wantdead

[wantdead]

Hey, can I ask you something? What?

[wantdead]

" hey— " he opened his arms in an attempt to reach out to her and pull her closer. " what's this about? " you're not okay was a widely broad accusation that needed to be narrowed down, so that he'd know what to explain to her better.

Lily shook her head, teeth catching her bottom lip in order to keep from crying harder. "You're n-not okay, Dad," she insisted, knowing in her heart that she was right, no matter how hard he and Sam tried to keep her guarded from the truth.

[wantdead]

dean furrowed his eyebrows upon overhearing her while she made her way to the door. he made a mental note not to ask about how her last night went ... " hey rowena, " he forced a smile as he lowered his chin, " you busy? "

@wantdead more like wantro ro ro ro ro rororororroorroororrirjfjdjdjdjdjdjdjdjdjdjskd

&&&. the wards trip first, a prickling heat across her skin not scorching enough to indicate a threat, so the witch is rolling her eyes and rising from the bed by the time the knock rattles her door. silken robe drawn around petite form as she pads to the door.

"henry, dear, i know i was good," irritation leaks into her voice at her expectant caller, footsteps falling harder on wooden floor and rugs, "but frankly darlin', y'just..." she flings the door open, other hand already on her hip. "...weren't." pause and her eyes widen, fingers quickly flying upward to ensure she is suitably covered, before an easy smile smoothes her features. "dean."

[wantdead]

that was a long time ago. people change.

" yeah — people. " he emphasized.

" but you? " he tilted his head skeptically.

[wantdead]

" don't try an' be funny. " he scoffed dismissively. she was doing it on purpose, and that was the more infuriating part. in moments like that, he wondered if it was all worth it ; teaming up with these strangers and their questionable friends, deciding to trust in their collective thirst for vengeance over doing it all on his own ... he didn't want to quit, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about doing it .

" i dunno how a guy like butcher decided to trust you, but let's not pretend like we're ever gonna be— " his words trailed off as he glanced over at her hunched over. he blinked a few times, caught off guard by the sudden change in her demeanor. feeling lost as to what to do, he asked, " — you alright? "

SHE isn't trying to blunt or unapologetic. She's exhausted. Why should she have to prove herself to anyone?! She'd found her people when Butcher had come to her. Being apart of the Seven all those many years ago, having lived through manipulation and literal HELL. Now she joins some of the elite on the most wanted list...and this is what she gets to do...Babysit. Great.

Let him think what he wants...that's where she's at. Just let him be prideful. She has nothing to prove, even if her heart aches. Even if, right now? She feels like throwing up.

"You didn't want me to leave, so I didn't."

She simply reminds him, still, not looking in his direction. Suddenly she has lost her appetite however, setting the hot dog aside and reaching back for a bottle of water.

Did she have free will when her parents decided to hop her up on V as a child?! Did she have free will when the Seven chose her when she was a minor?!

None of this sits well with her, and she hates that for right now, like a dog, she's set to behave and OBEY Butcher's authority.

...fuck...is the headache coming early?! Queenie flinches, sometimes she can subdue it herself. Suddenly, her nose starts bleeding... She hisses and hunches.

[wantdead]

dean watched her for a moment, his jaw tightening as he let the weight of her words sink in. he glanced down at the amber liquid in his glass, as he pondered. anger began bubbling in his chest for the bastard who’d left her to carry all of that on her own. he set the glass down with a quiet clink, leaning back in his seat as his gaze returned to her. " i'm sorry, " he said softly, " you had to go through that all alone ... " there was a pause, his brow furrowing as he leaned forward again, elbows on his knees. " — and you did what you had to do. that’s more than most people can say. " his tone was steady, almost matter-of-fact, but his eyes gave away the truth— he respected her for it, even if he wished she hadn’t had to fight that battle in the first place.

Light scoff escaped her at his urging to hear more, "Screamed myself hoarse for an hour. Started throwing things— his things. Either at him or out on the lawn. Debated slashing his tires but I realized that would be counterintuitive to getting him out of my house." A weary sigh left her lips as she remembered what happened after the fact; her story was not yet finished. Long pause filled the air as she debated telling him the final part of the story, the part she'd yet to tell anyone even after all years. "... Son of a bitch still got what he wanted in the end," she muttered, voice sounding empty and far away, "three weeks later I was pregnant." Reaching for the bottle of liquor herself, Hanna refilled her own glass, taking a hearty swig before her voice filled with bitterness once more, "But I refused to let that piece of shit have any say in what happens to my family so..." she trailed off with a half-hearted shrug, assuming Dean could infer the end to her story.

[wantdead]

" does it sound worse than the alternative? i mean, if anythin', y'can start fresh. "

"And lose everything I have? Gonna have to pass."

[wantdead]

" you can always quit the job, y'know. "

She snorts. "No one gives a shit what the weapon wants."

[wantdead]

JENSEN ACKLES as DEAN WINCHESTER Supernatural | Baby (11.04)

[wantdead]

he'd swiped one of the specialized hunters' entrance cards in order to access the side of the building with restricted access. he had never heard of that floor before, and he was curious to understand what ... why ... who. the access card led him down a long, bright, empty hallway full of locked doors — and the worst part was the realization that behind each door, there was a presence of some kind. it was unsettling, how much it resembled an asylum. as he walked further down, he noticed a door that didn't look like the others:

DANGER! — specialized hunter personeel only.

of course — this floor held monsters captive ... but why not just kill them? unless ... no one knew how. dean swallowed roughly, now grown hesitant in his endeavor, but nonetheless curious. he took a deep breath in and opened the door which led to a box-like room with a see-through glass that revealed a prisoner confined within. dean's gaze grew wide in shock as he was quick to conceal the surprise from the captured girl. at her question, dean stared for a moment, unprepared for the conversation. he glanced over the wall next to him and grabbed the roster that hung, listing all the shifts from hunters who had previously visited to examine her.

twenty recorded days so far. he cleared his throat. " just coverin' for ford. " he spoke with a casual tone. " — how're you feelin' today? " / @antiqsvchotic

@wantdead plotted starter

oh  how  it  feels  that  time  has  stopped.  within  the  white  walls  marked  with  sigils  and  spells,  no  windows,  hidden  doors,  minah  could  barely  keep  it  together  through  the  days.  she  could  feel  the  blood  pumping  in  her  veins.  how  it  feeds  off  of  her  frustration  and  anger  that  she  continues  to  feel.  it's  what  they  want,  right?  for  her  to  feel  everything  so  they  could  see what azazel's child could do. whatever that meant.  every  single  day,  they  continue  to  watch  her.  much  like  the  monsters  in  the  asylum.

she  was  pacing,  much  irritable  today.  fingers  running  through  her  hair  as  she  took  deep  breaths.  wanting  to  quiet  the  screams  in  her  head.  and  to  much  her  dismay,  the  door  slowly  began  to  open  and  minah  quickly  braced  herself.  stepping  backwards  till  she  hit  the  wall.  however,  it  was  a  different  face  today.  not  any  of  the  others  she  has  been  dealt  with  before.  not  the  hunters  that  cycle  out  throughout  the  day.  this  only  meant  it  was  going  to  get  worse.  at  least  in  her  mind.  “what  do  you  want?”

[wantdead]

why you? it was a fair question. and it was one that he had but mere theories about. his superiors had hardly given him much explanation, but the more he was getting to know her, the more convinced he was of his own assumption.

he stepped a little closer, his gaze unwavering as he met hers. " — because they're afraid of you. " he spoke bluntly. " and they don't know what to do about it. " he was rather confident in his own theory. " and i know this — because that's how they treated me too ... " he held back the most crucial part of his side of the story — the reason why he was feared ... after all, he was but a mere specialist. wasn't he?

"..." Bloom's feet touched the ground as she proceeded to shift her weight uncertainly. "How? Why you?" How would a Specialist especially a full fledged in the field one would be able to help her. She wanted a real answer she was just so tired of people dancing around the subject of her magic. They hadn't even known her magic couldn't be stolen until the Trix failed at it. "None of it actually helps. It's like everyone is just throwing ideas at a wall and hoping it sticks."

[wantdead]

I think as (tumblr) rpers, we are too anxious to go inactive from the dash, even for a little bit, because the longer we stay gone, the quicker we disappear from other muses' stories that we might have previously contributed to.

but as someone who has been here for over a decade and has seen muses come and go, I still carry these "lost" stories with me, and so does dean. I still carry headcanons that were developed with muns and muses that are no longer active like:

dean's first crush being his childhood best friend lana (oc)

dean seeing bela in hell post-s3

(tvdu) dean seeking bonnie's help for his demon deal in s3

(btvs) dean not liking buffy because he met faith first and heard her side of the story

(disney) dean being the huntsman who falls in love with the evil queen

these stories are never lost, they're just dormant. even if I don't bring them up, I am aware of them and cherish them, and when given the opportunity, I pass their legacy on.

I think as writers, we could use the reassurance that even in our absence, our muses' stories still live on.

[wantdead]

" what's happening right now? i feel like I'm missin' some context. "

@wantdead cont.

"... You're laughing at me! You think it's ridiculous that I think I'm scary!"

[wantdead]

Still one of my favorite deans *hides*

whaaaa omgggg 🙈🙉🙊

[wantdead]

You think I'm scary, right? Honey? 🥺

he puffed out an amused breath, " no ... " on second thought, realizing that wasn't the answer she wanted to hear, " — i mean ... yes ... "

[wantdead]

dean had seen a lot of crazy shit in his life, but this? this was up there. a demon— lilith, of all demons— acting like a panicked, bleeding-out human? — being a human? that was new. but there was no time to process the cosmic joke that was happening in front of him. she was losing blood fast, and the reality of her not healing right away was still something she had to process.

dean sighed and pressed firmly the cloth back onto her wound, forcing her hand to keep it there. his voice was sharp, commanding—she needed to listen.

" why don't we talk about your existential crisis later? — 'cause right now, we need'a focus on you not bleeding out all over my damn bed."

he reached for the first-aid kit, already pulling out supplies. " — and for the record, i didn’t break anything— you went and pissed off a witch. you might wanna reevaluate that as an option from now on. " he hinted and shot her a look before cutting her ruined shirt open to get a better view of the wound on her abdomen. it was deep, and still bleeding, and… she really wasn’t healing.

his stomach twisted at the sight of her—pale, vulnerable, human. it was unsettling — not because he hadn't seen a bleeding person like that before, but because she wasn't supposed to be a person. he just exhaled through his nose.

" you’re gonna need stitches, " he muttered, already threading the needle.

❝ I’ll steal it from someone else and give it back—calm your horses, cowboy.❞ She growled, the thought of him trying to kill her over a stolen credit card spreading faster than the idea she might actually be in danger or him actually trying to help as she watched him rushing around. But really, what could you expect from someone who’d spent thousand of millennia's without fearing for her life, barely anyone capable of harming her, and no trust for a soul? Him running around to help her? Yeah, good luck convincing. ❝ No need to insult me. I’ll get a burger myself, alright? Also, don’t talk about my father like that—I’m the only one allowed to call him a bitch.❞ She reached up a hand and snapped her fingers, expecting some poor soul’s cheeseburger from the diner next door to land in her lap. But nothing. Again, nothing. Snap. Snap. Snap. ❝ What the— ❞ SNAP.

❝ HA! SEE! ❞ Finally, something landed in her lap—but not a burger. Oh. Pressure? Eyes wandering in confusion towards him. ❝ What for? You think some cheap witch could harm ME? Look, it’s almo—❞ Her brief confusion ended abruptly, too abruptly, as she sat up, yanking her shirt up to inspect her abdomen. Bad idea. Blood gushed everywhere. How did she not scream in pain? Denial truly was the best pain killer. If she hadn’t already been pale (hell wasn’t great for melanin production), her condition might have been obvious. She might absorb knowledge of all sort like a sponge, but survival instincts? She lacked those entirely. God must’ve been feeling experimental when he created her. At least Lucifer saved her before she could trip over herself on her was out of Eden. Instead of realizing what was wrong, she glared at Dean, frustration and despair mixing as she yelled, ❝ This body was perfectly fine for eons! You broke it! What did you do?! ❞ Why was she… crying? Has anybody ever seen this woman crying? Pretty sure even god above was stunned for a moment, almost as if she just hit puberty. ❝ I don’t want to get an ugly host like you! ❞ Yeah, no—she still hadn’t grasped the whole "demon no more" thing.

[wantdead]

| | | | 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐁𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ⛧

a study in:  teaching  angels  how  to  sin  and  men  how  to  cry, still  spitting  on  adam’s  grave after  dozens of milena.  handcrafted  perfection  with  a  soul  too  human  for  paradise,  divinity  wrapped  in  weakness,  judges  mankind's sins  while  wearing  temptation like  a  skin,  a  mirror  that  cracks  yet  never  shatters. (cr.)