#about: Jack W.

[collectingmuses]

A/N: In which I was inspired and wrote a drabble about Jack's complicated situationship with his vampire frenemy.

“I am a patient boy...I wait, I wait, I wait, I wait.” Fugazi played from the car radio as Jack West found himself murmuring along to the lyrics, amused at how it mirrored his vigil. He sighed to himself, currently sprawled on top of the hood of his beaten up sedan, his back leaning against its cracked front window, lounging lazily with his legs crossed. “My time, water down the drain.”

The sun was setting, its orange hues giving the wrecking yard a hazy glow as it continued its descent, barely peeking out now over the mountains of scrap and rusted metal. Jack’s own car felt right at home here among the junkers. It wouldn’t be long now before he’d have to seek out a new vehicle, his current on its last legs. That was a problem for later, however. At the moment, his attention was laser focused on the car several feet before him, pristine and cherry, out of place here in the automotive graveyard.

The muscle car was sleek, black, mean. A Plymouth Barracuda, its windows tinted so dark you could press your face right up against them and still not make out the interior. Jack didn’t need to do that, he already knew what was waiting inside for him. The scattergun was enough to give him peace of mind.

“C’mon, Sid.” he said. The sun was nearly down now, but goddamn if the wait wasn’t a killer. “I ain’t got all night.”

Sid certainly did, however. Jack wondered to himself how this was going to play out. Would Sid play nice? Probably not. Whatever their relationship might’ve been once upon a time had changed, now, forever and irrevocably ever since their escape. They each had their own paths to follow, their own demons to battle, their own outlook on their gifts and curse. More often than not they’d find themselves crossing paths again and again and again, forever connected, yet doomed to always clash. This night would be no different, he thought.

Jack had rolled into town a little before dawn, following a lead on his never ending hunt. He’d seen it before, too many times in fact; every house empty, every building ghosted, not a single person (alive or dead) to be found. He was too late, again. Some hero he was, Huh? Some great avenger...couldn’t even keep a hick town with a population of one hundred safe. Just another failure to keep him awake at night.

He reached down and made a grab for the shotgun, hands coiling tight around the pump, pushing the thoughts aside as the last of the suns warm glow dipped down beyond the horizon. Sid would be waking up any moment now...

Click.

The Barracuda’s locks disengaged. Hell, Sid was probably awake this whole time, watching him as he watched them. Jack could have played it safer...could have waltzed over and busted out a window, ripped open the door...but that’d surely earn him a fight, and knowing Sid they probably had the car fitted with all kinds of tricks and traps rigged up to deter such actions. He slid off the hood, ducking into the open window of his beater to reach for the console and flick on the headlights. Yellow beams flooded the dusk, illuminating the monster of car before him. Another click and the Baracuda’s driver side door creaked open.

“Jack, Jack, Jack the Ripper.” a husky voice echoed out from somewhere inside of the cabin. He winced at that much hated nickname. Long pale fingers, adorned with skull rings and cheap jewelry, gripped the edge of the car door one by one. The tips ended in pointed talons that clicked against the blackened glass. A heavy combat boot thumped out onto the gravel lot, heel grinding into the rocks as it’s owner put down their full weight and stepped out into the cool October night air.

“Sidney.” he replied, keeping a tight hold on the gun. He didn’t raise it, not yet, but every muscle in his body was coiled and ready. “Been a busy girl, haven’t you?”

A laugh, that laugh, that damn laugh. It was so hollow, so inhuman, so different from how it used to be, back when they had first met...the warmth was gone from it now, its chill a reminder of another friend he couldn’t save. Sid leaned over the top of the door, her long arms dangled lazily, her leather jacket was cracked and frayed with age and disrepair, held together with band patches and safety pins. A wide grin split across her black painted lips, revealing a mouth full of razor sharp teeth...teeth that Jack had found himself on the business end of more times than he’d care to remember. Her hair was short, shaggy and wild, a mop of ruby red that stood in stark contrast to her deathly pale pallor.

“Who? Me?” Sid pouted, suddenly slamming the door shut before taking a step in his direction. “Dunno what you’re talkin’ about. I’ve been on my absolute best behavi-”

Ch-chk. Jack racked the shotgun and leveled it off at the vampire’s head. Sid paused, that razor blade smirk of hers never faltering.

“Mhh...don’t threaten me with a good time, dead boy.” she teased, an edge to her tone that did not go unnoticed by Jack. “I still owe you one from the last time we met, remember? I sure as hell do.”

“You started that fight.” he reminded her, steady with his aim. “I ended it.”

“Matter of perspective.” Predatory eyes glanced down to the tip of the barrel before flicking their gaze back up to meet West’s. “Silver mixed in with the gunpowder?”

“Yup.” he lied. Silver was expensive, and he didn’t want to waste it on Sidney. At least, that’s what he told himself. “You fed recently?”

“No.” her smirk finally faded.

“Drove through a ghost town, Sidney.” he said. “Not a single soul around...but here you are. Spotted that car of yours from the road. Ain’t very inconspicuous, you know that?”

Sid clicked her tongue, a low growl rumbling in her throat that soon melted into a bored sigh. The night was just starting and she was anxious to end this conversation.

“You know me, I like to turn heads. You think I did it?” she scoffed. “Flattered....but that’s a bit ambitious, even for me, babe. Besides, when have you known me to be so...neat.”

She had a point. No bodies, no blood, no signs of struggle, and no way Sid would run roughshod over an entire town by her lonesome.

“Then what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Was hungry.” she admitted. “Like you said, it’s a fuckin’ ghost town. Couldn’t find a meal so I decided to bunk down and sleep, try the next town over come night...but maybe I won’t have to do that now that you’re here.” Her grin returned, pushing forward slowly, cautiously, testing him.

“I don’t have time for your bullshit, Sid.” Jack replied, gesturing the gun forward a bit, really trying to convey he’d unload on her if she kept it up.

“That ain’t silver, Jackie.” she purred, another step. “We both know that. No stakes, no garlic...you’re too much of a softie.”

“Do. Not.” he warned. She had him read like a book and he hated it how easily it came for her. It was a two way street, though. Sid never took it easy on him, but never had the heart to outright end it. The fighting, the blood, the claws and teeth and bullets and knives and scars...it was their dance. Twisted as it was, buried deep down, that affection for one another was still there somewhere. Once upon a time they were all one another had. In some fucked up way, that still held true.

“Jaaaaack.” she cooed, closer now, methodical and steady. A cat toying with a mouse just before it pounced. “C’mere, Lemme show you...just...how much...I missed....you.”

She lunged, quick as lightning, a flash of teeth and talons and hell on two legs.

Jack was faster. He squeezed the trigger and was rewarded with a thunderous BOOM. Buckshot slammed into Sid, ripping into her chest, flinging her back and off her feet, tumbling head over heels along the gravel. Her body rolled, sliding to a stop ungracefully just short of the front bumper of her car.

“Goddamn it, Sid!” Jack cursed, pumping the shotgun to chamber the next round. He aimed at the crumpled, unmoving heap. “You’re such a dick!”

All was still, all was silent. Seconds stretched on into what felt like eternity until...

GASP

Sid inhaled a long and sharp breath. She twitched, groaned, flopped over onto her back. Her chest was a mangled mess of red and ragged pulsating pulp. Her head turned, cheek to the rocky ground, to face the the monster hunter. Sid was dazed, but there was no mistaking that dull fire in her eyes...oh, she was pissed.

“Me? You fucked up my jacket, asshole.” she groaned, the wounds already knitting themselves back together. Perks of being undead. Jack took a tentative step backwards, ready for the fury to follow. Sid’s pale hand slammed down on the hood of the Baracuda as she struggled back up onto unsteady legs. Her strength was returning, slowly but surely. She’d make another go of it, Jack was certain. She was always stubborn like that.

“Are we seriously doing this right now?” he asked, finger on the trigger.

“Oh, fuckin’ A we’re doin’ this right fucking now.” she hissed, her face a mask of hunger, pain and rage. Sidney’s features morphed, letting slip that mask of humanity further, giving her dear old a friend a peek of the beast beneath. Bony features accentuated just how bat-like and monstrous she looked, transforming before his very eyes.

He’d seen it before.

Jack was unimpressed. You see one grotesque creature of the night, you’ve seen them all.

“Tell you what. Why don’t you come over here, I’ll kiss it and make it better.” he teased, gesturing with the shotgun. Sid screeched.

“I’m gonna rip your fucking head off and suck you dry.” Sid’s voice was a guttural snarl of a loathsome creature trying it’s hardest to mimic what a human should sound like.

Jack smirked.

“Oh, honey, don’t threaten me with a good time.” he winked, repeating her earlier taunt. Sid closed the distance, leaping at the punk. Jack wasn’t quick enough this time, felt the vampire’s claws tear into his shoulders, felt her hot breath on his neck just as he managed to bring the barrel of the boomstick up and press it against her stomach. His finger tightened around the trigger. Sid’s teeth ripped into his throat, filling her maw with warm crimson.

BOOM.

Their dance continued, as it always had.

As it always would.

Jack was the first awake. His entire body felt like it was on fire, everything hurt. Everything. His hand traveled up to touch his neck, coming away slick and red. There was so much blood, he was drenched in it and it had him feeling like Carrie on prom night. Despite the mess, Jack had nary a wound to show for it. God, how he ached, though. Being able to heal from almost anything was cool, until you factored in pain is still something you have to contend with. He needed a hot shower, he needed new clothes, he needed a fucking drink.

First though? He needed to check on Sid.

“You alive, dickhead?” he glanced over at the crumpled form beside him. Sid was no worse for wear, equally covered head to toe in gore and viscera, but not showing a single injury from their battle. She didn’t answer, but she made a soft mumbling noise that was just as good as a “yes” for Jack. He managed to pull himself to his feet, heavily leaning against the hood of his car. The headlights were still on, though much dimmer than before. Music still played from the radio.

“The weirdness flows between us. Anyone can tell to see us. Freak scene just can't believe us...” Jack closed his eyes, waiting for his pounding head to settle, focusing on the Dinosaur Jr. coming from his speakers. Finally opening them, he looked to the sky.

“Christ, we were out all night...” he mumbled, realizing the sun would be rising soon. With a sigh he pushed off, stumbling his way over to the vampire.

“Sid.” he mumbled, gently nudging her with the tip of his boot. “Sid, get up.”

“Mmh..” she groaned, still out of it.

“Sid, the sun’s comin’ up.”

No reply. Jack sighed. Of course.

“You’re not gonna make this easy are you?” Jack didn’t bother waiting for an answer, he knew he wouldn’t get one. He leaned down and grabbed her, every sore muscle of his still healing body screaming at him as he hoisted her up and over his shoulder.

“Jesus, you’re heavier than you look.” he mumbled.

“Mmh...fuck you...” Sid grumbled in response.

“Oh, now you can hear me?” He carried her to the muscle car, one arm keeping her perched on his shoulder, the other pulling open the door to the backseat. Jack ducked inside and laid Sid down on the cushions, surprisingly gentle with her. She had this thing kitted out, her roaming home, her tinted windows dark enough to keep her protected from the UV rays. He started to pull away when Jack felt Sid’s cold hand grip around his wrist to stop him.

“Stay.” her voice was small, weary...so different from the apex predator that was taunting him before. Jack felt like he was hearing the Sidney he used to know. The real Sid. The vampire peered at him, her eyes an eerie yellow glow in the darkness. Jack frowned.

“I gotta...I gotta go, Sid.” he whispered softly. “I gotta keep moving an-”

“West...Just...for a little while.” she pleaded. Just like that he, he felt like they were back at Maxell’s clinic. Just the two of them, two freaks locked away who found solace in each other. He groaned, shoulders slumping in defeat. She was right about him....he was a softie.

“Sometimes I don't thrill you. Sometimes I think I'll kill you. Just don't let me fuck up will you? 'cause when I need a friend it's still you.”

“For...a little while.” he agreed, taking one last glance back at the early dawn sky. He climbed into the backseat with Sid, closing the door behind them. Silently he laid down on the floor beside her as she curled up to sleep on the seat. He felt her pale hand reach down in the darkness, blindly searching for his. Jack grasped it. He linked their fingers together, and drifted off.

“What a mess.”

[collectingusfw]

Cassie: "Watch my back."

Colt/Casey/Cole/Jack/Johnny: "Ok."

[starstruckodysseys]

i’m just saying none of those guys are cishet. except maybe usha who invented allyship actually

[soullessjack]

your idea of domestic tfw2.0 is a gated community gay couple with an estranged/absent uncle. my idea of domestic tfw2.0 is sam banning violent video games in the bunker because jack keeps trying to do MK fatalities on monsters when they go hunting and dean won’t stop doing the narrator voice to encourage it. We are not the same

[claraoswalds]

#mrs flood who are you: time lord edition

[pencilnewt]

the hughes bros’ adventures in ikea!

inspiration:

[fentoaster]

Ectoberhaunt Day 18: Unravel

Jack sat at his dining table, feeling pleased with his new invention. He scanned the room, waving around his prototype Fenton Ghoul-Glass, searching for spectral activity (albeit not expecting much.)

Danny walked into the kitchen, sending his dad a questioning glance. Jack beamed at him, launching right into an explanation.

As he pointed the glass to look at Danny, though, the words died in his throat.

For where his son should have been, stood the Phantom of Amity Park.

[errorkey]

so guess who's never getting over what jack says here!

it's a line that's devastating on it's own. it's heartbreaking, because jack feels so terribly betrayed by joke all over again, even though all joke was trying to do is save him.

but it's not just that. it's worse, because that's what the whole show's been about this entire time.

in english, the title we've been given is "Jack & Joker: U Steal My Heart!" which is the most darling, lighthearted little play on words ever.

but the thai title? it's "Jack & Joker: ทำไมต้องเป็นเธอทุกที," which (according to MyDramaList) translates to "Jack & Joker: Why Does it Always Have to Be You?"

and isn't that exactly what jack's asking now? of everything that had to happen, of everyone that is to blame, why does have to be joke that is at fault again?

from the beginning, this entire show was meant to be about how it's almost inevitable that these two will hurt each other in some way or another. their lives have been entwined since that first moment 5 years ago, and regardless of whose fault it is, both of them are bound to be hurt because of just how much they want to save each other. ultimately, jack and joke are – quite literally – doomed by the narrative that they're in.

and all they can do is find a way to break this cycle that viciously dictates their lives – both in the world they're in and in the grand scheme of the show itself.

[neptunebeetle]

I never got to post these but I'm gonna start sharing this a lot more. Crp au designs babyyyyyyy

[pondslime]

JACK KLUGMAN as JUROR 5 (1/2) 12 ANGRY MEN (1957) dir. Sidney Lumet

[collectingmuses]

What is the origin of their personality? And let's be honest - how much of it is projecting?

-> JACK WEST

Jack's origin is me getting tired of all the punk/alt characters in 80s and 90s horror movies either 1) Dying 2) Being portrayed as bad guys/bullies or 3) both.

Personality wise I wanted him also to be the opposite of the stereotypical portrayal of punks in media. He's very outgoing and energetic and friendly and wants to help!!! For projecting, I DUNNO I always put a little bit of myself in my characters. I think Jack's mostly representing my love of horror and slasher movies and the punk subculture lol.

[caput-medusae]

one of the most hilarious social media tumblr v reddit culture shock things was redditors complaining that the jack lowden sauron from the beginning of ep 2x1 wasn’t armored up or eleven feet tall, and the tumblr girlies delightedly freaking out because ginger twink mairon was real

[razzafrazzle]

a full design overhaul for chela + my sketches for her while i was figuring her out bc i like em :o]

[image description: the first image is a reference image of an original character named chela, who is a lanky pale-skinned humanoid woman with a teal scorpion tail, buzzed teal hair, a wide smile, and opaque teal glasses that cover her eyes. she is wearing a long, asymmetric teal, black, and purple trench coat, a purple ascot, purple boots, and a black and purple hat. next to her is a small headshot of her without her glasses, where she has teal, purple, and yellow spiral eyes. there is also a small drawing of her with her coat off and with an extra set of arms, which have claws instead of hands. above that are blurbs that state that she is 41, that her pronouns are she/any, that she is a lesbian of uncertain gender, and the following: "shapeshifter who uses her abilities to cause as much chaos as possible, just because she can. the venom in her stinger is a powerful hallucinogen. absent mother of sparkle. has little regard for the feelings of others. speaks in strange mid-century slang for some reason. her clothes are technically flesh. don't think about it too hard." the second image is a page of concept sketches showing chela in various poses, including her sprouting extra arms and scuttling on the ground on all fours, as well as pictures used as inspiration, such as the main character of the mask, scaramouche from samurai jack, and an image of a scorpion under a blacklight. end id]

[mysterycitrus]

modern dc comics could be fixed if tim drake got to cheat again

[hajihiko]

I might do a lil talky tuwednesday later.... been a while and im in a mood

[midoristeashop]

Mending my sins and finally catching up with lights of Avalon!!!1!! @alkalinefrog

I swear kai your characterization of everyone is so perfect and charming UGH it’s like falling in love with them all over again

Huge special shoutout to @bignostalgias for being the bulk of the inspo for their designs! Hic, jack, jame, and em designs are next <3