yet somehow, the only person who could have known this other son existed and actually seen him… was you.”
“Turns out he’s like you. A secret adoption. No record of him anywhere.” You didn’t blink, not once taking your eyes off him in case he decided to go wild. “He should have died that day. You were supposed to kill them.”
Only Ransone would justify killing a kid because it fit his agenda. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before, and though he tried very hard to shove his ideology onto you, you never complied.
“Goes by Loki now, another stupid codename. Trained by his father who this idiot let go of.” He gestured to Sam callously, “and mad about the murder of his mother that you committed. Serpentine came back pretty quickly after he took control.”
A particularly loud sound of metal slamming would have made you jump had you not been tied down. Ransone swung around in anger, loudly cursing at them for ruining his train of thought. He muttered some more curses under his breath before plastering a fake smile on his face and continuing.
“I’ll admit, he’s a sneaky one. But they grew faster than any other cartel. They somehow knew all our connections, all our targets, our key players. It wasn’t possible,” he shook his head low as he paced up and down slowly. You knew where this was headed. “Unless we had someone giving them information from the inside.”
He stops to look at you.
“I would have forgiven you, Y/N, I really would. You know how I am about second chances.” He looked at you, eyebrows upturned with regretful eyes. “But then you had to go and spy on me for two years.”
You could see Sam turn to you from the corner of your eye, assessing your reaction. You didn't extend the same courtesy to him. You didn’t have any reaction.
“We found out very late, of course. I taught you well,” he chided, his inescapable narcissism making an appearance once more. “But then we had to figure out why. Why you’d betray me and everything I’ve done for you.”
“I still can’t figure that out.” You wanted to scream at him, everything he had taken away from you, everything he forced you to be. “I treated you the best out of everyone I had. You had the best training, the best resources. You wouldn’t have made it anywhere if I didn’t drag you out of that shithole orphanage.”
You had heard of blissfully ignorant, but he was well beyond that at this point.
“Didn’t take too long to connect the dots. What, with Wilson’s great act of charity and your lack of better judgement, both of you managed to fuck up enough to screw me over years later.”
“I initially was only going to have you killed, Buttercup,” he admitted nonchalantly, like your life had no value. “But then we found out that Sam’s been lying to me for a long time too. Been hidin’ his friend a few states away.”
“It was meant to be,” he cooed. “Such a similar past. You could have met each other before, you know? Pierce wouldn’t be the first time you were at the same house on the same day.”
You couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like if you had known Sam earlier. Would you have been friends or would you have been forced to kill each other in his sick ‘survival of the fittest’ game?
“It felt poetic to have you both die together, you know? On a mission gone wrong. A full circle.” God, he spent too long planning something elaborate when he could have just put a bullet in your head and ended you the day he found out. Fucking weirdo.
“Made sure I sent you to the same place at the same time. Pierce was dead long before you came, the poor fuck. But then again, collateral damage. No mercy.” He shrugged. “Had everyone at the ready. You should have died that night.”
“But like everything you do,” his voice suddenly rose like a child throwing a tantrum, “you fucked that up for me too. Escaped with his stupid fucking car.”
“None of those useless agents could find you. How could they?” The beauty was that Ransone must have spent too long looking when you were basically right there, just miles away. “You didn’t go to one of our locations and Serpentine hides their safehouses well.”
You still remembered the relief when the door accepted your fingerprint.
It was a long shot but you didn't have anywhere else to go. You weren’t even sure that this house existed.
Another loud crash arrived from the outside with noises that sounded like more gunshots, making Ransone jump this time. Just how many people were being tortured here?
“Keep the volume down, you stupid fucking imbeciles!” he screeched, pounding at the metal door. The decibel reduced, but still continued on.
He dragged his palm across his face in exasperation, talking under his breath to himself. He shook his head before turning back to you.
"Oh, by the way, don't think about escaping. Got every last one of my best agents out here after that stunt you pulled at Pierce’s house,” he says offhandedly.
He takes a second to regroup, get back into character.
“So we released your pictures to the public. Can’t go very far if people are looking for you constantly. It was the only way we could get you to stay in one place.” Ransone raised his shoulders casually. “We had every lowlife out there waiting for one of you to show up.”
“We eventually had someone report Wilson in a town a while away from Pierce. I was making my way there but then you sent me your location on your own. Had men outside your house that night.” He paused, peering at the plane in his hand.
He finally let it go, watching as it barely went any distance before nose diving to the ground. Your eyes trailed after it, hoping he wouldn’t crush it with his foot.
“This is the worst fucking paper plane I’ve ever seen. The balance is completely off.” He stared at it in wonder, picking it up again and shoving it back into his pocket. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. “Anyway one of them heard you talkin’ about how you’re leaving the next day so we just got ready at the door.”
“Et voila.” He grinned, spreading his arms. “Here we are. Brilliant, wasn’t it?”
Unnecessarily long, but you weren’t going to complain.
“Oh, I forgot you can’t talk.” His mouth quirked downwards into a ‘whoops’.
He took a long pause right in front of you before his hand reached out to cradle your face. “I wouldn’t let those idiots kill you, Buttercup. You deserved better than that.”
He stared unnervingly into your eyes, looking for a hint of anything, any sort of remorse. He wasn’t going to find any. You wished he saw nothing but hatred.
“It’s why I had to kill you myself.” He sighed when you pulled your face away the best you could from his palm in disgust. “But I’ll do you a solid. I’ll give you a chance to beg for forgiveness. Maybe if you’re good enough I’ll let you go.”
You knew he was lying. He had no intention of doing that. He only wanted you to grovel in submission, plead for your life for a fucking power trip.
He ripped off the tape that was over your mouth, making you flinch at the burn. He pulled out the cloth faster than you could spit it out at him.
“Go ahead,” Ransone said smugly. His ego would outlive all of you.
“Him first.” Your mouth was dry and your lips felt chapped. You had clearly been knocked out for a while by then. You had no idea how far away you were from the original location.
“What?” His smile dropped to a frown rather quickly.
“Him first.” You mentioned towards Sam with your head.
“That’s cute.” He laughed, stopping when you didn’t join in. “Oh, you’re serious.”
“I’m not saying shit till he does too.” You were bemused, monotonous. You just wanted to get this over as quickly as possible.
“Fine,” he huffed when your expression didn’t change. “It’d be fun to watch him beg anyway.”
You hear the rip of the tape from his face, the scrunch of the material before he balled it up and threw it on the floor.
Sam shook his head furiously, forcing Ransone to take a step back swiftly before he hit him.
“Right.” Ransone clapped his hands together. “Let’s get star-”
He was interjected by another loud bang followed by a series of gunshots. Another victim massacred. He groaned in frustration, stamping his feet at the constant interruption. The universe was determined to not let him finish his monologue in peace, and for that, you thanked her.
You looked at Sam, nodding slightly. He gave you a small smile in return, calming the nerves you were beginning to feel.
“Where were we?” Ransone did not look happy; a vein was dangerously visible on his forehead. Now would not be the best time to do anything that angered him. “Yes, go ahead. Beg.”
“Ransone,” Sam began, exhaling lightly. “We knew.”
The smile on Ransone’s face faltered. “What did you say?”
“He said we knew,” you cut in. “You melodramatic fuck.”
Ransone’s grin faded abruptly and it was by far the most satisfying experience you had ever experienced.
“Yeah, we figured it out ourselves a while ago.” Sam had the slightest smirk on his face. “Y/N did, actually.”
“Fuck,” you cursed.
You could feel his muscle shift as he looked at you.
“What’s wrong?”
You opened your mouth but shut it again. How do you explain it to him without sounding utterly ridiculous?
“I need to tell you something and I need you to hear me out before saying anything,” you pulled away from him, shuddering at the sudden cold that enveloped you.
“I’m listening.”
“I think it’s Ransone. He’s been trying to kill us.”
“Why?” He didn’t sound judgemental, hardly even fazed, like it was a completely plausible suggestion. You couldn’t express how glad you were.
“The guy you didn't kill, if he’s the old head of Serpentine, then... I know his son.” Your mouth was dry as your mind raced to piece it together. “He’s the one I didn’t kill.”
“What?” Sam’s eyebrows furrowed, and you could see him trying to figure out the connection. “How are you so sure?”
You closed your eyes, letting out a deep exhale. “I’m going to need you to not react to what I’m going to tell you.”
“Okay...” he trailed off.
“I’ve been working with him for two years. Passing information on to him about Ransone.”
“Wait so that means-”
“I’m the spy. And I think Ransone figured it out. He wants to kill me.”
“You knew,” Ransone stated. He looked like he was in a daze.
Sam looked at you once before nodding. “If you would shut up and let someone else talk for once, we would have told you a while ago.”
“It helped that you confirmed details about Pierce’s death without us having to tell you.” The last conversation you had with him replayed in your head verbatim. “There’s no way you would have known he was dead before we got there unless we told you. Or you did it.”
“We knew you had agents outside the house. Kinda expected that when we gave you the address,” you shrugged the best you could, “Sam’s security cameras got all of them.”
“Made sure that one fuck behind the tree could hear us planning outside,” Sam added. “He wasn’t very stealthy, by the way.”
“Have you decided on a day?”
You nod, looking straight ahead into the darkness. “Tomorrow.”
“You sure? Our timing has to be right.”
“Yeah.” Your voice is coarse. “I’ll have to tell him.”
He nodded, leaning his elbows on his knees. He was too tall for the stairs, almost like he was crouching instead of sitting.
His voice dropped to a whisper like it’s a secret only meant for you.
“You knew you were going to be ambushed.”
“No shit.” You nodded.
The loud bangs continued outside the door but you paid no heed to it. The closer it got, the more your stomach jumped, hoping that more people you pissed off didn’t storm in. You had quite a list anyway.
“You knew they were coming,” Ransone appeared like he had gears turning in his own head, trying to add everything up on his own. “Then why didn’t you run?”
“Well, we kinda needed all of you in one place.”
“Huh?” He blinked, not listening to all the commotion that was going on around him. If he didn’t, he was choosing to focus on this instead.
“We had to take out all of you at once,” you disclosed, fidgeting with the rope to see if it would give. “Kinda knew you were waiting to kill us yourself when we gave you the location and nothing happened immediately. You’re too much of a sissy to kill us without backup so we wanted you in one place with the rest of them.”
You tilted your head towards the two men standing in the corner.
“You knew all this while and lied,” Ransone jeered, face twisting into something rather indiscernible; a nice mix of shame and rage.
“Not like we had another choice, man.” You just knew Sam was rolling his eyes. “You think I would voluntarily listen to you monologue like an idiot?”
“You did gag us,” you added, trying to buy as much time as you could. “That’s on you.”
The ropes were still tight as could be and the chair wouldn’t budge. Even your feet were too tightly tied together to do anything. It was what you expected, but that wasn’t going to stop you.
“Shut up!” Ranone’s face was hideously red.
“You rehearsed it, didn’t you?” Sam called out, taunt in his tone. “With the lighting and shit.”
“He doesn’t have to. He does one a week to some poor fuck who has to listen.”
You couldn’t believe the both of you were teaming up to bully a man who literally held the fate of your lives in his hands. It was something you never imagined yourself doing.
“How do people take you seriously?” Sam laughed. More than yours, his remarks seemed to be ticking Ransone off.
Ransone let out a guttural cry, knuckles so white you were afraid they were going to break. He whips around, stomping over to pull the gun from the hand of one of his bodyguards.
“Easy there, DeNiro, that’s not a stage prop.” Sam chided.
The concrete in front of him suddenly cracks loudly. He looked up, slightly taken aback.
“Next time it’ll be your fucking face,” Ransone snarled, waving the gun around like a maniac. You send a cautionary glance to Sam, telling him to back off. Ransone was volatile. He would act without thinking.
“Why did you kill everyone I was friends with, Vincent?” you asked slowly, trying to divert his mind.
He turned to you, a crazed look in his eyes.
“Why did you take everyone from me?” The more you asked, the more it became about genuine curiosity rather than a distraction from shooting Sam in the head.
“Take everyone from- none of them were going to last anyway!” He throws his hands up in the air angrily. “I was saving you from yourself. From the eventual pain.”
His face was desperate, and you for a second forced yourself to think from his perspective. He looked like he truly believed in what he was saying, like he genuinely thought he was supporting you. Like he cared. The thought that maybe he truly wanted to help you was the only way you could comfort yourself for so many years.
“If you were in pain, you wouldn’t perform. I was only pushing you to your full potential,” he continued, a wild smile on his face mixed with eyes rimmed red like he was ready to cry.
Your stomach sank, even though you hated it. It wasn’t about you, it was about what he could get from you.
There was silence. Even the noises outside seemed to have stopped, all waiting for your next move.
“You’re a sick, conniving fuck,” your words waver, and you hope it hits him as hard as it can, “And I can’t wait till you’re dead.”
His face morphed from one of helplessness to slow fury once more. Manipulative prick.
“Do I have to remind you that you’re the one tied up?” He wipes at his nose, voice returning to normal. “The only reason you’re alive right now is because I need to know why you let yourself be captured so willingly.”
Your incessant need to know everything stemmed from him and the paranoia he induced in you from when you were a kid. Everything you thought was wrong about you came from him.
“We told you, you overdramatic fuck.” Sam drew the attention away from you thankfully. You took a deep breath, stabilizing yourself.
“What, that you needed the team in one place to take us out?” Ransone asked, to no one’s answer. “You and what army?”
“Well, the one who’s been here for a while now,” you pipe up.
No one says anything. Pin drop silence reigns free.
“You said he’d be here,” Sam hissed at you. “How much longer do we keep this going?”
“He said he would,” you argued back, feeling the heat creep into your cheeks.
“What the fuck are you both talking about?” Ransone asked, but you continued to ignore him.
“What are we going to do if he-”
The door violently exploded off its hinges, sending debris flying everywhere. You clenched your eyes shut and ducked your head to avoid getting smacked in the face with rubble
The dust hadn’t even cleared before multiple rounds were fired. You flinched when your ringing ears hurt more at the sound of gunshots.
You struggle against your ropes, trying to get to Sam. They only get tighter until suddenly your arms break free. Your neck and legs soon follow as you shrug off the ropes that were cleanly sliced off.
Your ears were still getting used to the chaos when you notice someone humming behind you. It took a second to register that it was a fucking Britney Spears song.
“What took you so long?” You coughed, waving the air in front of you to clear it as you stumbled towards Sam.
“I wanted to make an entrance,” Loki said dismissively, following you. “I think I may have overshot it by a few seconds.”
You fell to your knees in front of Sam, quickly moving to untie the familiar knots. He lifted his head to look at you, a thin layer of dust covering his face.
“Are you okay?” you asked in concern, simultaneously untying as fast as you could. It was one you had used many times before; a complicated knot that guaranteed you wouldn’t have been able to make it out of the bondage.
“I think my leg’s asleep but other than that I’m good.”
You give him a small smile, thankful that he wasn’t hurt enough to lose his dry sense of humour. Your hand involuntarily reached up to brush some dust off his cheekbone. The intensity with which he looked at you had you swallowing thickly.
You snapped out of it quickly, working on freeing his legs as Loki took a step behind his chair to cut the rest of him loose.
“This him?” Sam mentioned to Loki, massaging his wrist to return some feeling into it.
“You can just ask me, you know,” Loki commented, but clearly not taking any offence.
“I’m sorry about your family, man.”
You didn’t expect Sam to say that, and from the looks of it, neither did Loki. He stopped for a moment, before continuing to cut the last rope.
“You let my father go,” he said, sawing the last part off, “and although I personally think you should have killed the miserable old bastard, he made it clear that he owed you one.”
The both of you stood up. You glanced around the room, noting how both of Ransone’s bodyguards were on the floor, bullet holes riddling their body.
He himself was beside them, lying facefront on the ground. Armani suit be damned.
“How many more are outside?” Sam asked, tearing your attention away from the bodies on the floor.
“All taken care of.” Loki put the knife back into its sheath on his thigh. “We made quite a commotion. I’m surprised he didn’t do anything.”
“He’s a little dense,” Sam remarked. Most of the noises you heard earlier weren’t just other victims being tortured, although you knew that it was still a large fraction of it.
“Should we go?” you asked, doing a quick sweep of the room. You found nothing moving among the pile of rubble.
“Unless you got anything else left to do.” Loki gestured to the large hole in the wall where the door was.
“I think we’re done.”
He simply nodded, spinning on his heel to walk out the room when someone yelled from behind you.
You all halted what you were doing, slowly turning to look at where the noise was coming from.
“Don’t take another step,” Ransone warned, a gun pointed straight at you, barely able to stand straight. He looked worse than you’d ever seen him. His suit was torn and he had a few streaks of blood down his face. His hair was tousled and unkempt, rougher than it had ever been before. “Or I swear I’ll-”
“Oh, shut up,” Loki interjected, firing a shot into Ransone’s stomach before anyone could even react. He returned the gun to its holster that you didn’t even notice was there on his waist. “He talks too much.”
Ransone staggered back until he hit the wall, knees buckling beneath his weight as he slid to the ground. The gun he pried off his bodyguards lay where he was standing previously.
You ignored Sam’s uneasy questions as you took a step forward.
You picked the gun up, cautiously making your way to Ransone. You crouched next to his body. He looked at you before looking down. You followed his line of sight, watching as he lifted his hands. They were covered in blood.
“How’d he know where to find you?” Ransone’s voice was more subdued than you’d ever heard him.
You reached over, slipping your fingers into his jacket pocket and pulled out the paper airplane that was flattened due to the impact.
“Hey, you can put a message in it. Maybe one of those button trackers, a microphone. The possibilities are endless.” He laughed, folding another one out of the limited supply of paper he had left.
You unfolded it, letting a small object, not bigger than a button, fall into your palm. He stared at it before realisation dawned on him.
“I knew you’d take all my weapons, but you wouldn’t get rid of this,” you disclosed, folding the paper plane back to what it was and gently putting it into your pocket. It was still salvageable. “Not if you could use it to hurt me.”
You watched him take a shaky breath, flinching when more blood rushed out of him.
“You can still help me, Y/N. We can get out of here together,” he rasped. “Think about everything we’ve been through. We can work it out. I love you.”
You involuntarily let out a strangled cry at the last part. It was nothing but a last ditch attempt to persuade you, pull you back in.
“Look- look at me. Buttercup,” he croaked when you wouldn’t oblige. “I love you. I’m your home.”
You finally look at him. Look right into his eyes, red rimmed and fading. You look for it, the adoration he spoke of. The care he promised. Anything to make sense of why he would tear you apart time and time again. The love he had for you.
You find nothing. Gray eyes look back at you blankly, desperately, in pain.
“You never were,” you whisper, standing up abruptly.
You raised your arm, pointing the gun at him. He sputtered out more half baked apologies, unaware of anything that was coming out of his own mouth.
You clench your eyes shut, pulling the trigger. He lets out a cry when the bullet lodges in his shoulder.
You take a step back, letting the scene imprint itself in your brain of him powerless on the ground at your will. If you followed what he preached, you’d have ended his life right there. No mercy.
But you weren’t him. And you didn’t ever want to be.
“I need to do something too,” you heard Sam say. You can feel him near you, brushing against you for a moment as he gently reached for the gun you held. You gave it to him, feeling him squeeze your hand in reassurance.
Ransone looked at Sam as he stood beside you. He fired a single shot into his leg, clearly hitting bone. You hear the same wail from before, mixed with sputtering as blood leaked from his mouth.
“That was from Riley. He says fuck you.” Sam let his hand fall again. “All yours, man.”
“You already know what this is for,” Loki said simply.
You chose not to look away as he shot the last round right into his forehead. Ransone’s head slumped over. Dead, glassy eyes stared beyond you.
None of you say anything. Just stare at the lifeless body in front of you.
“It’s really over, huh?” Sam’s voice is quiet, like he's having trouble processing what just happened.
You don’t answer. Only take a step towards him, and intertwine your fingers with his, continuing to stare at the corpse of your lifelong abuser.
____
The sun was beating down on you. You didn’t expect it to be evening when you stepped out of the warehouse.
“Where are we?” you asked, shielding your eyes from the sudden brightness that left you squinting.
“Middle of nowhere, I’d say.” Loki stares with disdain at the old building that looked worse for wear. “Would it kill the man to have a bit of taste?”
That reminded you. “Thanks for the house. And… sorry we showed up uninvited.”
“You didn’t do too much damage to it, I hope.”
You looked at him guiltily, mind flashing to the many bullet holes that decorated the back wall. “I’ll pay for the repairs.”
“Forget it. It’s of no use since everyone knows it exists now.” He dismissed with a wave of his hand. “So, Y/N. I guess that concludes our deal?”
“I guess it does.” You nodded,
Sam wraps his arms around your shoulder and you lean into him with a sigh, allowing the comfort his touch brought to seep into you.
“How’d you guys make a deal anyway?” he inquired. You closed your eyes, chest rising and falling steadily.
“Well, I was going to kill you at first,” Loki explained offhandedly, gesturing to you. “But then-”
He trailed off.
You remember, clear as day, when Loki confronted you in the early hours of the morning outside the park you went on runs. He had a gun pulled on you before you could fathom what was going on, before you could even realise who he was.
“But then?” Sam prodded.
“Did he make it?”
“He did,” you divulged the information you had found out a while ago. It was a messy confrontation to say the least but you got out unscathed.
“Saw something that I recognised,” he said dryly, eyeing you up and down. “We were both pulled into something we didn’t have a say in. Stuck, you could say. I just thought that it was a win-win situation if we worked together to kill that idiot back there.”
“So you agreed to spy on him,” Sam concluded. “You got revenge. What was your incentive?”
You look at Loki who just smiled at you. You return one half heartedly.
“I’d say freedom is a pretty big reward, wouldn’t you?” And it was. You couldn’t even begin to explain the weight that would be lifted off your shoulders. “I can’t guarantee you’ll have a perfectly normal life. Might have to change your identity, move around a bit.”
“Everyone’s looking for us as wanted criminals,” Sam voiced everything you were forgetting about in the surge of emotions rushing through you.
“I got some connections,” Loki said dismissively. You peered at him from under Sam's arm. “I can have it traced back to a dead mobster in a warehouse, no problem. If they think it’s a gang war there’s no way they’ll try to get too involved. Consider it a gift from my father.”
Sam nodded, relaxing slightly now that most things were taken care of.
“That’s sorted then.” Loki examined the barren land that surrounded you. “You’re going to need a ride back to civilization, aren’t you?”
“If that’s possible.”
“I’ll have someone drop you off. You got any place to go? At least to stay low for a while.”
You didn’t have anyone. The only one you had was the man beside you. Nothing was settling in at the moment, and you realised that it would be a long road until it did. But you had a shot. A real shot at something even resembling recovery.
Sam and you looked at each other before he turned back to Loki and nodded.
“New Orleans.”
Next part
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here’s a list of references/foreshadowing to the end all throughout the series!
#sam x reader#sam wilson x reader#mcu fic#sam fic#sam wilson fic#sam wilson fluff#sam wilson angst#sam wilson series#falcon#falcon x reader#the falcon x reader#hitman!sam wilson#hitman!au#shut in fic#marvel fic#marvel#mcu#sam wilson#the falcon#sam wilson fanfiction#marvel imagine#marvel fanfiction#sam wilson imagine#sam imagine
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Fire on Fire - chapter four
chapter three // chapter five
Aelin slammed her car door harder than necessary, sighing once she was comfortably sitting in her seat. She buckled her seatbelt and turned her head to the man sitting next to her in the passenger seat. "I'm not going to buckle your seatbelt for you, you're an adult, not a child."
Arobynn just chuckled and did it himself. “Always a delight to deal with you, darling.”
Aelin had to take a deep breath or she would snap. Getting mad at him wouldn’t work, it never did. It would just make him mad at her, and it wasn’t worth it. “Call someone else next time, then.” She said as she started driving. Aelin wished she had drunk a coffee before or taken anything that could help her stay awake. Arobynn lived one hour away from this bar, the night was going to be very long. “I forgot, you have no one else.”
“Be careful how you speak to me, Aelin.” His words were harsh even if they were slurred by the alcohol. Aelin hated the part of herself that was scared at his threat. So she didn’t answer, focused on the road, and put on some music to try to distract herself.
Aelin thought about last night, how bad her night of work was until she danced with Elide. Aelin had always loved to dance, she remembered all the times she forced her parents to sit for an hour so she could show them everything she learned that week at the dance studio.
When she turned eight, Aelin started doing dance competitions and she was good, very good, actually. She went to nationals twice, the first time she ended up in fourth place, not good enough. The second time she was in second place, it was better but still not good enough. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was born with the need to be the best at everything she did, she didn’t understand why. Maybe it was because her parents had always been first in their own way and Aelin wanted to be like them.
After an injury at fifteen, she had to stop dancing. She still remembered crying in Aedion’s arms for an entire night. If Aelin thought about it, she would realize that’s the moment everything started to go downhill in her life. But she tried to avoid thinking about it, if she didn’t think about the problems, they didn’t exist.
“Why are you dressed like a whore, anyway?” Arobynn broke the silence and Aelin’s heart clenched. She hadn’t been hurt when Rowan made comments on her outfit because as much as she hated him, she knew he respected women and just wanted to hurt her. Arobynn never had an ounce of respect for women, he had proven it multiple times, that’s what made his comment horrible. “Not that I’m complaining in any way.” Aelin’s eyes left the road for two seconds to see him with a disgusting smile on his lips and his eyes fixed on her thighs. It took all her self-control not to vomit right there.
“I was working,” she simply said. She didn’t have to justify herself but Arobynn didn’t like to be ignored.
“You work at a strip club now?” He snorted. “Why do you even want to work? I told you I could pay for everything you need.”
He did, and it had been generous. Too generous from Arobynn to come without a price. “And I told you I could do it on my own.”
“Well, you don’t seem to earn a lot of money wherever you work since I’m still the one paying for your college tuition.” He said with a light tone but Aelin caught what he really meant. You’re only here thanks to me, be grateful.
“How many times do I have to thank you for it?” She asked with a sharp tone. Aelin had never been very good at staying calm. “I told you I would pay you back-”
“Bullshit,” he tapped his foot on the floor of the car, almost screaming. Unusual for him to lose his temper. When Arobynn was mad he favored hurting people with words. It was very rare for him to be physically violent. She jumped in spite of herself. “Do I look like I care about the money?” No, of course not. The money he used to pay for her college was like pocket money for a ten-year-old child, he didn’t see the difference in his bank account before and after paying for it. “I don’t understand why you want to work and live in a shitty apartment when you could be cared for and live in a manor.”
“ Your manor.” She said coldly.
“Yes, mine. How is that a problem?” He was angry, Aelin could see it at the way his hands clenched on his tights, the way his right leg kept fidgeting, or at the way he pronounced every word that came out of his mouth as if they were full of venom.
“You are my professor, Arobynn. I am your fucking student and not only this but I am also your teaching assistant. Do I really need to explain how wrong it is?”
“I am trying to take care of you, Aelin. I would expect you to be nicer.”
“Right now I am the one taking care of you!” She screamed, done with his bullshit. If someone had told Aelin five years ago that her favorite author was like this, she wouldn’t have believed them. “Even if I don’t want to.”
“I’m waiting for the day you crawl for my help, Aelin.”
She didn’t answer, instead, she kept her eyes on the road. She thought about her favorite books and how happy they made her. Maybe she would read one when she gets back home, it was too late to sleep anyway. Twenty minutes later, she parked her car right in front of his house. It was big, too big for a single man.
Aelin looked at her professor as he unbuckled his belt. “Have you graded the papers we gave you last month? Students will need them this week.” She asked but knew the answer. He just smirked at her and winked.
“You know me better than this, sweetheart.”
Aelin sighed and got out of her car, following Arobynn. He wasn’t walking straight and somewhere in the back of her mind she hoped he wouldn’t get hurt. Aelin knew Arobynn wasn’t a good man, he was a real piece of shit. But he had been there for her when she was at her worst, he didn’t do a lot but he had been there. He gave her opportunities she would never have had alone. And even if his interest in her was bad, he believed in her. He read every single one of her stories, gave her advice to become the best writer she could be. He let her access his contacts. If she ever made it on the best-seller list, it would be a little bit thanks to this man.
He opened his door and Aelin didn’t wait before going to his study, not caring about what he did. She quickly found the folder full of papers. She went through all of them and left hers and Lysandra’s on Arobynn’s desk. She couldn’t grade them, even if she wished she could grade Lysandra’s, but Arobynn didn’t want her to play favorites.
She turned but found Arobynn watching her at the entrance of the study. He had a glass of whiskey in his hand, of course, he would start drinking again the minute he got home. He walked towards her and she was struck by the size difference between the two of them. He pinned her with this lover’s gaze. She looked at the face she once found beautiful and swallowed. She wanted to move but couldn’t.
“What would I do without you, sweet Aelin?” He purred, letting one of his knuckles caress her cheek and before he could brush her lips she turned her head to the side. This gave him just more room to lean in and place a kiss on her cheekbone, his lips were soft and warm. Slowly, Aelin pulled back. “Tell me what I have to do for you to let me lay the world at your feet.”
Aelin said nothing as she walked away from him.
-
The moment Aelin entered her bathroom she fell on her knees and threw her guts up in the toilet. She could still feel Arobynn’s hand brushing her thigh in the car, could still feel his eyes on her or his hot breath on her ear.
When she closed her eyes she could remember the first time she saw these grey eyes four years ago and how different it felt to have them on her.
Aelin couldn’t hear the music over her friends’ laugh and her own.
When a waiter passed her she took the opportunity to take another glass of champagne and give him her empty glass. Her head was already spinning in the most delicious way.
"Ten bucks says he goes back with him tonight," Nehemia said, her eyes fixed on Aedion and the handsome blond man he was talking to. They were at a charity event, Aelin had agreed to accompany her parents only if she could bring her friends. Her three friends practically lived at home, so they agreed.
“Ten bucks?” Aelin asked as she took a sip of her drink. “How boring you are. Five hundred says they make out in a cupboard here.”
“You’re the only rich girl here, you know that?” Sam asked as he took her under his arm, forcing her head to rest on his chest. Aelin laughed loudly as she pushed him away, trying not to spill her drink on either of them.
“You are so loud, Aelin,” Lysandra complained but she wasn’t better. If anyone drank as much as Aelin did it was her best friend.
“I think our little Aelin,” Sam said, his voice full of fake seriousness, as he took her head in both hands, Aelin giggled at his fake frown. “Is slightly drunk.” Sam finished, and before Aelin could say anything he bent to kiss her. She lost herself in him, putting her arms around his neck. After a few seconds, they pulled apart but Aelin rested her head in his neck, breathing deeply in his lavender scent. She would kick his ass later for using her soap.
“Fireheart?” Aelin heard her mother call, she turned around but tripped on her long dress. Sam caught her before she could fall and the group of four friends exploded with laughter. They had all had a little too much to drink if they needed so little to laugh.
Aelin hid her glass behind her back, remembering that her parents had forbidden her to drink. They didn’t want their sixteen years old daughter to be seen doing inappropriate things. Sam took the glass discreetly and she knew he would get rid of it as soon as possible. Aelin's parents would never suspect Aelin's perfect boyfriend of helping her disobey her parents.
What her parents didn't know was that her three friends were her partners in crime, especially Sam.
“Aelin, honey.” Her mother said as she stopped in front of her. Sam’s hand rested quietly on her hip, a silent reminder that no matter how the conversation turned out, Aelin was not to get upset.
But Evalin was not alone. "My dear, I'm sure you know Mister Hamel?" She asked, knowing full well that Aelin knew him. She had dozens of copies of all his books all over her room, his writing was just amazing.
Aelin turned her head to admire her idol's face. He was handsome, for a thirty-seven years old man. If Aelin was honest, she had always had a thing for men older than her.
When her eyes met his gray ones, Aelin tensed. Absolutely everything about this man screamed power. From the way he stood to the little smile on his face as he held out his hand for Aelin to place hers in. His hand was warm but not soft, she could feel several scars. He placed a kiss on the back of her hand before saying softly, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Galathynius."
The memory of that night made her throw up a second time as she fought against tears. Everything about this memory was painful. She had worked so hard to keep these emotions locked inside of her for years, she couldn’t break now. Not after everything she did to forget.
“You got drunk?” A deep voice asked and Aelin whipped her head toward that voice only to find a shirtless Rowan, arms crossed, watching her from his doorframe. She didn’t secretly marvel at his muscles like she usually did whenever he was shirtless, tonight, another proof of how bad she was feeling. “Is that why you’re so late?” His voice was hard, the same voice he usually used whenever she was around.
“Were you worried?” She asked, sarcastically. She didn’t have the strength to fight now, and yet… She couldn’t help when he was around.
“Your cousin and best friend were worried sick. Are you so selfish that you don’t care?”
“I’ll talk about that with them, then. I don’t need you here.” Her voice was as hard as his, while she usually was more teasing. Aelin saw him frown at her tone but she didn’t give a shit, she needed to be left alone. “But if you want to know, I wasn’t getting drunk, no.”
“Then what were you doing?” He snapped and Aelin didn’t understand him. Why did he want to know that? Shouldn’t he have been happy she wasn’t here? Why did he even come into the bathroom? Aelin supposed he heard her throw up, it’s not like she was a very discreet person. Did he come here just to mock her? “What has put you in such a pathetic state?”
“Get the out,” her voice was weak, trying not to think about one of the worst nights of her life. You look pathetic , Arobynn had told her two years ago. But Aelin couldn’t help it, everything about that night disgusted her. When she looked up at Rowan she thought she saw concern in his eyes but she probably was hallucinating because a second later, his eyes were cold as ice.
He laughed, even if his laugh didn’t have any humor in it. “You know what, Aelin? Keep throwing up all you want. You’re worthless.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
There was a long pause and when Aelin thought he wouldn’t say anything else, he opened his mouth. “I understand why your parents cut you off. Who would want a disappointment like you as their daughter?”
“Don’t ever talk to me again.” She said silently, and when he closed the door, Aelin let the tears run down her face. For the first time in his life, Rowan hurt Aelin.
-----
taglist:
@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy
#rowan x aelin#rowaelin fanfiction#rowaelin#throne of glass fanfiction#fire on fire#rowan whitethorn#aelin galathynius
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Paring: dark!Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: How were you to know who’s a monster, who’s a savior when they all hide behind a mask
Words: 4.7k
Warnings: violence, manipulation, dark themes, language, 18+ ONLY
A/N: Aged up Peter Parker (obviously). No smut in here, even I surprised myself.
MASTERLIST
+++++
You stared in the mirror, hands clammy as you tried to angle the phone right. The lightening was not perfect, and you twisted, trying to see if you’ll need to turn on the flash. Just as you thought you’d found your position, your phone chimed and you jumped. Clicking on the notification you opened your messages and found another text from the private number.
Be quick
Just above this was the text you’d received 20 minutes ago that had you running into the bathroom and taking your top and bra off within minutes.
Send me a pic of your right nipple
It had started a couple weeks ago with the kidnapping of your boyfriend, Sammy. You didn’t realize he had been kidnapped at first. He worked as a driver for a rich family and they took him away without preamble overnight for visits into next town. You only noticed something was strange when all your calls and texts remained unanswered for two days and you finally made a call to his employers to figure out if everything was okay. It was a shock to realize that the family was in town and hadn’t seen him for two days too. You had jumped into action, barely making sure you were appropriately dressed as you made your way to the police station to report a missing person’s report. You had parked down and were just about to open your door when the first message pinged. You almost didn’t check your phone, but the notification said private number, so you clicked on it. Your world came crashing down.
It was a picture of your boyfriend tied to a metal chair in what looked like a warehouse with blood caking his hairline and mouth gagged. Tears were streaming down his face and you covered your mouth in shock. Another message chimed, this one reading:
Don’t even think of going inside. Turn around and go back to your home
You had whipped your head around, looking out of the window with terrified eyes as you tried to see anyone who looked suspicious or was paying attention to you. Nothing struck you out of the ordinary and you were more determined than ever to go in and file a report when another message popped up.
Go home or I can send your precious lover’s head to you in a parcel
Maybe you should have gone inside, maybe you should have told someone. But when someone is holding a gun to the love of your life, you do what the fuck they say. Common sense doesn’t come into play. Last minute solutions don’t play in your mind. It was real life, not a movie. You drove back to your house in tears, hands trembling. Your boyfriend was not missing, he’d been taken by someone. The drive back home was a blur and you barely made it without hitting someone or yourself. You parked outside and entered your home, locking the door behind. The moment you were in, another text alert:
Good girl
You locked all the doors and windows, the curtains drawn shut. You sat down in the living you, finally finding the nerve to text back.
Who are you? What do you want?
You waited for a reply, your eyes darting around your house. Did the person have camera’s in your house or were you simply followed? Would they really hurt Sammy or was that an empty threat? Should you call his parents? Your parents? Your phone dinged and quickly swiped up to open the text.
I want you to send me picture of your little toe
What the fuck? This had to be some sort of a joke. You were shaking in fear and anger, your hand clutching the phone in a dead grip. You should have gone and made the complaint. It was dark outside now, but you’d go to the police station first thing tomorrow morning. To hell with this person, you will not be scared of them. You took a screenshot of the messages and made sure your house was secure before retiring to your room with a knife. Sleep came late and restless, your worry keeping you from having a sated sleep. Horrible scenarios ran across your mind, each worse than the last.
You woke up early and dressed up. You needed to be at the station as soon as possible, Sammy was in danger. Whoever had him seemed addled in the brain. You were just pouring your coffee in your travelling mug when the doorbell rang. Your heart beat in your throat, your body seizing up in terror. You got your knife from the kitchen, creeping to the door on all fours trying to make the least amount of noise as possible. You leaned up slightly to peep out the peephole and saw a delivery man. He looked normal enough, cranky from an early delivery. You cautiously opened the door a few inches, hiding the knife behind your back.
“Y/n Y/l/n?” He asked and you nodded. He held out a small parcel to you along with a form to sign. You opened the door a few more inches and quickly scribbled your name across the form, taking the parcel with tentative hands. The man walked away without a goodbye and you sighed. Not everyone was out there to get you.
You placed the parcel on the table. It held only the delivery receipt, no other marks on it. It was small, almost like a jewelry box. You looked at the time and thought to open it first. You didn’t wanna deal with sleep deprived officers who refuse to take you seriously at the station. Getting out you scissors you cut the brown paper off and opened the plain carboard box. Inside was a jewelry box like you had expected, but who would send this to you? There was no note and you opened the flap.
It fell out of your hands as you screamed, your hands rushing to your mouth in horror. The thing that had been perched inside like a ring rolled out and fell on the floor, resting at your feet. It was a little toe. A severed, human little toe. And if your hunch was right, you knew who it belonged to. Your phone chimed at that very moment and you swallowed back the bile in your throat when you swiped up.
Next time, listen. I have no trouble sending his head to you.
P.S. Drink that coffee, looks delicious. And be a good girl and forget about the police if you give a damn about your piece of shit boyfriend.
P.P.S I’ll like a pic of your pinky finger
You send him the pic with shaky hands, tears falling down your cheeks.
This is how it went for a few weeks, them asking for pictures of different body parts. Each with a threat of the same part being chopped off Sammy’s body if you don’t comply. Whoever they were, they didn’t call you and you couldn’t call them. You rarely texted, only asking if Sammy was okay and you’ll get vague texts in reply saying, ‘that depends on you’.
The pictures were seemingly innocent enough at first. Your fingers, your knee, your shoulder, hair braided, hair in a pony. But then they got dangerous. The inside of your things, your ass in a pink pair of panties, your nipples. You gave them what they wanted. As long as Sammy was okay, but you didn’t know how long you could continue this. Something had to be done
+++++
You were probably making a big mistake, but you had no option. Police was out of question, but they weren’t the police. Not entirely.
The kidnapper could for some reason follow you everywhere, even look inside your home though you had scoured every corner and found no cameras. You needed people more powerful and they were the only ones who could help. You know they didn’t have time for something this small as they dealt with world endangering events, but you had to try. You entered the Avengers Tower, making your way to the front desk. The lady sitting behind looked kind enough, greeting you politely.
“Hello, how can I help you?” She asked with a practiced smile and you nervously smiled back.
“I uh, I want to make a complaint.” You winced as you said that, your eyes darting around. The lady however gave you a sympathetic smile, slipping you a form to fill.
“You can fill this one, but it may take a while to get to them. They can be very busy” She said, and you nodded, taking the form and going to sit on a couch to fill it out. You gave all the necessary information, adding in that you had picture proof. You hoped it reached someone here who could help, if not the avengers then someone from Shield. You got up to submit it when you bumped into somebody, making them drop their papers along with yours.
“Oh, I am so sorry” you apologized, bending down to gather their stuff as well as yours. A hand reached out to help and you looked up in the eyes of Sam Wilson. You blinked and then stammered another apology that he waved away. He got the papers from your hand, looking over and found your form.
“This yours miss?” He asked as he looked over the paper, his brow furrowing as he read on. You nodded and bit your lip. He turned it over and then looked back at you. “Do you have the picture evidence?” He asked tapping the paper and you nodded quickly. You showed him your phone, with the messages and pictures. He frowned, his handsome face pinched.
“Can you help me? They sent me his severed toe. For all I know he isn’t even alive now.” You croaked and Sam looked at you with kind eyes.
“Y/n, isn’t it?” He asked and you nodded. “Well, this looked very creepy and bad. I’ll take it up to the team okay? See if someone can spare sometime on it. Here, take my card. Call me if they approach you again.”
You almost sobbed with relief, glad that something seemingly good finally happened. You thanked him and pocketed his card, hoping you made the right call. It didn’t matter now anyway. You were in deep. Either the kidnappers find out and threaten you, possibly killing Sammy. Or they piss their pants and leave you the hell alone. You just wanted this to be over.
You returned to your flat with a lighter heart, having a full dinner after ages. You had the avengers on your case. The avengers. The guys who took down aliens and planet-wiping asshats. They will put an end to this, you were sure. You slept better that night too, heinous dreams not plaguing you for a change.
You went to work early that day. Usually your shift at the local clinic didn’t start until an hour later, but you were feeling hopeful. Helping people through the day by stitching their wounds or giving a kid a cartoon bandage took your mind off things. It was a smooth day, almost normal. No more texts from the kidnapper today and if Sammy were home, things would be perfect. You were only just leaving when another person walked in your station, a cut bleeding over their lip. You recognized the boy and gave him a reproachful look.
“Peter, again?” You groaned, your hands automatically reaching for the antiseptic wipes. He came in once every few weeks, battered from one thing or another. You were sure some gang was beating him up, but he never confided. He was your age, studying some cool physics stuff while you nursed here. He was a very regular patient.
“Hey Y/n, can you patch me up. Again.” He said, ruffling his hair awkwardly. You tended to him, being careful not to hurt him even though he barely flinched. He had tremendous pain tolerance and you didn’t wanna know how he built it up. He was a great guy, pretty cool and respectful.
“There you go, all done. Maybe listen to me for once and don’t do whatever it is you do.” You advised, and he sent you a bashful grin that you knew meant your words went in one ear and out of the other.
“Thanks. You look good today, happier. Something good happen?” He asked and you smiled a little.
“I think so. I’ll get to know soon enough. You look after yourself, mkay?” You say and pack up your stuff. You saw him lingering, feet shuffling around so you raised an eyebrow.
“Um, I was wondering if you’d wanna go out for a coffee or something?” He asked and now it was your turn to shuffle uneasily.
“Peter, I’m really flattered. But I’m in a relationship already.” You told him and saw him frown.
“You have a boyfriend?” He asked confused and you nodded. Sammy was still your boyfriend, regardless of everything. You weren’t going to go around dating behind his back. He will come home. You were sure he will. Peter’s face fell and before you could say something he nodded and left. You felt horrible, but you hoped he will come around.
You got a call from Sam right before you went to sleep.
“Hey, did the kidnappers contact you?” He asked and you said no. He hummed and spoke to someone in the background. “Can you come over to the tower tomorrow? We’ll have a look at your phone, try and track the number?”
You agreed to meet him there at noon and a smile spread on your face. Things seemed to be progressing. Maybe the kidnapper was too scared of the avengers to make any move. You hoped you’ll get Sammy back soon.
You reached the tower with ten minutes to spare. You had taken trouble dressing up today as you didn’t know if you’ll meet more avengers. It was a blessing to have them and you prayed things will turn out okay. Sam met you in the lobby, waving at you.
“Hey, come on up. We’ve got a tech team waiting” He said, and you followed him to the elevator. It seemed to rise up and up, and you got nervous. You were glad you hadn’t deleted anything from your phone but worried what they will say about it. You had after all sent nude pics to a stranger.
“Hey, don’t worry. It’s a safe space.” Sam promised you and you tried to force a smile.
You exited with him in what looked like a huge office space, with cabins and sleek furniture everywhere. He led you to the cabin at the end and held the door for you to enter. You took a step inside and almost stopped short. When Sam said tech team you didn’t know it would mean Black Widow and Tony Stark.
“Come on in, we don’t bite.” Tony teased you, waving you forward and you stumbled. They both shook your hands and offered you a seat where you sat gobsmacked. You kinda sat like a goldfish until manners and mobility returned and you greeted them with a high pitch hello.
“Hey kid, you don’t need to worry. We got a free day today and Wilson said a young lady needed saving. Romanoff loves the ladies you know.” Tony winked and Nat threw a stapler at him that he caught. You nervously smiled and then they got to business. You explained everything to them, showing them the texts and pictures.
“Hmm, it’s a private number. Let’s see if we can do something about it.” Nat said and connected your phone to her laptop, clattering away on the keys. As she did, her brows drew together and she huffed. “Oh, this one is good. Not good enough for me though.”
She kept at it for a few minutes and when her device beeped her mouth parted a little. She moved her head away and blinked before passing the laptop to Tony who looked baffled. He started his own clattering and you tensed. The laptop beeped again and just then the door opened. You looked up to see…a man wearing the spiderman mask.
“Hey kid, you know you can take that thing off in here.” Sam said.
“I’m good. I need to leave soon anyway.” The voice behind the mask said and it almost sounded familiar. He looked at you and waved and you returned the gesture. Of course, Spiderman’s identity was a secret. You were probably the reason he was wearing the mask in the first place.
“This doesn’t seem right.” Tony mused and he and Nat exchanged a look.
“What is it?” You asked and Sam echoed your question.
“Well, the signals of the phone trace back to this tower.” Tony answered and he seemed as bewildered as you.
“What? Like a shield agent? That would explain how they could spy on her without too much trouble.” Sam mused.
“You mind if I see Mr. Stark?” Spiderman asked and Tony passed the laptop to him, leaning back in his seat.
“I’ll have Friday run a scan all over the tower. We’ll have an identity soon. But damn, this is disturbing.” Tony said and you felt anticipation rise in you. You’ll have the name of the kidnapper soon, and after that Sammy can be home.
“Uh, Mr. Stark, something is going on here. I – I swear I didn’t do anything.” Spiderman called out in a panicked voice and Tony and Nat crowed around him.
“What the fuck? How did this happen?” Nat scowled, her face almost buried in the screen as Tony did whatever he did there. “This…this can’t just happen. Tony!”
They looked up at you genuinely confused as you stared back with wide eyes.
“It seems like someone just deleted all the data from the number, including the trace. That shouldn’t have been possible.” Nat explained and you willed your tears away. All the proof you had gathered was lost, including the only lead you’d had for months.
“Hey kid, don’t cry. We’ve got you, okay. We know its someone from inside the tower. We’ll keep a watch.” Tony assured you, patting your shoulder in a fatherly way. You sniffled and shifted in your seat, all the hopelessness coming back.
“I think someone should keep a watch with her.” Nat suggested. “Whoever they are, we know they are good. Must be some top shield agent. A stakeout at her place, that should clear shit up.”
The others nodded and you cringed. You didn’t want to trouble them or have your privacy invaded this way, but if that was what it took to get Sammy back, you’ll be okay with it. So, you agreed.
“I’ll see if Wanda is free.” Sam suggested when Spiderman stood up and waved goodbye.
“Now wait here Wilson, we got our friendly neighborhood hero right here. Kid, you look after her. Your people skills are depressing and maybe you’ll cheer up a bit.” Tony said and you saw Spiderman wring out his hands.
“Mr. Stark, I’ve got college.”
“She’s got work.” Tony looked at you and you nodded. “See it will be perfect. Go on, pack an overnight.”
You gave out your address and went back home, aggressively cleaning before Spiderman arrived. You felt kinda bad for him since you knew he didn’t wanna be here, but well, job’s a job. He arrived just as you’d finished shoving your stuff under the bed and you opened the door to him still wearing the mask.
“Hey, make yourself at home. I’d give you a tour but its only one room, bathroom and kitchen.” You said awkwardly, his red face looking around.
“It’s chill. I’ll make my bed on the couch. You don’t need to worry. I’ll keep you safe.” He promised. His voice wasn’t very rough, and you thought he must be somewhere around your age.
“You can uh, take your mask off if you wanna. I swear I won’t tell anyone” You promised but he shook his head.
“I’m fine. Please, don’t bother. Go about your day as usual. I’ll make myself scarce.” He set his bag on the coffee table and took out his books. Some complicated physics stuff. Well, Tony Stark wouldn’t just have a stupid rookie in his team.
You and Spiderman (Seriously, you can just call me Erek Trapper) had a simple dinner. You knew he’d given you a fake name, probably just an anagram but you didn’t push him. You valued your privacy too. He wasn’t too much trouble, always polite and never in your way. Only once you found him in your doorway watching you sleep, but he very embarrassedly told you that he needed an extra pillow to sleep. You gave him one after which he didn’t appear again.
He stayed for a week before shit happened. You were alone at home when your phone buzzed. “Erek” was still not back from his classes and you were making dinner. You picked up your phone and almost dropped it in fright. A private number.
Such a silly dumb girl you are.
Another buzz
You’re not good at taking orders, are you? We’re gonna work on that
Buzz
And here I thought you cared about this pathetic boy
Buzz
I should have really sent you his whole leg instead of the toe
Buzz
Look in your kitchen drawer
You turned around, sweat running down your neck and tremors hit you as you pulled out your drawer. You screamed, bloody fingernails inside a cup greeting you. You stumbled back and your windows started rattling all at once. You sat huddled in the kitchen, screaming with your head between your legs as knocks echoed around your apartment, multiple doors and windows banging. You sniffed and suddenly looked across the hall where a fire burned in your room.
“No!” You couldn’t get up, frozen in shock. The doors kept banging, smoke filling the house and your lungs, blurring your vision. Your throat was hoarse and dry and you coughed, trying and failing to stand up with support of the counter. You knocked against the drawer, the cup of nails tumbling down over you making you flail and howl.
You crawled away on shaky feet, feeling more exhausted than ever. Your lungs burned and you coughed, losing feeling of your body. The door was banging louder than ever and you shut your ears, tears making their way down your face.
It opened with a bang, a man nearly flying inside and to your side. Cool hands gripped your face and tapped your cheeks, urging you to keep your eyes open. You were in his arms, being lifted outside from your home.
“Mr. Stark, no, I got there in time. Yes sir. Taking her with me. Bring her to the tower? Yes sir. She’s okay – I don’t know. Maybe. Yes. Gonna be swinging with her.” He spoke to someone.
Air rushed against you and you barely opened your eyes before shutting them again. You were flying from building to building, only one arm around you keeping you safe. You hugged him tight, pressing your face into his neck.
“We’re almost there, Y/n. Damn it! I knew I should have controlled the drugs.”
You didn’t understand what he said and as the swinging motion grew frantic, your eyes shut.
+++++
Beeping of a machine greeted you and your eyes opened to the view of a hospital room. A tube was in your arm, a tv playing softly in the background. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and as your memories flooded you, you stood up. The beeping increased and a door opened to let in a man in middle age, with soft salt and pepper curls.
“Hey hey, its alright. You’re safe. You need to lay down.” He said. He looked so familiar and your eyes widened as you recognized him as Dr. Bruce Banner.
“I – what happened?” You asked. Before he could answer, Spiderman walked in and took the seat by your bed.
“I’ll let you guys talk. I’m going to be with Tony, Pete. Call me if you need something. And for god’s sake, take this goddamn mask off.” Bruce chided and left.
You looked at Spiderman who slowly took off his mask and your mouth dropped open. These brown eyes and hair.
“Peter?” You gasped and he nodded, abashed.
“I’m sorry I had to hide like this. I was going to let you know.” He explained. His eyes widened like he really really wanted you to understand.
“You’re Spiderman? So that’s where you got all those cuts from” You said, and he nodded. You raked a hand through your hair and winced when they tangled in some knots. “Thank you, Peter, for saving me. The fire, I – I don’t know what happened.”
Peter took your hands in his and placed a kiss on your knuckles. You frowned, trying to take your hand away but he resisted.
“Of course, I saved you. Sammy would have killed you otherwise.” He remarked and you started.
“Sammy? He’s here?” You almost jumped out the bed and Peter pushed down on your shoulder.
“Y/n, you don’t understand. Sammy was the kidnapper. He…he faked it.”
Peter was speaking but not making any sense. Why the hell would Sammy do that? You saw his bloodied pictures, you saw his torn off toe and fingernails.
“You’re mistaken.” You whisper but Peter shook his head.
“No, of course you’ll believe that. Sammy worked as a temp here last year. He got into Shield’s database and has been using that information to torture you. He faked it darling.” Peter said and pressed another kiss on your hand.
“That’s a lie. He never worked here! He was working for a family downtown!” You shouted and Peter nodded at you.
“Yes, but Friday’s data can be manipulated, and people paid off. They will never testify to knowing him.”
It took you a ridiculously long time to come to terms with what Peter said. His fingers were caressing up and down your arm, lips pressing soft kisses on your palm and wrist. You tried to wiggle it free, but he squeezed hard and you cried out.
“Don’t struggle, I don’t wanna hurt you anymore. I almost added too much hallucinogen to the smoke. You really scared me baby. Don’t do that again.” He scolded you and your eyes brimmed with tears. He wiped them away, cupping your cheek and you turned your face away.
“You?”
Peter nodded, his other hand playing with your hair.
“You were always so sweet Y/n. So nice to me, never asking too many questions. Being kind to me when I was beaten up. I have wanted you for months but then you kept talking to your friends about Sammy and it made me so sad. So, I took him away, kidnapped him. I tried to give you a closure, stage it properly. I would have killed him and sent you a picture, consoled you after his death. I asked you out, remember, and you still turned me down. But then you came here, to Mr. Stark. That day I barely managed to corrupt the filed on his laptop, they were so close to finding me. And well, I didn’t even have to manipulate him into sending me at your place. That worked out so smooth. Now, all the evidence is in play. Sammy will be indicted for conspiracy and attempt to murder. And you and me, we can be together.”
You opened your mouth to shout and his hand was promptly there, blocking all sound.
“Shh, don’t baby. I know you’re scared. I know. But Sammy is still with me. I can do anything. Right now, I’ve only cut off a toe and his nails. He’s still breathing. I think he’ll have a way better life in prison than in a grave, yeah?”
Peter leaned down and kissed your tears away, and when he removed his hands only sobs escaped your mouth. He cupped your face, looking so kind you doubted if whatever he said actually happened.
“No one will come between us. You’ll be mine and I’ll be yours.”
He pressed his lips to yours and you closed your eyes in surrender.
+++++
Taglist: @shooting-star-love @what-is-your-wish @littlegasps
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okay. let's do this shit.
Guess what, bitches? Mama bear's back and angry all over again. Remember when I said I might dive into a ragepost about how Bucky's treated after completing the one about Loki? This is it. This is the post. Welcome to fucking Thunderdome.
I will actually try to keep it civil. No promises, but I'll try. and I will not be accepting "constructive criticism" about my rage. Just so we're clear.
Got it? Good. Let's dive in.
In case you don't want to read the whole thing (I know I get wordy) here's what this whole post will boil down to: BUCKY NEVER HAD A FUCKING CHOICE. NEVER. NOT ONCE IN HIS ENTIRE ADULT LIFE.
Now, quick reminder: I don't read comics. I know nothing about Bucky's comic canon, except what Sebastian liked to bring up as often as possible during TWS/CW promotions: at some point, Bucky boned Nat. XD Since Bucky only exists as a Marvel property, I won't be bitching about other source material being disrespected like I did with Loki. This is all MCU, my dudes. And honestly? That's enough, because though we don't see nearly enough of Bucky for my liking, we do manage to get a rich, deep backstory to him in the material we're given, partly thanks to better writing in the early days of the MCU, and partly thanks to Sebastian Stan's phenomenal acting. Unlike the writers of the Loki series, Seb knows how to show, not tell. And gods, what stories those eyes show...
Let's start with the army. In an old post illustrating what an absolute BAMF Bucky Barnes truly is, I mistakenly said he enlisted, and a kind soul educated me on the incredible attention to detail Marvel used to pay - in this case, Bucky's ID number. 32557038. As this kind, eagle-eyed soul pointed out to me, the first two digits of that number - 32 - signify that Bucky was drafted, specifically from the NY, NJ, DE area (that last part is rather obvious, as Bucky and Steve are from Brooklyn lol). Bucky didn't choose to go to war. He was drafted. He was forced to fight, or go to prison.
Bucky was born in 1917, which means - again, as someone pointed out to me a while back - he came of age during the Great Depression. As a child, he would likely have seen his parents living comfortably and able to shower each other and him and his sister with gifts and fun memories, and then POOF. Stock market crashes when he's only 12-years-old, and life becomes brutal and painful. He manages to have some fun with his best friend Steve, and spends his teens/early 20s chasing girls and keeping his stupid, stubborn, tiny friend from getting beaten to death.
Steve constantly has something to prove. He's absolutely got what my mom always called "little man's disease", and Bucky's just doing his best not to roll his eyes too much at this asthmatic chihuahua constantly trying to beat up Tibetan mastiffs. While Steve keeps lying on his enlistment forms (an actual crime) trying again and again to get into the army and prove what a badass he is (definitely not), Bucky's had enough trauma and upheaval in his life and he just wants his stupid friend to calm tf down and live. Enjoy the fact that he doesn't have to go to war and get his limbs blown off.
And then he gets fucking drafted. This sweet, resigned realist who knows exactly how dangerous the war really is, is forced to put on a uniform and go fight strangers alongside other strangers thousands of miles from everything he knows. And on his last night of freedom, when he just wants to hang out with his friend, see some cool gadgets, and dance with a pretty girl, his stupid angry chihuahua friend feels the need to lie and try to enlist again.
Okay. Gotta get back on track. Ragepost about mistreatment of Bucky, not how much Steve annoys me. Sorry. Anyway...
Bucky's drafted, accepts his shitty lot with a brave smile, and is shipped off to Europe, where he is captured by HYDRA and presumed by the Allies to be KIA. Instead, he's strapped down, tortured, and given the HYDRA version of the super serum against his will. Steve rescues him, and Bucky knows he can't leave his idiot friend to his own devices to get his head blown off, so he dives right back into the fray. And then he falls off a cliff, loses most of his left arm, and is declared dead...again. This one's pretty damn valid, though lol. Without the serum no one knew he'd been shot up with, there is no way he would have survived that fall.
Here is where Bucky's story gets truly heartbreaking: His autonomy, his ability to consent is stripped from him through electroshock torture/brainwashing. The trigger words are conditioned into him during this process, and boom. Ten words in Russian, and Bucky Barnes is gone. Even the confused, hurting shadow of him is gone, leaving only a perfectly obedient killing machine, with Bucky's pretty face. He's strong as all hell, though, so they can't keep him fully under their control for long, not without more torture, when the disorientation of being fucking frozen wears off on longer missions.
I cannot stress this point enough, guys: Bucky. Had. No. Choice. Not like the draft, where his choices (go and get shot at, refuse and go to jail, or dodge and run to Canada) just suck. No, he literally didn't have a choice. He had his ability to choose stripped from him. If that's too complex a concept to really sink in, try this: His brain was fucking raped. Repeatedly. For decades. Nothing the Winter Soldier ever did was Bucky's fault. Nothing. Ever. Not remotely, no matter how you fucking slice it. Bucky is not an assassin. I almost said "not a killer", but he was a soldier, and a sharpshooter. He definitely killed when he was himself, but that was in a war, not a series of assassinations.
So far, imo, so good. This is just a rundown of Bucky's pre-show backstory. I don't love what he had to suffer, but I do love how it was treated in the movies. People were afraid of him, but when they knew the whole situation, Steve, Nat, and Sam rallied behind him. Natasha had plenty of reason to want the Winter Soldier dead; he'd tried to kill her multiple times and almost succeeded. Sam had no reason to help Bucky at all; he didn't know him, didn't trust him, and again, TWS had tried to kill him. But he stood by Steve, and when Bucky showed the clear difference between himself and TWS, Sam stood by him, too, and fought alongside him.
And it's very realistic, imo, that Tony didn't give a single fuck that Bucky had no choice. He watched this man murder both of his parents on tape. If TWS had killed my dad and I saw proof of it, I'd try to kill Bucky, too. Grief wins out over logic. Most emotions usually do. And that's a very important point we're going to come back to in a few minutes.
Bucky was really only in like ten minutes at most of IW and Endgame, and for multiple reasons I hate those movies, so I'm just gonna skip them, kay? Kay. On to the main event!
Here's where I get pissed off. Even if I didn't have an unhealthy attachment to this character, or the depth of appreciation for his tragic backstory that I do, the lack of continuity between the movies and the show alone would still piss me off. It always does. Don't even get me started on Joss "Continuity? What continuity?" Whedon and his (iconic, but flawed) shows. Ahem. Back on track...
Let me just get one little thing out of the way real quick: I fucking LOVE The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. I love it. This show amazed me when I first watched it, and I still love it after many more viewings lol. I have only ever watched it all the way through without skipping over as much John Walker shit as possible the one time lol but I love how Sam and Bucky interact, and I fucking adore how Sam's arc was treated. I just wish they'd show the same care and attention to Bucky.
Because what they did to Bucky in this show is a fucking travesty. There was a tiny ray of hope in the pilot, when he called out Dr. Bitchface for being a terrible shrink. I thought that would be the start of him realizing he needed to find someone else and ignore the damaging shit that woman was telling him. But...nope. No such luck.
The show really had a strong start, I'll give it that. We see Bucky having nightmares of his time as TWS and struggling to hide how his traumatic memories are affecting him as he tries to live in the world again. He befriends the father of one of HYDRA's victims, which can't be good for Bucky (and we're shown it's definitely not when he sees the shrine in Yori's home to his late son) but it's sweet, how he's trying to connect and reach out to someone who's hurting and lonely.
They drop the ball a little with the whole... Bucky can hack a fucking car, but can't figure out Tinder thing. Had they just run with the fandom interpretation of the tiger photos line, that it shows that Bucky is bi and left it at that, I'd have been okay with it (and no, that is not because I ship Sam/Bucky. it's because Bucky is and always has been a certified nerd who loves technology and has consistently shown very little issue learning to use new gadgets). The outdated flip phone he handed his terrible court-mandated shrink was a burner; I liked that theory when I read it, especially since it's the only time we see him even holding a phone that old lol. This all could have fit the "Bucky is a sassy bisexual nerd" narrative and it'd be okay. Instead, the director was like "NOOOOOO that line was just to show how old he is and how he can't figure out all this newfangled technology!" Woman, you had him remotely driving someone else's vehicle with a tablet. That is NOT a man who can't figure out a damn smart phone!
But that's just a minor annoyance. What fills me with absolute rage is how everyone - not just the shitty therapist who lashes out at and purposely triggers her traumatized patients, but EVERYONE - Sam, Zemo, people who should fucking know better ALL treat him like he's a psychopath and a ticking time bomb. Like he chose to take the serum and he chose to kill for HYDRA, and he's just seen the error of his ways. *barf*
Bucky in the movies is established to be a victim, through and through. His guilt over what he was forced to do is natural, and that he sees himself as a monster makes sense... but that doesn't mean it's correct. The one and only thing I ever liked about Steve Rogers is at least he got it. He pointed out that none of it was Bucky's fault, he tried to show him that he was worth saving. That's the other reason I refuse to talk about Endgame. This post will get a WHOLE LOT LONGER and a lot fucking angrier if I open that door.
Zemo supposedly knows everything about HYDRA and super soldiers... So why does he treat Bucky like he's a corrupt serial killer? (this, for the record, is why I don't like Zemo) Why does he never point out that Bucky was given the serum against his will, or that his actions, when he had control of them, proved that he was never corrupted? Bucky never wanted to become superhuman. Bucky didn't even want to fucking fight!
Sam, despite constantly resisting the label, is shown very clearly to be Bucky's friend. By episode 3, he cares. He worries about how Bucky is getting lumped in with the other super soldiers in Zemo's speech... But he never really defends him. He says "what about Bucky?" but he doesn't point out that Bucky's a good man, he's fought so hard to help people, he does everything he can to avoid killing... And that fucking speech in episode 5. I was with him on "you gotta stop looking to other people to tell you who you are." I was like "YEAH! Tell him, Sam! Bucky, you're WORTH SAVING, boo! Your value does not hinge on someone else's opinion of you!" And then... Sam dropped the ball.
He not only continued the disturbing pattern of victim-blaming in this show, and in Marvel/Disney properties in general, but he gave really dangerously bad advice! No one in their right mind, mental health professional or no, would EVER tell a traumatized former assassin (whether he was responsible for his actions or not) to go confront his victims' families out of the blue with no warning and no one to mediate and keep things from going to shit. Yori already knew his son had been murdered because he was in the "wrong place, wrong time." How is it being "of service" to tell him you're the one who killed him?! Remember how I said Tony's reaction to learning the full truth about his parents' deaths was valid and would be an important point later? Hi! Welcome to later. THAT is the natural reaction to facing the man who murdered your loved one(s). And even if Yori didn't get angry and lash out, HOW IS IT "HELPING" HIM OR BRINGING HIM "CLOSURE" TO KNOW THAT HIS FRIEND KILLED HIS FUCKING SON?!?!?! This man befriended him, bonded with him, watched him grieve... And now he's learning this is the man who caused all his pain and heartache to begin with? That is so toxic and psycho I just... I can't even... UGH.
And then there's the equally toxic and damaging "deeply traumatized person just needed a stern talking to and a hug to be ALL BETTER AGAIN" ending. I loved seeing Bucky happy and socializing, but it was too soon, and it was unearned. And it sends a fucking awful message to people actually struggling with PTSD, and to their loved ones who don't know how to help them. Heaping more blame on them and then hugging it out is NOT helpful!
This show could have been damn near perfect with just two changes. That's all. Just two.
1) Someone, anyone, bringing up the reasons why Bucky was never a villain in his presence. Someone being in his corner and reminding him, like Steve did, that it wasn't his fault and he's not going to "snap".
2) More time devoted to Bucky's healing. Actual fucking healing, not the shit they tried to pass off as a magic fix-all. He can have his happy barbecue moment, just don't frame it as "everything's great now!" Healing isn't linear, and there will be both good days and bad. Some of the most fragile people in the world have the brightest smiles.
If we get a season 2, which this amazing show absolutely deserves, and they address this stuff, all will be forgiven in my book. Expanding on his story and his journey toward healing will help to reframe that "happily ever after" garbage as something more realistic. But as it stands now... Fuck Marvel.
#fan rant#ragepost#long post#bucky barnes#mcu#captain america#the first avenger#the winter soldier#civil war#tfatws#mcu spoilers#stop victim blaming#victim not villain#never a fucking villain#bucky deserved better#fuck marvel#fuck disney
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Here's something I'd love your take on: I read a meta recently (would link it but I can't remember where, ack) that suggested that Sam is able to forgive John in later seasons because a) he's had the whole "family making unilateral decisions for your own good" thing repeatedly shoved down his throat, and b) whatever John did under this umbrella in their childhoods, Dean has done far worse by that point, and Sam HAS to forgive him so by extension he can't really be mad at John anymore (1/2)
(2/2) As someone who has admittedly only seen bits and pieces of the later seasons, this seems to jive with Sam losing a lot of his characteristic early-seasons anger, letting Dean call the shots almost all the time even when he thinks it's the wrong move, and moments of sympathy for John (contrasted w/Dean's growing resentment, which is so interesting!). But! I got some big ol' gaps in my spn comprehension, so was curious if you had any thoughts on this dynamic
wow okay long answer warning! i got carried away and forgot how to use punctuation. nobody is obligated to read all of this lol and the biggest part of the answer is behind a cut. anyway!!
first things first: i think a big thing to remember with sam’s characterization in later seasons is that it’s like...not there, and when it is there, it’s sometimes flat and inconsistent. because dean became sole the main protagonist after the first 8 (arguably the first 5 or even first 2) seasons, sam sort of got demoted to “side character we don’t know what to do with” along with cas and crowley. they all had good arcs pop up now and then (sam had some fun stuff going on with lucifer in s11 and s13) but most of the time the writers either don’t know how to give him a meaningful characterization or don’t care (or both). so we have to do a lot of that work ourselves.
so, for example, when we talk about sam losing his anger, i like to read it as him OVERCOMING that anger to avoid becoming his father (which may even be where some of the seemingly sympathetic comments come from, because he’s trying to be forgiving instead of angry), but really...it’s that the writers forgot he had anger issues. in-universe explanation vs irl explanation, yk? and i think pretty much all meta about sam in late seasons is written through that lens, whether the writer of that meta knows it or not. including this one! i can’t prove any of this shit, it’s my personal reading, i’m making it up. like there were just SO many different people involved in the production of supernatural that there was a lot of conflict and contradictions in things like continuity and characterization. (most of the writers room hadn’t even seen every episode!) so there’s not one definitive way to go about it. in many ways it makes the characters more nuanced and in many other ways it makes me fucking insane.
as for sam and john and whether or not sam forgives him, i’m actually glad you asked because this has been driving me nuts for a long time and it took me SO LONG to pin it down - sam’s relationship with john is very different to dean’s, and i couldn’t figure out WHY. it’s not that he was “abused less,” it’s not that he loved john less or was less hurt by his actions, so why doesn’t he seem as INVESTED in everything that happened to them as kids? like he says in season 14 he had to learn to let it go and that it was all a lifetime ago for him. meanwhile i think dean still deals with it every day. he’s still stewing in it to some degree 24/7. so like what’s the difference??
i think it comes down to two things. firstly, that while dean didn’t have anybody parenting him except john (and mary, but only for a very short time that he could actually remember), SAM’S parents were john AND DEAN. most of the time dean was the one raising sam, and in fact he arguably did way more parenting of sam than john did. so the person that made dean feel safe and like he could fight back against monsters, the person he was grateful to, was john. but the person who made SAM feel safest was dean. he doesn’t have that same gratitude towards john that dean does and he never will, because of how john made him feel alienated and excluded from their family growing up. dean’s resentment of john is so tangled up in this very deep and unconditional love and gratitude for him that sam just doesn’t have.
secondly, i think dean has a serious case of “i can fix him” re: john that sam doesn’t have and possibly never had. john just never showed sam the same kind of inclusion and warmth and trust that he showed dean (however rarely he showed it, and however fucked up it was). i think sam figured out very very early on that their quest for yellow eyes was either a long shot or straight up impossible, and that they couldn’t waste their entire lives doing it, and that even if the demon died, john was never going to change. dean 100% drank the koolaid - he really truly believed in a world where someday they’d kill the demon and all retire from the life and be normal and be a family again, because that’s what john said and dean took his father’s word as gospel. sam knew better.
so i think what sam did was just disengage. partially because he felt he couldn’t afford to nurse that kind of anger and not become either his father or lucifer, and partially because even though sam loved john, still loves john, he never needed him the way dean did, because sam had dean. so it doesn’t hurt him as much to just “gray rock” it. i think if sam stopped and really dug into it he’d find that he’s still quite angry (probably more angry on dean’s behalf than his own, at least at first, because in his mind he was able to move past it and dean was not, dean had it worse, HIS OWN trauma isn’t real etc etc), but he doesn’t do that because he doesn’t want to be that angry, and possibly even thinks that if he brought it up dean would jump to john’s defense and it would cause a fight, which the opposite of what a gray rock does.
as for being forced to forgive john because if he didn’t he would also have to condemn dean...i don’t think i buy that at all. sam is fine making dean his exception and he allows dean to get away with a lot of deeply horrible shit he would condemn other people for. partially because he’s dean and sam loves him, but in my ~personal reading~ of sam, this is also because once sam became an adult the weight of everything dean did and had to give up to raise him really sank in, and part of him felt guilty (even though sam arguably didn’t have a childhood either). you know how kids take care of their parents in old age to repay them for raising them? that’s sort of how sam is with dean in later seasons - he implies multiple times that he would leave the hunting life forever and not look back if it weren’t for dean.
and as a side note - sorry, this is only tangentially related - dean implies several times in later seasons that the job is where he finds his sense of accomplishment and self-esteem and meaning - he believes the world is a better place because of what he and sam do, and even though he doesn’t always like DOING the job, he likes the outcome. it’s weird because this is as close as we see dean get to even HAVING self esteem. sam, emotionally intelligent, would have picked up on that - and since he and dean have both tried to leave the life multiple times and have always come to regret it, i also think part of sam believes you CAN’T escape - certainly SAM could never escape so long as dean was still in it, because whether he meant to or not dean would always pull him back in. and part of dean doesn’t really want to escape because he’s made his peace with it. so sam stays, and i think even if he can’t find the same meaning in the job that dean does, he finds a lot of meaning in being there for dean. (this, like gray rocking, is also consistent with the seasons where sam’s sole character trait is caring about dean lol. but i’m happy enough to read it in a kinder and less bitter/resentful way.)
it IS worth noting i think that the most forgiving sam ever was about john was in the adam episode, where he said he understood why he was the way he was and why he did what he did, and when dean said they were alike sam decided to take it as a compliment. sam in season 4 is arguably at one of his lowest points - struggling with addiction, consumed by anger and hatred and the need for revenge. he WAS like john in many ways, and i think he justified what john was doing because it also justified what HE was doing. but what he was doing led to breaking lucifer out of hell and the apocalypse that followed, which is why i like to think sam worked so hard to reign in his anger afterward - both to avoid his fate and avoid becoming his father.
in short: i don’t think sam has actually forgiven john so much as disengaged from him and moved past it. because if he DID engage with it, it’d bring up a whole lot of stuff he didn’t feel prepared to deal with. one of the risks of gray rocking things is doing it to the point that you lose touch with your own wants and needs and personality, so i think by late seasons sam’s repression, which is much more sneaky and quiet than dean’s, has settled in to the point where he’s like “yeah whatever” about dad out of sheer self preservation - because otherwise, he’d end up going crazy about it like dean does. i think it’d do him a hell of a lot of good to be able to get to shout at john and finally say his piece/ he’s really afraid of his own anger, but i think it’d be healthy for him to get back in touch with some of it.
[spn masterpost]
#liz answers asks#bimbonaparte#sam winchester#john winchester#liz makes stuff#liz's spn stuff#liz's meta#whew this was a long one sorry.#i am so glad you have the same icon on tumblr and ao3 i was replying TO YOUR COMMENT when i got this ask <3#fun cool coincidences!!!!!#anyway i didn't want to mention my fic but like this is why i had him yell in my fic. it's good for him#for himself and for dean he deserves to feel angry
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6x02: Two and a Half Men
Then:
Sam Winchester’s back from Hell
Now:
A woman runs with her baby from an unseen assailant in her house. She gets herself and her baby under the bed and they stay as quiet as possible. She sees her dead husband on the floor and can barely keep it together, but does, just in time for the assailant to pull her out from the bed, leaving the baby to watch the carnage.
Dean, Lisa, and Ben start unpacking their life in their new home.
Sam checks out the murdered couple. The baby is missing.
Dean orders pizza for lunch, disregarding Lisa’s earlier promise to Ben that they’ll check the neighborhood out when they go out for lunch.
Sam confers with Grampa Campbell about the case. Something weird is happening with babies. Sam doesn’t see it, but notices that the house has a security system that wasn’t set off by the invader. They have a lead.
Dean wanders into the garage to find Ben messing around with a shotgun from Baby's trunk. He makes it VERY clear that Ben will never shoot a gun.
Ben wants to do what Dean does. Dean turns on the ol’ John Winchester charm and yells at Ben to shut up about the gun. Ben backs down and walks away, dejected.
Samuel has found another family that has the same security system --and fits the profile of the previous victims. Sam heads out to find them.
Lisa confronts Dean about his altercation with Ben. She wants to know what’s up with Dean. If they killed what was after them, why is he acting like this? She gets that he’s trying to protect them, but he’s scaring her.
Sam gets to the couple’s house only to find them already murdered. He follows bloody footprints through the house.
The murderer pops out at him and they fight. Sam slices him with a silver knife, and the wound hisses. The assailant runs away.
While Dean secures the perimeter that night, Sam calls needing his help on a case. Dean insists that he’s out. Sam tells him something so interesting that Dean meets him.
Sam saved the baby!
The next morning, Dean hands Lisa a gun, tells her to salt the doors and windows, and takes off to work the case with Sam.
First on the agenda: shopping for baby supplies. As they’re checking out, the baby starts wailing. Neither brother knows what to do --and here I want to question what the hell Dean’s thinking. Sam has an excuse re: no soul, but Dean, you’ve taken care of a baby before. Anyway, they keep looking at the poor thing like it has two heads.
A nice woman comes up to coo over the baby and asks his name. Dean answers, “Bobby” and Sam answers, “John”. Yep, the baby is named Bobby John. She offers to change his diapers for them. Dean glances over at a security monitor and sees that her eyes are glowing.
Dean declines. More specifically he says, “Give me the baby before I stab you in the neck.” Bold. The lady takes off running with Bobby John. Sam wrestles the baby from her while Dean full body tackles her to the ground. She plays the old lady card and security comes after Dean. He runs.
Sam and Dean need to get off the road, especially since the shifter caught Sam’s license plate and is now a cop tracking the number.
At a motel, Dean changes Bobby John’s diaper and then hums him to sleep with Smoke on the Water. EVERY TIME I’m sorry to say this just makes my brain emit a low, steady brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
For Tender Dean Science:
Okay, I’ve rebooted.
Sam - who has spent the whole time seated in front of research material - is impressed at Dean’s fatherly chops. But like, HE RAISED YOU, SAMMY. You must at least be able to logically analyze your memories? Dean chalks up his skillz to his recent experience parenting Ben. “I know he’s not my kid, but lately I’ve been feeling like...yeah, he is.” He’d like to raise Ben better than they grew up. In related news, do you ever want to just chew off your own arm???
Soulless!Sam informs Dean that moving Lisa and Ben from place to place is just as bad as their own fractured childhood.
Sam pushes Dean to consider that his paranoid behavior is turning him into their father. I do like that Sam is helping my girl Lisa out with the traumatized man living in her home but DAMN, SAM. While Dean broods over his failures as both a father and a partner, Sam realizes that the dad in the recent deadly home invasion is still alive. He heads out, leaving Dean to dip his finger in whiskey and let Bobby John have a taste.
Bobby John’s dad is...not bereaved. His wife was cheating on him and got pregnant. (So apparently she deserved a gruesome death? Huh. Good to know, dude.) She denied she was cheating, telling him that he’d come back early from a trip and they’d had sex. It’s fun how the layers of trauma this cold open woman goes through just get worse and worse.
At the motel, Dean’s relaxing on the vibrating bed when there’s a wet explosion from the crib. It’s not a poopy diaper! When he peers over the crib, Bobby John’s an entirely new baby. (He’s the baby on the diapers box and I really hope those parents got to keep that prop!) Sam calls with a new theory - the baby’s father is a shapeshifter!
Bobby John gets cleaned up just in time for a shady manager to knock on the door and demand to be let in. The shapeshifter cop from earlier bursts in just as Dean unlocks the door. He’s there to bring the baby to “our father,” whomever that is! They engage in fisticuffs, until Sam arrives and shoots the shifter.
Later, they’re driving off with Bobby John to find a safe haven for the little tyke. “I didn’t even know they had babies,” Sam says, of shifters. “I thought they were just freaks of nature - like, X-Men style.” Gurl, please. He refers to Bobby John as a monster, but Dean insists that Bobby John is just an innocent baby. If I had a dollar for every time this show danced around this point only to fuck off and forget it in the next episode, I’d have a lot of dollars.
Sam suggests bringing Bobby John to the Campbells to raise, which Dean thinks is a monumentally poor idea. (I’m Dean/Cas endgame BUT imagine society if Dean had brought Lisa a shapeshifter baby to raise!!!) Sam “not all hunters” the Campbells, then says that Samuel is like Dean. This is...not the slam dunk argument Sam thinks it is. “I’m a freakin’ head case,” Dean rebuts and it is a SOLID REBUTTAL. Still, they head to the Campbell’s compound.
And it is a literal compound, with armed guards standing patrol at the metal gates. In the grim main building, cold Campbells circle Dean and Bobby John like sharks. All the Campbells look like they’re one step away from taking a knife to the baby. Dean refuses to hand over Bobby John to any of the “family.” Sam asks to hold Bobby John. Sam then immediately turns around and hands Bobby John over to Samuel and I CHEW MY OWN ARM OFF I HATE SOULLESS!SAM sometimes. Dean wants to know what the plan is now.
All the dark looks shot between the Campbells make me want to scream, and then weep.
Dean’s worried about the Campbells wanting to study Bobby John (in the mad scientist way) and Christian Campbell laconically comments that Dean’s mind goes straight to torture. When Dean demands an explanation, it’s revealed that the Campbells know aaalllll about Dean’s torture time in Hell.
The Campbells also fantasize about what a great hunter a shapeshifter will make. Samuel demands that Dean trust him, and then interrogates Christian about his baby-making failures with his wife. He offers Bobby John to Christian. “The crap I do for this family,” Christian mutters as he takes the baby. READERRRRRRRRRS, I hate him.
Outside, a dog yelps. Dean and Sam flee for the panic room with Bobby John while the Campbells load up with weapons. A shapeshifter arrives, wearing Samuel’s face. They tranquilize him after a fight, and try to take him prisoner.
The shifter heads down to the panic room wearing Sam’s face, tosses Sam across the room, and then just...shimmers himself into Dean’s form.
The shifter pins Dean against the wall, cutting off his air until he passes out. He then takes Bobby John and calmly walks out.
Later, they all reconvene after the fight. Samuel reveals that the shifter was an alpha shifter, who spawned all the other shifters. “The lore” also says that an alpha can sense their babies anywhere.
As Dean and Sam walk out to the car, Dean goes over the details of the hunt. He wants to know if Sam registered what the shifter at the motel had said about his “father.” Sam lies incredibly poorly, but Dean puts it all together. If Sam knew the alpha was on the hunt, then he would have known that he would come after Bobby John. Dean wants to know if he was using the baby as bait. Sam plays it off - he just thought the Campbell compound was the safest place. UGH DOUBLE UGH at all the terrible layers.
Samuel has a brief phone call, complaining to an unknown boss about how hard it was to try to take the alpha shifter prisoner.
Back at Lisa’s, Dean frets about the best way to keep Lisa and Ben safe. He acknowledges that he’s been acting like a prison guard. “You tell yourself you’re not gonna be something...my dad was exactly like this. All the time. Scared the hell outta me.” Lisa tells him that she knows one thing:
She looks at him, and sees someone who wants to hunt. But she also tells him that he sees himself as “some bad, awful thing. But you're not.” She proposes that Dean head out to hunt with his brother, and stop by when he can. Maybe they can have it all!
Dean smiles a real, honest smile in the garage as he pulls the car cover from Baby. Smoke on the Water plays us through a truly gratuitous hot rod close-up of Baby. The curves! The headlights!
For I’m Just Gonna Give You Two the Room Science:
Dean is back in town!
Baby Quotes:
So either we've got monsters grabbing babies to make baby stew, or we've got a bunch of psychotic yokels grabbing babies to make baby stew. Either way, it's baby stew, which is bad
You think I speak baby?
I've never seen a baby monster before
Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!
#spn recap#dean winchester#sam winchester#Lisa Braeden#Samuel Campbell#Ben Braeden#spn 6x02#two and a half men#supernatural season 6
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Major Updates to My Weird Idea (that includes my Nightside OCs)
Go check my previous post on this - HERE
This is mainly an update for @schizoauthoress , @the--blackdahlia , @spacelizardtrashboys , @enigmaticandunstable and @piratewithvigor and I personally think @nattinngrst might like this.
I went on a trip to the beach yesterday with my parents and my older brother (who I bored and annoyed with this idea and you'll see some of his influence in this here post)
Anything written in italics is meant to be taken as a joke as you read through this wall of text, sending good vibes as always, hope y'all are doing well.
The show is set in Canadian, Texas (real place: Wikipedia). I'm thinking of this show starting in the mid-to-late 90s (1996/1997).
I've managed to do several things with that weird sitcom idea, so, where to start, how about with the three potential titles:
1 - Neighbourhood Watch
2 - First Call
3 - First Round (Which my brother likes)
Here are some options for bar names, starting with the Cop bar:
1 - The Donut Hole
2 - The Roasted Hog (which my big bro suggested)
3 - The Sherriff's Outpost
And the Biker Bar:
1 - The Handlebar Inn
2 - The Steel Horse Saloon
3 - The Rebel Room
Next on the list of updates: Cast additions, character roles and (Finally after 2 days) Names for Everyone!!
I'll start with the Cop Bar's owner & staff:
Rosalina Asturias 'Rosa' (Played by Billie Martinez) an employee of the local cop bar. Didn't grow up in the town, moved here for work.
Violet Croft (Played by Eli Herne) an employee. Grew up in town, never left, has the hots for one of the guys in the local police.
Sunshine Crawford 'Sunny' (Played by Holly Di Antonio) an employee. Grew up in town, left for college and came back.
Roscoe Power 'Ross' (Played by Jimmy Hart) the loudmouth who owns the bar, grew up in town, used to be a car salesman.
Olesya Pavlovsky 'Olivia' (Played by Penelope Voronin) an employee who grew up in town and has immigrant parents, goes by 'Olivia' because she would rather you don't f*** up her actual name.
Winona Vance (Played by Sam Griffin Silver) an employee who moved here from New York, for unknown reasons, and doesn't really understand the small town, everyone knows everyone lifestyle.
Lavender Whittemore (Played by Victoria Lucifarian) an employee who grew up in England but moved to live in America, settled in Canadian, Texas due to her love of westerns.
Next: The Local Police Squad:
Sergeant Valentine Gautier 'Val' (Played by Bret Hart) recently promoted before the series begins but still on patrol duty, watches over his younger brother.
Corporal Buck Morris 'Buckshot' (Played by Davey Boy Smith) the gun loving corporal of the squad and the only one to have both 'work' and 'home' guns.
Captain Napoleon Cooper 'Crazy Cooper' / 'Captain Crazy' (Played by Jim Neidhart) the police captain, recently reassigned to Canadian, Texas as there were rumours abut him which interfered with his work in his previous location.
Officer Duke Gautier (Played by Owen Hart) the young, recently recruited brother of Sgt Gautier, often put on patrol alone to ensure less arguments, but always checked on by his brother.
Next: The Biker Bar's Staff:
Ozzy Rains (Played by Charles Wright) A biker and member of the staff who grew up just outside of town but loves his fellow staff members like family.
Brock Martel (Played by Henry Godwin) a biker and member of the staff who grew up on a local ranch and loves beer, football and the current Mayor's down-to-Earth style.
Vincent Gore 'Vinnie' (Played by Kane) the owner's son and a known fire loving 'freak' often protected by his surrogate family, the bar staff, Vinnie knows no better than 'ooh, cool looking fire' and must be restrained or have his hands swatted away to stop him burning himself trying to touch campfires.
Raven Knight (Played by Kirby Roussimoff) the only female staff member, but also the girl who does all the tough jobs when needed, has a side business of making and selling artwork, such as portraits to locals, has designed some of the bar staff's tattoos.
Harlow Gore (Played by Paul Bearer) the owner of the bar and a loving father to his son, took Murphy (Undertaker) under his wing when they first met and also treats him, and the rest of staff, like family.
Hunter King (Played by Phineas Godwin) Brock's cousin and a member of staff, taught Raven how to shoot a shotgun and his father owns a local tattoo parlour.
Sequoia Reed (Played by Rikishi) an employee and Frankie's (Yokozuna) cousin, also a surrogate cousin to Raven, having been best friends since childhood. Reed loves his job and his staff family and will defend both at any cost.
Lupe Zapatero (Played by Savio Vega) an employee at the bar and possibly the shortest member of staff, towered over by the tallest staff members but is not any less of a fighter because of his size, a former mechanic who loves nothing more than taking things apart and putting them back together while listening to metal / rock.
Murphy Graves (Played By The Undertaker) Manager of the biker bar and an excellent member of staff, has an outlaw rules vibe, as in he would say to the police "Your jurisdiction ends when you walk in my bar." Very protective of the staff, and the owner.
Frankie Wolf (Played by Yokozuna) the most relaxed and laid-back of the staff, Frankie would prefer to be in the kitchen making potential 'Culinary Masterpieces' as he would call them. Sequoia and Raven's (surrogate) cousin, views his staff mates as family.
Next: The Local Band (Named: Exoskeleton Samurai)/College Students
Quinn Thorn (Played by Jeff Hardy) the bassist to Ros' (Lita) vocals / lead Guitar and older brother Garth's (Matt) Drums, a face paint enthusiast and an English major in college who never seems to find time to study, but always has time to date somehow.
Roz Jerome (Played by Lita) the vocals and lead guitar for the band and an art major who actually studies, dating Garth (Matt) and met Quinn through him. Roz also studies Spanish and French.
Garth Thorn (Played by Matt Hardy) Quinn's older brother and the band's drummer, a major in psychology and a horror movie lover, Roz' boyfriend and almost totally devoted to her, even at the cost of his college work.
Next: The Local Townsfolk of Note:
Mayor Robert Sweet (Played by Jim Duggan) rarely seen, but apparently a good man with good ideas, helps out in volunteer projects and absolutely loves the town. Trying his hardest and people know this, and they love him. (did I meme correctly?)
Rusty Jarvis (Played by Mick Foley) the local hippie who has never left town, somehow managing to know both everything and nothing at the same town. (Very Dude Love with hints of Cactus Jack and Mankind) Does know how to fight when he needs to.
Redd Wayne (Played by 'Sycho' Sid Vicious/Justice) the local baseball/softball star, helps out at the local school/college teaching sports and likes Raven's artwork, he watches her draw when he can, runs the local little league & minor league baseball/softball games.
Earl Black (Played by Steve Austin) the most often seen regular at the biker bar, absolutely loves both the bar and the town, a hardworking guy who has befriended the entire staff (including Harlow and Vinnie) of the biker bar.
Lex Aston (Played by The Rock) a local struggling actor, teaching an acting class to pay the bills and an absolute ladies man, and for that reason he goes to the cop bar, to try and pick up one of the bartenders who works there, often favouring Rosa as she will jokingly flirt back.
Finally (for this section): The Degenerates and Their Benefactors:
Reign Yates (Played by Billy Gunn) Leon's (Road Dogg) best friend, often the getaway driver for the group and a scout for locations, often getting all the info on a place before telling Matty (H.H.H) and Dell (HBK). Often leaves town with Leon to get the heat off them. (and make out in secret)
Zelda Hooper (Played by Chyna) the only female degenerate but possibly the toughest, has a rap sheet as big as her arms, not to be trusted when around the other degenerates as she is usually the actual brains of the operation.
Matty Battle (Played by Hunter Hearst Helmsley) the co-leader of the degenerates, often protected by Zelda or Mark (Kevin Nash). does most of the talking but has the piss taken of him for his looks often by either other degenerates or locals who don't care for the degenerates.
Romeo Colombera (Played by Mike Rotundo/I.R.S) the right hand man of the mysterious benefactor, and often the lawyer for the degenerates as well as a taskmaster for them, telling them what the boss wants done and by what date.
Mark Rake (Played by Kevin Nash/Diesel) the tallest degenerate with a rap sheet as long as his leg, a former bouncer at a now closed nightclub, alongside best friend (and possibly boyfriend) Galo (Scott Hall) and now a bodyguard (when needed) for Matty and Dell (HBK, also boyfriends).
Leon Rose (Played by Road Dogg) best friend of Reign and a scout for the group alongside him. Has found every possible way to piss off other townsfolk and often in the most fights because of it, always on the police's radar for one thing or another and constantly leaving town because of it.
Galo Villalobos (Played by Scott Hall/Razor Ramon) the only (supposedly) Latino degenerate, raised in Canadian, Texas but his parents are from Cuba, Galo is a former nightclub bouncer (alongside Mark) Galo is known (for his ability to give minus fucks) as the most relaxed member of the group.
Dell Pain (Played by Shawn Michaels/HBK) the co-leader alongside Matty, a known flirt with people regardless of gender or sexuality, just to piss them off on some occasions. Dell grew up in town, knowing it like the back of his hand.
Giles Rennell (Played by Ted DiBiase) the mysterious benefactor of the group, bailing them out if needed, he stumbled across the group after seeing a police bulletin and decided to use them to cause enough chaos to guarantee a chance in the next mayoral election.
Zac Noel (Played by X-Pac) the shortest and youngest degenerate, Zac is often treated as the child of the group, being taught how to get away with crimes and trick the police into just letting him go by clerical error and tomfoolery.
Next on my list of updates: Season 1's episode list, episode titles, episode synopses, some spoilers, and the revolving door idea a bit further explained.
Series running order:
Biker bar episode
Cops on Patrol episode
Band/College Students episode
Cop bar episode (yes these are different)
Degenerates episode
(last episode of each season/series only) town meeting/town get-together (E.X: town hall meetings, the town getting together for a sports game or barbeque or restaurant opening)
1x01: Insert Coin to Start: The pilot episode of the series sees the local biker bar of Canadian, Texas installing two, brand new, arcade machines. After leaving for the night, the team finds the bar broken into and both machines missing with no evidence or possible suspects to the robbery. The team finds the machines relatively undamaged in an alleyway nearby. By the end of the episode there's still no suspects. B plot includes an argument between father and son, Harlow and Vincent which ends when Murphy gets involved.
1x02: Hot Pursuit: Newly instated chief of police Chief Cooper [Neidhart] makes changes to the patrol teams before tasking them with looking for any persons involved with (1x01)'s robbery and break-in, leading to a high speed chase later in the episode. B plot includes the squad coming to grips with the new, and much crazier, police chief.
1x03: Making Noise: Local band Exoskeleton Samurai [Team Extreme] are writing new music late at night while Roz [Lita] tries to study for a class the following day but, during a moment of quiet, they hear a break in a couple of doors down and attempt to see who it is. The group get a glimpse of Zac Noel [X-Pac] and Mark Rake [Nash] but not a full glimpse. Now aware of the local degenerates, the band try and forget about it and focus on their own lives until their apartment gets broken into when they're not there.
1x04: Donuts & Beer: The new cop bar opens on the other side of town, serving mainly (both savoury and sweet) bagels and donuts as well as beer (on tap and bottled), the fact it's slightly more risqué gets (both good and bad) attention on the place. Winona Vance [Sam] gets in a fight with Zac Noel [X-Pac] as she's locking up. Winona [Sam] being put in the hospital with a broken arm makes the rest of [Cop Bar]'s staff double down on getting justice for the near break-in.
1x05: Dirty Work: The first episode from the degenerates perspective. The degenerates are just causing general problems for the town without reason because it's fun' but it's quickly losing their interest as the heat on them rises. The end of the episode has Matty Battle [Triple H] receiving a call from 'Mister R' [DiBiase] offering him a deal.
1x06: Blue & Black: A brawl breaks out at [Biker Bar] following whispers that the people who broke in are in the building. The bikers who work at the bar threaten to hurt anyone who works for the rival bar if they try and mess with business while in the biker bar.
1x07: Captain Crazy: A rumour that the current captain was moved location and promoted to smooth over allegations that he may not be fully sane, Officer Duke Gautier [Owen] is determined to find the truth while Sergeant Valentine Gautier [Bret] and Corporal Buck Morris [Davey Boy] are determined to keep the peace and catch the local degenerates.
1x08: Broken Strings: following an argument with an ex girlfriend Quinn Thorn [Jeff] finds his guitar smashed and has to work odd jobs to buy another one (starting a potential series c plot). Garth Thorn [Matt] ends up in a fight with Galo Villalobos [Hall] which ends when Roz Jerome [Lita] smashes a table leg over the back of Galo's [Scott's] head, knocking him out and giving him over to the police.
1x09: Badges & Bottle Tops: Captain Cooper [Neidhart] stops by [cop bar] to talk with owner Roscoe Power [Jimmy Hart]. Meanwhile the Gautier boys [Owen & Bret] interrogate Galo Villalobos [Scott Hall] about what the degenerates are doing and why, getting no information about the mysterious benefactor over than he pays them a lot of money depending on what they do.
1x10: Paid off: The mysterious benefactor 'Mister R' [DiBiase] pays Galo's [Scott's] bail, getting him free for a while but side-lining him too. The benefactor remains hidden in shadow but Matty & Dell [Triple H & HBK] have a meeting with him to discuss money and the next job.
1x11: Written in Ink: the tattooed bikers on the staff encourage regular customer Earl Black [Austin] to get a skull tattoo on his back and even take him with them to the tattoo parlour they frequent, finding it to be burned to the ground with a 'freaks get lost' sign planted in the wreckage. Murphy Graves [Undertaker] dismisses the rumours that the arsonist is the fire fascinated Vincent Gore [Kane] and even gives him an alibi when the cops come looking for answers, putting blame on someone in town who knows about Vinnie's [Kane's] love of fire, which is nearly every person in town.
1x12: Sergeant Heartbreaker: Sergeant Gautier [Bret] is accused of flirting with the staff at [Cop bar] leading to a paid two day leave to get heat off of him while he's ordered to remain at home. Officer Gautier [Owen] and Corporal Morris [Davey Boy] are put on patrol together, leading to a high speed chase of Reign Yates, Leon Rose & Zelda Hooper [Gunn, Road Dogg & Chyna] after witnessing a mugging, assault and graffiti from the trio, the cops eventually lose them down a back road on private Giles Rennell's [DiBiase's] land they would need a warrant for.
1x13: Failing Grade: Quinn's [Jeff's] lack of sleep leads to him getting a fail on an test forcing him to do the semester again. Enraged by this Quinn [Jeff] considers leaving the school but is encouraged to continue following Garth [Matt] ending up in hospital following [1x12]'s assault and mugging on Garth & Roz [Matt & Lita].
1x14: Microphones & Megaphones: [cop bar]'s owner Roscoe Power [Jimmy Hart] installs a stage for local acts in the bar, leading to Violet Croft [Eli] performing later that episode (the closing of the episode into the credits) and the night before the first performance the bar is covered in graffiti, leading to a massive clean up effort from the staff and local volunteers (like Mick Foley & The Rock).
1x15: Trench Warfare: Romeo Colombera [IRS] the benefactor's [DiBiase's] right hand man and go-to lawyer gives the degenerates an list of jobs, run the police chief out of town by the end of the year, run the bikers out of town, and ensure that 'Mister R' [DiBiase] the benefactor wins the next mayoral election.
1x16: Fuelling Up: after closing up [biker bar] Raven Knight [Kirby] narrowly avoids being burned by her motorbike exploding in a ball of fire. Her boss, Harlow Gore [Bearer] tells her to take the week off, leading to her coming into the bar and sitting at the back of the bar, sketching the regular customers and having a long conversation with local sports star Redd Wayne [Sid].
1x17: Brothers in Arms: Together: the Gautier brothers [Bret & Owen] are put on patrol together leading to the arrest of Zelda, Matty & Dell [Chyna, Triple H & HBK] before the trio are bailed out, the brothers interrogate Dell Pain [HBK] (leading to a very 'basic instinct'-esque scene with Shawn in assless chaps and boxer briefs) who gives them no information on their behaviour and why they are doing the things they've done.
1x18: Night Time Fun: the band attends a college party, unknowingly with Zac Noel [X-Pac] also in attendance, leading to the trio being high and drunk and the Thorn brothers [Matt & Jeff] end up in a fight, almost being thrown out of college entirely for their actions the next morning.
1x19: Head or Hart: Violet Croft [Eli] and (officer) Duke Gautier [Owen] meet properly for the first time on a blind date, leading to them walking through the streets of Canadian, Texas at night. The date is quickly ended after Duke [Owen] spots Leon Rose [Road Dogg] spray painting [cop bar] and gives chase after handing Violet [Eli] his number.
1x20: Grunt Work: The degenerates have a group meeting about how to sabotage the town meeting, leading to Rennell [DiBiase] coming out of the shadows to lead the degenerates in a coordinated attack on the town hall. Leading to the degenerates waiting until the town meeting to begin the next day.
1x21: Town Meeting: Mayor Robert Sweet [Duggan] conducts a town meeting, leading to everyone airing their grievances with the degenerates recent spree of activity. At the end of the meeting, paint bombs hidden above the townsfolk go off all at once, covering everyone in bright, almost neon, green paint.
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The Real People of Black Sails!
Here’s a quick(I promise....I promise this is as short as I could make it without leaving out some really choice shit) rundown of all the real historical figures peppered throughout Black Sails! I think I caught them all but if you know of others please mention them and I’ll add them on! Under a readmore because this is....so long y’all.
Pirates & Maroons
Anne Bonny (possibly 1697 – unknown; possibly April 1782) Started life crossdressing at her dad’s behest to avoid his wife(who wasn’t Bonny’s mom), married a guy her dad didn’t like, moved to Nassau. There her husband became a spy for Rogers and Anne was like ‘Not cool bro’. She met Jack, they started fucking, and Anne discovered she was really good at stabbing things. Resumed dressing as a man and started trying to seduce Mary Read who was also dressed as a man. They did indeed fall victim to one of the classic queer blunders. Anyway, Anne’s like ‘it’s not gay I’m a chick!’ And Mary is like ‘really?? Then it’s a little gayer than you realize because I’m a chick too!’ They (probably) start banging. Rackham’s like ‘hang on! I’m the only dick in Anne’s life’ and Mary and Anne are like ‘you sure are’ and Mary shows him her boobs and then they have some sort of complicated and probably not totally consensual threeway. Then they get captured because, Jack is That Guy Who Was Too Drunk To Realize His Ship Was Under Attack and Mary and Anne had to defend the ship against like, a whole other crew. Jack is hung(not a dick joke), but both Anne and Mary plead stays of execution due to pregnancy. Anne disappears but possibly is maybe referred to later. No one knows. Neat!
Edit: According to sources from this post there is a genealogical record that refers to Anne and it records her death as 1782. Very neat!
Israel Hands (c.1701-death unknown) Israel Hands was a real pirate and Blackbeard’s first mate. Not much else is known about where he came from or his life, other than that Blackbeard shot him in the knee at one point while supposedly aiming for another man. ‘Oops my bad this pistol is from like, the 18th century or something.’ While recuperating in Bath he was arrested after Teach’s death but took a pardon in exchange for ratting out the colonial officials who had been bribed by Teach. It’s unknown what happened to him after that although That Book About Pyrites says he died a beggar in London.
Benjamin Hornigold (1680–1719) Horny4gold was one of the most well known and influential pirates of the Golden Age. Most other pirates sailed under him or with him at one point, and he was one of the founders of the Pirate Republic of Nassau. He never attacked british ships during his time as captain so that he could be like ‘but brooooo I was acting in Britain’s Interests!!! Bro!!!!!’ But his co-pirates didn’t like that and eventually voted to replace him with Sam Bellamy. He accepted the king's pardon in 1718 and became a pirate hunter instead. Bummer. He was reportedly killed in a shipwreck.
Okay listen Horingold in any universe is a fucking JOKE I have to share this passage with y’all:
“Hornigold is recorded as having attacked a sloop off the coast of Honduras, but as one of the passengers of the captured vessel recounted, "they did us no further injury than the taking most of our hats from us, having got drunk the night before, as they told us, and toss'd theirs overboard"” WHAT A JOKE.
Dr. Howell - (birth/death unknown) John Howell was a pirate surgeon forced into service by Hornigold sometime in early 1717. He sailed with various pirate crews until October before returning into the service of Governor Rogers.
Ned Low (1690–1724) N’EDWARD. Okay I’m serious again. Born in London, Lowe grew up a thief in a thief family before moving to Boston. His wife died in childbirth in 1719, so he decided ‘fuck it I’ll become a Pirate Captain’ and did just that. He was known for torturing the people on board the ships he captured before murdering them and burning the ship. Interestingly though, Lowe was known to have a huge amount of regret over abandoning his daughter when he turned pirate, and wouldn’t force married men into his service. He also reportedly would allow women to return to port safely. Because of his numerous captures and cruelties, he was one of the most well known pirates in his day. There are differing reports about Low’s death - some say his crew mutinied and marooned him and he was subsequently hung, others say his ship sunk in a storm, and some say he just straight up disappeared. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Jack Rackham - (December 26, 1682 – November 18, 1720) Really a pirate, really named himself after a housecat pattern. (No, okay, he didn’t, it was because of his threads. But wouldn’t the cat thing fit too?) Sailed with Vane, Anne Bonny, and Mary Read. Was mostly known for being That Guy Who Was Too Drunk To Realize His Ship Was Under Attack and being Anne and Mary’s captain. He was captured and sentenced to hang after the aforementioned Drunk Blunder in 1720.
Mary/Mark Read - (1685 – 28 April 1721) Much like Anne Bonny, Mary dressed as a boy for much of her youth so a parent could swindle someone out of money. From her teenage years on she continued dressing as a man to find work in the military and as a sailor. She did marry but her husband died young and so she decided to become a pirate. Like ya do. She accepted the king’s pardon in 1718, then mutinied on the privateer she was aboard, once again becoming a pirate. Because pirates are sexy. In 1720 she joined Jack Rackham’s crew and sailed with him and Bonny. Cue the whole ‘Hey you’re hot, also I’m a woman.’ ‘Oh, hey, same hat!’ with Anne. In November of 1720, Rackham’s ship was captured. Mary died of a fever in prison(likely due to her pregnancy) in 1721.
Edward Teach - (c. 1680 – 22 November 1718) He started piracy sailing under Hornigold, and built the fleet alongside him and Stede Bonnet until Hornigold retired. COOL fact about Blackbeard is he was a MASTER showman who liked to light slow burning fuses under his hat to scare his enemies, and he relied more heavily on creating an image his prizes feared than violence. He did a lot of cool shit including ransoming the entire town of Charles Town and annoying the shit out of Woodes Rogers before settling in Bath and later dying of like, a shit ton of wounds while battling Lieutenant Maynard. The battle on Roger’s ship is pretty much what happened minues the keelhauling. Afterwards he was beheaded, his head hung from the bow of Maynard’s ship, and his body was thrown in the bay in Bath, where it’s said his ghost still haunts! Funky!
Charles Vane - (1680 – 29 March 1721) Really a pirate captain! Known for being Not A Nice Dude. Sailed with Henry Jennings, Edward England and Jackie Rackhammie. He led the pirates in resisting Rogers in Nassau, and yeah he really did light a ship on fire and 18th centuryeet it into Rogers’ line in order to escape. There’s a note that he returned to Nassau to get married but I couldn’t find any info on who he married so he’s gay now. That’s a rule I just made up. Anyway so at one point his ship got into a fight with another ship and Vane ordered a retreat and the crew was like ‘this is BOOshit’ and voted him out in favor of Jack Rackham. Ouch. Vane and some of the crew that supported him left aboard the Katherine(I believe) but then they got caught in a storm that said ‘fuck you specifically to Charles Vane,’ and he was marooned on an island. He survived! Just long enough for a British ship to stop at the island for him to attempt to board, get caught, and then hung. Deus ex piratica.
(Honorary mentions)
John Silver + Captain Flint (sort of but I’m not kidding!) Okay so of course there are a bunch of suspected origins of the characters of Captain Flint and Long John Silver, but the one I like the most is of two brothers - one of whom had a peg leg! - who captured an enormous Spanish treasure and buried it near Ocracoke island. Their names were John and Owen Lloyd. (And yes, John was the one-legged brother.) In 1750 a Spanish treasure fleet named the Flotas de Indias attempted to sail from Havana to Spain in late August, and three ships were wrecked during a hurricane. By a stroke of luck, the Lloyd brothers had been blown to the same inlet as the wrecked ships Guadalupe and Soledad , and managed to convince the Captain to hire them to transport the treasure to Norfolk.
But of course because they thought the Spanish SUCKED they said ‘psyche’ and just fucked off with it while the Captain was fighting Bureaucratic red tape in North Carolina. Iconique. Owen Lloyd reportedly buried the treasure on Norman Island and the pair became folk heroes in the area, particularly in St. Kitts. (P.s., the Stevenson family ran a sugar production business on St. Kitts, and R.L. Stevenson’s great grandfather worked there as early as 1773 - just 25 years after the epic heist. COOL STORY BRO.)
Captain Throckmorton (Okay not really but I just love this guy’s name) Okay so this guy wasn’t really a pirate captain but he was a Steamboat captain in the 1830s and his name is just too ridiculous for someone to make up. Toot toot, motherfucker.
---------
Queen Nanny(Maroon Queen/Madi) (c. 1686 – c. 1755) The spiritual, cultural, and military leader of the Windward Maroons (who the Black Sails Maroons are based on.) She led them alongside her ‘brother’ Quao although the relationship between them isn’t known. Exact information about her origins are not known but best guess is that she was of royal lineage from present-day Ghana, born sometime in the 1680’s. She did have a husband named Adou(who may have been the same person as Quao? I’ve read conflicting stuff), but they had no children. Many of the guerilla warfare tactics we now think of as common practice were developed by Queen Nanny and the other Maroons in their fight against British incursions. (The trap that Flint lays, covering themselves with paint and leaves, and the pits the Maroons lay in the forest are tactics known to have been used by the Windward Maroons.)
Nanny was a fucking legend okay a LEGENDS ONLY legend. She was one of the most instrumental people in preserving African culture among freed slaves and Maroons, and in encouraging the resistance to slavery in the Bahamas and surrounding areas. She was one of three leaders of the First Maroon War (which the war in Black Sails is based on). She initially refused to sign the treaty offered to Cudjoe because she knew the British were losing and was like ‘Why????? Would I surrender???? In a war??? I’m winning?????’
Anyway Queen Nanny was a fucking badass please read every piece of literature you can find on her. (You should absolutely read her full bio because she was fucking badass.)
Cudjoe (not exactly, but Julius is very close) (c. 1690s – 1764) Likely a freeborn son of one of the original escaped slaves turned Maroons, Cudjoe is hailed as one of the greatest Maroon leaders(after Queen Nanny). Much like in Black Sails, these original Maroons were slaves who escaped or overran their masters, forming free communities in the Mountains of Jamaica. The treaty in Black Sails is based on the one Cudjoe negotiated with the British, wanting an ‘honorable peace’ with the enemy, rather than the continued war and better terms that Queen Nanny and Quao wanted. (sound familiarrrrrr?) I do want to note that by the end of his life he became completely disillusioned with the idea that the British should be reasoned with and basically started fights with every British superior he could.
The English, Spanish, and Scottish!
The Guthries So while there wasn’t ever a female head of the Guthrie clan in Nassau, the Guthries were a Scottish merchant clan who emigrated to Boston around 1652 due to religious and racial persecution. While most of the family stayed around Pennsylvania and Massachusetts, John Guthrie moved to Virginia and his brother James Guthrie moved to Bermuda sometime after 1683.
(James Guthrie of Suffolk County, Massachusetts was listed in the will of John Richardson, dated 7 May 1683, in which Richardson says, “I give and bequeath unto James Guthrie all I have in the world except twenty shillings to buy John Harris a ring and ten shillings to buy John Kyte a ring.” This was witnessed by John Raynsford and John Ramsey.) Fellas is it gay.
Anyway, between Virginia and Boston and James’ ties in the Bermuda islands, the family made a shit ton fencing pirated goods during the Golden Age of Piracy, particularly from the Pirate Republic of Nassau.
A John Guthrie(likely a son of James’) was also a Colonel who was part of the peace talks with Cudjoe and the Maroons. Neat!
James Oglethorpe (22 December 1696 – 30 June 1785) Okay listen Oglethorpe was COOL AS FUCK. He is the founder of the colony of Georgia and is imo who Thomas Hamilton is probably based on. Oglethorpe was a HUGE humanitarian and even before he decided to form an entire colony around people not owning slaves. He advocated for better conditions for sailors, and prison reform. In 1732 he read a letter by a slave in Maryland named Ayuba Suleiman Diallo and on the spot decided slavery was terrible, divested himself of his stock in the African Trading Company, and resolved to include a law banning slavery in Georgia to the colony’s charter. Radical, man.
Speaking of Georgia, and specifically his plantation near Savannah, Oglethorpe actively spoke with the native Yamacraw who populated the land to ask permission and trade for the land he sought to build Georgia on. His plantation was meant to help debtors in London, released without any support, from falling back into debt and offering them a way forward to landownership through indentured servitude. I highly recommend anyone interested in early attempts at an equality based colonial system read up on the original charter of Georgia. (Of course there were still problems, but Oglethorpe was one of the most prominent proponents of a non hierarchical society - including limits to the acreage any person could own based on how helpful that land was to the people who worked it, and communal resources.) Oglethorpe was also a lifelong friend with Tomochichi, the chief of the Yamacraw, and worked very closely with him on colonial-indigenous relations.
Vincente de Raja (birth/death unknown) He was the real Governor and military Captain of Cuba from 1716-1717. He was a devoted pirate hunter and encouraged Spanish privateering against the pirates. Due to an attempt by Spain to increase tobacco profits at the expense of the farmers, there was a large revolt which resulted in many of the Cuban officials, including Raja, being replaced.
William Rhett (4 September 1666 – 12 January 1723) He was a merchant captain and plantation owner in Carolina who served in the colonial militia and hunted pirates. He captured Stede Bonnet and was probably just as much of an asshole as he is in the show.
Woodes Rogers - (c. 1679 – 15 July 1732) The Governor of Nassau who was largely responsible for ending piracy in the Bahamas. He really did offer a universal pardon, which a large number of the pirates took. Fun fact: before he was Governor, he rescued Alexander Selkirk, who is believed to be the guy Robinson Crusoe is based off of! Neat! He really did have a brother who really did die during his privateering exploits which also really did leave him ‘disfigured’. He got sued by his crew, went bankrupt, wrote a book, got famous for writing the book, and he really did have a wife named Sarah whom he divorced shortly after all this happened. He then became Governor of Nassau for the first time. This first term did end in him being imprisoned for debts incurred defending the island from Vane and Teach and the Spanish, but he was released, helped write that most famous A General History of the Robberies and Murders of the Most Notorious Pyrates, and became governor again in 1728. He died in 1732 of just plain exhaustion from dealing with the bureaucracy. Alexa play tiny violin.
#black sails#anne bonny#jack rackhem#charles vane#benjamin hornigold#mary read#john howell#israel hands#ned lowe#john silver#captain flint#captain throckmorton#queen nanny#cudjoe#edward teach#eleanor guthrie#james oglethorpe#vincente de raja#william rhett#woodes rogers#milos black sails meta#black sails meta#history#world history#anyway rights only for queen nanny and james oglethorpe#and anne and mary#god i hope this readmore works i am so sorry if it doesnt#long post
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*** Episode 2 Chapter 4 (STSF) ***
Dean leaned back in the booth. “Since I have you here, can I ask you something?”
“I get the feeling you’re gonna ask me more than something.”
He smirked and continued, “Do you trust me?”
“That’s kind of...” She paused, “Yeah.”
“Why don’t you trust my brother?”
“Sam didn’t tell you?” She shifted and Dean could see the discomfort in her face. “We tried to— I tried to connect with him.”
“It didn’t turn out well.”
“What happened?”
“I saw things I probably shouldn’t have. Instead of those thoughts and feelings flowing back and forth between us, it was all coming from him and going into me. Couldn’t control it.”
“What’d you see?”
She closed her eyes and focused her breathing, bringing it all back to her memory. “There was this person—a man. No, not a man. He had these yellow eyes."
“You saw Azazel. Did you see what he did?”
“No, but I tasted it.”
“And the other times.”
"And everything else."
“There was so much. There was Hell."
"Then almost like he felt…nothing"
“…and he did things… I can’t really judge him based on those actions. And there were a few beautiful things."
“Did you see Lucifer?” Dean asked.
“Yes. He was beautiful.”
“Beautiful?”
Y/N thought of his radiant grace. “His true form was beautiful, but I could also feel the terror. The fact that he was beautiful is no comparison to that feeling.” She thought for a moment. “There were two others in the cage. One was an angel, but don’t know who the other was.”
“Yeah… His name was Adam.”
“Who was he?”
“Our brother. We were related through dad. Michael used him as a vessel and they ended up in the cage with Sam and Lucifer.”
“Oh...” Y/N tried to find anything else to look at. Why hadn’t they told her about any of this?
“I don’t feel like talkin’ about it right now.”
I guess that’s fair, considering I’ve only known them two and a half weeks, she thought.
“What about Cas? Why have you been avoiding him?” Dean questioned.
“I don’t know. I just don’t feel right around him.”
Dean thinks about it for a moment. “Let’s start with something small about you.”
“As in?”
“What’s your last name?
Y/N rolled her eyes. “How many times do I need to have this conversation before you believe me? I don’t know. Or I don’t have one... It’s difficult to find that information without an official document. I wasn’t born in a hospital.”
“You sayin’ you don’t know who your parents are?”
She sighed, “Actually, I don’t care.”
“How can you not care?”
“They decided to check out early and tried to take me with them. That’s how.”
This revelation was unexpected and Dean didn’t know what to say.
“Look, I don’t know anything relevant to my life before 1995.” She continued. "Can we have fun now?”
“Alright, fine. You tell me what you want to tell me.”
“I was raised in a group home."
"Sort of. Someone saved me from my parents' death trap.”
When his senses returned, he prodded her for more. “How old are you?”
“I don’t know exactly how old I am, but I was somewhere between 3 and 5 in 1995. Stopped aging in 2016, I think. At least, enough to be noticeable.”
“So you’re in your 30s?”
Y/N shrugged, “Best guess. Only it’s not that simple. There are feelings, thoughts, languages...like memories, in my head. Stuff there's no way I would know if I’m only in my thirties. I often question if what I remember is real or if the other stuff is.”
“What are some of those memories?”
“Actually sounds like you might have a lot in common with Cas.”
"Do you remember what I showed you?” Y/N asked.
“Nothing specific. It all runs together like—“
“Indecipherable thoughts strung together.”
"Within an acid trip.”
"Yeah", she agreed.
Dean swallowed, "Just thinkin' about it makes me want another drink."
“Tell me something about you that know one knows.”
“Sam is the only person who knows almost everything about me and the things he doesn’t know are way too private to be telling anyone else.”
“So tell me something almost no one knows about you.” Y/N pressed after too many drinks.
“I had a daughter.”
Y/N stopped completely, and stared at Dean. “Had? What happened?”
“She was killed.”
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s not the worst part.”
Dumbfounded, Y/N had to ask, “What could make that worse?”
“Sam’s the one who killed her.”
Y/N’s eyes were fixed to Dean’s trying to figure out if he was telling some morbid joke that she didn’t understand. “H-how—?”
“She was trying to kill me.”
Y/N was trying to imagine it in her head. Was she a toddler? 8? 13? Why was she trying to kill him? Maybe it was a possession? That doesn’t seem right. These guys can handle a possession, easily. Plus, they have an angel on their side. “I-I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what else to say.
“I only knew her for a day. I slept with her completely non-pregnant mom. Three days later, she looked like she was 15 years old. Trying to kill me to be accepted into her tribe.”
The more he talked, the more confused Y/N felt, until he told her the full story.
There was a long silence before she finally spoke again.
“Shots!” She blurted out and left her third beer at the table. This conversation was making her uncomfortable. She wasn’t expecting someone like Dean to drop a bomb like that. She slid out of her side in the booth, as quickly as possible.
The band on stage started playing a cover of Led Zeppelin’s Dancing Days and an older gentleman at the bar grabbed Y/N’s hand. At first, Dean thought he was going to have to step in, but She went with him. He was leading her out to the floor in front the stage and started dancing. At first, she laughed, but the man insisted by continuing his dancing. She finally relented and began dancing with him.
There was a crooked smile on Dean’s face. He hadn’t seen her like this before. It was cute. He took a moment watching before he started to feel a pang of envy. He wanted to dance with her. Closer than this man was, though.
However, when Y/N turned to look at him, there was something about her that reminded him of Lisa. There was a different pang in his chest, and his smile was gone. What am I doing here with Y/N? She’s at least 10 years younger. Maybe 12.
When the song was over, She and Dean were laughing again. Maybe the liquor was helping him forget Lisa again. His phone buzzed and he checked it. He made a slight grin upon seeing the message.
“Your brother wondering what we’re up to?”
“No.”
“Castiel?”
It buzzed again. Same reaction. “Definitely not”, he said.
“Ah, you’re talking to a woman.”
“It’s a dating app. Sometimes I get random messages.” Another buzz. “This one’s a picture.”
“Ooh! Let me see.”
“No. When someone shares a picture, you keep it safe and secret. Hidden to the rest of the world. It’s the respectful thing to do.”
“Ask her if I can see it.”
“Why would I do that?” Dean asked, perplexed and also intrigued by the idea.
“You interrupted fun drinking and sharing time by bringing another woman. Even if it is via smartphone. I’d like to know who else it sitting at this table and what they have goin’ on. — Be sure to let her know I’m also into women.”
"Lookin' for a threesome?”
"Why not?”
After giving her a devilish smile, he sends an ask the other woman he's messaging. Dean then leaned in close to Y/N, placed his hand on her thigh, making sure his lips were close to her ear so she could hear him. "Are you trying hard to be naughty or are you just trouble?”
"I'm trouble all the time. Naughty on the side, and nasty late at night." She caught her dumb line and chalked it up to the alcohol. They both giggled. "I'm sorry. I've never been good with my words, especially when I'm tryin' to flirt.”
"It's okay. Maybe I can teach you." Dean caught her lips with his and the kiss quickly became heated, with his hand traveling up her leg and to her breast. Her hand was grazing his crotch, feeling him getting hard. Even right here in front of everyone, he might screw her. He couldn't understand this desire to be inside of her so badly. When his phone buzzed in a reply, he handed Y/N his phone.
She looked at him, impressed. “Wow. Not bad.”
“Yeah, yeah. I don’t get it, though.”
“What?”
“The lack of hair. One, I thought that was over by 2010. Two, I just don’t feel that comfortable with it.”
Y/N shrugged, “So don‘t fuck her.”
“Easier said than done.”
She scoffed, “Why does a woman’s personal choice about her body hair bother you at all?”
“Makes me feel like a sex offender.”
“Sounds like your personal problem.”
“Well, also her age.”
“What’s wrong with her age?” Y/N inquired.
“Too young.”
“Too young?”
“Too young. I need to find someone my own age and stop runnin’ around, you know?” Dean looked off into the distance.
“Settle down? You?”
“Yeah.”
Y/N laughed at him and replied with a smile, “Sure.”
*** EPISODE 1 ***
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
Part One - Episode Two
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
PLAYLIST Ep 2 Ch 1-4
EXTRAS:
AO3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*** Strong Tongue and Slender Fingers *** (Here and AO3)
*** Alt Strong Tongue and Slender Fingers Smut Scenes *** (Here and AO3)
KLEE (Original Version) (Currently only on AO3)
Alt KLEE Smut (Currently only on AO3)
#fanfiction#spn fanfiction#spn fanfic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural#dean winchester#Sam Winchester#castiel#dean x reader#dean winchester x reader#strong tongue and slender fingers#playlist
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cruel summer fic: director’s cut
fever dream high in the quiet of the night
so...............for a fic i wrote in such a short amount of time, and also for a fic written by me, there’s actually a surprising amount of Stuff To Analyze in here. themes. motifs, if you will. anyway. i am really proud of them, and ainslee and helen and sam enabled me, so i’m gonna talk about some of them here!
fair warning, this gets a little long. hence the cut. also i know not everyone cares. and that is super fucking valid. anyway. let’s get into it. spoilers for the fic under the cut, obviously.
1. colors
so this fic has a lot of colors, like a lot more than i normally include (since i tend to write dialogue-heavy stuff). thematically the main important colors are blue and red. the ~blue~ is more or less for this like...physical relationship, but also blue of course connotes sadness and any kind of negative feeling in general (and re: cruel summer the song, "it's blue, the feeling i got"); the ~red~ is there in more romantic moments. the VERY first line of the fic says "the sky is bleeding navy blue" talking from the get-go about jack's uncertainty and how nervous he is and how unfamiliar the terrain is for him. but later on, in the scene when alex randomly picks jack up to go on a late-night adventure, we get this line:
“You certainly surprised me showing up at my house,” he says. “Any reason you thought I would be the best person to join you on your adventure?”
Alex casts a glance at him. The red stop sign before them is a jarring change from all the blacks and blues and washed-out yellows around them.
so there's this flash of red in the midst of the darkness and all this ~blue~ around them, and this is almost a romantic moment, because up until this they've pretty much only been hooking up and they're not even really friends. but now alex has specifically come to take jack on an Adventure. also i think it's interesting that it's a stop sign! possibly conflicting signals!
but then in the nightclub scene there's these lights ("flashes of blue and red keep washing over Alex’s face, making him difficult to look at for too long") and this is the scene where jack tells alex how he feels and then alex says that they wouldn't work. and it's not that alex doesn't feel the same, but alex is rejecting him anyway, so it's somehow a moment that is both romantic and tragic, hence both colors over alex's face at once. and then here:
Blue light washes over Alex. He gives Jack a hard look. “You’d tell your family?”
it's like..........that's the turning point. alex says this and it flips the argument in his favor and proves his point that they couldn't work, and that's a really fucking sad moment for the two of them. but then outside the nightclub, jack keeps talking about alex's red converse. like:
Jack staggers, and Alex grabs ahold of him, wrapping one of Jack’s arms around his shoulders.
“Easy,” he says. “I got you. Just focus on one spot until you get your balance.”
[...] Jack stares lasers into Alex’s red Converse.
because first of all the gesture itself of alex holding jack to help him get his balance is romantic and that even THOUGH alex rejected him there is still something romantic there. and it's here again later:
The scenery races by, Baltimore in all its trashy glory, but Jack fixes his gaze on Alex’s shoe until all he sees is red.
until all he sees is red.......it's all love baby. just call him FLETCHER cos it's all love
(there's also something to be said about the hickeys that are supposedly "reddish-purple"...purple as the middle ground between red and blue...something romantic but kind of painful...masquerading as a thing that exists without feeling...and another thing to be said about when jack falls from the tree and his palms are bleeding red and alex patches him up...but we'd be here all day)
2. shadows/darkness
i honestly don't know how much of this was intentional and how much just worked out, but there’s this idea of a dark cloud of rumors that surrounds alex? there's a lot of talk about rumors and reputation in here. like one of the first lines is:
From what Jack has heard, Alex is bad news. All he has to go on are rumors, but rumors start from somewhere, and rumors surround Alex like a storm cloud.
he's surrounded in this dark cloud of rumors! that's mentioned again in the scene at the high school:
After a while, a cloud of rumors resolves into a reputation, and Alex’s is impossible to ignore.
and this feels inherently dark, and this fic is inherently dark (not thematically just literally dark because it almost entirely takes place at night) but alex specifically seems to be shrouded in shadows and darkness, a LOT. his very first appearance in the fic is introduced like this:
There’s a shadow outside Jack’s window.
Something too irregular to be a heartbeat rams against Jack’s chest. He approaches the window. In the dark, dressed in black from head-to-toe, Alex looks like a robber, or maybe a ninja, or maybe a nightmare.
and almost immediately after that:
Alex fits so incongruously into it, absorbing all the light from Jack’s lamp like a six-foot black hole.
importantly, this is the very first scene of the fic, so this alex is the closest to Reputation-Alex as he gets in the fic, because hereafter jack starts learning more and more about him and the threads of this reputation start to fray and fall away. but in this very beginning, jack sees alex as someone surrounded by these rumors, and he keeps noticing shadows and darkness around alex, and alex (dressed in all black) kind of tries to be seen that way, too.
and then when they're in the high school, this Dark High School At Nighttime, the darkness over alex's face returns. they've all but broken into their high school and that's a very Reputation-Alex thing to do! jack sees this reputation around him, not necessarily as a bad thing but just as something that is very present. this exchange:
“No, it’s cool. I get it. Lotta rumors about me.” Alex nods. Jack can’t read his tone, can’t tell if he likes that his reputation precedes him or not.
“What’s your favorite?” he asks. “Is that a weird question?”
Alex looks at Jack, face shrouded in shadows. “Who cares?”
they're talking about alex's rep and his face is shrouded in shadows. jack is very aware of these shadows. he's not afraid of them or anything. but he knows they're there. he keeps mentioning them. he's never not aware.
and theeeen when there's light on his face...and jack sees him........clearing away this Shadow of a Reputation..........there's subsequently this theme of gold/light on or around alex, in certain moments when jack Sees alex. in the first scene:
Jack breaks away and the lamp light casts a glow over Alex’s face. It occurs to Jack for the first time that Alex is beautiful.
and also from that scene:
“Shh,” he says, grabbing Jack’s face in one hand. His eyes look like shimmering gold. “Your parents will hear.”
and in the high school (this one has Layers) when alex buys jack something from the vending machine, and they kind of...........become friends:
Now he and Alex stand before one, bluish-white light awash over Alex like a fluorescent halo.
there's this light around him and jack can see him, and especially on the heels of that conversation where they both talk about how the other person is good for them, this is a good moment of jack Seeing alex as a person and a friend and not seeing his Reputation
3. the halo (aka the devil/angel dichotomy)
this part is very important to me, so here we go. in the final scene, when alex comes out of his house to talk to jack, his appearance is characterized like this:
By the time Alex appears, a shadow backlit by streetlamps, incandescent halo in full effect, Jack is very close to a nervous breakdown.
now. first of all. his halo at the vending machine had been fluorescent, and his halo now is incandescent. aside from the obvious ~angel/devil~ dichotomy (this part happens only moments later: “I love you too,” Alex says in a rush, and then a devilish grin splits his face in two as he takes Jack’s hand in his own) (i.e. "he looks up, grinning like a devil"), the color of the halo has changed. it started as this clean fluorescent bluish white, like their relationship was before; incandescent light is warmer and it feels a lot closer to red. so the light behind alex's halo has changed, because the nature of their relationship has changed. and that's important.
but the other important thing is that he has a halo at all. because alex is the "devil" in this fic and jack is the "angel," so to speak, of course. but in these two moments, jack sees him as an angel, and he sees this halo. and then JUST after that incandescent halo line, there's this line:
As he comes closer, the streetlight glow fades until only darkness surrounds them both.
importantly: it surrounds them BOTH. the darkness isn't just alex's now. maybe that's because jack has changed and he's done a very non-jack thing, a very alex thing, but whatever the reason, the Rep isn't just alex's now, and jack is aware (not negatively or anything, just Conscious) that it's now around them both. in short, the devil isn't just alex now, but jack as well, at least a little. and then there's also this, and this is the last way jack describes alex:
Alex’s smile gleams brilliantly, impossibly white.
so......maybe.......he's a little bit an angel. a little.
4. height
this is small, but in the beginning there's this:
With a start, Jack realizes he’s actually taller than Alex. Somehow he’d never noticed. Alex takes up space. Jack never has.
this is a scene in which jack feels like alex has the power. because alex has the experience and the Reputation and this is the kind of thing he Does, and it's not something jack has Ever Done. but THEN, in the high school, there's THIS:
An echoing silence fills the space between them. Jack pushes himself off the wall. The two inches he has on Alex suddenly feel very real.
alex is insecure in this scene. he's saying jack is a good kid and that jack is good for him because alex is a bad kid and a bad influence, and suddenly jack has the "power" (so to speak) and alex is the weaker one. because alex is feeling insecure. so suddenly jack realizes not only that he and alex might not be as different as he thinks, but also that alex isn't this untouchable Reputation, that he's also just a kid who resents himself sometimes. and that's very important for their relationship! for jack to realize that alex is not on this pedestal, that he is also just a kid.
5. stuff i did not do on purpose
these are things that either i noticed or that got pointed out to me after i posted the fic but i will gladly take credit for them if you feel like giving it lmfao
(1) there are a lot of taylor references. some of these were intentional (yes it does say cruel twice, that was on purpose lmao), and the mention of august ("August starts melting away, slipping through Jack’s fingers") was kinda a callback, but it fully slipped my mind that all the reputation talk could have read like a reference. "For something so heated, it certainly feels delicate” was not an intentional reference to delicate. but kinda cool that it worked out that way !!!
(2) in the high school scene, jack tells alex that he's the worst thing he's ever done. and then at the end he tells alex, “Alex, I honestly think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” talk about a fucking 180!!!!!
(3) in the very first scene there's this:
and when Jack says he’s out on a limb he means it. To fall from here would mean almost certain death, but fuck, it might just be worth it.
and then later, jack literally falls from the tree. and on top of that, alex is the reason he falls (the texts), but ALSO, alex is the person who's there to patch jack up. it's not "certain death," BECAUSE alex is there. jack hadn't been wrong; alex had been the cause of his fall, but he'd also been the reason why the fall hadn't been "fatal." (using hyperbolic words to make this point)
(4) the first and final scenes parallel each other. in the first scene jack's room is in complete darkness except for the one light at his bedside. in the last scene, too, they're surrounded by darkness. the streetlamps illuminate alex briefly but then the light fades and it's just the two of them in the dark again.
on top of that, here's this from the scene in the car towards the beginning:
“What are you doing here?” [Jack] whispers, leaning through the window. “Turn off your headlights, someone might see.”
and from the last scene:
“What the fuck are you doing?” Alex hisses, and he sounds nervous, for what Jack thinks might be the first time since they’ve known each other. “My dad is still awake, you know.”
so the cautious (jack) has become the reckless, and the reckless (alex) becomes the cautious!!!! that's shown in a LOT of ways in this last scene, but that one is particularly salient.
~
also, this doesn’t really go anywhere but it is one of my favorite lines of figurative language in the whole thing:
It’s a dumb joke in a lot of ways and Jack gets the sense that had he made it to anyone else it would have landed like an airplane on fire, but Alex actually chuckles.
airplane on fire!!! it’s just so much fun. and so evocative. and i like it.
~
so anyway, that’s my director’s cut analysis of cruel summer fic. if you read this, or even if you just read the fic, or even if you read this WITHOUT reading the fic (although ???? i think it will make more sense if you read the fic), thank you for indulging me!!! i am extremely happy with the way this fic came out. point being. thank you for joining me. love ya <3
#god i wanna make a playlist for this fic so BAD#the thing is i HAVE a playlist where the plot is very close to the plot of this fic but that's just coincidence#so i might just fuck around and do it#anyway thanks everyone for humoring me#xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo ill kill and die for you all xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo#stuff#director's cut#cruel summer fic#i've never done a director's cut but that's because there has never been so much stuff to Talk About before so like#also yessss i know i'm not a Director and this is Fanfiction#but i like the phrase director's cut i think it fits i'm keeping it you can pry it outta my COLD DEAD HANDS#complete full disclosure this was originally typed up with the intent of only sending it to helen and ainslee and possibly sam#and it was written on discord#sorry if it doesnt make a lotta sense#theres some other stuff but it's a lot more obvious#like the scene in jack's bed where jack resists the urge to brush alex's hair away and when he DOES do it it's with the excuse of sex#versus in the nightclub when he doesn't disguise the action at all#or the 'take your parents' car' 'no' >>> he takes his parents car thing#anyway there are just THINGS in here#STUFF!!!!
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The Loud House Reviews: Ghosted!
Halloween Havoc returns! Lori is haunted by a ghost and brings in LIncoln and Clyde ot fix things.. only to find out he’s actually the beloved school mascot and must enlist Lucy and her crew of goths to help her. The bar from the overlook hotel, 1900′s disco, and Boris, the best loud house character i’d never heard of all insue. All hail boris, and prepare for full review with spoilers. under the cut.
We’re back! I’m sorry this is a week late. This is both due to having a LOT going on.. as well as my own fault for pushign this review back to do a review of the first episode of Starkid’s “Nightmare Time”.. only to have to push BOTH back after I was unable to finish this weeks’ Ducktales on Monday because I ended up having to get off it so my mom, who works from home, can use it, and because AT&T is an utter nightmare we’re thankfully leaving, so if nothing else that will hopefully never be an issue again.
TLDR: I kept putting this one off, didn’t realize this week’s episode was in fact on this week, and now I have to get 5 reviews done in the span of three days: I have this episode, this week’s loud house, the amphibia halloween special, and reviews of Ducktales “The Duck Knight Returns” and the first darkwing duck episode “Darkly Dawns the Duck”.
I kid, this blog will end as I too hope to end.. taking rusty and Zach with me. But i got myself into this mess and i’m getting myself out of it. I will get these done even if it kills me.. my ghost can then take care of the two fictional children. ON with the review!
We open at Fairway University.
I had to. Lori is practicing for the big tournament coming up.. which normally would have me super excited as tournaments are my shit... but we’re not talking two people beating the shit out of each other, wether it be for the sport of it, because their master told them to, because one of htem is a demon who will end the world, or because their loved ones will be murdered if they don’t beat people up as a team for demons, nor people playing card games for their grandpa’s soul, or a grudge caused by an abusive childhood that leads to a battle over gods inside trading cards, or because the school decided why not, or because you need to both keep your godlike dragon that’s also in a card and your friends safe, or.. you get the idea. I love Anime tournaments in what anime I have watched. Me watching or reading of those is like coke to me... a golf tournament however?
Yeah i’m not big into non-wrestling sports in general, let alone one where hte main action is a ball went really far. I mean it IS impressive a golfer can do that and accuratley no less, that’s some Hawkeye level stuff, it’s just not for me. I do HIGHLY enjoy mini golf, and mini golf episodes as both simpsons and gravity falls episodes on that are a good time. I mean any episode that gets flanders to say this is worth at least one watch.
And thanks to fond memories of my grandpa using them to get around his carnival, yes my grandpa owned a carnival and yes it was great and yes he was a great man and I miss him every day, and carting me around in them. If it were street legal i’d have one. And finally I LOVE happy gilmore. While Adam Sandler took a turn, and hopefully Hubie Halloween is a sign that long national nightmare is over, that film still holds up and is still REALLY damn funny. And by this point your probably wondering what the hell my point is.
Well the hell my point is is that in light of me liking golf related things for weird reason despite praying for death but death won’t come at the thought of watching actual golf, I love fairway university. I love the fact that a golf based college is credible, I love the fact it goes so far in it’s theme that the text books are all golf related, the dorms are all weirdly golf themed, and students apparently can get an arnold palmer at any time of night. I also assume the dorms have on demand streaming for happy gilmore and caddyshack, and a genisis with a copy of lee carvillo’s putting challenge.
Back on the actual episode at long last, Lori is putting in some driving practice and facetiming bobby. The reason the tournament is so important is that she needs to beat the evil elf Malketh at golf or else Suryr will end all life... I may of been reading walt simsons’s thor lately but admit it you would watch that. No it’s more mundane than a fire giant trying to commit universal genocide: Being the only freshman on the team, as in that good, if she dosen’t do well, she might loose her scholarship. Granted I DOUBT they’d take it away after one game, but it’s understandable why she fears loosing it: She can’t afford college any other way. Her parents finances are spread among 11 kids who all live comofrtably and while every loud would gladly give things up so she could go to college still.. Lori wouldn’t accept it. She’d be grateful.. but she wouldn’t have her family be miserable for her sake, even if it’s her dream. This is her one shot for the career she wants and loosing this would destroy her. Even if she’d still have Bobby.
But Bobby is pulled away because his customers are annoyed.. and by customers I mean just Vito.. the rest seem fine despite the line, who complalins his spumoni is melting... because apparently he can’t just have bobby get him a fresh one as Bobby would be happy to do because he’s made of pure joy and it was nice seeing him. Though I do hope to see him in college himself next season. It is WEIRD having the casagrandes season 1 paired with a season of the loud house taking place months later.. and having the halloween episode for season 2 show up months ahead of season 2 itself.
But soon Lori has bigger problems than Bobby having to go or crushing loss... after consulting the school gopher, because the dean apparently really loves caddyshack as ANY dean of a golfiing school should. I forgot to mention it above but I freaking love that movie too. Good stuff. Back on point, Lori soon gets stalked by a g-g-g-host! And nope this ain’t no party, this ain’t no disco, this ain’t no fooling around.. nor is it a scooby doo esque scheme. This is an actual ghost. Represented by a ball of light but .. yup they went there.
And look I get the show breaks from reality a lot: Luann acts like the silver age joker once a year and gets away with it, Lisa gets up to dexter’s lab esque shenanigans on an episodic basis, and Girl Jordan isn’t part of the group despite clearly sharing their intrests and being intrested in both lincoln and stella. There are stretches in reality.. but mostly for humor or because it’d make a good plot. Most of the plots are grounded in reality: From Luna’s entire romance arc, with her insecurities and her and sam’s worries about each other, to Luaan’s nervousness about her first kiss, to Lincoln and friends having to learn that sometimes a girl dosen’t want to date you just because their nice to you, to Lynn learning not to be a dick and hten forgetting it overnight because this show hates me, the show grounds wacky shenanigans in relatable slice of life stuff. It’s what makes it and it’s sister show work so well. Grounding the exagerated comedy with likeable relatable characters. IT’s what works.
Why I bring this up is this and family bonding show a possible trend of the show getting into more bizzare stuff. A ghost here, a secret agent there.. it means the loud world can get as insane as it wants and the reason I bring it up is simple: Is that a GOOD thing. And my opinon, it CAN be if used right. With Family Bonding the fact there are Secret Agents is just.. casually mentioned. Like yup james bond esque spies exist and have weather dominators and an 11 year old just stopped them. It’s just.. treated like a normal thing when it’s not. Here.. a ghost showing up.. is treated like someone suddenly finding out ghosts are fucking real. Lori slowly comes unraveled a bit as the first few minutes go: She deals with seeing a ghost glow on the range, having the ghost drop books on her in the library, and having it serve her an arnold palmer.. in what genuinely looks like the bar from the overlook hotel from the shining.
I get it’s a deliberate shout out, especially since it’s bartender is a ghost. But it just raises so many questions: Was it a concidence or did whoever put this bar in really love the shining? Did he want teenagers to murder their wives and children? Did he? Is this building haunted and not just by the genearl ghost that haunts everything? Did they take this from the overlook since it didn’t burn down in the movie? Does this mean shining and loud house are the same universe and by the same token so is community and the casagrandes? WHy is a tea with lemonade called an arnold palmer?
But yeah after breaking down in her room Lori can’t take being stalked by a ghost and does what 80% of people in a paranomal activity film take too long to do and calls a ghost hunter. Specifically clyde! And to my shock this is apparently the first time the two have interacted since season 2! And it shows.. their on perfectly fine terms, to the point she has his number and they can talk like humans. I like it.. it’s subtle. Again wouldv’e appricated the episode where he got over here being more finte, but still, this is better than him either passing out in his own master roshi esque blood or trying to get her to leave bobby because bobby is a saint. The worst he’s done is break up with someone because her brother made his sister cry, when none of that makes any sense but he’s dumn and noble enough i’ll allow it, and telling sergio never to come back, which his show framed as a bad thing but really I would two after two minutes with him.
She called Clyde because he’s the brains behind the outfit... but Clyde has her on speaker. Wah wah wah. Their watching ARRRGH! The ghost adventuers style show that showed up in an episode I never saw but read about. Wah wah wah indeed, but it was apparenlty made up. Why their still into it I dunno, but apparently argh ghost blasters ARE ACTUAL LASER GUNS. This show has gone enitrely off the rails and i’m fine with that. As long as it’s funny. But seriously who gives out actual proton packs I ask you your just asking for some kid to blast himself in the face. But yeah Clincoln McCloud is on the case. And while i’m still annoyed they didn’t bring at least two more friends to play ghostbusters, presumibly stella because she’s the compitent one and Zach because he could NOT belivie in something for a change and tha’td be funny. I know i’m beating a dead horse but it dosen’t HAVE to be all or nothing with their friend groups. You do know that right writers?
I mean I get only using them here as opposed to family bonding, but still, if you can use LIam outside of his episodes you can use the rest of them.. and I don’t even like Zach but he’d be in his element here. It’s not complicated but it is frustrating.
Anyways the boys and Lynn Sr arrive with Lynn Sr making a scene.. which embarasses Lori but i’m on his side here. His oldest went to college. She left the nest. It’s a lot. Plus she apparently hasn’t visted home yet so he misses his baby. Just accept it. She also asked the boys to be subtle about their ghost hunting which does not work at all. Lori you knew who you were asking for this. It’s like asking Sterling Archer NOT to be sarcastic, loud and slightly hammered. It’s part of the process.
Natrually hyjinks insue as our heroes chase the ghost with the most... on this campus.. and end up shaming him into leaving. Yes really. Clyde even says that’s what usually works on him. Oh Clyde.. if that were true you would’ve stopped trying to break up two people clearly in love with each other for your own benift, you twit.
So problem solved right, ghost busted, no more stalking and no lori turning into a monster and ushering in 80 sequels with no real resolution right?
Yeah I mean this is a half hour special. Everyone at Fairway starts playing off, and it turns out because they realized the ghost was missing. Yes.. everyone knew the ghost was real. Thankfully given this is a halloween episode fairway isn’t some kind of rosemary’s baby, midsommar, herditary, paranomal activity , god a lot of movies use this death cult scenario. That we’re aware of Lori may just not be the target. The team captain takes Lori aside to explain things: They normally don’t tell freshman this until after their first game because the plot says so, but Fairway has a ghost. And again what makes this work is the guy does realize people might not belivie this and while normal for the students of fairway, it’s not normal for everyone and they might not belivie in it.
But no turns out the ghost is beloved 1900′s era Caddy, Shanks Bogey, who in the moment that cemented him as a legend singelhandidly helped Fairway to a big comeback in their first tournament ever, and was given a permanent positoin after graduation. Because they train caddy’s here too which makes sense. And now his ghost lives there too and still helps to this day. OR did anyway. Now why he coudln’t of told her this or why they don’t check to make sure one of the students dosen’t bring ghost hunters around or an exorcist or ash williams?
This episode already runs on nonsense i’m just going with it. Point is LOri’s hair’s falling out, more apparenlty, from the stress as she retreats into her hoodie.. Clyde gave her one to protect her because ARRRRGH! is really freaking shameless apparently. While LIncoln dosen’t know how to put a ghost back luckily Lucy has the mortuariy club over and LIncoln sends them over. Also Lori dosen’t want dad driving them, but Lincoln was on speaker which.. yeah Clyde I might get, the only person he’d probably want privacy with is his girlfriend, he and Lincoln have the exact same running crew but lincoln has 10 other people int he house who may eevesdrop.
But hell yeah, it’s my first Lucy episode on the blog and my first with her club period. For Lucy she IS one of the sisters I like I just haven’t checked out her episodes since season 2,a nd that’s my fault and something I intend to correct. She’s adorably, hilarious in her creepiness, and endearing in how she feels ignored at itmes.. because she is. They also ALL can apparently do her suddenly sneak up on people batman schtick as they all pop up on lincoln when he mentions a ghost. But yeah I love she has her own adams family esque group of goths, and that one of them is a Haiku from an earlier episode. While he and clyde hitting it off went nowhere it IS nice for the show to actually bring back an earlier character they entirely forgot about. It’s very rare for them.
But yeah I already like these guys, arriving in coffisn and accidently sending my new faviorite borris flying.. a boy who talks like dracula, looks like an orlock and talks in the third person, though he ends up completing a cheer pyramid, because as an intentional joke or not, fairway , a school for a sport built on quite conversation... has a cheers squad. But hey we get boris talking about his hollow bones and cheering out of it so we’re good.
But now the goth gang can get down to business. They try the obvious first a séance which.. yeah if bill and ted and beetlejuice have taught me anything, Seance’s can only end in friendly ghost murder. Granted unlike Otho I think Lucy knows what she’s doing, I just don’t want Shanks to die. This dosen’t quite work as while there is some bubbles it’s just Froggy 2 who apparently goes here when he’s not with adelaide. Good for him, getting some higher book learning. That’s rare for frogs. Though the faces on the Club are priceless as they are adorable.
Plan B is to set out Shank’s faviorite food, Ferminted Bean Meal.. which yes is both to set up a fart joke and may or may not exist. He also liked pigs in a blanket, which is a good gag. Lori asks why theyd idn’t go with that I say they simply did because these are professional Goths, and they will always go for the weirdest option possible. It’s who you signed on for lori. You could’ve just called the fentons at the start of this but no, no crossover for us. And yes it’d be butch heartman free but as far as I’m concerned he can go fuck himself for, most among a LARGE pile of him being a jackass, promoting faith healing seminars that among serious illnesses.. include autisim, aka equating what I have to things like alhimers and cancer. No joke there just screw him, don’t screw danny phantom it’s great, moving on.
They intend for shanks to eat it but Lori’s teamates do instead as does the one club member who has weird hair that really unernves me. I get it’s supposed to be spider like but still, the rest of the club is really well designed, including him minus the hair. Why this why. They all get stomach poisoning and blame Lori for it despite, you know, eating strange food left in the middle of campus which is never a good idea, as it’s either someone’s elses or possibly spiked. What did you think was going to happen?
Lucy’s last ditch effort is partying like it’s 1900. We do get the club and lori in top hats and canes with presumibly pocket’s full of miracles. So that’s neat. But it fails thanks to the cheerleaders coming in, boris very much included. Lori is desparing,.. until it turns out the disco ball which broke offers a mirror to the other side.. and thus where shanks is.. at the graveyard just off campus. Haiku finds this school creepy and wants to go there. Me too little sister, me too.
Lori opts to go alone.. while this shit terrifies her, understandably, it was her mess and she needs to clean it up.. even though him not explaning himself to her or anyone else did this I don’t know if he can talk so fair enough. He can however caddy obviously as Lori gives him a heartfelt apology, and then plays a round, with him helping.. though apparently returning her ball also opens a doorway to hell. Go figure. Great gag though especially lori’s casual “that was disturbing”. He dosen’t give a sign he’s coming back though.
Then we cut to the game.. with no real sign lori told anyone anything.. was.. was a chunk cut out of this episode or did they just run out of time? I dunno it’s jarring but the game is down to her, and Lori ends up in a sandtrap with the sun in her eyes. But luckily shanks returns! He llfts an umbrella for her. Again I think it’s less that he’s inconsiderate and more that he’s mute.. or maybe he’s just a jackass I dunno. We don’t know enough about him. Point is Lori wins, her scholarship is secure and her family is cheering her on.. well okay her family in terms of lincoln, clyde, because he counts dammit, and her parents the rest of the girls minus lucy are absent because they needed room for her club. Whose in the sun somehow. Lori wins, Boris does an exorcist head spin, and Lucy feels he’s lost to them. I mean.. he has to go home.. unless he dosen’t have one... which is probable. Man now I want a fairway spinoff even more.. I mean just give lori and bobby an off campus place, have leni and her two friends move in, maybe throw in carol and have boris living in a hole in the backyard and we’re good. Please nick, greenlight this. I will write it for you just give me the go ahead.
Final Thoughts:
This one was okay. As I said the reality breaks are fine if their used for good reaosn, but I felt the episode put Lori though a bit much. She hasn’t been unsympathetic in so long, and she has a genuine heartwrenching reason to want to do well and is terrified of shanks. It’s not her fault no one told her. I mean that should be in the brochure “We have a ghost but he’s a casper ghost and not a gozer ghost so your good”. I mean the fact Jack Fenton HASN’T come blaring down the campus is only because he already did that and is banned from campus. that and he drove through the comisary.. like through both walls. The Fenton Van is thick.
Point is lori goes through a lot of pain and humilation for no reason. It also feels like a two parter put into one half hour: The first half has a problem that’s seemingly solved only to have a cliffhanger with Lucy coming in as the solution. That being said I aboslutely love the mortuariy club. Why they can’t repalce spider head with rocky I don’t know, but otherwise I love em. Especailly boris who i’m fine with him staying at fairway as long as I get that spinoff> The Clyde and LIncoln antics are just “ha ha their mech dosen’t work”.. when they still have rayguns as part of the merch, though I do appricate that them running out of power is set up: Their guns discharge as a running gag so it’s no suprise their out by the time our heroes need them. And Clyde’s line about shame and guilt “Just like me!” was gold. This dosen’t really have the missed opprtunity smell of family bonding or strife of the party, it did fine enough and the scene of lori and shanks playing golf was really sweet.
It really is just okay: Not AMAZING, but not terrible. I’ve seen much worse already this season, but the creative halloweeny premise, fun with the goth gang, and general weirdness of fairway make it a hole in two. Not a slam dunk but still fun. Just because an episode is mostly okay dosen’t make it bad.
If you liked this review follow for more, as I have weekly coverage of ducktales and loud house and ocasionally the casagrandes and later today should have, space and time permitting, reviews of the new loud house, the new amphibia, and later this weekend some darkwing duck. Until then stay safe, stay spooky and happy halloween. Play us out white stripes!
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#halloween#the loud house#ghosted#lori loud#lincoln loud#clyde mcbryde#lucy loud#haiku#boris#dante#morpheous#perspherone#lynn loud sr#rita loud#fairway university#shanks bogey#halloween havoc
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Drawn to You
Summary: When Danny goes to a psychic to get his soulmate drawn, he's expectantly pretty confused about why she's drawn him with a colour palette change.
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Danny had been having a pretty good day with his friends, using their free Saturday to go to the arcade. In an attempt to not burn through all their allowance before they could save up for the upcoming Doomed game, Danny and Tucker painfully had to request Sam to drag them away from the venue once they hit their budget. Despite the grumbling he’d done when Sam followed through with it, Danny still felt it was a good day overall. That was, until they crossed paths with the A-Listers from school.
He was hoping that if they kept their heads down, that the trio could pass the popular kids without being noticed. When Paulina gasped at something she saw in a shop window and got them all to look with her, he felt like it might just work.
“Oh look, a psychic who draws your soulmate!” She exclaimed excitedly, jumping up and down and clapping. Being distracted by the movement was enough for Dash to catch sight of him in the shop window reflection. The tall boy wore a malicious smirk before chortling.
“Fenturd doesn’t have to pay her to know he’ll die alone.” The bully teased loudly, turning and jabbing Danny in the collarbone. To Danny’s surprise, the comment hurt a lot more than the harsh jab that would probably bruise later. He was a loser after all, so how likely was it that he’d die alone? If he did have a soulmate, they’d probably rather be caught dead than be his soulmate and ask for a refund. Who in the world would ever want to be his soulmate?
“Shut up Dash! Danny’s far more likely to have a soulmate than someone as awful as you!” Sam growled defensively, pushing herself between Dash and Danny. Dash glowered at her furiously, puffing up his chest as he towered over her.
“You think because you’re a girl I won’t wail on you, Manson?” He sneered in an imposing tone that frightened Danny but seemed to have no effect on Sam.
“No, I think you won’t wail on me because if I sue you for it I can afford far better lawyers.” She quipped back, folding her arms and attempting to be as tall as possible. Dash went red and was shaking with fury. Danny and Tucker swapped a worried look between themselves. This was usually the best time to start running, but it didn’t seem like Sam was going to back down.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dash yelled, grabbing Sam by the front of her shirt. Kwan winced, before grabbing Dash’s hands and forcing them away from Sam.
“It means shut up before you do something insanely stupid. Come on, let’s go to the arcade.” Kwan warned, trying to coax his friend away from the trio. With an irritated huff, Dash eventually stopped resisting and stomped off with the rest of the A-Listers.
“Sam, are you okay? That was insane!” Tucker checked, fussing over his friend. Sam swatted him away dismissively, rolling her eyes.
“It was nothing, don’t worry. It’s not like I could just stand there and let Dash talk about Danny like that.” With that statement, both Sam and Tucker shifted their glances to Danny. Feeling uncomfortable with their sympathetic looks, his eyes darted away and locked onto the first thing he saw. The sign that Paulina had pointed out.
Psychic Drawing of Soulmate: $10 Limited Time Only
He was embarrassed to admit the idea tempted him. Had his parents’ lunatic ravings about ghosts finally gotten to him? He knew psychics weren’t real, so why did he want to give this con artist any of his money? Was just the concept of seeing the face of someone who could love him enough to turn him into a gullible fool?
“Danny? Are you okay, bud?” Tucker asked with a concerned tone. Danny snapped out of his thoughts and looked back to his friends, both of whom looked quite worried.
“You’re not thinking about going in there, are you? Come on, Danny! We’re thirteen, we’re too young to be thinking about love and soulmates!” Sam argued, reaching for Danny’s wrist to tug him away from the shop. Reflexively, he side-stepped towards the door to the shop and out of her reach.
“I…I’ll catch up with you later online, okay?” He farewelled, before quickly pulling open the door and escaping into the psychic’s store.
The interior every bit as stereotypical as he expected. Between the dark brown walls, the dim, warm light bulbs in the tiny chandelier, the candles scattered around the room and the velvet curtains drawn over the window, he felt like he had stepped from late afternoon into midnight. This area seemed to be a waiting room, he observed from the reception desk and the line of chairs against the wall.
“Hello, child. Curious about the unknown, or just trying to get away from bullies? I sense fear and hurt in your aura.” Danny whipped around to see a woman standing in a doorway leading to another room. She had curly, auburn hair swept out of her face by a colourful scarf that was tied off behind her neck and draped over her shoulder. A wheat coloured loose-knit shawl wrapped around her arms over the floor length burgundy dress she wore. She was a few bangles away from being exactly what Danny expected a psychic to look like.
“Uh…I saw the sign in the window, so I was wondering if…” He started, finding himself far too embarrassed to continue the sentence. A soft expression of surprise swept the woman’s face.
“You want me to draw your soulmate? But you’re so young!” She exclaimed. Danny nervously wrung the bottom of his shirt in his hands, eyes low and avoiding contact with her.
“I don’t need to meet them or anything. I just… want to know if I have one at all.” He admitted, tears threatening to escape. After an uncomfortable amount of silence, Danny dared to look up at the woman to find her looking at him with an expression of indecision. Noticing him looking at her, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“Okay, I will draw your soulmate for you. As long as you keep in mind that it might take a long time for you to meet them, and it might not be easy to win them over if – when you do. This person is a complement to your soul, but we can’t account for free will.” She disclaimed cautiously. Danny couldn’t quite tell if it was authentic, or just vague excuses to explain why her predictions haven’t turned out to be true to avoid being sued. At this point he was far too curious and desperate, so when she asked him for his name and date of birth before asking him to wait while she prepared the drawing room, he obliged.
By the time she returned, his leg was in full nervous bounce mode and he was all too keen to follow her into the drawing room. This space was better lit than the waiting room, which made sense considering what it was for. At the centre of the room was a small round table with a strip of black velvet draped over it and old looking chairs tucked in to either side. He took the seat he was offered and watched as she paced over to another table and grabbed a tray of burning incense and a small sketchpad before she returned and took the chair opposite him at the table.
“I will now tap into the spirit realm and draw upon their energies to find your soulmate. It requires a lot of focus, so please try not to do anything to distract me during the process. I will show you when it is done.” She explained. When Danny gave a nod of understanding, she shifted her weight in her chair and closed her eyes. After a few moments, she began to sway and Danny could see her eyes behind her lids begin to twitch. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and began to draw. Despite her eyes seeming glazed over, she never missed the paper in front of her even when she swapped to a different pencil, seeming completely in the zone. It could have been five minutes or an hour, but eventually the psychic stopped drawing and shook her head as if snapping out of a daze. Danny sat up in his chair excited. He was going to find out what his soulmate looked like. Would he already know them, or would it be a completely unfamiliar face? He watched the woman expectantly, waiting for her to turn the paper around. She looked down at her work and froze with a completely bewildered expression on her face.
“W-What the fuck?” Blurted from her mouth as her eyes remained wide open. Danny felt a pit form in his stomach. What the hell could that reaction mean?
“What’s wrong? Who did you draw?” Danny asked, making no attempt to hide how nervous he felt in his tone. The woman quickly looked up at him, then back at the drawing, before returning her gaze to him.
“Something’s gone wrong. I don’t understand why I drew this.” She stated, looking extremely confused. Danny pushed himself out of the chair and onto his feet.
“What is it? Show me!” He cried out, more and more panicked by the second. The woman’s eyes widened even further and she clung the drawing to her chest.
“That might not be a good idea. Maybe I should try again –”
“No! Give it to me!” He demanded, striding over to her and tugging the sketchpad out of her hands, her reflexes being too slow to stop him. When he turned the drawing side towards himself, it felt like his brain shut down. She’d just drawn him but with green eyes and without filling in his hair dark.
“What the hell? Is this some kind of joke?” He asked, anger rising in his chest.
“What – No! I did what I always do, I don’t know what went wrong!” She replied, panic warping her features. Danny scoffed.
“Yeah, right. Am I supposed to believe some spirits told you that my soulmate is just me in a blonde wig? I knew psychics were fake, why did I think…” He started to complain, stopping himself when he felt tears trailing down his face. He had to get out of there before it could get any more embarrassing. Without any warning, Danny took off, clutching the snatched sketchpad to his chest and bolting all the way home. Angrily, he threw the sketchpad into the back of his cupboard and slammed it shut before throwing himself onto the bed and crying until he fell asleep.
///
Phantom groaned as he saw the contents of Danny’s latest purchase.
“Danny! You already own shoes nearly identical to these!” He berated, hovering over his human half as he reclined on the bed. Danny looked up from his phone to see what Phantom was talking about.
“Oh. Whoops. I’ll return them tomorrow.” He stated, before turning his attention back to the phone. Phantom rolled his eyes. Despite this split not being as severe as it was the first time in terms of personality clashes, Phantom still had moments where Danny’s episodes of laziness were incredibly frustrating.
“If you bothered to keep your closet tidy, you wouldn’t get yourself into situations where you can’t remember what you already own.” Phantom lectured, lingering over the human under scrutiny. Danny sighed as he put the phone down.
“Ugh, you’re right. It just got so bad so fast, so it’s hard to know how to start.” Danny admitted, sitting up on the bed. Phantom smiled at his other half, heart warmed by the maturity to admit he made a mistake. More often than not he found himself enjoying the type of person his other half was. Despite the odd complaint here and there, he was truly grateful it was better this time. He wasn’t sure he’d keep it together long enough for the ghost catcher to be repaired if he had to deal with “fun” Danny instead of “easily distracted but means well” Danny. To be fair, the human had a lot more things to focus on than him. All Phantom had to think about was stopping ghosts and that wasn’t even all the time.
“Tell you what; how about I help you? It won’t seem nearly as daunting with someone pitching in.” Phantom suggested, lowering himself to be level with Danny. The human gave a grateful smile and nod, and the two of them made their way to the closet.
“You work on picking up the clothes that have fallen off their hangers and rehang them, I’ll pick up all the miscellaneous items and see if I can find a more appropriate home for them. Then, the shoes should be easy to deal with.” Phantom instructed, before getting to work. It was strange how much easier it was to have organised thoughts now they were separated. He supposed that was because his thought process no longer relied on getting enough chemicals in order to focus. It was a hidden plus that when Danny was forcing himself to concentrate he made the silliest little faces. Not that Phantom would ever tell him.
After pulling out a basketball, an old school bag, and several old text books, Phantom stumbled upon a sketchpad. Turning it over, he was surprised to see a drawing of himself on the front page. It was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t recall why, just like with any memory from Danny that had happened before the portal accident. For some reason Phantom didn’t have a hundred percent access to those memories, but usually it didn’t bother him too much until now. Why did Danny have a drawing of Phantom before he existed? Attempting to calm down, he tried to rationalise it. Maybe this drawing happened after the current split, and it only seems familiar because it’s him.
“Danny? What’s this?” Phantom asked, turning the drawing to his human half and waiting for what he hoped was a rational explanation. Danny glanced over curiously, but as soon as he caught sight of the sketchpad his face went white and his expression dropped.
“W-Where did you get that?” Danny stammered, looking like he was going to throw up.
“It was in the back of your closet. What’s going on?” Phantom questioned, getting worried. Danny tentatively reached forward and plucked the drawing out of Phantoms hands, staring at the thing like he couldn’t believe it was real.
“I forgot all about this. I was so upset. I wanted to forget about it. I can’t believe…” Danny murmured, trailing off as his gaze drifted from the paper to Phantom.
“Danny, you’re scaring me.” Phantom whispered, watching myriad emotions dance across the human’s face and body language. Eventually, he locked onto nervous and shifted uncomfortably as he struggled to maintain eye contact with Phantom.
“I should explain. When I was thirteen, I went to this psychic who claimed she could draw a person’s… soulmate.” Danny began shakily, blushing with embarrassment. Phantom’s eyes went wide as he realised what the human was saying.
“Sh-She drew m-me?” Phantom asked, voice shaking just as much as Danny’s had. Instead of speaking, Danny offered an awkward nod.
“For you?” Phantom continued to question. Anybody else might have been happy making the assumption, but he had to know for sure. Danny clenched his eyes shut and gave an even more frantic nod. Phantom felt anchored and weightless all at once. He wasn’t just a ghost half, he was a soulmate. To Danny. Phantom felt like he could laugh and shoot up into the stratosphere until Danny’s reaction fully hit him. The human was still sitting with his eyes scrunched up and his body tense, like he was bracing to be hit with a fire-hose. Was this not a happy revelation for both of them? Phantom floated closer to Danny and carefully placed a hand on his shoulder.
“What’s wrong? Do you not want to be soulmates?” The question got Danny to open his eyes and look up at him with a confused, indecisive expression.
“How can we be soulmates? We’re the same person.” Danny mumbled. Phantom paused to think. Sure they used to be the same person, but were they the same person like this? Neither of them was like a duplicate that behaved like an extra limb, and they both had independent thoughts and feelings. Is that all it takes for someone to be a different person? Phantom shook his head and placed his other hand on Danny’s cheek.
“It doesn’t matter how. All I know is that I’m happy by your side and I don’t want to leave. Are you happy? Would you want me to leave?” Phantom spoke softly, yet determined. Danny’s eyes blew wide open as he gazed into Phantom’s.
“No! I mean, I’m happy and I don’t want you to leave!” Danny replied frantically, as if the idea of Phantom leaving was the scariest thing he could think of. Phantom leaning in and pressed their foreheads together, relishing in the human’s body heat.
“If a soulmate is somebody you want to be with forever, then I’d call you my soulmate in a heartbeat.” Phantom quietly declared. He felt the body he was holding shiver.
“Really?” Danny whispered, pulling away just far enough to look clearly in Phantom’s eyes.
“With absolutely no hesitation.” Phantom answered, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss into Danny’s lips.
Needless to say, when the ghost catcher was finally fixed, they didn’t see a need to use it.
BONUS:
Hayley sipped her tea as she watched the television in her cosy little break room. One of the perks from pretending to have psychic powers was that certain clients sent her gifts when they were satisfied with her work. The tea had been a gift from a woman who had somehow managed to end up with who Hayley had based her “psychic vision” on. All she’d done was look the woman up on Facebook and imagined who would be a good pick for her based on her friends list. Just like always, she didn’t pick until she began drawing. It was more fun that way and required less thinking. The only time her method hadn’t worked was with that poor boy. His teary face haunted her, and she’d questioned why she’d drawn what she had drawn since that day. Maybe that’s why when a certain news story interrupted her program, she immediately spat out her tea at what she saw.
Front and centre of the screen was the face of that boy, only now he had white hair, green eyes, and was shooting bright green beams at a ghost. The newscaster said he was a ghost that came through a portal from the Ghost Zone and Hayley immediately dropped her mug. How could she not? It was easy to be shocked that after hundreds of times of pretending to tap into the spirit realm, she actually had for once. Who knows, maybe she had been tapping into this “Ghost Zone” this whole time, and ghosts were the reason she had been so successful for so many years?
So years later, when she received an invitation in the mail to the wedding of Daniel Fenton and Phantom, she was more than happy to RSVP as attending.
#Danny Phantom#pitchpearl#Fenton/Phantom#fan fiction#one shot#danny fenton#pitch pearl#ghost catcher#soulmates
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Trapped in the Amber - 1x01
I promise I’m not dead! I know I haven’t been posting anything lately, but that’s because what I’ve been writing is mostly... well, this. The most ridiculously self-indulgent bullshit I’ve written in a long time, and it’s also the longest thing I’ve ever written, and it’s still not even half way done.
I admit, I’m very self-conscious about this, because the nastier side of fandom has infected me with some bullshit prejudices that I haven’t completely managed to exorcise yet, but... I’m tired of being worried it’s not ‘good enough’, and maybe, if people do like it at all, it’ll motivate me to pick it back up.
So, here I am, retelling Supernatural right from the start, with a next gen OC tagging along, fixing things here and there. (...Yeah, god, I know how that sounds...) It’s going to start out... sticking pretty close to the Supernatural script, although I tried to limit the amount of times I quoted the show verbatim, it still happens sometimes. The story will diverge from canon more and more as the little changes start piling up and having an effect, but... That’s a long way off, tbh.
(For anyone who cares and doesn’t know me well enough to guess, the primary future!ships are Dean/Cas/Gabe and Sam/Mia, but apart from the main character being a Dean/Cas/Gabe baby who loves her parents, there really isn’t that much more focus on romance than there is in the show. For now.)
Blackwater Ridge, Lost Creek, Colorado – Friday 11th November 2005
Landing in the past feels like hitting the emergency stop on a bullet train, like she left her internal organs behind somewhere on the timeline. Meira knows it’s the past because the timeline had felt thick and gooey as she fell. Falling in the other direction would have felt worse, but that doesn’t mean she enjoyed the trip. Add that to the sensation of her grace suddenly retreating to coil up under her skin like a wounded animal, and she thinks it’s no surprise that the first thing she does once there’s solid ground beneath her feet is throw up.
“Oh, son of a bitch.” She groans once her stomach feels like it’s settled mostly back where it’s supposed to be. She braces her shoulder on a tree that’s conveniently nearby, and tries to get her bearings. She’s in a forest, she sees, as she looks around. There are a lot of forests on earth. There are forests elsewhere in the universe too, but she’s… pretty sure this is earth, anyway. And she’s somewhen in the past, although she can’t get any sense of where she actually is on the timeline, and when she tries to reach out with her grace to find out, a sharp, awful pain lances through her soul. She groans and staggers, leaning more of her weight against the tree and forcing her knees to keep her upright out of sheer force of will. She is not trying that again.
The thought that there might be something wrong with her grace is terrifying. She’s stranded, and she can’t get home. She thinks she might be able to manifest her wings, she can still feel them, after all, so they’re not gone, but she wouldn’t be able to fly on them. She can’t fly. She can’t fly.
The panic sits sharp and cloying in the back of her throat, and she swallows hard, as if that might get rid of it. It doesn’t. “Motherfucker.” She swears, and hates that it comes out more reedy than fierce. She has no idea how this happened, either, which doesn’t help. Well, she has some idea, because Heaven, Hell, and everyone in between has been trying to get rid of her for her entire life, and if whatever’s wrong with her grace is why she fell into the past, then she’d say someone finally succeeded. Dad’s going to go ballistic, she thinks, not sure if it makes her want to laugh, or cry.
“Hey, lady.” Someone barks, and Meira flinches so hard she nearly falls over. It’s only a decade of various combat training that saves her from ending up on her ass in the dirt. She has never in her life been unable to sense the people around her before. She’s always felt the shades and shapes of people’s souls. Until now, apparently, with her grace trapped under her skin and unable to reach out to feel the nuances of her environment.
The man standing a little ways off is fairly nondescript, with short-cropped light blonde hair and a touch of stubble, wearing what looked like wilderness gear. Meira has no idea what lies beneath his face, whether she can trust him or not and it makes her uneasy. “What’re you doing out here?” He demands.
“Getting lost?” Meira sasses, because nervousness has never helped shut her up.
And then, another man steps out of the underbrush, but this one, Meira recognises. It’s her dad. Even though he looks so baby-faced and young, she’d know him anywhere. The relief is like a physical blow and she sags against another tree. “And my name’s Meira.” She adds. “Not ‘lady’, thanks.”
Dad quirks a grin, enjoying her sass, and then says, with every ounce of cocky bravado she’s ever seen him use and then some; “Nice to meet you, Meira. I’m Dean.” He glances over at the other guy. “And this is… I’m sorry, what was your name again?” The question is so obviously insincere, and Meira chokes on an incredulous laugh, because she’s seen her dad playful before, even bordering on mean when he’s trying not to admit something’s wrong, but that was something else. It’s macho-posturing, she realises, with a mixture of hilarity and dread. He’s showing off, like a twat, for her.
Oh, god. She’s going to have to nip that right in the bud, or she’s going to throw up again.
“Roy. Roy Roberts.” The other guy replies through gritted teeth, glaring at Dad – at Dean, she’s going to have to get used to that, or she’s going to slip up, and things are going to get awkward real fast – with enough venom to bring down an elephant.
“Hey, mind if I tag along with you guys?” Meira asks, to diffuse some of the angry tension in the air. Absently she wonders if this is before Dean has admitted that he’s into guys, too, because that might explain some of that. Roy is a fairly good looking guy, after all. He reminds Meira of that guy who played Bond in those movies Dad likes from before she was born. That… probably haven’t even been made yet. Damn it. She’s going to have to be careful with things like that. “I have no idea where I am right now.” She adds, because Roy does not look convinced.
“We’re heading further in, not back out.” He warns her.
Meira shrugs. “You’re still a better option than trying to make it by myself.” And she has absolutely no intention of going anywhere without Dad. It’s not really very rational, but he’s her only point of reference right now, and until she can get her feet under herself and figure out what the fuck to do, she could use the illusion of support. So she grins into the face of Roy’s unimpressed glower. “You know I’m just asking as a formality, right? If you say no, I’ll just follow you anyway, because what the hell else am I gonna do?”
Roy’s glower shades towards resigned, and Meira knows she’s won. Her grin sharpens, and he rolls his eyes, but nods his acceptance. “Come on, then, if you’re coming.” He instructs, heading back the way he came without any further ado, leaving Meira alone with her baby-faced father.
There’s a brief moment where they stare at each other, both of them at a loss, and then Dad – Dean – jerks his head towards the bit of forest Roy disappeared into, and Meira takes that as her cue to fall into step with him. “So, before you were getting lost, what were you doing out here?” Dean asks, looking at her with open curiosity. Then his eyes flicker down and up again, and Meira catches herself before an Enochian exorcism can fall out of her mouth on instinct.
Instead, she switches to the first lie she can come up with that might make her dad stop looking at her like that. “I was running away from a dickbag who wouldn’t take no for an answer.” She says without looking at him.
There’s a beat of silence, and a glance shows Meira that Dean is grimacing. “What an asshole.” He comments, just as they catch up with the others again. Roy looks sour, but he’s attentive, scanning the surroundings with a keen eye, which Meira appreciates, and standing nearby is Uncle Sam. Only he’s a squishy-cheeked, smooth-faced, gangly-limbed baby-Uncle now. Meira has to bite back the urge to coo and possibly pinch his cheeks.
The other two in the group are people Meira doesn’t recognise, a teenage boy with close-cropped hair, and a young woman with cute dimples that show when she smiles at Meira in greeting. Meira smiles back with extra warmth. “This is my brother, Sam.” Dean says, taking it upon himself to do introductions. “And this is Haley and Ben Collins. Their brother’s gone missing, which is why we’re here, looking for him.” He explains, gesturing.
“I hope we find him.” Meira says, specifically to Haley. She’s just decided that Haley is her salvation, and she offers her hand to the other woman to shake. “I’m Meira.” Haley takes her hand with just a hint of befuddlement.
“Alright, let’s keep moving.” Roy calls, before Meira can add anything else. She does let her hand linger, though, just a touch, before she retracts it. Their group moves off again, and Meira makes it a point to walk beside Haley.
“Tell me about your brother?” She asks, just to strike up conversation.
Haley glances at her sideways, but obliges. It’s clear she loves her family, just the way she talks about them, and Meira catches herself smiling for real, and not just as a flirtation, although it’s that as well. She does make a point to tell Haley how admirable she thinks it is, that sort of devotion to family, and Haley ducks her head with a rueful smile, bashful.
Behind them, Sam snickers. Meira glances back and catches a disgruntled pout on her dad’s face before he smooths it out into something more neutral once he realises she’s looking. She makes a bit of a show of glancing between Haley and Dean, and then grins, unrepentant, and shrugs in faux-apology. Dean snorts and waves her off, conceding defeat gracefully enough.
When Meira turns back around, Haley is watching her, one eyebrow arched. Meira refuses to feel sheepish at being caught out, and just nudges her with her shoulder, gentle and teasing, and asks her another question about her life. Haley rolls her eyes, but answers.
The conversation carries them on through the afternoon, until they reach a point where Roy stops. It’s almost a clearing, if it wasn’t for the waist-high undergrowth. “This is it.” Roy says, looking about them. “Blackwater Ridge.”
“What coordinates are we at?” Uncle Sam asks at once. Roy answers, and Meira aches a little at just how incomprehensible the numbers are. Before, she would have just known where she was, and she feels a little sick, being made aware of just how little she can tell about the world around her now. She looks around, hating how small she feels, how muffled everything is. She doesn’t dare try to reach out with her grace again, but she wants to, just to make that feeling of wrong go away.
“I’m going to go take a look around.” Roy announces.
Meira whips around to give him an incredulous look. He might not be in the know, might not realise that Sam and Dean are probably on a hunt right now, but even so, it seems reckless for anyone to go off on their own. “You shouldn’t go off by yourself.” Sam points out, so Meira doesn’t have to.
“I’ll go with you.” Meira offers, since no one else seems like they’re about to.
It earns her incredulous looks from all quarters, and a disparaging one from Roy. Meira gives him a hard look in return, the sort of ‘do you really want to try me, bitch?’ look that Pabbi has always told her makes her look like her qaada. And she might not be able to bring her grace to bear along with it like she usually does, but she is still an angel, no matter how constrained, and it would take a tougher man than Roy Roberts to not even blink in the face of heavenly wrath.
“Look,” he says in a carefully reasonable tone, “I know these woods, and I’m just going to have a look around, see if I can find any signs of people. I’ll be fine. You’ll be safer staying here.”
“You’d be safer staying with the group, too.” Dean interjects, making no effort to sound inoffensive. Roy gives him a sour look.
“Why don’t we all go?” Haley suggests, all false brightness and impatience.
Roy raises his hands in frustrated surrender, and heads off into the woods. The rest of them follow along like good little ducklings. They do spread out a little as they go, looking for any signs of other people in the area. Meira is not an expert woodsman, but she’d learned a few things growing up with a hunter family, and she tries to pay attention, to be helpful.
“Haley! Over here!” Roy shouts suddenly. Everyone bolts towards the shout, and they come out in a clearing with three tents lying there in mangled wreckages, blood-splattered and torn. “Oh my god…” Haley breathes, sounding horrified. Meira doesn’t blame her. She feels a little bit sick, too, and it’s not her brother’s campsite. The thought of something like this happening to Jace makes her want to smite something, and her grace roils under her skin, pushing at the boundaries of her physical form and aching every time it brushes against the inside of her skin.
“Looks like a grizzly.” Roy remarks, cool and practical.
Meira thinks not. Not only because if it was, it’s unlikely her dad and her uncle would be here, but also because there would be more blood and less wanton destruction if it had been a normal animal. If a bear had been hungry enough to hunt people, there would be a lot more blood, at least, and if it was pissed at them being on its territory, there would be bodies. But there aren’t. Just a bit of blood splattered about here and there, and a lot of claw marks.
Haley begins shouting for her brother, and Meira grabs her arm before she can walk any further into the camp. “Don’t.” She warns, eyeing the surrounding woods warily.
“What?” Haley demands, eyes a little wild. “Why not?”
“Something might still be out there.” Sam interjects, giving Meira a respectful nod. She tries to smile back, but she’s not too proud to admit that she’s scared. She ought to be able to tell what did this, to feel the spirits and souls around her and know. But she can’t.
“Sam!” Dean calls, and Sam heads off at a brisk clip.
Meira heads after him on instinct. Haley follows her for about three steps before Ben calls out in a voice that wavers despite his best efforts, and she turns back to him without hesitation. Meira catches up to Sam just in time to hear Dean saying “-tell you what, it’s no skin-walker or black dog.” Then Dean turns and stalls at the sight of her. “Uh…” He says, staring at her like a deer in the headlights.
In other circumstances, Meira might glory in making her dad look like that for once, instead of the other way around, but she’s still feeling unnerved enough that it’s hard to wring any humour out of the situation. “Why are we ruling out skin-walkers and black dogs?” She asks, propping her shoulder on a tree and crossing her arms. It looks less pathetic than curling her arms around her sides, but it still serves to make herself feel better. What would be best would be a hug from her dad, but there’s no way she’d ask for that when he’d probably just take it the wrong way.
“You-” Sam begins, realisation dawning in his expression.
“You’re a Hunter?” Dean demands.
“More or less.” Meira agrees. It’s never been a title that sits right on her shoulders. Not when she’s spent her whole life surrounded by people who actually dedicated themselves to the job, while she’s always felt more like a kid mucking about with a hobby. At Dean’s sceptical, bordering on suspicious look, she elaborates. “I was raised to it, but I’ve never… dedicated myself to it.” She hedged. “I just help out here and there when something crosses my path.”
“Right.” Dean acknowledges, and then jerks his head towards something behind him. Meira comes closer to look, and Dean explains the tracks. It’s almost like being a kid again, with Dad schooling her on this or that aspect of hunting.
“A skin-walker or a black dog could drag a person away, but you’re right, the tracks just stopping like that is weird.” Meira acknowledges, wracking her brains for what could do this. “A phantom cat could, too. Or a wendigo or a moonfiend. Or a harpy, maybe. It’s too early for a werewolf.”
“Werewolves don’t tend to drag their victims off, never mind vanish with them.” Dean points out.
“What’s a moonfiend?” Sam asks.
Meira blinks, reminded suddenly that this is not really her uncle. “It’s a… It’s kind of like a mothman, but less aggressive. They’re mostly harmless, actually, really shy, but if they’ve staked out a territory, you don’t want to go wandering into it.�� She explains absently. “It’s just that they can fly, which would explain…” She gestures at the vanishing tracks. “Like Harpies. Wendigos are strong and agile enough to lift a human body, and phantom cats are spirits. It’s possible a phantom cats could transport a victim that way, but they don’t tend to drag people off, either.”
“Phantom cat. That’s the animal version of a poltergeist, right?” Dean checks.
Meira nods. “Yeah, pretty much. Although normal poltergeists generally just want to hurt or kill you, but some legends suggest that phantom cats steal souls.”
“The pattern of attacks would suggest it’s hunting, not protecting territory, so I don’t think it’s a moonfiend.” Sam adds with a grimace.
The three of them look at each other, all of them coming to the same conclusion, none of them actually willing to say it out loud. Before someone can muster their courage, the forest air is shattered with a shout.
“HELP!”
Meira startles, and then lurches into a run before she’s had time to think. Of course, Dean and Sam are already on the move, too, even as a second, and then a third cry echoes through the forest. They converge with the others, a wordless scream that sounds closer than ever egging them on. Then the forest goes silent, and they slow to a stop, wary and alert, listening hard. “It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn’t it?” Haley asks.
Meira feels painfully vulnerable, and she tests her grace, to see if she can conjure her blade. It’s made from her grace, and it’s still there, so the blade should be there, but when she tries to manifest it, a lance of white-hot pain ricochets through her, and she clutches at her wrist, gritting her teeth against the agony.
“Everybody back to camp.” Sam orders, and Meira obeys on instinct. She’s never felt so vulnerable before in her entire life, and it only gets worse when she realises they’ve fallen for a trap and all their gear is gone. Before, she wouldn’t have worried. She’s an angel, she can survive off the ambient energy of the universe if she needs to. It’s not fun, but it’s possible. But now, she has no idea what she can and can’t do. Her grace is still there, warming her bones, but every time she reaches for it, all she gets is pain.
“Alright, listen up.” Sam says briskly, looking around the camp with a tight expression on his face. “It’s time to go. Things have gotten more complicated.”
“What?” Haley asks, incredulous and irritated.
“Kid, don’t worry. Whatever’s out there, I think I can handle it.” Roy says, and Meira’s tempted to deck him for the condescending arrogance in his voice.
“If you don’t even know what it is, you have no idea whether you can handle it.” She snaps. It seems to startle everyone, but Meira doesn’t care. Yesterday, a wendigo wouldn’t have frightened her. She could move faster than it, could burn it to death with just a touch of the holy light in her soul, but today, she’s as helpless as Roy Roberts, and it pisses her off that he’s not as scared as she is.
“Sweetheart, when you’ve been hunting as long as I have, there isn’t much the woods can throw at you that you can’t handle.” Roy retorts smugly.
Meira scoffs incredulously, suddenly hating him. “Oh, that’s what this is. Did Sam taking charge just now wound your fragile male ego? Are you really going to put everyone here at risk because of your god damned pride?”
“How dare you suggest-”
“Hey, relax.” Dean interjects. Even though it isn’t directed at her, Meira can’t help but subside, too used to Dad mediating arguments between her and Jace, or her and Rob, or her and Pabbi that way.
Apparently, Uncle Sam hasn’t gotten the memo, though. “She’s right.” He says, as if Dad hadn’t said anything at all. “You have no idea what’s out there, what it can do. I’m just trying to protect you.”
“You, protect me?” Roy scoffs. “I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you goodnight.” He spits, getting into Uncle Sam’s face.
“Isn’t it about time you retired, then?” Meira snarks.
“You shut your mouth.” Roy barks, rounding on her.
“Okay, that’s enough!” Dad snaps, getting between them with both his hands out as if to physically hold them away from each other. “Just chill out, okay?” He prompts, giving Uncle Sam a pointed look. Meira tucks her arms around herself and tries not to freak out any more than she already has. Haley putting a hand on her shoulder makes her jump, but the comforting squeeze she gets helps a little.
“We don’t have time, Dean. We have to get these people out of here before this thing eats them alive.” Uncle Sam protests furiously.
“Look.” Haley speaks up, interrupting whatever Roy had been about to say in answer to that. “Tommy might still be alive.” She states, and Meira knows what’s coming next. She knows, because it’s what she’d say if it was Jace out here, in the claws of a wendigo. It’s what Dad would say if it was Uncle Sam. “And I’m not leaving here without him.”
“Then we’re going to need fire.” Meira says. “Lots and lots of fire.”
Blackwater Ridge, Lost Creek, Colorado – Saturday 12th November 2005
They build up a large campfire, and several smaller fires, too, and Meira helps her dad draw protective symbols around their camp. And then they sit and wait for morning or the wendigo, whichever comes first. The hours draw on interminably, and Meira sits right by the fire, close enough that she feels a little feverish with the heat baking her face, but it’s close enough that she could grab one of the big branches out of the fire if she needed to.
Sitting and waiting isn’t the best plan though, she thinks grimly. For morning, yes. Wendigos don’t really like bright sunlight, so they’ll have that small advantage once the sun rises, but after that? Haley isn’t leaving without her brother, and her brother, if he’s still alive, will be in the wendigo’s lair. Which they’ll need to find, and get into, and get out of, without dying or getting caught themselves.
“What’re you thinking?” Haley asks quietly, nudging her.
Meira glances at her, sees how worried she looks, and musters up a smile. “I’m trying to figure out how we’re going to find Tommy.” Haley blinks, then almost smiles, except not really. Meira knows the feeling, and goes back to staring at the fire. “Even if we kill this thing, we’d still need to find him, and… Shit, that’s a lot of wilderness to comb through.”
“We’ll do it.” Haley insists stubbornly. “I’ll do it.”
Meira smiles, slanting a fond look at her. “I know.” She assures her. “I have a little brother, too. I’d take on a wendigo for him, too.” That wouldn’t really have been saying much before, but now? Like this? She still means it.
“A…” Haley falters, frowning. “I’ve heard of that before. Isn’t that some sort of Native legend or something?”
Meira nodded. “Algonquian peoples, primarily. They tended to live more northward, where the long, lean winters often led to starvation. And starvation sometimes led to people who who looked at their families and friends, and saw not people they loved, but food.” Haley shudders in distaste. “And once they’ve eaten someone, they start craving it, and every time they eat someone else, they turn a little bit more monstrous.”
Haley gives her a sharp look, fear buried under anger. “You mean this thing’s going to eat Tommy?” She demands in a harsh whisper.
“It’s planning to, yeah. But it probably hasn’t yet.” Meira reassures, reaching out to put an arm around Haley’s shoulders. Haley grabs her other wrist in a desperate, unthinking motion, clinging to hope. “Wendigos are born of deprivation, they know what it’s like to go hungry, and they hate it. They tend to hunt in spurts, and hibernate for long stretches of time in between, but they don’t gorge themselves. They’ll take people alive if they can, so they have food for later.”
Haley squeezes her eyes shut. Then she sets her jaw and nods. “How can we kill this thing?” She asks in a hard voice.
Meira looks away. “I’m starting to wonder if we should.” She admits.
“What?” Haley asks, so sharply that Sam and Dean look over at them from where they’re sitting together across the fire, heads bent together and discussing something.
Meira opens her mouth to explain what she’s thinking, what she doesn’t want to be thinking, but before she can, someone out in the woods calls for help. She cringes, even as everyone else leaps to their feet, those with guns aiming them out into the night. She knows that it’s the wendigo, knows that it isn’t some poor bastard getting chowed on, but… well, before, she would have known, would have felt it, would have been able to tell for sure that, no, the only soul out there is the corrupted one of the wendigo. Now, all she has to go on is cold logic. It’s enough to convince her head, but not her soul.
Some part of her still feels the need to go and check, to be sure, because what if she’s just sitting here, listening to someone die when she could have helped them? Then the gunfire starts up. “I hit it!” Roy shouts suddenly, and Meira’s head jerks up just in time to see him dodging around one of their extra fires and rushing out into the woods.
She’s on her feet before she can think about it. Then she hesitates. What is she going to do, without her grace? But she can’t just leave him to his fate, either, no matter how much she doesn’t like him. “Don’t move!” Her dad orders, right before going after Roy himself.
That cinches it, really. Meira’s not leaving her dad out there with a wendigo. She snatches up one of the burning sticks, and bolts after them. “Meira!” Uncle Sam shouts, reaching out to try and grab her, but Meira’s played that game a million times, it’s habit to flex her grace to give herself just a little bit more speed so that she’s not where he expects her to be.
And this time, it works.
It’s such a relief she nearly stumbles, but she doesn’t have time to waste, so she catches her balance and runs on. She’s right behind Dad, and Roy is up ahead, and she can hear the wendigo in the trees. “It’s over here!” The wendigo calls with someone else’s voice, and Meira can see it reaching for Roy. The world blurs as she lunges, practically tackling Roy out of the way just as the wendigo’s hands flash out and the claws sink into her face.
She could retaliate, she has her stick, but she remembers the thoughts that had been plaguing her earlier, and doesn’t.
The wendigo jerks her, hard, but Meira’s grace isn’t gone. It’s just trapped, which means that when her neck snaps, it’s nothing more than a minor inconvenience. Painful, sure, but her grace heals the damage almost as soon as it’s been done. The wendigo gives her another shake, nearly breaking her neck again, and then wrenches the burning stick away from her, tossing it back down to the ground. She lets it, because she doesn’t want to have to heal being eaten, and then plays limp ragdoll as the wendigo darts off through the trees with her. It won’t fool it forever, but it should fool it long enough for it to take her back to its lair.
They drop back to the forest floor eventually, and then further down still, underground, Meira realises. A cave, or an abandoned mine, perhaps. She’s tossed into a larger cavern, lets herself roll limply along the floor, and the wendigo retreats. Meira’s just going to have to hope that her dad and uncle can keep Haley and Ben alive through the night.
“Ugh.” She groans and sits up, rubbing at the back of her neck. She’s human enough that that sort of damage is still unnerving, and leaves her feeling vaguely squeamish for hours afterwards. So worth it just to know her grace still works, though.
“Holy shit!”
Meira stills, looking around. The cavern is not, in fact, pitch black. There’s faint light seeping in from somewhere above her head, moonlight, and it’s just about enough for her to see by. There’s a man strung up from the rafters that looks enough like Haley and Ben that Meira feels pretty safe in guessing “Tommy Collins?”
“Yeah.” Tommy says breathlessly. “I thought you were dead.”
“That’s what I wanted it to think.” Meira tells him with a shrug, clambering to her feet and dusting herself off. “Now, let’s see if we can’t get you down.” She wishes, briefly but intensely, for her blade. It’s right there, sitting inside her soul, and she can’t manifest it. Instead, she casts about for something in the cave that they’re in, and settles on a broken shard of rock from the floor of the cave. It worked for prehistoric people well enough.
“How- how’d you know who I am?” Tommy asks after Meira’s been sawing at the ropes for a few minutes. They’re starting to fray, finally, which is a relief.
“Your brother and sister have come looking for you.” Meira tells him. “Brought me and a couple others along with them.”
“Oh, god.” Tommy groans. “Are they okay?”
“Worried about you, but otherwise, yeah. Last I saw, anyway. And D- Dean and Sam know how to handle a wendigo. They’ll look after them, I promise.” Tommy lets out a shuddering breath, nodding to himself.
“I think this is backwards.” Tommy says in a tone of forced cheer. Meira hums curiously, scowling at the rope as she continues to work at it. “We’ll the beautiful damsel is rescuing the handsome knight from the monster.” He points out.
Meira snorts her way into laughter, and leans back to get a better look at him. “You are cute.” She acknowledges, and in other circumstances, she might have flirted back, because she’s gotten the feeling that both Haley and Tommy are straight. “But your sister’s cuter.” She adds, going back to her work. The rope gives way before Tommy manages to muster up a response to that. He staggers when he drops, having been strung up for so long and deprived of sustenance that his balance is shot to shit. Meira catches him and slings one of his arms over her shoulder. “Do you know if your friends are still alive?” She asks him. There’s no one else in this cave, she doesn’t think, although she can’t be entirely sure of that with her grace locked down like this, but she’s pretty sure this won’t be the only place the wendigo has to stash its snacks.
She feels more than sees Tommy shake his head. “N-no, it-” He stammers out. “Oh god.” He says, and Meira recognises that tone well enough to shift the way she’s supporting him so that when he doubles over and retches, she doesn’t get covered in bile.
“Easy.” Meira soothes, rubbing a hand over his back. He dry heaves a few more times, but manages to regain control of himself after that. “Yeah, I can’t imagine watching something like that was any fun.” She muses, tugging him back upright and setting off. She hopes she can remember the way out. “Let’s get you out of here.”
“What about- about that thing?” Tommy asks her as they stagger along, into the first of several pitch-black tunnels.
“It’s almost certainly out in the woods right now, hunting the others.” Meira tells him, which she is aware is not as comforting as it could be, given that ‘the others’ includes family for both of them. Tommy swears, and Meira grimaces, figuring she can at least help a little bit. “Sam and Dean know how to handle something like this.” She assures him. “And they have plenty of fire. They’ll keep Haley and Ben safe. And I’m going to keep you safe.”
“In normal circumstances, that would sound ridiculous.” Tommy mutters.
“Don’t be sexist.” Meira chides, but she keeps her tone light, and gives him a gentle little jostle with her shoulder to let him know she’s mostly teasing. Then she sobers, because short of actually eating her alive, which admittedly is a possibility, the wendigo can’t kill her, but it could definitely kill Tommy, and if he’s going to play machismo bullshit because she’s a lady, she really does need to nip that in the bud. “But I’m serious. If it does come back, if we run into it, don’t you dare try to play the hero, alright?” She puts a touch of divine command into her tone. “I am not your responsibility, do not wait for me, do not come back for me, do not try to throw yourself into harms way to protect me. Am I clear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Tommy mumbles, resentful and bewildered.
The rest of the slog out of the mines is made in silence, save for Tommy’s ragged breathing and Meira’s occasional curse when she makes a wrong turn and they have to double back. Finally, though, Meira picks out a hint of light and follows it to the exit. It looks like it might have been boarded up once, but the wendigo has made a neat little opening for itself, and she and Tommy stagger out into in the dim grey-blue light of false dawn.
Tommy chokes back a sob of relief. Meira grins at the sound and shifts him higher on her shoulder. “Come on, we don’t want to get caught here if it comes back.” She points out, and that convinces Tommy to pick up his pace. It’s still slow going, because he’s still pretty unhealthy after two days chained up in a cave with minimal sustenance. The wendigo probably wouldn’t have fed him, but they had been known to give captives water. They also have undergrowth to contend with now, and Meira might heal a broken ankle, but Tommy won’t.
“Where… are the others?” Tommy asks.
Which is a hell of a good question. “I have no idea.” Meira tells him, feigning cheer. “Right now our priorities are water and some way of making fire.” She informs him, and Tommy drags them to a stop.
Tommy clearly knows more about wilderness survival than she does, because within a few minutes of her pointing out a need for it, Tommy has somehow managed to get a small fire going. They’re still too close to the wendigo’s lair for Meira’s comfort, but having a weapon that might actually do something to it is more important than trying to escape something that could outstrip a bullet. They build up a campfire, draw some protective sigils, and Meira fashions them both makeshift torches, wishing bitterly that she wasn’t reduced to such primitive tools all the while.
Meira risks leaving Tommy alone with the sigils to protect him just long enough to see if she can find any hint of running water nearby. She does, so they relocate, going through the whole process of warding all over again, this time closer to the water. Tommy looks a lot better for the chance to drink and wash his face, and then they have to figure out what the hell to do next.
“Finding the others ought to be priority over killing the wendigo.” Meira muses. “There’s just the problem of how to actually go about that.”
Tommy nods grimly. “If it wasn’t for the monster out there that wants to eat us, I’d say set up a base camp, search outwards, leave signs.” He summarises. Meira is about to suggest that they should do exactly that, then, when a furious snarl echoes through the woods. Tommy flinches so hard he falls over where he’s sitting, only barely catching himself with one hand in the dirt.
“Think it noticed we’re missing?” Meira asks rhetorically.
They sit, tense and wary, in the ensuing silence, waiting for something to happen. It doesn’t for long enough that Meira begins to wonder if she should do something. Then the yelling starts. “Help! Help me!” Meira clenches her hands into fists, heart squeezing.
“You know that’s not going to work, right?” She calls, standing slowly and bringing two of their burning sticks with her, one in each hand. Tommy hisses at her, grabbing at the hem of her coat as if that might make her sit and stop baiting the monster. A snarl answers her words, echoing oddly as the wendigo moves mid-sound and the doppler effect turns it multi-toned. “What? Pissed because you couldn’t kill me? We’re pretty tough prey, I bet you’ve figured by now. All this exertion must be making you kinda hungry.”
The roar that follows shakes the forest, full of fury and malice, and Meira nearly giggles hysterically. She only has the barest idea of what she’s doing, and her hands are shaking with the terror of having a predator that’s bigger than her focused solely on her, but she knows, she knows from painful, bitter experience that making someone angry makes them sloppy in the short term. And any advantage she can wring out of this situation, she needs.
Tauntingly, she steps a little closer to the edge of the protective sigils. And there it is, sprinting too fast for the mortal eye to catch, close enough to make the underbrush rustle right next to where Meira is standing, but not quite close enough for her to hit with one of her torches. Meira doesn’t want to start a forest fire, but oh, boy, is she tempted right now. “Is that supposed to scare me?” She mocks.
The wendigo rushes by again, and then- stops. In plain view. Not even looking at her. Tommy makes a choked noise of horror, and the wendigo doesn’t even twitch. Meira is so tempted to lunge out of the sigils at it, but it’s too easy, and she hesitates. She hesitates like an idiot until it’s suddenly gone, bounding off into the forest, and she realises what must have happened.
It heard something she couldn’t. Something that was easier prey.
“For fuck’s sake!” She explodes, and goes after it, even though it’s probably going to get her eaten.
“Hey! Hey, wait!” Tommy calls.
“Stay in the circle!” Meira calls over her shoulder. “If it comes back, set it on fire!”
The wendigo appears in front of her in an instant. Meira swings on instinct, a little too slow because she’s so off her game right now, but a little too slow is still something, because the flames pass by the wendigo’s emaciated flesh with inches to spare, and it must feel the heat, because it shrieks, an awful, too human sound of pain. A huge clawed hand strikes out, and tears right through the sleeve of her leather coat and into the flesh beneath. “Shit!” She curses, pained and indignant in equal measure, because if she’s guessing right about the limits on her abilities, she’s not going to be able to fix that.
“Meira?!” Uncle Sam’s voice shouts.
The wendigo ignores him, which means Meira succeeded in pissing it off. She ducks the second set of claws aiming for her throat, and then swings both torches up and in. They crash into either side of the wendigo’s head, and the smell of scorched flesh fills the forest just as Sam skids into view. The wendigo screams, rearing back and disappointingly not dead. Meira gears up for another swing, and the wendigo bolts. It’s gone in a flash, and Meira is about to go after it, to press her advantage, but then Uncle Sam is right in front of her, eyes wide. “Are you alright?” He demands, looking between her face and her arm.
“I’ll be fine.” Meira assures him, lowering her arms and hissing when the wound pulls. “My jacket on the other hand…” She bitches, tugging at the shoulder to get a better look at the tears. She whines when she gets a proper look at the damage.
“You bitch-slapped a wendigo in the face with a medieval torch, and you’re just upset about your jacket?” Sam asks incredulously.
Meira considers that. “I… huh. That was pretty cool, wasn’t it?” Sam snorts, shaking his head like he genuinely can’t believe her. Meira grins, before the situation catches up with her, and she jerks her head back the way she came. “We should get behind the wards I set up if we’re going to catch up.”
Sam, though, shakes his head. “I’ve gotta-” He gestures after the wendigo. Meira is just about to point out that running off half-cocked is going to get him dead, despite the disorientation of having to tell her Uncle that, when he goes on. “It took Dean and Haley.”
Meira stares at him for a long moment, then tips her head back. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me!” She whines at the sky. “I just got Tommy out!”
“You got Tommy?” Sam echoes, brightening.
Meira nods, and realises there’s really only one thing for her to do. “I’ll wait with him while you go help the others?” She offers, and Sam nods once, sharp and decisive. Meira thrusts one of the torches at him. “Here. Take that.” Sam does, muttering a quick thanks before he’s rushing off again, and Meira goes back to sit with Tommy.
It’s not even half an hour later when she hears footsteps, people moving through the woods, and then the others appear through the trees, all of them in a straggly exhausted group. Haley and Ben both let out cries of relief when they see their brother, and stumble into a sort of run while Tommy clambers to his feet in order to embrace them.
“Wendigo’s dead?” Meira checks.
“Yeah.” Dean confirms. “Shot it point blank with a flaregun.” He adds proudly. Meira whistles, impressed. Dean grins back at her. “Heard you hit it in the face with a torch?” He asks, jerking his head at Sam to indicate just where he heard that. “Pretty awesome.”
Meira shrugs, grinning bashfully. “I did what I could.”
Then she realises that Roy is watching her very intently. He looks more than a little worse for wear, something a bit wild around his eyes that suggests he’s not taking the existence of the supernatural very well at all. “You’re alive.” He says when Meira catches his eye.
“Yeah.” Meira confirms.
Roy swallows. “Coulda sworn that thing broke your neck.” He says, all of a sudden not quite able to look at her and instead staring somewhere over her shoulder.
“Oh, man, it tried.” She replied, grinning in a strange, giddy relief at the memory of how easily her grace had healed her. “Shook me like a ragdoll. But I’m fine.” She adds to reassure him, because he still looks a bit haunted.
Roy nods. There’s a long pause, and then he clears his throat. “You saved my life. When I was being an idiot.” He adds briskly, grimacing at himself. “Thank you.”
Meira shrugs, smiling ruefully. “Just because you’re an asshole, doesn’t mean you deserve to die.”
Dean snorts in amusement at that, and interrupts before Roy can say anything else. It doesn’t look like he knows what to say in any case. “Come on, let’s get back to civilisation. I don’t know about any of you lot, but I’m getting a little sick of these woods.”
No one’s going to object to that, so they get themselves organised, and follow Roy’s recovered GPS out of the forest. Along the way they discuss what, exactly, to tell the authorities, getting their stories straight. Meira’s mostly quiet as they hike, trying to figure out what she’s going to do now. Ideally, she wants to stick with Dean and Sam, but she isn’t entirely sure how to go about inviting herself along. She knows from her dad’s stories that he and Uncle Sam had been kind of codependent when they were younger, and trying to insert herself into such a close-knit dynamic is going to difficult.
She still hasn’t come up with any good ideas when they get back to a road and call the paramedics. Then it’s all chaos as everyone asks questions and gets medical attention. Sam tries to point the paramedics at Meira, but Meira dodges them with the excuse that it was just a scratch, she’ll be fine. “Hey.” Someone says behind her, and she turns to find Haley standing there, looking exhausted and overwhelmed.
“Hey, you alright?” Meira checks, touching her lightly on the arm.
Haley nods. “Thanks to you.” Meira shakes her head, but Haley presses the point. “You saved Tommy. You saved my brother.”
Meira relents with a smile, and shifts her hand up to brush her knuckles lightly over Haley’s cheek. “I’m glad I could help.” She says sincerely. Haley huffs, smiling incredulously.
“You never let up, do you?” She asks.
Meira shrugs and retreats. “I do mean it.” She points out.
Haley considers her for a long moment, then nods. “Yeah, I got that.” She acknowledges. Then she glances over to where Dean is finally escaping the paramedics himself. “I should go and say thank you to them, too.” She says, and Meira nods, watching her go. She watches them talk for a moment, before an idea occurs to her, and she hurries off to pickpocket a ranger, talk to Roy, and then circle back around to Haley. She gets there just in time to hear her say “Must you cheapen the moment?”
“Yeah.” Dean replies, as if it should be obvious.
Haley shakes her head, catches sight of Meira, and rolls her eyes. “The pair of you, I swear.” She huffs, and Meira grins. She’s heard it before, mostly from Qaada. Dad always protested that she’s way more like Pabbi, but given that the pair of them are the same flavour of irreverent flirt, she figures that’s one and the same.
Meira flips her stolen pen over in her fingers and proffers it to Haley. Haley takes it with a quizzical expression, while Meira shoves up her sleeve and presents her arm to her. “Gimme your number, and once I can get my hands on a new phone, I’ll text you.”
Haley narrows her eyes playfully. “And why should I?”
For once, Meira doesn’t rise to the bait. “Because then if you get into any other trouble, or if you see anything else weird, you can call me.” She explains. Haley’s eyes widen a little, and then she nods and scribbles a phone number onto Meira’s arm.
“Smooth.” Dean comments, half complimentary, half resentful, and Meira elbows him in retaliation. He elbows her back.
Haley shakes her head at both of them again, and then, surprising the hell out of Meira, she leans in and kisses them each on the cheek, Meira, and then Dean. “I hope you find your father.” She says to Dean, who sobers at that, and then Sam and Ben amble over and Haley guides Ben off to go to the hospital with their brother.
“You going to be alright getting home?” Dean asks, startling Meira out of watching the little family leave in the ambulance.
Meira winces, trying not to think too hard about exactly how far away from home she really is. Dean catches it and raises his eyebrows at her. Over his shoulder, Sam is frowning in concern. “Don’t really have one of those anymore.” She admits quietly, since it’s mostly true. She’s just muddling her tenses a little bit. She swallows and glances sideways at Dean. “Mind if I hitch a ride with you guys?”
Dean glances back at Sam, who shrugs. “Sure.” Dean says, a little uncertainly. “I guess.”
Relief makes Meira’s shoulders slump. “Thanks.”
“You really don’t have anywhere to go, huh?” Sam asks, sounding sympathetic.
Meira gives a slightly bitter laugh at that. “No, I don’t. It’s… it’s all gone.” She raises her arms a little in indication. “This is everything I have right now.”
“Shit.” Dean breathes. “What happened?”
“What always happens to hunters.” Meira hedges, tucking her hands into her pockets and hunching into her coat uncomfortably. It’s not even entirely a lie. “They missed one, and it came back to bite them.”
“Well, you can stick with us for a while.” Sam offers.
“Thanks. I don’t mind helping you look for your dad for a while as repayment.” Meira replies, and they both nod their acceptance. Then Dean tips his head towards the Impala, and Meira goes, aware of the pair of them following along behind her.
She’s pretty sure she’s not really meant to hear it when Dean says, in an undertone. “Sam, you know we’re going to find Dad, right?”
“Yeah, I know.” Sam agrees heavily. “But in the meantime… I’m driving.”
There’s a long pause, long enough for Meira to reach the back door of the Impala and turn to look at them. She’s just in time to see Dean flip the keys across to Sam, and she ducks her head on a smile. As long as she’s stuck here in the past, this is exactly where she wants to be; with her family.
#Supernatural#time travel#next generation#original character#supernatural retelling#Dean Winchester#Sam Winchester#SPN 1x02#Wendigo#Meira Winchester#I feel like I ought to say something here#but all I'm coming up with are apologies#and that's not what this is about damn it#Dean/Cas/Gabe#Destiel#Debriel#Cabriel#someone really needs to tell me what the ship name for this ot3 is#be gentle with me#I'm stupidly self conscious about this one#Trapped In The Amber
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