#gonna be real honest most of why i cranked out the first set of situation asks so fast

[silverskye13]

Are situation asks still a thing we can send in

Sure go for it! I'm writing them a lot slower now, but I am still picking away at them.

On that note, if you have a prompt that isn't a situation ask, you're free to send those in as well. If I think I can write something for it [or have time] I will.

#rns asks #anonymous #gonna be real honest most of why i cranked out the first set of situation asks so fast #was because i was Very Ill #so I was doing nothing but writing because thats all i could stand #i am now Much Better so i've been doing other things again #which is why they've fallen by the wayside a bit #that being said though -- i do still like working on them #its just gonna be longer noodling around

[blackssuunn-mandoandyodito]

Tabaco y Brea

Part two

Pairing: Javier Peña x DEA! reader

Rating: M, eventually. Now? PG-13

Words: 3.5k

A/N: well, the first part didn't get many notes but I really love this story. If a single person reads it and likes it, then it's enough for me :)

Warnings: shouting, fighting, swearing, is eating a warning?,jealousy.

Taglist: @dynphomaniac

Part one here

The days passed faster than you would have liked. With so much paperwork added for the Cali mission, you stayed late almost every day. Javi, in an unexpected change of events, stayed with you. He didn't do shit, of course, but his company was comforting. He would softly hum songs sometimes, or get out a book and read it out loud to you. 

The night before, he had been singing the Rocky soundtrack for most of it, turning to Led Zeppelin when he finished. You still remember how after you heard on the radio that John Bonham had been found dead in September 1980, he had left the office for a second and stayed in complete silence outside. 

And then again in December, when they announced they were going to split. You never mentioned it, and you knew he wouldn't admit it even with a gun pointed at his head, but you were sure you had seen a tear run down his cheek. He was a huge fan, apparently.

Tonight, he was reading Cien Años de Soledad (One Hundred Years of Solitude), by Gabriel García Márquez. You loved that author, but you weren't sure if you had ever mentioned it to him. Maybe he knew you enough to figure it out without the need of hearing it straight from your mouth.

"José Arcadio Buendía, que era el hombre más emprendedor que se vería jamás en la aldea, había dispuesto de tal modo la posición de las casas, que desde todas podía llegarse al río y abastecerse de agua con igual esfuerzo, y trazó las calles con tan buen sentido que ninguna casa recibía más sol que otra a la hora del calor." (José Arcadio Buendía, who was the most enterprising man ever to be seen in the village, had set up the placement of the houses in such a way that from all of them one could reach the river and draw water with the same effort, and he had lined up the streets with such good sense that no house got more sun than another during the hot time of day. )

His voice was very soothing to you, even more when he was speaking Spanish. You didn't know if he had noticed, but it got more raspy and deep when he changed languages. It reminded you of the summers spent in México with your father, when he would tell you stories about his childhood in México City or the trips he would do to Nuevo Laredo with your grandma.

He stopped reading for a second and you looked up to see why was that just to find him already staring at you.

"What's wrong?" you asked, not wanting to tell him you were enjoying his reading.

"Do you like this book?"

You nodded, a slight blush spreading in your cheeks. You tended not to give him compliments, his ego was big enough as it was without you contributing, but you figured this one wouldn't hurt.

"He's one of my favorite authors."

He smiled. "I figured"

"You brought that one because you thought I'd like it?"

It was just teasing, of course. You didn't think he'd do such a gesture for you, and the idea of him knowing you so well scared you a little bit.

He ignored you and kept going. " En pocos años, Macondo fue una aldea más ordenada y laboriosa que cualquiera de las conocidas hasta entonces por sus 300 habitantes. Era en verdad una aldea feliz, donde nadie era mayor de treinta años y donde nadie había muerto." (  Within a few years Macondo was a village that was more orderly and hard working than any known until then by its three hundred inhabitants. It was a truly happy village where no one was over thirty years of age and where no one had died.)

You stopped working for a moment, listening to the words he was saying instead. 

Did he know how sexy his voice was? How good he sounded? He was one of the smartest people you knew, and you had been to enough places and met enough people to say that with confidence. His mind was sharp, could run 10 miles per minute if the situation required it.

He noticed you were staring and stopped again. His frown got more pronounced, looking at you intrigued.

"What are you looking at?" his tone was defensive. He didn't like it when you stared at him too long, it felt like you could see straight through him, and there were some things he didn't want you to know.

You shook your head and laughed. "You look tired"

With a shrug, he returned his eyes to the book, but you stretched your arm to stop him. 

"Now what?"

You took the book from his hands and placed a clean sheet of paper from your desk between the pages he had been reading and closed it. With a soft sound, you let it fall on top of the table.

"It's getting late, we should go"

He straightened, surprised. Usually, he was the one to prey you away from all the paperwork. If he didn't stay with you, he would probably find you there still working the next morning.

"You are telling me we should leave?"

You nodded.

"Quick, before I change my mind."

At that, he stood up like a spring and started collecting his things. You chuckled as you saved the files on the drawer and put your jacket on.

"Let's go"

Two days later, he approached you without no greeting and in a very bad mood.

"The gringo's here"

What a great way to start the morning, you thought.

"Weren't we supposed to pick him up or something?"

Javi shook his head. He seemed frustrated, but you didn't know if it was about the arrival of your new partner or something else. With Javi, you could never guess.

His shoulders were tense, the beige suit he was wearing along with the striped tie and his yellow aviators made him look older and more serious. Had he dressed up to meet the new guy? Really?

"I'm gonna meet him outside at the Embassy's parking lot, wait here"

You nodded and kept filling the paperwork for the Cali raid as he left. You were going to take the new guy with you. You couldn't just dump him, he wasn't brought here to sit around and watch from the sidelines.

You just hoped he did his work.

A few minutes passed when you heard a pair of footsteps walking through the corridor.

"We're going to Medellín?"

That definitely wasn't Javi.

You stood up, turning around to the voice at your back. 

You had to suppress a laugh once you took a glance at them.

Their suits were almost the same color, Javi's just a shade darker. Steve Murphy was wearing a light blue shirt along with a navy blue tie, had a mustache similar to Javi's too (but it made him look weird, if you were honest). His hair was dark blonde, combed to one side, and his face gave away a little nervousness. He was also taller than Javi, meaning you had to crank your neck up to meet his eyes.

"Murphy this is Bera. Bera, Murphy." Javi pointed at you as Steve shook your hand. His hold was strong, and he squeezed with enough force to be firm but not enough to hurt you. That came appreciated, every single man who met you always treated you as if you were made of porcelain. 

You glared at Javi and told Steve your real name, then clarified, "But everyone calls me Bera" 

"Bera?" he asked. You smiled in return. 

"Long story, you'll get to know it later"

He smiled too, and they left for the ambassador's office. 

As it was everyone's knowledge at the Embassy, she didn't like Javi very much, so you dealt with it when you had to ask her for something. She had a soft spot for you, you guessed it was because she knew how hard it was to be a woman in this line of work. Maybe she didn't like him because of his methods of getting info, you weren't sure.

Once they got out, Javi stood up behind his desk and started moving the few papers he had there. You wondered how he managed to have such a mess considering he only read intel, made calls and left you with everything else.

"Ahora qué se te perdió Peña?" (What did you loose now Peña?)

He glared at you and kept moving his papers. His actions were getting desperate, frustration from before about who knows what affecting him.

Murphy was looking back and forth between the two of you, standing awkwardly between your desks. You didn't know if he had understood what you said, but judging by his face, you guessed he hadn't.

"Recuerdas la informante de la que te hablé?" (Remember the informant I told you about?"

You rolled your eyes. Of course you remembered, he had been seeing her frequently over the past few weeks. He wasn't one to be constant about his hookups, but apparently, she was good enough to keep a streak with him. He hadn't seen her since you had been staying late, but last night you had left early and he went straight to search for her. You didn't have to be a genius to guess what had happened when he found her.

"Helena Sotomayor?" you asked, venom filling your voice. You didn't have anything against her or what she did, but jealousy wasn't something you could avoid easily, especially if you knew how Javier felt about her.

"Si"  his voice got deeper as he got angrier, "habrá una reunión de narcos en Medellín, y se irá a la fiesta que harán después"

(Yes, there's gonna be a reunion of narcos in Medellín, and she's leaving for the party they're hosting after)

"And what? You can't get another girl for the night?" you snarled, your tone hard and resentful. Steve looked at you with his eyes wide open, subconsciously getting closer to Javi.

"It's not about that!" Javier raised his arms exasperated, "you don't seem to understand. There's gonna be a meeting with different leaders of cartels, and they're surely planning something"

You scoffed, "yeah idiot, I get that! What I mean is what the hell are you searching for that has to do with her?"

Suddenly his back straightened, and you knew you weren't going to like what he was gonna say next.

"I need to fill a visa request for her"

You felt how your face got red and warmth spread through your body, filling it with jealousy and anger. Your eyes crossed with his and suddenly it had turned into yet another one of your fights. So that's what was bothering him. 

Steve looked at Javi, alarmed. 

"Is your informant really a prostitute?"

Javi didn't even look at him, "Everybody works for somebody"

You abruptly stood up and took your jacket off of your chair's back, walking fast towards the exit.

"A dónde carajos vas?" (where the fuck are you going?) he screamed, fisting his hands at his sides.

You turned around and showed him the finger.

"It's none of your fucking business!"

Javier and Steve stood there as you left, stunned. Your heels making a clicking sound that resonated in the office. Javier was used to your fighting and your screaming, it was part of your dynamic, but he didn't understand why you had reacted so bad this time. Sure, he knew you weren't fond of his way of finding intel, but you never really did more than glare or tease. This was new.

"Is it always like this with you two?" Steve asked. Javi moved his head from side to side, crinkling his eyes.

"A little less explosive, but yes"

Steve let out a sigh. This was going to be some long couple of months (or years?) for him, he just knew it.

As you walked, your eyes started to fill with tears, but you didn't know if it was out of rage or hurt. You were not one to cry, so you wiped them before they fell and rounded the corner to the right towards the diner you usually ate at.

Once you crossed the street and rounded another corner to the left, in the middle of the street was a big sign that spelled Salomé in cursive. You got inside and sat down at the table from the corner, taking out the money of your jacket's pocket. Catalina (or Cata), the cute old lady that managed it, smiled at you from the counter and walked towards you. You smiled back, doing your best to conceal your feelings.

"Qué hace mi niña preciosa aqui?" (what is my precious girl doing here?) . Her voice was soft, filled with affection. His tone was motherly and you knew she had noticed something was wrong.

You smiled sadly at her. "Solo tengo hambre"( I'm just hungry )

 Cata immediately sat down in the chair across you and took your hands between hers. She heard something off in your voice, and she didn't like it one bit.

"Ahora qué hizo ese chamaco malcriado?" (What did that spoiled brat do now?) Her tone changed to playful but angry in a matter of seconds, her frown accentuated even more than it already was by her age.

You shook your head, laughing. Cata was also very fond of Javi, but she knew how much of an idiot he could be. Surprisingly, you had met her before he had, one time you were hungry and the food at the Embassy didn't sound very appealing to your ears or stomach.

"Nada Catita, ya sabes cómo es" (Nothing Catita, you know how he is). You tried to smile and she cupped your head between her hands, caressing your face with his thumb. You put your hand above hers and gave it a soft squeeze.

"Qué quiere comer mi niña?" (What do you want to eat my girl?)

A grin spread across your cheeks. "Ajiaco con pollo, porfa." (Ajiaco with chicken, please. it's a typical food in Colombia, commonly found in Bogotá. It consists of shredded chicken, pastusa, sabanera and/or creole potato, corn and maybe cream milk)

She nodded and stood up, sadness forgotten for a moment.

"Con aguacate y arroz aparte?" (with avocado and rice aside?)

You nodded eagerly. "Sabes que si" (you know it)

The curtains hiding the kitchen opened to her as she walked inside to cook your food. Your heart warmed and clenched a little at how much love she showed you every time you came here, how she genuinely cared for you.

The tablecloth was made of white lace, and you passed your fingers through the surface. It felt gritty to the touch, but its beauty completely overshadowed it. Cata had gifted you one to take home once, and it was now decorating your little table at the living room in the apartment.

The noises of Bogotá surrounded you. It was easy to hear children playing and their mothers screaming at them; people selling fruits, clothes, arguing and laughing. People doing their best to keep living, even with the crisis they were dealing with, the number of narcos that were raising and how much hell they were surely about to unleash in this beautiful country.

 It was your job to stop them, to do your best at helping these people get their normal lives back. 

The sound of Cata approaching took you out of your thoughts.

"Aquí está mi dulce niña, justo como le gusta" (here it is my sweet girl, just how you like it)

You took the plate of food and tilted your head, thankful. "Gracias Cata" (thank you Cata)

You quickly set your spoon to the food and as you took the first bite, everything you were worried about banished for a second. Javier, the DEA, Escobar, Steve, everything flew out the window.

That's why you had come, because everything could be forgotten for a moment if you choose the right dish to stuff your mouth with.

Cata laughed at your eagerness, patting your shoulder with her soft hand. "Tranquilícese muñequita, que la comida no se le va a ir" (Calm down little doll, the food is not going to get away)

With your mouth full you could only nod, giving her an apologetic smile. She shook her head, eyes soft as they looked at you.

The rest of your meal was spent in silence, his presence comforting to your aching heart. She knew when to speak and when to stay silent, you always talked when you wanted to and it was pointless to try and make you.

Once you finished, you took a napkin and cleaned your mouth, handing her much more money than the food cost. She immediately gave it back to you, shaking her head.

"no no mi niña, llévese eso." (no no my girl, take that away)

Standing up, you took her hand and placed the money in her palm. 

"Yo no lo necesito Catita" (I don't need it Catita) With a kiss to the top of her head, you swiftly got out of there, her sigh reaching your ears as you walked back to the Embassy. 

You felt much lighter, the pain in your chest gone and your muscles relaxed. You entered the building and walked down the stairs to the basement, heading straight to your desk. Javi was sitting at his, filling what you guessed was the visa request for Helena. You didn't give it importance, sitting down at your chair and stripping off your jacket. The office was getting hot again, so you tied your hair up in a ponytail and started working as if nothing had happened.

Steve gives you a funny look from his seat between your desks. He won't have his own for at least a week, so either you let him use part of yours or Javier will.

You pray he's an organized person and wave at him.

"Come on Miami, get over here"

He sits straight and gives you a visual similar to a puppy being called, then stands up to pull his chair to sit across you. His desk will probably be on the opposite wall of yours anyway, may as well get used to his face.

"Do you need help with anything?"

His words sound like heaven in your ears, and you're sure your eyes even sparkle a little bit. Finally, someone is going to help you.

"Could you help me fill these formats, please? I'm sure you know how to"

He laughs a little and takes the bunch of documents you're handing him, nodding. He never liked doing paperwork either but didn't hate it as much as Peña seemed to do. He can't help but think that leaving you with everything is too much of a dick move and decides to help you as much as he can from now on.

Both of you start to work without another word, the air feeling a little tense now that Steve feels like less of a stranger at the office. He can't do much about the rigidness between the two of you, though.

Javier raises his head from the request he's filling out and a pang on his chest makes itself present once he gets a good look at the scene in front of him.

In all the time he's known you, he has never seen you so relaxed while working. Your cheeks are flushed from the heat that's enveloping the entire place, strands of hair falling to your face as you're bent over whatever document you're working on. Your shoulders are less tense than he's seen in weeks, and he can even see a faint smile forming at your lips. Steve is reading through the papers you gave him, his posture loose and easy.

With new people, you're usually slow to warm up to, you hate anyone who isn't him getting close at your workplace, and even then you're hesitant. Despite this, you seem to be getting used to Murphy pretty quickly, and the thought creates a knot right at the center of his stomach. 

He shakes the thought out of his head and keeps working on the visa request, but he can't shake the warm, burning feeling that has spread all over his body.

The day goes quickly, with Murphy helping you with everything you ask for and things getting easier between you two. With every laugh and joke the two of you exchange, Javier feels his body get hotter and hotter, but refuses to acknowledge it. 

Soon it's time to leave and for the first time in weeks, you don't need to stay late.

"Vamonos compañera" (let's go partner) Javier says, but his words come out hard and tense.

It only gets worse when you shake your head as you stand up.

"Hoy no Javier, tomaré el colectivo" (not today Javier, I'm taking the bus)

He grits his teeth and fists his hands at his sides but otherwise nods. He takes his jacket off the rack and rounds his desk, waiting for you and Steve to walk in front of him.

As the three of you get out of the building,the sun has barely set and it's a good change from the pitch black night you had gotten used to. You bid each other goodbye and he silently watches how you walk alongside Murphy through the alley with a clenching heart and a hot face, jumping into his Jeep and closing the door with much more force than necessary.

"pinche gringo" (fucking gringo) he mutters as he drives away.

#javier peña #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #reader insert #pedro pascal fanfiction #my writing #tabaco y brea

[s1cparvism4gna]

I Like You A Lot

WARNINGS: cursing, violence

Pairings: Chloe Frazer x Nadine Ross x OC

Tags: @desertvvitch , @courtenbae

Chapter 12

Sunny’s POV

We’d been driving for an hour and had been undisturbed the entire time. I was beginning to understand Nadine’s worry. It made the job easier thus far but Asav could’ve been anywhere. We could walk right into a trap and never know it. I sighed as we pulled upon a cliff. The ground was broken as grass grew between the cracks and vines grew along the front of the platform. Before us was the relief we'd seen from a distance.

“Woah…” I murmured in wonder as we hopped out of the car.

“You can say that again….” Chloe chuckled as her phone went off again.

“It’s magnificent…” I heard Nadine say in awe; I watched Chloe’s brows seem to crinkle in worry as she checked it. I narrowed my eyes at her as she tucked her phone away before Nadine could notice. She blew a bit of hair out of her face and rocked her weight back and forth on her heels.

“Chloe… what’s goin’ on?” I asked her. Nadine began to walk towards the platform and turned to look at us.

“You coming?” She shouted.

“In a minute! I need to talk to Sunflower a moment.” Chloe answered. Nadine narrowed her eyes and looked between the two of us suspiciously. She shrugged and started towards the relief. Chloe brought her gaze back to me and we walked slowly, several paces behind Nadine. “It’s Sam.” She told me in a hushed tone. My heart jolted and worry began to wash over me.

“What happened?” I asked her.

“He thinks he’s been made.” She said quickly. I gasped.

“Oh shit… Did he get caught?” I asked as calmly as possible, despite my speeding heart rate.

“Not yet. But I don’t think Asav’s buying his act anymore.”

“Well how much longer can he keep it up?”

“He’s not sure…” she began to chew on her cuticles nervously in thought before speaking again. “We’ve got to pull him out.”

“Well how in the hell do we do that without Nadine catchin’ on to it?”

“I don’t think we really have a choice here, Sunny. If we don’t, Sam’s beyond dead.” She told me direly. My breathing grew shallow and my head pounded against my skull. All of this mess was about to come together and I wasn’t mentally ready for it. I sighed and scratched at a spot on my head anxiously.

“She’s gonna flip her shit, Chloe.” I warned her.

“I know. But I can risk that.”

“Can you?” I asked her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She wrinkled her brows at me and I rolled my eyes. “Nadine is a big girl, okay? I think she’d be able to handle it if you—”

“Nope. You said it yourself- she wouldn’t understand—”

“Okay but maybe if you just—”

“She won’t get it, Sunny!” She argued. I shut my mouth to let her speak. This was obviously stressing her out too. I don’t think getting Sam this early was part of her plan. “You heard her talking about Libertalia. You think she’s just going to willingly work with Sam after all of that? He put a gun to her head! And she lost everything because of him! And you as well! But at least she can stand you…”

“Barely. Look…. either way, she’s gonna find out. Why not just be honest with her now?”

“I still need her help, Sunny. Her role is not done yet.” She seemed adamant about not telling her. It was just going to create more problems in my opinion but she was stubborn and set in her way. I sighed and shook my head, my foot tapping the stone beneath us.

“How far from us is he?” I asked reluctantly. She seemed confused.

“Who Sam or Asav?”

“Both. If he’s his ‘expert’ then he should be close by. We’re gonna have to face Asav eventually. Even if it wasn’t supposed to be this soon, we have to.” I huffed with my hands on my hips. “I hope you know what the sam-hell you’re doin’....”

“I’m working on it. Just be ready when I need you.”

“Of course.” I said defeatedly, walking off to join Nadine. Chloe seemed to take a moment to herself as I climbed the platform. As I approached, I noticed a big crank that we’d have to turn. I leaned on the gold bar and wiped the sweat from my neck with my dirty black tee shirt, looking at the relief in silence.

“What’s she talking about?”

“She was apologizin’ for something she didn’t need to….”

“Ah….” Nadine looked up at the elaborate artwork carved into the mountain and crossed her arms with a sigh. “Spurrs, I know I said—”

“It’s whatever. You were right. I shouldn’t waste time on someone who wants to hurt me. I’m still pissed at him and the next time I see him, I will surely let him know that.” I said, glancing up at the mountain.

“Okay… Is Chloe okay?”

“Chloe’s fine.” I mumbled, looking back for her. She was on her way to the platform and getting ready to climb it. “Let’s just get this over with, yeah?” I said.

“Ja…” she replied solemnly.

Chloe looked up to admire the stonework, same as us. She blew out a puff of air as her eyes scanned over the depiction of what seemed like war. Packed tightly into the circular carving was a bunch of men fighting against one another in close quarters. This was the Persians versus the Hoysala.

“How long do you think it takes to carve something like this?” Nadine asked to no one in particular, her eyes never leaving the art.

“Years…. Decades, even.”

“Jesus H… Stonework was absolutely their thing, that’s for sure…” I marveled.

“And war…” Nadine mumbled.

“They must’ve made these to commemorate their victories against the Persians.” Chloe sighed.

“Looks like they put up a good fight…”

“They did. Pity it didn’t last…” she paced about for a bit, wiping the sweat that trickled down the tip of her pointed nose. “But their loss is our gain, right?” There she went again with all of that false bravado. Once again she found the bright side of this shitty situation. I crossed my arms as I looked up at the carving when something began to click for me.

“Chloe… that looks like your disc…. almost exact…” I told her. She pulled it out of her back pocket and took a few steps back to look between the disc and this carving and nodded.

“Yeah… that’s right.” She said. I looked at her in confusion as her mind seemed to wander off again. I made a face and obvious gesture at her as I awaited her next response.

“Well…. now what?”I asked. She tucked away the disc again and walked towards the crank I leaned on.

“Shall we turn this and find out?” She asked mischievously. She was just a big ol ball of risk and curiosity. To be honest, I wouldn’t have her any other way. This crank was a little bigger than the others. Suspiciously, I raised my brow as the three of us pushed it around, hoping nothing bad would come of it. As the crank locked in place, a loud rumble took place. When we looked up at the relief, it began to split in half, opening like a doorway as vines and branches snapped off from the movement. Dust kicked up and poured out from the new entrance mysteriously, rolling along the hot stone ground and circling our feet. On the other end was a rainforest thick with fog and dew. I gasped as I walked around the crank to stand next to the girls. I looked at Chloe and her jaw hung slack in awe. She was speechless.

“Are you good, Chloe?” I asked her.

“Yeah… just uh…. taking it all in….” She answered with a shaky voice. And with that, she walked through the rounded archway and into the rainforest, the massive relief gate closing behind us slowly as we followed her.

We hopped off of a few cliffs and followed the path. I was not at all prepared for this view. It was absolutely breathtaking. Before us were two colossal carved statues of Ganesh, covered in moss and vines. Most seemed to fill the air from the splashes of the waterfall that sat between them hitting the rivers below us. The skies were blue and clear, birds singing. Behind it in the distance, a green mountain with more perfectly blue waterfalls, a rainbow forming in the sky. “Ladies…. Welcome to downtown Halebidu.” Chloe sang. “Last known resting place of the Tusk of Ganesh.” I shook my head in disbelief. There was no way this was a real thing that I was actually seeing with my own eyes. I imagined this was how Nate and Sam felt when they found Libertalia. It was almost worth it to not have seen it first. The untouched city of Halebidu was definitely a gorgeous sight to behold. A smile pulled on my lips and Nadine and I exchanged smiles. Chloe however… Stone faced and anxious, she rested her arms behind her head and straightened her back, bouncing on her toes as she exhaled sharply.

“Hmm…” She hummed.

“What’s ‘hmm?’” I asked and she pulled the disc out and held it up. She pointed to a rippled spot in the depiction of the waterfall.

“Does that look like there’s a dam or something between the statues?” She asked. When I looked up, that same ripple wasn’t there.

“Probably got eroded by the falls.” I said, straining my eyes for a better look.

“So then how do we get in?” Chloe asked, putting the disc away. Nadine chewed on her lip in thought as she pulled Chloe’s binoculars off of her belt and looked through them for a moment. She suddenly exclaimed and pointed towards the statue. There was a massive hole in the crown. They deduced that it was a watchtower that got bombarded. It was probably how the Persians got in. A small smile pulled at my lips until I noticed Chloe beginning to pace again. It seemed like she had a lot on her mind during this job.

“I had heard about this place for soooo long….” she said shaking her head, still starstruck by where she was standing. She sat down on the lowest cliff ledge and pulled out the gold piece she’d been playing about with and rolled in in her hands, staring at it. “I can’t believe I’m actually looking at it.” She chuckled. Nadine grinned at her. She looked happy for her. She knew what this meant for her. Or at least she thought she did.

“Take a picture! You should send it to your dad!” She said excitedly as she walked along the cliff, staring at the view.

“Great idea…” I heard her mumble somberly. I turned to look at her and the look on her face read something sad almost. I put my hands on her hips and caught her eyes, smiling as I tried to cheer her up. She should be beyond happy right now. She found the place she’d been searching for.

“Lemme guess. He’s one of those old dudes who can’t work a new phone?” I joked, crouching before her and hitting her knee. “Just take the picture and show it to him in person then.” I said. We looked eyes for a moment and I could see the dejection in her clear blue eyes. She flared her nostrils and blinked repeatedly, chewing on her lip as if she were trying to fight off unwanted tears.

“No it’s uh…. just a few decades too late for that.” She murmured, pursing her lips. I felt my face fall as I came to the realization that her father was no longer alive. I looked back at Nadine and she frowned sadly as well. Chloe seemed almost too relaxed for that statement. But I’m sure it still hurt….

“Chloe, I—”

“Oh. Oh god no. It’s fine. It was a long time ago.” She said cutting me off with a smile. It was a good act but I knew it bothered her. However, I didn’t want to push. So I left it alone. “Shall we head for Halebidu?” She asked us with a bright smile. I took a deep breath and nodded with a small smile. Nadine did the same. “Then let’s hop to it!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands. With that, we started off walking along the cliffs.

There was a gap between us and the path to the statues, filled with so much fog we couldn’t even see what was below us. And that worried me. “Follow along!” Chloe called, throwing her grappling hook to the branch of a twisted tree and swinging to the other side, landing with ease. It was almost like old times again. When she and Nate taught me everything they knew. I was still a wuss for heights. My eyes widened and my heart began to pound. ‘Fuck, I’m really doin’ this…’ I thought, looking down into the foggy void. I unhooked my rope from my hip, nervously staring at the gap between Chloe and myself. I groaned as my breathing turned shallow. “Just like I taught you before, love! All in the wrists!” She shouted across to me. I looked at Nadine over my shoulder and she gave me a supportive nod. I grumbled incoherently and tossed the rope to the branch. Lucky for me, it latched on perfectly. I tugged on it to make sure it wouldn’t come loose and readied myself at the edge of the cliff, gripping onto the rope for dear life. ‘I’m gonna fuckin’ do it….. fuck….’ I thought. And I hesitated.

“Shit…” I cursed under my breath.

“Sunny.” I heard Nadine say. I turned to look at her. “Are you holding on?”

“Yeah! Sorry I’m ju—AHHHH!!!!” Just as I answered, Nadine poked my shoulder forcefully with a single finger and pushed me off the cliff. I fell screaming bloody murder until the rope tightened and swung over to the other side. My eyes were shut tight as I swung back and forth. I could hear Chloe calling me. I opened one eye to see myself swinging back to Nadine’s side.

“Jump to me!” Chloe yelled. As the momentum sent me swinging back to her, I squealed and jumped just as she said. My body began free falling until I landed on my two feet just barely at the edge of the cliff. But she grabbed my forearm to steady me and pulled me onto solid ground. I dropped to my hands and knees with a loud groan. I couldn’t believe I’d just done that. Nadine made her way across easily and Chloe rubbed my back gently, handing me my rope back. “Good job, hun!” She told me as I looked up at Nadine. She smirked at me and I just snarled a little.

“Fuck you.” I said plainly as I stood up. The two burst into a giggle as I walked ahead of them. “I’m glad my fear of heights is comedy gold for you. Thank you so much.” I mumbled. Little did I know that this was just the tip of the iceberg...

I found myself hanging off the edge of Ganesh’s hand. Yes. The statue. The too big to be real statue. I felt like I was going to be sick. My stomach turned the higher and higher we ascended. Nothing about this was remotely okay to me. How everyone was just okay with climbing things like this just blew me away. “I find it funny though…” Chloe mentioned.

“How so?” I asked sarcastically, tired of the climbing shit.

“You hate heights and yet you still manage to go along with us climbing everything.” Chloe laughed.

“Must be a glutton for torture.” Nadine joked. I growled. I could never be them. Go to all these great heights and hold a pleasant conversation? No. I was too busy worrying about falling to my death for that. As I pulled myself up on the ledge of Ganesh’s scepter, I hugged the wall as a brush of wind blew by, almost knocking me over. My heart was in my throat now and I could feel a few tears coming on.

“Hurry up, Sunflower! We’re almost at the top!” I heard Chloe shout from above as I shivered. I huffed and hit the wall with my palm for a second.

“Sorry, Ganesh.” I mumbled in annoyance as I began to start clambering up the ledges again. Before I knew it, these crazy women had me swinging from one statue to the other. Once I reached the other side, I doubled over and threw up. Nauseously, I sat down with my back against a wall for a second. That was it. That did it for me. I knew that after that, scaling anything else was going to be a piece of cake from then on. At least I could only hope. We climbed a little more later. Chloe has a few close calls and I damn near broke a ledge but we all had each other’s backs until the end. As we struggled to get over the last ledge, the three of us managed to stand on a narrow piece of stone at the top of Ganesh’s hand, overlooking Halebidu’s green mountains and tall rocks. It was incredible. I shook my head. This was all too magical looking to be real. A gust of wind blew by, almost knocking us over again but we gripped onto each other, holding one another steady. I watched as the two women looked at each other, exchanging heartwarming smiles. Chloe threw an arm over my shoulder as we watched the clouds part.

“I’m proud of you, love. You did it.” She whispered to me. It was like receiving high praise from a well respected mentor. A bit of pride swelled in my chest as I admired the result of all the climbing. The risk was definitely worth the view.

“Now… how do we get off this thing?” Nadine asked as Chloe pulled out her camera. “Really?! Jesus Chloe.” She smiled bashfully as she snapped the picture of her balancing herself on Ganesh’s hand.

“When are you gonna be back here?!” Chloe reasoned cutely. She’d begun flirting with her more lately. It was almost blatant. Then she turned to me and snapped a few of me walking away like a baby deer. We found ourselves swinging to a mudslide and dropping into the hole at the crown just as Nadine pointed out.

We followed her down into an opening in the floor. Sliding down by rope, we dropped between two more massive statues. One of Parashurama raising his axe and the other, an unarmed and yielding Ganesh. The drop was a long one for sure but considering what I had just climbed, I wasn’t even bothered anymore. When we reached the bottom, we found a crack in the wall. This led to yet another one of my blessed phobias. The ground was littered with the armored barebones of what seemed to be the Persians and Hoysala fighters. ‘Of course there’s skeletons. Why would there not be skeletons?’ I thought to myself slightly panicking. It was dark and dank in the passageway. I bit my lip so hard it bled a little as we walked around a bit. I listened to Chloe talk about how brutal the war was, shining my flashlight along the walls and dirty floors. We crawled through a tight space and I once again almost cried, being so close to the broken bones along the floor. It led us to a room with a door similar to the one from the fort. Knowing what to do, Chloe pressed the button. Only this time there were no handles to turn. The door just lifted, opening up to what seemed like a dungeon, a fire pit igniting in the middle of the room.

“Is this some sorta freaky Indian ritual or somethin’?” I asked nervously as I looked at the eerie scene. There were just a bunch of bones this time. There were whole piles of bones lined around the room. Chloe hissed.

“No… They’re mostly partial to cremation…”

“Ah…” I nodded, looking around. I didn’t really care about the answer in all honesty. I just wanted to get the hell out of there. Unfortunately there were only more rooms like this. They were the last of the men to defend the tusk to their deaths. After pulling out an armored body that was wedged in it, we squeezed through a crack in the wall that led us to a smoky room with a large device in the middle of the floor. There were depictions of Parashurama being gifted his axe from Shiva on one wall and Parashurama using that same axe to chop off Ganesh’s tusk. In this device were a bunch of skewed pieces that cast shadows on the wall. “What the hell….” I said looking at it.

“Hope you don’t mind doing a bit of thinking, Spurrs. Looks like this could take a while.” Nadine told me.

“Yes…. yes it could…” I said as I walked around the room cautiously. The gears in my head began to turn as I tried to figure out the point of it and how to solve it. But it was rather simple. I had to mix the pieces to form a shadow that would match the pictures on the walls. “Take a load off, girls. I got this.” I said walking around to examine the device again.

Read more on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26555698/chapters/64735600

#uncharted #sam drake #samuel drake #chloe frazer #nadine ross #uncharted 4 #uncharted lost legacy #uncharted headcanon #uncharted imagine #uncharted x reader #uncharted smut #sam drake fanfiction #sam drake smut #poc ocs #poc #poc OC #ao3 #ao3 author

[your-write-or-die-blog]

It had been a while since my last casting call. Looking around me now at the que of girls wearing 90’s style windbreakers, crisp new vans, and highlight on the tips of their noses, I felt as though I had been thrust into a world of Instagram models and I’d received an invite on accident. The open call was massive, for a pop band music video coming out in the summer. The line of girls snaked halfway around the Hollywood studio lot, adjacent one set comprised of six or seven fake houses that looked vaguely like something I’d seen on television. I squinted at them for a moment and racked my brains. Dexter, maybe? The girl in line behind me caught my eye and craned her neck in the same direction, eager energy exuding from her. I turned a little bit to smile at her, but couldn’t tell if she’d noticed behind her dark aviators. Maybe she was as nervous as I was. Maybe she was just so flat out gorgeous and cool that she didn’t think I was worth her acknowledgement. I knew from past experience how ruthless Hollywood was. Even though this was my fifth casting call this month, and even though I’d been working to put some weight off and had even gotten up early to do my hair, I began to feel more and more unprepared and out of place in my plain black jeans, doc martens and casual spaghetti strap top. I realized I hadn’t even taken time to read the email from the casting company. Convinced I wasn’t going to make any friends in line, I pulled it up on my smartphone. My stomach sank a bit. The company was looking for a “love interest” role, and warned that actors should be prepared for the audition to include “physical touch” and other possible “romantic gestures”. The coffee on my breath became brutally apparent and I considered ditching the audition entirely. How and why did I not stop to read the stupid email before driving here and freaking out over the lack of parking for almost an hour? My mind began to race. What if the lead singer was gross? “Romance” wasn’t exactly my forte either – I had never gone out for a “love interest” role. This is why I needed an agent. After a few deep breaths, I found a stick of gum in the bottom of my purse along with my resolve. I was already here and I needed the money, I thought. Waiting tables at the Mel’s on Sunset simply wasn’t cutting it, and if this band was as big as this massive turn out led me to believe, I knew it would mean a nice chunk of cash if I somehow landed the part. Plus, music was a huge part of my life – I’d been writing songs on piano since I was 12. To help make someone’s music come to life on screen would be an absolute pleasure of mine… I just hoped their music was good. The sun began to set and the temperature dropped a bit, a refreshing and welcomed change that seemed to help calm my nerves. To help pass the time I put on my headphones and cranked up my favorite 80’s music: Depeche Mode, Oingo Boingo and Fleetwood Mac. Before too long I found my way to the front of the line. The clipboard lady gestured for me to pause as she held her ear to a mess of static through her walkie. She eyed me and my plain face and smiled patiently, then sighed and shook her head. “I’ve got no clue what he just said,” she admitted. “You’re adorable honey, you’re gonna do great,” she said as she checked my ID’s. She looked like she’d been on her feet for hours now, but the sentiment seemed genuine and I smiled back appreciatively. She handed me a ticket. “You’re number 412,” she said, “don’t lose that ticket.” My stomach sank again. 412, I thought. There’s no way I’m getting this part. The next clipboard-person was a tall gay man, head bald as a bowling ball. He singled me out as I walked by and asked if I had my portfolio. I handed it over and he flipped through it, looked at me somewhat indifferently and then directed me to a room off to the left. My palms were sweating. What if I didn’t fit the part and this was the end? The situation became more and more real. I jumped when he began instructing us, not realizing that he had followed along behind me. “Okay, ladies, watch your step - NICE shoes, file in loves, careful now” he said in a thick British accent, ushering myself and a few other girls into a dark, cool room.  The entrance to this stage had a little sitting area – I found a seat and stuck my hands between my legs, praying that they dry before something important started happening. I looked up – the ceiling was very high like a warehouse, the lights along it stark and expensive-looking. To break the silence I leaned over to the girl on my left, who had waist length blonde hair that looked incredible with her yellow corduroy miniskirt: “With the lights and stuff, it’s sort of like Costco in here, isn’t it?” She looked back at me confused and I decided I wasn’t going to speak anymore. The first part of the audition was more of a group interview – the bald clipboard guy picked me out with three other girls and I felt a surge of relief. I’d experienced auditions like this before – it was a great way for casting to get through more people more quickly. This casting team in particular thankfully seemed a lot friendlier than most I’d encountered, casual even. They only asked us our names and to tell them about ourselves – the blonde girl laid it on thick, charisma oozing out of every hand motion and inflection. The second girl seemed almost disinterested, explaining that she went to school in the area and that her friend had told her to come. Finally, they got around to me. A kind-eyed but important looking woman dressed in linen asked what had inspired me to audition. “I love music and I love to create,” I answered easily. She straightened a little bit and asked me to talk a little more about that. I suddenly felt very honest. "Music is such an important part of my life...and of society, it allows us to communicate what could otherwise be lost in a boring old conversation. People talk too much, I think..." I trailed off and became very aware that everyone's eyes were fixed on me now. I felt like I had somehow answered... correctly? She nodded agreeably and motioned for me to go on. "Well I like to write my own songs and I perform open mics sometimes when I'm feeling brave," I continued, "It's hard for me to bear my soul like that...working with someone who is brave for a living would be incredible."  The woman looked up from her notes and leaned over the table, smiling ear to ear. "Anything else, darling?" This audition was suddenly much different than any I had gone to before. My ears were burning. I untucked my curls to cover them.  "No," I laughed. "I guess that's it." The three directors laughed along with me, which felt amazing. The woman in linens stood up suddenly and removed her glasses so that they hung down on her neck. "And," she started, raising her eyebrows, "what do you think of Matty Healy?" The atmosphere in the room shifted at the name. The director lady smirked knowingly as the girl next to me melted just a little bit into her boots. I realized they all knew something that I didn't. Before I could embarrass myself by asking who Matty Healy was, suddenly he was there.  "Did I hear my name?" He was holding a cup of coffee without a lid, a large plastic clip holding his dark curls away from his face, which was scrunched up into a cheesy grin that sent butterflies rippling through my stomach. To complete the actor-on-set look he wore a gray sort of bathrobe over his wardrobe, charmingly mismatched with a beautiful pair of shiny black shoes.  The girls on either side of me unabashedly began to squeal. The directors smiled patiently as he came over to greet us. I watched three girls fall in love with the same man at the same time. "We're taking five," he said in a beautiful accent, taking the blonde girl's hand and kissing it very lightly.  "God, it's cold in here when you're not dancing about like a lunatic, innit?" he murmured to the group of us, explaining the bathrobe. He was so adorable that I couldn't help but hold the back of my hand over my mouth. He caught the motion and looked over at me now.  "Hi," he said, nodding to me as our eyes met. His were warm even in the harsh warehouse lighting.  He introduced himself: "I'm Matthew." Embarrassment froze me for a moment. Oh God, I thought. How long had he been standing around that corner?  He had probably heard the whole audition. But those eyes were so reassuring. Despite not knowing his name a mere ten seconds ago, I felt immediately comfortable with him. "Hi," I replied quietly with a laugh, surprising myself by leaning in to politely hug him around the shoulders. Matty did not seem surprised as all; catching my arms for a moment and holding them there. He smelled like hair product and cigarettes.  "Thank you," he hummed warmly near my neck so that only I could hear. "I needed that today." He sounded sincere. When he pulled away, I was grinning like an idiot.  "Erm," he started, tearing his eyes from me. "This project is very important to me and I've very grateful to you all for coming out and being a part of it. We're having a bit of a party for the next part of the audition so I hope to see you girls there," he smiled again and waved sweetly to everyone, murmuring something quickly to the director before shuffling back around the corner.  I continued desperately to try and calm the redness in my face as the rest of the models openly fan-girled to one another, glancing over at me with a mix of delight and envy.  "Okay, ladies," the woman with the glasses chuckled, waiting for us to settle. "Like Matt said, this next part of the audition we're going to have a sort of mock-shoot just to test if you're compatible - " The bald man threw his hands up in exasperation. "Nora means we want to see some chemistry, duh." Nora rolled her eyes good-naturedly as we all turned to "ooh" at each other, "right, exactly, so there's going to be some dancing involved, we're going to play a little clip of music and we just want to see you interact with Matty and have a good time. As specified in the email if you're not comfortable with this we thank you for coming out anyway. Go ahead and have a seat in the waiting area and we'll come grab you when we're ready for you, there should be water and snacks in a couple minutes." Out of 412 girls auditioning, the waiting area only had a couple dozen. The vibe was different from before, the ice had been broken and all the models chatted excitedly, sipping water, munching grapes and crackers. Not all of them had been there to meet Matty, and they teemed up around me after hearing that we'd had a little moment. Thirty minutes went by and only one girl had been asked to the set. Nora popped in and my heart sank. An extra-cautious layer of professionalism coated her voice this time.  "Hello ladies, just a reminder that we had a massive turn out today and unfortunately we can only consider a few of you. We really are grateful to you for showing up but Matty and the team are looking for someone pretty," she paused, "specific ... when it comes to this video in particular and we are doing our best today. Thanks again for your patience." She smiled dryly and dipped out, hateful eyes amounting on her back. I swallowed dryly.  Another ten minutes went by and two models had already given up, packing up their things with heels clack-clacking through the stage door. The quintessential Hollywood phrase was "hurry up and wait", but forty minutes had never felt quite so long to me. Finally, Nora reappeared and pointed at me with that knowing smile. It was only then that I realized I'd been holding my breath - I sighed out in relief and hurriedly grabbed my jacket, ignoring the stares behind me.  While it was small, the set was much less "mock" than I anticipated: full lights and camera surrounding a simple white backdrop where a crew member sat in behind the drum set. A few other crew members were buzzing about, setting marks with tape on the floor, discussing angles, scrutinizing their notes. Matty sat on a director's chair behind the mic stand without his bathrobe this time, legs crossed. Before I could catch his eye I had a round brush in my face.  "Just a little shiny there," the makeup artist said to me, motioning my chin up to her. "God, you've got great skin... how old are you?"  I stumbled over my words, still getting my bearings. She waved in a "never-mind" motion. "You're over 18 though, right?" I nodded carefully as she dabbed rouge along my cheekbones with her ring finger. "There... just so these lights don't wash you out too much." She smiled and gave the hair around my face a couple twists and a spray. "Beautiful. Good luck!" Someone clapped their hands a couple times to get everyone's attention. "Alright, welcome Miss..?" I squinted past the lights and called out my name to who I assumed was the video director.  "Very nice, hi, yes," he sighed in the exasperated sort of way that directors do, "Okay! So - we're going to play some music and have you sort of perform with Matty here - dance, flirt, pull his hair, whatever you want, ok? Are you ready?" I nodded and a surge of confidence shot through me as Matty looked up with that smile, scooting the chair out of the shot and putting his hand on my shoulder as if we'd known each other for years.  "I do hope you don't pull my hair," he joked, "it took an awful long time to fix."  "I mean it's your video, Healy," I shrugged. My God, I thought. What a face.  The audition had already started and I didn't even realize. The audio was much less professional, a boom box off to the side started playing a song that I immediately recognized from the radio and I realized that the man who had decided just now to dip me was probably worth millions. I recovered from the dip and followed his lead as he whipped the mic around and began sort of half-singing, half mouthing along to the lyrics. Although the mic was off, up this close I could tell that his voice was absolutely lovely.  As he made his way behind the stand-in drummer he eyed me, still gauging. I took half a second to collect myself and followed the vibe of the song, deciding the sort of alt rock guitar riffs called for some hair shaking and punk-posing.  He took my hand and spun me into him as he propped one shiny shoe up onto one of the toms. I slid my hands along his shoulders and came up behind him; making eyes at camera 3 as he sang directly to it. Before the verse was over, I decided i couldn't help myself: I tugged his curls lightly and he sang the remainder of the verse directly to my face before making some sort of explosion noise and racing around me to get back to the mic stand for the guitar solo.  I was in awe of him. Once we made it back to the front I felt him switch to full-on performance mode, trusting that I could keep up with him now. And I could. Before long I realized we had gone through almost the entire song like this and the director looked significantly less bored than he did when I first walked in. The music stopped and the crew applauded us.  Matty tucked me under his arm and whisked us away from the lights for a moment. I was still catching my breath, yet he had barely broke a sweat. "That was, you were -!" "That was so fun!" I finished for him. He laughed and my heart melted.  "Really though, like -" He had the cutest way of tripping over his words. "Ugh," he gave up, hugging me instead. His face was so close to mine I felt his breath.  "And I heard what you said earlier in the group about music and, and erm - that was you right?" I nodded and he lit up like a little kid for a second. Seeing him happy like this was well worth the impossible parking, the waiting and the hours of nerves. He went on: "So, right, listen - I think we're doing a couple quick little callbacks but, dude." Matty Healy had just called me dude.  He fumbled in his trouser pockets for something and then motioned for me to wait, jogging over to behind the set. The crew members were all in a bunch now, reviewing the footage and speaking excitedly. When he returned he handed me a pen and a scrap of paper. "I've lost my - bleeding - phone again but please, would you write your number for me?"

to be continued

#writing #Hollywood #acting #story #fanfic #the1975 #matthealy #the 1975 #matt healy #mattyhealy #matty healy #matthealyfanfic #the1975fanfic #mattyhealyfanfic

[newtothewaywardparty]

The Ghost of an Idea 1

Stave One: Bobby’s Ghost

Okay, first of all, Bobby was dead. There’s no doubt about it. He had taken a bullet in the fight against the Leviathans, haunted Sam and Dean through his old flask, and finally hitched a ride out of hell through Purgatory before settling in Heaven. Then he busted out of Heaven for the chance to help the boys on one last mission. Bobby was as dead as a doornail. Dean knew it better than most. After all, Dean killed ghosts by trade, and had served his own stints in Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory.

The fact that Bobby was dead must be firmly established to understand what happened to Dean that Christmas Eve when everything changed for the worse.

And then, for the better.

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

PART 1:

Sam burst in the door of the bunker, stomping snow from his boots. Dean looked up from his laptop, startled, as Sam pulled the tip of a comically huge spruce tree through the metal door. A struggle between Sam, the tree, and an unseen force almost pitched Sam down the steep flight of stairs into the bunker. It was resolved successfully when Jack popped through the door like a cork holding the spruce’s trunk, wide grin plastered on his boyish face.

Dean gaped as his brother and the nephilim maneuvered the tree down the stairs. Sam hoisted the tip up as Jack dropped the trunk to the ground. The spruce was dark green, and even taller than Sam. Jack was practically bursting, hands on hips of his plaid flannel thermal jacket, cheeks pink from exertion and cold. “We got a tree!” he announced happily with obvious pride.

Dean felt his chest constrict with a familiar yet unwanted feeling he got whenever Jack was guileless and earnest. It reminded Dean a bit too much of his favorite angel, Cas. That wasn’t a reminder he wanted or needed right now. Instead of following his impulse to slap the kid on the back in congratulations, Dean shoved out his chair and grabbed his empty beer bottle.

“No shit” Dean barked, ignoring Sam’s reproving glare. What did Jack want, a fucking medal? It was a goddamned tree, not the cure for cancer. Who cared if Jack had helped to defeat Michael and Lucifer and had restored order to the dimensions? Nobody got merit badges in this line of work. At least, no one ever gave him one, thought Dean nastily.

“I see you’ve still got your panties in a twist,” Sam said, throwing off his coat. Jack was busy setting up the tree stand. His grin had frozen a little at Dean’s dismissal, but his Christmas spirit seemed undeterred. He almost vibrated with good cheer as he hummed what Dean would never admit to recognizing as a Mariah Carey Christmas pop tune while he worked. Sam angled his body towards Dean, pitching his voice conspiratorially. “Is this still about that hunt last month?”

Dean’s face closed so fast against Sam’s understanding, sympathetic manner it practically clanged shut. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sammy” Dean replied. He turned on his heel and made a beeline for the kitchen. Between near-constant alcohol consumption and sleep deprivation brought on by relentless travel and hunting, Dean had been almost completely successful at blocking out what had happened on that hunt. Almost.

Dean ditched his empty beer bottle and rummaged in the bunker’s kitchen cabinets. His intake had been particularly heavy lately. Christmas Eve was a terrible time to run out of Hunter’s Helper. He should have asked Sam to pick some up when they were off singing carols and ice skating or whatever other Peanuts Christmas nonsense he had been up to with Jack in town. Fuck it, there had to be some ancient shit buried back in one of these cabinets, he thought desperately.

“Dean” Sam’s voice came from the doorway, where he leaned, arms crossed. Relentless bastard. “You’ve always loved Christmas. You’re usually the one wheedling me about it. I figured you’d be in here cooking gingerbread and cueing up Die Hard for Jack, making ‘ho ho ho now I’ve got a machine gun’ jokes. What crawled up your ass and died?” Sam’s face was a mixture of kicked puppy and nagging parent.

Dean whirled on him, jaw clenched. “Things change. People change.” Dean shrugged, trying to think of an excuse. Anything but the real reason. “We’re not exactly religious, and that normal apple-pie stuff just isn’t for us. We’ve got work to do, remember?” He turned away to continue rummaging for any alcohol, anything hard at all, to obliterate his memories of Cas and the hunt gone sideways and now this goddamn argument with his brother who just wouldn’t leave well enough alone.

Sam shook his head. “That’s exactly why we need this, Dean. Now more than ever.” Now that Mom was gone again, went unspoken but sat in the air between them. “This is Jack’s first real Christmas,” Sam continued with the air of a man laying down an ace “and I wanted it to be special. Pull out all the stops.”

“Ha!” exclaimed Dean, partially in response to Sam, and partly in triumph at unearthing an ancient bottle of cooking sherry. He unscrewed it and took a whiff, recoiling in disgust. “What are you going to do, put him in footie pajamas and hang out his stocking for Santa?” Dean said in a mocking tone. He put his lips to the bottle and swigged, wincing at the burn.

“Why the fuck not?” challenged Sam, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Just because you and Cas had a fight doesn’t mean we shouldn’t show Jack the spirit of the holidays-”

Dean did an honest-to-Chuck spit-take, spraying gross cooking sherry all over the clean tabletop. “Cas and I did not have a fight, I told you.” Dean growled, low and dangerous. “He just flapped off to do some angel shit after the hunt. Like always. I’m not his keeper.”

Sam nodded. “Good to hear. I guess you won’t mind that I invited him, then.” Sam’s eyebrow quirked, questioning.

Dean minutely tightened his grip on the bottle’s neck. “What?” he gritted out through clenched teeth, even though he was sure he heard Sam just fine.

Sam threw his hands up again. “For Christ’s sake, Dean. It’s Christmas eve. We’re gonna decorate the tree, have a few brews, order Chinese take-out, watch a shitty movie, and exchange convenience-store-bought presents. You wanna boycott? Fine. But this is happening. With or without you.” Sam looked at him with something approaching pity. “Maybe you could get cleaned up. Join us?” Sam’s gaze narrowed to the bottle in Dean’s hands pointedly.

Dean scoffed and brushed past Sam. He retreated to his room to nurse the sherry while cranking up Metallica in his headphones. Dean closed his eyes, head leaned back against the headboard. The images memories rose, unbidden.

He and Cas, in sync as any dance partners, gracefully extinguishing a rugaru. The tang and buzz of sweat and adrenaline. Cas’ eyes sparkling in the dancing flames of the rugaru’s immolated corpse. Dean grinning, clapping Cas on the back, inviting him for a celebratory drink. Thighs bumping together below the bar as they downed shots. Eyes locking, lingering. Speech dwindling. Dean slapping money on the bar. Walking back to the motel room. Cas’ hand grazing Dean’s low back. Cas’ breath hot on the back of his neck. Dean fumbling, drunk, with the key, opening the door. Turning to push it shut, reaching past Cas’ shoulder. Cas standing there, in his space, (or was Dean in Cas’ space?) quiet and still, staring. Always staring.

Dean tilted the sherry bottle for a swig, but it was empty. Due to his recent semi-permanent bender, his tolerance was so high he wasn’t even buzzed yet. He dropped the bottle unceremoniously to the floor and grabbed his duffel.

Dean stopped short on his way to the Impala at the sight of three figures decorating the tree. Sam was on the floor untangling some old-school large-bulb multi-colored lights from a garage sale box. Jack was at the table, unpacking car air fresheners from their clear plastic bags to hang on the branches. 

And next to him stood Cas. Rumpled trench, blue tie, messy hair, the whole nine. Standing there looking gorgeous and distant, as usual. He smelled like cold, fresh air. He had probably just arrived, Dean thought, blowing in on the December breeze. Cas raised his chin minutely. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean worked his tongue to gather enough saliva for speech. Cas’ gaze, intense as ever, raked Dean up and down. Dean flushed, realizing he hadn’t shaved in days, was wearing dirty sweats and smelled like a locker room after a kegger. His eyes scratched in a way indicating they were probably bloodshot, too. Shit. Just the way he wanted this to go. Impressive, Winchester.

“Hey,” Dean managed finally. If Jack and Sam thought the situation was awkward, at least they had the decency to stay quiet.

Cas’ eyes fell on Dean’s duffel and narrowed. “Are you going somewhere?” he asked, raising his eyebrows, looking almost...hurt?

Dean scrubbed his scruff with a hand. “Yeah, uh, hunt. Some of us actually care about saving people, hunting things, remember?” Good one, Dean, he thought. Passive aggression. Not just for 1950s housewives anymore.

Sam scoffed aloud. “C’mon, man, Cas just got here. You’ve been hunting nonstop for the past month. You just got back. Take one day off to be with the people you love.”

Cas looked surprised at the mention of Dean’s hunting schedule. Dean ignored that and zeroed in on Sam with cold eyes. “Love, huh? ‘Love will save the day. Love will find a way. Love heals all wounds.’ Yay, love!” snarked Dean, dripping sarcasm. 

Sam’s face hardened into bitch mode, rock solid. Dean hoped, with venom, that it stuck that way. “Like our brotherly love?” Dean waved his index finger back and forth between his little brother and himself. “So codependent we have no other functional relationships? How we’ve screwed the world a hundred times over to save each other?” Sam sputtered like an engine with a dead battery, gearing up to respond, but Dean was too fast, whirling on Jack.

“Hey kid, remember your mom? No? Me neither, at least not really. Not Mary Version 1.0.” Dean knew he’d gone too far. Knows he was way out of line. Yet he didn’t seem to care enough to stop himself, even when he saw Cas tense out of the corner of his eye. “You know why? Oh, that’s right. They died and left us. Hell, mine died on me a few times over. They loved us, but it didn’t save ‘em. Didn’t leave us any less alone. And our fathers...well, even Cas is in the Deadbeat Daddy club.” Jack rocked back as though Dean had physically slapped him, but Dean wasn’t frozen mid-air in nephilim sound waves, and Jack’s eyes hadn’t glowed yellow, so Dean figured he was still golden. Ha.

“And you,” Dean said, turning to Cas but keeping his eyes shut so he didn’t have to look at him. “How haven’t we hurt each other yet?” Dean pointed his gaze at his shoes, unable to confront whatever expression Cas is wearing. “We’ve lied to protect each other, betrayed each other, gotten each other tortured and killed...shit, Cas, we even tried to kill each other a few times. But sure, yeah, let’s exchange presents by the fireplace, drink some nog, and have a Merry Fucking Christmas!”

Dean grabbed his coat from a chair at the table in the stunned silence. He started stomping up the metal stairs.

“Dean. You don’t want to be alone on Christmas. Don’t do this. Don’t push us away.” It was Sam, of course. He sounded so reasonable. Kind. Gentle. He deserved so much better than Dean. They all did.

Dean looked over the railing and saw them standing, frozen, in the positions they had been in when he had begun his tirade. Sam’s face was unspeakably sad. Cas’ gaze was down and away from Dean, like he was really fascinated with something in a corner of the library. Jack’s eyes were wide and wet.

Dean turned away and opened the door. He did not stomp, sigh, or yell. He did not slam the door as he closed it behind him. He did not say what was in his heart, the fundamental truth that ruled his life. A song stuck on repeat: Better to be alone than be left alone, better to be the one leaving than getting left, better to be the one pushing rather than getting pushed away.

Read Stave One: Bobby’s Ghost, Part 2:

#SPN #supernatural #futurefic #destiel #deancas #Dean is a drama queen #dean winchester #sam winchester #christmasfic #fanfic #A Christmas Carol #Dickens crossover #yes it's too late #no I don't care #Also I really like Sam #jack is too precious for this world #boy melodrama #season 13 #Mary winchester #????whatamIdoing?

[quartings-main-blog]

SP Part 4

REDSTAR Do you? Oh, okay-everybody look here-this is gonna be REAl fun. Do YOU know who did it? Hmm? C'mon, give us an answer! Redstar points his flintlock at the Skyrate, as he and the other Skyrates back off in fear. REDSTAR (CONT’D) That's what I thought. SKYRATE #3: Captain Redstar! I'm sorry, IHowever, the ENGINE SOUNDS of a small skyrate barge approaching causes Redstar to pause and turn around. Approaching Redstar's zeppelin is a small skyrate barge flying in. On in are a small crew of skyrates, and Redstar's second-in-charge, HOBBLE, a spindly lady with a mechanical arm and leg, and a hatchet attached to the back of her head. As the skyrate barge lands onto the ship, Hobble jumps off, towing several skyrates bound in chains behind her with her mechanical arm. HOBBLE (Mockingly) "Good mornin', Hobble, how're ya doin'?" Well I'm glad you asked, boss, 'cause I've had a lovely time spendin' the whole mornin' scrougin' up every last one o' those worthless Dune Rats you like to call yer crew. Hobble throws the tied-up skyrates in front of Redstar. HOBBLE (CONT’D) These sorry saps say that we lost about four or five barges to that Altos girl this mornin', then saw her flyin' off south from Steemer's an hour or so later. REDSTAR South, eh? Where that Arbei fortress was? Not surprised Altos was crazy enough to break in. Well, ladies and gentlemen! Looks like this next hunt of ours'll be for both business and pleasure! 32. HOBBLE Are we headin' out now, boss? REDSTAR Why not? We're just about done cleaning up here. C'mon mates, we're heading out! And Hobble? As reward for your hard work, you can have these good-fer-nothin' crewmates for target practice. HOBBLE You know me too well. Redstar walks off to his cabin, but not before shooting the skyrate who questioned him earlier. Soon after, the war zeppelin takes off, flying high up into the air, and is quickly joined by half a dozen others, and they all fly off in the same direction. INT. SKYLARK-NIGHT Ciela is at the ship's helm piloting it, looking noticeably tired. Ventor walks up to her. VENTOR: Hey, Ciela. You've been flying for quite a bit. Do you want me to take over? CIELA: I don't need your help. 'Sides, we're almost here. Behind them, sitting on a chair and leaning against the wall of the ship, sits Pyoma, now asleep. A plate of half-finished food lies next to her. The presence of light from somewhere starts to slowly stir Pyoma awake. She opens her eyes and looks out the side window of the Skylark to see an aerial view of Dockville, a city floating in the middle of a large lake, with several rivers flowing in and out of it. At night, the city's lights reflected off the lake give it an almost magical feel. A look of amazement washes over Pyoma's face as she stares down at the first city she's ever seen in her life. Just then, Pyoma notices Ventor walking by. PYOMA: Umm hello? Mister Ventor! 33. VENTOR: Yes? What do you wanna talk to me about? And you can just call me Ventor, by the way. PYOMA: Umm, well, Ventor. Might I ask why you are taking me to...this is the town of Dockville if I am not mistaken? VENTOR: Well,- CIELA: We're not meant to be takin' you here, cog-brains! We're gonna get my ship fixed up here. (Mumbling to herself) Friggen Dockwads expect the rest of us honest folk to swim in their stupid soaked heckhole... EXT. DOCKVILLE-NIGHT It's dawn at Dockville, and the city is beginning to wake up. The city's lights are being turned off, and people are exiting their homes-buildings floating on the lake. The Skylark, sputtering smoke as it flies, soars overhead, eventually making an unstable landing at a large floating platform next to a small house. EXT. SPANNER'S HOUSE-DAY A door on the side of the Skylark opens, and a ramp descends from it. Ciela exits the doorway and walks down the ramp, followed by Ventor, who is carrying Pyoma on his shoulder. As they step onto the platform, a young man with rolled-up sleeves, SPANNER(20s), walks out to greet them. SPANNER: Hello! Ventor! Ciela! From the looks of your ship, I don't think I need to ask why you're here or how you're doing. CIELA: Good! Then you know what to do. Get to it. Faster we're outta this soggy scraphole, the better. 34. Ciela storms past Spanner, walking into his house. VENTOR: Sorry about that, Spanner. She's just had a really long day. Spanner points to Pyoma on Ventor's shoulder SPANNER: UhhVENTOR: -Long story. Just tell yourself we rescued her from some prison. It makes things easier for me at least. SPANNER: Alright then! Say, Ventor? Would you like to come in for some tea or snacks while I fix up your ship here? VENTOR: Thanks for the offer, but I'd prefer helping you fix up the Skylark. Ciela and I built that thing from the ground up. It wouldn't be right if I didn't help fix it. Is it okay if I leave this girl in your house while we work? SPANNER: I guess. Does she want anything to drink? VENTOR: Let me check. Pyoma? Psst! Pyoma! Ventor shakes Pyoma slightly, waking her up. PYOMA: (Half-asleep) H-huh? What? VENTOR: I'll take that as a no. (Whispers to Spanner) See you in a bit! You got anywhere I can leave her? 35. SPANNER: (Whispering) I've got a guest room inside. Put her there! INT. SPANNER'S HOUSE-DAY Ventor enters Spanner's house, which despite being of average size, is cramped with boxes full of mechanical parts. Walking past the dining area, Ventor enters a room marked "Guests", which holds a bed, drawers, a closet and a hammock which Ventor finds Ciela sleeping in. Ventor lays Pyoma down on the guest bed, then walks out of the house. After Ventor shuts the door, Pyoma begins to wake up and looks around to survey her surroundings. EXT. SPANNER'S HOUSE-DAY Spanner and Ventor are working on fixing the Skylark, standing on ladders and metal rigging setups to help elevate them. Large boxes filled with all manner or materials and machine parts are strewn all around the ship. Ventor has been explaining the current situation to Spanner at a greater detail. SPANNER: Okay, so if I understand this scenario correctly, you and Ciela were given the job to bring this girl to the Verdant Zones up north? To who? VENTOR: We...don't know for sure. Sleet said that the people who gave her the job didn't disclose their real names. Ventor uses a galvanizing rivet gun to attach a sheet of metal to the hull of the ship. SPANNER: That sounds fair enough. By the way, that's a really nice rivet gun, by the way. Is that Ephemepowered? 36. VENTOR: Yeah! Aridan, actually SPANNER: Well, that's quite a relief! Aridan charges are some of the most stable out there. Which is good, because leaky Epheme charges can be quite deadly. The stories I've heard of miners, factory workers and scientists coming into contact with untreated Epheme...don't typically end well. Is that one of those charges you were talking about getting earlier? VENTOR: Yeah, Ciela let me use one of those charges we got to upgrade this thing. Now, it can charge the rivets it shoots to weld things together. SPANNER: You must have been pretty lucky to find her on one of her rare moments of generosity. VENTOR: I guess...Eh, she probably just let me use this cause it was a leftover. You know, with this charge in here, I might even be able to use these galvanizing rivets as bullets if I set the shifting crank here to about three or four times more-erm-sorry if I'm being a bit of a dork about tools right now. SPANNER: You're talking to the man who's using a dual-injected flame core blowtorch with a chambered oxynitrous brass alloy handle to weld gun turrets onto your ship. Personally, I feel that it would be wise for we "Tool Dorks" to stick together. VENTOR: (Laughs) Guess so. (MORE) 37. VENTOR: (CONT’D) Hey, speaking of tools, have you seen my portable cutter anywhere? SPANNER: Pfft, it could be anywhere in this mess. Where did you last see it? VENTOR: Hmm, I had it when I walked off the ship, so it's... probably back in your house. Ventor carefully climbs down the rigging setup, and walks back into Spanner's house, stepping around the various materials strewn on the floor. INT. SPANNER'S HOUSE-DAY Ventor enters Ventor's guest room, and finds that Pyoma has left. VENTOR: -What!? Oh no. Ventor rushes over to the hammock where Ciela is still sleeping, and shakes her awake. VENTOR: (CONT’D) Ciela? Ciela!! CIELA: Uggh...Gimme five more hours, ma... VENTOR: Ciela, Pyoma's escaped! CIELA: WHAT?! Ciela jolts out of the hammock, but it spins around suddenly, and she clumsily falls to the ground. Ciela quickly stands back up and proceeds to walk out the room, grabbing Ventor's sleeve and dragging him along with her. CIELA: (CONT’D) Where did she go?! Where is she?! VENTOR: Ugh-I-I don't know! Spanner and I were busy fixing up the Skylark this whole time! 38. CIELA: Are you friggen serious?! VENTOR: What do you mean? You were sleeping in the same room as her! INT./EXT. SPANNER'S HOUSE Ciela stops in her tracks as she begins to acknowledge that fact. CIELA: Uhh... EXT. DOWNTOWN DOCKVILLE-DAY Pyoma runs through the crowded sidewalks of Dockville with excitement. The downtown area of Dockville is a bustling floating market, with waterways interwoven between the buildings, allowing for travel via gondola, motorboat, and other bizarre vehicles, such as chariots pulled by large aquatic animals. Pyoma looks at this scene with wonder and curiosity, carefully traversing the area to get over to the market. As she tours the market, Pyoma comes across a store selling jewelry and artwork. Intrigued by it, she walks over to the counter, which is attended to by a tall SHOPKEEP lady. SHOPKEEP Why hello there, young lady. What're you doing in this market all dolled up? PYOMA: Oh! Hello, madam! Um, those pieces of jewelry look amazing! I read that Dockville is one of the largest entrepot trading cities in the world, so, um, would you accept a trade for that bracelet over there? Pyoma points to a silver bracelet inside the store's glass display case with a cloudy white gem fixed onto it. SHOPKEEP Sure are a well-spoken little kid, aren't you? (MORE) 39. SHOPKEEP (CONT’D) You Arbei types sure do love everything of yours to be as "hoity-toity" as possible. Pyoma removes an old golden badge displaying the insignia of the Arbei kingdom from her pocket, and is about to place it on the counter. PYOMA: How did you know I'm from the Arbei Kingdom? SHOPKEEP Ain't it obvious? The accent, the fancy getup, the fact that you don't really know your way around these parts? You practically reek of Arbei. Don't take none o' that the wrong way though, kid, you seem pretty nice, andPYOMA: What do you mean by that? SHOPKEEP Eh, don't let this old-timer's ramblings get to you, it's nothing. The shopkeep takes the badge from Pyoma's hand, and gives her the bracelet in exchange. Pyoma puts on the bracelet, as standing nearby inconspicuously, is a BANDIT, a man with slicked brown hair in a wetsuit who overhears this conversation, checks Pyoma's appearance against a "wanted" poster in his hand of her that offers large amounts of money, then runs off. SHOPKEEP (CONT’D) Pleasure doing business with you, young lady! Hope you enjoy your visit here! PYOMA: Thank you! Um, do you happen to know where I could find a ship to take me to the Arbei Kingdom? SHOPKEEP Oh! Well, the nearest boat station is just five minutes that way. Just remember, it's a long ways away, so make sure you're prepared! 40. PYOMA: Okay! Pyoma runs off in the direction the shopkeep pointed to. SHOPKEEP (To herself) What an odd young girl. The shopkeep looks at the badge Pyoma gave her. SHOPKEEP (CONT’D) Boy, this looks really old. EXT. DOCKVILLE STREETS-DAY Ciela and Ventor are running through the streets of Dockville in an attempt to find Pyoma. The swaying of the floating streets and the sloshing of the water all around them unnerves Ciela occasionally. CIELA: She can't have gone far! We need to check the boat stations, make sure she doesn't get away! As they run through the floating streets, Ciela and Ventor pass by the bandit from before, now accompanied by dozens more in similar attire, as they gather and loiter in a shady establishment/alleyway All of these bandits wear belts with explosive charges strapped to them, and wield handheld propellers as weapons. Donning masks that act as underwater breathing apparatus, the bandits jump into the water and use their handheld propellers to dive deep beneath the water's surface at incredible speed. EXT. BOAT STATION-DAY Amidst a large crowd of people from countries all over the world, Pyoma stands at a large pier, where dozens of people board and depart off of boats. Pyoma looks around in confusion, wondering where she needs to go. On a walkway a fair distance from the pier, Ciela and Ventor have arrived at the dock, searching for Pyoma, where Ciela spots her from afar.