#My cane is called Abel everyone say hi

[madamsnape921]

On the Plus Side

Chapter 1

Chapter 2> Pairing: Frederick Chilton x reader

Warning: Most of Chilton’s injuries are briefly mentioned

Note: The Chilton injury that kills me the most is his lips so we’re going to pretend that didn’t happen. Okay?  

WC: 767

VDay Bingo square: Exile - Taylor Swift

Tags: @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @law-nerd105  @prurientpuddlejumper @itsjustmyfantasyroom @lv7867 @word-scribbless @alwaysachorusgirl​ @teamsladsandgents @storiesofsvu​ 

Dr. Frederick Chilton had the worst or best luck depending on how you looked at it. 

To start, he was not the most ethical doctor, considering the whole fiasco with Abel Gideon. He may not have been the Chesapeake Ripper, but he was still a bad guy who killed his own family. Dr. Chilton was lucky in that he was able to keep his license and his job, but not so lucky since he gained a dangerous enemy in the form of escaped murderer Dr. Abel Gideon as well as the real Chesapeake Ripper. On the plus side, he survived.

Gideon achieved his revenge by kidnapping and maiming the psychiatrist that made him believe he was the Chesapeake Ripper. Frederick, unfortunately, lost a kidney, gained a long scar down his abdomen, and now requires the use of a cane. On the plus side, he survived. 

After recovering and returning to work, life seemed to settle back down for Dr. Chilton. That lasted until the Chesapeake Ripper decided to frame Chilton for his own crimes. The bad luck here included having multiple corpses in his house and being arrested. The dead bodies were removed then his house was professionally cleaned and remodeled. While that did cost a pretty penny, his house looked better now than ever before. Before it could be determined that he was innocent and released, Chilton was shot in the face. Unfortunately, that left him missing several back teeth on one side, a hole in his cheek, and a glass eye. On the plus side, he survived. 

To make matters impossibly worse, he was set up to be taken by yet another killer, Francis Dolarhyde. I think I've seen this film before and I didn't like the ending. He had to endure being stripped down, glued to a wheelchair, forced to make a recording taking back the words he was given to say by the FBI, and, as if that were not enough, being set on fire. On the plus side, he survived.

As Frederick laid in the hospital, he questioned everyday whether or not that last survival was actually good luck. Nothing about his life currently was good. I feel like I'm in exile. He had been here for months, and he was going out of his mind. Recently, he underwent his final skin graft on his face and, luckily, they were going to start letting him recover between grafts at home. The one condition for this was hiring a home health nurse. 

He had been interviewing nurses for weeks. It was excruciating. Everyone was incompetent. One person had even had the audacity to completely lie on their resume.

“Your resume says you have experience as an oncology nurse. How do you plan to translate that experience to this job?” Frederick questioned.

“Well you see, um. I gave patients baths and …” the interviewee attempted to answer.

“STOP! You’re lying. Did you believe I wouldn’t call your previous employers? Did you come to this interview in those tight clothes thinking my libido would be doing the hiring? You have never been a nurse. You flunked out of school.” Frederick growled.

“I’m so sorry, Dr. Chilton. I just really need …” She was interrupted again.

“I don’t care. You’re apparently more stupid than you look. You have already wasted enough of my time. Get out,” Frederick seethed. 

After that, the applicant ran from the room, crying. 

Frederick was livid. He had spent months convincing his doctor to release him, and now he is going to be stuck here because he could not find anyone competent enough to hire. He was starting to regret tossing out some of the applicants for petty reasons in the beginning. After giving what felt like a second, third, and hundredth chance in the form of interviews, he was tired and his throat was hurting after trying to yell. On the plus side, that interview ending early left him enough time for a nap before his final interview of the day.

The hospital nurse came to check on him about half an hour later waking him up. After changing some bandages, he left him to his own devices. 

Reviewing the last resume, Frederick discovered that it had some serious potential with some actual home health experience.  Still, he was not going to hold his breath. He was just making a note for a question when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Frederick called without looking up. When he did look up, his jaw would have completely dropped if his newly grafted skin was not so tight. 

“Hello! I’m YN YLN.”

#thatesqcrushvdaybingo #Dr Frederick Chilton #Frederick Chilton #frederick chilton x reader #frederick chilton fanfic #chapter 1 #crispy chilton #on the plus side

[alwaysachorusgirl]

Almost Perfect

Pairing: Frederick Chilton x Female Reader

Word Count:    2,595

Square: Date Gone Wrong

TW: none, just a lot of sweet, romantic fluff (because I like my Frederick soft, sweet, and romantic) 

Tagging: @thatesqcrush, because it’s her Bingo

Notes: So, this ended up being a lot longer than I thought it would. And it looks like some of my paragraph formatting got screwed up when I copy/pasted from MS Word. Sorry about that!

Frederick Chilton took a deep breath, straightened his posture, and mustered up every ounce of courage that he had. He wasn’t expecting you to say yes to having dinner with him. In fact, if he was being honest with himself, he was fully prepared for rejection. He could only hope that you wouldn’t laugh in his face. He took one more breath and knocked on your office door.

           “Come in!” You looked up and smiled when you saw your boss, colleague, and friend enter your office at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.

           “Good Afternoon, Y/N, I hope I’m not disturbing you?”

           “Of course not, Frederick! Please, come in! I always have time for you.”

           Your smile was warm and kind and made Frederick’s heart skip a beat. He tightened his grip on his cane, hoping it would be enough to hide the slight shaking in his hand. The other hand was holding a patient file, his excuse for coming to see you.  His eyes followed you as you stood and walked around your desk to stand in front of him. He had fallen hopelessly in love in with you months prior, after the “incident” with Abel Gideon. You had been there at his bedside when he’d woken in the hospital after surgery. Somehow you managed to come visit him every day, all while getting your own work done, helping to run the BSHCI, and picking up his slack. After he’d been released from the hospital you had organized and scheduled his home care nurse and physical therapist. You had come to see him after you got off work, bringing groceries, cooking meals, and even helping with his laundry. You never asked for anything in return, always claiming that seeing him getting better and stronger was all you needed. He still didn’t completely understand it all, why a beautiful goddess, such as you, would even bother with a miserable wretch like him. But you had, now poor Frederick was too far gone to turn back.

           “I, uh, came to return this patient file,” he said, holding out the folder to you.

           “Thank you,” you said, taking it from him. “I hope everything was in order?”

           “Oh, yes! Your notes are impeccable, as always,” he replied. “You always notice the smallest details that everyone else misses. It makes my job easier in regard to prioritizing cases.”

           “Thank you, Frederick, that’s very kind of you to say,” you blushed at his praise, and nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. An awkward moment of silence passed before Frederick spoke up.

           “Actually Y/N, there’s something else I’d like to speak to you about, if that’s alright?”

           “Of course, it’s alright, Frederick, why don’t we sit down?” You looped your arm through his and led him to the couch. He waited for you to sit down and make yourself comfortable before he occupied the spot next to you. “Now, what did you need to speak to me about?”

           “Ah, yes, well…” he paused, completely at a loss for words, and horribly second-guessing himself. His eyes met yours. You were giving him the sweetest and most gentle look. You truly were the most rapturous beauty he had ever seen. He was completely undeserving of you, and he was so certain that there was no way you would ever agree to going out with him.

           “Frederick? Are you alright?” Your eyes were now full of concern. You took his hand and held it between both of yours. You could see that he was anxious and nervous about something.  You slid closer to him, knowing that your presence seemed to have a way of calming him. “It’s okay, Frederick, I’m right here. You can tell me anything.”

           “I truly adore your company,” he finally stammered out.

           “And I adore yours as well,” you replied. He breathed a sigh of relief at that.

           “Are you, by any chance, busy tomorrow night?”

           “No, Frederick, I’m completely free. Did you have something in mind?” You felt the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and your hopes rising. Was he about to finally ask you out?

           “Would you be interested in having dinner with me? I mean, I understand if you’re not—” He was shocked into silence by feeling of your soft lips kissing his cheek. Then he saw the radiant smile on your face.

           “I would love to have dinner with you, Frederick, nothing would make me happier.”

**************

           The following evening Frederick arrived promptly at your apartment at 7pm sharp. You buzzed him in and checked your make-up one final time. You didn’t know what restaurant you were going to, you had asked him to “surprise you”, and the only hint that he had given you was that it was a newer, upscale place. You heard his knock on your door, and looked down at your dress, hoping it would pass muster. You checked the peephole to verify that it was him and unlocked and opened the door.

           You couldn’t help but smile when you saw him standing there in the hallway. His suit was different than the one he’d been wearing at work that day but was still clearly designer and perfectly tailored. His cane was in one hand, a bouquet of red roses in the other. His own jaw dropped when he saw you. He couldn’t help but wonder as to how he’d gotten so lucky.

           “You look beautiful, my dear,” he breathed. He held out the roses. “These are for you.”

           “Thank you, Frederick,” you said, kissing him on the cheek, “They’re beautiful, and you look incredibly handsome as always. Come in, please; do I have time to put these in water?”

           “Plenty of time, “Frederick replied, stepping inside, “the reservation is for 7:30 and the restaurant is only a few blocks away.”

He glanced around your apartment while you went into the kitchen to find a vase. It was small, but cozy and warm, and decorated to suit your tastes. He wandered over to the shelves where you kept your books. He wasn’t at all surprised to see all of Jane Austen’s works, along with collections of literary essays and criticism of her work. He pulled your well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice off the shelf. You had started reading it to him while he was in the hospital, but he had been released before you could finish it, and the place where you had left off was still marked.

“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going tonight?” You called from the kitchen.

“How do you feel about La Tempio’s?” He answered, putting the book back on the shelf. You came out of the kitchen with roses now in a vase, and your eyes wide.

“That new fancy vegetarian place that all the restaurant critics are raving about?”

“The very same.” He checked his watch. “And I think we should get going.”

You put the flowers down on the kitchen table, and grabbed a light shawl and your purse, double checking to make sure that you had your keys, phone, and wallet. You heard a fire truck go by outside, sirens blasting, but thought nothing of it. You took Frederick’s arm and let him lead you outside to his car. You were so busy looking at him that you didn’t even register the second fire truck screeching by your apartment building, or the dark gray storm clouds gathering overhead.

*****************

             You and Frederick saw the commotion as you turned onto the street where the restaurant was. There were two firetrucks outside one of the local businesses. Firemen in full gear were scurrying around. Well dressed people were the standing across the street looking concerned. Frederick pulled his car into the first open spot he saw and turned off the engine. You both and walked a bit closer to investigate. You saw a young woman in black dress pants, a white button-down shirt, and a matching maroon vest and necktie and called out to her.

           “Excuse me? Miss? Do you know what’s going on?”

           “Kitchen fire at La Tempio’s,” she answered, walking over to you. “One second I was serving a table, and the next thing I know, there was smoke coming out of the kitchen, and the Maître D was asking everyone to evacuate quickly and calmly. If you had a reservation, you might want to reschedule. I don’t think the firemen are going to be done anytime soon.”

           A loud clap of thunder rumbled overhead, and you all looked up at the darkening sky.

           “That doesn’t sound good, “the young woman said. “You might want to head back to your car before- “She was cut off by the deluge of rain that suddenly fell down from above. You quickly thanked her and took Frederick’s arm. You didn’t want him slipping and falling, and you were both already soaked to the bone.

           You tried to get back to the car as quickly as possible, but that was when one of your heels slipped and snapped off. You felt your ankle twist at an odd angle as you lost your balance and fell forward. Frederick’s arms reached out and caught you before you hit the pavement, but you felt a sharp pain shoot through your ankle.

           “Shit!” You cursed. “I think I just twisted my ankle!”

           “It’s alright, Y/N, just lean on me, I’ve got you. We’re almost to the car,” Frederick desperately tried to comfort you. You reached down and took off the broken shoe, limping while Frederick managed to get you both back the car. Once you were inside you both stopped to take a breath and figure out your next move.

           “My dear, I’m so sorry. How’s your ankle? Would you like me to take you to the nearest emergency room or urgent care? Just go back to your place?”

           “I think I’d much rather go back to your place, if that’s alright,” you said, taking his hand and squeezing it reassuringly. You weren’t ready to give up just yet. You knew how nerve-racking it had been for him to ask you out. He needed this. You needed this, and you knew there had to be a way to salvage the evening. “You need some dry clothes and I’m sure you have something that will fit me. We can order take out and stay in, maybe watch a movie? Your couch is extremely comfortable…”

           Frederick kissed your hand and nodded. He couldn’t believe how calm and understanding you were being about all this. He started the engine, carefully pulled out of the parking spot, and started the drive back to his place.

**********************

           If anyone had told you that you would wind up on injured on Frederick’s couch tonight, you would have told them they were crazy, but here you were: lounging as comfortably, wearing a pair of his soft pajama pants and one of his button down shirts, your injured ankle in his lap while he tended to it. He finished wrapping and securing the ace bandage, then picked up the waiting towel and ice bag from the coffee table. He draped the towel over your ankle and carefully placed the ice bag on top of it.

           “There, “he said, appearing to be quite satisfied with his work. “How does that feel? Has the pain reliever kicked in yet?”

           “I think it’s getting there, and you’ve done a wonderful job, Frederick, thank you.”

           “It was the least I could, especially given how horribly things have gone tonight.”

           “Frederick, please, none of this is your fault! There’s no way either one of us could have predicted what happened.”

           “All the same, Y/N- “he was cut off by the sound of the doorbell. “Ah! That would be dinner!”  He carefully moved your ankle off his lap and onto a pillow. The couch was full of extra pillows and blankets that he had retrieved while you had been freshening up and changing clothes in the downstairs bathroom earlier. You stretched out while he went to the door. He came back a few minutes later with a large paper bag in his hands. He placed it on the coffee table, then went to the kitchen and came back with silverware, napkins, a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a corkscrew. He had ordered take out from your favorite Italian place, and you watched hungrily as he pulled various containers out of the bag.

           “Baked Penne with meat sauce, and extra mozzarella,” he announced, handing you a container and a fork.

           “Thank you, Frederick, I love how you always remember my favorite take out orders.” You took the food and dug in. It was perfect, just the way you liked it.

           Frederick sat and stared at you for a moment, completely mesmerized. After the way the night had gone, he had fully expected you to reject him, but you were still here, with your kind eyes and sweet smile. He also got a secret thrill from the sight of you wearing his clothes. He thought you looked better in them than he did, but he would never say that aloud. Instead, he reached for the television remote, turned on the TV, and handed the remote to you.

           “Put on whatever you like,” he said.

           You took the remote and started searching through Netflix until you found exactly what you wanted. You looked at Frederick hopefully.

           You okay with The Princess Bride? It’s my favorite.”

           “Whatever makes you happy, Y/N,” he replied, opening the wine and filling the two glasses.

           You both sat in comfortable silence, eating, drinking and watching the movie, pausing it briefly so that Frederick could clean up and put your leftovers in the fridge.

“Would you like another glass of wine?” he asked when he returned. He saw that you had rearranged yourself so that your ankle and the pillow under it were resting on the coffee table.

           “No thank you, but do you know what I would like?” You patted the space next to you, and he sat down, a bit confused by the question. You lifted his arm and put it around your shoulders. You restarted the movie and put the remote to side before wrapping your arms around his sturdy torso and snuggling against him. You placed your head on his chest. Frederick had gotten the message by this point and wrapped his other arm around you. You smiled and snuggled as close as you could. “There, that’s much better.”

           Frederick gently kissed your forehead.

           “I’m sorry again for everything that’s happened, “he said softly. “I just wanted everything to be perfect.”

           You looked up at him and it broke your heart to see such sadness in his eyes. You reached up and caressed his cheek with your fingers.

           “Frederick, stop apologizing. This is perfect.”

           You pulled his lips down to meet yours, soft and tentative. Frederick went stiff for a moment from shock, but recovered, pulling you close, his lips melting into yours. He had dreamed of this, but never thought it would happen.  He could have sworn your lips had been made for his, the way they fit so perfectly. You pulled away to catch your breath and smiled.

           “You know, I usually don’t kiss on the first date, but I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

           “So have I, Y/N, for months now, in fact. So, does this mean you’ll give me another chance at taking you out to dinner?”

           You kissed him again and snuggled into his chest.

           “Yes, Frederick, I’m yours.”

#thatesqcrush vday bingo #frederick chilton x reader #frederick chilton #hannibal #hannibal fanfiction #fan fiction #writing #raul esparza

[bladeslost]

HEADCANON LORE: PROLOGUE / PREQUEL.

His earliest memory is that of his back against the cold concrete wall - and hands shakily grasping for balance. He had brain-fog, and there was a ringing in his ears─and though he couldn’t think of why he was in an alley between homes, or remember why his heart hammered so violently against his chest, he just knew he needed to keep going.

To where, he did not know. He just knew he had to go. He lowered his gaze, only then catching a glimpse of a delicate silver pendant on a thin chain, entangled around his palm and fingers. Again, he didn’t know why he had it, but he shoved it into his pocket, and kept going.

It didn’t occur to him at that point that he knew nothing. Remembered nothing. Not how and why he wound up there, and not his name - nor who his family was. Or if he had one in the first place.

. . . . . . . . .

“You have to go. Now.” His mother said, so flawlessly keeping her tone casual - as though she were trying to shoo them as to not be late for a gathering - but he knew his mother; he knew how her smile turned crooked when she forced it. And he knew how his father tensed when something deeply disturbed him.

Abel expected to hear his dad respond to his mother when he watched him grab her hands... But he said nothing to her. 

That was the moment that Abel’s heart dropped to his stomach. That wasn’t normal for them. And he could swear that he saw a reddened, glossy look to his father’s eyes─but as his mother fell to her knees in front of him and his sister; as both children were pulled into her warm, firm embrace─he didn’t really get to do a double-take.

Their hug was silent, and he felt her - felt his mother’s chest tremble with what he could only assume was a whimper. 

❝Mom? Mom, are you crying?❞ Abel managed, just barely above a whisper. 

His sister, Valentina, whispered - her voice almost cracking, “... you’re going to be gone longer than you said... Aren’t you?” 

Corvina began to run her fingers through the younger child’s hair, and her other hand rested against Abel’s cheek─gently brushing her thumb over his skin.

“I’m... Going to have to leave for a while─”

❝How long?❞ Abel blurted out, before really processing what he intended on asking.

“A while, my love.”

❝But how long?❞ He insisted, louder this time. His father’s hand came down to squeeze his shoulder, and Corvina closed her eyes briefly. When she looked at him again, her head tilted - and her features softened. “... Work, my darlings. I have to do something for work... And it might take a long while. And I’m going to miss you all. So much,” she needed to pause then, to calm herself. Not that it worked, because tears were already pooling in her eyes. “And... You know that my job can be risky, don’t you? I need you all to leave the house for a little while... Just to be extra careful. You understand, right?”

❝... Mom, then─please, just say that next time... You were scaring me, you know?❞ He muttered, squeezing her wrist. “Me, too!” Valentina cooed.

A sigh was heard from behind them, and Corvina stood, looking at her husband again, before handing him a thin silver chain, with a pendant. 

“... For good luck.” She told Taj, and he took it from her slowly.

Corvina kissed both of her children one last time before hurrying them out the backdoor ( why the backdoor? ), and she pulled Taj back for a moment, whispering something that Abel could not make out, but he was distracted anyway. Keeping an eye on Valentina, because she truly was so clumsy. Always tripping.

He reached out to take his sister’s hand, and she squeezed lightly, before they took off with their father.

. . . . . . . . .

They were close to the heart of Noxus Prime, and they weaved between houses for reasons unknown to him. Because the degenerates are out at this hour, their father said.

And while that might have been true, Abel began to have his doubts when Taj stopped, looking behind them at seemingly nothing. But he was... On edge.

He unraveled the pendant from his palm, and handed it to Abel, tangling it in between his son’s fingers purposefully─and before Abel could question it, his father muttered, “keep going. You take your sister and you go. You don’t look back. I’ll be back in twenty minutes, you hear me? I swear.”

It was then that the knot in his stomach tightened again. ❝... But you just said the degenerates are out. And now─❞

“Abel─” His father sounded aggravated, but he didn’t care.

❝Now you’re telling us to go without you. That doesn’t make any sense─❞

“I just need you to fucking listen─can you just listen?” 

The children stiffened, put off by the tone and the language - because their father has not once cursed at them before. And Abel’s words were caught in his throat even as Taj crouched down in front of them. He didn’t know what to call that look in his father’s eyes at the time, but if he’d known, he’d have called it desperation.

His dad’s firm grip held Abel’s arm, and Valentina tightened her hold on his hand - but he didn’t really notice either, too focused on Taj’s panicked stare. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled. I shouldn’t have cursed. I’m so sorry, I’m just─I forgot one thing, and I don’t have time. Please, I just need you both to get to the guild. I forgot to give your mom something very important, and I can’t miss her. I have to go back. But listen to me. I will be back. Just twenty minutes. Can you do that for me? Can you look after your sister?” He rambled, stuttering every now and again. His voice was shaky. Abel had never heard that tone on him.

So he nodded silently.

“‘Cause you’re her big brother, right?”

❝─And I keep her safe.❞ He swallowed hard. ❝Okay❞, and Valentina echoed an ‘ okay ‘ of her own - quiet, and anxious.

Taj nodded, and hugged them so tightly that Abel’s chest hurt for a moment. But he held in that grunt. He watched him get up and leave - so much quicker than he’d been just moments before. They were small, and couldn’t keep up with their father, ever.

Hand in hand, the children continued to head to the mercenary guild their father currently ran. Supposedly, his second-in-command knew they were stopping by for now. Their mother said it herself: her job was risky, and so they all needed to... Disappear, for a while. That’s as far as he and Valentina knew.

Not five minutes into the walk, Valentina tugged her hand away. “I want to go with dad. It feels wrong. Something is wrong...” She muttered, a little helplessly with a pleading stare. 

Abel’s brows furrowed, and he shook his head. ❝No. No, we can’t. There’s a reason he didn’t take us. I know something’s wrong, but we can’t!❞ He whispered.

Valentina shook her head. “I don’t care!” She insisted, and Abel huffed in response.

❝You have to care! If mom and dad are nervous, then that means they’re being as careful as they can be. We could cause everyone to get hurt if we get in their way. Is that what you want?!❞ He shouldn’t have yelled. He knew it the moment the words finished spilling from his lips, and there was that knot at the pit of his stomach. Ugly butterflies. Guilt. Abel parted his lips again - this time to apologize, to do a better job about reasoning with her. 

But a familiar crimson spark lit up at Valentina’s temples. Her magic. Abel could feel the chill roll up his spine - all while his sister’s stare was locked on him; pained and panicked, and teary-eyed. She was going to make him forget; he knew it. Forget the conversation, or what their father had just told them. 

❝Val, don’t─❞ A stinging sensation settled at the center of his forehead─so brutal that it made his eyes hurt. His knees gave in, but he just barely held onto the wall for support. 

He could barely make out his sister’s cries for him, desperately repeating his name, followed by a ‘ no no no no no no! ‘, but at that point, his vision was blurry, and he was quickly losing consciousness. 

Valentina’s shaky hands reached for him, grabbing at the fabric of his jacket in a feeble attempt to awaken him. Her breathing quickened as the anxiety rose, and she propped him up against the wall, trying to hold his head up.

No use. He was passed out, and the worst part was not knowing if he was still in pain.

Scared, the girl looked at her hands, then at her brother’s unconscious body. 

What had she done? Why was he in pain? Why did he faint?

She’d never had good control of her magic while in a panic. She messed up, she knew it. And how to explain that to her mom? To her dad? They’d have questions and she could provide no answers.

Valentina raised her trembling hand to wipe her tears, before getting back on her feet. She needed to find her dad - immediately. So she ran back towards the house - knowing she needed to hurry. She couldn’t just leave her brother in the alleyway on his own like that, but what if she really did hurt him?

. . . . . . . . .

By the time that she could see the doorway to the back of her house, something pulled at her heart to stay away. Because the door was partially open.

Mom would never leave it open. Dad would never leave it open.

But she stepped forth anyway, though her limbs were shaky, still. “Dad?” She called out quietly, stepping into the kitchen through the back door. And had she not been an innocent child, perhaps she may have noticed an odd thing or two out of place. 

The click of a heel echoes from beyond the hall, and her neck cracks as she whips her head around to glance in that direction, and─

and she notices a hand on the floor, in a pool of what looked like ink in her eyes. But that hand had a tattoo over the thumb, and up the wrist... Like her dad’s.

Her blood ran cold then, and she froze at the sound of heels clicking against the wooden floors. The tall silhouette of a woman dressed in deep reds and blacks emerged from the hallway - with a grim expression. 

Perhaps the shock is what had caused her to easily become distracted by how pretty the lady looked. A walking cane in hand, it tapped the floor gently when she stopped in front of Valentina. 

“... Oh, darling. Are you... Corvina’s girl?” The woman inquired, crouching down before the child. “... Sweetheart... Now - do me a favour. Try to look at my face. Don’t look at what’s in that room. I am so sorry...” The woman shook her head.

“... My name is Adelaide Olsen. I’m a work-friend of your mom’s, of many years. And... We knew that she had run into some trouble, and that someone was out for her, but... We didn’t think they already knew where she lived. My dear, we came as soon as we learned they had found your home. We wanted to help her, but when we got here, it was too late. And I truly hate to be the one to tell you this... Valentina, right?”

But the young girl was still processing everything. It felt unreal; as though her body had gone cold. She parted her lips to ask a question, but all that came were sobs that she failed to suppress. Several seconds went by before she managed, “My da─ad too... I thought it was ink... It’s not ink, is it? ... He’s on the floor─” she stammered, shutting her eyes tightly while her body trembled. 

Slowly, Adelaide rose to her feet, and she closed her eyes - lamenting everything.

All because Corvina had to open her mouth to an outsider─and for what?

“You were not supposed to see them like this, dear Valentina. I am so sorry that this is how you had to hear it. We... Will do whatever it takes to find who did this to your parents.” Lying to a child came naturally to Adelaide - she’d had to deceive all her life. 

And truly, she did regret everything. Perhaps... Had she not utterly refused to have a hand in Corvina’s elimination, she would have been able to give her husband a more swift death. But no, they had made sure he suffered.

His crime? Learning the name of the Black Rose. Knowing that they still exist; that Corvina served among their ranks.

She had been Adelaide’s dear friend─but from the moment she married, she felt that shift, too. Corvina had long since lost interest in the game and the politics. Taj cemented that. As much as Adelaide had loved her, Noxus came first. A professional distance would be needed, and so she’d refused to meet her husband or children. 

The Black Rose demanded secrecy - and Corvina violated that oath of secrecy by telling Taj─a non-mage. Corvina knew the consequences. She would not have awaited death so gracefully had she not known. Corvina knew death very intimately─even a necromancer knows how to cheat it. But she chose to accept it and stare it in the face instead.

It would take many minutes of comforting the child to get her to stop shaking. Even fewer minutes for Adelaide to decide she would take Valentina with her - as her protégé. 

Valentina soon explained, a bit erratically, that she’d accidentally hurt her brother - and was passed out in an alley on his own. So she parted ways with her colleagues and went in the direction the child pointed out.

Her brother, Abel, was nowhere to be found. Valentina claimed to have hurt him, but there was no evidence of blood... Or other things. They searched around, and when Valentina begged to check with the guild, she quieted the child the same way she did everything.

Theatrics, illusions, and lies.

And she did check, of course; that was still Corvina’s boy, and she would have taken him in, too. Nothing.

What Valentina had not known was that the pendant their mother had given them served as a charm to conceal, not a ‘ good luck charm ‘ as she had claimed. They would never find him - not as long as he had that enchanted amulet.

They were separated then - Valentina unable to find him, and Abel─having forgotten who he was to begin with. That pendant was soon pawned off, having no idea that it had kept them out of the Black Rose’s gaze, and that it was the last thing he would have from his mother.

How could it have mattered, though, when his earliest memory was of that cold, concrete wall pressed against his back?

And if they were to cross paths as adults, how would they know it? Abel had died, and Talon clawed his way out of those remains.

#▐ ━ HEADCANON. #▐ ━ META. #ok fellas this is it / #the prequel before the lore / #2.5k words of... lore and lots of characters / #this is super long if u want a tl;dr but dont wanna read i gotchu / #slide into my dms ✨ / #yes all of the characters mentioned are important !!! / #and if u Do read this entire mf thing pls let me know bc i want to personally thank u and tell u that i love u /

[slimy-slug-nerd]

SPOILER ALERT ❗❗❗❗❗

The following post contains spoilers for the following:

Thomas Sanders

Sanders Side

The latest Sanders Side Video

The following post will also contain mature context and will feature direct quotes from the video. You have been advised.

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Read the book and still see if you need to correct me - Logan

(Logan, you would be a master at fighting internet trolls with your vast knowledge. I love you and your brain.)

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Have you ever imagined klling your brother - Mystery Voice

A: I don't have a brother

B: Does the continuous thought of my lil' sister's death (not by my hands) count?

C: (after the 3rd or 4th watch) Is he talking about Roman?

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Roman: ...ghost are evil...

Virgil: I resent that

(Virgil, are you implying that you're actually a ghost?)

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New Character!! Love that outfit. The Dark Side of Roman!!! Sounds kind of like Roman and Deceit had a baby?? I mean, he has a few of each of their quirks??

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A to Z reference in song...made me think about that A to Z movie on Netflix. You know, the one with the creepy short flick about two girls smelling each other's farts.

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"A snake offered me a morsel from the tree of knowledge" - Duke

so Deceit is speaking the truth now?

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Thomas talking about Jeffery Dahmer...Your Virgil is showing (and he's standing right there).

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"I can't hear you" aka Dark Side motto

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"Roman and I. We are Cain and Abel. And that cane up your butt makes you unable to explore more mature ideas in your content" - The Duke

The writer in me is loving all this word play!

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Duke: Excuse me but I am your creativity. I do have opinions on the matter.

Virgil: But are they opinions that matter?

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Duke: Look, pleasant metaphors aren't really my strong suit.

Virgil: You have a strong suit?

Duke: I do! My birthday suit!

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Shut up your mouth or I'll tare off your nipples and shove them up your nose. - The Duke

A: That is a pretty good, yet very uncomfortable, threat. You made Tumblr proud.

B: HOW DARE YOU THREATEN TO HARM MY LOGAN!! 😡

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Virgil: But what if he's lying?

Logan: I can promise you he's not. You're just being para...

A: Another slip of the tongue from Logan. Even Virgil noticed this time.

B: I have a feeling we're gonna have Logan's room be the next room we visit. Something on the lines of confronting the feelings he doesn't want to have.

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Consider the Seven Deadly Sins. Greed. Pride. Envy. Lust. Wrath. Five of the Seven Deadly Sins are committed in your head. - Logan

A: He litterly just labeled everyone with a deadly sin.

Logan = Wrath

Roman = Pride

Virgil = Envy

Deceit = Greed

The Duke = Lust (all those butt jokes)

(Bravo, Patton, on being a good angel boy!)

B: Future Sanders Side video?? (Yes, please!)

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Logan: ...I can figuratively dress him down.

Duke: Oh! Well, if that's what you wanted, Logan *starts undressing*

Logan: Nuh huh. I said FIGURATIVELY and THAT is why I say it. THAT 👏 IS 👏 WHY 👏 I 👏 SAY 👏 IT!

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*Duke busts Logan's front teeth up Logan's nose*

Me: HOW DARE YOU HARM MY LOGAN!! 😡

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Thomas: Ok, I got one guys. Since we call Roman Princy, do we call you...Dukey?

Duke: Or you could just call me by my name...Remus

(His name is the same as my favorite Harry Potter Professor!! *geeks out*)

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Duke: *throws ninja star and hits Logan in the forehead*

Me: STOP HURTING MY LOGAN BEFORE I COME IN THAT VIDEO AND FIGHT YOU!! 😡

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There is no rhyme or reason to what I do, I just do. - Duke

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Duke: NAILS ON A CHALK BOARD! Literally, like finger nails nailed to a chalk board.

(Even I've never thought of things that literally...)

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Virgil: I sound the alarm whenever Roman suggests Thomas talks to a cute guy...

Logan: *sideways smile*

(Is...is that Thomas shipping Logan and Princey? MY SHIP!!! 👑💘👔)

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Duke: Ha ha. You tickle me Emo!

(Nice pun!)

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Logan doesn't say anything before shrinking down. Logan doesN'T SAY ANYTHING BEFORE SHRINKING DOWN! 😮

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Virgil: I though I would be able to protect you from them.

Thomas: The Dark Sides?

Virgil: The others.

(He still calls them the "others". He still thinks he is a Dark Side!)

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Virgil:...but I should know better.

Thomas: But isn't that kind of unfair? Why should you be held to a different standard.

Virgil: Because I was one of them.

(💔 Virgil! Nooooo!...side note: we are totes gonna get more Virgil back story! Eee!)

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THAT ENTIRE END CARD!!

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Duke: There's a snake in my butt.

What Thomas Meant: This is a fun play on words referencing the original Toy Story movie in honor of the new Toy Story 4 movie that just came out in theater.

Fanders: OMG! Deceit x Duke SHIIIIIIP!

(Sorry, Duke, but Deceit's mine. The slimy boi belongs with this slimy gal)

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Thanks for taking the time to read all of that! I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to share your own opinions! I love to geek out!

- Your Fellow Slimy Fander

#sanders sides #new sanders sides #video #my thoughts #thomas sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #deceit #remus sanders #ts deceit #ts virgil #ts roman #ts logan #ts patton #ts remus #sanders sides spoilers #spoiler alert

[death-himself]

enjoy my theories and me connecting dots that weren’t meant to be connected and also random notes

this is from my third time watching the new episode, including every single tiny detail i noticed because when it comes to theorizing i either dont do anything or go all out

also know that I am terrible at reading facial expressions so most of those parts are likely wrong

(under the cut because on google docs it said it was 7 pages long and i am afraid)

virgil looks automatically anxious and frustrated

logan stutters a lot after roman makes the "take off your glasses" joke and i cant tell if hes confused or if hes actually offended by that

what they all say the first time they yell at logan: virgil: "shut up before i shut you up" thomas: "WOAH WOAH WOAH WOAH WOAH" patton: "hey now heeeyy nowww" slowly turning into song

thomas calls virgil "the purp man"

references to Sword and the stone? may refer to something?

second time they yell at logan: virgil: "i'm gonna prohibit your BREATHING if you keep this up" (damn virge calm down) thomas: "please stop please i really dont want to think about it" patton doesnt speak (im pretty sure)

virgil glances at thomas a lot

is it just me or around the time virgil says "we're going to talk about something else now" he starts to sound a lot like deceit? Especially with that "sure"

roman gets easily distracted

"of course you're not a chick. You're a metaphysical human being. A chick is a really ??? girl"

why does remus appear behind the TV?

patton notices remus when saying "evil" virgil notices remus when saying "show up" and his tempest tongue comes in

when roman get knocked out the first time virgil looks at thomas like hes frustrated or annoyed maybe he looks at thomas like that because he thought it was thomas that was to blame for him showing up? since he was the one to have those intrusive thoughts?

also why does remus smack roman with a morning star?

all dark sides wear eye shadow confirmed

also this disproves the theory that all dark sides have a more animalistic features, therefore proving the headcanon that deceit just puts on makeup to look like he has scales on his face because hes dramatic

virgil looks kind of scared right before the song starts

during the song: logan looks done with everything thomas looks scared virgil looks furious and maybe defensive (that snarl tho) patton looks confused

why is patton of all sides to be the one to puke out remus (that's probably not the weirdest line i've written)

Remus considers any creativity that isn't dirty or horrific (aka his stuff) to be dull or boring

I think the A-Z part of the song is a reference to this one song video about the ABCs of ways to die but i have no clue

Even early on in the song when logan says "It's fine" it shows that hes trying to sort this out and get to the problem, but Remus prevents him from continuing, then allows Pat and Virge to say their thoughts

ROMAN CALLS REMUS "BRO" 8 MINUTES IN

"recently a snake offered me a morsel from the tree of knowledge" reference to deceit but also adam and eve

one of deceit's hands is holding a gavel reference to SvS

also deceit wears a coat just sayin

"No longer will you deceive yourself about the ugliness within you" this means that deceit really doesn't want thomas to lie to himself

why is deceit always the one with multiple arms when half his face is a snake? snakes dont have arms

Is remus holding up the mirror to thomas a reference to remus and roman basically being mirror images of each other?

Remus is SO PALE compared to thomas WHICH IS WEIRD CUZ THOMAS IS ALREADY REALLY PALE

I think remus is actually a lot smarter than he seems he knows how to manipulate thomas into believing hes a bad person by using religious topics and language, something that's been with thomas his whole life

also while remus is singing about hell he turns from normal to fully colored green, similar to all the other sides

Virgil looks so disturbed and frustrated after the song

"I'm really stupid right now" MOOD

when remus agrees with thomas that roman's his creativity he's just like "yeah...." SIBLING RELATIONSHIPS TO A T

Virgil and Remus argue like they know each other super well

Patton's so pure he doesn't even like to say "B-hole" precious dad

Remus uses words that have been said before to back himself up "Why do you want to stifle your own creativity, thomas?" 12 Days of Christmas: "We shouldn't stifle Roman's creative whimsy!" also all the other times roman's admitted to feeling ignored

Virgil's so uncomfortable he might have been afraid that remus would outright say that hes a dark side (bc honestly remus seems like the kind of guy to do that)

Why does remus like Jeffery Dommer so much?

also when remus turned his head to the side at about 10:30 the music matches and sounds like hes cracking his neck

Remus gets confused for a moment when Logan takes his "lot of good that did him!" seriously this seems to be a recurring theme throughout all the dark sides: them being confused by logan taking things literally You think I'm joking? I'm not Virgil early on gets frustrated that logan seems to "only take what he says literally" and I'm pretty sure I remember some time where deceit has to stop to process the fact that logan took one of his metaphors seriously

LOGAN IS A PSYCHOLOGY NERD AND WOULD LIKELY BE A PRETTY DECENT THERAPIST. YOU CAN NOT CHANGE MY MIND

Patton looks so scared when logan asks him to do the experiment. Hes like "what? what do you need me for? what's going on?"

virgil looks so tired and annoyed when he says "good save"

LOGAN GIVING OUT VALIDATION TO PATTON AND THEN LATER TO VIRGIL IS ADORABLE

wait does virgil blow at his bangs whenever he's really annoyed or anxious? because he did that in moving on part 2 while he was dealing with his panic attack in pattons room and then in this episode where he is clearly anxious throughout the whole thing

"No mommy I dont want the mashed potatoes" ROMAN HAS A MOM WHICH MEANS THAT REMUS HAS A MOM BUT WHO TF IS THEIR MOM

when thomas calls remus scary and he responds with that it sounds like a virgil problem Virgil glares at him so clearly defensive and angry remus just smiles like "yeah, i know whats going on"

virgil's the only one who doesnt suspect logan to be deceit when remus claims it

you know when everyone was creating theories about who romans counterpart would be and everyone was expecting them to be extremely elegant and suave? yeah, why the fuck did we think that? If the dark sides are like mirror images of the light sides, then of course remus would be this chaotic demon with literally no elegance whatsoever roman's the elegant, romantic, graceful prince, so of course whatever remus is would be his opposite

Cane and Abel - another biblical reference

also after remus says that virgil looks like hes confused or maybe just deep in thought about something

self-immolate means to set fire to yourself i had to look it up too remus literally wants thomas to strip, set himself on fire and play shake it off

despite all the biblical references reeling thomas in, remus is sooo bad at getting his point across "and then the baby...dies" "AND NO ONE SURVIVES"

a demented version of that "hallelujah" thing plays while hes talking about the baby bird and the airplane

"I am YOUR creativity" at that it flashes to Virgil, who looks like hes thinking about it. probably a sort of build-up to show how long virgil thinks about it before admitting that remus had a point

virgil looks so nervous when remus says that hes never been one to soften the truth

"why would you aspire to be so...boring?" (i feel like the word aspire there is important for some reason)

patton tries so hard to believe that thomas is a good person to the point where he ignores logic

THAT TURN TO LOGAN REMUS DOES IS SO FRICKIN TERRIFYING

it seems like both remus and deceit seem to understand that logan is the most dangerous for them remus threatens logan to try and get him to stop talking deceit chucks logan to the very back of the courtroom in SvS

"TURN INTO A GHOST" "TURN INTO THE HULK"

"I merely gave him a baby...AND A LARGE SHARP KNIFE" ME

"one of you is enough!" I wonder how that line affected Virgil? since it's possible that at this time he was already doubting whether or not hes really grown

PATTON LITERALLY DOESN'T KNOW WHAT REPRESSION IS

that voice-crack when virgil says "But what if he's lying?" That might show how he feels about lying and deceit a bit more. he might be terrified at the thought of being lied to

paranoid is definitely a really bad word to virgil and the others know it. virgil and patton turn to look at logan the moment he says it, and logan freezes for a moment to change it into something better

when both virge and remus say "but what about jeffery dommer" virgil just looks so scared, his eyes darting around as if his mind is racing, probably worried that he really hasnt grown

they keep referring back to "that can't be where the bar is"

Logan says "figuratively" to stop Remus

"I LOVE BEING GIVEN TWO D's AT ONCE"

Virgil looks so afraid that he's still the bad guy in this its so sad

both patton and virgil laugh at poop jokes they are 29— they are very mature adults

"I would never hide anything from you" *glances at virgil* I feel like that might have been the moment virgil realized he couldn't just hide him being a dark side much longer

THEY DON'T EVEN LOOKED SCARED WHEN REMUS SCREAMED THEY JUST LOOKED ANNOYED

as the vid goes on remus tries more and more to be noticed

why did logan ask virgil how thomas was feeling instead of patton? was it because he knew thomas was really anxious or because he felt like patton would claim that he was feeling fine?

while everyone's calming down during logan's lecture, virgil just seems to grow more and more anxious, since he knows that he'll probably have to tell thomas that hes a dark side

thomas and virgil STILL dont want to go to a therapist

virgil just looks so guilty when thomas decides to lie down on the couch

"It was just like old times" when remus says that patton and logan just look so mad that he would say that

after that logan glances up at virgil to see how he feels aww

VIRGIL'S SMILE WHEN ROMAN GETS BACK UP IS SO UNSURE YET SO HOPEFUL AT THE SAME TIME

everyone just looks so proud of logan awww

virgil sounds so lost when hes about to reveal himself

he never calls them "the dark sides", just "the others"

virgil looks on the verge of tears when he says "because i was one of them". it shows how much this affects him, and how terrified he is to tell thomas. this is even more terrifying to him than telling them his name, which was shown to be an important thing to him

and afterwards thomas just goes silent, and looks so lost and confused, maybe even betrayed. he clearly needed a moment to think before saying anything

then virgil shrugs and leaves, his eyes red and full of tears, probably too scared to stay any longer

once he leaves thomas just stares at the ground processing the information

i’m bad at theorizing and my thoughts are a mess rn so all of this is probably complete shit

#sanders sides #ts spoilers #tw remus #tw duke #cursing #what i do when theorizing is write down my thoughts the moment i have them and dont look back

[abadoodlesss]

Sometimes The Job’s Worth It - Chapter Six

Read previous chapters here

Next Chapter

Summary: Finally, we make it to the bunker, of course not without a few bumps in the road/some life-altering news for Jane.

A/N: There’s going to be a kind of drastic canon divergence because I came up with his story before really thinking about if it works within the rules set by the SPN canon. Instead of waiting to post and trying to come up with a new plot/spoiling the whole series for myself by doing too much research (quick thanks to @winchesters-favorite-girl for answering my question so I didn’t have to get major spoilers), I’m sticking with my original plan even if it breaks a few rules. I hope you can forgive me 😅😅 

Fourteen hours.

From the dingy motel in Ohio to the bunker in Kansas.

Jane was stuffed in the backseat of the Impala, squished between the boy’s duffle bags and her own luggage for thirteen hours so far. Only another hour to go, but it felt like an eternity. She was ready to kill someone, possibly herself at this point, as the wheel from her luggage whacked into her temple for the thousandth time.

Dean had insisted that they drive straight to the bunker, only taking breaks for food and the bathroom. He sat now in the driver's seat, slightly regretting that decision as he stared intently at the road, trying to keep his eyes open. He refused to let Sam drive, even for a few hours. Dean just wanted to get everyone to the bunker as soon as he could.

His eyelids were starting to flutter closed. He quickly shook his head, refocusing on the road rather than how tired he felt. Dean didn’t sleep well last night. There was something in the pit of his stomach, a queasy feeling that kept him tossing and turning for a few hours before he was able to fall asleep.

A yawn slipped past his lips. He let his heavy eyelids close just for a moment.

It was either Sam and Jane’s yelling or the honking from another car that caused Dean to shoot up and swerve the Impala back into the right lane.

“Holy shit.” Sam muttered under his breath. “Pull over.” He demanded.

“I’m fine.” Dean insisted but with one look at Sam’s Bitch Face™, he complied.

Dean pulled over onto the side of the road, rubbing the tiredness away from his eyes.

“You need a break.” Sam said, opening the door so he could switch seats with Dean.

“I’m fine, Sammy.” Dean growled back, gripping the steering wheel tighter as he blew out a breath.

Sam scowled. He knew something was up with Dean. He was acting slightly jumpy and a little more gruff than usual. He was so focused on the road, barely wanting to take breaks. It seemed like Dean was trying to hurry, what for, Sam didn’t know.

“Well, I could use a break.” Jane called from the backseat. “Can we stop somewhere, get something to eat?” “Yeah, I could use a stretch.” Sam added.

“We’ll be at the bunker in less than an hour.” Dean said.

“I’m going to die of starvation if I don’t get some chips in this stomach.” Jane cried.

“You can wait forty minutes, I promise.”

“This is child abuse.” She grumbled

“Alright, fine, quick stop at the next gas station.” Dean said, defeated, throwing Baby into drive and heading back down the road.

“And then I drive.” Sam added.

“I really am fine, Sam, just a little tired.”

Sam looked unconvinced but dropped the subject. “Alright, just find a gas station before Jane eats her own arm off.”

Jane was perusing the candy aisle as Dean searched for some snacks, Sam trailing behind him.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Dean could tell Sam was staring at him. He looked like he was trying to decode something important, concerned and confused yet determined. Dean decided to ignore the look, rather focusing on what bag of chips he wanted.

“Are you alright?” Sam asked after a few moments of staring.

Dean sighed. “How many times have I told you I’m fine?”

“You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not lying, Sam.”

“You are, which is more concerning because I know you’re hiding something.”

Dean didn’t see a reason to keep things from Sam anymore. Sam would eventually wear Dean to the point where it’s just easier to tell the truth than to deal with his incessant questions and worry.

Scanning over to the top of the aisles of the convenience store, Dean found Jane was perfectly out of earshot, deciding between a bag of pretzels or cookies.

“It’s Jane.” He admitted, turning to Sam.

“What about her?”

“Something’s going on.”

“Want to try being less vague?”

He didn’t want to be specific. He didn’t want to be right.

“It’s just the demon attacks, I mean twice now in just a few days…”

“Dean I told you, our life is dangerous and you decided to wanted to drag Jane into it. We’re going to have to accept that-”

“No, Sam, I think they’re targeting her.”

“Haven’t you learned by now, Dean? When people get close to us- You see this is why I didn’t want-”

“No, this isn’t about us. They were coming for Jane before she even knew who we were.”

“I think you’re thinking too far into this Dean. I mean, what would they even really want from Jane? She’s just a normal girl, like everybody else.”

“I know, I just- I want to get to the bunker and-”

The bell above the door to the gas station gave a cheerful ring, interrupting Dean’s sentence.

A petite woman walked into the convenience store. She was wearing a large coat, the fur lined hood covering the majority of her face. The woman stood on the doormat, scanning the store quickly before her form rippled and she was suddenly in the same aisle as Jane.

Dean was sprinting before Jane even noticed the woman.

“Hi, Janie.” The woman called, taking off her hood.

Jane turned, dropping the bag of chips in her hand as she came face to face with the same demon woman that attacked her last night. The woman grabbed Jane’s arm with a wicked smile as Dean skidded into the aisle.

“Back off demon bitch.” Dean said, firing three bullets into the arm grasping onto Jane.

It wasn’t enough to kill the demon, but it was just enough to make her draw her arm back in surprise, giving Jane the chance to rip her arm away. She ran behind Dean as Sam came into the aisle, throwing Jane behind him as well.

The teenage boy sweeping the floor let out a slew expletives as he ducked behind a display of candy canes. “I-I’m gonna call the cops if you don’t get out of here.” He called from his hiding spot, his voice wavering.

The demon woman - Christine, as Dean knew her - rolled her eyes. She flung the poor boy against the wall, leaving him to crumple on the ground with a groan.

Sam broke away from his brother to attend to the boy laying limply on the ground. He dragged the boy behind the counter, checking to make sure the kid was still breathing.

Dean kept his gun trained on Christine, though he knew it wouldn’t do much good if it really came down to it. Jane stood behind him, clutching onto the back of his jacket, her hand had a slight tremor in it.

“Why don’t we make this easier on everybody? Just hand over Janie and I’ll be on my way.”

Jane’s grip tightened on his jacket as she cowered behind him. All Dean wanted to do was assure her everything was going to be fine, but he wasn’t too sure himself.

“What do you want with her?” He asked as Christine came forward, unafraid of the puny gun trained at her.

She disappeared from Dean’s sight, appeared behind Jane, twirling her finger around a lock of Jane’s hair. “She’s a very special girl.” She said, circling around the two. “Very useful.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jane asked, finding just enough courage to speak up.

“You, sweetheart, are destined for very great things.”

“She’s not apart of anything you’re plotting, bitch.”

“Oh but she is. Janie here has very special blood coursing through her veins. The blood of Cain and Abel.”

Dean’s heart dropped for a second. He knew demons weren’t the most trustworthy, but if she was telling the truth, the implications were catastrophic.

“She’s not a Winchester.” Dean said, praying for a moment that what he was saying was actually true. Jane deserved better than being a Winchester.

“How self centered of you, Dean. You don’t have to be a Winchester to be a descendant of Cain or Abel.”

Jane came out from behind Dean. “What does that mean?” She asked hesitantly.

“Jane.” Dean warned trying to step in front of her but she wasn’t listening.

“Let the girl speak, Dean.” Christine said, flinging Dean into the shelves.

“Dean!” Jane cried, afraid to move but desperately wanting to help Dean up. The demon stalked closer. Jane felt herself freeze.

“Your blood it very special. You have to power to be the vessel of someone very important.”

“What-”

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus. Adiuramus te, cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae perditionis venenum propinare.” Sam’s voice projected around the store. He sat behind the counter using a phone from the wall to call over the intercom.

The demon’s mouth opened wide as she let out a pained scream, a cloud of black smoke shooting out and flying away.

Sam flung himself back over the counter, coming to Dean’s side.

“I’m fine.” Dean said as he got up with a groan. He cradled his right arm to his chest as he winched.

“What the actual fuck just happened?” The boy asked, groggily peeking over the counter.

“I’d like to ask the same thing.” Jane said.

“Let’s just get to the bunker first, okay.”

It wasn’t really okay. Jane had questions buzzing around in her mind. Everything the female demon said confused her but also spiked her curiosity. What did any of it mean?

She internalized her thoughts as the three of them left the convenience store, Dean checking one final time if the cashier boy was alright.

She sat silently in the back of the Impala, squished again with an uneasy feeling in her stomach.

They arrived outside of the bunker. Sam and Dean grabbed their bags, taking out Jane’s luggage while she looked at the scene before her.

She climbed out of the car at looked up at the looming brick and concrete building.

Dean came beside her, handing Jane her luggage. “Let’s head inside.” He said, making his way to a short staircase that led down to a door.

“Wait this is actually like an underground bunker?” Jane asked. When they told her about the bunker she assumed it was just a safe place, not an actual underground concrete box underground. She had seen war movies of compact, cold, claustrophobic rooms with bunk beds and no space. The idea of living in such a small space made her a bit anxious.

“You coming?” Sam asked. Dean was already inside but Jane had just been staring at the door.

She grabbed onto her luggage and followed behind Sam. It couldn’t be too bad.  

Walking inside, Jane forgot bad was even in her vocabulary. The place was extraordinary, not to mention massive.

“Let’s go find you a bedroom.” Dean said, leading Jane past everything she wanted to explore. Sam tagged along, promising to give Jane a full tour afterward.

They came to a long hallway with hundred of doors.

“That one’s mine.” Dean said, dropping his bag in front of his bedroom door.

“And mine’s down there.” Sam said, pointing a few doors down.

“Besides that though, you can pick any one you want.” And she did. Jane chose a door an equal distance from both Sam and Dean. 

Opening the door she found a rather plain room. A queen sized bed was centered against the back wall. The walls were painted beige and there was a single dresser on the right wall, opposite a closet door.

“It’s a bit plain, but you’ll have time to make it all your own.”

Dean wasn’t wrong, the room was boring, but it was hers. She had a place to call her own. After traveling from motel to motel or spending hours in the Impala, it felt nice to have a place to really live in, to have privacy in. It was almost strange to her though, to have a bedroom again. To have a place that functioned as a home again. To be apart of a semi-normal family again.

“It’s perfect!” Jane said, running into the room and jumping onto her new bed. “Finally, I have some space!” She said, spreading out her limbs.

The brother’s chuckled from the doorway. “I’m glad you like it.”

Jane sat up. “Thank you, guys.” She said softly, feeling overwhelmed at the moment at the idea that her life was getting back to normal but also that it was so different. She was thankful though, she knew she could be in much worse places but she was lucky enough to have the Winchesters. “I honestly owe you so much.”

“Don’t sweat it, kid.” Dean said, dismissing her gratitude that he always felt like he didn’t deserve.

“No really. I don’t know where I’d be right now without you guys. Probably dead but you keep me safe and you care about me and” She was getting a little choked up. “Sorry.” She said with a sniffle and a laugh. “I’m being so dramatic. I just appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

Dean’s chest felt warm, like his heart was swelling. He was happy Jane was happy. But there was the underlying feeling that he shouldn’t be so happy. Jane didn’t know how bad their lives got. She didn’t understand that her life would, in turn, be the same disaster filled existence.

“I think you’re gonna make Dean cry.” Sam said, partially trying to deflect attention from himself as he was sort of moved by what Jane said.

“Yeah, no chick flick moments in this family.” Dean joked.

He saw Jane’s eyes shine when she heard the word family. God did she deserve a much better family than the Winchesters. She deserved the world but the Winchesters could only offer inevitable heartbreak. One way or another, the universe was going to ruin what little joy Jane brought to the boys. That’s how it works. When you get closer to the boys you get closer to disaster.  

“Right, I solemnly swear to only have action movie moments.” Jane said, rolling off the bed and coming to stand with the boys. “Now, take me on the most badass of tours, man.”

“Language.” The boys scolded.  

“What? You want PG rated action movie moments?”

Sam rolled his eyes as he gave a chuckle. “Let’s get moving, kid.” He said, giving her a little shove down the hallway to start the tour.

Dean’s phone started ringing. He checked the caller ID on his phone.

Castiel.

“I’ll catch up in a second.” Dean called. “Show her the library without me so I don’t have to watch you geek out.”

Sam and Jane left him behind, heading for the library Sam loved so much. Dean smiled at the pair as they retreated down the hallway, Jane failing to keep up with Sam’s long strides.

He turned his attention back to his phone and accepted the call with a hint of worry.

“Hello? Dean?”

“Yeah, it’s me Cas. Is everything alright?”

“Not exactly, no. But this is a matter better discussed in person. Where are you?”

“The Bunker. Wh-whats going on?”

“It’s Jane.”

Of course.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #castiel #OC #reader #winchester sister #winchester daughter #dean x reader #sam x reader #castiel x reader #in a platonic kind of way #demons #angels

[sonofhistory]

Things that happened during Andrew Jackson’s presidencies:

At Jackson’s inauguration, Francis Scott Key yelled, “It is beautiful! It is sublime!” (He was talking about Jackson).

After the inauguration, a large mob followed Jackson back to the White House, all crammed themselves through the doors and drank all of the alcoholic punch; this of course caused all the party goers to get drunk, trash the downstairs and Jackson’s aides had to make a protective ring around him. The quick thinking slaves of the White House then grabbed all of the punch and moved it onto the White House lawn and there were still people lying hungover all over the green when morning broke.

All them cabinet sexual scandals *sips tea*.

Floride Calhoun not returning Margaret Eaton’s call at her home because “I ain’t gonna talk to no hoes.” and furthering the already growing sex scandal.

Jackson suffering from hemorages and never calling for a doctor and just sticking his own penknife into his arm and bleeding himself.

Everyone starting a rumor that “the soft hand of Mr. Van Buren touched [secretary of war’s wife] Mrs. Eaton’s knocker.”

Jackson telling his cabinet “Gentlemen, do what you please in my house, I am going to church.”

Jackson calling everyone who supported Clay “minions”.

At a hotel one morning after a big party hosted by the British minister, Margaret Eaton brushed past the minister the night prior, pretendinh not to know him and he remarked at the table “she had already forgotten the time when I slept with her.”

The postmaster of Albany, New York, War of 1812 veteran General Solomon Van Rensselaer was going to be fired and to save his job Van Rensselaer showed up at the White House and went directly up to Jackson. He pleaded not to be fired and Jackson said another. Van Rensselaer grew even more desparate and began striping off all of his clothes  and Jackson yelled at him. Van Rensselaer, nearly naked said, “Well, sir, I am going to show you my wounds, which I received in fighting for my country against the English!”. Jackson actually started crying as a journalist noted and the next day in the cabinet when the moved to vote on firing the veteran, Jackson flung his pipe away and yelled at them all. Van Rensselaer wasn’t fired.

The White House butler, Jimmy O’Neal being a drink and one time when Jimmy didn’t answer his calling, Jackson said, “Where can Jimmy be?” “Drunk most likely” was what his nephew responded.

First Lady take over (because Rachel Jackson died) Emily Donelson giving birth a second child, first daughter Mary Rachel in the White House and Jackson calling her “the Sushine of the White House.”

At a dinner given by Martin Van Buren, he went downstairs to take a nap but shot awake from he was told there was a fight upstairs. The fight was between the wife of the secretary of war and the wife of the commanding general of the U.S. Army--all because they had bumped into each other.

When Mary Rachel was baptized in the blue room, her godparents (one of whom was Van Buren) were supposed to repeat a prayer but the godmother and himself did not have the chance to answer but Jackson jumped in and interrupted them by saying the words even if he had no speaking part in the ceromony.

On a ride with Van Buren, Jackson’s horse slipped and Van Buren quickly grabbed his the bridle of his horse and Jackson then shouted, “You have possibly saved my life, sir!”. Moments earlier, Van Buren was about to announce his resignation as Secretary of State.

At the cabinet break up, the former secretary of treasury and war (Eaton and Ingham) almost got into a duel and Eaton rose up a group that kept chasing Ingham around Washington trying to kill him.

“The Bank, Mr. Van Buren, is trying to kill me, but I will kill it.”

Jackson being called King Andrew the First by his enemies/opposers.

During the nullification debate, senators had to walk past a sign that said, “GENTLEMEN WILL BE PLEASED NOT TO PLACE THEIR FEET ON THE BOARDS IN FRONT OF THE GALLERY, AS THE DIRT FROM THEM FALLS UPON SENATOR’S HEADS.”

Wednesday, May 1st, 1833, Jackson observed in a letter that “the tariff was only the pretext, and disunion and southern confederacy the real object. The next pretext will be the negro, or slavery questions.” Six days later, the president named a new postmaster for New Salem, Illinois, a twenty-four year old lawyer who was a Clay man--and Abraham Lincoln was happy to accept the appointment.

Monday, May 6th, 1833, the presidential party was on a steamboat to Virginia, when a former navy officer, Robert B. Randolph, came through the crowd aboard the vessel. Randolph leaped at the president to attack him buy Andrew Donelson lunged at Jackson  and two others tackled the guy to the ground. Jackson’s face wad bloodied and everyone was in horror at what had happened--Jackson simply pretended it never happened.

Parents in the Northeast would bring up the name Andrew Jackson when their children misbehaved. According to a New England Sunday school teacher, she asked a student who killed Abel. A boy students rose from his desk and answered “General Jackson.”

Someone drew a political cartoon of Henry Claw sewing Andre Jackson’s mouth shut and his knee his holding him down on his crotch.

Jackson’s house burning down and him asking if the china was okay.

January 30th, 1835, Jackson was walking out of a funeral in the House Chamber for congressman Warren R. Davis of North Carolina. He was with the secretary of treasury and navy when all the sudden a figure emerged from the crowd producing a gun, standing less than ten feet from Jackson he shot off the gun but to his shock it misfired. The derranged man then ripped out another gun but this also misfired. Jackson then lunged forward, barring his cane and landed upon the man, beating him into the ground with his cane. He never stopped, he actually had to be pulled off of the injured man. The chance of two guns misfiring without any damage is 125,000 to one. Even bullets are scared of him.

Christmas 1835, Martin Van Buren lost a game of tag with Jackson’s grandchildren and was forced to stand on one leg and say: “Here I stand all ragged and dirty, if you don’t kiss me I’ll run like a turkey!” No one kissed him and the now vice president was forced to strut around the room like the bird to everyone’s laughter at the dinner table.

Jackson dreamed of Emily Donelson’s death the night that it happened--she was only twenty-nine and her husband was a day away, traveling home.

#pressles musing #american history #us history #history #andrew jackson #martin van buren #andrew donelson #emily donelson #margaret eaton #henry clay #john c calhoun

[quentatan]

And Hell Followed

We are not body. We are not mind. We are not soul. We are many. We are one. For peace. For prosperity. We are the Ten.

“Dirt, two mikes.” The warning cut through the silence. Some people were praying, some were running sight diagnostics. Most of them were stretching; winning wars is limber work.

The Gargoyle gunners were working hard. Even through the ship’s filters, there was a hint of ozone, and the heavy coilguns were rocking every few seconds. The troop bay was filled with a vibration that was one part gyrodrives, one part repeaters laying down the hate.

“Dirt in thirty.”

Captain Remus was at the ramp, rifle in hand. Everyone pinged green.

“Para Mars,” he commed. In his ears a hundred voices replied.

“Para Sol.”

“Victory or death.”

The ramps dropped, revealing a relatively calm suburban street. Omega poured out, clearing the nearest houses. Maradon hardly seemed like a warzone.

Orcus, this is Santa Claus. Ten seconds. Ho ho ho. Over.

“Christmas is coming. Ten seconds.”

It was a beautiful house. Maybe it qualified as a mansion? Either way there were shells thumping out of it every few seconds. So they were clearing out artillery in the suburbs the old-fashioned way with ground pounders. Well... It didn’t seem fair to call a pulsebeam “old-fashioned”, but scopes were picking up way too many MGs to be fun. So Albert Remus did what any sane man would do. He called in gunships to destroy the pretty mansion.

The seconds counted down and... now it was rubble. Missiles. It was like getting coal under the tree.

“Three bravo, get the brass a BDA, would you?”

“We’re on it, sir.”

Orcus, this is Rampart. Relay Whitewolf. Over.

Rampart, this is Orcus actual. Send relay. over.

Nice house for a FOB. Grid romeo victory alpha tango five six six three zero four seven three two zero. How copy? Over.

Solid copy. Relay violet. Over.

Relay violet. Out.

“Three bravo how’s that piece of paper?”

“Five letters, sir.”

“Alright gents, we’re dusting off, five mikes. PLs on me.”

This house was not particularly beautiful. It did have lots of concrete and was technically not a house. It wasn’t clear what it had been, but it had a large walled yard and some gantries. Whitewolf was hanging out with a few locals when they arrived. It was admittedly odd, but they had stacked bags of concrete for the gantries.

The civilians, it turned out, were a bunch of cops and firefighters. Apparently the Dominion wasn’t too popular in the area of New Vladisgrad.

“Coalition troops, mostly Dominion regulars, hold the city west of MSR Zebra. North of ASR Gazelle are some Earth boys, but main lines are primarily further north at Rittersburg. Rampart has seven divisions pushing west up there. Down here, not much going on. There are some militia south and west of the city, mostly supporting the coalies. Most of the militia from the eastern and northern suburbs are working with these fine ladies and gentlemen of the Asprenova County Sheriff and Fire Departments. We’re here to slowly drive the ‘equatorial scum’ out of their fine city. They will in turn either convince their crosstown cousins to join us or kill them.”

“So... hit and run, some counterinsurgency, until Dominion lines around the capital collapse?”

“Bingo, Al.”

“What are we calling our fancy new abandoned factory?”

“Figured I’d leave it to you. I already got to name the highways.”

“I like Gondolin.”

“You fucking nerd.”

“Shit yeah.”

Three months and nothing had moved. Far to their north, three Commonwealth divisions were stalled in Marsgorod City. To their north, a hundred thousand Ardans were slowly advancing through the Trotsky archipelago. On the far side of the planet, the Carolans were slugging it out in the industrial cities of Novyarkhankhgelsk. The last Dominion orbital stations had fallen last month, but they’d withdrawn their last ships to atmosphere. They still had corvettes running supplies, and loyalists had turned their cities into fortresses. Short of burning civilians out, there wasn’t a way of effectively grounding the Maradonians or silencing their SAMs.

So here we are. At the far end of a thousand miles of Solar troops and some local militia. Sniping across a highway until somebody else moves.

Seven months, we’re still here but things are finally moving. Ardans cleared the Troskies, so three of their divisions are crossing the pole and the other two are coming south.

“Rampart wants to turn their flanks. The Carolans are going to make a concentrated push and try to simply shatter resistance in Novy. The capital metro is too thick though, so the other two Ardan divisions are hitting the north coast. Fourth and Seventh IXIDs are joining the fray as well, coming down over the Transverse Sea, respectively Novy and Koberezh. At the same time, our brothers in the First are shifting to our immediate northern flank.

“Our Apsrenovan friends will be on the southern flank. Our task is to punch a hole through enemy lines west of MSR Zebra. First Expeditioners, reinforced by additional Asprenovan militia, will advance through the northern suburbs to sweep everything to our north. We expect Dominion units to begin withdrawing west and north after that. Hope is, we chase them all the way to Rittersburg where we link up with Fourteenth Ten and cut off militia and guerilla units on the peninsula. From there, we detach to rejoin the Asprenovans and clear out those cut off units while the regulars do the dirty up north. You should have maps on HUD. Any questions?”

“Whitewolf?”

“The ORCA will be infiltrating ahead of time, make sure we don’t run into any surprises and provide a little distraction. Checking your maps, gridzone RVAT 564 475, there’s an apartment building and a small metro station. Belief is enemy have been stockpiling missiles in the station and have an access tunnel to the apartments. Whitewolf are going to blow the station somehow just as we’re crossing the MSR. Santa Claus takes care of the bad guys.”

So we’re a few hours into Operation Reacharound and shit’s further south than we are. Whitewolf blew the metro station and a shitload of ordnance in it, and we’re all safely on the west side of New Vladisgrad. The Fourth Imperial Division made landfall in Novy easy enough and met up with the Carolans, so even though the equatorial skies are still contested, major industrial capacity is cut off.

The probems are to our north. We connected with 1/1 and pushed Coalition regulars out of the city, but lasers out of Rittersburg hit our gunships pretty hard. So their southern flank is anchored at Rittersburg. The problem with that is the failure of Seventh IXID, who are strung out in West Koberezh but held there. Ardan Third Corps is similarly situated along the North Coast.

What it looks like is that instead of shifting weapons to Novy, the Coalies were shifting personnel back here. The only upsides are that the Fourth Imperials are joining Seventh, and the Asprenova Peninsula is cut off. Rittersburg is strongly defended, but we have it surrounded on three sides.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the news out of Eastern Marsgorod.”

Clement sneered. “Fucking barbaric.”

“Well, it brings our casualties into the hundreds of thousands, but it gives us one advantage.”

“Alan, how the hell is there an upside to those cunts dropping a city on our men?” Hadrian pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Two words: better scopes.”

Some of the gathered officers whispered to each other. Most of them were still staring at the live images out of the city. Clouds of dust where there had been skyscrapers and several Allied divisions. Coszic looked up at the young general. “I like it.”

“They started this. We need to finish it.”

The whispers quieted. Alan Young was right in more ways than one. This ward had dragged on for longer even than some of them had served. Thousands of cities had burned and millions were dead. Back home, images of the Midworlds alight with pulsebeams and lasers were causing horror. Replacements were told stories of “fire like a flood”, and planets turned to ash. It wasn’t all that hyperbolic. Still, nothing they’d seen compared to Maradon. It had been rather sedate when it began, but Dominion forces had rapidly solidified their lines and bogged down several dozen Allied divisions on the continent of Komelsk.

Viktr broke the silence. He was the only one who had served through the whole bloody affair. His cousin Michael had fallen in the first wave of attacks and scarcely a week later he and Olympia had been over this very planet, probing its defensive and crippling half a dozen cruisers in the process. He’d been over New Folsom when they got Solars out. When Regus Secundus fell, it was his fleet in orbit. It was by his command that the attacks on Maradon had been methodical, cautious. He’d seen more bloodshed than his entire staff combined.

“My cousin is young and he is rash. Burn them until the survivors surrender.”

“My lord,” Clement and Wyzowscky bowed. Coszic just smiled. The man had a disturbing amount of enthusiasm for overwhelming force.

The officers began to shuffle out. Clement and Coszic were discussing details with Alan while Viktr stood quiet.

“Tell them first. Tell them that hell is coming.”

Casanova, Cane and Abel were sitting in the troop bay of a Gargoyle as it flew into Marsgorod. The city was covered in ash, block-sized chunks seemingly plucked from it. Transports and gunships buzzed around them. There were still weapons discharging here and there, but most of the Dominion troops in the city were gathered at sports stadiums and airports to formally surrender.

“Fuck man...”

“Talk about laying down the hate.”

Marlin sidled up but didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. They were all thinking the same thing.

And I beheld a pale horse, its rider was named Death, and Hell followed behind him. Revelation 6:8a

[howieabel]

Canto III – Incarceration

This is the anthem of Eugene V – The tired, the poor, the huddled masses yearning to breathe free – They treat them as they treat me.

“Eugene! You awake?”, is the morning greeting from my cellmate known as ‘Killer Keating’. He killed a man a month for many years with no remorse and fewer tears, but that was sixty years ago and now you wouldn’t even know, but he told me over cards and chess as if he was a neutral witness.

He’s not a man, but just a creature, as all men here become, for some didn’t reach the rank of caesar, thus are punished for what they’ve done.

Or so they say, its hard to know, if justice looks like this, a cancer-ridden rotting dad who doesn’t know his kids,

And if this is justice done what purpose does it serve to lock him in a cell for life – If it’s what he deserves?

Who does justice work towards? The victim, or their children? If victim, simply cut his throat, If child, make him a citizen. For justice has one enemy – Its name is love and truth who knows well the worthless remedy: eye for eye or tooth for tooth.

But don’t trust him, he’s just a killer, and don’t trust me, i’m just a prisoner – prisoner number eight-hundred and fifteen – and Keating said this to me in the canteen:

“I went to university from the lectern of this cell. I could not hear my brother’s voice but only heard church bells.

They rang to say that I should pray as a servant of God’s piety, for I wore chains to justify this death knell called ‘society’, where men are shut within a cage in the name of just propriety, far away from the world’s split stage and further away from its banditry. As long as there are men in chains, the jail-cell is my holy church. Trust me friend, if you cut my veins, you’d see the blood you know, and if you followed to the source those sacred vessels, you’d remember where they flow.”

He said this as he ate some beans on toast, and an ounce or two of meat, half a cup of vegetables and porridge made from wheat.

He ate like I filled my car with petrol when I was on the other side, waiting for a gauge to fill to have another ride.

But then John Ashley sauntered up and sat beside old Keating, he was known as ‘Thieving Ash’ and bid us his best greetings.

Thieving Ash was on cloud nine, as happy as a flea in a doghouse, he was living in a fool’s paradise and this prison was his louse house.

He’d never made so many friends as he had made in jail, and he said when they broke free one-day they’d send each other mail.

He said it once more for Keating who couldn’t hear a word, then stood on our table and screamed to all, “This whole thing is absurd!

“Gluttony for few is famine for many! If property for some then others not a penny! The business man lives from another’s calloused hand. Their minestrone to his chateaubriand!” He gestured to the prison guards who were gathering around him, and full of all the joys of spring he invited them to join him.

Ash had robbed from forty banks and been to fourteen prisons. He gave the money to the many who lived in poor conditions.

Though he rarely stole anything, he loved showing off his skill, but escaping from his prison cell was his all-time favourite thrill.

A heartless criminal on the news, he was just four feet eleven, his frame, petite, his manner, meek, his voice reached seventh heaven.

He hugged the guards, helped cook the food, and cleaned the whole canteen, he saved me from this brutal zoo and named me Eugene V.

He used to be a petty thief but now he was a dreamer, and though you’ll be in disbelief – this man became my teacher.

He had been here for seven years, a long incarceration, and although he never said he knew, it’d be his final destination.

He taught me how to cling to hope within a hopeless cage, for years his laugh reached past the bars where he was dying of aids.

Steel, mortar, brick, and stone, fortified his cell. Sensors, lighting, radars, cameras, made it a living hell.

But still he laughed, and still he smiled, more freely than the rest who in the world beyond the walls wore their Sunday best.

Ash made friends of everyone as he called them by their names. When all knew he was soon to die he found strength to proclaim:

“Prison is a private school, where guards surround the classroom’s walls, corporal punishment if you break their rules and the cane and paddle to be used on all.

We’re forced within a sealed gate and told that if we’re good and wait they’ll free us to society if we but pledge our loyalty.

And maybe then we’ll get a job, a sign of dignity, a mark of pride, such as scrubbing vomit from the lavatories of drunken plutocrats nationwide,

or preparing mass-produced fish massacred for our factories, or slicing endless meat for a beggar’s paltry salary, or brewing coffee in some worldwide chain that doesn’t care to know our names, or changing the tires of some Lamborghini or Ferrari,

or digging holes or trenches to fill with water for a swimming pool, or loading or unloading materials for extracting precious minerals, or taking orders on a phone while taking out another loan: leaving prison, leaving school, it’s wage slavery for all!

Retribution, or rehabilitation? A debate for scholars all across this nation, but the university of crime is just a school for the poor! and we won’t do your chores anymore!” Suddenly this frail man, collapsing from his fever, fell unto the prison floor, and we had lost our leader.

For the first time in his life Killer Keating even cried, everyone saw his tears fall and in chains we were unified.

First there was a rallying call, and then began the slave revolt, the guards looked-on and let us through and helped the courtyard gates unbolt.

We ran out to redeeming sun where joy pushed me to the front. Keating said i’d be first to leave and that we’d have all our lives to grieve,

but now we must send off our friend from the hell that he loved always, with a funeral procession that sets this world ablaze! I believe that when Ash died we felt a lust for freedom. We were filled with a spirit we never thought could reach us sinful heathens.

In the fire of rebellion we were reborn, resurrected with the soul of a phoenix, Our lives were affirmed in the rays of the sun and we appealed to the essence of being.

We were nostalgic for our innocence – for how long I couldn’t say. But I know it’s natural for caged souls to seek the light of day!

And I knew I had a duty to climb the prison wall and love the world in honour of the girl who had lost all.

This is the anthem of Eugene V The homeless, tempest-tost, and wretched refuse of your teeming shore, We will all break free! - Howie Abel, AMERICA: The Anthem of Eugene V – Canto III: Incarceration

http://howieabel.org/index.php/poetry/idealistic-youngsters/america-the-anthem-of-eugene-v/canto-iii-incarceration/

#AMERICA: The Anthem of Eugene V – Canto III: Incarceration #The Anthem of Eugene V #Canto III: Incarceration #Incarceration #Prison #Jail #Anarchism #Socialism #Wall #Trump #Rebellion #Camus #Wage Slavery #Cage #Cell #Society #Prison break #Howie Abel #Abel #Howie