spoilers... sort of



I’ve been sort of working with the British Men of Letters.

Aside from an edge of defiance, the words lack emotion. They hit Dean like a slap. He tries not to show how much they hurt. Another day, another betrayal, what else is new? And as she tries to explain, to justify, he looks right at Sam. Sees the pain his brother can’t hide. He moves closer to him, pulled by a bone-deep instinct to protect. 

When Dad disappeared, Sam and I looked around, and something became very clear. That the only thing we had in this world – the only thing, aside from this car – was each other.

His own words bounce around his head. He’d been stupid to think this time would be any different. Now his mom is talking about family. Family comes first, the party line. Bullshit. People always claiming they’re family then stabbing them in the back. Or, hell, right in the face. So family? Is Sam. 

12x13 Coda - Sam’s Revenge

Ok, this is kind of an anger fueled coda.  My own teeth were clenched as I wrote it.  This was written quickly, so apologies for grammatical errors.  Scene happens moments after Mary revealed she was working with the BMoL.  After Sam mentions his torture and she doesn’t seem to care - anyway, short fic about how Sam and Dean react. Feedback appreciated :)

“Wow.  Just…wow.”  Sam’s eyebrows went up and he rubbed his palm on the back of his neck.  “Thanks, mom. Just….you know what? No.  Just, no.”  Sam stood up and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair.  He strode over to the staircase and began climbing.

“Sam, wait, I…” Mary began. Sam stopped on the stairs, about halfway up.

“I’m not going to wait, Mary.” said Sam, his voice trembling.  “I’m done.”  He continued climbing the staircase.  Mary took a step back, stunned by Sam’s words.

“Sam.” Dean called out to his brother in a soft, calm voice. “Sammy?”

“Not now, Dean.”  Sam didn’t look back at his brother.  He opened the bunker door and walked out.

“Well, that’s just fan-friggin-tastic,” said Dean.

“Dean, I can explain, really, “ began Mary.  

Dean turned on his mother. “Oh really?  Can you now? You’re working with people who fucking tortured Sam!  They cut him, burned, him, broke his bones.  They manipulated his mind, drugged him, left him to suffer!  And you think that just because he’s back and alive, that it’s no big deal?  That all is forgiven?”  Dean continued, walking towards his mother, unafraid to back down.  He emphasized each of his words harshly and clearly, pointing his finger at her at every step.  Mary backed up a few steps, unsure of what Dean was going to do next.

“Well, I…”

“No, mom, shut up!” Dean waved his hand in the air, barely missing the lamp next to him. You made a bad choice here, I’m telling you. Sam might be alive, but he is NOT over it.”  Dean stormed off, taking the stairs two at a time to go after his brother.  When he reached the top of the stairs he paused, not turning around.

“It might be a good idea to be somewhere else by the time I get back.”  Dean said angrily, and left the bunker, closing the door behind him.

It took over an hour, but Dean finally found Sam.  He was sitting on a bench about a mile away.  He was looking down at the ground, and did not look up when Dean sat next to him.

“Hey Sam,”  Dean put his hand on Sam’s knee.

“You really are the only one who cares, Dean. My own mother is working with those people who – who tortured me!”  Sam’s voice was low and filled with sadness.  

“Sammy,” Dean began, but Sam interrupted him.

“Dean.  I never knew mom.  I’ve been given a chance to have her be a part of my life.  I couldn’t believe it when she first got here.  But now,” he paused and took a deep breath, “now I wish she had never come back.   You were right, you know.  Something was off about her.  I should have listened.”

Dean didn’t know how to respond. Sam was right.  It hurt him to hear what his little brother was saying.  And it pissed him off that yet someone else was going to hurt him. Hurt both of them.  Even worse - his own mother, who didn’t seem to care that her son had suffered at the hands of these people.

“What are we going to do now, Dean?” Sam raised his head and looked at his brother.  There was sadness in his eyes, but he had not been crying. Dean didn’t have time to respond to his brother’s question.

In the next instant, Sam’s expression changed.  His eyes went from fearful to enraged.  He clenched his fists tightly together and gritted his teeth, quickly becoming angry. He stood up, and his hands started to shake.

“Sam?”  Dean stood up next to his brother, reaching out to him, and softly grabbed his arm.  “You ok there?”

Sam took a few deep breaths.

“I’m going to go find Arthur Ketch.” Said Sam through clenched teeth.

“And I’m going to fucking kill him.”

And before Dean could react, Sam had taken off into the dark night.  He had a score to settle.

In honor of Fantastic Beasts, here are the signs as Magical Creatures!

Aries: Graphorn.  The finisher. Do not start a fight with them, they will not take your shit for a moment.  Super hard to actually hurt their feelings, but will totally fight you on principle. You will not win.

Taurus: Erumpent.  The detonator.  Seems scarier than they are, really loves making new friends. Usually super chill, but if you piss them off they will push exactly the right buttons to make you self destruct.

Gemini: Bowtruckle. The debater.  Gets really attached to places and people, not so great with paradigm shifts. Can talk people into and out of ideas.  117% confused by physical fights.

Cancer: Mooncalf.  The space case. They are the gentlest creatures you will ever meet, and super shy unless with a group. Great love of plants.  Low-key conspiracy nut, probably believes (or wants to believe) in aliens.

Leo: Niffler.  The hoarder. Just wants pretty things, why can’t they have pretty things? Has a hard time letting go of the past.  Socially independent but still really cares what you think of them.

Virgo: Occamy.  The adapter. Will invade your life if you let them, but when boundaries are set they will be 100% respected.  Has a hard time denying their cravings (for food or otherwise).

Libra: Diricawl. The anti-drama. Will violently nope out of any situation they don’t like.  Good judge of danger, so if they leave suddenly you should really follow. Just wants world peace and a nap.

Scorpio: Nundu. The untameable. Impossible to control against their will, all you can do is hope that they decide they like you.  Legends are told of their ferocity and violence but they are, in fact, big fucking kittens.

Sagittarius: Billywig.  The observer. Really wants to know everyone’s business but does not want to get involved. Always good for a laugh, loves making people happy.  Most likely to pull really baffling pranks.

Capricorn: Demiguise. The babysitter.  Will keep your dumb ass alive while you sort out your train wreck of a life.  Sees all your mistakes coming a mile away, and either fixes your life or elegantly side-steps all of it.  

Aquarius: Swooping Evil. The brutally loyal.  Will fuck up your shit if you insult their friends, only backs down when their friends stop them.  The one to call when you need to forget your troubles.

Pisces: Murtlap.  The trainer. Knows the dangers of the world and wants to toughen you up, sometimes goes about it in the wrong way but somehow still ends up helping. 90% zen beach hippie, 10% pissed badger.

Okay so I’m sure someone else has already pointed this out, so I’m sorry if I’m late to this realization but in the original Arthur Conan Doyle stories, one of the stories is called “The Adventure of the Sussex Vampire.” 

In the story, a man writes to Sherlock worried that his second wife (and mother of his youngest child) is sucking their baby son’s blood; thus believing she may be a ‘vampire.’ However it turns out that instead the man’s eldest son from his first marriage is actually behind the marks that have been appearing on the baby.

The boy was attempting to use poisonous darts on the baby, and the boy’s stepmother knew and had been trying to suck the poison out from the wounds. This poison the boy was using was initially tested out on the family dog.

Now, in BBC Sherlock, when John was texting who we now know to be “Eurus” who was going by “E,” John texted her and asked her if she was a night owl, to which she replied “vampire.” She clearly doesn’t seem to be a very nice person, now yet is a supposed sibling to Sherlock; and we all know Sherlock loved his childhood dog…

I don’t really know if there’s anything to be made of all of this, but it felt like something worth mentioning! Food for thought!

Strongest Stars

I have been imagining this scenario since I saw Rogue One. Once I saw this post confirming that Chirrut and Baze are old enough for this to have happened, I had to write it. 

Spoilers? Sort of?

“Master, not again,” sighed the young man. It was a refrain of concentrated exasperation. Unfortunately, the words had lost their meaning long ago.

“That sandstorm will be here within the hour, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon stomped up the slope, sand whipping at his robes. His long brown hair caught on his nose as he turned to look at his padawan. “If you have a better idea, please, tell me.”

Obi-Wan glowered up at him, mouth twisted into a grimace. He actually paused for several moments, wracking his brain for an alternative. Eventually, he sighed. Qui-Gon turned back around and resumed marching, and Obi-Wan trudged fast to catch up. The apprentice squinted into the blinding horizon, and then up at the massive sandstone statues flanking the entrance into the grand temple. “It doesn’t make any sense,” he said.

“What doesn’t make sense?” Qui-Gon asked, not turning around.

“Why should they have Jedi here?” Obi-Wan motioned to the cloaked, saber-wielding stone sentinels. “They aren’t Jedi.”

Qui-Gon turned and gave him a reprimanding look. “They are our brothers and sisters, Obi-Wan,”

“They’re heretics,” the padawan insisted.

“They are children of the Force, as are we,” said the master as though to a child, “And their Order is far older than ours; if anything, it is we who are heretics to the ancient orthodoxy.”

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