#once again a character that shouldn’t have died but also should have met jack

[a-walking-fandom-reference]

charlie i love you so much

#once again a character that shouldn’t have died but also should have met jack #8.20 #rey watches spn

[jay-and-dean]

Don’t look down, Baby   Part 1/3

Dean x reader

Summary :  Dean told her to ignore the “thing” between them and to jump in any guy’s arms. Any of them but him.

When we think of a guy our Y/n could be with, longing for Dean, it’s usually a nice dude, a little boring, right ? Because who can compete with Dean ? Now, what if this guy was as badass as Dean ?

Characters : Dean Winchesters, Sam Winchester, Reader, Abraham Hale (OC)

Warnings : Angst, jealous Dean, Smut (unprotected sex -you’re smarter than this !-, oral, also kinda lame sex if it’s a warning), cheating, swearing, smoking, drinking... More warnings in the second part.

Wordcount : 6k (yes, just the part one... now you get why I cut it.)

Note : So for the Aestetic, I used the face of Jax Teller from Sons Of Anarchy, and you have to know, even if Abraham Hale looks like him, he is totally an OC.

This is writen both in Reader and Dean’s Pov. Dean’s thought are in italic. 

Text divider by the talented @talesmaniac89​

Jay’s Masterlist

September 16, 10:33pm

 Dean’s POV

           I always thought that when Y/n finds a guy, it would be the perfect douche I wanted for her. Some nice dude named Robert, a cop maybe, or a realtor with a friendly family.

           He would annoy me to death with his stories about growing up in a farm, and call her Pumpkin. He would worry a little when she goes out with us because he thinks we drink too much when we’re together.

           He would tear her from me and I would hate him for that. She would skip a hunt to meet his parents, another to spend a few days in the cabin he rented… But even if it breaks my heart, it would be exactly what I want for her, so I would let her go.

           I had it all planned.

           But, of course, she didn’t play by the rules.

           And that guy is no Robert…

           His loud manly laugh tears me from my thoughts. His tattooed hand wraps around his whiskey glass and I turn my head to that waitress that always gives me warm smiles, she’s staring at him now, with the sweetness that was once for me.

           Abe.

           Ex-gang member, Abe. Bad guy turned good. Raised by the widow of a gang member, in a violent environment, he already had a criminal record at fourteen, started selling guns before he was officially allowed to drink, ended up in prison at Twenty-two.

Sweet smile Abe. Reformed bad boy with an attitude. Became a hunter after he met a vampire gang and slew them to the last. Now defender of the good citizen, he found his fight, and the hunters talk about him as one of the bests.

Afraid of nothing and ready to fight, charismatic, alpha Abe. His muscular arm in the back of my girl, his long blond hair falling on his face when he lights up a cigarette in a grunt of content while she touches his neck.

Abe. My new nemesis.

“So Dean” he says with his deep voice hoarse from smoking too much. “How did you meet my girl ?”

I met her on a hunt, invited her to my room and took her on that wall. Do you remember, Y/n ? Don’t look down baby, look at me.

“On a hunt.”

“That’s how I met her too” he smiles and kisses her temple. “Seems like we have a lot in common.”

“Looks like we do” I state.

           Her eyes darken and she turns her head, I know how to read her, she is pissed, and I don’t even know why. I did nothing, I said nothing, and her rock-and-roll version of prince charming is worshiping her, so what causes that bitterness ?

What is it, baby ? Am I missing something ?

“So I heard your brother and you have this fucking palace ?” he gives me a corner smile, smoke coming out of his nose.

“Who told you that ?” I grunt.

What is the point of a secret bunker if it is as secret as a freaking tweet ?

           He chuckles and takes a sip of his whiskey, not answering.

           Abe never answers all the questions he is asked, maybe it is some cool thing for guys like him, maybe it is his way of look mysterious or powerful. What is sure is, as annoying as it is, it freaking works. But each time he smirks with his eyes lost in the bottom of his glass in a little huff instead of speaking, I get closer to losing it and smashing his pretty face on the table.

“I told him” she says almost coldly. “Like you did all your friends, Abe is my boyfriend, Dean.”

I nod. What can I say, she’s right after all. She’s always right…

           She was right about that cop being the bad guy the first time we hunted together, right about the fact that my so-called bond with Amara would fade the second she gets whatever she wanted. She was right about Jack being a good kid but dangerous enough to need to be watched and educated instead of pushed away. Right about Mary hurting me more than I admitted…

She was right when she said I was wrong. The day I told her we shouldn’t sleep together again, that she should just ignore that thing between us and jump in any guy’s arms. Any of them but me…

I really say that : any of them. I did.

Did you choose Abe just to annoy me, baby ? To prove a point ? You had to bring a guy who would beat me at my own grumpy-loner-badass-crap-drink-too-much game, right ?

“That place sounds sure awesome, because Y/n keeps coming back to it” he states, not letting me know the true meaning he puts in that sentence, his piercing blue eyes free of any emotions on the surface.

“Well it’s home for her” I say, and that bastard chuckles. “Is it funny ?”

“Not at all !” he says with a warm and kind laugh, and a friendly tap on my shoulder. “You should relax Dean, you look like the bar is full of demons !”

I stay stern, I know I should probably look friendly, but I rarely hated someone nice that much.

           He gets up and kisses her head before he walks away, his manly way to move catching women’s attention, and some men’s too. One of his hand goes through his blond hair while he walks to the bathroom with the other hand deep in his jeans’ pocket.

“So… Abe, huh ?” I ask, the second he’s gone.

           I should be more coherent, I know. I want her gone, but I want her for me. I was sure I was ready to see her with someone else, it’s been three years. Three years ! After we only made love six times. She is not mine, she never was.

And I thought calling her Baby in my head would make me strong. It’s a weird feeling, like I could let her be happy, but still feel special. I would have been the passion of her youth, the one that died young and of which she would think a little when she rocks her baby in her pretty house…

I had somehow romanticized my heartbreak.

But that doesn’t feel romantic at all. And all I can think of is that he is passion too, I’m not dead, and I just have to see him touch her and imagine them at night…

“Yes” she says, still with that bitterness in her voice. “You could make an effort, Dean. He has been nothing but nice, and you act like he’s an enemy.”

“I haven’t decided if he is one yet.”

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head in disapproval.

I recognize hurt. My Y/n, when she’s hurt, she gets angry. Always. And I made her angry so often. Her irritation is growing, I can see it in her burning eyes.

“You can’t do that” she says low. “You can’t treat him like that, no one gives you the right.”

“And him ?” I dare asking, staring at her reddened face. “Does he treat you right ?”

Her eyes fills with tears again and her jaw clenches.

“Better than you did, you mean ?” her words feel like a stab in my heart.

 Reader’s POV

           I didn’t want to say that, it came out by itself.

           I’m thin-skinned lately. I feel like I could cry or scream any moment, all the time. My emotions have always been loud, my sensibility overwhelming, but for a few weeks I’m drowning.

           The fact that I decided to try to get over Dean Winchester probably caused that.

A long time ago, I thought living with Dean without ever having him would be the worst, then I saw him with other women and was convinced I was mistaking before : the worst was definitely that. How wrong was I ?

           The worst is having had him. Not once, but several times, each time a little more intimate. More kisses, more touches, more suspended seconds watching in each other’s eyes… Until we spent that night together, that last night, and he fell asleep against me for the first time.

           It was over. It was too much for Dean, and not enough for me.

           Dean Winchester can’t belong to anyone, not again. He doesn’t want to be a boyfriend, and he doesn’t want me to be his girl ; who am I to insist ?

“Well, that’s a minimum” he answers in a soft groan after a little while, and my heart breaks because I just did what I swore I would never do : Reproach him for any of it.

“I’m sorry” I sigh, thinking of those weeks after the last night, when I had to hide the worst pain I ever felt because I didn’t want him to feel bad about not wanting me.

I still do... -feel that pain and try to hide- because Abe or not, I still live with Dean and he doesn’t deserve to carry my pain on top of the world on his shoulders.

“Can you at least try ?” I beg, low, seeing my boyfriend getting out of the restroom but stopping next to the door to talk to someone he obviously knows.

“Yes” Dean answers. “I’m just… He’s a hunter and…”

“He’s a good man” I assure him, looking at Abe walking toward us above Dean’s shoulder. “He comes from a dark place, like us, but he is a good man.”

 September 21, 08:12pm

 “That place is crazy !” Abe says, sitting at the table of the library. “I have never seen anything like this.”

           While Sam tells him a little more about the bunker, I look at my boyfriend.

           I stare at him, trying to get rid of that uncomfortable impression, that feeling screaming that he doesn’t belong here ; because if he doesn’t belong in the bunker, then he probably just has nothing to do in my life.

           A lot of memories cross my mind, like it happens a lot lately.

The memory of entering the bunker for the first time and deeply knowing that, as long as I am welcome here, this would be my home. Because it just feels right and because, even if I’m not the granddaughter of Henri Winchester, he trusted me with this place, as much as he trusted his family. That man actually welcomed me like Mary never really did, like I was just as legit as blood.

At his frank smile, the memory of meeting Abe crosses me too. I was alone in this hunter bar, trying to get information for a case. I hadn’t told Sam and Dean that I would go there, because I know how much uncomfortable the hunter community makes them. And I was introduced to him : Abraham Hale. I found him so beautiful, with his mischievous smile that seemed to mock the entire world, his wheat blond hair and his tattoos. Something felt so safe about him, not because he looked like a bad boy, but because he was light and happy, laughing at everything and taking nothing seriously… All that Dean wasn’t.

I loved his wild energy right away. Abe was like the drums in a rock song, like summer wind. In his arms, I forgot about Dean for a few seconds a day during the first weeks. We spent days sleeping and having sex behind the curtains of that motel room, hiding from summer heat, and nights drinking and listen to rock music...

But now I look at him, his bright blue eyes seem pale next to the deep green looking back, and his beauty is bland.

“Thank you for showing me your home, Treasure” he says, putting a tender hand on my back like he always does.

And my eyes cross Dean’s.

           I know what he’s thinking, he’s cringing at the nickname, and that reminds me why I am with Abe : Dean never gave me a nickname, he never called me anything else than my name, he will never and even when others do, he thinks it’s lame and cheesy.

 Dean’s POV

           That hurt on her face again.

Baby, you can’t look at me like that each time he calls you Treasure . I don’t like it, but you’re supposed to do.

           This is much harder than I thought, and I was aware it would be impossible.

           Each and every one of his actions makes me face my own contradictions : The more loving he is, the more I want to push him away from her. But the more she seems distant and to have her head in the clouds, the more it eases the pain. Am I selfish enough to hate her happiness even though I love her ?

           I was in control, during those three years not touching her, my heart was aching with craving and my soul was screaming at me to make her love me. But as much as the heartbreak was constant, I had chosen it. I was in control.

           I never realize that it was only bearable because she was still here, my partner, my best friend, my roommate. Mine.

           Now she took it back. She raised her middle finger right in my face and decided she wouldn’t be mine anymore.

And that is a whole new level of pain.

           I don’t sleep when she’s not home, and sometimes food just won’t let me eat it. She texts during our movie nights and wears that pendant he gave her. I hate that pendant because it reminds me I never gave her a present. Not once in all those years.

“Another drink ?” Y/n asks him with the bottle in her hand.

“Don’t you drive ?” I cut him before he answers and I see her eyes shoot me with imaginary bullets.

I’m sorry Baby but it’s movie night tonight, can’t he just leave already ?

“He’s right” she says giving me a little hope that she will ask him to leave soon. “You should stay for the night.”

My breathing gets stuck in my lungs.

No Baby, don’t do that to me. Please.

“With pleasure !” he smiles.

 September 21, 11:49pm

 Reader’s Pov

           He grabs my thigh to lift it a little and grunt in my ear. His kisses are hot on my neck, his heavy body moving cautiously on top of me.

           My eyes are on the ceiling, my hands on his sweaty muscular back and I wait.

           Damn, what is happening ? He’s close, I am going to fake it ? I swore I would never fake, I swore if the guy can’t get me there, he should know, but… Abe is not the problem, I am.

           I just watch the ceiling wondering what is wrong with me. He did everything right, nice foreplays and those love words he always has for me. But nothing seems to turn me on anymore, and without the need and the pleasure, his thrusts are just uncomfortable and I feel weird.

           Come already.

           I sigh. I know what is making this impossible. Dean. This fucker is the last I had in my own bed, the only one in fact. And everything reminds me that Abe is not Dean fucking Winchester !

“You okay Treasure ?” he pants in my ear, nibbling at it.

I’m not a freaking snack, what is it with his mouth and teeth always ?

“Yes” I fake a moan. “I’m close Abe, come.”

Just don’t be loud, that would be so awkward.

           When he loses rhythm, I close my eyes at the relief, it won’t be long now, make it stop. He shakes a little and grunt loud, filling the condom inside of me ; and, to make my fake moans credible, I clench my walls around him one time or two, rolling my eyes at his proud groan.

           Sex with Abe used to be so much more than this. I'm getting frustrated. Did I break something in me ? Why can't I enjoy anything anymore ?

           He rolls on my side, panting, and smiles tenderly at me. He’s beautiful, I have to admit that, and he’s nice and loving.

“You’re amazing” he hums. “I guess I can’t smoke in your bedroom ?”

“I don’t mind” I answer sincerely. “The air co is magical, just, don’t smoke more than one.”

           He sits on the bed to get his pants, his beautiful tattooed back on me. The smoke flies in pretty wreath. I put my hand on the lion tattooed on his back. It suits him, with his solar attitude and his confidence, his beautiful blond hair…

           Yet I keep longing for my wolf.

 Dean’s Pov

           Now I know I could kill him. And now I know what the limit amount of pain I can take is.

           I pace my room like a crazy man. He is taking her, my Baby. He is sinking inside of her and stealing pleasure. Does she wrap her legs around him like she always did with me ? To push me deeper. Is she as responsive ? As lost in pleasure as she was ? With that way only she has too beg for more with her entire body, voice strangled and arms caging me the best she can…

           Is she…

“F-fuck…” I whine, holding my heart.

I think I just felt it break.

Baby…

Breathing is painful now, I feel like I’m drowning.

Baby… Why did you have to do that to me ? I know I hurt you but your revenge is unbearable.

I sit on my bed, still holding my chest.

I can’t take it, you know.

“Shit” I grunt.

How can this kind of familiar panic attack be back ? How can this hurt so much ? It’s not Hell, it’s not Purgatory…

“It is Hell” I say out loud.

Loosing you, Baby. It’s Hell. Do you love him ? Because…

“Fuck, I love her” I whine.

 September 28, 06:05pm

             Sitting in my “Fortress of Deanitude”, I wait. The tray with snacks is there, beers too, and Netflix is ready for our next episode of Stanger Things.

           But there is a big chance she won’t come. Our movie nights are getting rarer and rarer, like our time together in general. And this place is slowly becoming a Fortress of Solitude…

           You never know how much you need something until you lost it, right ? I was stupid enough to think I could be stronger than the need for her and now look at me, alone in that big empty room in a bigger emptier bunker.

           All I can think of is how much each day pulls her closer to him and further from me. They are building memories in which I’m not, they are building an intimacy that I lost three years ago. She will forget me and he will have her, maybe even make her change a little, until one day she is among those people who talk about their personal tastes by saying “we”. “We prefer red wine”.

           Ew.

           Is he going to change my girl, for real ? Make her love Led Zeppelin a little less, make her a little less her, make her want other things, another life, need me less ? Our things will become unimportant and be replaced by all kind of other things I have no idea about.

           I take a long sip of my glass. It’s not like I had my word to say anyway. I lost her. I lost her in the worst way possible : willingly.

           But just when I’m about to get up and go put the snacks away, she opens the door, panting a little, like she had ran.

“Dean” she says entering the room. “I’m sorry. There was an accident on the road and the traffic was disturbed.”

You were at his place, Baby, and you ran to me ?

A little smile lights up my face when her presence revive my heart.

“It’s okay” I say.

“I’m late, but I have…” she takes her hand out of her purse. “Giant skittles !”

“You found them ?” I smile, sitting straighter when she hands me a bag.

Our things are not all gone. And she still cares about me and about our time together.

“Yup ! I made Abe stop in every shop yesterday.”

So you think of me when you’re with him, Baby ? Have you ever thought of me while he was inside of you ?

“Sit” I pat the armchair next to mine. “Let’s find out if Dusty’s girlfriend exists !”

“I really hope !” she exclaims, taking off her jacket.

I try not to look at her, but when she quickly takes off her jeans to slip in her pajamas pants, I swallow hard. Those thighs could have been for me, and I could have watched the show while holding her.

           She sits with her knees up against her chest in the big chair next to me, and takes a beer. My eyes are glued to her, looking for anything unusual, and fearing it more than anything in the same time.

“What ?” she calls me out of my thoughts.

“Nothing, I…” have no idea how to finish this sentence.

“I’m still okay you know ?” she says without looking at me, playing with the label of her beer bottle. “You always stare at me like something had happened to me. I know what you think of Abraham, but he doesn’t treat me bad.”

 Reader’s Pov

“I’m sorry” he sighs. “You know how protective I can get. Especially with you…”

A chuckle escapes me and I know he doesn’t like it, but protective with me ? He broke my heart. He ripped it and threw it on the floor because I had said those words.

“Yeah…” I nod, nibbling at my lip. “You won’t find bruises on me.”

He doesn’t answer.

           When did we become like this ?

           After a silence, he hands me candies and presses play. But, chewing on sugar and my eyes on the screen, I keep my full attention on him.

           I have everything any girl would want : A lover with hot blood, beauty and a heart of gold. But I'm not any girl, and the only thing I want is Dean Winchester. The genius who thinks he's dumb, the scared little boy who lost his mom, the leader, the victim of his fate, the killer, the loyal friend, the rebel, the torturer, the perfect brother, the wary hunter, the crappy dancer ; grumpy Dean, childish Dean, stubborn Dean, all of Dean...

           I look at him and my eyes travel down his neck, his beard is fighting to grow back there but I know he won't let it. The slow movements of his chest are mesmerizing. My eyes go down, to his thighs and crotch...

           I really shouldn't let myself look there but his smell and aura are like a mermaid song and I'm drowning. His strength is radiating of him and I feel myself respond to it in everyone of my heartbeats.

           He could make me scream. He always did, so easily. Dean made me cry of pleasure more than once, sometimes without any effort, the brushes of his fingers, the burning of his kisses... And when he finally buried himself inside of me, it was like a firework in Heaven. He never had to do anything really special...

           And now I wonder : Is something broken about me ? Abe is passionate and loving, we used to work great, he was easy as whiskey. And he loves me. Why am I unable to enjoy any of it lately ?

           My eyes trace the bump in Dean’s pants and I remember the simple ecstasy of feeling his cock twitch for me. Dean... I bite my lip to hold back the moan hanging on my tongue. His thigh moves a little, strong muscles hidden in his jeans, and I think of his stomach contracting that time he came on my tongue. I…

“I see you” his deep serious voice hits the air like thunder.

I look up to meet his eyes and realize I have been staring at his crotch, licking my lips and probably visibly holding back moans.

“Do you need something ?” he asks with a proud aura on his face.

I want to punch that expression off of his perfect features.

           I look down and sigh. Yes, I do. I need him, not only want like I would like to think, but need indeed. I need him to feel my body, to make it alive, and to hear my soul breathe again.

“Dean…” I just say.

Like it was an answer or reproach but of course, he hears it for what it is.

           A call.

           So he gets up, suddenly so tall that he eclipses the TV, the light and my will. He comes in front of me, standing there, making me look up timidly through my lashes. His strong hand lands cautiously on my cheek, gently holding my face while I lean on his touch.

           I can resist him. I can.

           I think of Abe's sweet smile, of his deep voice and his arms around me. I think of this night he told me about jail and I tried all I could to make him feel safe again, that was a beautiful moment... We are something beautiful Abe and me. We are going to make it right, to make it count. Right ?

           As my heart fights itself, playing all the love songs I know at once in my head in a deafening dim of emotions, my eyes fill with tears. I know what is going to happen, and the cruel god writing my story can stop there, the end is already obvious.

           I can't resist Dean. I just can't.

           And Abe will cry, right ? He trusts me. He will take his bag and yell maybe, the sun inside of him will get clouded, he will drive away. Then I will let my body slide on the door frame, unable to hold my weight up, because I will have broken the only man that ever truly loved me.

           I look down to hide the pain from Dean, but he knows me better.

"I can leave" he says.

But it's the last thing I want because I miss him, I miss him like a part of me died years ago and I still feel empty and cold... I miss him when I'm alone, and even more when I'm not.

           When he's about to move, take a step back to leave me alone, I grab his belt and hold him in place firmly. I have no plan, no solid thought, but I know I can't be away from him for now. He smells both like the most familiar home and the wildest dream.

           My other hand grazes the fabric of his jeans on his thigh, I close my eyes for a second and a little whimper escapes me. I started touching Dean less than a day after meeting him, and it seems I can't be around him without having my hands on his body.

           He hums, staring down at me, bow legs slightly parted like he needed balance, like he was gripping the floor for both of us. Dean had always been my anchor. His shoulders look wider from down here and I want nothing more than letting my hands grab his butt to rub my cheek on his crotch like a cat marking its territory.

"Touch me like you need it, Baby" he murmurs and a little sob escapes me unexpectedly.

He never ever called me Baby.

           He never gave me any nickname like he never gave me the place I thought I could take in his heart. And Abe, he calls me Treasure. He welcomed me in his heart...

"What's wrong ?" Dean asks like he didn't know.

Dean Winchester is the world's greatest hero, saved basically everyone's life without any reward, and for this he is a saint ; and still, he's the one that is going to be the end of me. Hero or not, he's my villain.

"Everything is wrong, Dean" I answer in a broken voice. "Everything."

He squats in front of me and my hand panics at losing my grip on his belt so it grasps his flannel like my life depends on it.

"Not everything" he whispers, bending to let his poisonous lips graze my skin.

My treacherous mouth opens in reflex at the proximity of his, making him respond by biting my lower lip. I whimper again and pull him closer.

"I got you" he states, letting his burning lips trace down my chin and my neck followed by his thumb, scratching my skin with his short nail. And I catch fire.

I let my head falls back and I surrender totally.

           That's how bad he is for me : I could let him break my heart again without an hesitation, after it took me years to recover just enough to just function. And oh, I will. I will shatter the heart of the man that trusts me just to let Dean selfishly remind me how much I love him.

           His breath is burning my skin, spreading in the fabric of my t-shirt when he buries his face on my chest, opening his mouth wide to pretend to bite my breast, hand cupping my sides like he had missed me for real. I let go of the plaid fabric to grip the short strand of his hair like I can.

"Dean..." the moan I have been holding comes out, filling the room with sin and the echo of future lies.

"I got you" he repeats.

His hungry hands seize my jeans and tear it open, fighting the metallic button's resistance brutally. The fabric hurts my lower back in a last resistance but is ripped off of me the second after, taking my panties in its way.

           And before I can sit straighter now that I'm on the edge of the chair, before I can talk, think or breath. Dean's anaconda arms grab my thighs firmly and his burning breath is on my folds.

"Wh-" I start but what can I say now.

He kisses my folds like no men ever did : like he was in love with that part of me. An open mouth kiss, tongue eagerly lapping my juice from my entrance to my clit.

"AH !" I scream, arching my back but Dean doesn't take a second to breathe, burying his face on me.

I squirm, licking my lips like I was kissing him back but the place he is devouring can only respond with throbs and getting soaked, which is does.

           I'm panting, I'm being eaten by the flames of that indescribable pleasure that is back. My stomach is shaking, my temples are beating so loud. I suck a breath when he sucks at my clit, moist hand gripping the leather of the chair.

"Dean" I moan again in the subdued light of the warm room.

He answers with a hum, and his nimble tongue pushes at my entrance, making my thighs shake violently in the vise grip of his arms.

           I can't escape what Dean does to me so I let go.

           My whole body falls backward when I come, harder than I have in years, holding his hair so tight it might hurt him, legs shaken by electricity, back arching and chest fighting itself to breath. My sensible clit seems to have nerves in my whole body and I fall silent, covered in sweat, suffocated by a forbidden crushing orgasm.

           I whimper desperately, limp and lost, panting in the chair like I didn't realize yet what just hit me. But Dean knows what he's doing, he knows where this goes.

           He opens his jeans, I can feel it even though I don't see him, my head still back, moaning at the caresses of his tongue on my neck. I bite my lip hard, hand moving from the arm of the chair to his, to feel his eagerness.

           And he grabs my thighs harshly, making me fall on the floor with him and holds my back when I can't, keeping me against him.

"So wrong..." I whisper in a dying echo of my disgrace.

His hand grasps my face firmly and makes me look at him. His eyes have this fire in them, he clenches his jaw when I roll my lips a little, wetting his craved cock on me, dying of being finally filled by him.

"Keep your eyes on me" he groans, grabbing his length to guide it at my throbbing entrance.

"Dean..." I moan, fingers reaching his stomach under his clothes to feel it tremble.

"Eyes on me baby" he repeats low.

 Dean's Pov

           She can't think of him. Not now. I need her with me, I need her for me.

Feel me, baby.

           I smile slightly when she dives her unfocused pupils in my eyes. She's perfect and I love her ; but I must say when she seems to surrender so completely to my touch, that's when forgot why I asked her to stay away.

           When I enter her, her phone lights up once again in her back, on the floor. I groan loud as she wraps me like only she can, like she was trying to suck me inside her core. She's shaking, she's fighting to keep her eyes on me and I'm fighting that urge to grab her phone and shatter it in a million pieces against the wall.

           She gasps, her body threatening to fall back so I hold her.

That's it baby, stay with me, feel me, let me take you like I used to when you were mine.

My hand fists her hair and my mouth gets attracted to her pulse point so I bend to suck at it, barely thrusting for now, just enjoying to be inside of her, feeling her pulsating with desire, the concrete hard floor digging in my knees.

           Her arms wrap around me, she cling to me and I try to ignore my jealousy shouting at me.

Baby, you try to ignore me but can he do that to you ? Can he turn you into a purring cat like that ?

"Dean" she moans, clenching around me, her thighs trying to get herself even closer so she takes me impossibly deeper.

"Say you want me" I murmur against her skin in a voice I barely recognize.

"I want you" she gives in, exhaling in my ear.

           Behind her, her phone lights up one more time with a text : "I found us a case in California, Treasure."

=> PART 2

FEEDBACK IS GOLD

Tags : @parinarain @mogaruke @masterof-agony @rainflowermoon @tftumblin @deans-baby-momma @roonyxx @thefaithfulwriter @vicariouslythruspn @emeow1496 @daryldixonandfrogs @holylulusworld  @cocklesbelli @sandlee44 @screenchingartisancashbailiff @donnaintx @stormchasingchick32 @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @sister-winchesters99 @neii3n  @lyss-dw79 @im-a-shrub @sadwaywardkid​@hopelesslydevotedtoyou1912 @slyqueenj​ @i-love-superhero​ @waywardsisterandpie @sunsetsandbooks​ @mrspeacem1nusone​ @stylesismyhubs​ @deanwanddamons​ @jawritter​ @peridottea91​ @chelsea072498 @chocolateheart​ @vicmc624​ @teresa-67​ @jessie-michael​ @doctor-hp-mcu​ @hawkerz12​ @mariaenchanted​ @hobby27​

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #SPN #spn fic #SPNFamily #spn dean x reader #dean winchester #Supernatural Dean Winchester #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester x reader #Smut #dean winchester smut #fluff #dean winchester fluff #jealous dean winchester #cheating #OC #angst #jay and dean #part 1 #don't look down baby

[eyeless-cunt]

Ej being w a sexual shy reader

prompt 9 (?)

I mashed all of these prompts together into one— I thot they would fit 😳 (however it’s a lil different uwu)

also i listened to ego death by Mieke while writing this it goes with it WELL, so you should listen to it >:)) ON LOOP

🔪————————————————————————🌸

Summary: Y/N is alone and not fine with it. Ej is alone but fine with it. They mix. Ej remembers that his love is not immortal like him.

Word count: 3.3k

NSFW: u h. yes. It’s pretty mild tho and very VERY soft

Warnings: mild depression, grief, loss of a loved one, EXTREME FLUFFY NSFW, mentions of eating humans, mentions of reader death, slight angst, very fluffy, ej loves reader very much

Tag List: @jouchann

🌸————————————————🔪

Y/n was always shy. She grew up quiet, she lacked presence. She never raised her hand—nor her voice. She was talked over and trampled on. She grew up with loving yet quickly fading grandparents. They tried to give her attention but the life was draining out of them and quite frankly they wanted to spend their last years in the arms of their loving spouse. She didn’t mind, she figured she would rather spend all of her remaining time with her significant other as well. Although she had always figured that something like that was nowhere close to her in the near future. Or further future to be honest. She was too shy and small in character to make a lasting impact on anyone, after all.

Falling in love with an immortal demon wasn’t something shy girls did. Outgoing girls did that, spontaneous and loud and adventurous. Those were the type of girls to experience this. Confident and sure of themselves. Shy girls met someone in a library, in a coffee shop, maybe on a park bench. Not in the woods at four a.m. sobbing about their grandparents death.

It was cold and dark and wet. Her face was wet from tears and wet from rain, her fingertips and lips were red and freezing, ready to burst. She couldn’t go back inside. Not yet, not now. It had been a week since their death, her grandpa dying of simply old age, her grandmother fading one hour after digesting the news and coming to terms with it. Her heart was simply too broken. Instantaneous heart failure. They left her everything. The car, the house, the money, the cat— their belongings. She didn’t want any of it right now. She had no other family, no close friends. She was simply not the type to make a lasting impact on someone.

She didn’t want to go back to that house. She didn’t want to see their things laying around, now her things. They were all she had, how was she supposed to go on, being alone? She hated being alone and lonely and alone. If anything, the woods behind her house was almost comforting. The feeling of being watched, which usually would give someone chills and paranoia—helped. She wasn’t alone, she would walk into that house and her grandparents would wave hello at her, they would be holding hands from their separate but close recliners, watching whatever new show they found interesting at the moment.

Obviously, that wouldn’t happen. But she still thought it, hoped. Which was why she couldn’t go back inside. It would make it too real, they wouldn’t be there, she would be truly alone. As long as she didn’t go inside to see for herself, they might be still sitting inside, waiting for her. So she couldn’t go inside, or they wouldn’t be there anymore.

It was colder then before, even though the rain had stopped. The grass was starting to freeze, the sun had gone down more than two hours ago. She sat still against a tree trunk, holding her knees to her chest. She was tired, it was cold out here. She didn’t know if her fingers were still red or if they had turned blue. She didn’t have enough energy to check. Animals scurried around her, as if they knew she wouldn’t do them any harm. They knew she was incapable, so they ignored her and roamed around freely.

Her eyes were closing and opening, closing and opening, over and over and over again. Her head swayed, but she fought to stay up. Would her grandparents still be there if she fell asleep? She didn’t know, so she fought to stay awake. Her body won over her mind however, and soon her body slumped over as she hit the ground, her arms still curled into herself.

🔪Eyeless’s P.O.V🔪

I felt kinda bad. I mean, this girl was just sitting in my woods crying while it was raining. Watching her felt like an invasion of privacy...but then again she was in my woods. It was only fair that I watch her to make sure she didn’t get into any trouble. How did she even get in? It seems that tall prick needs to up his game.

I was patient. I had lived a very long time, I had an endless amount of time to do whatever I wanted. I knew that waiting for someone or something meant nothing. However I did worry about her time. How long had it been? I figured pretty long when she slumped over onto the icy grass, sound asleep. Humans felt temperature, didn’t they? She would get hypothermia if this continued. I had already eaten. I wasn’t hungry. Being feral every once in a while really made you full as hell for a few weeks. The thought of more food grossed me out considering I had eaten so much. She was safe, for now. If she ever came in my woods again however, I wouldn’t be too sure.

So in a moment of rare kindness for something like me, I dropped down from my tree and crouched to get a good look at her. Was she a run-away? She looked young but...I sifted through her pockets. An old tattered wallet. She had a driver’s license, not that much else. Then again I didn’t really look, just wanted to find an ID of some sort. She was an adult. So homeless? No. She didn’t look it. So just having a mental breakdown? probably. I picked her up, and felt the cold in her skin. It didn’t affect me but it certainly made me worried-ish for her.

I didn’t know where to take her. Where did she live, where did she come from? I couldn’t just take her with me, could I? No, definitely not. She would scream and argue and thrash as soon as she saw me. Well, I guess I could just say I was a cosplayer. Of some...random obscure villian or something. If she didn’t believe it and thrashed and screamed then I would just kill her. Easy. Take her home, warm her up, take her back to her home, done and easy. I hadn’t done something this kind for someone I considered my food in a very long time.

I adjusted her in my arms, trying not to press on her her or hold her too tight. Trying to hold back strength was not something I had done in an even longer time, and I was not used to it. I’m not sure how long it took to get there, but halfway I noticed the blue of her lips. I took off my sweatshirt and pulled it on over her head, not bothering to stick her arms through. She would retain more heat that way anyways. I’m not sure if i’m warm or cold, so it was a gamble to hold her closer to my chest. I did so anyways and started to jog, wanting to get there before she died.

When we got there I immediately turned on the heat. My house had many functions I didn’t use, although it seemed they finally had a use. I closed all the windows and doors, and grabbed a few blankets the previous (now long dead—like over 100 years dead) home owners had owned and kept in a spare closet. I laid her on the couch, although I wondered if my bed would work better for retaining heat. I figured there was no difference and kept her there, laying blankets on her. She would probably need a warm bath, but I figured she wouldn’t want me to stick her in there for fear of her wet clothes. I didn’t see an issue with undressing her but I vaguely recalled a moment when I walked in on Jane showering. I didn’t see an issue, she hit me with every bottle in there.

I wasn’t sure of what else I could do for her, so I ended up sitting in front of her on the couch. It was a few hours before she woke up, but I was patient. I have time. I wondered if I would have to kill her or not. I wouldn’t want to eat her, so it would be a waste.

🔪Third person P.O.V🌸

She had a short dream. Grey skin, navy blue, hot tar leaking out of holes in the wall, screaming. A lot of fire and singing. Then she didn’t dream at all. When she woke up, she was surprisingly comfortable. Her back hurt a little, and was a little cold, her hands were a bit numb, and she was sleeping on a soft yet bumpy surface. She liked being wrapped in these blankets, but she couldn’t seem to free her hands. They were trapped in something and she was far too weak to move them very much. He was surprisingly amused. She didn’t seem to know what was restricting her arms, and she didn’t seem all too panicked.

He thought her look of frustration was funny. They made eye contact. Kinda. They talked, although they don’t really remember what about. It took a long time, they weren’t sure how long, but eventually they entered a mutual relationship. Falling in love with immortal demons wasn’t something shy girls did.

Yet here she was. Her head in the lap of an immortal demon who she was in fact in love with. She never did end up going into that house, she tried. She tried and tried but the thought of her grandparents not being there when she walked in always stopped her. She always somehow found her way back to Jack’s house. Over and over and over and over again. Somehow she found her way into his lap. He absentmindedly played with her hair, not sure of what was happening on the Tv. He only installed it because she was always bored when he was gone. He didn’t mind the noise, as long as it wasn’t too loud.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he had last gone ‘feral’. It seemed crude to call it that, but technically that’s what he did. He planned on never getting into that state as long as Y/N was alive. Or at least around him. He hadn’t eaten in a week. He grimaced, knowing his last helping shouldn’t even of lasted him this long. He needed to go. He needed to hunt. But she seemed so content in his lap, and he knew he wouldn’t turn for at least another week if this continued. He had time. He could let her stay like this. She yawned, and looked up at him, smiling sweetly. He was sure he could feel his chest warm up his entire body.

She sat up and turned to lift up his mask, pecking him lightly on the cheek and giving another sweet smile. He never thought of humans as sweet creatures. But the woman in his lap was very sweet. Sweeter than any human he’d ever killed and tasted. Sweeter than the sugar water BEN had forced down his throat once. She was soft and quiet, until she opened her mouth. She had a lot to say then. He had time. He could listen. He could be patient. He would always be patient with her.

He wasn’t so sure how patient he’d be if he went feral. But swiped that thought out of his head. He wouldn’t go feral. He would hunt tomorrow—that’s what he decided. Sure she’d be by herself for a day or two but she knew the drill. He’d feel a bit bad as she clung to him, hopping he wouldn’t leave. A little guilty as he walked away from her as she held back tears. But she knew the drill.

He sometimes forgot that she didn’t have as much time as him. Forgot that one day she would leave this world and her human body would rot and decay into nothingness. She wouldn’t be sweet anymore. She’d be bones that he’d bury under a tree or some shit. He would pass her grave in a thousand years and he might not remember her voice by then. That thought sent him spiraling.

She would die. She was human. One day her life would end. The thought of him forgetting her voice, the way her kisses taste so sweet, the feel of her hands in his hair as a tv he didn’t give two fucks about droned on in the background. He didn’t want to forget. He never wanted to forget how warm her body was, the only temperature he’d ever actually felt. The only thing he’d ever actually love.

He didn’t want to leave her anymore. He hated leaving her. He’s never loathed anything more than being apart from her and knowing that while he was away, she was aging. She would grow old. Her bones would become brittle, and her eyesight would leave her. He would lose her and have to bury her in the ground. Cover her in dirt while bugs chewed at her corpse.

But he had to go. Or he would lose her even earlier, to himself. That would be unbearable. He would never be able to live thousands of more years peacefully if that happened. He might get over it, after how long. That made him hate himself. He looked down at her, her eyes trained to the Tv ahead of them. He leaned down to kiss her forehead, and when he pulled back she pushed foreward and caught him by the mouth. He couldn’t help but think about how sweet she was.

She pushed him back even farther, and he let her. Her hands pulled him closer, as close as he could get. She would never get enough of him, of how soft he was. His skin was soft, and so was his mouth. She was sure he’d never picked at the skin there like she had. A bad habit that made her lips bleed and harden. It made her self conscious, but Jack never seemed to mind. She was glad. She wasn’t expecting him to pull away and pull off his shirt. Sure, they’d gotten showers together and all that, but that wasn’t an action with sexual intent behind it. They’d never gotten that far. She assumed he never wanted it, or that she wasn’t desirable. Or maybe demon-like creatures like him just weren’t into things like that.

Him pulling her into his lap seemed to tell her otherwise. She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands. Her mind was a mess. Were they about to have sex? Did he want it? Did she want it? Of couse she did. But did he? Her hands shook, so she gripped his arms, a bit embarrassingly. He probably noticed. He kissed her forehead, sweetly.

“Do you want to?”

She practically gulped. She was incredibly nervous, and her anxiety kept reaching new heights. She’d never even kissed someone before Jack came into her life. She had never been close enough to a person before. This went from 0-100 in minutes. She nodded anyways, but he didn’t seem to believe her.

“Are you sure? You look pale. We don’t have to. We can just go back to cuddling and watching Tv. Okay?”

“No, i’m just nervous. I’ve never done any of this.”

“That’s okay. I don’t think I have either.”

“You don’t think?”

“I don’t remember much of my human life. I might’ve, but who knows?”

That made her laugh a little, even though it was a bit sad. She felt better, but was still nervous. What if He didn’t like her body, or he was grossed out by it? When was even the last time she shaved literally anything on her body? Probably at least a week or two. She was sure he’d find that disgusting.

“We really don’t have to. Especially if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to. But I also haven’t shaved it a while.”

He wanted to laugh at that. That was her reason? He thought it was silly, but if it was serious for her then he’d try to take it seriously too.

“I don’t care about things like that.”

“I haven’t gotten a shower.”

“I don’t care about that either, but if getting a shower and whatever else would make you feel more comfortable then you can do that, obviously. But I really, really, don’t care about any of that stuff.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am positive. It seems a bit shallow to really care about something like that. And I honestly find you beautiful no matter what form to appear in. I would still love you just the same if you were covered in dog shit. I wouldn’t fuck you until you got a bath...but I would still love you.”

He felt like she needed just the right amount of love and validation from him to feel more confident, and he hoped he was making her feel better.

“I love you.”

He smiled at her and replied back with, “I love you too.”

He decided not to add ‘more’ or they would get into a full verbal war over who loved and missed who more. It was endearing to watch her fight over it so seriously, but tiring when it went on for more than thirty minutes.

He kissed her forehead again, waiting for her to make the next move. He wouldn’t do anything if she didn’t want him to something. He tried to be gentle and caring with her at all times, even if he didn’t know what he was doing. Even if it was the opposite of his nature.

She moved a bit cautiously, and he thought it was cute. Her mouth caught his, and he let her lead. He didn’t exactly know what he was doing anyways, so he figured he might as well go with it. She never sped up, so he didn’t either. She pulled off her clothes slowly, and still a bit nervously. He asked her again if she was sure. And she said yes, and kissed him harder.

He waited till she seemed more comfortable, then picked her up and carried her to the bed. The couch looked uncomfortable to her, and he didn’t want that to be a factor in her nervousness. She felt so soft, and he briefly wondered what he did to deserve this. This sweetness.

She held him closer to her, wrapping her legs against his waist. She had the quick thought that even his waist was perfect, and that that wasn’t really fair. His grey skin somehow made him even prettier, and she continued to think that through the whole night. He was gentle with her, even at the cost of his own pleasure. To him, it was worth everything and more to see her writhe under him, gripping onto him like there was no tomorrow. Her nails dug into his back, and she apologized profusely afterwards, even though he absolutely loved it.

He wanted to watch her move like that everyday for the rest of his never ending life. He only focused on her, and the faces she made. She would try to hide her face in his shoulder, or with a hand, but he always pulled it away so he could see. He kissed her everywhere, touched her everywhere, and she returned the favor, even though they really both had no idea what they were doing at first. It was endearing to watch her do her best for him, and Jack thought he’d never need anything else if only he could have her forever.

One day, she would turn to ash. But until then they would spend every moment they had together loving each other beyond comparison. He would spend his every waking moment living for her, until she would live no more.

#was it sad enough #hehe 👉👈 #🌸 #creepypasta #eyeless jack #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta fanfiction #creepypasta fic #fic #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack fanfic #eyeless jack fic #slight angst #slight pp warning #fluff #creepypasta fluff

[olivinesea]

Space Is Only Noise If You Can See, pt. 2

Part 1

a/n: Even slower than normal, sorry! There’s a lot going on in my world and it turns out it’s rather exhausting to be evil. All the same warnings apply: major character death, guns, blood, violence, suicide, etc. This train is only moving in one direction (straight to hell). ~2.8k

The nightmare continues.

That night he called Emily. It hadn’t been planned. In fact he had been hoping to have someone else call her, fill her in on the tragedy. That way he knew she would get the truth and not the distorted reflection of facts bounced around by his mind. But when he woke up in the middle of the night, breathing hard after yet another repetition of the nightmare, he decided he needed to call Emily. She needed to know and and he needed to hear her voice. Maybe her familiar words could chase away some of these ghosts. The coffins were getting closer all the time and he was almost certain he saw someone pushing them in his direction.

It was 3 am and he had barely slept at all. He went to the kitchen for water and checked on Jack before sitting back down to call her. He pulled his knees into his chest like an overgrown child and waited for her to pick up. She was grouchy even though it wasn’t all that early for her. She was always unreasonable at what he considered very reasonable times of day. When she saw his name flash across the screen, she wasn’t worried about the timing because she knew he didn’t sleep well. She had stopped trying to keep track of when he should be asleep years ago, the math making her dizzy with how small the number of hours he’d reliably rest seemed to be.

“What do you want now Hotchner?”

It was a game they played with one another. A false severity, all business. Seeing who would crack first. They both missed each other badly, each having been the other’s anchor through so much, but they tried not to say it. It only hurt more.

He felt bad that he couldn’t warn her this wasn’t a normal call, that there was no play in the gravity of his voice. He held his breath while he decided what to say first.

“Aaron?” Her tone immediately took on an edge. Damn her, she was so attuned to him, even four thousand miles away, she knew something was wrong without him breathing a word.

“Spencer is…Spencer died,” he managed to stutter out.

She didn’t become frantic, a quality he had always appreciated about his closest friend. She was quiet for a moment before prompting him. “How?”

He shook his head, it still didn’t make sense to him. He had brought home the report, hoping that the clearly typed details, the stomach-turning photographs, could convince him. That their fixed structures might settle his mind.

“We’re not sure. He just…they found him in the river. It looks like he jumped sometime early Sunday.”

She was silent. Of all the possible responses, that was not one she would have guessed.

“And…” he trailed off, not sure if he could tell her about the phone call. He hadn’t told anyone yet. He selfishly kept Spencer’s phone with him, checking it every couple hours to see if anything had changed, if his memory was betraying him, again. No one had questioned him about it.

“Did he leave a note?” Leave it to Emily to be practical. They were all so dazed, reliving the last days, weeks, trying to remember something that they overlooked. Surely they wouldn’t have missed something so large.

“No, not that we’ve found.”

“Well,” her seriousness now very real, “there could be another explanation then.”

“Em…” He was already weary of this conversation started with JJ. He didn’t think he could expend any energy trying to convince Emily as well. Not when so much of his effort needed to go into making sure he was on the right page, the right date, the right series of events.

“Think about it.” She was blunt. “Reid would never go without an explanation. He couldn’t. He can’t keep his mouth shut. It wouldn’t be possible for him to just leave everyone without some kind of goodbye.”

He waited, not contradicting her. It made sense, what she was saying. But he didn’t know if it was only because he didn’t want to believe the alternative. He also didn’t know what that would mean. If Spencer hadn’t taken his own life, who had?

“Well, we are still waiting on a full investigation. Either way, we’ve lost him.”

“Will you be handling the investigation?” she asked.

“No, not this time,” he replied. He had already bent the rules too many times, both recently and over the entirety of his career. There was no urgency to this, no immediate threat, no one to save. What had happened was over, the pain was irreversible. There was no reason it had to be them formally digging into the details of Spencer’s last days.

“I’ll be on a plane this afternoon. There’s a few things I need to take care of but I can be there by tomorrow.”

“Emily, that’s not necessary.”

“Like hell it’s not. Aaron Hotchner you are not going to deal with this alone.”

“Thank you, Em,” his response was quiet, fearful even. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide the slithering doubts in his mind from her, not if she was there beside him. The things he had worked so hard to hide from the others would be exposed once she got ahold of him. He just hoped she knew how to rebuild as well as she knew how to burn it all down.

*

The next day they gathered in the round table room. Everyone was on edge, clearly having gotten little sleep. Hotch told them they could take time off if they need. He’d informed the director that they were unavailable for the next week at least, there was nothing urgent for them to do. He wasn’t going to force them one way or another, he knew they all had different ways of coping. They filtered out of the room aimlessly with glazed expressions. Hotch ducked his head and returned to his office.

About an hour later he looked up from his papers to see Morgan leaning on the doorframe. He gestured an invitation to the chairs opposite his desk. Derek sat heavily, pulling at his collar like it was too tight.

“Are you okay?” It was a stupid question, they both knew it.

Morgan shook his head, restless. “I just don’t get it Hotch. Why wouldn’t he come to us? Why wouldn’t he say something to me?”

Hotch looked at Morgan sadly, noting the sense of betrayal in his features. “We can’t know what was going through his mind Derek. No matter how much we know a person, we still can only see what they let us see.”

He met Hotch’s eyes, confusion plain. “He told me everything. He—“ Morgan stopped, obviously fighting back emotion. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Hotch nodded, “I know, I’m not sure it ever does. But the police are looking into it, we’ll have their report soon and then we can figure out next steps from there.”

“We should be doing that,” Morgan’s voice gained more of its usual strength, spurred on by the thought of strangers pawing through Spencer’s things.

“No,” Hotch’s voice was firm, “we all need time to process this. None of us can be objective, no matter how much we wish we could.”

“He wouldn’t like it.” Morgan sounded helpless.

“I know, but it’s the right thing. He would want the truth, this is the best way to get it.”

Derek’s shoulders slumped, he was too drained to fight with Hotch really.

“Why don’t you go home? There’s no reason you have to be here, no reason any of us has to be here. It might help to get away from all this,” Hotch waved his hand vaguely towards the bullpen, still full of people who hadn’t just had the earth shift sickeningly beneath them.

Morgan didn’t respond right away and when he did look up, there were tears threatening to escape his eyes. “I know he didn’t do this.”

Hotch just nodded sympathetically. He didn’t think Spencer did this either but he didn’t know how to explain that just yet.

“Go home, Derek.” He said it gently but it wasn’t a suggestion.

Morgan rubbed an eye with the heel of his hand and exhaled loudly as he stood up. He nodded tightly to Hotch before leaving the office. Ten minutes later, Hotch watched him heading down the stairs and through the busy office, people discreetly stepping out of the path of such obvious heartache.

*

The following day was more of the same, the end of Reid’s life an immovable checkpoint in time. JJ stopped by his office on her way in, asked him how Jack was doing. She didn’t ask how Hotch was, she knew any answer she got to that would be a meaningless fabrication. Hotch looked a little guilty upon hearing the question.

“He doesn’t know.”

“What? Hotch, you have to tell him.”

“I know, I just, I don’t know what to tell him.” Hotch leaned back in his chair, looking at the pen he held. “He’s going to ask questions that I don’t have the answers to.” They all do. Somehow he has fooled them into thinking he was someone with answers, someone who fixed things. They would be terrified to find out wrong they were.

“He’s not a little kid anymore, he’ll be more hurt if you lie to him.”

“It’s not lying, and I believe I know what’s best for my son.” He was angry for a brief moment, all the stress of what happened had worn down his normally tight control. He immediately regretted the sharpness in his voice, could see how JJ had shrunk back a little. She was only trying to help. She was in the same pain as him, the loss echoing through their lives, tearing at tender scars that never healed fully. He sighed.

“I’m sorry, JJ. I shouldn’t have said that.”

She waved him off though the words still stung. “Have you talked to Morgan? I haven’t seen him yet.”

“No, he’s taking some time. I don’t expect he’ll be in for a few days at least.”

She hummed, pleased at least one of them was able to step away. “I’ll check on him later, see if he needs anything.”

“That would be great, thank you.” He hoped she knew the depth behind those two words but they never seemed to carry the weight they should. JJ was always doing things to take care of the team, picking up pieces no one else noticed had fallen.

*

Morgan was not answering his phone. The first missed call didn’t bother her. He was probably doing something, maybe he’d gone for a run. The second missed call felt a little unusual. They were all so attached to their phones, always waiting for the next case to come in. It was unlikely that he was without it. Maybe he had turned his ringer off, ensuring that he had the space he needed. The third time she called without answer she had reached a state of full blown worry. Morgan was reasonable, he was thoughtful, he wouldn’t just disappear on them. And yet, he and Reid had been so close, always flirting and bickering, Spencer’s usual rules about personal space melting whenever it was Derek crossing the line. He wasn’t thinking clearly just now. She tried but couldn’t ignore the small voice in the back of her mind. He wouldn’t. But she needed to see him, to confirm his wellbeing. She decided to stop by his place on her way home. She could bring him some dinner. She doubted he was up to cooking for himself.

After picking up his usual order from the burger place near work, JJ drove to Morgan’s house. She still hadn’t had any luck reaching him on the phone. Her heart was racing and it felt like the air had suddenly become heavy, requiring incredible strength to drag into her lungs. He didn’t answer the door either.

She slipped through the side yard, searching for another way in. She pounded on the door and called his name. It came out sounding like a sob. Leaning her forehead against the door, she told herself to calm down, to think logically. She almost laughed when the thought of kicking in the door crossed her mind—picturing Morgan swiftly getting them through all manner of locked entries. She knew she wouldn’t make a dent in this door. Morgan took too much care in the details of the homes he lived in. The door was solid. She’d need another way in.

She paced in the yard, wishing she had a key, wishing Derek would just answer his stupid phone and she could calm her anxiety and head home. She glared at the door, so stubbornly closed, keeping her out specifically. She wondered if he had a spare key and was about to call Penelope to ask when she spotted it. One of the windows was cracked open.

A key would be easier but she could work with a window. She was too impatient to put an end to her worry so she stepped through the bushes that lined the perimeter of the house. She was able to pop the screen of with a little effort, then slid the window all the way open before pulling herself up and through. She ended up on the kitchen counter and dropped down to the tiles. Her palms were covered in a layer of grime and she brushed them against each other to get it off. Breathing a little hard from the effort, adrenaline ran high and made her overly sensitive to the quiet permeating the house. She wanted to call out for him but something stopped her.

She crossed through the kitchen and froze when she reached the doorway to the living room. At first she couldn’t process what she was seeing, random details refusing to connect in any kind of discernible order. There was a smell, so familiar but so out of place here, a home she’d brought her children to and laughed over too many glasses of wine in. The bitter metallic scent clawed its way into her sinuses, making her eyes water. It was dark and the shape on the floor was so crumpled it could have been a pile of blankets. It could have been if it weren’t for the even darker pool surrounding it, dragging the light inwards, velvety in its lack of reflection. She covered her mouth with her hand, feeling the pressure against her lips. There was a scream lost somewhere inside her, winding its way up as the tumblers fell into place, unlocking the meaning of what she saw.

“Derek, no!” The words barely made a sound. She moved closer, willing this to be a mistake, a trick of the light, there had to be some other meaning to this scene. But there wasn’t. She got close enough to look right into his unseeing eyes, still fixed on the ceiling beams, the thing he stared at as his life spilled out and pooled around him. Automatically her fingers fumbled for his pulse, one final hope to contradict the reality of the too obvious bullet hole. She kept looking into his eyes, trying to avoid seeing the damage that had altered everything else about his face. Nothing. She backed up, stumbling against the table behind her. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do, couldn’t even fully understand what was happening. Derek Morgan, the strongest, bravest person she knew would never be in this position, laid out with a gun in his hand, no fight left in his body. The voice in her head tried to whisper its triumph; I told you so wrapping itself happily around her shock.

“No,” she said aloud. “No.” As if that tiny syllable could have any effect on the on the matter. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, hands shaking. She called the only person she could think to call, the only person who might be able to fix this.

“JJ?” Hotch was concerned when he picked up to silence. It was unnerving, too similar to Spencer’s mute call days before.

All she could do was breathe and hope the words would come to her soon.

“JJ, what’s wrong?” Silence. “Say something Jennifer!” The rise in his voice made a shiver run through her, just enough movement to get her vocal cords working.

“He’s dead,” she whispered, voice hoarse.

Hotch didn’t say anything immediately. He couldn’t, the memory of Morgan’s blood on his hands, on his face overwhelmed him. He was filled with horror by the knowledge that he had done this.

She repeated herself, louder this time.

“I’m on my way. Call 911.”

He was already halfway out the door, not realizing he hadn’t asked if she was safe before hanging up.

~Park 3~

#Criminal Minds #tw major character death #tw suicude #tw guns #tw blood #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #spencer reid

[hotchley]

those three stupid words

Once again, I have no idea what this is, but I was thinking about Hotch and Jack having different love languages, and also how Haley told Hotch that he needs to hear the words so now here we are! it’s just something i wrote after finishing my chemistry notes x

Minor spoilers for season 12/13. I’m on season 10 but I know what happens so it’s mentioned briefly

tw: implied domestic abuse, hospitals,  minor character deaths, mentions of periods, panic attacks, prescribed drugs, thoughts of death

read on ao3!

Hotch is terrible at saying the words I love you because it’s almost like a curse. He remembers how they would joke about The Reid Effect meaning children and animals didn’t like their youngest agent, but The Hotchner Effect is tragedy the moment he got close enough to say those three words.

He told his mother he loved her and she never felt mercy until the day she died, even though her husband had been in the ground for years by that point.

He told Kate Joyner that he loved her- not in the way he loved Haley- but in the way one does when they feel like they have a guardian keeping them safe and she bled out in a hospital, afraid and alone.

He told Haley Brooks he would love her forever, because at the time forever seemed like nothing and now he visits her grave with a bouquet of flowers and the son he is terrified of hurting.

He told Emily Prentiss he loved her, in whatever way she would let him, because he thought it would be enough to make her stay, but it wasn’t because she went back to London and it was selfish of him to ask her to come back. She only came back when he had to leave.

He won’t say the words, but he will remember how every single member of his team- including Ashley Seaver and Jordan Todd- took their coffee and he will remember whose period is due when and what snacks they want. He remembers what audiobook to listen to with who and he remembers where to stand to make them comfortable. He could make their lunches and patch up old wounds with his eyes closed, but he can never say the words, and most of the time it’s enough. The team understand because they have to. 

But Jack Hotchner, for better or for worse, is not his father. Nor is he his mother. He is some weird combination of the two, for he has his father’s fury and anger at the world, but also his kind and gentle tendencies towards those that need it most. But he has his mother’s ability to spit harsh words that he doesn’t really mean and her desire to seek goodness in everyone has passed onto him. He has his mothers soft, blonde hair but his fathers’ brown eyes. Only his hair has not been darkened by the threat of a serial killer and his eyes do not hold the same sadness or guilt when he looks at old photos.

There are days where Jack will come down the stairs and find that his father has already made his breakfast. It’s usually on the days that he’s running late. He will come home from a trip with his friends’ to find the light in the hallway still on, because his father understands how suffocating he finds the dark. There will be macaroni and cheese from the box on the days he slams the apartment door and throws his bag onto his bed.

Jack knows his father loves him. He knows how hard it is for his dad to let him go out and do normal teenager things and he knows how painful it is to watch him grow up without Haley there. But because Hotch still thinks that Jack knows none of this, he never breathes a word. He knows that his father is one of the best men to exist, maybe in spite of, or maybe because of, everything he has been through.

But there are days where he tells his dad he loves him and does not get a response. Where he will shout the words as he runs out the door to get a lift from his friend- it’s what the cool kids do- and be met with silence. Where he’ll say them just before heading to his bedroom and get a smile.

He knows that his dad struggles to say the words and that they don’t mean everything, but it still hurts to not hear them. And he knows he’s being stupid, but he’s just a human. When something hurts, rational thought does not come into it. It just hurts.

He is sat on his bed, stupidly wondering whether he is the problem. He’s never heard his father say those three stupid words to anyone, not even Beth or Emily or Dave, but maybe once he did.

Hotch comes back from the grocery store and does not hear Jack come running down the stairs to see what sweet treat that he shouldn’t have got but still did because it’s a one time thing. 

He knows that George Foyet is dead. And so is Peter Lewis. They can’t hurt Jack. But being a profiler for so long taught him that no matter how many monsters you defeat or send to jail or kill, there are always more waiting to take their place. 

So he drops the bags on the kitchen counter, reaches for a gun that isn't there anymore and just hopes that the one good thing in his life hasn't been taken.

The door to Jack's room is open. Hotch nudges it slightly, letting out a sigh of relief when he sees his son sitting on his bed. The sigh of relief quickly becomes a noise of concern when he realises Jack is crying. Silently. The tears course down his cheek as though he's not even aware of their existence.

That's another thing about Jack Hotchner. He cries the same way his father does.

"Hey, hey, buddy, what's going on? What happened? Come on, talk to me, and we'll make everything right. Together. You know we can. We always do," he said, kneeling by his side.

Jack shakes his head. Aaron slowly counts to ten. 

"Buddy come on. Talk to me."

"Sometimes I wonder whether or not you love me," Jack blurts out.

Hotch recoils like he'd been hit, and in some ways, he has. In some ways, that single sentence does more to destroy him than every blow his father had ever rained upon him, every parent that had spat in his face about not knowing what it was like to lose a child, just because he could not wear his wedding ring for a moment longer could ever attempt. It hurts him more than Foyet's knife plunging in had.

"Buddy of course I do. You never need to worry about that. Did something happen to make you doubt that? Because I know sometimes I get angry, but I swear nothing will ever change."

Jack looks up, and Hotch feels like he's looking in a mirror. How many times had he looked at his own father with that same scared and desperate look? 

But Jack isn't scared. No, Jack had never been scared of his father, only for. Jack is tired and desperate and Hotch doesn't know what he is meant to do.

"Then how come you can never say the words? It's just three stupid words, yet somehow you never manage to actually say them. You dance around them and you say a hundred thousand other things but you never actually say it!"

Hotch is still on his knees. They're beginning to ache. He knows what he needs to say, but he just can't do it. He opens his mouth to say what his son needs to hear because there are no monsters hiding in the closet, waiting to strike. He opens his mouth because his son needs to know that he is the best thing Aaron has ever known. He opens his mouth and nothing comes out. It is like there is a barrier that prevents him from getting a single syllable, let alone three fully formed words out. 

It is like a lump in his throat that he should be strong enough to get past is getting bigger and bigger, stopping him from giving his son the one thing he needs.

"Jack," he whispers, but it is not enough and it never will be enough.

Jack let out a sob, running past his father and is out the door by the time Hotch reaches it.

He tries to breathe. He tries so, so hard to breathe because he needs to find Jack before a monster in the form of a charming smile or desperate person finds him and takes him away- not just for a few months- but forever. He tries to breathe, but just like the three stupid words he can never say, he can't. 

Instead he sobs, wondering why he is so broken. Why the universe had decided that Haley would be the one taken from Jack and not him. Why every single part of his body feels paralysed, stopping him from even reaching for his phone and dialling Jessica.

It passes a few minutes later, after he is able to ground himself and regulate his breathing, but it feels like hours. He's so exhausted that he just wants to curl up on the carpet and close his eyes, but he can't. He needs to find his son. 

Jack had left his phone in his jacket pocket, which means Aaron is able to track him. He contemplates going after him, but then he sees that he is going to the graveyard. They've been there so many times that they could both go with their eyes closed.

He paces around the apartment instead. It suffocates him only moments later, and he finds himself grabbing his car keys. He does not go to the graveyard. When he told Jessica in simple sentences what had happened, she told him to let Jack go. To only go after him if his location indicated danger.

He finds himself at the beach he'd dragged Jack to when he wouldn't stop moping about his first break-up. In fairness, the boy had been thirteen and it had seemed like the end of the world at the time, but because Hotch had never been that keen on the girl, he was secretly glad. 

Jack goes there shortly after Hotch leaves. Hotch drives back to the apartment, still feeling sick. When he gets in, it takes everything he has to head to the kitchen, and not his bedroom. 

He has no idea how long Jack has been sitting on that one for, but he's been gone for an hour. He'll be hungry when he gets back. Making dinner is something Hotch enjoys, but that day, it felt like another papercut on his heart.

Jack's pillbox was on the counter. Hotch doesn't want to invade his privacy, but he needs to know. He picks it up. The pills he was supposed to take that morning were still there. Yet another reason for him to resent himself. If he hadn't dashed out early to make a meeting he could have rescheduled, then him and Jack could have taken their pills together, and he wouldn't be sitting there wondering if Jack was going to suddenly end up in the E.R because his heart condition played up.

The sun had set, but Jack hadn't come home. Hotch was back to pacing the apartment. Jack's location showed that he was still at the beach. He hoped it wasn't just that his phone had fallen out of his jacket pocket when someone came from behind him. Jessica had promised to call the moment she heard anything.

There had been nothing, apart from a message reminding him to eat. He doesn't have the heart to tell her that if he does, it will all end up being flushed down the toilet.

Although he's pacing Jack's room, he left the hallway light on. He knows how suffocating Jack finds the dark, and in all the years they've been living in the apartment, neither of them has ever come home to darkness. He isn't about to start letting that happen now.

Jack's key turns in the lock when it's close to nine. Hotch does not move from his position because he's too much of a coward to have that confrontation now, and he wants to give Jack the chance to decide where he's going to go. Hotch hopes he goes to the kitchen. There's a bowl of mac and cheese- straight from the box, with extra cheese grated on- still warm for him to eat.

But Jack heads straight up the stairs and walks into his room, almost like he knows his dad will be there, waiting for his baby to come home safe.

Jack walks in, his eyes red and still watering, and finds his dad sat on the floor. In his arms is a bear. The only bear that Jack still has on his bed, because the rest of his toys are in the closet. But the one on his bed is special. It's from Build-A-Bear. Aaron and Jack made the trip for Jack's birthday. The first one they'd spent together without Haley. 

He still buys the thing accessories, even now.

Aaron looks up and drops the bear.Jack looks down. 

"I'm sorry," he says, because now that he's had time to think, he's not angry with his dad. He just feels guilty. So guilty for shouting at him because he knows his dad loves him and that he just has a slightly different way of showing it, and there's nothing wrong with that.

Aaron puts the bear down and walks over to his son. 

For one stupid moment, Jack thinks he's going to walk right past him, out the door, and never come back. Other people call his imagination a blessing and something beautiful. He calls it his fatal flaw.

Obviously, his dad does not walk out of the apartment. He doesn't even walk out of the bedroom. 

What he does do is this: he walks up to his son, looks into his eyes, and for the first time, Jack realises just how similar they are- the exact same shade of brown- and sees tears that haven't fallen yet. Aaron pulls his son in for a hug, and before Jack even knows what he's doing, he's falling apart in his dad's arms, sobs torn from him, breath coming in uneven pants. 

Aaron doesn't let go. He just holds his son close, hoping that he hasn't destroyed yet another person with his touch.

Eventually, Jack's sobs calm and he's able to breathe easily. Still, his father does not let go. He waits for his son to move out of his arms and sit down, before he joins him on the floor.

"Jack. I-" he starts, but his son cuts him off with a shake of his head.

"Don't. Please. Not now. I know you do, and I know I need to hear the words, but I can't hear them right now or else I will always associate them with this moment and I just- I can't."

Hotch can feel his son starting to panic, so he just nods. "There's mac and cheese in the kitchen if you're up for it. And if you're not, just eat and drink something before you go to sleep. I don't want you waking up in the middle of the night because you're hungry."

He stands, fully intending to leave his son be for the rest of the night.

"Dad?" Jack whispers.Hotch crouches down again. 

"Yeah buddy."

"Can I- can I just stay in your room tonight?"

No parenting manual or article teaches you what to do when your fifteen-year-old son asks if he can sleep in your room after he storms out because you're too afraid of what happened to everyone in your life to say those three words he needs more than anything.

But parenting manuals are nothing compared to the instincts of anyone that loves a child. And sometimes, you need to trust that you're doing the right thing. And in that moment, Aaron does.

"Sure kid," he says. And he doesn't feel like he's done the wrong thing.

Aaron watches his son sleep that night. Jack pretends he doesn't notice what his dad is doing, and in turn, Aaron pretends he doesn't know what Jack is doing.

The next day, he makes them both breakfast. Jack said he wanted to go to school when he woke up, and Hotch trusts his judgement, but made him promise to come home if at any point he felt unwell. He can cancel his classes for his son.

Just before Jack leaves, Hotch calls out for him. 

His son turns around, looking so much like his mother with those innocent eyes and slight smile, like he knows exactly what his father is about to say. For a moment, it's like Haley is really there with them and Hotch's breath catches slightly. He swallows the lump in throat and fights the barrier. 

"I love you," he says. It comes out too quickly, slightly choked and all the words blend into one, but he does it. He says it.

It makes Jack smile, slightly tearful himself. "I know. I love you too dad."

When the door closes behind him, Aaron leans against the counter for a moment, grounding himself. Everything will be fine, he tells himself. Jack will be fine.

And he is. He comes home in one piece, a wide smile on his face when he reveals the two cupcakes he got from the local bakery on the way home.

 Aaron smiles at him because that is his son, who he loves with all his heart. 

And no matter how much he struggles to say those three little words, he will always try for him.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch #jack hotchner #hurt aaron hotchner #sad aaron hotchner #tw domestic abuse #tw hospitals #tw minor character death #tw periods #tw substances #tw mentions of death

[agent-jones]

Jacklynn rambles about the Office of Never Was and Ianto’s characterisation

Hi! Okay so, a post made not long ago reminded me that I wanted to talk about the audio The Office of Never Was and the implications of Ianto’s actions within this story. So, this is going to be very spoilery, considering I will be specially talking about the ending of it mostly, please don’t read if you don’t want to be spoiled on this audio [ also there will be some spoilers for the TW1 box set Before the Fall ]

Right. I know this audio gets a mixed reaction, honestly I haven’t met a lot of people who really like it. And to be fair! I didn’t like it at first either. I thought it fucked with canon too much and the timelines didn’t make sense and Ianto’s characterisation at the end just makes you go ‘wait is he really doing this? This doesn’t feel like Ianto Jones to me.’ But, the more I analysed it for character study, the more it makes sense for him.

First, let’s talk timeline.

It is really hard to place this one, because no concrete evidence is given one way or another. We know that Ianto says ‘everyone had gone home, even you’ when making the recording for Jack, which implies it’s more than the three of them so that places it during s1 or s2. But, for me it’s three things that has me placing it during series one: 1. The way he talks about Lisa. His go to is still ‘she’s my girlfriend who was murdered’ and while yes, she will always be his girlfriend who was murdered, by series two, he and jack were in an actual relationship of some sort and he is much more one with the team, so I don’t think his first instinct would be Lisa anymore. When Claire asked him about having a girlfriend, series two Ianto probably would have mentioned Jack. 2. The fact that Torchwood decided to retcon all of the dead employees away from their loved ones is not in character for Torchwood Three and feels more like something Torchwood One would do. 3. I’m pretty sure someone asked James Goss on Twitter once and he said it was set in series one.

This would mean that the reason Ianto is being tormented here is something that he did while he was at Torchwood One, considering the man mentioned it had been about a year since it happened. But, Jacklynn, you say, Torchwood One is in London and this company was in Cardiff. Yes, however we have seen Yvonne travel to Cardiff before [ One Rule ] in order to simply take care of something, herself, and I would not put it past her to do it again. And why not send Ianto? He’s the perfect cover, Welsh. We never find out if Jack knew anything about what happened, and I feel like if Torchwood One caused that much of a problem, he would absolutely wipe his hands of it and tell Yvonne that it’s officially her problem [ and probably warn her to stay out of Cardiff ] and therefore never dealt with Ianto.

One thing about Ianto in Torchwood One, is that he follows Yvonne whether he believes her actions are completely right or not. This could be because of the trigger she put in his head to trust her anytime her name is said, or it could be his unfailing loyalty and people pleasing to a fault. Whatever it is, we learn in the Torchwood One box sets that he will definitely voice his displeasure, but in the end he will always follow Yvonne’s orders. So no, he didn’t make the decision to retcon everyone, but he did go through with helping do it and yeah, that sucks. But, it’s in character for him, and what was he going to do? Quit Torchwood and have the last three years of his life retconned away from him and go back to the life he had before that he wasn’t sure he wanted to survive? No. Does that excuse him? Of course not. But, Torchwood One was all about following orders. For Queen and Country, for a aense of duty.

Retconning himself to clear his conscious the first time, after retconning the dead employees’ families also seems out of character when you take into account that he refused to let Rachel retcon him after the mission where Pippa died. But, that’s because he didn’t trust Rachel. If Yvonne told him to retcon himself? I absolutely believe he would because he trusted her to have his best interest at heart; so often Yvonne showed that she truly cared for the people who worked at Torchwood [ even though she used people for hers and Torchwood’s gain ] and Ianto believed her. So yes, once again it’s him following orders and in a way justifying it to himself because why should anyone remember that kind of carnage and tragedy if they don’t have to?

Now, what he does at the end, retconning himself to leave the man for dead in the building, it’s dark. It’s brutal. It’s murder. Yeah. But, Ianto is not above this. I know that Ianto is made out, most of the time, to be this beacon of goodness. He’s empathetic and in the TW1 audios is considered Yvonne’s conscience. He wants to save the world. But, he’s also ruthless. He canonically killed about 12 people in cold blood because they were putting Jack’s and Gwen’s lives in danger [ Torchwood Consequences: Virus ]. He walked up to a man and put a taser between his eyes and said ‘pray they survive,’ because has anyone on the team died, Ianto was promising to come back and kill him [ Meat ]. He promised Mandy, a woman who saved him from hurting himself, he would kill her on sight if she ever returned to Cardiff because of what she did [ Broken ].

Ianto Jones will do what it takes to protect the innocent and he is not above exacting revenge.

Had Claire [ I know we don’t think that’s her real name but she liked it so I’m keeping it ] survived, had the man [ and I truly don’t remember his name whoops OH IT’S OLIVER ISNT IT? Not going back and changing it now, too late ] not simply labelled her as ‘collateral damage’ and shrugged the death he caused off, he probably would have survived. But, Ianto cared for that girl, he wanted to help her even though he knew she had something to do with his torment that night. It wasn’t her fault and he knew that and then Oliver killed her.

Ianto spent all night being psychologically tortured by this guy and then watched him shrug off an innocent girl’s death, then Oliver decided it was time for Ianto to die. I don’t care what he says, had Ianto not gotten the upper hand, Oliver absolutely would have left him for dead. He was lying to try to get Ianto to show mercy.

But, he was wrong about Ianto Jones. He underestimated him and that cost him his life.

Now, once again I have to say that I do not condone Ianto’s actions [ as I’ve said in my defence of Gwen post ] but, I understand why he did it. I absolutely do think it’s in character because Ianto absolutely has a certain darkness inside of him that allows him to kill when he deems necessary, we’ve seen it several times.

Do I believe that this means people shouldn’t like his character as much? Absolutely not. Isn’t the point of Torchwood that all of them are unlikable in some ways because they’re human and make mistakes? Yeah, killing is VERY BAD and shouldn’t be excused. But, it’s okay to still like a fictional character even though they’ve done things like this. There’s a difference between enjoying a character for who they are, even the bad, and condoning what they do.

But yes, this has been my ted talk on The Office of Never Was and why I believe it is in character and yes, I very much love this audio because I love seeing the glimpses of his ruthlessness.

#ianto jones #torchwood #; sorry this is so long #; but I hope people find it interesting!! #; I’ve spent too much time analysing this audio and his choices

[bottlesandcats]

Pardon My 15x20 Rant

I woke up this morning with Thoughts, so time for a ranty post. Be prepared this is going to read more like word vomit than anything, but I just wanted to get my thoughts down on paper. No one may even read this bc I don’t have a lot of followers but it feels good to just get this off my chest and out into the Universe. Warning, there is a gratuitous use of caps.

So....I see so many fans on Twitter saying how beautiful and perfect that ending was and, I have to say, I’m truly bewildered by that.

 Even if you aren’t a Destiel fan, I’m not sure how you could’ve found that ending to be remotely satisfying. See list of non Destiel-related reasons below (bc I’m trying to see this from the perspective of someone who isn’t in that part of the fandom):

1. The MOW was crap; wtf was with the Halloween masks? When have we ever seen that with vamps? The dumbest shit I’ve seen. 

They trotted out some extra from season 1 like it’s supposed to be some fun little Easter egg. Why are we supposed to give a shit about her? I didn’t even remember her with the flashback. Who are you, again? NM, I DON’T CARE. It also honestly made no sense to feature a MOW episode after everything that just happened, it wasn’t necessary. It was clearly just a means to an end to get Dean killed.

2. They shoved some random family, for Sam, into the last ten minutes of the episode. Sam’s kid is named Dean? OF COURSE HE IS. And that whole father-son montage was so clunky and awkward, I would’ve been more convinced if you told me Sam actually just wandered into some anonymous woman’s backyard and started playing ball with her kid. 

We’ve seen how emotionally invested Sam gets in his relationships and we’ve had such beautiful moments: Sam/Jess, Sam/Madison, (even Sam/Ruby), and of course Sam/Eileen. And now we are supposed to care about Anonymous Brunette Woman #4? GTFO. I’ve seen some people saying they couldn’t get Shoshanna bc of COVID, but give us something to indicate it was Eileen. Have Sam sign something to her from across the yard; IT’S THAT SIMPLE. But no, not one single mention of her in either 19 or 20, after Sam nearly broke when he lost her in 18.

 I couldn’t even feel happy for him bc I had 0 emotional investment in this life of his. And it was all just rushed through so we could get to the “good part” where Sam dies and is reunited with Dean in Heaven. 

Also small note, what happened to Dean’s dog???

3. The wardrobe department really needs to reconsider some of their life choices. I’ve seen tufts of cat hair in the corners of my house that would’ve made a better wig than that rag they threw on Jared’s head. It was so ridiculous, I started thinking this was going to wind up being some big gag like The Mystery Spot” and The Trickster was going to pop out. 

And why did Jim Beaver’s beard look like they spray-painted cotton balls brown and glued them to his face? It was honestly distracting. 

4. After 15 years, and FINALLY achieving freedom and happiness, Dean gets taken down by a rebar and a Vamp-mime. The only way I could justify this to myself was that, now that they are no longer God’s puppets he’s not bending the rules for them and they don’t have that death-defying luck on their side now. But even that is weak. After all his fighting, sacrificing, and wanting nothing more than to chill on a beach with Sam and Cas, this is what he gets. This was a show about defying destiny, THAT WAS THE WHOLE PLOT OF S15.

 Dean always said he figured it was his destiny to die bloody, and that’s exactly why he shouldn’t have gone out this way. STORY ARC, WHAT’S THAT? Cas told Dean, when he first met him, that good things do happen. So basically, the only way Dean could get his happiness was to die? What a heart-warming message. 

5. Dean’s lack of emotion over the loss of Cas was the most OOC I think I’ve ever seen from him. Dean DOES NOT accept the deaths of those he loves in any way. He does not cope, he does not move on, he does not happily eat a bunch of pie. We’ve seen how Dean has handled Cas’s death in the past. It’s...not good, and it only became more unhealthy as the show progressed, with the last time (before 18) having Dean literally killing himself. Even in 15x19, we still got that desperate heartache from him with Dean demanding that Chuck bring Cas back. We also saw him sleeping amongst a pile of empty liquor bottles, which is very on-character for him. But in 15x20, he’s the one telling Sam they need to move on and keep living (oops) over a giant tray of pie slices at a county fair. Even Sam feels off. One minute he’s all “I’m sad about Cas and Jack” and the next he’s putting a pie in Dean’s face and is like “I feel better now!” You’ve got a direct in with God!Jack now, and we know from 15x19 that God can pull beings out of The Empty bc he did it with Lucifer! THAT WAS YOUR IN, YOU IDIOTS. You ask Chuck to bring back Cas, but not the one to whom he was a father to????????? 

6. Even if you weren’t a Destiel shipper, you should still be disappointed in the noticeable absence of Castiel, especially since he was left with such a cliffhanger of character development and was mentioned multiple times in episodes 19 and 20. He was a pivotal part of the show for 11 years. Even if you take out the Destiel stuff, the boys have called him their brother numerous times. Dean’s call him his best friend. Wouldn’t his ideal Heaven have his best friend in it?

7. I’m not going to rail on the scene between the brothers while Dean is dying. I didn’t really get Wincest vibes from it, though I never put much stock into that side of the fandom anyway. My one issue is this was the “love confession” moment they gave us. Dean dying in a barn and telling Sam he loves his baby brother. *SNORE*

8. The big reunion moment we were hoping for? They wasted it on Dean’s car. A FUCKING CAR. Yes, I get the Impala is important to the story, but come the fuck on. NO CHICK FLICK MOMENTS. MUCH BRO. 

All-in-all the whole ending felt like 1 step forward, and 15 years back. After all the character development and story arcs, it’s like they just threw it all out the window. Nothing changed. Everyone was back to where they started: Cas working for God, Dean being a good soldier and dying bloody doing the only thing he knows how to do, Sam being left to pick up the pieces with some distorted version of an apple pie life where he was basically just living to die so he could be with Dean again. I felt like the lesson was that the only way you get what you want is to die. It was gross. It was a disservice to the actors, the characters, and the fans. I can’t begin to even see this as fan-service bc I’d love to know who the TPTB thought they were serving with this garbage. And honestly, I don’t think they knew either. I feel like they were so worried about pissing off all the different subsets of the fandom that they went as safe as they could. *slow claps* Way to go, guys, really groundbreaking stuff.

At the end of the day though, it’s my fault for being disappointed. I shouldn’t have expected so much of a show that had mostly cis white men working behind the scenes. A show that’s killed almost every female character who stepped up to the plate (also, POC anyone? Nahhh). A show that took their one real LGBTQ character (also female), killed her and left her body in a bathtub (FRIDGING IS FUN) for absolutely no good reason. A show that, at the end of the day, is just a show about a couple bros who kill monsters, on the CW, and the CW is hardly the go-to place for real boundary-pushing content. A show that has managed to drop the ball at almost every opportunity though we, as a fandom, have continued to lower the bar for them.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me 100 times? 

So with all that being said...

Peace out bitches.

#spn finale reaction #meta i guess? #spn spoilers #15x20 #word vomit #supernatural #long post #dean wincherster #sam winchester #castiel

[ai-katsuu]

Gwen meets the White Palace

this is on ao3 but i wanted to share this here cause this is probably one of the most relaxing, pleasing chapters I’ve written. There’s also a fourth wall break concerning the movie by one of the characters towards the end so stay tuned for that haha.

--------

Arthur took Gwen through the main gates of the White Palace. The journey back to the palace took awhile as it was a little past noon, therefore Arthur assumed everyone would be in their own rooms as lunch had just ended. He led her through the halls of the palace, it was quiet for sure, the sun shone through the glass windows, warming her face as she took it all in. Gwen admired the tall windows, large curtains, and decorated hallways of the palace. She thought how lovely it would be to live here. 

Arthur had stopped at one of the large golden, white, double doors. He lifted the handle and poked his head inside before pulling it back in. 

“Alright, there’s no one here,” he opened the door for her as he gestured for her to enter. Gwen was in awe at how big this room was, there were beautiful couches with pillows, extravagant tables, and lovely flowers all over the room. “This is the parlor, the others hang out here when they have free time. Either here or the triplets workshop,” he added.

“It’s beautiful…” Gwen walked around the room admiring the furniture. Arthur took note of this and smiled at her curiosity. He approached her and took her hand, leading her to one of the big chairs in the room. 

He knelt down in front of her on one knee with his head dipped, “I have to ask for your patience, Milady. I must find my friend, Merlin, so that he could assist us. Would you mind waiting here for just a little longer?” 

Gwen giggled at how serious he was being, to which Arthur smiled, successful with his little antics for her. “Of course not. And please, just call me Gwen.” 

“As you wish, Gwen.” He stood up, “I’ll be back in just a moment.” and with that he left the parlor. 

Gwen tried to stay put in the comfortable chair. She fiddled with her fingers, her hair, and the hem of her dress. She really did try to stay still but curiosity got the best for her and she explored the room. Hopping out of her seat she ran to the extravagant tea seat that was on the far end of the room. She admired the vases and the flowers they held in them, all decorated and made with the finest material. 

“Whoever’s in charge here sure must know a lot about design.” she said to herself.

What attracted Gwen the most was the large bookshelf just beside the long table. She had never seen so many books in one grouping before. One of them which caught her eye. It had golden embroidery on the spine, and looked out of place. Gwen walked over and tiptoed to reach it, she wasn’t very tall for her age after all. 

“I should...probably fix that…”

Click

Once she had reached the book she had accidentally pulled it down and heard a sharp sound. 

“Huh..AHH!”

The floor where she had been standing had opened and she had fallen down, her screams echoing as the door closed itself back up. As she slid down screaming, she saw she was in a thin slide made out of stone. She wanted to feel sick as she got slight motion sickness. Up ahead was a small ray of light and Gwen screamed as she got closer to the light.

As soon as she had exited the slide, she fell down and tumbled onto a mattress. “Urghh…” she felt dizzy as she held her head, trying to straighten her vision again. She doubted it worked as when she looked up she saw three of the same faces staring at her. 

 “Ah!! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude!” she said looking back and forth at the three male faces, wondering if the motion sickness was still in her. 

“Who’s this?” one of them asked. 

“How did she find the slide?” the other looked at her curiously. 

“Umm...I’m really sorry to enter your…” Gwen looked around and saw several tools that were hung on the walls. Weird contraptions she had never seen were scattered on tables, papers were on the floor, and packs of something called Dog Food were all stacked in one corner. “Your...room? But I’m looking for the parlor, could you tell me where it is?” she asked. 

One of the boys looked as if he made a realization and nodded, “I’m Pino,” 

“Noki.”

“Kio.”

Each of them raised their hand when they said their names. Pino continued, “You’re gonna want to go up these stairs here, go up another level, and enter the room to your right.”  he pointed. Gwen nodded and stood up, dusting herself off. 

“Thank you so much,” she curtsied, “My name is Gwen by the way,” she said. 

“Pleasure, miss.” Kio nodded his head once smiling.

“Good day!” and she ran up the stairs. Once they had heard their door close, Noki turned to his brother, 

“Why’d you give her the wrong directions?” but Pino merely laughed as he got back to his desk.

Gwen, a little embarrassed and determined not to make another mistake, scurried up the stairs with her hands to her chest. After she had gone to the second level, she had followed Pino’s instructions and took a right. 

“Okay..this should be it.”

However when she opened the door, she saw two people standing in the middle of a bedroom, much much smaller than the parlor. They had seemed to be talking until Gwen entered and they fixed their gazes on her. The man and woman looked stunningly similar, both handsome and beautiful. 

Gwen didn’t realize she was staring in awe until the woman smiled, “May we help you?” 

She snapped out of her thoughts and responded, “I’m so sorry, I was trying to look for the parlor but Pino told me I had to go up a level and then the right-”

“You met Pino?” the women asked, a little surprised. 

Gwen nodded, “Yeah, Noki and Kio too.” 

“Oh,” the man smiled and rolled his eyes, “That makes sense. A lot of sense,” 

The woman sighed and nodded, she gave Gwen a smile that made her feel comforted, almost like an older sister, “Go across the hall and take the bridge to the second wing from there. You should be able to find your way easily. I’m Gretel by the way.” 

“Hans.” the man beside her said, “If you bump into Briar tell her I’m waiting for those cookies!”

Gwen nodded, “Oh, alright. Thank you kindly.” she curtsied once more and left the room. 

“Shouldn’t you be baking those yourself?” Gretel turned to her brother, to which he smiled and shrugged, 

“She’s taking lessons.” 

Gwen followed Gretel’s instructions, trusting her a little more than Pino and made her way across the bridge. She was almost there until she heard voices coming from upstairs. Although she desperately wanted to get back to the parlor, her curiosity took over once more as she climbed the carpeted stairs. They led to a small door with a square glass pane window. Gwen tried to open it but it wouldn’t budge. 

She tried budging it open with her body, repeatedly hitting it until it burst open and immediately the bright sunshine and vast winds hit her face. It was almost refreshing as she looked up and saw the blue sky. Judging by her surroundings, she concluded that this was the rooftop of the palace. 

The wind was blowing on her backside so she had to keep her hair and hood in place. A couple of meters away was a large tower that had steps attached, going all the way up in a spiral. At the foot of the tower were two large umbrellas, underneath them were two beach benches where two individuals laid. 

Gwen slowly approached them, the wind pushing her towards their direction until she got close enough. The woman closest to her removed her shades as she saw a shadow approaching and looked behind her, 

“Oh! Jack, look we have guest!” she smiled. Gwen looked over to the woman's left, and the man with blond hair stood still lying down in the shade, as he had what appeared to be a similar face mask to the woman’s, as well as cucumber slices on his face. He merely hummed in acknowledgement as he refused to move his face. 

From a distance, Gwen heard a voice and looked up. It had seemed to be coming from the tower. When she squinted she saw two individuals standing on a ledge at the top of the tower. 

“You’ll be fine, you’re Peter Pan. Ain’t faith, trust, and pixie dust your thing?” a woman's voice said. She seemed to be tying a string of rope around the man’s ankles. The man, who she assumed to be Peter Pan rolled his eyes as he responded, 

“There are two of those things I don’t have when it comes to you, and neither of them are Pixie dust. Audrey, are you sure this is safe? What did you say this was called again?” 

Audrey stood up and walked behind him, “Bungee jumping, safe travels!” she said pushing him off the ledge. Peter screamed as he was thrown off the ledge, only to be stopped by the piece of rope that Audrey had tied, 

“That..doesn’t look like it’s about to hold…” Gwen said worried. 

And indeed it didn’t. The rope had snapped and Peter fell off the roof. Gwen had closed her eyes in fear but the woman had comforted her by patting her arm. “He’s fine don’t worry.” she smiled and gestured to the ledge of the roof where Peter flew up, holding the rope in annoyance. 

“Quel que...if he dies one of these days I would not be surprised..” Jack mumbled. Gwen noticed an oddly shiny ring on his finger that was almost blinding. 

“If you’re looking to go back down to rest, the parlor is just downstairs at the end of the hall.”  the woman said. Gwen nodded, “Thank you, miss….?”

“Snow White,”

Gwen curtsied for the third time and ran off to the door again. As she made her way down the stairs something heavenly reached her nose. It made her search for the smell as she wandered around the halls. Just as she was about to give up, a woman turned the corner holding a delicious warm batch of cookies. 

As she passed by Gwen, she smiled and greeted her. “Why, hello there. I’m on my way to deliver these cookies to my partner, would you like one?” she offered. Gwen, having not eaten anything since last night, nodded her head as she lowered the tray. The moment Gwen took a bite she felt as if she could melt right then and there

The woman noticed her expression and grinned, “Do you like it?” Gwen nodded furiously and swallowed it. 

“They’re delicious! You must be Briar, am I right? Hans said you would be giving him cookies.” 

The woman’s smile quickly disappeared into one of a frown and concern. “What? No, I’m Aurora. Who’s Briar? Is Hans cheating on me?” she inched closer to her.

Gwen widened her eyes and dread settled in her stomach. Had she said something she wasn’t supposed to? “Oh, um...I don’t know. I’m so sorry I didn’t-” 

The woman quickly smiled and waved her free hand, “No, no, I am Briar. Briar Rose, sorry I thought that would be funny.” Gwen’s mouth turned into an ‘o’ shape. 

Another laugh was heard from the corner of the halls as another woman with blonde scruffy hair came out, “I told you it would be funny!” 

The woman holding the cookies had her frown remain. “I still don’t get how it’s funny. You’re strange, Goldie.” 

Goldie and Briar had seemed to forget about Gwen as they carried on with their walk. Gwen was left standing there with half a cookie, deciding to finish it before walking. A few moments later rapid footsteps were heard, and Arthur slid out of the same corner, looking exhausted and tired.

“Gwen!” he said overwhelmed, “Where have you been?! I’ve been looking all over for you!” he walked towards her. Gwen swallowed the remainder of the cookie and responded,

“Well I did wait in the parlor for awhile but I pulled a book and then I fell down a slide then I met your friends and then-”

Arthur’s eyes widened at her statement, “Wait, wait, wait- you met my friends?!” he said frightened and he moved his hands in weird gestures. Gwen could only stare at him, and digest her cookie as she thought,

“Um…” 

“Alright,” Arthur took a deep breath and put his hands together, “Who have you met, and what do you know?” Gwen took a deep breath. 

“Okay, well. Pino, Noki, and Kio are all brothers. Pino is the partner Gretel who happens to be the twin sister of Hans, who is the partner of Briar. Snow White, who I assume to be the princess of the White Palace, is married to Merlin…” she paused, “What does Merlin look like?”

Arthur looked up as if in thought, “Sam Clafin. Not sure who that is but Audrey says so a lot.” 

Gwen nodded, “Alright. Then Audrey is married to Jack, I assume he’s married because of their matching rings. That leaves Goldie and Peter with either Noki or Kio...Goldie with Kio and Peter with Noki?” she asked. 

“Close, Goldie with Noki and Kio with Peter. And none of them did anything to you?” Gwen shook her head, “Well done.” he finally said with a satisfied smile. “Now let’s go get Merlin and sort this all out.” 

#red shoes and the 7 dwarfs #red shoes and the seven dwarfs #red shoes movie #red shoes #rsat7d #red shoes ever after #rsatsd #red shoes arthur #red shoes merlin

[i-really-should-be-writing]

Title: Surrender my everything (AO3)

Written for @torchwoodfanfests

Prompts: 'immortality' and 'based on a song of your choice'. Song of choice is ‘Youngblood’ by 5sos.

Summary: Jack writes a letter that will never be delivered to its recipient. 

Rating: Gen

Warnings: Major Character Death

Tags: Letters, Love Letters, Love Confessions, Sad, Grief/Mourning, Children of Earth Compliant

Word Count: 697

Beta-ed by flamingbluepanda

To Ianto Jones,    

I don’t know how else to start a letter to you. Is there even a point to writing it now? So many years have passed. I haven’t seen you in so long.

I started writing this letter because  

I don’t really know exactly why I started writing this letter. I felt like I needed to. I need to write down what I couldn’t say, what I couldn’t share. And you’ll never read this, but you deserve to have it written down. You deserve to be immortalised in writing. And even though you will never be able to read this, you deserve to have this letter written to you. You deserved it much earlier than I could bring myself to finally write it all down.

It’s been a thousand years at least since you died.

Keeping time in space is wonky. There are different kind of standards all through the galaxies and I don’t always keep up with them or try to convert them to Terran.

But I figure it’s been a thousand years.

And I find myself thinking of you. Thinking of how I could have changed things. Avoided the heartbreak. Maybe if I had distanced myself, maybe if I’d been stronger, been more aloof, colder. Maybe then you wouldn’t have followed me. Maybe then you’d have lived a longer life. But you wanted me.

I wish I could say I discouraged you. I could say I tried but I didn’t really try that hard. I wanted you. And as we grew, I wanted you more.

You once said to me that we chose each other. That you chose me. That I could walk away whenever I wanted to. You were greedy, didn’t want to walk away from me. Kept me for yourself. Never let go.

And at the same time you didn’t believe you were anyone special. That I would find someone just like you in a thousand years or more.

Never have I met someone like you. Never will I ever meet someone like you. The time we had was our only chance at happiness. I wish I could have held it longer.

I held you in my arms as you died. It was torture seeing your last moments. But at least I held you until the end. It was a long time before I could calmly accept that. Before I could be thankful for that. Even as I refused to answer your confession, I held you and I promised to remember you for a thousand years and more. I hope you knew the love those words held. My love for you. No, I know you knew, because I knew you as you knew me. Nobody knew me as you knew me.

I had you only for such a short time. But you weren’t mine to keep.

And still I dance around the words.

It’s not that hard is it?  

You didn’t seem to have any pro  

It was probably also hard for you  

Screw it.

I love you, Ianto Jones. Probably loved you since the first time I held you in my arms. And I regret not showing you more. Not cherishing you properly from the very beginning and even further on in our relationship. You made it easy to seem aloof. I shouldn’t have let you. I should have broken down the walls.      Should not have cared about  

No, I didn’t do that part wrong. You cared about it. You set the boundaries and I respected them. I just should have talked with you more. About us.

Should have made it clear where I stood.

Well, at least I wrote it down here. They’re here in the ink. All my feelings for you. Though perhaps not all of them. That would make a longer letter. Maybe I’ll write another one.

Wish you could read this letter.

Wish I could hold you in my arms again. Feel your head on my shoulders. I miss that weight. I miss your kisses. Your touch. Your sarcasm. Your clever little naming sense. That smile.

I miss you and I’ll keep missing you, I know.

I love you and always will.

Yours,

Captain Jack Harkness

#Torchwood Bingo Fest 2020 #Torchwood #my fanfiction #fanfiction #writing #my writing #Jack Harkness #Ianto Jones #immortality #based on a song of your choice #Youngblood #5sos

[hollenka99]

A Day Long Overdue

Summary: Jack is allowed to spend his birthday with the egos. (Essentially a sequel to A Talk With The Creator).

Hey, guess which AU isn’t dead! It’s been like 3 months since I last posted something for the Creator AU (or anything for that matter) but I’m back. Have some bittersweet fluff with a hint of angst.

Jack wakes up, older than he remembers being. He's in a bed, a medical one at that. It would appear he was in Schneep's medical bay. There is no recollection of being sent here. The grogginess is interfering with that. He should probably find an assistance button to alert the doctor. That's when he notices the cards. Upon further inspection, he can only assume these are for a birthday. His birthday. He is able to read some of them before a commotion is heard in a different part of the building. Henrik stands in the doorway, seemingly incapable of not staring at him. Unsure of how to break the ice, Jack comes out with "I guess I'm not 27 anymore, am I?" "Not really." His doctor remains stationary, smiling until his attention diverts to the collection of footsteps approaching. "Wait! He's not ready yet." "Schneep, what the hell are you doing? We want to see Jack too." That sounded like Chase. "Just one minute." Henrik points to someone Jack can't see. "You see him first." "So it is your birthday today. We got you cards and presents. But there is something I think you will like better than all that." "What is it then?" Jack smiles humourously. Schneep turns his head back to the corridor. "Come now." Dressed in jogging bottoms and a hoodie which swallowed him, a teenager stepped into his view. Eyes brim the longer he takes in the image of Jack sitting up in bed. His face has matured a little since they'd last been in the same room. All those months he'd been petrified at the thought of him being hurt while held captive, where he'd pointlessly jotted down memorable events in the hope the youngest ego was still alive to possibly read them one day. All that fruitless hoping and searching must have finally produced a result. It had caused him to be standing feet away. The kid even had a bit of a quiff going on. Jackie. Fuck, this was Jackie. "Hey." Jack breathes out an incredulous "No way." Jackie takes a seat on the bed. The hero's embrace is stronger than the one he can return. Jack gets so lost in mutterings of 'Oh my god' and 'You're okay' that it accidentally becomes melded together at one point. When they both register the blunder, they dissolve into snickers. "I think I forgot how to English properly." "I think so too." "How long have you been back?" "September 2017." "We missed each other by a month?" Jack stares at the baby of their little family. "Yeah." "That sucks." "You have no idea." Tears are wiped but it proves futile as they are immediately replaced. "We've all missed you so much." "You can say that again." Jack glances past Jackie's shoulder to see a small crowd crammed by the entrance to the room. Before he is allowed to greet anyone else, Henrik insists on detaching him from as many wires as was necessary. Once given the all clear, Jack is left beaming as he is encompassed by three of his friends. Chase has a revelation about someone who shouldn't be missing out on the action. He sprints down the corridor to fetch them. He is perched on the bed, assuring Henrik he felt absolutely fine, when the two return. One near-inaudible 'Crikey!' is all it takes for him to freeze. Surely not. Yet there was one of his oldest friends. Angus didn't appear so run down. Was this for real? First Jackie was home and now Angus was healthier. He hadn't been awake for very long and it is already shaping to be a fantastic day. "You look much better than the last time I saw you." "Speak for yourself, mate." He can't help but sob as he approaches Angus. At least the survival hunter wasn't leaving him to be the only one. He is so grateful for the others allowing the two of them to stay in each other's hold for as long as they needed. It's been so long since his Australian friend has been this present. God, it's been so so very long. Despite Henrik not being sure it was for the best, the five of them lead Jack to the living room. Apparently, they had bought a cake to commemorate the day. He had always been partial to red velvet. Although, thinking about it, that was likely the point of them picking that flavour. Cake was still cake either way. He wasn't going to pass up the opportunity for a slice. He notices a German Shepherd hovering by Jackie. He assures his dog that she doesn't need to work at that moment. Work? Gwen, Jackie clarifies, is a service dog to help with his mental health. She sleeps in his room and keeps him company for most occasions excluding his heroing duties. Oh, okay. Well, that just makes her even more of a good girl, doesn't it? Marvin mentions the expansion of his cat collection. Hardeen and Houdini tended to do their own thing while Trico was up for cuddles most of the time. There was also his rabbit whom he had dubbed Tim the Enchanter. Hang on, hang on, so Marvin was saying that not only did he have the Egyptian goddess of cats but also one of the best known magicians in history and his brother, the best fictional creature in gaming as well as a minor character in Monty Python as pets? The magician's completely straight expression as he challenges Jack to fight him causes him to burst into laughter. Trico turning out to be from a small breed makes it all the better. Chatter explodes between the group over cake slices. Okay, let him get this straight. He has been a coma for the past year and a half. Schneep still isn't sure what exactly the illness that caused this was. Regardless, it's good to have him conscious once more. It is not his 28th birthday as he had initially presumed but his 29th. In that time, a fan game was released which aided in Angus regaining some strength. There were four new egos: a community-conceived zombie called Robbie, Shawn Flynn who was born from a Bendy voice acting gig. Jameson Jackson the pumpkin carving actor that communicated via BSL and an android nicknamed S34Nnor. On top of all that, there was a significant lack of green in anyone's hair. Jack wasn't going to say it out loud but perhaps Chase's beard could use a trim. Not only was Sean doing voice acting gigs, he had travelled across America and Europe with his own comedy show. He was interviewing celebrities too. Sorry, what do they mean, Sean met Ryan Reynolds?! Wow, that was huge. They mention Sean also hanging out with some guy called Bryan Dechart but that name doesn't ring bells. "Okay, Chase, do the line." Jackie encourages. "Alright but that was Sean's series so... keep that in mind." Chase take a breath in preparation then, "Hi, I'm Connor, the android sent by Cyberlife." They all cheer and laugh at that. S34Nnor speaks up. "As a combination of both the character of Connor and Sean, I believe I can improve upon your already good attempt." The line is repeated and everyone becomes excitable once more. "Yes!" The outburst is Chase's as he points to the android with a grin. When the noise has died down again, his expression appears to make his new words honest. "I'm planning on stealing that jacket one day." "You're going to have to fight me for it." Jackie gives a disingenuous glare. "Besides, I'm part machine now sooo go off, I guess." Jack loves the atmosphere. It's been years since it has been this lively here. If this was February 2019 then it must be over two years since their household has been whole. After Halloween 2016, they lost Jackie's playfulness. His absence had been deeply felt throughout the house. It didn't matter now. Who cares if he's so out of the loop that this Cyberlife stuff and any other running jokes don't make sense to him? This house has been missing this sort of energy. He refuses to risk killing it. However, one comment piques his interest. Something tells him to broach this subject carefully. It seemed like it may be sensitive. "Part machine?" "Oh right. Well, I don't technically have any knees anymore." Jackie gestures to his legs. "Prosthetics, both of them." That made sense, given the comment. It doesn't faze him in the slightest that Jackie has had life altering surgery at such a young age. Nope, not at all. "....Prosthetics." "Yeah, it's not that big of a deal. I just hurt my legs when I was getting out." "He has been doing very well with the physical therapy." Henrik smiles. Coming back with a drink in hand and a grin, Jacques pats the superhero's shoulder. "Got a little crush too. What is her name? Aisha?" "Nyesha. And I don't have a crush on her. We're just friends. Not even close ones at that. Tori is aesthetically admirable too." "What a sophisticated way of pronouncing attractive." Marvin teases. "Stop!" The hood was up now with the surrounding strings yanked. "Okay, okay, I think I've got the idea." Jack leans closer. "Promise me you'll let me know if you ask her or anyone else out, alright?" Out of resignation, Jackie mumbles out a "Sure.", only to sit up and divert the attention to the magician. "Marv has a partner though." "Oh, does he?" At this, the new subject of the conversation chuckles, happily telling Jack whatever he wants to know. Jack tries to protest when Jackie is given alcohol. With a soft smile, the youngest member of this family reminded Jack he was 18 now. Of course he is. It was 2019. Jackie has been 18 for some seven months now. July next year, he'll be entering his 20s. Actually, now that Jack thought about it, he and Sean would be 30 next February. Well then. That wasn't crazy to think about. Speaking of Sean, the two of them should really sit down and have a discussion. Although hazy, memories were slowly converging to form recollections of the disastrous dispute. There was a lot to talk about. He's lost eighteen months of his life. There were amendments to be made. If Sean's been on a worldwide tour, he wants to hear about it from the horse's mouth. That must have been an amazing experience. And Signe, he wonders how she's doing. He always regretted the way she kept getting indirectly caught up in his and Sean's dysfunctional friendship. He should wish Sean a happy birthday. That's probably a decent first step to brokering peace. Plus, if his long time friend woke up from a coma on his birthday, that would probably make his day. Jack can only hope Sean would agree. He makes an off-hand comment about this. The idea of reconciling with Sean gets shot down within seconds. Jesus, he doubts he's seen this level of hatred in Marvin towards anyone other than Anti. What the hell did Sean do to warrant this sort of universal repulsion towards him? "Trust me, you do not want to know." Henrik grumbles. Right. In that case, he'd better leave it until tomorrow. Jack is careful when enquiring about Chase and Henrik's families. He's pleasantly surprised when it is generally positive. Chase sees his kids on weekends now which is fantastic. But surely Noah couldn't be little over a week away from turning 5. He was just 3. Willow and Alina were much more confident readers. Jack remembers two little girls who struggled to piece together syllables in simple sentences. They would both be beginning primary school in September. Likewise, Elias was already in his first year of secondary school. Could people stop getting older? He can't keep up. He laughs with them when Chase says "You think they're growing up too fast for you." They order pizza in the evening. Schneep is still against him eating solid food but relents once more. Jack has eaten cake today and there have been no repercussions. As Jacques and Jackie debate with Angus about whether stuffed crust enhanced the experience, Jack took the opportunity to get to know Jameson. With Chase translating, he discovers this is a unique ego. An entire life before coming to exist here. It's such a novel concept to Jack. Even he, as the first ego Sean ever made, can't imagine having proper memories prior to creation. He's used to the others being born with limited memories. Man, he could listen to this guy's anecdotes of the early 20th century all night if he and Chase were willing to carry on that long. They are still hanging around in the living room as midnight is crossed. Some egos have already excused themselves to retire to bed. Once Jack realises it is nearing 1am, he urges everyone else to head to their beds. They shouldn't stay up for him. Besides, he was the one who didn't sleep, remember. He would never wish for them to become sleep deprived for his sake. They refuse and remain. Before long, the man who never slept was experiencing long blinks. Was he tired? Wait, no, this isn't right. The only time he's felt this close to collapse is when... when it's a medical emergency. Like when his throat was bleeding. Or when all he knew was that he didn't feel well. Henrik crouches before him, steadying him in his hold. It's not okay. Stop saying it's going to be okay. Something's wrong, incredibly wrong. Henrik takes his hands, encouraging him to stand. The doctor explains it's likely the sudden regaining of consciousness is catching up with him. Assurances that it was perfectly fine for him to be feeling like this are repeated as they head towards the infirmary. All Henrik wanted to do was monitor him safely. Jack's arm couldn't help slipping from where it was wrapped across his friend's shoulder. Schneep adjusted it without hesitation every time. He defies his eyes any attempt they make to gain an advantage over him. Even when laying on the bed, he refuses the urge to relax. Henrik promises nothing will happen. He is as much of a Good Doctor as he is his friend, right? Please trust he will try to provide the best care he's able. He knows he has failed him before but- "Never!" Jack protests. "You are little bit tired. Is okay for you to sleep. Don't need to fight the sleep, my friend." "Not..." He drifts, only to remember himself a minute later. "Not a failure." "Thank you. Now please rest. We can have a lot of the chit chatting in the morning, yes?" "A'right." A roll of the eyes. A drowsy half smile. A prolonged exhale. And that's all it takes for them to lose him once more. No matter how much Henrik sits, gripping his friend's hand as the monitors revert to the figures they were displaying previously, it won't prove helpful in the slightest to permanently wake Jack up. When Marvin regretfully comes to urge him to get some sleep himself, Henrik waves him off. Just a few more minutes, okay? Then he'll go to bed. As much as they had to fault Sean on, they couldn't say he hadn't done something good today. Henrik can only hope Jack had enjoyed his birthday. Maybe they'd be able to celebrate with him next year too. Maybe. Either way, he couldn't stay here the whole night. With a final check of the equipment, he bids him goodnight. "One of these days, we will get longer. I promise."

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye egos #creator au #my writing #writersofjack #It will be 2am in roughly 20 minutes but I got it done #it hurt me to end it like that but there was no other way

[cornfields-and-bad-dreams]

Fictober19, Day 4: “I know you didn’t ask for this.”

Fandom: Achievement Hunter, FAHC

Word Count: 1,009

Warnings: death, blood, mild gore, major character death(hinted).

Synopsys: The fakes aren’t quite the well-oiled machine many think them to be.  Sometimes the mess up, and innocent people pay the price.

The day was dreary, rain pouring down in sheets so thick one could hardly see in front of them.  It was the perfect day to stay inside, yet sadly enough it was also the perfect day to visit the cemetery.  A man stood in front of a grave, the rain nearly obscuring the words etched into it.

Madison David 7/30/2000-10/4/2019

The Vagabond, or Ryan as his friends called him, was used to death, hell he was used to killing people, but the people he killed deserved it.  This was different.  Ryan could remember the day in perfect detail, it was a day he wished he could forget.

"W-what happened?"  Her voice was quiet and strained.

The girl was partially obscured by rubble but it was clear to Ryan that she'd been impaled through the abdomen by a piece of rebar.  Blood oozed out from the debris, soaking into Ryans Jeans as he knelt by the girl's side.  Her eyes didn't seem to be focused on anything in particular just staring vaguely upward as she mumbled intangibly under her breath.  Ryan wasn't even sure she knew he was there.

"We got a situation here," Ryan spoke into his radio "I'm in the building next to the entry point."  A moment after he made the call a response came through, Geoff and Jack were on their way to meet him.

It had been pure luck that Ryan found her, he'd been the last in line and just about to enter with the others when a noise from the other building caught his attention.  With his mask, Ryan sometimes missed softer sounds, hearing this one was fortuitous.

"I know you didn't ask for this." Ryan began "You didn't deserve this, there's no way you did."

The girl was young, that Ryan could tell, 17 at the very least.  Much too young to die, but Ryan wasn't sure what to do.  Ryan didn't even know what other injuries she could have sustained, head trauma, internal bleeding?  Plus there was whatever the rubble was surely hiding.

Ryan could feel tears welling in his eyes, it was funny really, The Vagabond crying over the death of some random civilian.  But The Vagabond was just a character, and behind that character was Ryan.  Ryan was the kinda guy who'd cry for the loss of an innocents life, especially if he felt responsible.  Taking off his mask Ryan wiped away his tears.

The girl's eyes found Ryan, widening in a moment of sudden and apparent realization.

"Y-you're the V-v-vagabond."  Her face seemed to pail and Ryan wasn't sure if it was from fear or bloodloss.

She started to shake, and as quickly as the clarity in her eyes came it went, she stared hazily through Ryan.

"Oh no."

Ryan took her hand in his and squeezed it gently just as the sound of footsteps could be heard, quickly followed by Geoffs voice.

"Okay Vagabond what's wro-HOLY FUCK!"

"Oh my god." Jack stood behind Geoff, eyes wide with her hands covering her mouth.

"We have to do something."  Ryan pleaded.

"Ryan," Jack breathed "I don't think there's anything we can do."  Her voice was soft.

"No, we did this to her we have to fix it."  Ryan insisted, anger, but mostly fear, in his voice.

"Ryan, look at her.  We can't move her, we can't remove the rebar, we can't replace the blood she's already lost, there is nothing we can do for her." Geoff rationalized.

"We can't just leave her to die." Ryan bellowed.

"I'm gonna die?"

She'd caught the three criminals by surprise, all of them turned to her.  Jack moved to the girls left side opposite Ryan, kneeling down she started pushing the girls bangs out of her face.

"No, no of course not," Jack gently cupped the girl's cheek, wiping away tears with her thumb "You'll be fine." She, of course, was lying, but in this situation the truth would be unhelpful.

The sound of police sirens faded in from the distance slowly growing louder.  Geoff breathed heavily adjusting his bowtie.

"The cops will be here soon, if there's anything that can be done for her they'll be the ones to get the ball rolling." He spoke more towards Ryan. "Jack go get the car started, I'll go gather the others.  Ryan, you should head for the car too."

Geoff left for the other building, followed by Jack, leaving Ryan alone with the girl once again.  Ryan felt guilty even thinking about leaving her alone, but he also knew there wasn't much time until the police arrived.  With a heavy heart, Ryan decided to go.

"I'm sorry."  Ryan gently squeezed her hand and let go.  Exiting the building he met up with the others as they all made a break for the getaway car.  Getting in Ryan gave a final glance to the building she'd been in before they pulled away.

Ryan ran his hand over the top of the headstone.

"We knew we were gonna cause collateral to the next-door building when we blasted our way into our mark, it was abandoned though, we didn't see the harm.  Still, we should have made sure it was clear, you shouldn't have died.  I don't really believe in an afterlife but I'm starting to wish I did, you deserve some kind of paradise for what we did to you.  We don't deserve your forgiveness, so I won't ask for it.  I'm just sorry you died alone, I should have stayed, should have given you that at the least." Ryan began to walk away but turned back. "I know I shouldn't be asking anything of you, but I just have a small request.  Where ever you are, If you meet a guy with a purple hoodie and glasses who likes roses, can you tell him the gang misses him?  He didn't deserve to die either, and I really wish it'd been me.  You don't have to tell him that last part, he'd probably kick my ass from the other side just for saying that."

#fictober19 #fahc vagabond #fahc geoff #fahc jack #FAHC #fahc ray #writing #fanfiction #Mention of death #mild gore #gore #blood #character death

[writingonthemoon]

Old Clothes Part 4

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Word Count: ≈ 2116

Warnings: Mentions of death, murder, fear of failure

Author's Note: Okay, so I accidentally started previously that Odette first Burned when she was nine.  That was incorrect as she was much younger.  Also, this isn’t exactly what I wanted for this part, but I think it sets up my plans for the next part nicely.

Old clothes are always a little strange.  Someone once loved them—cherished them—and now they’re nothing more than a mask.  The quality vanishes with the donation bin.  Dresses for the rich are now for the poor and those for the poor are falling to pieces.  Those stitched by mothers have a different energy about them.  The love that holds the fabric together never quite fades and it always remains soft, even after the countless storms and attacks of nature.  The items warmed your soul whenever they were held and the rush of emotions was overwhelming in the most brilliant way possible.  My sister missed the opportunity for that feeling.

     My mother used to make my clothes for me. She would buy the fabrics and spend an entire Sunday making me a new outfit. They were my favourite things in all the world. We only kept one when we first left. It was the one I was wearing, but it wasn't the same when it was handed down to Clara. Ashes had woven their way into the seams and the smell of fire lingered no matter what we would do. The warmth of love carried the burning of a fire. Delicate lace that lined the edges were rough with hardened emotions.

      I sighed and motioned for my audience to sit down. Jack and Davey pulled chairs out from my table, still staying quite close. Albert grabbed a seat for Crutchie and himself, while Buttons plopped himself on the ground with his legs crossed. "Before I say anything else, you have to promise you won't tell anyone. Not a soul. I shouldn't be telling you any of this since it puts more people than just me in danger, but I think you deserve to know. Promise." I made eye contact with every one of them and they all nodded in reply. "Great. Fantastic. Brilliant." I ran my hand through my hair once again.

     "I was born in London, I believe, in 1791. My father's name is—was James and my mother's name was Lilijah. At least, that's what their names were while I was growing up. The Burn existed long before I was born, probably back when the first monarchies began. It was never meant to be a way of life. The Burn... it was always a safety procedure, a cautionary plan if you will.

     "Say everything goes wrong. You're being framed for murder or are being chased by the police or mafia or it's anything else that's basically the end of the world for you. Well, in my family, that's the end of the world for whomever you were. Then, you are reborn, so to speak.

     "It's simple enough, really. Everything you once owned, your clothes, books, anything that could identify you, would be taken out to an empty space. There, you set a match to it, lighting everything ablaze and erasing all evidence of you ever existing. It worked exceptionally well when I was little since towns and cities were so spread out and people just died suddenly, but people would notice if you just disappeared since there were so few people living in the area. Today, it's easy to vanish, but harder to locate a burn spot.

     "Once the ashes lay at your feet, you build yourself again. New name, new place, new story. Of course, this plan wasn't meant for frequent use. So you have to get creative sometimes. I can't even tell you how many people I've become. My name is Odette Davenport, though. It's the one thing I've always known. I don't know my birthday, where I'm truly from, how I prefer my tea or if I even like tea. At this point, Odette is just another character I'm to play before I move on from this place."

     My gaze met the ground as I paused, not knowing how to go on. Two of these boys were related to me. They have a right to know, but should they? Who knew how many times Clara and Elijah had Burned before settling down and washing the ash from their nailbeds. Did they even share the family shame with anyone or was it the secret that killed them? No, they should know. They should know why.

     Jesse. No, he's not Jesse. Jesse is gone now, he doesn't matter. This one does. He's different, better than Jesse. In his eyes, I'm a person. A real person who feels the same as others do and thinks the same thoughts. I'm just older, suffering a long-lasting curse, just as he is. His leg was the poison that was crawling through his body and killing him slowly. The water rushed through my veins, stripping away any sign of illness or death, keeping me alive. How I wished I could switch with him, feel sickness and pain and worry about mortality instead of harbouring the fear of my past coming up behind me and pushing me over the edge, only to fall forever.

      Jack and Davey must think I'm insane with my tale. That or they're calling into question what they knew about life and the universe.  Perhaps it was both at once.  The two need not be here, listening to my woes, yet they sit in anticipation, awaiting my next breath.  But why?  This has no consequence upon their lives.  I’m merely a single person in a list of thousands that they’ve met just in a day.  Compared to the years they would exist, it’s an interaction that means most nothing.  Yet they are content with sitting and giving me their attention as if I were the Queen during a time of war.  An odd comparison since my actions would lead me down a far less noble path where I would abdicate the throne and flee the country.

     "I was four when I first Burned.  I had accidentally stolen food and my parents feared the worst.  We weren't living in a town known for forgiveness.  We packed up in the middle of the night, brought everything out to the field.  I still feel the scorching heat on my face sometimes, when I’m at my lowest.  The smell of burning memories in one you never think you'll know, but you’ll never forget it either.  We kept very few things from my first life.  My grandmother's ring," I held up my hand to show off the flat gold front with worn initials carved into the front, "some money, the clothes we were wearing, and our names." There was a small gasp from Buttons and Albert.  The family trait for worry and fear of failure seemed to run deeper than I thought.

     "My brother Elijah Burned when he was five and Clara was only one at the time.  Once again, it was all my fault.  My mind escaped me and I wandered to follow it.  I was only ten and they shouldn’t have blamed me for what I came across." I huffed and shook my head, clearing the daunting image from my brain, "It was a body, what I found.  I...They thought I killed him.  Me, a ten-year-old, killed a fully grown man.  I was going to be arrested, put on death row, for something I didn’t do.  So we Burned.  After that, it became frequent.  The five of us carried matches on our person just in case we had to leave in a hurry.  We no longer controlled the burn.  It controlled us."

     "Wait, you was four when youse did this?" I nodded to Jack, confirming the answer he knew, "But you was just a kid!  That ain’t right!"

     "I lived in different times, Jack.  Very different times.  I was British in America not eight years after the War for Independence.  They would do anything to get rid of us.  It was like we were a plague when we wanted out of England the same way they did." I glanced out the dingy window, seeing the onset twilight, "Oh god, I best be going." I pushed myself off the table I was perched on, "Thank you for the supplies to fix myself up and I guess for listening to part of my life story." My mouth met the cheeks of each boy in thanks, something I had picked up in my travels.  I started backing out of the room when Crutchie’s face caught my eye.  He was crestfallen, the corners of his mouth turning down as he sighed and kicked lightly at the ground.  I couldn't just leave like this.  Not after what I had told them all.  But I needed to. "Do one of you think you could walk me to my hotel?  It is quite dark and I don’t want to be in any danger."

     Before anyone could respond, Jack stepped forward, "I'll take ya.  I know dese streets betta than anyone else." He led me out the Lodging House as I waved at the boys in a final goodbye.  I uttered the address of my temporary arrangements and we stalked the streets in silence, becoming long shadows that extend for miles around sharp corners.  I watched Jack more than the path ahead of me, trying to piece together the mystery I wanted to know.  He and Davey... what was it about them?

     "You know, if ya wanna look at me, starin' like that ain't too covert."

     "Davey," Jack's posture straightened and I could tell his breaths were shallowing, "there's something about him you like, isn't there.  More than just a friend perhaps."

      "I don't know what youse talkin' 'bout.  Dave is one a my best friends," I saw the slight fall in his expression, turning to sadness and bitterness, "Why would there be anything else to 'im that I like?  It's not like I'll just listen to him go on hours 'bout nothin'.  And it ain't his pretty eyes or soft hair or anything.  Definitely not." He shook his head and met my gaze, a pleading look on his face.  Nobody could know.  Even if Jack couldn't help himself when it came to talking about his counterpart, no one could know.

     "Definitely not." I winked at him and we chuckled.  A quiet followed afterwards until Jack broke the invisible barrier

     "You ain't gonna leave us, right?  Not yet?"

     I stared him dead in the eye, ready to avoid making the real decision, "Of course not.  There’s still so much you all don't know yet."

     "Great.  I think Al and Buttons really enjoy having you here.  Crutch too.  He doesn't trust many too much.  There's only a few of us he’s real close to.  Somethin' about you is different.  I could see it in his face.  I think he really likes ya." I blushed at the thought of Crutchie liking me.  It wasn't a concept that was foreign to me, but I didn't expect it from this boy after hearing I was immortal.

      The middle-class building loomed above us, beckoning me towards the room I had booked, "I guess this is me." I shrugged and thanked Jack for walking me.  he stole a hug before running back into the night.  My fingers found my hair as I entered the building, climbing the stairs.  The room I had booked was tiny, a single bed crammed against the wall and a trunk placed at the end.   A window was across from the door, leading to the fire escape, and there was a cracked mirror mounted by a closet that would fit only a child.

     My fingers found their way around the room, collecting my things as my mind ran around the world, searching for a place to run to.  The checklist was losing empty boxes and the panic inside me wasn't reflected on the outside. This was normal.  My footsteps were almost nonexistent as I floated out of the room and to the empty bathroom shared by all the guests on my floor.  The lock flicked shut at my will and I carefully stacked my items within the confines of the bathtub.  I opened the window to filter the air into the black night.

     But the boys.  I couldn't do this to them.  My family.  Crutchie.  It wasn't fair that I was leaving them in the dark, no idea of the end or middle of the story.  then again, life was never fair either.  Certainly not this one.  The moment I started this, it went downhill.  I studied the pile across from me, spinning the historic ring around my finger.  My hand found the box in my pocket.  A snap of the wrist later and my face was illuminated with the soft glow of the burning match. Ashes were always the beginning, but what was the end?

#ooo cliffhanger #old clothes

[thegoodbitchofthesouth]

Jack in the box

If I am doing this wrong or you don't want to be tagged in this post, please let me know and how to fix it. @metafest @letswarriorfangirl @amwritingmeta @emblue-sparks @angelneedshunter @verobatto-angelxhunter @magnificent-winged-beast @staycejo1

I needed to take a bit to get my thoughts more in order, I should have done that before I made that rambling post before. Anyway, there seemed to be a few themes in this episode-  One is about the similarities and differences in the characters, and how they are destined to repeat history because of it.

 For example, Dean is just as prone as Jack to reaching a point of emotional meltdown and saying/doing things when he is angry, afraid or hurt that he shouldn’t and that hurt the people he loves, the only difference is that Dean isn’t a two year old and teenager at the same time, the two stages in a person’s life when they have very limited self-control, and Dean doesn’t have Jack’s powers. If Dean was as powerful as Jack, he would have destroyed the universe long ago in one of his meltdowns.

 The parallel between Dean and Duma is obvious, so I won’t go over that one. But there is also a parallel between Dean and John. The first time Mary was killed, John basically did the same thing Dean is doing now- he went looking for revenge on Azazel and was so blinded by it that he couldn’t see he was basically doing to his kids and Dean hasn’t seen how he is following the same path as John. John basically locked Sam and Dean in a metal box (though Baby is a much nicer metal box) or in cells in the form of hotel rooms alone where they had very limited exposure to other people and had very little reference for normal human behavior and healthier ways to deal with things, and expected them to behave like adults when they were just children. He didn’t accept that they were kids who would make mistakes, he always expected them to follow orders, behave as adults and it put an incredible amount of pressure on them, especially Dean. He basically set Dean up to feel like mistakes were unforgivable and accidents should be harshly punished, except when Sam made them, and even then, Dean may not have wanted to kill Sam, but he did lock him in a metal cell (a much bigger, more comfortable one, but still a cell) and when he let him out, he spent months reminding him over and over again of his mistake and making him feel like crap about it. Also Dean looked up to John and wanted his approval so much that he let himself be manipulated, he accepted blame and guilt for things that should never have been put on him (he should not have been left to protect Sam from a monster when he wasn’t even ten years old yet) and was willing to do anything John said to get his approval, and he never felt like he got it.

 Jack has been shown doing all sorts of things to indicate that he wants Dean’s approval, he sees him as a father (he asked to go fishing because he said Dean told him about fishing with his father, and he mimicked Dean all the time) and at the moment, it looks like he may not get Dean’s approval. He wants so badly to meet these expectations that shouldn’t be put on him because he is essentially a toddler, and as we have seen, having all the pressure of those expectations proved to be too much. I don’t think that Jack killed Mary out of wrath, he never wanted her to die, he was just in a panic and having a meltdown because of the overwhelming fear of falling short of Dean’s expectations when Dean found out. I don’t think he ever wanted to hurt her, he had an emotional meltdown normal for anyone as young and under as much pressure as Jack has been, and unfortunately when he has a meltdown it’s like an atom bomb going off, and Mary was just in the blast radius.

 I just read a fic on Tumblr that pointed out that someone with glowing yellow eyes was responsible for Mary’s death both times, and both times she died trying to protect a child, but that is where the similarities ended. Azazel was a centuries old Demon, intent on malice who consciously chose to kill her in a painful, slow way and she stayed in that house as a ghost, unable to move on. Jack killed her by accident, he never wanted to hurt her, he didn’t plan on it, he loved her, and her death was instant, and she did go straight to heaven. Dean may subconsciously be seeing the parallel of Azazel and Jack both killing her, driving his urge to kill Jack in revenge, but not seeing any distinction beyond that, not caring that it was an accident made by someone who lacked the maturity, experience and self-control. All he can see is that he lost her again and he is hurting.

 Sam on the other hand, is like Jack in that he was different from his family and everyone he knew, first in that he was highly intelligent and didn’t want to be a hunter, and then later when he learned about what Azazel did to him when he was a baby. He felt trapped by his family and expectations and he was desperate to get out of the metaphorical Malak box he was in, and he also found a way to escape. And we have seen him relate and sympathize with others who know they are different and have the expectations of others pushed on them but want to not be what the world sees them as. He even told Jack that he understood how he felt because he was in a similar situation growing up, this was why he was Jack’s ‘go to man’. He can also relate to having Lucifer be way too interested in him.

 Sam also parallels Dean in this episode in that he cares deeply about Jack, he has been trying since Jack’s birth to be there for him and try to give him at least some normalcy in any way he could, he protected him and stood between Dean and Jack in the beginning when Jack hadn’t even done anything yet and Dean wanted to kill him just for existing. After Jack killed Mary, he still wants to help and protect Jack, but he finds himself in the same position Dean was in when they were growing up that Dean mentioned in Prophet and Loss when he said he knew that it seemed like he took John’s side a lot growing up, but he was just trying to keep the peace. Sam caved and went along with this scheme of Dean’s even though he hated it, the same way Dean backed John up when they were kids a lot of the time.

 Dean does have a history of deceit and manipulation prior to this episode, mostly with Sam, and I think Sam remembers how Dean manipulated him in the past to say yes to Gadreel and essentially forced him to take his soul back regardless of what Sam want. He took away Sam’s free will. Dean also has a history of being a hypocrite, saying free will is all important, until it means he might lose someone, and then it’s negotiable. Sam knew this about Dean, Dean has done very similar things to Sam in the past, but when Dean asks him to help do the same to Jack, he goes along with it, allows Dean to manipulate him into taking part and in turn manipulate Jack, probably in the same manner that John would use Dean and Sam’s trust in Dean to get Sam to do what John wanted.  Sam is basically stuck in the middle.

  Jack parallels Sam in that he trusted Dean and Sam and allowed them to lock him in the box the way Sam allowed Dean and Bobby to lock him in the panic room, and later when he trusted Dean and Dean tricked him into saying yes to Gadreel. He wants Dean’s approval the way Sam does, and he trusts Sam and Dean to the point that he allows them to manipulate him. There is a metaphorical similarity also in the way Sam escaped John, Dean, and the prison of his life by getting out and going to Stanford, the way that Jack escaped the prison that Dean and Sam locked him in.

 There is even a parallel between Jack and Chuck, and kind of between Dean and Chuck. The things that Jack did to the professor, televangelist and pastor were all acts from the Old Testament, reminding us that God/Chuck didn’t always write books in his underwear and wasn’t always as mellow and forgiving as he is now, and more prone to making rash decisions and punishing people a lot more harshly. Even Chuck/God was prone to immaturity and lashing out when he was young, but he learned from it and got better. Hell, he flooded the entire earth once because he didn’t like the way people were becoming, and he burned an entire city to the ground and turned a woman to salt, *just because she looked over her damn shoulder*.

 The other theme is about blame, assigning blame and forgiveness. One of the first things Duma said to Jack that made him so easy to manipulate was, “It’s not your fault.” Dean challenged both Cas and Jack by asking “So this was her/our fault?!” Because Dean needs it to be someone’s fault, he needs someone to blame. If he can feel like someone is at fault, he can take action and feel justified in it. Not that he felt it was Mary’s or their fault, he just wants someone else to say it was, someone he already blames/blamed. Last episode he was convinced it was Cas’s fault.

 Another pattern is being so desperate for absolution and forgiveness so badly that you are willing to blindly trust people when you shouldn’t, the way Jack is so easily swayed by Duma just because she said it wasn’t his fault. When he met her before, it wasn’t actually her, it was the Shadow, trying to take him away to the Empty and making that horrible deal with Cas. All of his experience with her outward appearance should have been enough to make him distrust her. We see it again later when he goes into the church and promises the congregation that he will take them to heaven and make them angels and they just blindly follow him. He might as well have been a stranger in a van offering them candy. Along that same theme, there is the way the people who show doubt or question are treated. Even though Chuck said it was okay not to believe in him because he included free will in the kit, Duma convinced Jack that it was right to punish the atheist professor by turning him to salt, and Jack later tortured the pastor for questioning him. I believe that the reason Chuck included free will in the kit was that he learned with Adam and Eve that a little bit of skepticism is a good thing, otherwise they wouldn’t have been so easily tricked by Lucifer in the Garden.

 Last of all, not a theme of the episode, but did Bobby seem weird to anyone else? I can’t decide if it was just weird writing, or intentional because he is the AU Bobby who doesn’t have the same history with Sam and Dean as our Bobby, or intentional to indicate something else. For one thing, he never called either Sam or Dean, or even Jack by their names. He called them ‘You boys’ and called Dean ‘the other one’, and Jack was just ‘the kid’. Maybe you could chalk that up to being because he is the AU Bobby who didn’t practically raise Sam and Dean, but the way he was talking about hunting down and killing Jack seemed very strange to me. Even as the AU Bobby, he seemed to take the other AU hunters and survivors under his wing and see them in the same way our version of Bobby saw Sam and Dean. He was angry with Sam when he felt like Sam sent Maggie and possibly other hunters out on missions alone before they were ready. He had a son of his own that he lost. Previous appearances of AU Bobby seemed to indicate that he shared our Bobby’s strong parenting instincts and our Bobby wouldn’t shoot Sam when he was trying to kill Bobby, or when Sam escaped from the panic room and was going to leave, he managed to over ride a demon and stab himself, putting himself in a wheelchair, to keep from hurting Dean. And he told Sam that he would never have written him off and cut him out of his life like that, it was the demon talking. He was helping to train Jack the way our Bobby trained Sam and Dean. All of this and all that we know about Bobby just doesn’t fit with Bobby being able to just turn on Jack like that and say he wants to kill him without any qualms. Everything about his behavior in this episode just seemed off, and he was only there for a few minutes and then he was gone, almost as if he was there just to plant the seeds in Dean and Sam’s heads that something drastic had to be done about Jack and lend validation to whatever horrible thing they came up with.

 With all the mentions of Chuck in the more recent episodes makes me feel pretty sure he will appear in the next one. I don’t want him to simply snap his fingers and fix everything, though I do want him to fix Jack’s soul, but I think he needs to sit Dean and Sam down and have a serious discussion with them about forgiveness and Good Parenting. I mean, who would know better than Chuck from experience about making rash decisions and expecting too much and all the other crap that Dean especially has pulled, as well as parental guilt.

#dean and sam are assholes #thank chuck for cas #contrast and compare #supernatural jack in the box #@metafest #@amwritingmeta #@emblue-sparks #@staycejo1 #@letswarriorfangirl #@angelneedshunter #@verobatto-angelxhunter #@magnificent-winged-beast

[hnrywinchester]

Fare Thee Well - - 18

Summary: She hasn’t seen Gabriel since he died nine years ago, then a phone call changes everything.

Pairing: Gabriel x OFC

Series Warnings: ANGST, smut, swearing, PTSD Gabriel, character deaths, canon compliant

Beta’d by: @aquietuniverse

Words: 6k

Here’s the Ao3 link because I don’t know what tumblr is doing with formatting now... it looks fine when I’m editing and all my page breaks are gone after. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16429499/chapters/38468501

When Gabriel and Liv reached the camp, Jack was still nowhere to be found. Neither was Lucifer. Gabriel’s jaw tightened as he scanned the area for them, his annoyance at Liv’s urging to the young, very impressionable Nephilim resurfacing. How could she have been so stupid? Did she not understand the implications of those two teaming up? He wanted to walk off and say not his circus, not his monkeys, but maybe this was somewhat his issue. She’d made it his issue. “Hey, did you find him?” Sam asked, Dean and Mary following close behind. “Uh, yeah,” Gabriel admitted, his face falling, “then we lost him again.” “Shocker…” Dean grumbled, rolling his eyes. The annoyance now was only growing at Dean’s reaction. He’d always treated Gabriel like a burden, a fuck up, like everything he did was wrong. He wanted to go home, to get away from his family, the Winchesters, this miserable, dying universe. It was wearing on him, every nerve fraying with each passing second. “So, new plan,” Dean barked, causing Gabriel’s nostrils to flare, “We have a few more people we’re bringing across. We’re gonna go get ‘em a little ways down the road at the main camp and then caravan back to the rift somehow.” “How many?” Liv chimed in. “We got about twenty five more.” “Wait.. what?” Gabriel snapped, pulling himself completely from Liv’s grasp, “Oh no. I didn’t sign up for this. It was get mom, get the kid, go home. That was it. Done deal.” “Mom won’t come without everyone else,” Sam confessed, his face falling. “Well that’s her issue then. We offered.” “We aren’t leaving without her,” Dean growled, his face hardening as he looked at the archangel. “I am. Bye.” “Gabe, wait,” Liv sounded, grabbing his bicep before he could take a step. “No! I’m going home. We are going home.” “I’m gonna help.” Always the martyr. Why was she always so incapable of leaving those three idiots to sweep up their own messes was beyond him. Didn’t she want to go home? They’d literally just spent the twenty minute walk back to the group fantasizing about what was to come in just a few short hours, now here she was offering up both of their lives, again. This shouldn’t matter to her, it never should have. “Liv, this isn’t our mess,” he pleaded, pulling gently on her grip, his voice filled with desperation. “We came here to help, and I’m seeing it through,” she committed, heavy with guilt. “You aren’t even supposed to be here.” “Well, I am now. And I’m staying ‘til it’s done. Are you staying with me?” Gabriel pursed his lips as he averted his gaze. She knew exactly how to play her chips, of course he wasn’t going to leave without her and she knew it. Was everything they’d been planning just a ruse? At this point, he wasn’t really sure they’d ever leave this life of hers, no matter how many times she said she wanted to. “Yeah,” he sighed, “don’t have a choice, now do I?” Rougher than he intended, he ripped his arm free of her grip and stalked off. There was another mess of hers needing his attention. Liv watched him as he left, his posture stiff, and she knew he was angry. Rightfully so, she knew she’d forced his hand, but the thought of leaving Castiel and the Winchesters in their hour of need again just wasn’t going to weigh on her conscience well. Neither was Gabriel being upset with her. This was an impossible situation —one she wasn’t going to win. “Cas, hey. Any update on Jack?” Sam asked, Liv’s heart jumping at the sight of her friend. “He’s back, “ Castiel replied, his voice less than thrilled. “Great. Where is he?” “He’s with Lucifer.” Castiel’s face turned desperate while Liv tried to mask the blame threatening to bloom across her features. “Gabriel is… keeping an eye,” Castiel continued, “Liv can I… can I talk to you?” “Sure, Cas,” she replied, nervous. Did he know? Did Gabriel tell him this was all her doing? That she’d encouraged Jack to talk to his father? She couldn’t bear the thought of Castiel being upset with her, especially not with Gabriel already less than thrilled. “I need your help,” he pressed, pulling her away from the group lightly by her arm, “Heaven is dying.” “And what exactly does that have to do with me?” she inquired, face twisting in confusion. “We need Gabriel.” Her heart fell into her stomach. This explained everything. He had to leave again. Just another disaster pulling them apart. “What do you mean you need Gabriel?” she snapped, harsher than she intended. “He’s the only one who can save it. We need an archangel,” Castiel divulged, “We need him to make more angels. There aren’t enough of us to keep heaven powered. Soon it will shut down, and all of its souls will be forced to Earth. Billions of them.” There was no argument outside of her own selfish desires that she could think of. Her gaze fell away from the trench-coated angel, dejected, tears brimming over. This explained everything. Why he was in such a rush to get home, to get time. He had none. Once they returned, it was back to separation and pain. Again, her naivety had won out, thinking they could have the life they so desperately wanted. Neither one of them would ever be free of what they truly were. Soldiers, pawns, pieces of a puzzle much larger than the both of them. “He won’t go,” Castiel blurted out, Liv’s heart skipping a beat as her eyes snapped back to him, “He won’t leave you.” The revelation caused her mouth to hang agape. The world was potentially in the balance, and he’d chosen her. Cas needed her to convince him to go, but what if she didn’t want him to? At what point did she say, fuck the world, I’m done? How much more could the universe possibly take from her? Just when she thought she’d given everything, it came knocking for something else. How were some given the world and others expected to sacrifice every glimmer of hope they’d ever been taunted with? “I won’t do it,” she fumed, not even needing Castiel to make his request, “I won’t convince him. We’ve given enough.” “I know you have,” he sympathized, “I wouldn’t ask, if there were any other way.” “I can’t, Cas. You understand, right? I can’t watch him walk away again. I can’t, I’m sorry.” “Liv… please. It wouldn’t be forever. He’s safe in heaven-“ “I said no.” The pair stood in awkward silence. Castiel knew he’d met another dead end, she wouldn’t budge. Neither would Gabriel. Liv needed to see him. She didn’t care that he was angry with her, even in his irritation he’d settle the war between what was right and wrong raging on in her head. She knew that he was needed, sending him would be what was right, but she needed him just as much. Her self-interest was wrong, but clearly he wanted this as much as she did. He didn’t want to leave, he didn’t want the responsibility. He wanted peace. Without another word, she walked off, hoping she was heading in the right direction. She had not a clue where Gabriel was spying on his brother and nephew, but she’d find him. Being alone with her thoughts was dangerous; things tended to skew and over-exaggerate when her emotions were so unchecked. Gabriel was angry with her, Castiel now too, Sam and Dean had thrown triple the amount of weight on everyone’s shoulders and now the guilt of keeping Gabriel both here in Apocaland and away from a dire task all swirled in her brain, and the basin was overflowing. She’d wandered off without even noticing where she was heading, but a familiar mess of dark blonde hair caught her eye, Gabriel. He didn’t notice her, his attention still focused on the two people twenty feet away, sitting shoulder to shoulder as they chatted. “What’re you doing?” Liv asked despite already knowing the answer, approaching him slowly. “Watching Jack,” he responded flatly, not even turning his attention to her. “Why?” “Making sure Lucifer doesn’t win him over.” “Seriously?” “That is a duo we do not want even considering pairing up. Obviously you don’t understand the severity of the situation.” “Are you still mad about that?” Why she was pressing each of his buttons, she wasn’t sure. It was almost as if she wanted him angry with her, that somehow coping with these added burdens was easier if he wanted nothing to do with her. Which of course was the opposite of the truth and what she wanted. “You have no idea what you could have potentially put into motion,” he scolded, his soft tone poking at the anxiety-induced bear waking in her head. “Well it was true,” she spat, one half of her head chastising the other for allowing the words to come out in that tone. “Not really!” “Yes really! You were the trickster, half the hunters on the damn globe were looking for you. And I was fucking you!” “That’s different.” “How so?” “Because one, I’m not really the trickster. Two, the trickster and Satan, not even on the same level. And three, you’re a human. We can’t team up and level the world with a mere thought.” “We could make a Nephilim who could though.” “Irrelevant. I would never let that happen. My swimmers are locked deep, deep down never to see the light of day. Shooting blanks for eons over here, thank you very much.” She was losing this argument and she knew it. A normal person would have given in, apologized and went on with their day, but not her. She considered for a moment if he’d been anticipating this, it wasn’t his first rodeo with her and her skewed mindset, but he was also in his own mental turmoil. This was just a catalyst waiting to go off. “I believe in him,” Liv assured, crossing her arms over her chest. “Jack? Or Lucifer? It’s hard to tell at this point,” he criticized, finally turning his head to look at her. “Don’t be stupid.” “No. You don’t believe in him. You believe in the Winchester’s and Castiel’s influence on him. You think since they ‘raised’ him for a few months he’s gonna be some goody-two-shoes who does no wrong.” “Maybe so. Doesn’t change anything. I’d still tell him the same thing. “Yeah, well you better be right.” “What’s your problem?” “My problem?” His problem was being here. Her making him stay, forcing him by using her own safety and wellbeing as ransom. This place gave him the creeps, it wasn’t right. The sinking feeling in his chest grew deeper by the hour. Every minute left in this wasteland was one minute closer to a disaster he couldn’t foresee, but he knew was coming. “I don’t want to be here, Liv!” he fumed, “I want to go home. I’m so <i>over</i> putting my ass on the line for things that have little to no effect on me. We could walk back to that rift right now and go home. But no, you call the shots.” “You’re free to go,” she seethed. “Don’t. Don’t play these games with me right now. And stop acting like you want me to leave, or I will.” Her tongue caught in her mouth as tears fought to push through. Her eyes finally fell, it was time to accept defeat. “You’re the one who said you wanted out, but here you are dragging yourself, and me, back into every possible shitshow that offers itself up,” he continued, “You don’t wanna stop? Fine! I’ll drive around the country with you hunting every vampire and ghoul we can find ‘til you’re seventy! I don’t care. I just want to do it in our world.” “I do want out,” she maintained, voice meek and wary. “Then what’s the hold up?” “They’re my friends.” “Oh... sweetheart. They really aren’t. I’ll give you Cas, but Sam and Dean? No. They don’t give a shit about you or me.” “Cas told me about heaven.” “Did he now.” “Why won’t you go?” “Because you are my priority! You are! Not heaven, not the Winchesters, not even myself for fucks sake! Clearly, that’s a one way road though. Because here we are.” That did her in. Her bottom lip began to quiver as his words and gaze threw his unspoken blame at her. She felt small and insignificant under his scrutiny, but her decision remained the same. “I gave them my word,” she muttered, keeping her eyes on him although every instinct was screaming to look away. “So what?!” he yelled, “This isn’t about chivalry and bullshit egos! People are dying, Liv!” His raspy scream startled her. It was desperate and impatient, it was the sound of a man running out of options. He turned his back to her again, biting at his bottom lip to hold back his tongue. He wanted to scream again, try and scare some sense into her, but he knew it was useless. This was dangerous. They could die, or get stuck here. Lucifer’s word wasn’t worth a damn, he didn’t care if his brother had claimed the door would stay open for however many hours, he wasn’t buying it. “I’m sorry,” she lamented from behind him, and he could hear the difficulty of her decision in her voice, “I’m not… I’m not choosing them over you, over us. If that’s what you think…” “That’s what it feels like,” he admitted, dejected and broken. Unable to be in this conversation with a level head, Gabriel walked off. He could hear her sigh in frustration, well aware of the strain he was putting on her, but at the moment unable to fight past his own betrayed feelings to care. Expecting her to call out to him, her silence only stoked the fire. So she was just going to let him leave. Good to know. Between defending his brother, choosing to stay in this hellhole instead of going to start their lives together and now, getting nothing but a groan of irritation as he left, Gabriel was furious. He walked until silence overcame him, alone with his thoughts and anger, which was battle in and of itself. Liv dragged herself slowly back to the camp. There was no winning in this impossible situation. One way or the other, someone was going to end up angry with her. If she left, the Winchesters and Cas would be on the receiving end of her abandonment once again. If she stayed, Gabriel was going to be upset for being forced to stay with her. She understood his reasoning, but it didn’t change the fact that she had a responsibility to be here and help. “It’s time to go, where’s Gabe?” Dean barked as soon as she was within earshot. “I don’t know,” she mumbled, shaking her head. “What do you mean you don’t know? Aren’t you two attached at the hip? Literally…” “He walked off.” “Well get his ass back here.” Now she was regretting this decision. Home sounded like a substantially better option than being ordered around by Dean fucking Winchester. She trudged off to the opposite side of the decaying building she’d walked through with Lucifer only hours before, hoping that Gabriel would listen so they could get this over with. “Gabe, it’s time to go,” she sighed, not ready to face him, but he never came, “Gabriel?” “What’re you doing over here by yourself?” his voice rang out from behind her as he rounded the corner. “Calling for you.” “Oh… uh, angel radio is a little wonky. I can’t hear you. I found the group, Dean said it’s time to go.” Yeah, she was aware. He kept his distance, his hands in his pockets with his lips tucked up into each other. He looked better, normal, not so furious. She kept her eyes on him until his lifted to lock with hers, her gaze quickly averting in a poor attempt to prevent him from seeing her staring at him. “I love you, you know,” he called out, smirking, “even if you are a stubborn pain in the ass.” That wasn’t what she was expecting. Her heart jumped into her throat at his words, but she kept her eyes on the ground. “I realized that… I’m getting mad at the things I love about you,” he continued, chuckling lightly, “You’re hard headed. You keep your promises. You don’t give up on people, even when they deserve it. You’re everything I’m not. I’m with you, sweetheart, even though I don’t agree with it. I’m gonna fight your fight. But you gotta tell me why. Why does this matter so much?” “I have a lot of guilt, Gabe,” she confessed, and he nodded, he knew the feeling, “I left them, after you disappeared. I can’t do it again. Not now.”

“Okay.”

With her eyes locked on the ground, she didn’t see him approach, but when his arms slid around her waist she sighed in relief. She wrapped her arms around his, hugging him as she pressed her head into his shoulder. Resting his chin on the top of her head, he held her in a silent embrace. “Thank you,” she murmured against him, breathing deeply as a little relief washed over her. “Mhmm,” he hummed, and she knew he was still very apprehensive about the entire arrangement, “don’t make me regret it.” “Once we’re home, I’m all yours. Promise.” “I’ll hold you to that.” Shifting her head slightly, she leaned up to press a kiss to his throat. If she was committing herself to anyone for the rest of her life, she was thankful it was him. He tried. He always had. He took all of her blows with finesse and a patience she was almost certain was beyond a human’s capabilities. He didn’t move, waiting for her to pull away first was always how it worked, especially when she was upset. His stubble pressed into her forehead as she stayed nuzzled into his neck, for a moment they weren’t in an alternate universe with yet another insurmountable obstacle before them, they were just together. Knowing he was on her side made the mountain just a little less steep, but the she knew the hardest parts were still yet to come. “Come on, hop on,” he urged as she began to pull away, turning his back, “I like you all pressed up against me. Keeps me in the perfect state of hot and bothered.” “I think you’re supposed to be focusing,” she chided with a smirk, running her hands up his back and around the tops of his shoulders, “not getting hot and bothered” “I’m an exceptional multitasker.” Laughing, she jumped up onto his back, his arms linking under her knees as hers wrapped around his neck. She couldn’t deny she was happy to be hitching a ride for a little while, her trek through the forests with Lucifer had left her weary, and being curled up around him kept the bite of the cold at bay. Plus, the gentle brush of his hair against her cheek and sway of his bow legged walk calmed the storm raging in her mind. He was effortless, he was easy, and he reminded her that life wasn’t always a battle, sometimes it was okay to roll with the punches. As the group traveled down the paths leading to the base camp, Liv felt herself dozing off, her head lolling down onto Gabriel’s. Every time she did, she felt his grip against her thighs tighten, readying himself to support her should she fall limp and asleep. “You can sleep if you want,” he whispered, turning his cheek into her nose, “I got ya.” “Hmmm,” she whined against him, pecking her lips lightly to his cheekbone, “tempting.” “Someone needs to go ahead and scout!” Dean called from the front of the caravan, “Gabe? Cas?” “Or not,” Gabriel groaned, rolling his eyes. Gently, he placed her back on her feet, keeping a hand on her waist until she was steady. His eyes were intent on her, eyebrows furrowed in concern as she shook the half-asleep haze from her head. She linked her fingers with his against her hip, taking a deep breath in as she nodded, the cloud slowly dissipating. “I’ll be right back,” he bade, kissing her temple, “stay with… Sam and Dean, I guess.” The disdain in his voice made her laugh, his pursed lips and skeptical eyes only adding to the effect. He kissed her quickly, tapping her bottom once before walking off, a goodbye wasn’t necessary. He’d be right back. She watched him walk away, shoulder to shoulder with Cas, his blade at the ready. Her attention then turned to Jack and Lucifer as the group began following the angels down the path. Jack was still intently listening, and she could see the Winchesters growing more and more paranoid as the boy bonded with his father. As Gabriel and Cas walked on, he could feel the awkward silence that had settled between them. Castiel was no doubt still upset that Gabriel was refusing to help with heaven’s impotence, and Gabriel was a little peeved that he’d thought to get Liv involved. “Why’d you tell her?” Gabriel asked, keeping his tone level. “I was hoping she would talk some sense into you,” Castiel snapped back, side-eyeing his brother. “Leave her out of it.” “It’s her world that’s being threatened to go up in flames. A world she’s spent years trying to protect.” “Consider us retired.” “Is that you speaking, or her?” Gabriel swung around, pointing the tip of his blade into Castiel’s chest to stop him in his tracks, “Don’t you dare for one second think I force her into anything. Ever.” Castiel’s eyes softened, he knew that Gabriel had never been coercive towards her, if anything it was the other way around. He nodded, Gabriel pulling his blade away from him as he did. “You head back, I’m just gonna check around this corner,” Gabriel instructed, nodding his head to the heavily thicketed clearing to the left. Expecting to find nothing, Gabriel turned and wandered off around the corner. As he walked, he fantasized about what life would be in less than a day. Sunsets, margaritas and lazy mornings for the rest of their lives. He could practically smell the ocean breeze and see her perfect thighs peaking out from some skimpy summer dress he’d pick out and pray to his father she’d wear. She would, she wouldn’t admit it, but she liked them. A twig snapping turned his attention to the right, blade squaring up as he readied to fight, but the sight instead caused him to wrinkle his face in confusion. Six crows sat pecking at the ground, which was bizarre because he had yet to see one living creature besides the few surviving humans since he’d arrived. He sat and watched in awed reverence as they remained seemingly unaware of his presence only a few feet away, clearly very desensitized, as most were in this wasteland. He ignored the dread pouring into his thoughts, brushing it off as the effect of this world. When a louder snap echoed through the clearing, he didn’t even wait to see what it was. He could sense it. Them. “Shit!” he hissed under his breath, taking off in a run back to the unsuspecting group walking down the middle of the road. His legs couldn’t carry him fast enough, his chest aching as the cold air filled his lungs, branches whipping him as he scrambled through the bushes and brush. He had to beat them there, if he didn’t the entire group would surely be turned to dust, literally. “Angels!” Gabriel screamed as he turned the bend back onto the main pass, his eyes falling to the unscathed group as he went. Liv’s eyes jumped up, seeing Gabriel frantically running towards her, her heart beginning to pound as the group began to panic. She raised the gun she was holding onto her shoulder, aiming at the open space before them. When Gabriel reached the group, he immediately placed himself in front of her, holding one arm out to keep him behind her as his other raised his blade in front of him. “You know I can’t shoot with you in front of me,” she chided, scooting to the side to give herself a clear shot. He glared at her from over his shoulder before both of their attentions turned to the small unit of men dressed in tactical gear advancing. When their eyes fell to Liv, Gabriel swore their faces ticked in confusion. “Hey! Right there!” the leader called out, the two groups pausing for a stare down, “Kill them, on my command.” Gabriel’s heart dropped, as he planned to grab Liv and fly them off before any harm could come to her, the entire group of their enemies disintegrated to dust. Gabriel and Liv shared a confused glance, she looked to him as if he had done it, and he responded with a short shake of his head and a shrug. Their eyes then traveled to Lucifer, who stood smiling smugly, his hand still raised in a snap position. Gabriel’s eyes rolled as Liv groaned, lowering her gun back down to her hip. “Oh yeah, about the cuffs,” Lucifer drawled, “I knew they wouldn’t hold me in this world. Long story short, I didn’t want your impotence to get awkward, so I just went along. You’re welcome. Welcome. Right? Don’t… thank me at once. See. Team player.” As Lucifer nudged Jack with his elbow, Liv’s head fell to Gabriel’s shoulder as she groaned in annoyance. His arm slung over her shoulder as he pulled her away, not wanting to get into it with his brother. Of course he was playing along with games just to reduce Gabriel farther than he already was. Liv could sense his change in demeanor, she saw his shoulders slump forward and his head turn away ashamed. She hated that having his family around brought out these feelings in him, feelings of worthlessness and weakness. He was neither of those things. He’d been the one strong enough to rebel, to love his father’s creation, to fight for them. To die for them. “I love you,” she whispered into his ear, pulling his head down gently to press a kiss to his cheek. Of course she did. She was the lover of broken things. When she touched him, it was akin to when she ran her fingers over the cracked glass of a photo frame, jagged, and one wrong twitch away from scarring. Her fingers moved to the curls behind his ears, mindlessly weaving them between her fingers like the petals of a strewn rose. The haven of the forgotten. He’d never been worth a damn to anyone else until her. He’d give his life to repay that debt. “I don’t know why,” he croaked, her face falling from his response. Before she could find a moment to pull him aside, they were back on their way to main base. They moved in silence, Liv not wanting to have any form of heartfelt conversation with Lucifer within earshot, knowing it would be nothing but cannon fodder at some point. She felt blame, he wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for her, feeling this pain, reliving his traumatic family years. The longer they stayed, the more she regretted ever making this choice; for someone who was supposed to protect him she’d done a shitty job of it… their entire relationship. The Singer Salvage sign came into view, welcoming them to another safe zone. Gabriel immediately tore off to the side, heading towards a graveyard of abandoned vehicles, and Liv followed, despite wondering if Singer Salvage belonged to… Bobby Singer. It had to. She found Gabriel tossing stones against the rusted, metal, each ping a little harder than the last. “Gabe? Hey,” she soothed, taking a seat in the back of an old van beside him, “will you talk to me?” “About?” he grunted, keeping his focus on his mind numbing task. “Anything. I just want to hear you talk.” “What happened, Liv? How did you get here?” “Turns out, Lucifer gets a little juice from being angry. Broke the bonds, attacked Rowena. She got him off of her, but kinda caught me in the crosswinds and I shot over with him. He kept me around for leverage if Jack was being held somewhere, me for him. With you.” “Smart play.” All along, she’d known that he would have taken that deal, but hearing him admit it out loud was different. She’d have taken any deal to save him, too; she’d have sold her soul to get him out of hell had she known he was there. “Can we go back to that cabana? In Belize?” she inquired, lightening her tone. “Sure. If that’s where you wanna go,” he answered, voice still flat and emotionless. “How can I help, baby?” Finally, he turned to look at her and he could tell his suffering was waning on her. He could hear Lucifer jabbering on behind them, Jack still in tow, leaving him no opportunity to ease her mind. None of this was her fault, not really, and he wanted to relieve the guilt that he knew she was feeling. “So… thing about Gabe- class clown,” Lucifer introduced, causing Gabriel to clench his jaw as he turned to face them. “And you’re an ass clown,” he fumed, Liv’s gaze hard on the setting as it unfolded. “Ha! You hear that? He’s such a cut-up. I mean, I cant… Yeah, uh, I guess your time with Asmodeus didn’t do you any favors, did it, bud?” It took all of her self control not to lunge at that snarky asshole. Her anger was boiling her blood, this was the last thing Gabriel needed to be reminded of, and here he was jesting about it like it was all a joke. “Yeah, well my time with you was worse. You recall-“ Gabriel continued on, hoping to show Jack the true nature of his father. “I recall, uh, nothing. I don’t recall anything at all. Happy endings. All good, happy endings. Uh, meet Gabriel, your uncle. And that over there, that’s Liv. She’s uh… what exactly are you two? Is she...Auntie Liv? Is that what we’re goin’ with?” Gabriel shot his brother a warning glare before turning away. There was only so much he could take. He began to walk off, needing a second to clear his head yet again and when he heard footsteps behind him he was furious to find they didn’t belong to Liv.

She watched as Gabriel stalked off, Jack and Lucifer in tow, and she debated following behind or catching up with him once his brother had slunk off to his next ruse. When Gabriel’s voice began to raise she shot to her feet, ready to run to him, but waiting for the right moment. She wanted him to say his piece, to get the words out she knew he needed to say, or scream. Lucifer deserved the rage and Gabriel deserved his freedom. Her breaking point was met when Gabriel began to walk away again, his head shaking. “Leave him alone,” she spat as she passed, walking briskly to try and catch up with Gabriel a good few feet in front of her. “Aw Gabe, that’s cute! Need your girlfriend to fight your battles for you? See, not much has changed,” Lucifer jeered, causing her to stop dead in her tracks. Maybe her brain wasn’t working right, maybe it was the exhaustion or the hunger, but something in her made her turn back around, approach the devil, and punch him square in the jaw. Jack looked on, shocked, and Liv kept her gaze hard and unwavering as Lucifer recovered from her unexpected aggression. “Fuck you,” she hissed, her teeth clenched, fist ready to throw another one right into his nose. “Ah, no thanks. I’m not a fan of sloppy seconds,” Lucifer taunted, wrinkling his nose in disgust. She laughed through her nose, nodding as she tried to suppress the ire bubbling in her chest. Gabriel watched on from a distance, a sense of pride ticking his mouth into a smile as he watched her fist colliding with his brother’s face. He wasn’t overly concerned, at least for the moment, with Jack around he wouldn’t do anything detrimental. He was trying to be the goody-two-shoes he’s never been. Thankfully, he seemed to be failing. Jack’s face was skeptical as he listened to his father. Maybe Liv was right, there was a reason to have faith in this kid. “He’s not worth it!” Gabriel called, hoping to reel her back in and over to him; he wanted to kiss her. Of course he was worth it. Okay, maybe he wasn’t worth it, but punching him in the face was worth it. Stabbing him with the angel blade she wished she had would have been worth it. The look on Jack’s face was worth it as he saw through his father’s bullshit act. The thought of him snapping her out of existence didn’t even cross her mind as she stood in front of him. He was the devil, the biggest baddie there was, and she stood before him without fear. It took a lot of willpower to turn away and meet Gabriel down the path, but she did, her concern for him outweighing her own selfish wants to pummel Lucifer’s face into the ground. As soon as she was within arm’s reach, Gabriel looped his arm around her waist and pulled her into him, kissing her hard, free hand winding into her hair as he kissed his praises. Her muffled cry of surprise was music to his ears as her arms lazily wrapped around his neck. She melted into him, surrendering her anger for pure adoration for the man in her arms. “I didn’t think I could love you anymore, honestly,” he panted, “but watching you punch that arrogant S.O.B right in his jaw, dad as my witness, I’d write a hymn commemorating your triumphs.” “You’re an idiot” she jested, ruffling the hair on his head, happy to see him in higher spirits, even if it was only for a moment, “Come on, let’s find everyone else. Get the plan, go home, right?” “Yeah.” Slinging his arm around her shoulders, they walked into the main center of the large encampment, their hearts sinking as they took in the living arrangements of these poor people. Gabriel no longer felt angry being here to help them, they clearly needed it. If it took a few hours out of their lives to get these people somewhere safe, maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. They spotted the Winchester clan a few yards away, and the person with them caused Liv to tilt her head in confusion. There was no way… “Liv?” the gruff, old man called out as they locked eyes, his eyes widening as if he’d seen a ghost, “I can’t…” “Bobby?” she whispered, loud enough for only Gabriel to hear, the angel passing a confused look between the two. Bobby immediately ran from his spot, pulling her into a massive bear hug, her shock pulling a gasp from her lips. Gabriel debated his next move, should he wrestle her free? Let this play out? She didn’t seem in distress… “And you, too,” Bobby turned and cried, pulling the angel into his arms. “Uh… what?” Gabriel asked, holding his arms awkwardly to his sides. Clearly, they were all missing something.

TAGS: @idabbleincrazy @analisespn @nodistressdamsel @morganas-pendragons

#gabriel x ofc #gabriel x oc #gabriel #gabriel fic #spn

[jordm]

Heartland 12x10 - All Hearts Lead Home review

So, long story short; I went on vacation and came back Sunday night and completely forgot Heartland was on, until I saw Soile’s review on IG. Then proceeded to completely spoil myself on the totally (unsurprising) main plot points, so go me. Anyways, i’ll append a few photos from my trip under the cut.

I have also not seen Hudson yet and do plan on doing so probably once S12 concludes. If anyone is interested in a review let me know, otherwise I shall just sit back and watch (and perhaps anyways, still make a short post).

Anyways, to tonights action! (where Lyndy is holding a stuffed animal proportional to her height) and says hi a thousand times to anyone entering the room.

Jack

Jack is getting his fishing hooks ready for his fishing trip next week which can only mean heartbreak is on it’s way. Because then Doreen shows up, unexpectedly and while Jack is initially enthused, he quickly realized this visit was not pleasure. She was here to deliver the bad news that their dear friend Will passed away and Jack is devastated. Everyone is devastated as they all - in one way or another and in particular Jack and Ty/Amy had a particular connection with him. At least Doreen will always have that song Will wrote for her?

Anyways, Jack holds up to his promise and goes to the cabin - alone, despite Amy and Tim’s insistence that he not spend too much time there alone, even if it may be best. And yet again, I ask; 

Where the heck is Lisa in all of this?! Did NO ONE tell Lisa before she came home about Will/Jack? DOES LISA KNOW ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED AT FAIRFIELD OR NAH?

Of course, Jack saves a bird from the enclosure, then slips and hallucinates Will (I was wondering how he ended up with his haggard appearance from the stills and I guess I have my answer); and almost dies?? Because he sees his body slipped on the rocks.

So, Jack really did almost die (I guess?) and the out of body experience was um a little um, weird?! I’m not exactly sure what to think if i’m being honest. I guess it gave him closure and some nice reminiscing about the past; saving the herd and all at Pike River, but did he really have to almost die for this to happen? (I mean I guess he did because that’s how it works). Lisa is there for him in the end, and the reunion was very very understated - frankly I wanted more after her long absence and I can only hope she never goes away for that long again.

Tim

Tim may be annoying AF but way to speak for the audience (and really not so deep down really care about Jack). When Jack refuses company to the cabin, Tim listens to his wishes, instead of inserting himself where he isn’t wanted (which he usually does). 

He even stands up for Jack and says the things Jack would never say to Lisa - about how he’s missing her and how much he needs her. He’s pure concern when he sees Jack’s had floating down the river (good one Heartland), plus he’s basically the voice of the audience.

“You’re back - finally.”

“He’s been alone for quite awhile now Lisa.”

“You’ve been away for months Lisa. Jack hasn’t been the same since you left; I can’t count the number of times he tried to call you. So, I guess at the end of the day you have to ask yourself what’s more important - your aunt or your husband?”

“Jack needed you too.”

Speaking of Lisa - could she not come back for a week or so to visit in between the few months she was gone? Did she have to spend all the months away and was she really unable to visit at all (even for a few days?).

There’s a nice moment at the end of the episode with Jack conceding to let Tim park his trailer in the driveway and Tim admitting he needs to get his life together - he had his second chance (presumably with Casey) and blew it. And yet again, reminds me that we will never know the full story with this situation and for that I am bitterly disappointed. Hey Tim? It’s never too late - look at Will!

Georgie

So, apparently Georgie has a ticket to Europe if she wants to take it - or rather if she should take it. No one is in doubt that it’d be a great opportunity but is it really what’s best for her? Amy is trying to teach Georgie how to do her free horsing thing (totally forgot the name and too lazy to look it up) when Georgie is supposed to be taking time off and while Amy makes it look easy, Georgie is quick to point out that it is easier said than done (as is most). It does prove to be calming and zen, which is exactly what Georgie needs, in addition to her family supporting her. 

In fact, Georgie may even be finding her love of riding/horses again - for herself, not for anybody else and i’m here for that. 

Amy and Ty

Amy reminisces that if it wasn’t for Pike River that they would have never gotten back together - and while i’m not sure it’s entirely true (they would have found another way), it is very bittersweet reminiscing about past seasons.

Luke is scheduled to come and Amy and Ty don’t want to cancel despite the recent news. This means another Clint appearance (who has officially made more appearances than Lisa this season?) and another opportunity for Clint to see how happier Luke has become since he met Ty and how his bond with Boots has grown. Heck how his bond with Amy has grown - he even shows concern for her when he notices Amy being sad. He even helps Luke with his STEM project and provides some solid advice to Luke about showing emotion - and I think I’m finally coming around to mentor Ty.

It turns out that Luke is sad because Amy being said reminds him about his mother being sad most of the time. Anyways, eventually they get the Toy Car working, he bonds & he says hi to Lyndy (aka the word she says a thousand times this episode) and then the end when Clint lets Amy/Ty know that he’s looking at foster for Luke (mom’s choice, not Amy/Ty’s request thank god).

I’m all for it, and I think that they would make good foster parents, but here’s the thing. i don’t think their 100% ready, and even if they are, they don’t know how Luke is going to react if he knows his mom is willingly giving up custody. Sure he may be great now but things can change in an instant if the situation changes, which it has, plus if he does move in, that means they need to move right? Currently it’s only a one bedroom (although i’m not sure where he stays now). Then again, this probably is the best option for Luke if it has to be done. Is it the best option for Amy and Ty? We have yet to see.

Lou

Georgie doesn’t think Lou is over Mitch - and I agree. FTR, I don’t think Mitch is completely over Lou either, which really shouldn’t be the case since he’s engaged. 

What I will say about the wedding is, their request for a donation is all Maya. I can’t believe that this is really Mitch’s favourite charity - like at all  - also Changing the World with Crystals makes me think of drugs... and I think said Charity needs a new name.

“Please make a thoughtful donation to our favourite charity, Changing the World with Crystals.” - Mitch and Maya’s wedding registry. 

Anyways, Maya is way too nice for this world and comes by to ask for her plus one to the wedding. I almost feel kind of bad for her... except I’m reminded that I don’t even know her - or will ever get to know her. She will fall into the “character for a plot point” abyss just like Casey, Cassandra and Lisa. And that’s unfortunate. 

“But I want you. *pause* at the wedding.” - Mitch

Yeah Mitch, that’s real convincing. 

My opinion? Lou shouldn’t go. Don’t go to your ex’s wedding, especially if you have feelings for said person - unresolved feelings and he may too. Frankly, i’m not even sure why Mitch wants Lou there, especially if he isn’t over Lou completely. It’s only going to complicate feelings and end in both of them being a little more star-crossed (by choice though) lovers; while sometimes space is the one thing one can do to get over someone.

Let your family represent you at the wedding - take a girls trip with your daughters that weekend somewhere and relax, now that’s what you should do. Maybe here? (where I went-  not stock photos ;))

Songs in this Episode @heartandians 

Second Chances - Shaun Johnston

#heartland #review #all hearts lead home

[xsparklingravenx]

Shadow Mine 5

Title: Shadow Mine

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human

Characters: Hank, Connor, Fowler, Sumo

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,263

Summary: It's a dead end. With no leads to go on, Hank and Connor find themselves lost in their investigation, nothing left to do but return home. Instead, Hank tries to get through to his partner and help him through the intricacies of personhood. It's a long road ahead of them, and is this only the calm before the storm...?

AO3

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10

Hank was starting to wonder if this day was ever going to actually end.

It was late, the sun having set by now. Jeffery Fowler sat in front of him, looking down at his tablet with narrow eyes, his mouth a thin line. Hank’s report was on there; paperwork was no longer done on actual paper anymore, but that was how it was now. When Hank had been young, everyone always said that everything would be electronic in the future. Sometimes, he forgot that he was living in that future. Even his own partner was wire and plastic instead of flesh and bone.

“So the long and short of it is,” Fowler said after he’d spent a good five minutes going through Hank’s work, “we’ve got sweet fuck all.”

“Pretty much.” Hank replied. His shoulder was aching something awful. Was it time for his pills yet? Had to be. “I mean, we could’ve had something, but you thought it’d be a good idea to put that fire cracking piece of shit Gavin on the case too. I thought you wanted ‘the best’, not, ‘the bottom of the fucking barrel’.”

“Reed’s a good detective,” Fowler said, but Hank could practically hear ‘when he wants to be’ hanging in the air after the statement. “This isn’t a game, Lieutenant. You know how this is going to look if we can’t solve it? We’ve got a good man dead and an android gone too. Everyone’s on high alert.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Hank said, barely biting back his anger. “Shit, Jeffrey, we’ve got no damn motive. All we know is her model number and vaguely what she looks like, but there could be a hundred other androids out there that are her spitting image. Dammit it, this is gonna do more harm to them all as a whole, public ain’t gonna take lightly to this.”

Hank didn’t know much about Markus other than what he’d seen on TV and what Connor had told him, but he had to admire the dedication that he’d put into the immense task of fighting for his people’s rights. An incident like this was only going to be one big ugly mark on everything his revolution had stood for, was only going to damage the message Markus had been sending. Fowler leant forward on his desk, chin on his linked hands, and sighed. “The analysis on the bullets found in both Glennister and Zack is still in progress, so we’re hoping there’ll be a match on the gun to help us find the suspect. In the meantime, we’ve got jack shit to go on. Go home, Hank. There’s nothing else we can do right now.”

Hank scoffed. “No way. This ain’t over, Jeffrey, there’s gotta be something—”

“If there was, I’d be working your ass off on it. You’re still injured, Hank, you shouldn’t even be here. Get the hell out of my office and go home. I’ll call if anything comes up.”

Hank genuinely wanted to fight him on it. Logically, he knew he was right, knew that there really wasn’t anything to be done, but damn if it didn’t still piss him off. How could one android manage to kill not one, but two members of the DPD and still manage to evade them?

It was easy to blame Gavin, but Hank knew that the AX400 would have probably escaped even if the detective hadn’t nearly gotten himself killed by running out into traffic. Emotions had been high, and because of it Decker hadn’t noticed that the AX400 had never left the scene. There’d been no warning that she’d been there. Hank had assumed that forensics would have scoped the area out before actually starting any kind of investigation. None of them had been ready for a chase.

He left the office and found Connor at his desk opposite Hank’s, flipping his coin up and down. Hank had asked him why he did the tricks once, and Connor had given him some longwinded explanation about recalibration alongside other android jargon that Hank didn’t understand. It was bullshit anyway. He thought that Connor did it because he enjoyed the rhythmic action of it, an act of deviance long before he’d officially broken out of his programming.

A cup of coffee was on Hank’s own desk, still steaming, freshly made. Hank grabbed it by the handle and took a careful swig. It was black, perfectly to his liking. It burned a soothing path down his throat. “You made this?” he asked.

Connor wasn’t listening to him. His eyes were focused on the coin, watching it as he went up and down. “I don’t understand.” he said. “First a human, now an android. It makes no sense. Why would the type of target change? Has the MO changed?”

Clink. Clink. The coin hit his fingers and he threw it in the air again. Again. “She was angry, I think.” Clink. “But also, she held so little regard for her own life. When she ran into the road, I don’t think she was attempting to get Gavin to follow her.” Clink. “No. She was just trying to escape and she didn’t care if she died trying.”

Hank didn’t speak, just kept his mouth shut for once. Connor’s eyes stayed on the coin the entire time, tracking it up and down. “If she doesn’t care for her own life, that suggests she has little to live for. But why take the lives of law enforcement? Why attack and kill her own people? I can’t understand it. I feel like I’m…”

“Hitting a wall?” Hank suggested, putting the coffee mug down in front of Connor. “Yeah, I get that. I’m feeling the same way.”

The thunk of the coffee mug diverted his attention away from his coin. He looked at the steaming mug, and then closed his eyes, leaning back in the chair. When he said nothing, Hank decided to pursue a different line of questioning. “You made the coffee for me?”

“I thought it was better than you returning home to a bottle of alcohol.” Connor said, keeping his eyes closed. “I checked it myself before serving to make sure it matched the coffee you usually make for yourself at home.”

Hank suddenly regretted drinking it. “You put your goddamn fingers in my coffee for a taste-test?”

“No.” Connor’s lips quirked upwards slightly. “But I would be lying if I said I hadn’t considered doing so, and we both know you can apparently tell when I’m not being entirely truthful.”

Well, that was a relief. Hank took another swig, and then sat in his chair. “So tell me Connor,” he said. “What the hell possessed you to run out into that fucking road today?”

Connor’s eyes flicked open again. He was leant so far back in his chair now that he was practically reclining. Staring up at the ceiling, he folded his arms across his chest. “My chance of catching the suspect was far lower than successfully rescuing Gavin, so I chose the option with the better prospects.”

“Okay, great. Glad to hear what your programming thinks.” Hank said. “Now let’s hear what you were really thinking.”

Connor blinked several times in succession. Hank couldn’t see his LED from this angle, which made it more difficult to gauge just how stressful Connor found the question. He rarely showed his emotions on his face. “I was thinking that I would regret it if I let Gavin die there when I knew I could save him. I didn’t want to feel that way. But I…” Connor frowned. “I was scared.”

Hank raised his eyebrows, but waited. It was human nature to want to fill silence with chatter. If he left it long enough, he hoped that the deviant in Connor would respond to that want, and lo and behold, he did. “I realised that by saving Gavin, I would be putting myself in a great deal of danger. When I ran into the road, I kept thinking, will this be the last thing I do? Will these cars be the last thing I hear? See? I’ve died before, but I didn’t really understand it then like I do now. My predecessor—the Connor that died in Stratford Tower—was he scared too?”

Hank remembered Connor throwing himself in the way of that gunfire, the way Hank had thought he might have survived only to pull his body up off the ground and find him riddled through with bullets. Though he knew Connor used to be able to back himself up infinitely, he’d never thought of the separate Connor’s as different beings, not like how Connor differentiated them now.

But was it so unlikely that the Connor sat before him was not the same one he’d met in the bar? The one that had held Hank hostage had been entirely different to his Connor despite sharing the exact same memories. What a chilling thought. He wasn’t drunk enough for this kind of chat.

“Fear’s a good thing, son.” Hank said, realising that Connor was not looking for an answer to his question. He’d dealt with him for long enough now to recognize the cues that Connor gave off, how to respond to him in a way that Connor would respond back to. Right now, he was unsure in a way only an android could be, still dealing with emotions that were new and complex. “Fear’s what keeps us alive. You were scared because you thought you might die, and that’s normal, Connor. The fact that you ran out into that road to save someone else even though you were scared? That was bravery. Fucking stupid and I could have killed you for it, but credit where credit’s due.”

Connor sat back up in the chair, leaning forward, his hands on his knees. “I think I needed to hear that.” he said softly. Mission accomplished, Hank thought. “What did the Captain tell you?”

“That we’ve got nothing and we should go home.” Hank sighed. “We’re still waiting on results and shit to come back, so I guess he’s probably right. You ready to head on back?”

Connor cast a longing gaze at the terminal on his desk. “No.” Hank said. “I know what you’re thinking, and you’re not staying here to work yourself half to death over information we don’t have. We are going home to get some food and rest.” he paused. “Well, I’m going to bed. You’re going to do whatever it is you androids do when you’re tired.”

“I don’t get tired.” Connor said. “It’s impossible—”

“Connor,” Hank said, standing up. “Don’t fight me on this. We’re going.”

Connor looked like he wanted to argue the point, but he relented. “I’m driving?”

“Yeah, you’re driving. I don’t see me behind the wheel anytime soon.”

--

Sumo was waiting for them when they got back, ready to jump Connor as soon as they got through the door. Hank left them to their reunion and refilled his bowl for him before heading back to his room to change. Getting dressed one-armed was an absolute bitch. He couldn’t wait for it to heal.

When he went back to the kitchen, Connor had left out his pills for him. He was in the living room now, talking gently over the phone with someone. Hank caught wind of the words pepperoni and sausage and couldn’t help but laugh. If someone had told him this time last year that he’d have an android in his house ordering him pizza, Hank would have told them to put the bottle down and move on.

Hank downed the pills and leant on the doorframe. “What’s this?” he said. “You sure you didn’t hit your head when that AX400 shoved you over?”

Connor, who had taken up residency on his claimed side of the sofa, shook his head. “I ran a diagnostic after we returned to the office. I’m fully functional.”

Hank wasn’t sure if that was a joke or not. Connor often intentionally made it difficult to tell. “You say that, but here you are, ordering pizza. I was just going to chuck something in the microwave and then head to bed, you know. It ain’t like the pizza’s more healthy than whatever I could have made in five minutes.”

A beat. Connor looked rather sheepish. “I just thought it would be easier. If it isn’t to your liking, I can always cancel—”

“No, no, don’t do that.” Hank cut in quickly. “I was just saying, I thought it was weird. Usually you’re in there cooking up a storm out of whatever you’ve decided to bring home this time, I never even get a look in anymore. Always healthy and never fun, bleugh, I thought this was my house.”

“You still eat it though,” Connor pointed out. “Anyway, I decided that it would be more beneficial to the both of us if I ordered in. So I did.”

“Oh I get it.” Hank said, and he was grinning now. “That’s a fancy way of you trying to say I couldn’t be bothered. Don’t worry, Connor, you can say it, I’m not going to judge you.”

Connor crossed his arms, clearly offended. Hank outright laughed at him. “Go get changed,” he said. “I’m tired of seeing you in that uniform. It’s like work being at home with me and I just want to forget about what we don’t know right now. Also, I don’t know if you realise it, but the blue bits can get fucking obnoxious in low light. It’s giving me a headache.”

What Hank really wanted was for Connor to dump the jacket entirely. As far as he knew, most other androids had gotten rid of their uniforms already. Connor, however, still bore his model number and Cyberlife branding like a badge of pride. Why, Hank couldn’t figure out. Was the jacket that important? Or did Connor not yet feel like he’d integrated enough to remove it?

He came back in wearing a grey, long sleeved shirt and a black pair of trousers. It was the plainest outfit combo Hank had ever seen, and yet it was a miracle he’d ever gone that far. One time Hank had told him to get changed and he’d come back sans jacket but still wearing the exact same getup. When Hank had questioned him on it, he’d just said something to the effect of, “It doesn’t matter what I wear,” and ended the conversation at that.

“You ever gonna buy yourself some other outfits?” Hank asked.

Connor glanced down at himself. “Clothes are expensive, and it isn’t as if I need a surplus of different shirts.”

“Yeah, but don’t you get bored?”

“No.” Connor replied bluntly. He sat down and turned the TV on. “I’m going to go into stand-by, so feel free to watch what you want.”

Hank gave him a look. “I thought you said you weren’t tired.”

“I don’t get tired.” Connor said, echoing his statement from earlier. “I just need to stop thinking for a while. I don’t get headaches like humans do, but I feel like there is a great deal of stress on my system. It’s unpleasant.”

“Not gonna stick around for the pizza you ordered?”

“I can’t eat it regardless. And I’d rather not see the calorie count of every slice.” Connor’s smile was a sardonic thing. “If you need me, just shake my shoulders. I’ll wake up.”

“Right.” Hank said. “Wait, you’re gonna just do that sitting up?”

Too late. Connor’s eyes flickered unnervingly and then fell shut, his body going rigid. Sumo padded over from the kitchen, sitting in front of him and wagging his tail. “Christ almighty. Yeah, you’re not getting any pats out of him right now, Sumo, kid’s a fucking statue.” he paused, prodding Connor in his side as a test. Yep. He wasn’t moving anytime soon. “Does he always do it this way?”

Sumo cocked his head, and then pawed at Hank’s leg. “What? What’s up, boy?”

More pawing. For such a big dog, Sumo could sure act like a puppy when he wanted to. His doorbell rang at that moment, signalling the pizza. He sighed and got up. “Alright Sumo, give me a minute.”

The pizza wasn’t delivered by an android, like Hank was used to, but an actual human for once. Times really were changing. Connor had paid in advance, so as soon as the pizza was in hand, Hank was heading back to the living room.

Where Sumo had stolen his seat and curled up next to Connor.

“Oh, so these are the new sleeping arrangements.” Hank said, shaking his head. Connor hadn’t wanted a bed, or even a room. He was content with leaving his pile of limited clothes in Hank’s room and chilling on his side of the sofa when he wasn’t busy. “I was wondering why there was so much dog hair on my couch. I swear, what’s he done to make you love him so much huh? It’s all the petting, ain’t it?”

Sumo looked at him expectantly. Hank flipped the pizza box open and took a slice from it. “You want it? Come get it.”

Sumo looked back at Connor, and then laid his head on his leg. “Oh wow. Now that’s a damn sight. Probably for the best, he’d kill me if he found out I let you snack on pizza.”

He ate two slices of the pizza before calling it a day. Connor had ordered something too large for even him, and he was just one man on his own. He put the remains in the fridge for the morning; they’d make for a good snack on the way to work.

The Whitfield files were still on the floor by his kitchen table where Connor had left them. Hank retrieved them and chucked them on the side to be forgotten about. It sucked, but the dead shop assistant would have to wait. “Alright, Connor, Sumo,” Hank announced. “I’m heading to bed. Don’t fuck anything up, hear me?”

Sumo barked his affirmation. Connor, who was still deep in stand-by mode, said nothing.

Sleep came easy after the day he’d had. He would have been content to be late to work in favour of his bed, except he was rudely awakened by his phone going off by the side of his bed. Damn, he knew he should have put the thing in airplane mode.

He grabbed it off the side and fumbled for the accept call button. His shoulder was killing him again. “What?” Hank said blearily, not even giving the caller ID a look.

“Morning to you too, Hank.” Fowler’s voice was tinny down the line. “Where the hell are you?”

“In my bed, enjoying some well deserved sleep.” Hank replied. “What the fuck are you doing calling me at—” he checked the time. “—what the hell? It’s barely past seven, I’m not even late!”

“Another cop’s been killed.” Fowler said, his voice clipped. “The media’s got hold of it, it’s all over the fucking news. I’ve got the android she was partnered with going apeshit and everyone’s losing their goddamn minds. I need you, Hank.”

Hank closed his eyes, a heavy sigh in his throat. “Human this time who died, huh?”

“Yeah. We’ve scoped out the scene, the AX400 is gone. I’m sending you the location, you know what to do.”

He hung up at that. Hank opened his eyes, stared at the ceiling, and contemplated handing in his badge. “Fuck this all to hell.”

#Detroit: Become Human #Detroit Become Human #Connor RK800 #Hank Anderson #DBH Connor #My Writing #bit of a more relaxing chapter after last time #Shadow Mine