#season 10 rewrite | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

partystoragechest · 11 months ago

Text

A story of romance, drama, and politics which neither Trevelyan nor Cullen wish to be in.

Canon divergent fic in which Josephine solves the matter of post-Wicked Hearts attention by inviting four noblewomen to compete for Cullen's affections. In this chapter, Lady Samient escapes the banquet, to check on Trevelyan.

(Masterpost. Beginning. Previous entry. Next entry. Words: 2,464. Rating: all audiences. Warnings: swearing.)

Chapter 26: The Banquet - Part 3

Lady Samient of Samient, daughter of Duke Samient, was considering crime.

Specifically, she was considering whether the daughter of a Duke (you know which) would be able to, say, punch the mask clean off the face of a Comtesse, without hearing a peep from the Council of Heralds. It wasn’t as if she had anything to lose.

Fortunately for the Comtesse Bervard, before she could test such boundaries, the door to the garden opened, and the Commander strode back in.

When all the ‘excitement’ at their table had occurred, Lady Montilyet, their gracious host, had come to see what she could do. With the choking incident explained to her by Lord Pavus, she had offered to fetch a healer personally. But the Commander volunteered himself instead, and was gone before she could stop him.

Task now complete, he settled back into his seat, rigid and stern as ever. A silent race occurred between the nobility surrounding him, to see who would be the first to test his patience, and ask him for the gossip of it.

“Commander,” said the Baroness Touledy, claiming victory by some margin, “how is our Lady Erridge?”

“She’s well,” he answered. “Lady Trevelyan was able to remove the bone, and has taken her Ladyship to her room to recover.”

Lie. But Samient didn’t wish to point that out, nor did she need to, apparently:

“How convenient,” commented the Comtesse Bervard.

Samient clenched her knife, and resisted the urge to leap across the table with it. Every word out of the Comtesse’s mouth was yet another reminder of why Samient held such disdain for the politics of her country. In a civilised society, she’d be able to call Bervard a crusty old bitch to her face, and not suffer a single solitary consequence. Because she’d be right.

Convenient. Hmph. Yes, very convenient. About as convenient as the soldier marching on their table, his presence forcing Samient to lay down her cutlery. But he was not there for her.

“Commander.”

The soldier leant down to the Commander’s shoulder, and spoke at a noble-defying whisper, that was capably disguised by the hubbub of the banquet.

Yet it was not its contents that intrigued Samient—rather, its existence. Another whisper. For there had been plenty during the Commander’s absence, at the table across the hall. Between the Lady Montilyet and the Left Hand of the Divine, mostly, but also between the Left Hand and this self-same soldier, who currently whispered to the Commander. Such a chain could not be coincidence.

“Excuse me,” said the Commander, rising from his chair. “There is something to which I must attend.”

The soldier escorted him from the hall, to the rotunda. Minutes later, that soldier returned, and this time led away the Left Hand of the Divine.

Now that was convenient. Samient wished someone would whisk her out of here.

But, no. She had to sit through dessert, and suffer the Comtesse’s whining for the entire duration. It seemed as if it would never end, but at last the banquet was granted death. Samient, freed from the constraints of her seat and the tyranny of the table, shot to her feet, and strode to where the Baroness conversed with the Marquis du Vert, and some Fereldan noble.

Though a mist of rage clouded her mind, Samient at least caught some of their conversation. The Marquis apologised for something, and the Baroness thanked him regardless. The doldrums of politeness. But, noticing Samient’s approach, the Baroness waved them away, with a continuing smile.

The second they were out of earshot, her smile dropped.

“That fucking woman!” she spat in Orlesian.

Samient responded in the same tongue: “The Comtesse?”

“Who else?”

“Still an entertainer, isn’t she?”

“Not the word I would use,” the Baroness fumed.“You know, I almost had her former fiancé in bed once, but I decided against it, because it was not worth the trouble she would cause. But now—!”

“Which fiancé?” Samient interrupted, reminding the Baroness—with a sense of satisfaction—that more than one man had left the Comtesse at the altar.

Proud, the Baroness replied:“The first one.”

“Oh, the professor? Ha. You should’ve.”

Touledy scoffed.“I still might. But never mind that.”

There were, after all, more pressing matters, than unclaimed victories:

“I am headed to the suites,” Samient told her. “Are you coming?”

The Baroness shook her head. “I ought to make the rounds. And certain others would say it should only take one of us to check on them.”

“That is because certain others do not know what it is like to have friends.”

The Baroness chuckled, and said in the common tongue: “Go ahead. I will maintain appearances.”

Grateful, Samient bid her farewell, and departed for the guest quarters. But she was not a fool in this. An inconspicuous level of urgency (polite trotting, one could call it) was her gait of choice. Somehow avoiding the gaze and suspicion of the other nobility, she made it to the stairs.

She did not know what to expect when she entered the corridor that housed her and the other Ladies’ chambers. Quiet, perhaps. Crying, maybe. But what she heard, to her surprise and delight, was laughter. And it came from Lady Erridge’s room.

“This one, this one!” said the giddy voice of Erridge herself. “What does it look like to you!?”

“Lady Erridge!” replied a breathless Lady Trevelyan, scolding only in fun. “That is not polite!”

“We are not in polite company, Lady Trevelyan, and we may say what we like! And I think it looks like—”

Samient peered through the gap in the door. “Ladies?”

All foolery ceased at once, the startled Ladies frozen where they lay. Yes, lay—for they were on their bellies, on the floor, poring over some large cooking tome. Lady Trevelyan used a teddy bear as a chinrest.

“Lady Samient!” Erridge greeted, struggling to speak, latent giggles still echoing in her throat. “We are choosing a recipe to cook, and I think we should make a plum tart!”

“Lady Erridge, no!” Trevelyan protested.

“But we already have all the ingredients! For Lady Trevelyan’s dress is plum, and covered in sugar!”

They burst into laughter anew. Though Samient did not join them, she smiled to see it: “I am glad you’re well, after all that’s happened.”

“I am,” Trevelyan smiled, “thanks to Lady Erridge.”

Erridge squirmed. “Well, I can’t take all the credit. Lady Trevelyan gave me the idea.”

Trevelyan seemed as much surprised by this as anyone. “I did?”

“Oh, yes! You said you wouldn’t move from your seat unless it was ‘life or death’! Hence I made it so!”

Samient laughed. “Well played, Lady Erridge.” From a chess player to her protegee, she quite respected the move.

Lady Erridge, however, seeming eager to shift the conversation away from her cleverness, shuffled up onto her knees. “Did much happen after we were gone?” she asked.

Nice distraction. Samient humoured her at least, and recounted to them the basic events of the evening, dutifully eliminating any reference to that foul Comtesse. She spoke of Lady Montilyet’s intervention, Lord Pavus’ explanation—and of the Commander’s departure, to fetch a healer.

Although she quite suspected they were already well aware of that last part. For, by complete accident, as the Commander’s hand had left the table, a napkin had slipped with it. One that looked strikingly similar to the little cloth Lady Trevelyan clutched between her fingers now.

“When he returned, a guard summoned him on business, as well as the Left Hand.” Samient hummed. “Something urgent, I suppose...”

Lady Trevelyan shifted, her expression growing troubled—but that was hardly a revelation. Samient had presumed all this had something to do with Ostwick Circle.

“Hopefully they are dealing with that Comtesse!” said Lady Erridge, possessed of her own theories. “I do not think they should ever allow her to return. What an odious woman she was!”

“Hopefully so,” echoed Samient. “Saves hiring a bard.”

Trevelyan gasped. “Lady Samient!”

“What? We are Orlesian, and she insulted us all.” She shrugged. “There are consequences.”

“And I am sure the Inquisition shall mete them out ably.”

Samient hid her smile. It was quite sweet, the faith Lady Trevelyan beheld of the Inquisition. But they had meddled in the politics of Orlais more than enough, and had everything they needed from it. Petty squabbles like this were beyond their capacity or interest. And there were powers with which even might of Lady Montilyet would never dare tamper. Samient would know.

Oh, well. At least she had the Baroness’ revenge to look forward to. The rumours surrounding Touledy were evidence enough that her fantasy had not quite been in jest.

“Anyway, since I have seen you are both well, I think I shall head to bed,” Samient lied. “This evening has been tiring, to say the least.” And the idea of going back to the banquet nauseated her.

“Yes,” said Lady Trevelyan, “I believe I shall do the same.”

Samient narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t the only liar.

***

She knew well enough that once they had all gone off to bed, Lady Trevelyan would not sleep. Not just for the evening she’d had, but for the fact that Samient knew Lady Trevelyan was often sneaking out after nightfall.

She’d heard the footsteps pitter-patter past her room on occasion, and on others, had glanced out to see who it might be. Sometimes it was the Baroness. It was never Erridge.

And tonight, she heard them again.

Samient waited, until they had passed. She did not wish to confront Trevelyan here. Instead, she permitted silence to renew itself, and let the darkness settle. Into their guise, she crept—the sole sound that of her door, creaking on its hinge.

She hunted the footsteps, to the Great Hall. Though she glimpsed nothing of Trevelyan when she entered, the door on the opposite side—to the garden—swung shut. Drawing as little of the night watch’s attention as she cared to, Samient hurried through it.

In the moonlight beyond, there she was: Lady Trevelyan, a bedcoat thrown over her shoulders and boots lazily pulled on, traipsing over the stepping-stone trail. Samient pursued her from the shadows of the arcade, tracing her path between each column. Oblivious to her presence, Trevelyan continued.

She flitted up the stairs at the garden’s furthest edge, an ascent to the battlements above. Though Samient herself made it to the stairwell, she halted in her tracks.

Voices.

“Commander?” said Lady Trevelyan.

So that was what she was sneaking off to do? Interesting. Yet, she sounded surprised.

“Forgive me, I”—his voice was quieter, harder to hear—“disturbing you—sure you’re all right.”

Oh. Not a regular occurrence, then—at least from what Samient could tell.

The Lady Trevelyan assured him she was well, her voice growing softer as her footsteps faded away. Samient crept a little higher up the staircase.

“—dealt with,” the Commander said, hopefully in reference to the Comtesse Bervard.

“Thank you,” Lady Trevelyan replied. “But let that be the last we speak of it, for now.”

“Of course. I am sorry for”—interrupting?—“your stargazing.”

“That is quite all right; it is usually I who disrupts your route.”

“Not at all,” he replied, “I find I have been… walking more often, of late.”

Samient’s eyes flared. She could listen to no more of this. As loud as could pierce the night air through, she cleared her throat:

“M-hm!”

Perhaps it would have been better to withdraw, and leave them to talk longer. But the Commander would have other chances to speak to Lady Trevelyan—this was Samient’s last. There would not be another night.

The conversation halted. Samient ascended the last of the steps, and saw what she had only heard: a startled Lady Trevelyan, bedcoat drawn tight against the cold, and a braced Commander, still in his banquet wear. Long night.

The glow of a nearby torch flickered in her Ladyship’s widened eyes. “Lady Samient, the Commander was—”

“Just passing by,” said Samient. “I know.”

The Commander took this allowance with grace. “Yes—thank you. Good night.” He bowed.

He must have thought Samient would not notice his subtle little glance at Trevelyan, whilst he was bent low. But she did. And she thought it terrible. Terribly sweet.

But despite his apparent reluctance, he straightened and withdrew, towards the nearby tower. It was only once he had finally disappeared beyond it, that either Lady spoke.

“Lady Samient, the Commander was just speaking to me about what happened today,” Trevelyan hurried to say, “it relates to the Comtesse—what she said, and the mages who were—”

Samient held up a hand. “Lady Trevelyan, I am not the Comtesse Bervard. Whatever happened… I am sorry. And if you would prefer not to tell me about it, then it is none of my business.”

Trevelyan adjusted her bedcoat. “Thank you.”

“Nor is it any of my business why you were speaking to the Commander. It shouldn’t be anyone’s but yours.”

“It wasn’t—we, we weren’t…”

Samient glared, until Trevelyan stopped her stammering. “Lady Trevelyan, whatever happens between you and the Commander is yours.” She stalked closer. “Do not let anyone else dictate it. Not the other Ladies, not Ambassador Montilyet—not even your parents.”

Lady Trevelyan’s brow, stuck high and in shock, slowly began to crease.

“Be with him if that is what you want. But only if it is what you want. Do not let them dictate your life.”

“Lady Samient, I—don’t understand. I appreciate the notion, but...”

“I simply wished to tell you.” Samient glanced away, as the determination that shielded her pain began to fall, and a familiar ache consumed her chest. “I have always seen you as a kindred spirit, Lady Trevelyan.”

“Are you all right?”

Samient shook her head, and opened her arms. Through her bewilderment, Lady Trevelyan accepted them. An awkward, estranged embrace, perhaps—but the only thing, at that moment, holding Samient together.

“What’s happening?” Trevelyan asked, parting from her. “Why does this sound like farewell?”

“Didn’t the other Ladies tell you? I have no hope of the Commander. I am to return home in a day’s time.”

“What?” Lady Trevelyan’s head shook. “No, no—why? Can’t you stay? If you planned for the full month, then...”

“There is little point in it. I must leave.”

Trevelyan pulled her back in, holding on tight. Her embrace was unrelenting, lingering in denial of the fact that she would, at some point, have to let go.

“I will miss you,” she whispered.

“And I you,” replied Samient, her eyes trailing to the view of Equinor above. “But my home calls.”

Which was the truth. She just did not clarify which home she was called to.

#cullen rutherford #cullen x trevelyan #commander cullen #unwanted #unwanted fic #obviously things might be slow over the holiday season #i am autistic if you couldn't tell so this is not my favourite time of year #anyway we have officially hit the halfway mark #i do have an optimistic goal of finishing the fic before its one year anniversary but thats um... difficult #anyway i've finished the planning for the next arc and it is 9k words itself lol #i am. VERBOSE.#edit: 4/10/24 trying to rewrite this because it's a lot of tell not show

16 notes · View notes

leleamo · 2 months ago

Text

In the Ring of Greed

(episode 1, season 2)

After ordering his sisters to stay home, Blitz ran desperately to a place, a staircase, that would take him down, to the Ring of Greed. He was never there to gamble with money he didn't even have, just for work, but after his crazy ex decided to work for Mammon, he never went back there, and now, he's being forced to go there by a damn sinner from heaven.

When he got there, it was a dark place, but the lights from the big casino in the center of the cave made it seem like it was green, blinding to Blitz's tired eyes. He slowly walked towards the city...

The houses and other places were only 10% of the city, the damn casino was the other 90%, he hated that place, he really hated it, he hated the bets and miserable lives that the demons there had after the bets... well, that wasn't the goal, now he had to find Stella and Mariana.

Since he didn't have anywhere else to go, he entered the casino, green and gold inside, demons from all the rings betting their coins, a huge noise, not to mention the big throne in the center of the casino, and who was sitting there? Mammon, naked, covering his parts with money, with many followers on his shoulders, but one in particular caught Blitz's attention... this one in question, Mammon was talking to him practically whispering in it ear, almost swallowing the poor being, which was clearly the size of his mouth, the follower was in his hand, shy and clearly uncomfortable with the proximity...

Mammon lowered his hand, finally letting the being leave, but when it was finally on the floor... Blitz realized... it was Stella!

"Stella!" Blitz ran to her "What were you talking to Mammon about?! It wasn't about... Mariana, was it?"

"Oh Blitz... no.. not about her... and I'm glad you came!"

"... what were you talking to him about...?"

"... can we get out of here...?"

Once outside the casino again, they were both sitting on the floor

"I was talking about the debt my family has with him," Stella began, "My family is only rich because of that, and I'm trying to solve it... and that's also why I sell my own art... I don't want to have more problems with him than my family already had..."

"Stella... ah... okay... I understand... but I want to know why you wanted to help my family... you say it's because you want to be my friend, but there's something more than that, right? I still don't understand! You... You already have enough problems, do you want mine too?!"

"... my mother always said I couldn't buy friends... but I never cared about that, I helped the kids in my neighborhood, simply because I wanted them to be my friends... I helped them... at least they can hear me talk... I've always had problems and no one at home ever listened to me... at least someone I helped would listen to me, right...?" Stella said with shame, as if it were a crime, Blitz didn't seem bothered or sad, just surprised by the reason...

"I get it... like now with me, right..?"

"Yes..."

"Stella, you just had to start a conversation with someone, I'm sure you'd become friends with this demon"

"I don't know how to talk, I usually end up focusing on my own problems and that irritates me so much..."

"... Well... I like being your friend... and you don't have to pay me to be your friend..." He took her hand "You're cool... I'd already be your friend" He blushed "I mean, you did that... sewing thing for my sisters... you don't have to do much to be my friend... I didn't have many when I was young either..."

Stella smiled at his words, and gently hugged him "It's good to hear someone talking about me like that... hehehe... but I still want to help you, Blitz, just like you came to help me find Mariana..."

Wow, Blitz had forgotten that part "Oh... sure... let's go after her..."

Thanks for reading~<3

#the loney imp #helluva boss rewrite #helluva boss redesign #the loney imp Stella #ep 10 #season 2

5 notes · View notes

lilidawnonthemoon · 2 months ago

Text

2 notes · View notes

asexualbookbird · 4 months ago

Text

i knew this bone season project would be slow going but UGH its AGONISING shes already a wordy author and i have to read everything TWICE. I'm only aboht 120 pages in each book which feels like NOTHING but i have to remind myself thats 240 pages if i was reading One Normal Book

and it doesnt help that really i JJST want to be reading the updated version, regardless of my feelings on the book itself, the changes ARE good and the writing is more readable. The plot just SUCKS!

Still, I want to read the updated version of the Mime Order because there's less of the Rephaim which means I might actually ENJOY it in some way but WHY AM I LIKE THIS

#bookbird babbles #ezra reads bone season #bone season two anniversary boogaloo #I JUST LIKE THE MAGIC SYSTEM AND THERE ARE QUESTIONS I WANT ANSWERED #but at the same time. i dont want to have to wait another 10+ years for the conclusion lmao #i think authors should be able to write at their own pace #but i also think if youre a slow writer you shouldnt be signing 7 book series deals :')#and on top of that she used part of those 10 years to write two unrelated books AND REWRITE FOUR OF THE OG BOOKS #idk i know authors dont owe us anything but im still allowed to be bitter about it i think

5 notes · View notes

deancodedinthewater · 1 year ago

Text

Causing isaac emotional damage via detiel is my favourite hobby

#i just wrote a short thing for season 10 of my rewrite in his dms

7 notes · View notes

imalifegen89 · 2 years ago

Text

Dismantling Destiny III - Rewritten Fates

The third story of the ongoing series...

#john sheppard #stargate atlantis #ao3fic #my writing #stargate #cross over #cameron mitchell #sg 1 season 9 & 10 #stargate sg1 #sg1 #episode rewrite #canon divergent au #time travel fix it #romance #slow burn

2 notes · View notes

old-knightsvow · 2 years ago

Text

sometimes i look at my wips or my old notes with fic ideas and im like be serious rn

#A WHOLE SEASON REWRITE??? let's get you back to bed grandma you still haven't finished the valentine's day fic #10 tg wips btw. if anyone is interested in how much i love procrastinating #my hw fic ideas list is getting embarrassingly long too...and even more irrealistic bc i know i cant write that much LMAO #-> wants to rewrite s7 but w hw #txt

4 notes · View notes

love-killed-the-superstar · 5 months ago

Text

ugly crying i think i need to rewatch fast forward but take detailed notes this time

#of all seasons of 2k3 to fixate on why did it have to be the one that frustrates me so much #so much missed potential it drives me up the wall. but also when i think about how i would personally fix it my mind just turns into goo #the worldbuilding fascinates me because for every cool thing i like there is 10 things that leave me thinking... what the fuck #see: the way they were like 'oh yeah that hot dog store CLONED THE STORE OWNER SO HIS CLONE WOULD BE DOOMED TO MAKE HOT DOGS FOREVER'#IS THAT NOT DSYTOPIAN?????!!!#the different atmosphere/gravity zones... the lack of any nice food for some reason everyone is literally eating mould.. WHY?#the british 1920s looking cops in a futuristic new york... like seriously what was going on #i dont know man i dont trust in my abilities to do a full rewrite but i feel compelled to try to fix these things

0 notes

queen-of-deans-booty · 2 months ago

Text

Angel Heart: Final Part

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: The one person who knows where your children are is Castiel. The one person who matters to him is Claire. You get to find out the answer to the question: who does Castiel love more? Your kids or Claire?

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

You and Cas split up from Sam to take the barn. You're not afraid of what could be in there, not when you're very powerful so you walk on in without so much as a care. You walk to the back and see Amelia lying on a dirty old mattress. There are at least a dozen other people lying on different cots in the back room. All of them asleep in their own beds.

"Is that your wife?" you ask.

"Amelia!" Cas runs over to her while you stay where you are. She moans in pain but she doesn't open her eyes. "Oh, Amelia."

She finally opens her eyes and she becomes rageful and emotional because she thinks Cas is her husband. She tries hitting him but Cas holds her down easily.

"I looked everywhere for you!"

"It's okay."

"I tried to find you! You took my husband!"

Cas pulls her in and she loses the fight against him. She slumps against his chest and starts crying.

"Shh. Shh. It's okay. It's okay." Once Amelia has calmed down, Cas puts two fingers on her head to heal her but it doesn't work. He hovers his hand over her arms that's littered with cuts but they don't heal either. He doesn't bother asking you to heal her because he knows you won't. "Sorry. I'm usually able to heal any wound."

"I was dreaming. This whole time, I was dreaming of finding Jimmy, of putting my family back together. You're not him anymore. I can tell," she sighs.

"No."

"Where's Jimmy?"

"Your husband is in Heaven. Amelia, I promised to protect your family, and I failed."

"Not if Claire's alive. She's all that matters."

"Claire is alive. She's grown up to be a very strong-willed young woman."

"Oh, that's my girl," she smiles. "I just ... I shouldn't have ever left her. I thought if I could find Jimmy, I would make everything right. I should've never left her."

You walk to the window and peer out of it, spotting Dean and Claire with guns drawn. This is perfect, actually. Cas checks on the other women inside the room while Amelia stares at her bed with tears.

"How long have I been like this?"

"Two years."

You hear footsteps and walk out into the main room, and Dean aims his gun at you. He relaxes once he sees it's you and you look at Claire. You don't say a word when she goes inside the room, and she stops when she sees her mom.

"Claire? I'm so sorry." Claire runs to her mother and they embrace emotionally. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry!"

"You and Sam didn't answer your phones. Where is he?"

"The house."

"Let's go find him. Claire." She turns to him. "Stay here, okay? Do not move."

"Okay," she sniffles. "Thank you. Thank you, both."

You leave with the two men and enter the house. Dean has his gun drawn, Cas has his angel blade and you don't have a care in the world. You're not afraid of some angels. While they want to be quiet, you walk right into the kitchen and see a chair overturned with handcuffs. Looks like Sam was trapped and now he's not. A board creaks from behind you and you turn to see Sam swinging something at you. You grab it before it can hit you and toss it on the ground.

"Careful where you swing that thing."

"What the hell happened?" Dean asks.

"Listen, Holloway is a Grigori."

"Yeah, we know."

"Grigori? No, they were some of the first angels on Earth. It was an elite unit that went bad, but they're extinct. They were destroyed," Cas says.

"Some survived, and they've been hunting humans, making them create Heavens in their minds and feeding off them."

"Where is this abomination?"

"I don't know. I looked everywhere. He must've left."

"You sure leaving Claire all by her lonesome was a good idea?" you grin.

All three men immediately run out of the room and you follow behind them leisurely. By the time you enter the barn, Claire and Amelia are on the ground with Amelia bleeding from a stab wound in her gut. Holloway goes to stab her again but Cas interferes and tackles him to the ground. They fight but Cas doesn't exactly win this one. Sam pulls Holloway off Cas and turns him so that Dean can deliver a punch to his face. Holloway kicks Dean in the chest and headbutts Sam from behind. It's clear none of these men are going to win this fight so you casually walk over to him, and he turns with a glare on his face. He brings the sword down on you but you grab the blade before it can penetrate you. Red magic pours from your body and your eyes shine red.

"I don't think so."

"No, you can't be real. The Scarlet Witch is just a rumor."

"I'm flattered you've been talking about me," you grin. "Too bad you won't live to tell anyone else." You yank the blade away from him and toss it to the ground before grabbing his throat. You force him to his knees and he stares at you with such fear that it gives you joy. "You are no match for me but it sure was cute to watch you try."

You put your fingers on his forehead before touching yours and immediately, his power begins seeping out of him. You breathe it in until there is nothing left, and you crush his throat in your hands. He falls to the ground, dead, and you look at the brothers with hooded eyes and a smirk.

"You're welcome."

"Mom?" Claire gasps. Amelia is lying on the ground with blood coming out of her mouth but she isn't moving. "Mommy, please stay with me. Mom? Mom! Mom, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Mom, please."

Now my patience has run out.

"Okay, I'm going to ask one more time." Everyone but Claire looks at you. "Cas, where are my kids? I know you know where they are." Sam and Dean look at each other with fear but Cas won't back down so easily. Still, no one answers you. "No one wants to answer me? Fine." You grab Claire by her hair and yank her up to her feet. You pin her to your front and wrap your hand around her throat. The other arm is wrapped over her chest and gripping the opposite shoulder. All three men immediately move toward you but you flash your eyes red. "Take one more step and I'll snap her neck."

"Castiel," she whimpers but you tighten your grip on her throat.

"Where. Are. My. Kids."

"I don't know."

"I don't believe you. I have been looking for them for the past two weeks, and they have not shown up on any camera across the country. They are children. They go outside and play. Tell me how they are able to do that and not get picked up by a single camera. I know you had something to do with that."

"Please, just let her go and we'll talk," Cas begs.

"I gave you the chance to tell me and you lied. Now I'm forcing your hand. Tell me who is more important to you. Your wannabe fake daughter or my kids?"

"Don't tell her," Dean says. "I don't care what she does but don't tell her where they are."

"It's kind of hard to talk without a mouth, Dean, isn't it?" Immediately, Dean's mouth is gone and he panics as he touches his face. Sam watches with wide eyes, too scared to say anything. "Tick-tock, Castiel. I'm waiting."

"Please, don't do this."

"Please don't do this? That doesn't sound like a location to me."

"Castiel, please," Claire whimpers.

You pull her in tighter and put your mouth next to her ear.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. Mommy and Daddy are waiting for you in Heaven. Or is it Hell? I'm not sure where they ended up." You look at Cas. "You have three seconds to tell me or she's dead. Three."

"Please, Y/N, don't do this. Let her go and we'll talk."

"That's not a location. Two."

Castiel looks at Sam and Dean with sad and guilty eyes. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out of it. He doesn't know what to do. Guess I'll have to make the decision for him.

"One." You immediately snap Claire's neck and she falls to the ground, dead. Castiel yells out in anger and lunges for you but you blast him and the brothers backward. "I told you what would happen. Consider this a lesson learned."

You walk out of the barn and Cas crawls over to Claire with tears in his eyes. Dean sucks in a breath and realizes his mouth is back. Cas holds Claire's body in his and rocks her, sobbing loudly. Suddenly, she gasps awake and jerks in his arms, and all three men look at her with wide eyes. You killed her. She was dead.

"How is she alive?" Sam asks.

"I don't know."

Cas doesn't question it. Claire is back and that's all that matters. He sobs and pulls her into a hug while she looks around with frantic eyes.

"She killed me. She fucking killed me."

Claire has to get far away from all of this and there is only one person who will take her in without question. Jody Mills might have her hands full with Joanna, Maryann, Noah, Zeus, Colonel, and Alex but she is eager for another kid to come to her in time of need. Plus, it'll be nice to have another girl Alex's age for her to hang with. She'll know your kids are with Jody but as already talked to Jody about keeping it a secret from everyone else.

"Someone has to do something about Y/N. She killed me," Claire says to Sam.

"We're working on it," Sam sighs.

"So, what? Are you sending me to some sort of halfway house for wayward girls?"

"No. Not at all. Jody Mills is good people, and she'll give you a place to crash until you get back on your feet. It's not forever, right?"

Sam looks over his shoulder at Dean and Cas who is talking off to the side.

"What are you gonna do about Claire?" Dean asks.

"It's not up to me."

Sam walks away from her and Dean walks away from Cas, switching places with his brother. Dean takes a present out of his car and hands it to her.

"I felt bad about taking the gun back."

She opens it to see a DVD of Caddy Shack and a book titled 'The Enochian Myth'.

"Thanks but I don't think I'm interested in any more homework."

Dean takes the book but kneels in front of her bag. He opens it and lifts the sword the Grigori was using out of her bag.

"Do you honestly think I didn't see you take this?" He puts the sword back and lifts the plush cat Cas got her. "Really?" He puts the cat down and shoves the book inside along with the DVD. "I'll just put these in here." He stands up. "You know, Claire, you already got your revenge. If you go down this path... our path... It's not a long life."

"I don't know. You seem pretty old." Dean scoffs playfully and shakes his head. "Listen, what I did, setting you up, I'm sorry. I just... I shouldn't..."

"Forget it. It's in the past."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Me? I don't know, but I will keep fighting. I'll keep swinging until I have nothing left."

"Will you keep an eye on him?" Both of them look at Cas. "He's been through enough."

"So have you. Claire, do your homework before you do anything stupid, okay? We're here if you need us, any time." A cab pulls up to the parking lot of the motel that will take her to Jody's place. "I'll get you loaded up."

"Um, Claire." She turns to him. "If you, um, if you... need anything, ever, I'm ... I'm ... I just wanted you to know that..."

Claire cuts him off by hugging him. That's as much as an apology that he's ever going to get from her. They part and Dean opens the back door of the cab for her.

"Dean?" she says through the open window.

"Yeah?"

"Y/N's going to get better, right?"

"I hope so."

"Don't give up on her."

"I won't."

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester angst #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural angst #spn #supernatural series rewrite #supernatural season 10

25 notes · View notes