#but the vision had me on a headlock right after i watched the clip and hey ain't that exactly what happens to tales like this <;< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[pad-paper-pen]

"... The Croon was worshipped as she pranced among trees, towering castles kings claimed to be prevailing..."

— 🌾 🪕

an artistic interpretation based of a mere part of an introduction to a story I've been longing to hear since i first learned its name.

while it may regard the task of telling every tale to high regard, it appears there's a reason that what is true falls under another Harker's domain... 🪵

[evansfm]

she’d forgotten just how much she LOVED it : the deafening sound of a crowd to her right and a live band to her left . everything fell away the moment the house lights went dark and the stage lit up ; her view of the world was distorted through a camera lens , and her trigger finger was fast on the shutter button . she’d been told before , time and time again , that photography was something ANYONE could do . . . point , shoot , move on to the next . but years of experience taught her it was more than that . to be the best behind a camera , you had to know PEOPLE . . . you had to recognize minute moments of pure , unfiltered human emotion and grab them before they disappeared forever . and evan was the BEST with a camera in hand , something she was still trying to convince herself of . 

self - doubt was buried deep when she was in the moment , though , focused on her surroundings . live music was the closest thing humanity had to MAGIC , she thought , the way it could bring strangers together in intimacy . . . the way it could make you feel like you were floating if only for a couple of hours . she did her best to translate that into her photographs , but the artists she worked with always made it EASY . they loved their work as much as the fans in the crowd did , and it was evident in the way she watched every musician she’d had the pleasure of working with pour everything into every performance . saint valentine was no different , no matter how BIG they’d gotten over the past several years . 

and they were big . the o2 was the biggest venue evan had ever shot in , and though she’d been the only one backstage , it seemed she wasn’t the only one in the pit , trying to get that coveted money shot of nicky haven at the mic . he was notoriously UNFRIENDLY with cameras , never a fan of being in front of them or having them in his face while performing . it was precisely why evan arrived early that day , camera bag zipped up and tucked away . for the first few hours , she just hung out with the four of them , getting to know them and letting them get to know her . by the time they reconvened in a side room set up with evan’s photo gear , she knew to have nicky’s younger brother –– a roadie that tagged along on all of their tours –– nearby . she knew that their drummer –– with her long , black hair and dazzling smile –– was the only one who could get a laugh out of him . that he was a bit sweet on her . she knew that he looked at his band like family and that he hardly trusted anyone else . 

so she cleared the room . 

it was like that with all four of them ; she’d spent the morning getting to know them , the afternoon shooting what she now knew to be the cover for their next single , and the evening doing what she knew best . she carved out a space for herself in their lives , if only for the night , and made it so hardly anybody noticed when she lifted the camera to her eyes . backstage , then on stage , then in the crowd . photographing live music like riding a bike , because she never forgot how to do it , and she’d only gotten better as time went on . . . evident in the way they’d CHOSEN her to document their first ever sold out arena .

it was unlike anything she’d ever experienced from a creative point of view . occasionally she’d find herself at shows this big , mostly when she was younger –– beck had always been a big fan of mumford & sons , something evan still quietly carried with her . but back then she was one of thousands , a face in the crowd that kept watch on her brother , rarely so unabashedly joyful . being there on the job , though , was completely different . . . having the means to wander where she pleased , slipping effortlessly through an electric crowd , shooting from the shadows of a stage bigger than she imagined . it reminded her of why she picked up a camera in the first place , pausing magic moments in time and turning them into tangible things to be kept forever . 

even more , though , it put her world –– her life in london –– into perspective . moving through concrete halls of the arena as it emptied , making her way backstage , she flipped through some of the raw images she’d gotten in the last couple of hours . her feet felt light , and her stomach was alight with fluttering from excitement . this was what she was BEST at . this was what made her heart feel full . the thought of her desk back at nme , the all-staff meetings and assignments with restrictions or specifications . . . it looked a lot more like what she was SUPPOSED to want . it was logical , working with the safety net of a publication . it felt like a step backwards , a step towards the life she was building in galway , before everything wonderful about manchester happened . 

“ admit it , ” evan peeked up from her camera screen –– beaming –– to see all four members of saint valentine as they lingered outside of the packed green room . nicky had his arm flung around his younger brother , and a crooked smile pasted on his lips , “ that was unlike anything you’ve ever seen before , right ? ”

“ consider me minorly impressed , ” evan said , tucking her dslr back into her bag . her hands instinctively cradled the film camera around her neck .

“ more like majorly . ”

“ are all american musicians t’is sure of themselves ? ”

“ no , ” lindsey , their lead guitarist named after fleetwood mac’s very own –– and certainly living up to it –– ruffled his shaggy hair with a towel , “ nicholas here just has a massive ego to compensate for other shortcomings . ”

an unintelligible grumble sounded from the taller boy , lost in the scuffle of nicky trapping him in a headlock and dragging them into the green room . spencer , their bassist , now back in his wire-framed glasses groaned and followed the both of them , uttering weak words of protest . only izzy hung back , beautiful black hair damp from a hard night’s work and finally pulled back into a long ponytail . evan wondered a few times how she managed to keep her vision clear on stage . she flashed a dazzling smile after the three of them , then turned back to evan .

“ dudes , am i right ? ”

evan’s gaze shifted from her to trail after the three of them , jostling each other about as people began to swarm for congratulations . despite the lightness in her chest , there was something small missing . . . an ounce of longing gripping at her stomach –– she missed all four of them .

“ absolutely ridiculous , ” she laughed before her gaze shifted back to izzy , “ you , miss , could out-drum just about ANY of t’e musicians i’ve worked wit’ . absolutely killer . ”

“ don’t flirt with me when i have no chance , connely , ” deep brown eyes sparkled in jest as she added , “ i know kiv o’niell’s got first dibs . ” shared laughter filled the hallway , “ you coming in ? we’d love to have you . ”

“ um , ” evan turned once more , peering into a hectic , happy room . a smile settled on her lips , “ i’ve actually got plans , but tomorrow ! i’ll stick around after tomorrow . ”

izzy studied her for a moment , giving a slow nod and an understanding smile , “ he’s in boston , right ? ”

“ not yet , ” evan sighed , not bothering to ask how she knew . she was sure she’d slipped it into conversation at some point that day , “ toronto . t’ey play boston in a couple days . reckon i can catch him in between press rounds if i time it right . ”

“ well , go on . we’ll see you tomorrow . bring that magical little machine with you , too . ”

“ you got it , ” evan lifted two fingers to her temple in a small salute , not needing to be told twice . her feet were moving before she’d even finished .

maybe it was the confetti fluttering about in her stomach . maybe it was the realization that perhaps nme wasn’t the dream she thought it was . maybe it was the sight of three boys jostling each other around after a good show . her only instinct , her only real thought , was to call kieran . to tell him all about how she’d gotten an infamous trouble maker to open up , how her photographs would be used as cover art for a stand alone single , how nothing quite compared to being in the thick of a live show . . . and how 20,000 people with a band she didn’t truly know couldn’t hold a candle to THE FOUND in berlin . . . let alone the found later in their career . it could’ve been the endorphins , the adrenaline , but evan felt certain in what otherwise seemed like a whim : being confined to a desk wasn’t it for her . she didn’t know what came next . . . leaving nme or locking down her own studio or heading out on tour with another band , but she knew she wanted to tell him . she was happier than she’d been in WEEKS , and the only missing piece was kieran .

even if things hadn’t been picture perfect with them lately . distance was easy when they were just an easy drive away from each other , but with an ocean , a tour , and ever changing time zones working against them things had been . . .  more difficult than what they were used to . evan tried to chalk it up to overthinking when she felt a hollowness in her chest after he missed a call . . . or worse , after her mentions flooded with a girl she wanted nothing to do with . she’d been familiar with the nastier side of the internet for a long time , if only because of her proximity to four boys rising to fame , but after she and kieran made it clear to EVERYONE that they were far more than friends , things had only gotten worse . it was easy to ignore before bex . easier to brush away as though it were nothing but a nameless , faceless few who put their opinion where it didn’t belong . but now , with evan in london and kieran ( and bex ) in the states . . . things were BRUTAL . especially as more and more usernames tied to the found’s opening act wandered into her tags or her mentions . she’d kept it to herself , for the most part , knowing that he couldn’t really do anything to change it . . . but it wasn’t like bex , herself , was helping . she couldn’t help the occasional curiosity that came when she couldn’t sleep , only to find a clip from bex’s story , fawning over kieran the way she had shamelessly back in manchester as evan was standing right there . 

she learned quickly to monitor her time on social media ; these days she mostly only used it when work required it of her . the last thing she needed was an array of new tagged posts on instagram , all having nothing to do with her and everything to do with her boyfriend . she’d known for some time about the rumors , and since stumbling across them she’d tried her best to tune them out . it did nothing to soothe the things she’d been actively working to unlearn over the last several months . the things her father , who left his entire family for another one , left behind . the things a boy , who she’d thought would be her first love despite his constant need to make her feel inadequate , left behind . kieran walsh was everything those men could never be . . . but it was easy to let the mind run wild when he was thousands of miles away .

even with the recent distance –– with the missed calls and miscommunications –– she still ached with missing him . she still wanted nothing more than to tell him about the night she’d just had , the one he’d been SO SURE would go well . she wanted to tell him that he was right . . . and that maybe she’d leave her desk behind to start something new . so she moved quickly from the empty bowels of the arena to the crowded lobby areas , smiling at but aptly dodging anyone who recognized her by CHANCE , kieran walsh’s girlfriend . she poured out into the parking lot with the rest of them , and only when she was exhaling as she flopped into the driver’s seat of her car did she pull out her phone . 

‘ hey , checking in with you babes . are you alright ? do you need me to come over ? ’ isla’s message sat at the top of a mountain of notifications , every single one from her work email address . . . and her personal .

‘ COMMENT REQUESTED ’

evan’s brow furrowed as she typed back to isla : ‘ great actually ???? why ’

but the answer to that question was tucked away in the emails flooding her inboxes . over a dozen emails from over a dozen different publications were reaching out , hoping for her thoughts on an article linked at the very end of each .

she’d been walking a tightrope over the past few weeks , balancing in the breezes that tried to sway her off center . work . distance . arguments . rumors . however all of it was stuff she could handle , for the most part . . . this , though , was like someone took a pair of scissors and snipped the rope as she was standing in the center of it .

‘ ‘I DON’T KISS AND TELL : Bex & The Found’s Kieran Walsh Confirm Rumors are True ’

it was nothing she hadn’t seen before .

" Rumors have circulated all over the internet throughout The Found’s wildly successful North American tour, and for weeks all we’ve gotten were vague answers from Bex and silence from Kieran . This past Saturday , however , it seems the pair –– speculated to be growing intimately closer over the course of tour thanks to Bex’s ever present social media presence –– finally decided to make it known outside of their inner circle . . . those rumors may not have been rumors after all . Summer in Toronto is warm , but these two were hot (and heavy?) outside of Everleigh . . . ”

and then her vision began to blur as a photograph came into view . she blinked , turned up the brightness on her phone , and held it closer as she stared and searched for some sort of flaw in the composition . . . a tell tale sign of photoshop , a detail that proved it only LOOKED like them , but wasn’t . . . 

but she found nothing . only bex and kieran swept up in each other’s arms in an intimate looking moment , a moment no one was meant to see . the telephoto lens caught her smile perfectly , beautiful as ever as hooded eyes looked over at kieran . what’s worse was . . . it looked like he was smiling too . wrapped up in each other the first photo , walking away from the club’s exit together in the second . 

nausea began to settle in as she stared , unable to read any other part of the article surrounding the photographs . things began to fall into place , one by one . the way she’d picked up the phone –– maybe she truly didn’t remember evan , because maybe evan didn’t exist at all in the states –– , the copious number of videos and photos evan had been tagged in but never got around to seeing , the secret keeping , the missed call . THE MISSED CALL . it was that night . . . when time got away from him and he texted instead of calling . she hadn’t understood then , but she had a hunch now that maybe . . . maybe it was because bex was there , laying on the side of the bed that should’ve been HERS .

her chest began to rise and fall in rapid breaths , every cautionary tale and lived experience flooding her lungs at once . everything from the past few weeks toppled over onto her chest because she’d been RIGHT to worry about bex . she’d been right to feel like the place she left in the boys’ lives was being filled with a girl who had eyes for kieran . she was right to tell kieran to be CAREFUL with that one . . . because it wasn’t insecurity , and it wasn’t being a JEALOUS  girlfriend . it was instinct , and her gut feeling was never wrong . 

or maybe it had been , when it told her it was SAFE to allow herself to believe that love stories didn’t have to turn into tragedies . . . that not every man would hurt her the way declan had or leave her as her father did –– trading her in for a newer , more expensive model . 

but kieran , with his arms wrapped around bex and a smile on his lips , had done BOTH . . . and hadn’t even had the decency to tell her before telling the world . 

am i worth so little ? she thought , am i so easily replaced ? so easily unloved ? how could i be so stupid . . . so naive ?  

her phone screen was a blur without definition , clear droplets hitting the glass like the beginnings of a slow summer rain . her clothes suddenly felt too tight , frantic breathing ripping at the seams of her shirt . her stomach lurched and turned and somersaulted , unsteady and queasy and . . . 

she shoved her door open , slipping out of her car and kneeling just on the other side of it . tucking her hair behind her ears , grasping curls in a ponytail behind her neck , she threw up on the pavement of the parking lot . it brought no relief , though . in fact , her cheeks were still stained with tears . her chest was still heaving with labored breath . her head was still racing . . .

when did it start ? did he put up a front at first or did he immediately find himself in need of a distraction . . . one that was close in proximity and ready and willing . why wouldn’t he just BREAK UP with me ? being dumped would’ve been easier . 

was he bored with her ?

was he in need of someone smarter ? someone prettier ? someone more accessible ? someone who knew the life of a musician far more than she could ever understand ?  

she stood , wiping her mouth with the back of her hand . 

maybe it was a misunderstanding . . . a doctored photo . . . 

the parking lot was nearly empty . . . how long had she been like that ? motionless in her car as tears puddled over the article until she had no choice but to move . . .

evan’s lashes fluttered , blinking away tears as they came ; she had no idea when her hands had begun to shake , but they trembled as she pulled up her recent calls . his name sat there near the top of the list . . . maybe if she called , he’d tell her it was a fake . a rumor . a mistake . or maybe bex would pick up again , still wrapped in his bedsheets in the midst of an afternoon off of press . her thumb hovered over his name .

kieran had WATCHED her change for a boy who didn’t love her . he’d seen the aftermath of a broken heart . he’d witnessed the hurt she felt when it came to her father , the anger . and yet there he was , crystal clear in a photograph breaking her heart for the world to see . 

kieran , who swore he loved her . who swore she had nothing to worry about . who swore that she was just a jealous girlfriend the first time evan brought up her discomfort with bex . who swore he’d come home to her . 

it was worse than declan , because she hadn’t loved him this much .

it was worse than her father , because she’d never really promised to stay .

her thumb tapped the screen and she brought the phone to her ear ; the shrill ring came three times before anyone picked up .

“ evan ? ”

“ mam , ” she huffed , voice cracking as silent , angry tears finally broke into a choked sob , “ can you –– . . . could you –– . . . i t’ink i –– ” 

“ evie , my sweet girl , take a breath , ” her voice was sharper now . evan imagined her sitting upright in bed , spine straightened with worry , “ tell me what’s going on . ”

“ he –– . . . kieran –– ”

“ is he OKAY ? ”

“ YES , ” she shook out her free hand , slight frustration creeping in and only fueling the tears , “ yes he’s . . . i mean he looks . . . i t’ink maybe he’s ch-chea– ” she couldn’t even get the word out ; she was going to be sick all over again . 

“ oh , evan –– ”

“ could you just –– could you PLEASE come to london ? ”

there was a pause , agonizingly long . 

“ i can be t’ere tomorrow . ”

[shirtlesssammy]

15x08: Our Father, Who Aren’t In Heaven

Then:

Fighting the good fight since 2010

Now:

At the Lucky Elephant Casino, God’s knocking back fruity drinks, playing slots, and murdering everyone around him. Things don’t look so fun in Chuck-land. 

Meanwhile, Eileen is living her best new life hunting a werewolf. She’s kicking butt but has a temporary setback when Sam shows up. She shoves him out of the way to finish the job. She asks Sam if he’s following her. MAYBE he’s being a little overprotective, but c’mon, he did just bring her back from the dead. I’m guessing he’d like to keep her on the side of the living a little longer than a week or two.

Later at the bunker, they’re eating their respective burger (Eileen) and salad (Sam), and Dean walks in with the demon tablet. He’s hoping the tablet will reveal a weak spot with God. They’re going to need Donatello!

Cas knock’s on Donny’s door. Hmm, I see, divorced husbands still communicating about the case and Cas still doing things for the cause. 

Donatello comes back to the bunker, but isn’t happy about it. He gets to work eating chicken wings and translating the tablet again. Sam, Dean, and Cas casually hang out in the library and sneak concerned looks towards the prophet.

Donny finds some footnotes written by Metatron about God’s secret fear that he only shared with “his favorite.” Lucifer was already locked away by the time the tablets were written. He must mean Michael. The problem with finding Michael is that he’s locked away in the Cage. Donatello starts to freak out over how overly dramatic TFW’s lives are but then passes out in a chair. He comes to --but it’s Chuck this time communicating directly through his prophet. He tells them to leave it alone. Then he threatens all the women in their lives if they don’t (and I just hate/love this because this calls back to early SPN so much when the women died for all their man-pain.)

They tell Donatello to go home. Then they all decide (Cas reluctantly) to go to Hell to find Michael. Dean sarcastically tells Cas that he can “stay here” at the bunker. And I can’t for the life of me find the post now, but whoever made a post of Dean increasingly going from sarcasm to flat out begging for Cas to stay at the bunker is my hero. 

In the bunker’s kitchen, they cast the same spell Rowena used to get Cas and Belphagor to Hell before. Dean cuts his hand as part of the spell (something he’s done a thousand times before) and Cas takes the time to heal him (but doesn’t touch him like he normally does) and it takes so much of him to do it. I’m just going to sit here quietly for a bit before proceeding. 

Once in Hell, Cas leads the way until they run into a bunch of badass lady demons that completely kick their asses. Well, they do until a very familiar voice bellows, “STOP!”

It’s ROWENA!!! 

She’s now Queen of Hell. She’s also posturing up a storm. Ah. They tell her they want to lock up Chuck and they’re looking for Michael. She tells them he could be anywhere. The Cage opened just like the rest of the doors in Hell. She sends her demon minions to find Michael. 

Back at the bunker, Eileen is watching over the spell, and she gets a call from Sue, another hunter. She needs help with a vamp nest. Eileen agrees to help as soon as she’s done helping TFW. 

In Hell, TFW meets with Rowena in her throne room. She tells Sam that killing her was a good thing. She’s queen! Then she asks him to get her another drink (!) so she can have a little therapy time with the other two clowns. She tells them to “fix it” because there’s no reconciliation in death. A demon comes in to inform them that Michael “is nowhere to be found.”

For Perfect Framing Science:

Actually, he can be found at Jaci’s Red Wagon diner. It seems that Adam and Michael are good buds and Adam’s currently enjoying his first burger in ten years. 

Dean checks in with Donatello just one more leeeetle time to see if he’s gotten any Chuck-adjacent flashes. Just when you think you’re out, yadda yadda yadda… He THEN checks in with Sam about Eileen. She is FINE, Dean, they have “an agreement.” Dean picks up on Sam’s waffling, and tells Sam that she fits the parameters of a potential partner: she knows the life, plus she’s hot. That’s way better than the life Sam tried to build with Amelia, a bag of limes, and a dog. This conversation is also notable for Dean’s admission that he’d been in a very dark place not long ago but he’s climbing out of it now.

At the diner, Adam continues to chill with Michael and contemplate the future when Lilith arrives. 

She’s there to bring Michael to Chuck. “I’m not accustomed to being fetched,” Michael says coldly. It looks like things are headed towards fisticuffs when Michael just…burns her to ash right there. Ah, archangels. (Side note: I rewatched this section with the sound off while gathering images and watching her performance is every bit as engaging. I’ll miss you, scrunchy-nose Lilith.)

Donatello has a vision and sees Michael’s spiteful smiting (smiteful?). He calls Dean with Michael’s location. He’s in Cairo! Time for Dean to hop on a plane and hold Cas’s hand nervously the entire time… I’m ready for an airplane destiel fic episode!

Cas has an alternate, non-hand-holding suggestion. He’ll pray to Michael instead. In the quiet of an upstairs corner of the bunker, next to a REAL and also METAPHORICAL CHESS SET, Cas characterizes their last meeting as “unpleasant” and asks to meet up. “I’m not your enemy anymore. Now we all have the same enemy. God himself.”

Mmmkay, compelling words. Michael meets Cas in a warehouse. He remembers Cas. “You called me assbutt and set me on fire.” LOL, classic. Cas faces Michael stoically and lights a circle of holy oil around him. That’s the Winchester’s cue to enter and they do so with STYLE.

DAMN!

Dean presents a set of warded cuffs for Michael’s consideration. There’s clearly only one way out of the circle of fire.

For Check out the Curtains Made of Chains SO PRETTY Science:

Michael is twenty-five shades of pissed off at being confined. In the bunker he accuses the Winchesters of abandoning their brother and then shocks them all by flashing Adam back in control. 

Adam seems much more chill than Michael and reveals that he and the archangel only had each other in the cage so they came to an agreement. Dean, who only recently stopped dragging himself around in a post-Michael traumatic haze, is gobsmacked that Michael’s letting Adam walk and talk. He tells Adam that there’s nothing they can say to fix what they did by leaving him in the cage. “How about ‘I’m sorry?’” Adam suggests.

Michael wrests back control and we go back to Chuck talk. Team Free Will attempts to briefly explain that Chuck isn’t trying to usher in “boring” paradise. Instead, Michael’s dad would rather see everybody suffer, including Michael.

Adam pops back behind the helm and advises them to stop their paltry attempt at convincing Michael of Chuck’s perfidy. On his (their) own, Adam unpacks the situation. He doesn’t forgive the Winchesters for what they did, but he does think they’re operating from good intentions. I don’t remember where I saw this online, but somebody posted that they have never liked Adam more than in this episode. I completely agree! There’s a lovely amount of complexity and growth hinted at through this performance.

Michael finds it hard to shake off a near-eternity of being God’s favored son. God is “having a mid-eternity crisis,” Adam suggests. Maybe Michael should at least entertain the possibility that Chuck isn’t on the up-and-up. Michael doesn’t want to doubt his father. “You still care about that after he left you in the cage?” Adam asks.

Meanwhile, Eileen’s friend Sue calls again. She’s ready to move on the vamps and needs backup NOW. When Eileen hesitates, Sue needles her about having to ask for permission. Eileen rises to Sue’s barb and agrees to meet up. The camera tumbles, Sue swears, and Eileen acts immediately as the call ends. She races to Sam’s room and fills him in on her friend’s perilous situation. Together, they run off to give Sue backup. (I love how this scene both shows Eileen’s need to assert her own independence and her absolute trust and pragmatism in getting Sam to back her up.) 

Cas heads in to speak with Adam/Michael. Michael is still not on board the fight-Chuck train. Cas responds with sass, as is his custom. “I never liked you. I thought you were too haughty. Too…to paraphrase a friend, you had an entire oak tree shoved up your ass.” 

Now Cas finds him pitiable. Michael isn’t God’s favorite. He’s just a tiny part of Chuck’s favorite soap opera. DAMN, Cas. 

Cas goes even further, telling Michael that Lucifer was the smart one all along, and Michael SNAPS. He flips Cas over the table and gets him in a headlock. Cas struggles, and manages to lock both his hands on Michael’s temples. It’s brain zapping time! Even an archangel is no match for Cas’s mind mojo, and Cas dumps a clip show of Chuck being a dick writer into Michael’s head. 

Later, Cas decompresses alone in the kitchen. Dean arrives, then suggests that Cas might have misjudged the situation and gone too far with Michael. D E A N. Before Cas left, Michael essentially said, “Leave. Get out. I want you dead.” We’ve all been in agony for several days now over the parallels between this line and what Cas thinks he’s getting from Dean and AAAAUGH THE SWEET PAIN OF IT. “We didn’t bond,” Cas summarizes. If you need me, I’ll be hunched in this burning dumpster, muttering about profound bonds. 

The bunker rattles, and they race to Michael’s room. He greets them with, “God lied to me.” He gave everything for Chuck, but it turns out he’s not even unique across the multiverse if there are other Michaels out there. 

Sam and Eileen arrive at the hunt and discover abandoned vehicles. Sam’s suspicion bone is tingling, but then Sue shows up. She’s got this swagger, so Boris and I immediately assume she’s been turned into a vamp because we’ve been watching this show since forever. Uh, Sue’s not a vamp. She’s Chuck! Or…you know, Chuck’s her! [Admiral Ackbar voice] It’s a trap!

Michael agrees to help Team Free Will. He pulls out a slip of paper with a spell on it that can contain Chuck just like it contained Amara. All they need is myrrh, cassia, rock-rose, and the nectar of a leviathan blossom. It’s a flower that grows in Purgatory. Michael opens up a rift-style door with the snap of his fingers.

The door will stay open for twelve hours. Dean uncuffs Michael/Adam and apologizes for what happened to his half brother. Adam smiles sadly and wishes them luck in their Chuck-fighting endeavors. After he/they leave, Cas and Dean turn towards the glowing rift. It’s Purgatory time, baby! And you know what they say about Purgatory. It’s the perfect place to work out your emotions in a friendly, non-deadly environment!

Quotingmoon in Purgatory:

There’s a crack in his invincibility shield

When I go crazy again, just shoot me

Usually I enjoy our little process. I toss something at you guys and you slam it right back. It’s fun! Like tennis! With monsters

What am I picking up from you two? A wee tif? Tell your Auntie Rowena

Why would he send you, a demon, a speck of infernal bile?

Oh, I didn’t come to beg

Since when do we get what we deserve?

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[multipleuniversesinwriting-blog]

Title: One Last Time

Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, fighting, super soldier!reader vs winter soldier, swearing

Word Count: 3524

Summary: Your need to see Bucky as Bucky and not The Winter Soldier. Your strong need results in you going up against Bucky… possibly for the last time.

-------------------------------------

You ducked behind Steve’s shield, an artifact you had stolen from him while he was sleeping. (You were planning on your meeting with Bucky going south anyways. You should be back before Steve noticed) His metal fingers wrapped around the edge and you threw yourself into the shield, throwing him back and away from you. You stood and lightly panted, body littered with cuts and bruises that would hurt tomorrow… if you made it that far.

Bucky wasn’t Bucky- and while you had hoped there was a part of him that would… restrain from hurting you- you were getting proven wrong so much to the point it was painfully humiliating. The shield felt heavy on your arm- but it was the only thing that could protect you well against Bucky- considering your own weapons were currently sitting in Tony’s lab, half repaired. Bucky ripped a door of a car, and you pulled a matrix move, watching it fly over your body.

You leaned back up and ran forward- knowing you should’ve called for help, should’ve left and get your teammates to help you- but you were too far in now. You either would save Bucky or die - you really didn’t see any other way out.

You brought the shield down and slammed it into his face three times before he caught it with his metal hand, pushing against you as you began pushing against him, (e/c) eyes burning bright as your teeth bit down on your bottom lip- sweat coating you with a thin layer. His hair was sticking to him and you refused to think about when you were able to run your fingers through it.

His knee came out and slammed into your hip bone, and nearly shattered it. You danced away- wincing every time you put weight on your left leg. Despite having the serum in your veins, you were nowhere near as big as the boys- you were packed to the brim with muscle but smaller- more on the agile side than brute force- at least in looks. You could just as easily hold a helicopter to a landing pad like Steve could.

He charged and you tossed the shield, having it bounce off behind him as you lifted your leg- slamming it into his chest right as the shield clipped him from behind, sending him folding over like an accordion. You brought your elbow on the back of his head, quickly straddling him as the shield laid off to the side, not out of your reach. Your arms swooped down and you pulled Bucky into a headlock- lifting his upper half off the ground as you sat on his lower back- bending his body in a way that definitely should not be bending. He growled and roared in pain and your feet planted themselves on the ground, your left hand holding your right wrist tighter as you gritted your teeth, hoping to choke him out before he could regain his senses.

His hands fumbled around and when you saw his left hand coming up your heart sank, and he wrapped his fingers around your left wrist, beginning to squeeze. At first you could ignore it, tugging a little more desperately on your hold because you knew that next to come was going to be pain. Then you felt it- bones shifting in an attempt to stay unbroken, your fingers beginning to grow numb as the blood stopped reaching them. Your left hand slipped and you jerked your right arm up, breathing heavily as he continued to hold your left wrist in his hand, ripping you forward- slamming your chest into his back and your forehead into the back of his head.

Dazed you released your grip, and then you were flying across the parking lot- slamming into a car and shattering the glass, falling into the seats inside as you were left dazed and groaning, trying to regain your senses. The last time you had taken a beating like this was during your little civil war, something you had hoped to avoid.

You yelped as you were suddenly being dragged out of the car, glass cutting into you as you slid across the seat before slamming into the cement underneath, arms falling out to your sides as you groaned, vision wavering slightly. He continued to drag you till you were away from the car, and he dropped your leg, turning to face you. You watched him and he watched you- before he was crouching down, fist raised to most likely shatter your skull and paint the pavement with your brains and blood. No thanks.

You rolled away right as his fist came down, stopping after a roll to spin and launch yourself onto him, arms wrapping around his neck once again. He stood and you wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing yourself up a little bit to give yourself a height advantage. His hands came up, gripping your arms tightly. You leaned down and bit into his flesh hand, biting hard enough to draw blood as he ripped his hand away, his fist coming back up and knocking you in the face.

Blood gushed out of your nose but you held your grip tighter, ducking your head away from his swinging hand as he stumbled backwards. Your lower back slammed into a car and you knew you were probably screwed, but just a little bit longer and he would be down.

He took a step forward before throwing himself backwards, denting the car and leaving you in its metallic clutches, your hold tightening on his neck as you held him down with you. He grabbed your hair and jerked your head to the side, nearly snapping your neck as you cried out- but refused to let go. His metal hand began pounding into your leg- and you quickly figured out that he was trying to break your leg. You unwrapped your legs and pressed them against his back- the car creaking and squealing as you two began to dent it even further.

“Give it up Bucky! Let me help you!” You wheezed, and you heard a shout of your name, but it sounded far off. Bucky refused to respond, suddenly ripping you out of the car dent and reaching behind you, grabbing the back of your suit and flipping you over his shoulder. The air left your lungs and you watched as he gasped for breath, stumbling a few steps as he tried to keep his balance. Damn it, you had been so close.

You scrambled to your feet and grabbed the shield, spinning and using that momentum to send the shield out of your hold like a bullet from a gun- aiming to severely damage. It hit Bucky in the face, blood appearing across his face as the shield bounced off and landed three feet away from him. He slowly looked to you and you ignored the feeling of your blood running cold, watching the man that was not your Bucky.

You both stood still, and you heard your name again before you two launched at each other, throwing and blocking punches faster than the human eye could follow. You swiped his punch to the side, throwing your knee into his stomach and forcing him to bend over. His hand lashed out and grabbed your arm, spinning you around as his leg lashed out, sending you flying to the ground. His hold on your arm stopped you from completely hitting the ground, and a moment later white hot pain flashed across your eyes and brain, and your head snapped back as you let out a guttural scream, covering the sounds of your bones breaking in your arm and shoulder.

Your arm fell useless to your side and you forced yourself to your feet, stumbling and swaying for a moment before you spun around, only to be thrown backwards as he kicked your chest. Some ribs gave away and you crashed into a light pole, knocking it over and falling to the ground with it. You used your good arm to push you to your feet, swaying as your arm hung loose and limp by your side. It was scratched up and bleeding- and you were absolutely positive that the bruise of his hold would forever mar your skin.

Someone somewhere was screaming as Bucky walked towards you- a cold glint in his eyes. The Winter Soldier’s glint, not Buckys.

“Bucky! Please! We need you! I love you!” You begged, taking a few steps back before running into a car. He continued forward, seeming unaffected, and grabbed your throat, lifting you off the ground as he choked you. Your legs flew up, one flying over his right shoulder as your heel pressed into his back, the other wrapping around his left arm arm behind his head, your right arm flying up before coming back down, fist slamming into the elbow of his arm.

It didn’t crumple the first time, but you brought the side of your hand down a second time and it folded, and you tighten your legs to bring yourself closed to him, rendering his left arm useless for a moment. Your elbow came down on his face four times before his right hand came up, punching your rib twice. Iron coated your tongue as he ripped you off him, spinning and throwing you across the parking lot, back towards the entrance. You flew- forcing your broken arm to your chest as you cradled the back of your head, curling up as well as you could.

You blacked out for a second as you hit the pavement and part of a car, body falling limp in that moment before your eyes flew open- bile creeping up the back of your mouth. You weakly rolled to your stomach, good hand pushing you up as you spat out blood, hearing footsteps coming your way. You stumbled to your feet as Bucky pushed off the car a few feet away, flying down towards you. You ripped the door off the car beside you, swinging it and smacking him with it, sending him flying away. You held the door tightly in your hands, blood dribbling out of your mouth as you breathed heavily, chest heaving.

“(Y/n)!” Steve’s voice registered and you turned your head to where he was running towards you, his shield in hand. How the hell had he gotten his shield? Your head snapped back to Bucky’s attention as he was suddenly in front of you- a metal piece he had broken off the car aiming for a spot to kill. You dropped the door and threw your hand up, tossing his hand up before his other fist came in- nearly breaking your jaw as your head snapped sideways from the force of his punch. You were seeing stars and Steve seemed to be right there, but the metal was plunged in your stomach, right below your ribs, but in an upwards angle, Bucky’s cold hand against your back as he held you to his chest, your cheek resting on his shoulder.

The metal hadn’t been long enough to pierce your heart, but the blow would kill slow, and you coughed blood up on his shoulder, Steve’s screaming in the background as he finally reached you, ripping Bucky away from you and sending him head first into the car behind him, smashing him so hard his head broke the frame and he crumpled into a heap in the seat there.

You sagged, and Steve forced you back up to your feet, looking you over. You honestly looked worse than shit. You heard him speaking to someone, and weakly groaned to get his attention. You tried to speak but more blood came out of your mouth, and onto Steve’s shoulder. More people arrived moments later, and you weakly looked at Steve, growing weaker.

“I-I just- wanted, Bucky.” The man’s name came out as a whisper, a prayer, and Steve looked like his heart had just shattered as you were carefully transferred over to Tony, your vision dimming as you forced yourself to look over at Bucky- who was tied up and being restricted in his movements as he watched you- horror creeping into his gaze. You barely smiled as your head rolled back, blacking out.

That was the Bucky you wanted to see one last time.

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When you woke you immediately began thrashing, your senses not knowing your immediate surroundings. Hands grabbed at your arms and you opened your eyes- being blinded by a white light as someone shouted your name- beeping machines and voices running together and sounding like a waterfall in your ears.

Your mouth parted in a silent scream and you thrashed harder, Steve’s face coming into view before you suddenly relaxed, irises glowing red as you fell back into the bed and blacked out, dozing off.

Steve looked over gratefully at Wanda, who nodded and sat back down in her seat as Bucky and Steve released your sleeping form, heart monitor returning to a slow and relaxed pace.

You woke again a few hours later- beginning to cough painfully into your right hand. You went to fold over yourself and your coughing was cut off as you began wheezing- pain nearly causing you to black out again. Gentle hands pushed you back to be laying back down and you reached up- grabbing the hand and feeling the cold metal.

“Bucky.” You whispered, breathing spotty as you opened your eyes- looking over at him. You managed a weak smile- watching the horror and self hatred in his eyes. “You put up a hell of a fight.” You muttered- and he blinked rapidly, trying to stop the tears. You frowned softly and turning your palm towards him and gesturing for him to come in for a hug. He took a moment before leaning down and carefully wrapping his arms your waist, your arm wrapping tightly around his neck as he sat on the side of the bed. “It’s okay.” You whispered, listening as whoever else was in the room left, closing the door behind them.

He cried softly and you simply held him- ignoring the soft pain in your left arm as you attempted to move it before leaving it where it was. You used your right to gently run it through his hair- humming faintly as you tried not to fall asleep on his shoulder from the drugs.

“It’s okay Bucky. I still love you. I will always love. Always.” You whispered- eyes beginning to slide close. You let them close but forced yourself to keep listening- to keep your hand moving. He cried harder and you pulled him a little closer to you- holding him a little tighter. “Bucky.” You whispered- your body beginning to shut down. “I love yo…” You trailed off as you fell back asleep- your hand falling limp as your breaths evened out- your heart beating strongly in your chest as you fell asleep on his shoulder.

“(Y/n)!” You were seeing stars and Steve seemed to be right there, but the metal was plunged in your stomach, right below your ribs, but in an upwards angle, Bucky’s cold hand against your back as he held you to his chest, your cheek resting on his shoulder.

“(Y/n)!”  You forced yourself to look over at Bucky- who was tied up and being restricted in his movements as he watched you- horror creeping into his gaze. You barely smiled as your head rolled back, blacking out.

Your heartbeat picked up slightly but you refused to open your eyes- reliving the moment over and over in your head- watching it play out behind your eyes. Someone was holding your hand- another warm blooded hand- and you simply listened. Everyone probably knew you were awake but you didn’t want to talk right now. Slowly you opened your eyes, staring at the wall where it met the ceiling, the dingy white annoying.

“Welcome back.” Steve’s voice filled your ears and you sighed as a response, eyes slowly traveling down and looking around the room. Tony was leaning against the wall- bags under his eyes and his arms crossed across his chest- ankles crossed as well. Natasha was by the doorway, almost mimicking Tony’s pose cross for cross. Steve sat on your right, Wanda sitting to your left. Bucky was nowhere to be seen.

You turned your questioning gaze to Steve and he softly sighed- shaking his head just the slightest. You frowned slightly and blinked the wetness from your eyes- eyes moving back to Tony’s. He needed sleep- badly. You locked eyes with him and swallowed thickly.

“You should get some sleep.” Your voice was hoarse and scratchy, but Tony heard you.

“I can’t... “ He said and you didn’t push it. You looked down to your lap, refusing to look at your left arm. “I managed to create some nanotechnology that should be helping to repair your body… like the machine that created Ultron.” He suddenly said. “They mimic that, but work internally more than externally… if I hadn’t you more than likely were going to die from internal bleeding.” He said gruffly and you grunted slightly- blinking away more tears.

“It’s not his fault.”

“Oh please don’t-”

“God damn it Tony! Just because you’re saving my life doesn’t mean I’m letting you trash Bucky.” You managed to say loudly- nowhere near your yelling voice seeing as it hurt too much. Your voice sounded like you had the flu- scratchy and gravelly almost. “You know very damn well Bucky wasn’t Bucky. You can’t-” you were interrupted by a round of coughing- your right arm moving to cover your mouth as you coughed. When you finished you looked at Tony- eyebrows furrowed in a mix of worry and anger. “You can’t blame him Tony- you can’t.” You managed in a loud whisper.

“(Y/n), stop talking, im gonna go get you a glass of water.” Natasha said as she left the room- and you didn’t acknowledge her.

“Whatever (Y/n), you need to rest. The nanotech should be done by the time you wake up from your next drugged nap.” Tony replied angrily. Your jaw clenched but you could feel sleep tugging on you once again. Natasha came back with two cups of water and you took it with a slightly shaky hand- chugging the first cup before holding it out- waiting for the second cup. She took the first one and you wiped your lips before grabbing the second one- chugging it and feeling much better.

“Go back to sleep (Y/n), we’ll be here when you wake.” Steve said and you looked over at him as Natasha took the second cup, your hand resting on your lap.

“But will he?” You asked softly, and he sighed, watching you carefully.

“Maybe.” He answered. You sighed and leaned back- closing your eyes and letting your body sink back into the murky black.

You woke up one last time and sighed- pain gone from every inch of your body. You were alone, all needles pulled out and all bandages gone- seeing as the nanotech did their job. Slowly you sat up- the scratchy hospital gown rubbing against you uncomfortably as you slowly lifted your left hand- eyes wide- mouth tight lipped.

Tony had done it. The bastard had created another jump forward in medicine. Tears pricked at your eyes and you let out a small choked gasp- slowly sliding off the cot. Your bare feet landed on the ground and you stood- rolling your shoulders and neck, hand ripping off the feeble gown without a second thought- your sports bra still intact- your boy shorts still comfortable and somehow clean. Your stomach was spotless- no sign that Bucky had even taken a piece of a car and stabbed you.

The memory flashed across your eyes and you closed your eyes- taking in a deep breath through your nose and letting it out slowly through your mouth as your hand rested on your stomach, head tilting back as you let the sun beam in through the window onto your barely covered body.

“(Y/n).” Bucky said softly and your eyes opened- your head turning to face him, a soft smile on your face.

“The damn bastard did it Bucky. Tony fucking did it.” You whispered, before launching at him, hugging his clothed form to your more naked form- nearly choking him from how tightly you were holding him. He hugged you back tightly- burying his face in your neck- and you let out a breathy laugh- tears spilling out of your eyes.

“God I love you Bucky. So much.” You whispered, and he laughed- somehow managing to mutter it back as others began filing in- Tony shouting about lack of clothes, a party, and success. You smiled as you pulled away from Bucky- holding tight to his hand as Natasha held clothes out to you- an eyebrow raised.

“It’s good to see you back again.” She whispered and you nodded, smiling widely. There’s always a last time, but your last time was certainly not this time.