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pretend-writer · 3 years

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Until The End Of Time (Diego Hargreeves x reader)

Summary: After being separated from Five’s time traveling from 2019, Y/N reunites with Diego for the first time in two years. Noticing that Diego brought a friend with him, she started to become jealous.

Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x reader

Title Reference: Until The End of Time x Justin Timberlake

Word Count: 1.8k words

Warning: swearing

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Diego’s pov;

Maybe it was because I haven't seen Y/N in a long time, she seemed different. Sure her hair got longer, her smile was pretty as it had always been and her 60s styled outfit looked really good on her. But it was more than the change of her appearance.

It was as if she didn't notice me at all.

Ever since the family split up after Five time traveled from the apocalypse in 2019, I did everything I could to find Y/N. All the stores and the alleyways I've been at, she was never there. Eventually, some lunatic called the cops on me for disturbance and they decided to stick me here in the institution.

I couldn't lie about the fact that my emotions got to me to make stupid decisions. I've gotten angry at a man I tried to ask questions regarding Y/N. His rude response got the best of me and I punched him, called him fouls names.

If he hadn't said and I quote "No, I don't care about your bitch", he wouldn't have gone home with a broken nose and a black eye. It wouldn't have landed me at this institution either.

Couple months later, Five found me at the institution, told me he hasn't found anyone else in the family yet. The first thought I had in mind was Y/N and the possibility of her still being alone in the streets of Dallas.

Being a great brother that Five was, he left me in there. After I knew that the rest of the family had maybe landed here in Dallas as well, I had to try more to find Y/N. I needed to see her again.

With the help of my new friend Lila, we barely escaped from the institution. We've almost got busted by the security guards and the police officers that were looking for us but we managed to get their eyes off of us for a bit.

Who would've thought after busting my ass to find Y/N, she'd welcome me back with cold shoulder.

I'd thought the reunion with Y/N would be romantic in a sense, or at least heartwarming. She avoided eye contact with me, barely touching me as we hugged each other. I couldn't question her though, maybe later when we were alone.

Y/N’s pov;

Maybe I was overthinking, realistically I had no right to be angry or upset but I was. Diego returned to our family with a girl by his side. Not only was she a girl, she was unique and pretty badass. Not to mention they were oddly close to each other. This Lila girl and Diego looked like a good pair.

Yeah, I was jealous.

How can I not be? I've been away from my family for nearly two years after landing in 1961. Of course Diego found someone new, an upgrade if you will. After upgrading himself with nice hair and a beard.

It was still upsetting that after all the years of serving as a detective, going through hoops looking for him and Diego appears out of nowhere. I guess maybe I was the dumbass that waited years for him.

'Let's meet back together tonight to talk about dad and his whereabouts.' Five said as he stood up. 'If any of you are late I swea-'

'Yeah, yeah. You won't do shit to us.' Klaus smiled, tapping on his shoulder.

Everyone laughed in sync, Five rolling his eyes knowing damn well that we will at least 10 minutes late. 'The things I do for you guys.'

Allison giggled, pulled on my hand as she pulled me to the corner of the room. It had been years since I've seen my sister, her and Diego were the only two in the family that I haven't seen since the apocalypse.

'I can't believe you have a husband... again!' I poked her on the shoulder, 'Allison Chestnut does have a nice ring to it.'

'It does sound good, doesn't it?' Allison smiled, 'And Ray is great, amazing actually. What about you? Found anyone during the time you were here?'

"Pathetic" was the first thing I thought in my head when I realized the past two years, I didn't even bat an eye for anyone. There were other detectives and officers that were attractive of course but I didn't care to build a relationship past friendship with any of them. My mind was too focused on Diego and only him.

'A few dudes from work, yeah.'

Allison raised her eyebrows, immediately started to laugh as she detected my lie. 'You're still the worst liar I've ever met. Is this abou-'

'You know it is. Sh! Don't say it too loud.'

'So what? You waited for him and now you're not gonna talk to him?'

Having Allison as my best friend was a blessing and a curse, she read me like a book even when we haven't seen each other for years. Granted mind reading was my specialty, I always felt like Allison had this secret power and never told anyone.

'Well, in case you became blind in these past three years you've been stuck here, he has a girl with him.'

'I don't know, it doesn't seem like anything to me.'

'Okay, so you are blind.'

'Y/N, you're over thinking. The shit you always pull, I'm not even surprised.'

'I am not overthinking!'

She crossed her arms, fed up with this habit of assuming everything. She'd thought after this two years I'd be different, 'Then go read his mind then.'

'I don't need my power to figure this one out.' I chuckled under my breath, 'Did you see the way she was touching his thighs when Vanya was talking about her amnesia? Oh my g-'

Allison puckered her lips, nervously smiling but she wasn't smiling at me. 'Oh hey Diego! Long time no see brother!'

I glared at Allison before I turned around and flashed a fake smile towards Diego, I was definitely going to run my mouth about this after this encounter was over.

'Hey Allison. Congrats on your marriage.' Diego smiled sweetly, the same smile I loved for as long as I can remember.

'Thanks, thanks. Excuse me while I go talk to Luther.' Great, not only did she not warn me about Diego coming by but she left me alone with him as well.

It wasn't just me that felt the awkward tension between us because Diego was acting very strange too. 'I see you grew your beard.'

'Yeah, figured I'd do something different.' He breathed, looking at me up and down. 'You look really great Y/N.'

'Why are you telling me this?' I didn't mean to blurt it out, my stupid thoughts just came out of my mouth without me even thinking.

Diego just scratched his head, not knowing what to say after that. 'Because you do, why else would I say it?'

'Well, you need to stop.' I bit my lips as I walked out of the small apartment, making my way down the alley.

'Why are you acting like this?' He followed me. Man, I wish he didn't. Diego just made things even harder for me. 'I thought you'd be happy to see me.'

'I thought so too but-' I stopped myself, knowing that whatever came out of my mouth would definitely change everything. I couldn't do this to myself or to Diego.

'But what Y/N?'

'Nothing. I'll see you at the next meeting.'

'Wait-wait!' Diego caught my hand before I walked off, 'I've searched through this whole city looking for you. The least you can do is owe me an explanation.'

Immediately, I pulled my hand away. If I stayed here more with him I knew that I'd either get pissed off or I'd start crying. Either way, I didn't want Diego to witness that I care about all of this.

'I think the person who owes an explanation is you, Diego.'

Diego’s pov;

My brows furrowed, confused about what Y/N was going on about. What did I need to explain to her that made her to hate me so much?

Was she mad that I've beaten someone up without thinking of my consequences? Y/N used lecture me about controlling my emotions but there was no way she'd know about the reason why I got sent to an institution. Unless Five told her, of course.

But would she be this angry was the question. The way she reacted when I came to talk to her was as if I did something to upset her personally.

Then it suddenly hit me; the possible reason why Y/N was pissed off at me. The typical assumption and overthinking shit she pulled even back when we were in our old timeline.

I couldn't help but laugh, the way Y/N was eyeing me down as if she wanted to slit my throat. It was sort of kind of cute in a way, she really loved me that much to get this jealous over Lila.

'What the hell are you laughing about?'

'You're fucking adorable.' I continued to laugh, holding onto my stomach. 'You know there's nothing going on between me and Lila, right?'

Y/N's shoulders dropped as the tension in her muscles relaxed. She even had a slight, very slight smile on her face. I knew I hit bullseye the way she bit her lips and how her eyes wandered.

'Yeah, that's what I thought.'

'Shut up!' She playfully hit me on my arm, not going to lie it did hurt a little. 'Diego, I-you had me all confused... uhm wow I feel stupid.'

I pulled Y/N in for a hug, kissing her forehead and rubbing her back. 'For a mind reader, you sure assume the stupidest stuff.'

She hugged me back tightly and mumbled under her breath. 'I know, I know. When it comes to you, I go crazy.'

'It's okay, baby. We all have our moments.'

Y/N looked up at me, cupping my cheek and gently ran her finger like she used to do all the time. 'I'm so sorry, Diego. I spent these past two years looking everywhere for you and when I saw-'

'Sh, sh.' I licked my lips and stared at her eyes, it was hard to believe that she waited for me for two years. 'None of that matters anymore. We're both here now.'

A smiled formed on her face as she pulled me in for a kiss. This was a better reunion than I imagined, despite the complication we had a few minutes back. With all of this, I appreciated Y/N more and I was definitely glad that we've found each other again.

'I love you.' Words escaped my mouth as we both pulled away. 'Don't forget that.'

She kissed me again, running her fingers through my hair. 'I love you too, Diego.'

'Mhmm.' I said as I smirked, 'You know it's kind of hot when you're all angry and jealous for me.'

Y/N rolled her eyes, 'Too soon buddy. And that's not funny.'

#tua oneshot #the umbrella academy oneshot #diego hargreeves oneshot #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves fic

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tbhwhocaresanymore · 3 years

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Merry Lizmas @alyblacklist, I’m your secret Santa! Please find under the cut a short Keenler fic. It’s not very fluffy because I’m bad at that, but I tried to keep it in the Christmas spirit.

Ressler had never thought of himself as stupid.

He had always tested well, even when he hated the subject. He was fairly good at keeping his wits about him, and even as a kid his parents had never had to tell him to not get into vans with strangers. He had graduated in the top two percent of his class from Quantico, and so if he was being perfectly honest, Ressler knew he had above average intelligence. Under normal circumstances this would exempt him from taking any sort of stupid, unnecessary risk.

But whenever Liz Keen was involved, normal became a faraway dream.

He cut through a parking garage and crossed the street to start walking in the opposite direction. He’d lost the tail Cooper put on him a few blocks ago, but he was still wary Reddington might also be following somehow. He gripped the burner phone in his pocket.

The package had arrived at his apartment two days ago, and he’d received a single text with a today’s date and an address. He’d tried to trace the number only to find it disconnected, and so he’d taken out the battery and waited.

A police car with the lights off was parked on the side of the street, a bored looking cop behind the wheel. Ressler told himself he was just being paranoid. Cooper and Reddington had no proof he and Liz were in contact because they weren’tin contact, but that didn’t mean they trusted him. This was probably good judgement on their part since every so often she sent him a phone and a single text, and every time he (stupidly) showed up where she said. It probably wasn’t the healthiest relationship, but he comforted himself with the fact that at least he was honest with her, unlike her ex-husband.

He turned the corner and relaxed slightly as the cop car disappeared from view. A light snow started falling as he maneuvered around a group of carolers, ignoring a man in white robes with a sign proclaiming the imminent apocalypse.

A sign over his destination advertised VACANCY in a flickering red light. Unwilling to let the front desk worker see his face, he bypassed the office and went around the side. He took a flight of stairs two at a time, walked three doors down, and raised a hand before hesitating.

The text was burned into his eyes. Motel 6 on Down St, Room 13. 12/24 4pm.But what if this time the text hadn’t come from Liz? Or what if it had and someone had gotten here first? He shook himself. He had these fears every time he showed up to meet her, but they had yet to be realized. He’d known what he was getting himself into the first time he came without turning her in, the latest in a long line of questionable decisions involving Liz Keen.

Ressler knocked three times, and jammed his hands back in his pockets. His breath crystallized in the chilly air. He heard movement on the other side of the door and instinctively glanced over his shoulder, checking for a tail one last time.

There was the sound of a deadbolt unlocking and the door swung open.

The clock on the bedside table ticked from 4:03 to 4:04 and Liz felt her muscles crank even tighter.

An abrupt knock on the door startled her to her feet, the gun in her hand whipping up to point at the noise.

She walked up to the door and pressed the gun against it before checking through the spyhole in the door. Ressler. No matter how many times she sent for him, each time she was afraid that he wouldn’t show up.

Liz undid the chain lock and swung the door open.

Ressler blinked rapidly as he took her in, eyes scanning her up and down. “Hey.” His voice was rougher than she remembered.

“Hi.”

She stepped aside and he entered, taking his coat off and dropping it on the armoire. Liz placed her gun on top of it, drinking in the sight of him. “Thanks for coming.”

Ressler was looking at her like he’d been afraid he might never see her again. Although considering she was waging a one-woman war against Raymond Reddington, that wasn’t outside the realm of possibilities. “How are you?” Ressler asked.

Her thoughts immediately went to the patchwork of bruises on her left side. A souvenir from when she’d snuck into a business Reddington owned fifty-one percent of, and tussled with a security guard. “Fine. You?”

“Really? You’re fine?” His eyebrows rose on his forehead. “Because we got a report of a woman matching your description breaking and entering a private bank a couple days ago, a bank that happens to be controlled by Reddington. Said woman fought with a security guard who is now in the hospital but swears he got some hits in.”

Liz pursed her lips. “I’ll admit I’m a little banged up but it’s nothing.”

“Damn it Keen.” Ressler scowled at her, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Let me take you in.”

“No.” She folded her arms.

“Then let me help you.”

“No.”

“Then what the hell am I doing here?” he demanded.

Liz felt her hands form into fists. “I missed you, you idiot.”

Ressler sighed, his shoulders dropping as he stepped forward to envelop her in a hug. Liz wrapped her arms around him, breathing deeply. She was now intimately familiar with his body in a myriad of ways, and let her hands come to rest on his shoulder blades, taking comfort in his warmth.

“What are you doing to me Liz?” She heard him whisper the words into her hair.

“I’m not doing it on purpose.” The defense had barely left her when Ressler was fisting his hand in her hair to pull her head back, kissing her harshly. She responded in kind, biting his lower lip between her teeth.

They fell into each other with a frenzy, tearing each other’s clothes off in a way that was almost violent. Certain moments stood out in her mind, ones she would turn to later when she hadn’t seen him in weeks and was cold under the covers. His mouth on her collarbone, bruising the skin, her nails scratching lines into his back, the sight of his head between her legs. The sex was angry because they were angry. Ressler was angry that Liz insisted on going this alone, was angry at himself for not taking her in. Liz was angry at the world for always taking things away, and punishing her when she tried to take things in return, she was angry with Reddington and his endless, endless need for deception and lies. They were angry about all the bodies they’d had to bury over the years.

Afterwards, spent, they laid beneath the covers of the room’s single bed. Ressler was on his back, running absent fingers through her hair, Liz had an arm on his chest and her legs mixed up with his.

She felt his chest inflate and knew he was about to speak. “There has to be some way I can help you is all I’m saying.”

Liz closed her eyes. “Can we please not do this again?” They had this fight every time they saw each other and it was getting old quick.

He sighed and pressed a kiss to her head. “I’m sorry. But thinking about you out there, all alone… it drives me crazy. I’m your partner, Liz. I’m supposed to have your back.”

“You have.” She tightened her hold on him. “You do. Seeing you like this, it helps me more than you know. And don’t think I don’t realize how much you’re risking to meet with me.”

Eventually they put their underwear and shirts back on and Liz pulled out a pack of gummy bears she’d gotten from the vending machine down the hall and a card deck. He’d been teaching her poker games like Blackjack, Razz, and Texas Hold ‘em. While her poker face was impeccable, her actual knowledge of the games left a lot to be desired.

Ressler ended up winning all her gummy bears, but she put the last one between her teeth to make him take it from her with a kiss. They ended up lying back down on the sheets, the cards getting mixed up as Ressler rolled her over and lavished kisses up and down her body, being gentle with the bruises.

After what felt like no time at all, Liz heard her text tone going off and swore quietly. She picked up their clothes on the bed, rifling through them until she found her jeans. She pulled her latest burner out of the pocket and read the message.

“What is it?”

Liz snapped the phone shut. “A guy managed to come through with something I need, but I have to go now.” NYPD had tagged the car she was using after the bank break-in, so she’d had to hitchhike back to DC where she knew someone who could get her a new one.

Ressler pushed her hair aside to kiss the mark he’d left on her neck. “Relax, I’m not asking.”

She turned around to hug him, very badly not wanting to let go. But then she closed her eyes and saw her mother’s body jerking as the bullets made contact, saw Katarina crashing to the ground, Reddington standing over her with his finger on the trigger.

“This means you have to go doesn’t it?”

Liz didn’t pull back to answer. “Yeah it does.”

Ressler knelt next to his bed, staring at the open shoe box he kept beneath the loose floorboard under his nightstand. Inside it were four identical burner phones, each with the battery removed.

Even as he stared Ressler chastised himself for being so stupid. The phones were evidence, incriminating evidence. They might not have had Keen’s fingerprints on them and she may have ditched the old numbers, but he was afraid Reddington could still use them to find her if he got his hands on them. Not to mention if anyone managed to prove Keen had sent him the phones, if Park or Cooper or Aram put in the battery and saw the message that he hadn’t reported, he could go to jail for aiding a fugitive.

But that didn’t stop him from taking the fifth phone out of his pocket and adding it to the pile. Her office and apartment had been cleared out as evidence, he had nothing else left of her.

With a sigh he placed the box back in its hiding place and turned out the lights as he climbed into bed. He found himself staring at the clock, as the minutes ticked by, until it hit midnight.

Ressler looked out the window and sighed. “Merry Christmas Liz.”

End

Okay well hope you enjoyed. Happy holidays!

#TheBlacklistSecretSanta #keenler #alyblacklist #liz x ressler

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holylulusworld · 4 years

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Love tonight

Request: Do you think you could do a lion king sort of thing... like Sam and the reader were friends when they were young and everyone thought they’d end up together but then he goes to Stanford and then they meet again after all the shit (all the things he blames himself for) and they have a can you feel the love tonight moment but the reason she had run into Sam was that she needed help as someone who knows of all the things Sam had done and Sam didn’t tell her about what he’d done.

Pairing: Sam x Reader, Dean Winchester, Gordon Walker, Ellen Harvelle, Bobby Singer

Warnings: angst, threats, mentions of blood addiction, fluff, protective Sam, scared reader

A/N: We are in season five for my story. Gordon is still alive, just like Ellen and Jo. I didn’t make the reader a hunter, rather a shop owner providing weapons, books and ingredients for hunters.

“Listen, I don’t know what you are talking about, Sir. I haven’t seen Sam Winchester for like seven years. The last thing I heard him say was he wanted to leave for Stanford.”

Stepping backward, grasping for anything to fend the angry hunter off you try to calm Gordon.

“I know you were high school sweethearts and all.” Smirking Gordon steps closer. “Do you know what a monster your lover became?”

“I told you I haven’t seen Sam for years!” Panicked you glance at the door of your store. If you can make a run for it you could reach your car. “How can I know about anything he did?”

“He is not a man, he’s a monster drinking demons’ blood.” Gordon steps closer, searching your face as you take another step backward.

“Blood? This is…” Shuddering you try to buy time. “I didn’t know…” Your hands are shaking as you touch the knife in your jacket. “I swear I have no contact.”

“I don’t care, Sweetie. Sam still has a thing for you. Some time ago…” Now he smiles devilish. “I got hold of him, checked his wallet and there was a picture of you and him in it.”

Your heart flutters at Gordon’s words but right now is not the time to remember your feelings for Sam. If you want to make it unharmed out of this situation you need to play along till you can use the momentum and run.

“What else did he do?” Playing your role you clear your throat. “I need to know, Mr. Walker. If a skilled hunter like you is after Sam, he must be a monster.” Your voice is trembling, but you try to give Gordon your best poker face.

“He started the apocalypse, Y/N. Sam Winchester was best buddies with a demon, drank her blood and is one of those ‘gifted’ children.” Gordon smirks as he can see the doubts creep into your thoughts.

“So, he changed a lot…” Whimpering the words you glance at Gordon who secures his gun and that’s the moment you go for a run.

Dashing toward the door you grasp for the door handle; not caring Gordon is closely behind.

When you are out of the door you zigzag to make sure he can’t shoot you. Your breath comes out in heavy pants, but you make it to your car right before Gordon can get hold of you.

All you can think about is to find Sam to warn your friend that a crazy hunter is after him. There is no way Sam would ever do such a thing…no way…

“Ellen, thanks a lot. That guy is a lunatic for sure. He aimed a gun to my head and threatened to kill me if I do not tell him where to find Sam Winchester.” Downing the offered drink in one go you try to calm your nerves.

“Gordon Walker. He won’t give up for sure.” Bobby grumbles as he paces around his living room. “Bastard!”

“Is…is anything true that he said?” Glancing at Bobby you can see the struggle all over his face. “He drank blood and started the apocalypse?”

“Not willingly, Y/N. A demon tricked him, killed his brother and Sam, he went after her. He killed Lilith and…” Bobby nervously rubs his neck.

“I get it. He broke the last seal by killing Lilith…” Smirking you give the elder hunter a wink. “I am no hunter, but I know the Bible and lore like my left hand. So, he is not evil?”

“Who is evil?” When Dean enters the room, you recognize two things. He’s still a handsome bastard and his eyes are sadder now. You assume he went through a lot of shit over the last years.

“Dean Winchester. My secret love…” Teasing the elder brother you hug him tightly. “I heard you are dead, Winchester. Did you play Lazarus?”

“Long story, short. Angel dragged me out of hell. Name’s Castiel and he’s member of team free will now.” Dean smirks, pecking your cheek.

“Missed you, Kiddo. How have you been except for Gordon Walker trying to kill you?”

“Good. Awful. Then good again until that lunatic entered my shop and burned it down after I escaped. I hate that guy for sure.” Glancing over Dean’s shoulder you smile, letting go of the elder brother to run toward Sam.

For a moment you just look at each other. Sam and you never needed many words to understand your friend’s needs. Both of your life’s influenced by your dominant fathers, you gave each other shelter.

Sam holds your hands, gently rubbing his thumb over your skin. He breathes heavily, just like you and then Sam finally places one hand onto your cheek to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

Dean chuckles slightly, while Ellen and Bobby leave the room to give you privacy.

Despite the reason, you found each other again no one can take the moment of your reunion away from you.

“I am sorry Gordon was after you because of me. I did awful things and…” Placing two fingers onto Sam’s lips you shake your head.

“Sam, this wasn’t your fault. That guy is crazy. I know you did a few things you are not proud of, but we all have a past. We need to move on and stop Gordon.” Looking up at Sam, grasping for his hand you stand there in silence.

“Y/N…I am not the young man you used to know. I changed a lot.” Sam’s voice sounds broken, his eyes are sad, so you try to lighten his mood.

“I can see that…” Squeezing his biceps you smirk. “You grow some muscles.” Sam laughs at your words, knowing you want to help him relax.

“Y/N, we need to talk about Gordon and what we want to do now but first…” Wrapping his arms around you Sam sighs as you rest your head against his chest. “I’ve missed you, Y/N. All those years I wondered if you forgot about me.”

“Never, Sam. I never forgot about my best friend, my first love.” Mumbling the words, you close your eyes, just enjoying Sam’s closeness. “I already have an idea on how to take Gordon down…”

“Hmm…my smart girl…”

Watching Gordon fight the cops you smirk. He’s yelling something about the son of the devil, cursing their incompetence.

The cops are unimpressed. They are more interested in the content of Gordon’s trunk. Guns, knives and occult symbols catch their interest and will make sure you won’t hear from Gordon Walker anytime soon.

“Great idea, Kiddo. This way we get rid of him and don’t need to kill him.” Dean whispers as Sam worriedly watches the scene.

“What if he gets out, Dean? What if he goes after Y/N again?” While you look up at Sam his elder brother smirks behind your back.

“I guess you need to make sure your girl stays with us in that case.” Shrugging Dean gives his brother a wink. “Only to make sure she’s safe…”

Nodding Sam takes your hand in his, kissing the knuckles softly. “Dean is right. I think you are safer with us around.”

“If you insist.” Smiling you squeezes Sam’s hand, following the tall hunter toward his brother’s car.

“Well, come on Sammy. You can celebrate your reunion later…”

SPN Forever Tags

@donnaintx, @screechingartisancashbailiff, @fallen-wolf22, @sister-winchesters99, @mogaruke, @the-is13, @helloitsmeamie203, @sandlee44, @strayrosesbloom, @notyourtypicalrose, @thewinchesterco, @marvelfansworld @hobby27, @gh0stgurl, @flamencodiva, @jay-and-dean, @voltage-my2dlove, @spnhollis, @chonisberonica, @wittysunflower, @supernaturalenchanted, @shikshinkwon, @yolobloggers, @hhiggs, @laxe-from-outer-space, @ilovefanfic86, @linki-locks11, @eggingamazinglove, @trumpettay, @fandom-imagines1, @thenamelesschibi, @waywardbaby, @straycuties9, @drakelover78, @stuckys-whore, @zxph-yr, @i-love-superhero, @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt, @deepmuffinspymaker, @katsav17, @heyitscam99, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @neii3n, @exo-nova, @cocklesbelli, @echoesofpassion, @lauravic, @shatteredabby, @deanmonandnegansbitch, @sea040561, @lemondropirwin, @lonewolf471, @wronglanemendes, @juniorhuntersam, @helpmeluci, @goodgodimaweirdperson, @shadowkat-83, @alltimesamantha, @officialmarvelwhore, @meganywinchester, @miraclesoflove, @maniacproffesor, @hollymac79, @kayla-2000, @gracefultrenchcoat494, @babygirls-fav, @spnwoman, @amiquette, @alexoloughlinlover32, @geekofmanyforms, @jessica-marsh09, @spnficgirl, @shut-themoonscone, @thequeenreaders, @countrygal17a, @atomicfandombomb, @kteelou, @soryuwifeyxx, @kricketc28, @defenderrosetyler, @shortwinchester, @maybesomedaygayyyy, @tmiships4life, @sabascio, @that-place-called-middle-earth, @the-broken-angel-13, @bunnybaby89, @pandabiiissh, @maddiedott, @lilulo-12, @theoneandonlymelol, @mblaqgi, @clawsandshotguns, @justsomedreaming, @cassiopeia-barrow, @its-the-timey-wimey-winchesters, @mscarter213, @jo-like-josette, @mep6811, @prettydeaneyes, @rvgrsbrns, @deanwanddamons, @tearsforhan, @skittlebittz, @certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel

Sam/Jared Forever Tags

@moosekateer13, @thevelvetseries, @train-wrecc

#Love tonight #Sam Winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader angst #sam winchester x you #sam x reader #sam x you #angst #dean winchester #request fill #sam winchester one shot

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causeimhappinesss · 5 years

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Unexpected boner - Leon S. Kennedy (Resident Evil 2 remake)

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x reader

Warnings: smut + wrap your biscuit, please.

Disclaimer: I’m french and even if I’m learning English for eight fucking years, it’s not perfect and I’m sorry if there are spelling or grammar mistakes. If English is your native language (or if you’re bilingual), I would really appreciate it if you could help me by correcting my errors. Just don’t be too harsh, please. :)

***

“We can take a break, if you want.” You blinked a few times and tried to restrain a yawn. You knew it was very important to keep going, there was no time to lose to go out of the Raccoon City’s police station. Your body only wanted to rest and regain its strength.

“No, it’s okay Leon. The faster we’ll find the last electronic component, the faster we’ll leave this crazy town.” Leon exhaled. He was also exhausted, less than you since police school trained him and he seemed to be a sportsperson…

Your Mathilda shotgun tight in your hand, you scanned the new room and listen for any weird and guttural inhuman sound. No zombie; you let out a sigh of relief. The room was enlightened, there was a coffee table, a couch and a desk with some cupboards. Your body stopped shivering, thanks to the heating system. Until then, your body was cold because of the rain outside when you crossed the terrace. Wearing only a dress and cardigan wasn’t smart on the first day of the Apocalypse…

You two rummaged in the area for bullets, medicine and other useful items. You came closer the desk, opened every drawer, but you just found the paperwork. Disappointed? Yes, you were. As you were about to retrace your steps, you kicked something under the desk. Immediately, you lowered yourself and got down on your knees, without paying attention to your dress that went up to the limit of your behind. You reached an aspirin package without knowing you were observed.

Leon found some bullets, ready to call your name, but he froze when he saw a part of your bottom. Suddenly, he felt hot and he couldn’t his gaze back on that era of your body. You knew each other for a few hours, the situation was horrible and complicated, but he was a young and handsome man with fine taste in women. Straight away, he thought you were beautiful and you were in front of him, in an arousing position. He wished he could caress your curves, take you here and hearing your whines, even if it was unsafe. While fantasizing about you for less than a minute, he felt his cock hardening in his blue cop uniform.

“Shit, not now buddy…” he whispered, looking at his visible boner before he palmed himself. Maybe he could jerk off really quickly and cum without you noticing? No, he wouldn’t have the time and if he had, it would be uncomfortable to walk and run everywhere with his sticky semen in his boxer. He licked his lips, trying to take a decision. Too late! You raised yourself and turned your cute and beautiful face to him.

You glanced at his hand on his crotch and your cheeks warmed at the sight, playing with the edge of your dark blue dress. You weren’t that naïve, you knew you were the reason of his erection. Your heart missed a beat. All your body was on fire. You desired Leon. He was completely your style, even if it was the worst day of your life, you thought one or two times to kiss him someday. Your breath speed up and you two stood up, hesitating to make the first time.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have loo-“ He started to say, scratching the back of his neck.

Too late to apologize, now you wanted him to.

“Kiss me.” You cut him, nervous. Was it right? Nobody could judge you at the moment, but morally… You were kind of lost.

Without a second thought, he broke the distance and slipped a hand on your cheek. Tenderly, he pressed his lips against yours for a passionate kiss. His free hand fell on your hip while your tongues lead a wild dance. It didn’t feel wrong. You were over the moon. It was like you have known him for years and you trusted him with your heart. Desire… Something hardly avoidable. Hands everywhere, seeking body warmth, discovering a new body. You admired his tone chest, tracing his abs and smooth skin with the tips of your fingers, sensually.

Apocalypse? It never existed.

Zombies? What is that?

Umbrella? Never heard of.

Your living nightmare faded through his kisses and strokes. Daydreaming was dangerous in this situation, the come-dawn we’ll be doubtlessly painful, but at this precise moment… You needed this. You couldn’t imagine what would happen in the next hours and you reminded yourself that life was short, especially these days… As far as possible, you had to enjoy this sweet and sexual moment.

Clothes littered the floor, you were lying on the couch with the beautiful bluish-grey eyes men between your legs. His peck and embraces heated your skin, feeling his lips brushing against your chest, a teasing look on his face, to arouse you like you never had been.

“I want you, Officer Kennedy.” You finally whispered in his ear which made him quiver with pleasure.

His thumb traveled to your heat and wet center, between your thighs. As he titillated your most sensible part, you closed your eyes and a light whimper escaped your lips. He was experienced, it was an evidence. You could feel your first orgasm rise and before you reached it, he stops his movements. You opened your eyelids and noticed he was stroking himself before considering penetrating you. Lightly, your fingers grazed his and you took his role. He let out some almost inaudible sighs of pleasure, arousing you even more.

Finally, he stopped you, seated himself at the entrance of your vagina, titillating it with his pinkish cock head.

“Stop playing…” you murmured with a smile. With one push, he was inside you.

“Oh God…” he groaned. You lightly moan together at the feeling. He let you adjust to his size before he started with backwards and forwards movements. Faster and more intense his thrusts were, the more you struggled to remain silent.

“Shh, Y/N…” He kissed you to make you silent as you tighten your legs around his hips, one hand on his butt to push his member farther inside you while the other played with his locks.

He accelerated the pace until the pleasure became intense. So intense that he moaned in his turn, trying to keep quiet by kissing your neck and putting a hand against your mouth. Nirvana was approaching for both of you. When your vagina tightened around his member during your orgasm, he lost control of his pace and it took him little time to enjoy his turn. The feeling of intense well-being and euphoria took hold of him, letting his hot semen spill into your vagina, filling you completely.

Slowly, his pelvic movements stopped, but he remained a few moments inside you to kiss you. You almost didn’t know each other, and yet there was such a strong connection between you two. Maybe even more than that... None of you had thought of putting on a condom, for lack of means, and the pleasure was so intense that he couldn’t pull out in time.

When he retired, he watched a few drops of his seed escaping from your walls. At the moment, he didn’t think of the consequences it could engender. He found it terribly exciting. He made you roll so that you found yourself above him and he held you in his arms.

"Incredible..." he murmured.

"Do not let me down after that, Leon..." you whispered, frightened of the future.

"Never. You and I are in the same boat... You are my partner in crime.” He claimed in a humorous tone before he stole you a kiss.

#Leon S Kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil imagine #re2 remake #leon s kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader

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zecretsanta · 4 years

Text

To: @chessanator From: @whatever-43 / (mechadogmarron@AO3)

Happy holidays! I hope you enjoy this... not even slightly holiday themed fic! :)

“Aum Shinrikyo?”

“Hm.” Akane added the group to the growing list of organizations that might feasibly have a religious terrorist, writing as small as she could to leave room for even more names. “I don’t think we’re getting anywhere this way.”

“Without even knowing a nation, it’ll be difficult to narrow it down.�� Phi tapped her foot, thoughtful. She and Sigma had signed on to help Crash Keys, with the understanding that as soon as this terrorism business was done, they were out, thank you very much.

“He mentioned it was a nuclear attack, right?” Sigma said. “Most countries don’t have nukes. You can cut off a good chunk of these. Should be workable.”

“Doesn’t matter, if they can provoke a nation with nukes to use them. Or attack a nuclear power plant. Once the bombs start flying...” Phi shrugged. Her friend — coworker? father? — could be an absolute goddamn buffoon, but that went without saying.

“Phi’s right. Speaking of which — Sigma, Phi, did you have any luck using Sean to access Delta’s quantum computer functions?”

“Wouldn’t’ve here listing terrorist groups if we had. Whatever protection he’s got on that thing, it’s way beyond anything I’ve ever seen. Frankly, I don’t think it’s possible without an advanced quantum computer of our own — there are forms of encryption and protection they can solve in an instant that conventional machines will never solve.”

“Takes one to break one, huh? And I assume there’s nothing on the market like that...” Akane sighed.

He shook his head. “His was one of a kind. I can’t imagine how he managed to build it — he must’ve used the teleporter. But we don’t have access to the damn thing, and dead men tell no tales. I’m tempted to try to SHIFT back and see if we can’t save it, but that doesn’t do anything for this timeline.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I wish I could SHIFT into the timeline where I don’t have to think about SHIFTing.” Junpei rolled his eyes.

“But if you did, you would still know about SHIFTing, and that you would be here and forced to learn to SHIFT. You would increase the amount of SHIFTing in the metatemporality, if by an infinitely small amount.” Akane smiled, and Phi had to choke back a groan. “Well, not exactly. It’s actually an interesting question — whether you choose to SHIFT or not already splits a timeline, so ultimately, all it does is let you choose which timeline you’d rather inhabit. In essence, that we’ve attempted to do this at all, or ever would, has already created an infinite manifold of quantum possibilities by which—“ Her face suddenly went blank, and she closed her eyes. Weird. Phi glanced over to Junpei to see if it got a rise out of him, but both he and Aoi seemed calm enough.

There was a moment of comfortable silence, and then Akane threw herself across the room, eyes snapped open. “Everyone, up and out!”

“What’s up?” Junpei asked, not waiting for an answer to rush to her side. Didn’t need to tell Phi twice, either.

“There’s a bomb in the building.”

“Any chance of disarming it?” Phi’d bothered to read up after the A-B; she and Sigma had decent chances versus anything conventional. But if two death games had taught her anything, it was just how ridiculously unconventional you could get.

“The Aoi who told me didn’t know anything about it. Roof collapse.”

“Got it.” Aoi pulled the fire alarm as they scattered, though God willing no one else should’ve been in the warehouse they’d been meeting up in.

It was a huge building, but all of them knew how to get the hell out of a place, in more ways than one. It was familiar: against the ground, go, go, go!; every eye and ear alert for the first second’s notice that it was time to SHIFT, bodies equally primed for the feeling of someone SHIFTing into them, as so often happened in times of disaster. But the door was in sight. Akane first, than Aoi and Junpei; finally, Phi, and then—

Sigma was halfway out the door when they heard the catastrophic boom, followed by screeching beams as the building suddenly weakened from the loss of support and the heat and fire. He froze, and without thinking, Phi grabbed him and pulled him the rest of the way.

“It’s not safe here,” Akane said. “Whoever did that, we don’t know if they’re still around. And none of us want to deal with cops. Aoi, send a message to all the other Receivers and let them know someone’s after Crash Keys — bet SOIS is another target. Phi, you’re driving.”

“Got it.” The five of them piled into the heavy truck, wheels spinning before the last door was even closed.

Whatever their enemy was, they’d noticed Crash Keys. Now, the game was on.

###

“So you can Receive messages even from other timelines?”

Akane nodded. “Not consistently, but Junpei’s been able to cross-Send to me before. Aoi only picked it up recently. I think the Decision Game strengthened my ability to Receive. I’m sorry, I figured you two knew.”

“Water under the bridge,” Sigma replied. Phi wanted to tell him to shut up — it was an incredible skill to have, to transfer information without endangering the consciousness — but they had bigger fish to fry. “I assume you’ve been keeping an ear out for any more information?”

She nodded. “But I only ever get snippets, so I don’t think I’ll get anything useful, and so far we all live in a timeline where no one SHIFTed back to warn us.”

“Hm. Well, we know they know about us, and they’ve got a presence in Japan. I’m guessing they could follow us even if we left the country.” Phi pulled a thoughtful expression. “They may not be a known terrorist cell; could even be something recent. Did SOIS know where we were meeting? They could have a rat.”

Akane shook her head. “I don’t share details of our operations with anyone. We have too many enemies, and a group that big, rats aren’t just likely, they’re inevitable.”

“Hm. It’s possible one of us is a rat, but there are an ungodly number of ways to track someone. If someone had their mind against us, figuring out where they were would be trivial.” Junpei shrugged. “Saw a lot of them, the past few years. You wouldn’t believe how many places you can stick a GPS transmitter.”

Sigma nodded. “We can’t ignore the possibility of a traitor, but we have no evidence towards it and no actionable way to work around it. Either way, our enemies have shown they’re willing to go to lengths against us. We can’t assume we’re safe until this is figured out. They might go after our associates, too... You guys should contact Carlos. Phi, you get ahold of Diana. I’ll talk to Sean.”

“If they have a trace on our phones, that could make the situation worse.” Phi sighed. “We’ll want burners.”

“Already got you covered,” Aoi said. “They’re in the glovebox. Akane, could you pass them around?”

Calls went quick. The critical warnings first, then the usual pleasantries: “keep Eric out of trouble, you know how he gets”; “say hi to Maria for me”; “...love you too, Mom.” As soon as the relevant news had been spread, Akane collected the phones and — checking to make sure they wouldn’t hit anything first — threw them into an odd metal bag.

“It’s shielded to block network communications,” she explained. “I’d love to incinerate them, but we don’t have time for that. We’ll want to stay on the move as much as we can for now. The first question: do you think they know about SHIFTing?”

“If they know about Crash Keys, they almost certainly have some knowledge of psionic potential, but it may be an incomplete understanding. That may be why they went after us when the expected apocalyptic date isn’t for another couple years. If they don’t have a strong understanding of the concept of timelines, they may think it’ll prevent us from using our abilities to send information about their operations backwards. After all, a dead man can’t SHIFT,” Phi said.

“According to the parallel possibility hypothesis, the less likely it is for us to survive to stop the apocalypse, the fewer timelines will be generated in which it happens. Ultimately, that doesn’t matter in conventional metrics, but it means that fewer timelines exist where we can SHIFT, meaning fewer timelines exist overall where we do... Of course, the objective temporal space hypothesis contradicts this, but a lot of psychospacial researchers believe in the former. It has to do with a contradiction between conventional quantum physics and conventional quantum mathematics — we don’t know which is correct. For what it’s worth, I subscribe to the latter.”

“So what you’re saying is that they might be in the know about the whole thing?”

She nodded. “They may even have access to a quantum computer, in which case the answer of how they’re keeping eyes on us is trivial. Awareness of the subject is growing rapidly, after all — I suspect that if the world doesn’t end, governments will begin officially acknowledging psychic phenomenon within two decades. It could be associates of Cradle.”

“Damn, I wish Delta would’ve given us more hints. Snail this and snail that, like, shut up, dude!”

“Junpei, that’s it!” Phi was too calm to jump to her feet, and she was buckled in in a moving truck anyways, but damn if she didn’t want to. “Delta’s snail was what connected all of us — what brought us to our lives. But it wasn’t connected to him. It was only because of him that we were born, and he only had us born because of the apocalypse, right?”

“So, he was bullshitting us?” Junpei said.

Phi shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think he was giving us a hint that he was connected to the apocalypse; that completes the circle, because the snail lead to Cradle, which became a prototype for his Free the Soul. If Delta is, in some way, at fault for the apocalypse, the timeline stabilizes around him; his existence creates the circumstances for his existence.”

“So he needed to create the apocalypse to stop the apocalypse so he could be born? That doesn’t make—“

“I see, I see! Jumpy, you should pay more attention. It’s an example of a bootstrap loop. Essentially, his existence was already a casual loop — as in the bootstrap paradox — so by nature, he was driven to strengthen the connection.”

“Wait, he was connected to Free the Soul, right?” Sigma said. “Phi, do you remember Dio?”

“Unfortunately.”

“He said he was the fourth generation of Left clone, back in 2074. If Delta died in that timeline, the clones would have to be raising themselves, right? So if we assume twenty years between generations, that means the first generation was born 34 years ago. They’re old enough to be wracked with grief over the death of your weird brother-father-figure. Old enough to keep manning his terrorist group, like they did in our timeline. Old enough to plot vengeance. And with Delta, their savior, dead...”

“...they might just decide the world should burn. Bombs are a huge part of their MO, too.” Phi turned to Akane. “Does Crash Keys have any experience with Free the Soul? Only some? Well, let me fill you in...”

###

“Tell me again, why did we bring Carlos?” Aoi gave the man an odd look.

“The more SHIFTers the better. We might be able to pull you along with this many. Hopefully we won’t need to, but...” Akane shrugged. “Best to be prepared. And he’s a better shot than any of us.”

“Guess no one would hear a gun all the way out here.” The remote compound that they’d found — courtesy a SOIS tip — was miles and miles from civilization, disguised as an abandoned old farm. But they all knew that behind that veneer of nasty old wood lay a sizable cell of Free The Soul adherents.

“You know, I heard in some countries they’re taking down old barns for the barn wood. It’s considered a hot commodity,” Akane said as they completed their scope of the outer perimeter. No noise, no movement, nothing. Junpei’s aerial drone hadn’t seen anything from above. By all accounts, the place was empty.

“Maybe we should call ‘em here.” Junpei waved them over to a door. With a nod all around and a creak, he opened it.

“Jesus fuck!” Sigma swore.

If not for the dozens of perfectly identical bloody bodies, it would’ve been a fairly typical cult barn (in his limited but surprisingly nonzero experience), but then there were the bodies — each identical copies, a bit older than the Dio he remembered, each coated in blood from their mouths, their ears, their eye sockets.

“What the hell is this?” Junpei shouted. Akane grabbed him before he could get any closer. “What—“

“Whatever it is, we don’t know that it’s safe. They’ve used diseases before. Did any of you see anything like this during the Decision Game? No? Alright. Mask up, all.”

Although he didn’t get too close, Sigma still took a moment to examine the corpses as best he could. Their clothes were simple and unassuming, not designed for drama and grace in the face of what must’ve been a particularly violent ritual suicide. They didn’t have any obvious wounds; it looked more like it had exploded out of them. Even with the limited viewing angles available, if there had actually been a physical cause, it would’ve had to be visible, unless someone had dressed them all after they’d killed themselves in the nude.

Which… didn’t seem beyond Free the Soul, but he didn’t exactly have a Hazmat suit on him. It definitely wouldn’t be past Free the Soul to poison their corpses, either. And God knew what the hell these men had for diseases. Radical-6 didn’t come from nowhere, after all.

“Do you think there’s a reason they did it?”

“Maybe the next batch of clones is ready to take their place?” Carlos said. “I mean, fewer mouths to feed and all that. These guys are old enough to have kids getting ready to take their place.”

“Not a bad guess, but if they’re preparing to end the world, I’d think they’d need all the manpower they can get.”

“Probably not. Radical-6 didn’t take a lot of people. Just took…” Phi trailed off. “You know. It’s how you use it, not what you’ve got. Although I can’t imagine Delta built that facility of his without some help.”

“Another perk to the clones, right? And if he had the ones who knew the details off themselves, they couldn’t rat on him. If he’d… been alive, anyways. Do they know about what happened?”

“Almost certainly. Unless he wanted them to remain in ignorance, anyways. That happens in cults sometimes, you know.” Akane shrugged. “If they know their leader is dead, it humanizes him, and weakens the cause. But I don’t think Free the Soul’s core adherents had anything to worry about with that. A clone raised in the cult is different from a regular person who joins looking for some kind of meaningful contact and applicable philosophy. Junpei, do you still have your scanner devices?”

Junpei nodded. “Do you want me to scope the place out?”

“Yeah. If this was the cell location, and not just a spot for a mass suicide, they’ve got to have some kind of living quarters.”

“Good point.” He deployed a weird little metal device he pulled from his bag, which skittered across the ground, edges rolling in circles. Soon, it stopped in place over what looked like plain dirt. “There’s something about six inches below.”

“They did a good job on covering it up. Good find.” With six people, it took no time at all to clear the space, revealing a clean metal hatch, out of place in the rustic, rotted space. It had some sort of baffling sliding puzzle lock that wouldn’t really serve to keep anyone out, just inconvienence them — one that Phi popped in a blink of an eye — and then they were looking at a deep tunnel down into darkness.

“Headlamps on. I’ll lead. You next, Jumpy. Then Carlos, Aoi, Phi, Sigma.”

“Got it.” Her tone brokered no argument.

The space beneath them was unlit, a basement of smooth concrete walls. Each door was unmarked, the inhabitants presumably well aware of the contents; opening them revealed the standard sort of things one might expect in a barracks — six simple dorms fitting four each, bathrooms with communal showers, a small reading room with only Free the Soul approved texts; largely, known scriptures, with a smattering of what must’ve been Delta’s own work.

“We’ll come back for them. Living targets first. Books aren’t going to disappear.”

“Got it.”

There were no clone tanks, no technology for producing more Lefts, which suggested that this wasn’t their main facility. But the room at the end of the singular hallway gave off an aura of something’s-in-here — despite being identical to the rest.

Akane signaled Carlos, and he readied his weapon. Then, with a flourish, she pulled the door open.

Behind the door was a familiar man — familiar in his blonde hair, in his graceful features, in his sense of dress, but not in the way he held himself.

The next generation of Lefts? But he seemed different, somehow.

“So you found us here,” the man said, and turned to meet Akane’s eyes. “My name is Left.”

“You’re planning a terrorist attack.”

“Yes. You saw the bodies upstairs, right?”

She nodded. “Killing your own brothers in cold blood.”

“Not exactly. They’re not really mine. You see, I arrived in this timeline eight months ago — the same day my brother died.” His face broke into a sad smile. “I used the teleporter, of course. I’m incapable of SHIFTing.”

“You’re the original Left, aren’t you?” Phi watched him, eyes sharp — tense and ready to respond to even the slightest indication of trouble.

He nodded. “Eight months ago, when I was fifteen, a man brought me to the teleporter and took me forward to this day. He said I might be able to meet with my brother. But I found out almost immediately that Delta had been killed. And there’s no way I can set the transporter to ensure I’ll be teleported into a timeline with him.”

“So you took control of Free the Soul?”

He nodded. “Delta had contingencies, plans. My clones listened to me, and I studied my brother’s research. Eventually, I developed a plan — one he himself must’ve seen me learn through his quantum computer.”

“A plan to destroy the world that took you from him?”

“If it comes to that. Destroying all of human life isn’t difficult, really. It’s hard to destroy it selectively, to keep a few alive. But to just decimate, with no care in the world? Trivial. My brother developed a virus for his Decision Game, one called Fanatic Bio R. You wouldn’t have seen it; it was in a game for the non-SHIFTers. But it’s completely fatal. And I’ve modified a version to be more contagious.”

“So you’ll release it on the world and — what? Even if it’s contagious, there’s no way it could spread to everyone,” Phi said.

“No, it can’t. But that’s the beauty of it — it doesn’t have to. It’ll be obvious to any scientist that studies it that it’s completely artificial. Once the governments know, the fear starts. The wars start. The bombs start. Mankind’s governments have all the power they need to end all human life — they just need a bit of a push.”

“So you’re the terrorist he warned us about.” Akane’s voice was steady.

“Yes. But don’t worry — if you do what we say, no one will get hurt.”

“Why would we listen to you, you sick bastard?”

“Didn’t I just explain why? If I’m killed, my contingencies go off. The plan doesn’t need me breathing; it’s not like I’d survive anyways. And no one has to die for my plan. You’ll even get to save a life. All you have to do is SHIFT back to before you killed my brother, and let him live — and with so many of you, it shouldn’t be a problem to take me with you.”

“You don’t have a body there.”

“I don’t have a body, no. But I have clones. It’s the same idea — I’ll be able to SHIFT into one of them. After all, if there was a transporter copy of you in the same timeline as an original self, you could SHIFT into either. It’s the same concept. And there’s none of the ethical issues with SHIFTing someone into an unpleasant timeline — I’ve made arrangements to be sure that the plan won’t fire once I’m gone. They’ll simply move eight months forward to find that they’ve been spared the work of finding the terrorist. If anything, they’ve got the lucky end of the stick.”

“How do we know you and Delta won’t go killing people in the new timeline?”

“Why would we? From what I remember, before the me left in the old timeline died, he was a normal man. For all his posturing, he only wanted to be with family. Two of you started Nonary Games, didn’t you? You’re not so different. I saw the results of his Decision Game. I saw how many people your mother killed for you in that timeline, Phi.”

Phi opened her mouth to respond, but Akane cut her off. “Let us talk about it. We’ll give you your answer in... fifteen minutes, let’s say.”

“Of course. I don’t have any way of monitoring the facility, and all of the doors here are soundproof. You can speak wherever you’d like.”

As soon as they were out of earshot, Junpei nearly exploded. “Did you hear that bastard? Playing with our lives like that? And—“

“Just a moment. Aoi, I need you to leave. Start making arrangements to stop his Fanatic Bio R plan, just in case. If we do SHIFT, our chances of pulling him are better if you’re not there.”

“Got it. Stay safe. I couldn’t bear to live without you.”

“Plenty of you already are, you know. But don’t worry — an Akane will come home for you. As for everyone else, is anyone definitely in support?”

Carlos nodded. “I—“

“Arguments later. Anyone definitely against?”

Junpei nodded. “That crazy asshole—“

“Arguments later. Phi, Sigma, you’re on the fence?”

“There’s a timeline where we do it and a timeline where we don’t. Each of those has a timeline where it was the right choice and a timeline where it was the wrong choice. It’s hard to say which one is which.” Phi sighed. “I texted Mira, and she confirmed Fanatic Bio R was in the game. Apparently she and the others injected themselves with Radical-6 to stop it from killing them.”

“Hence releasing Radical-6 to stop the terrorist — Left’s plans would’ve been useless in that timeline. Even if he survived, the disease would’ve done nothing, and even if it had, the governments would’ve collapsed before they could go to war.” Sigma nodded along as he spoke. “It makes sense.”

“Exactly. So the weapon exists, and there’s no reason to assume he wouldn’t use it. But whether a fifteen year old could establish a global network in a span of months to effectively modify and spread a dangerous disease the moment he was stopped, well, that’s more questionable.”

“So it could go either way.”

“Yeah. And that’s assuming his plan worked. There’s a good chance Fanatic Bio R kills everyone wherever he sets it off and dies without spreading. It gets blamed on chemical weapons, maybe, some terrorist group or controversial government takes the fall, and we all move on. I’d say it’s a roughly 30% chance it’s really bad, and maybe a 5% chance it’s apocalyptic.”

“Those are pretty good odds, though, right?” Junpei said. “Carlos, you should just shoot him.”

“They’re not as good as they look. A 5% chance of the apocalypse is huge. What matters is the chance of things going wrong if he’s reunited with Delta. I’m guessing it’s probably comparable.”

“I see. Then why don’t we do both?” Akane said. “Flip a coin on it — that’ll make a good point to split the timeline, so one of us can come back if we’re wrong. Then, if it’s heads, we SHIFT with him — unless someone SHIFTs back first and tells us not to — and tails, we kill him, again, unless someone SHIFTs back. That moves the odds in our favor as much as it can.”

“That’s a pretty good plan. And it works for you two, too. If Carlos is right, when we pull up tails he’ll SHIFT back and stop us. If Junpei is right, when we get heads he’ll SHIFT back. At worst, only one of us is stuck in a bad timeline, and the chance of that is pretty low.” Sigma shrugged. “Any of you have a coin?”

Akane smiled, pulling one from her pocket. “If any of you want out, it’s your last chance to climb that ladder. Goes for you too, Junpei, Carlos. You don’t have to be party to it.”

“I’m not leaving your side,” Junpei replied, and she tossed the coin in the air.

Somewhere in a Nevada desert, a gun didn’t fire.

Somewhere under a barn in western Iowa, one did.

#zero escape #zero time dilemma #chessanator #whatever-43 #zecret santa 2019 #submission

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theperksofbeingbarbie · 5 years

Text

The Empath (Pt 4/?)

Summary: The gang goes to Leonard Peabody’s house and finds the aftermath of Vanya’s freak out. Reader and Diego attempt to have a heart to heart. Reader adds in their two cents regarding the imprisonment of Vanya.

Set during Changes

Pairing: Diego x Reader; Platonic!Klaus x Reader

Warnings: Language? It’s pretty light in this one honestly.

Word Count: 1,826

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6

A/N: This follows the show pretty damn close, honestly. I just really really wanted to use reader’s power against Luther. Low key hoping to find a reason to use it again... Let me know what you think! I’m thinking of just one last part but we’ll see how the cookie crumbles, I guess. Also, who is excited for Game of Thrones???? If Arya and Gendry become canon in the next six weeks, I will abandon everything else to scream about it jsyk.

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“It’s not exactly what I was expecting.”

“The understatement of the year.”

You crouched beside the body, looking at all of the tools sticking out from Leonard Peabody’s body. “Those are really nice sewing scissors,” you commented sadly, wishing you could take them without the police trying to track down a missing murder weapon.

“No sign of Vanya.”

“Let’s get out of here before the cops come,” Diego said as he turned to leave, you and Klaus following obediently.

Five shook his head. “In a minute.” He sighed as he walked closer to Leonard’s head, pulling something from his pocket. You all turned around to see Five pull the bandage off his eye.

Diego gagged, covering his mouth. “C’mon, Five, what are you-” You rubbed Diego’s back soothingly as he was forced to look away.

“Ugh, wow,” Klaus mumbled, a bit of interest in his tone as he bent over to see Five slip the glass eye into Leonard’s head.

Five got excited as he pulled back to see how it matched the other eye. “Same eye color, same pupil size!” He turned to look at the others. “Guys, this is it! The eye I’ve been carrying around for decades it’s--” He turned back with a sigh. “It’s found it’s rightful home.” Five quickly pushed it back out of Leonard’s eye socket.

“We got the guy we needed to kill to stop the apocalypse,” Diego realized.

“Yay!” Klaus dragged out softly, an edge of sarcasm in his voice. “C’mon, let’s go.” He turned to leave, Diego grabbing him by the back of his vest.

“Can it really be that easy?” you asked, staring down at the body. All this work for one guy stabbed to death with anything sharp in the house?

“No,” Five agreed, standing up to stand in the middle of the triangle, pulling out the note from his other pocket. “This is the note I received from the Commission. The one that says ‘Protect Harold Jenkins’, aka Leonard Peabody. But who killed him? Who did this?”

“I have a crazy idea,” Klaus began, waving his hand.

“We need to find Vanya,” you continued, years together causing a connection. Five phased out of the room before you could finish.

Klaus nodded, completing the thought, “And ask her what happened.” He shrugged as if it were really a crazy idea.

Diego seemed to consider that for a moment, nodding in agreement. “If Vanya got away from this asshole, she might be headed back to the Academy.”

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

Everyone seemed to sigh as they convened at the top of the stairs. “No sign of Vanya,” Five announced.

“She’s not in any of the rooms,” Diego confirmed.

“I got nothing downstairs.”

“Or outside,” you agreed, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“Well, I’m out.” Diego patted your shoulder as he passed by to go to his room. Everyone turned to watch him walk away.

“Where the hell are you going?” Five demanded. “Vanya is still out there and so are Hazel and Cha Cha.”

Diego stopped, turning back to look at the group. “I know. I’m gonna get my things and then I’m outta here. I got some unfinished business with those fools.” He didn’t want to hear anymore about it, turning to leave.

You huffed, shaking your head. You could feel Diego’s pain, the deep rooted heart break since you had met him, but you hadn’t had a chance to ask about it. You decided to go after him, standing in the door of his childhood bedroom. “Are you gonna tell me about her?”

Diego didn’t look up as he threw stuff in a black duffle bag. “Can’t figure it out?”

“I can feel the pain, I can tell it’s grief.” You crossed your arms, leaning against the door frame. “I’m gonna guess lost love. Doesn’t mean I know the details.”

Diego stopped, looking down at the contents of his bag without truly looking at them. “Eudora Patch,” he conceded. You could feel the rage start to overtake the grief as he continued to silently recreate the scene in his mind. “I told her- She finally did things my way and got killed.”

“Diego-”

“It’s my fault she’s dead and I have to make it right.”

You made the rest of the way into his room, gently grabbing his arm to get him to look at you. “It’s not your fault, Diego,” you said firmly, rubbing your thumb soothingly over his bicep. “Revenge isn’t going to help you sleep at night. You need to work through the pain and get past it.”

Diego’s eyes searched yours and for a brief moment you thought he might calm down, when he pulled his arm from your hand to zip the bag shut. “You and Klaus are two peas in a pod.” He pushed past you to leave the room.

“Because we’ve felt that pain, and anger, and grief and tried to get through it.”

“Yeah, by becoming junkies. I’ll pass,” Diego spat bitterly.

You set your jaw, nostrils flaring a bit at his comment. You knew that you didn’t handle your power and feelings in a healthy way and it became a problem you still struggled with every day. It was always a moment in your history that only brought shame when you thought of it, and it being used negatively against you? It fucking hurt. Rolling your eyes you pushed past him to find Klaus.

“[Y-],” Diego called when he saw how upset his comment made you.

“Have fun killing those assholes, De. Hope it helps,” you said over your shoulder with a sarcastic wave, sparks jumping off your fingers.

Diego huffed as he watched you leave, turning to go down the stairs.

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

You were with Grace in the kitchen as a way to distract yourself from your fight with Diego when the house started to shake. You managed to find Klaus when it died down and followed him into an old elevator. You took a deep breath to try to steady yourself, more and stronger emotions filling you the lower you went. Klaus rubbed your back when he noticed you getting overwhelmed. “You don’t have to do this,” he whispered, kissing your temple when you just shook your head.

“You locked up our sister because you think she has powers,” Diego said, the group watching Vanya melt down after waking up.

You closed and opened your fists in an attempt to use up some of the energy that filled every inch of your being.

“No,” Luther corrected, “I know she does. Pogo told me.” He shook his head a bit. “He’s always known and so did Dad.”

Diego took a step forward toward the door, leaning his hand on it. “Why would they hide this from us? I mean, am I the only one in this family that didn’t know this place existed?”

Klaus shook his head, bringing his hands to his lips. “He hid so much from us,” he whispered.

“He hid it because he was afraid....” Luther took a few steps forward with a sigh. “Of her.”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Oh, that’s ridiculous!”

Luther huffed. “Is it? Dad’s lied about everything else, why is this so far-fetched?”

You felt the pent up buzzing energy of fear soften to sadness, but it was still making you feel like you would never know stillness again.

“If you’re right, maybe she’s the one who killed Peabody?” Diego suggested, finally looking back at his brother.

“And cut Allison’s throat.”

“Whoa, no. Let’s....” Klaus threw his hands up, clenching them into fists as he tried to gather his thoughts. “I ju-- I’m sorry, let’s go back, alright? This is Vanya we’re talking about.” He motioned to the crying girl on the other side of the window. “Our sister. The one who always cried when we stepped on ants as kids.”

Luther nodded solemnly. “Yeah, I know. I know it’s difficult to accept--”

“It’s not difficult to accept!” Klaus shouted, turning back to look at Luther. “It’s impossible to accept.”

Diego also turned. “No, he’s right. Look, we can’t keep her locked up without proof.”

Luther recoiled at that, a confused grimace on his face. “Wh-What more proof do you need?”

“Why don’t we just open the door and ask her?” Klaus suggested, gesturing broadly to the wheel that locked the door. He reached over but was quickly pulled back by Luther.

“No. She’s not going anywhere!”

“Even if you’re right, she needs our help,” Diego reasoned, pointing at the still screaming Vanya. “And we can’t do that if she’s locked in a cage!”

You finally decided you had to step in, unable to deal with the fighting and pure fear that coursed through your veins. “She’s fucking terrified, Luther! You’re not even giving her a chance to deal with it!”

“It must be scary, suddenly having a power you never thought you had! Discovering things you never thought you could do!” Klaus agreed.

You tried to get past the man in front of you, using Vanya’s fear to send out a pulse to send Luther back. You heard Klaus and Diego stumble and end up against the walls but Luther only got sent back a step, pushing you back hard by your chest. You felt Diego catch you to keep you from falling, holding your hand to steady you. You pulled out of his grasp, still annoyed with what he said earlier.

“Look, if even half of what Pogo told me is true, then she is not just a danger to us.”

There was a pause as everyone heard steps approaching. Turning, you saw it was Allison.

Luther sighed, “Allison, what are you doing down here? You should be in bed.”

Allison took her pen and paper, writing ‘Let her go’ before holding it up to Luther.

“I can’t do that. She hurt you.”

Allison glared at her brother for a moment before turning the page to write something else. ‘My fault’ the page read.

“I’m sorry, but she’s staying put,” Luther replied dejectedly. Allison quickly walked forward to push past Luther but was stopped, though his touch was much more gentle than what he used on you. “Just until we know what we’re dealing with.” Allison tried going to the other side of Luther but was still stopped.

Diego gently pushed you to turn around, but you moved to the other side of the room to be by Klaus. Holding his hand, you turned to see Allison hit Luther over and over. Klaus just pulled you along with him, back to the elevator.

“She stays put.” Luther pushed Allison back down the hall. “C’mon, you need your rest.”

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

You laid on Klaus’ bed reading a discarded book you found in the library as he played patty cake with the air across from him. You glanced over every so often to see if you could catch another glimpse of the lost brother, but it never came. You sighed as you turned the page, still thinking about Diego when you heard a loud creaking noise, followed by a crash. “What the hell?”

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Tag List: @misspygmypie @mischiefnevermanaged94 @stars-cant-be-broken Send me an ask or reply if you wanna be added to the tag list!

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sapphicmal · 5 years

Text

Sorry Klaus

Klaus was fucking done. Or, he tried to be. But he always came back to help whenever he was needed. Not that anyone seemed to really care.

Klaus was just the fuck up, no one took him seriously. The druggy, alcoholic, and occasional prostitute when he had to be. When the urge was too strong. When sobriety and all the stuff that came with it came creeping up on him. No one ever takes the fuck up seriously.

They thought he was crazy when he said that he saw Dad, and when he said he talks to Ben.. They passed it off as a side effect of the drugs. Every now and then they got pissed off because for fucks sake Klaus try and act normal just this once, this is an important issue and you still can’t keep off the drugs?

They didn’t really care, not really. Unless they needed something. Like in this very instant. And usually Klaus would go alone, but now he’s bitter. Heartbreak and war will do that to a person. And he has had enough. He always came back to help, but this was the last time.

“Klaus, are you okay?” He almost bought it. It sounded like genuine concern coming out of Allison’s mouth- but he knew first hand how much shit passed between her lips and rolled off her tongue so he ignored it.

“You mean, am I sober. And yes, I am.”

Allison physically recoiled, not much but he noticed. Ben raised an eyebrow, not used to this kind of attitude from Klaus. Especially towards his family. But he didn’t say anything because kind of understood. He was there to see how they treated Klaus, only this time Klaus said something back.

“No, I mean are you okay,” She tried again, but keeping more of a distance. “You seem… out of it.”

“You mean more out of it than usual? Like I’m back to being a no good, drugged up-”

“No! Klaus. That’s not what I meant. You just seem kind of down-” She tried to defend herself but Klaus’ blood was already boiling. Sobering up had made him a tad crankier than usual.

“Well thanks for caring now-”

“I have always cared-”

“No. You haven’t. But I don’t care anymore. I’ll do this for Five, but after this I’m leaving.”

“And where will you go?” Diego steps into the room, pissed off. They were all trying to prevent the apocalypse and the last thing he needed was to be dealing with Klaus’ meltdown.

“Where I always go.” He answered, off-handedly.

“And where’s that? Rehab? Drughouse?”

“Diego!” Allison scolded but Klaus but his hand out to stop her.

“No, no it’s fine. I already know what all of you think of me. So fuck you Diego!” Diego took a step forward, his temper getting the best of him, but Vanya stepped in front of him to stop him charging straight at Klaus.

“And Allison,” Klaus turned to face her, turning his back to Diego. “thank you, but I don’t need your misplaced concern or care. I’m here to do this job, you need me to do this job. And then I’m leaving. I’ll officially be out your hair.”

He charged out the room, brushing past Luther and Five. No one bothered to call out after him.

He stuck to his word. He contacted their Dad, got whatever information they needed, and they managed to prevent the apocalypse. Vanya was happy and seemed to have swapped places with Klaus, so he was even more out of the loop than he was before. Not that it bothered him much. He kept to his promise and left, and didn’t look back.

…

But of course he didn’t mean it! He wanted someone, anyone, to reach out to him. But no one did. Diego didn’t even get one of his cop friends to track him down like he usually did. It’s been a year since that day and he’s received nothing but radio silence from his family. He started to wonder if maybe he needed to write a book to get their attention. Or maybe even just as a final fuck you.

He died 3 years after.

He tried to stay sober, he wanted to bring back Ben and Dave. As things got worse and worse, all he wanted was a hug from someone he loved. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bring back either.

Towards the end, he’s started to forget Dave. What he looked like, how he sounded, how he felt. It got lost and Klaus thought, fuck it, if he was forgetting it anyway he might as well pop a pill. It wouldn’t do much harm. But one became two which became five which became more. And Ben was getting sick of his shit.

But Ben didn’t understand! Being sober was so hard. And the voices only seemed to get louder. And his body ached. And he didn’t want to be lonely. His family didn’t want him and all he had left were his friends- more acquaintances than friends. But even still, they were the only company he had- and in their company he did what they did. His willpower was weak- it was smashed to bits by loneliness and the want to feel something. So he did what he did. Drank, smoked, fucked. Whatever.

Klaus was back to being homeless, addicted, poor. He got arrested a few times- for possession, public intoxication, solicitation. It got to a point where he couldn’t even look Ben in the eye anymore, not after everything he’d watched him do. Not that he’d have to for long. They fell out- Ben was so tired of seeing Klaus pull all the stunts he did, wasting his life while he still had one to live. So Klaus told him that if he didn’t like seeing it, he could leave. He could fuck right off.

And he did. To prove a point. He was planning to come back, of course. Only he planned a few days too late. He was too late.

Klaus died how he felt- completely alone. In an alley near his dealer and pimp. Bruised knees and cold. He was found by a homeless guy a few days later.

The funeral was a mess. Ben and Klaus watched on. Considering he was the most flamboyant of the group, he had hoped the others would have honoured that. But they were there, back at the academy, all in black. Bleak and miserable bastards.

Ben had an arm wrapped around Klaus. But Klaus didn't need comforting. He was used to death. Sure it took a while to get used to, and he had to convince God that he’d stop being so awful so he could stay in Heaven with Ben. He almost pushed that little girl off her bike, but he restrained himself.

Luther had an arm wrapped around Allison, who had her face buried into his chest. She was in tears- hollywood tears, of course. Delicate and pretty. She wished she was a better sister. Sure she changed and was nicer to Vanya, but she wished she’d been nicer to all of them. Now there were only five left and she’d be damned if this shit happened again. Luther was just thinking about how he was a shit number one. Two of his siblings had died. How could he have let that happen. And Luther felt guilty because he felt some relief after Klaus had gone- one less liability. At one point in life he even wished it. And now he can’t take that wish back.

Vanya kept an arm wrapped around Five- for her sake or his, Klaus wasn’t sure. But both kept an impassive look on their face as they stared where Klaus’ ashes had been poured before being carried away with the wind. Vanya felt selfish. She was glad with the attention she was finally getting, and she became wrapped up in it. She should have noticed. She had spent so long on the outside, she should have noticed when someone else had been pushed there. And Five was just sorry he couldn't save Klaus. Yes they managed to save the world, and logic told him the weight of the world outweighed one person. But he loved his family. Even if he didn't always show it. And he was sorry that it had gotten that much smaller.

Diego stood alone. Staring but unseeing. His last encounter with Klaus played in a loop in his mind. He regretted everything. He’d had this weird bond with Klaus, but he loved him. He made sure to check up on him. He tried to take care of him. But he let his anger get the best of him that day. He wished he hadn’t. And he wished he’d checked up on him and hadn’t let his anger get in the way. Diego was sorry. So sorry. They all were.

#klaus hargreaves #The Umbrella Academy #diego hargreaves #Allison Hargreeves #luther hargreeves #number five #ben hargreeves #fanfic #sad #sad fic

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knjredwluv · 5 years

Text

Red. [1]

Red (n.)

Red could signify the color of love, passion, determination, and strength. Red could also signify blood, fire, war, desire and energy. Red is an emotionally intense color.

Title: Red

Words: 4.7k

AU: Yandere/Obssessive relationship

Characters: Jungkook x Reader. Hoseok x Reader. OT7.

Warnings: 17+ explicit language, angst!angst!angst!, slight implications of smut, some fluff and soft moments (super fucking sappy), noona kink (if you squint reaaaaally hard), yandere/obsessive relationship (this isnt a healthy relationship and i dont promote any of this), mentions of killing, hallucinations, has very descriptive angst!!

Summary: “After the things that happened, you decided to start anew. Everything was how you thought it would be; it was simple but perfect–until you saw your name on a black envelope. Out of curiosity, you opened it; and now, you wish you didn’t.”

LIST FOR RED

CHAPTER 1

You held your phone to your ear using your shoulder. You huffed as you tried to multi-task being on the phone, walking to class and carrying a shoulder bag, laptop, books and a cup of coffee in your arms. “Can you please just do it? I have to head back to Jimin’s because he left his wallet.”

“____, as much as I love you, I will not go to your brother’s house without you. You know the look he gives me for being with you already– and you want me to go there to drop off your boxes for you.” You chuckled as he rambled and emphasized on the task you requested him to do.

“Babe, that’s just how he looks at everyone, okay? And plus, you’re bigger than him. I remember having a man for a boyfriend not a baby.” you giggle as you teased him.

“For fucks sake, ____, Your brother is a fucking cop. He looks like he hates me and he is a licensed official who can put me behind bars for, I don’t know, laughing at you when you do some stupid shit” You laugh at this because you know you’re one hell of a klutz.

“I’ll give you a blowjob if you do it” You whispered into the phone, nonchalantly. As expected, there is a small pause until you heard a groan.

“Fine, I’ll do it. You owe me big time, baby girl.”

You ended the call and texted your brother saying that Jungkook is heading over to drop off your things for your parents.

—

Bro

[12:34] Y/N: yoon

[12:34] Y/N: Jk is heading over there to bring my stuff

[12:35] Y/N: u home right?

[12:37] Bro: Nah

[12:37] Bro: not home work called but Mina is home she shuld be awake

[12:38] Y/N: Mkay ill tell him

[12:40] Bro: 👍🏻

—

Jeon♡

[12:45] Y/N: Hes not home but Mina is

[12:47] Jeon♡: Ok yessssss

[12:47] Jeon♡: but im still expecting something 👀

[12:47] Y/N: fck outta here jeon and do what u gotta do

[12:47] Jeon♡: Damn ok live u

[12:47] Jeon♡: love*** ♥️♥️

[12:48] Y/N: 🥰 love you 2

—

You shoved your phone in your bag and walked to the library. The weather was really nice. it complimented how you were dressed up for today.

Thank God, it was just for today.

Your Art Club meeting is really gonna screw you up. You really hope you ace this meeting since you stayed up all night making the power point. You’re also drowning yourself in caffeine and hoping it doesn’t spill on your new blouse. The branded shirt costed you more than your monthly grocery; and it’s not like you find it a hassle to be stylish but it’s definitely something different. It’s way different than the go-to vans and a pair of jeans with the Uni’s hoodie. Oh how you wished that’s what you were wearing right now.

After the meeting, you walked up the steps and opened the door to the University’s library. You were greeted by Namjoon, who was on his way out.

“Hey, ____. What brings you here? It isn’t Thursday today, is it?” He asked you casually while checking his Gold Casio watch. Namjoon is used to your frequent visits to the library. After working in the library for 4 out of 5 years of his Uni life, he’s accustomed to seeing you on the same desk, at the second floor, by the window. Sometimes, you’re caught doing homework, checking out Literature books or books of Art History, or probably just reading a comic book or webtoon that Jungkook told you about.

“Oh no, It’s Tuesday but I just needed to catch up with some work” accidentally bumping your elbow to the door causing you to almost drop your books but luckily, Namjoon’s instincts were fast. You quietly thanked him. “I got math to do”

“Well then,” He turned and waved “Ms. Ryu is expecting me. Good luck with math”

“Alrightie, see ya”

You walked to your usual spot and placed your laptop on the desk. You opened it and typed in the password. You grinned at the screensaver.

Oh god, it never fails to make you smile.

It was a screenshotted picture of Jungkook with ice cream of his face on your second date. It was a funny memory if you recall what happened.

“Stopppp, you’re going too hard. I might fly up” You said giggling and holding on the seesaw like it meant your life depended on it. Technically, it kind of did.

“Okay okay, i’m sorry” he said laughing at how you looked.

Both of you continued using the seesaw while casually talking about nonsense like what if aliens came and decided to rule Earth or if there was a zombie apocalypse, what you would do.

“Now that I think about it, I would find it weird that there’s two grown adults using a seesaw and eating ice cream– BUT CUTE” saying it with emphasis.

“Your right, it’s not something you see everyday” He shrugged and laughed and went back to lick his ice cream.

“Yeah, you don’t see muscle pig tatted good looking e-boy eating ice cream while using a seesaw, everyday” You teasingly said.

“What was that?” He said looking at you. You knew that he heard because his ears were starting to turn red but it didn’t stop his lips altering to a smile hearing the compliment. It was probably even boosting his ego hearing that the girl he likes called him good looking. He knew that and he always, mentally, thanked his parents and the Man above for mixing his genes well.

“Huh?” biting your lip, smiling and trying not to laugh “Oh nothing” shaking your head. You took out your phone to take a snapchat video of him holding onto the seesaw with his ice cream cone on the other hand.

He urged you to repeat it, not because of what you said, but because of how the blush crept up your face as you said it. He noticed how red your cheeks has gotten and how you adorable it is to see you this flustered.

“Say it” he whined, exaggerating the act knowing that he was being recorded. He bounced a little hard on the seesaw which caused you to jump a little. He smirked at your shocked look.

“Hmm, You wanna play that game huh?” Still taking a video, you playfully copied what he did to you which caused him to jump a little forward and the ice cream on his hand, now on the ground. His chin and mouth covered in with the dessert and his black shirt having evidence of the incident.

“Awwww Jungkook, I’m sorry” You cooed and pouting at him. You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight in front of you as you walked towards him, zooming into his face. He had a fake pout and a slight smile. Putting your phone at the back of your pocket, you took the napkin from around your cone and started to wipe his chin.

“I’m so sowwyyy”

He stared at you mischievously. You glanced into his eyes and continued to wipe his chin. He pulled your wrist down and held the sides of your face and gave you a peck on the lips. You gasp at the sudden kiss but also the feeling of the sticky sugar treat around your mouth.

“It’s okay, now we’re even” He said laughing at you, with the little pout on your face.

You smile at the memory. It reminds you how lucky you got when meeting Jungkook because not only is he caring, smart and loving, he can also be a dickhead who doesn’t take people’s shit. The duality, right? But hey, with the exception of your brother, Yoongi. He kind of isn’t ashamed to admit to you that your brother is quite intimidating and, sometimes, scare him. You’re pretty sure your brother also enjoys seeing Jungkook shit his pants whenever he sees him. His career choice, of being a police officer just adds up to the thrill of it. Although, Jungkook could be a bit younger than you, it doesn’t stop Yoongi from being protective of you. But that’s only if he is judging based on façade. Besides, he’s known Jungkook for long enough to know that he’s a keeper.

The loud sound of a book falling by the computer area brought you back to reality. You sighed and took out your math handout and begin on working out the problems.

“Now back to this shit.” You muttered. You didn’t mind doing your assignments and homework but what really irked you is that your professor never collects it. It was just the usual. He gives out assignments, expects you to do them and then pop quiz at the end of the month.

Taking a break, you leaned back into the chair and took a sip of the ice coffee you brought. You looked around while stretching and cracked your joints. It sent you a wave of relief throughout your body after solving, for God knows how long, algebra equations. You checked your phone and realized you’ve been sitting down, doing your work for 47 mins.

You stared out the window enjoying the scenery of the field and the school’s garden. What caught your eye is a group walking to the parking lot, but in this group you saw someone who thought would be familiar. You tilted your head trying to identify this person. It made you move closer to the window and you sat there with your chin on your hand, squinting your eyes for better focus. It was as if you were burning holes into this person’s back. Ironically, It was like he felt the heat behind him and he turned around. He turned around to face who could be his friends. Seeing his face, it sent chills down your spine. Blinking and shaking your head, thinking that you could be hallucinating or day-dreaming. You looked up again and couldn’t make out who they were because their friends were blocking the one who you wanted to see. Your mind became blank once again and you looked at your ice coffee.

“I really shouldn’t be drinking you, you’re starting to make me see things” you thought.

You thought that it could be the coffee. It’s already your 4th cup for the day. Although, at this rate, you don’t know if your body is immune to it because you still feel sluggish as you did this morning. You hold your head with both hands, elbows on the table, feeling a slight headache. It’s like feeling all your brain cells dying because of the caffeine overdose. You decided to shake it off and continue doing your work.

You were startled when the chair in front of you and beside you was pulled open and there sat Jimin and Taehyung. Your hands placed on your chest, you swore you that you just let out a loud shriek causing people to look at your direction.

“What the fu– don’t just randomly do that you shitheads” You whisper-yelled. You try to recover from the sudden appearance of the playful couple.

“We saw you here, hope you don’t mind we come and join you on your little study sesh”

“Not at all” You said “Oh yeah, here,” You searched in your bag for the thick leather wallet and handed it to him “Good thing you came”

"Thought you would be in class?” You asked while he shoves his wallet at the back of his pocket

“Well we finished early, Mr. Xing said he’s gonna call off for the day”

“Yeah, Poor man, been coughing all day and couldn’t sound out a syllable”

“What’s up, ____. Looking like you were shitting bricks before we gave you reason to shit bricks. What is that?” He came closer to check the assignment I was doing and to his dismay, it was math.

“Oou, well, that explains, but you good?”

“Yeah, head hurts and was thinking ‘bout some things” you mumbled.

“Well, you gotta stop overthinking, it gives you wrinkles. ‘N you know what they say about wrinkles~ they’re a sign of old age~”

“Wow, Thanks Tae” You rolled your eyes, chuckling at the two. You stayed in the library with Jimin and Taehyung talking and doing assignments and projects.

Now, you are found in Jimin’s car, releasing stress by singing your souls out to 2000s R&B. You insisted that you walk but, of course, he didn’t take no for an answer.

You were born in Daegu but your family moved to Seoul when you and Yoongi were very young. A few years ago, you decided to move in with your brother and his wife. Despite being born in the area, you felt out of place until you met Jimin and Taehyung. They were your the first set of friends that you met when you moved to Daegu. It was an easy friendship because not only that they attended DAU, Daegu Arts University, you three have the same Art History class. You’re not gonna lie but you might have had the slightest crush on Jimin during first year of Uni–that was until you find out the two were together. Hey, it didn’t hurt though, the two were like soulmates.

Checking your phone, you saw time was only 4:27 PM. You sighed realizing that you’ll have the apartment to yourself until Jungkook comes home, from his shift at the tattoo parlour, later tonight.

He was already working there when you met him. He moved away from Busan to pursue his dream in music. He asked his parents if he could move to Daegu and attend DAU. Of course, it took a toll on his parents but they let him do what he wanted. The best thing they could do was support their son on his dream; He aced a job at a tattoo parlour and he has little shows at the bars downtown, all while he was studying. He realized that it gave him satisfaction and he, secretly, took a break from school–which now, it led to him being a full-time worker at the well-known tattoo parlour. He finds that it’s nothing different if he would have finished; seeing that he didn’t need to be a college graduate to get his job. Despite those circumstances, his creativity and love for Art and Music gets him paid; and that’s what matters to him and you–that he’s happy.

“Alright,” You shut the door and tapped on the trunk “thanks boys, see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, bye, _____. Sleep well tonight, You look too sleep deprived”

“I will, drive safe, text me when you’re home”

You walked up the stairs and reached your apartment. You entered the code of the door’s lock and the door makes sound, signaling you that the doors open. You entered, taking off your shoes and hanging your coat on the coat rack. Walking towards the living room, you put your bag on the ground next to the counter which separates the living room and kitchen. Plopping down on the couch, you sighed in relief of the feeling being home and laying at the soft surface. You focused on listening to the humming of the air conditioner and then you felt your eyelids becoming heavy with every tick of the clock.

You were awoken by the smell of food and it made you realize how hungry you were; smelling the food definitely made your stomach growl that you felt the strong vibrations. You sat up and looked around and adjusted your vision to the light. You turned around and saw Jungkook’s back. You stood up and quickly stretched and walked towards him. As you approached him, he turned around and noticed your sleepy figure about to engulf him, which was intended to be a back hug.

“Hi sleepy” He says. He placed the spoon and tupperware on the counter, hugged you back in return and left a kiss on your temple. You hummed and just hugged him tighter. Inhaling his scent of body soap and aftershave.

“Mina gave me some food when I went over there; She said you should try it and gave us a lot of it” You hummed in response.

“What is it?” Your voice husky from sleeping

“It’s a chicken stew. C’mon, get ready we’ll have dinner in a few, I’m already making rice”

“I wanna stay like this still” Your hold became tighter and he just rubbed your back. Your hunger was replaced by the feeling of ease and comfort in his embrace. You moved your face from his chest and faced him with your eyes closed and smiled at him.

“Don’t forget your little promise, baby.” He said while placing kisses all over your face. His hands sliding up and down your back and moved to grope your ass, giving it a little slap. Your eyes opened and fake disappointment washed over you.

“I really thought it was going to be a sweet moment, Jeon. You really had-” He cut you with a peck on the lips.“-to say that.” He chuckled.

“C’mon, Noona, I can be really sweet.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“Oh my god, you’re really fucking lucky I’m a sub or else, i would have-” You cut yourself off and you smirked at him.

“Hm, feisty now, isn’t she?” You remove yourself from him and grab a cup to drink a glass of water.

“I’m sorry, JK. I’m exhausted today. I promise, on date night, okay?”

“Something happened today? I saw how busted you look on the couch when I came home– didn’t wanna wake you until I finished heating up the food” Now it was his turn to hug you first. He sat on the stool and pulled you by your shirt and wrapped his arms around your waist. He stared at you with his doe eyes until you finished drinking and placing the glass on the counter.

“Just a club meeting but I didn’t sleep last night. I had to finish the powerpoint and afterwards, I went to the library to finish off somethin’. Jimin and Tae was with me though, no worries. They dropped me home too so.” You sighed and look at him.

“That was the meeting you were talking about right? How was it? How’d it go?” He asked

“Remember the man I told you about?” He hummed in response “Well, he seemed really impressed with my presentation and the art display we made and he spoke about visiting again,” You began playing with the long strands of his fluffy, wavy hair “He said that he’ll think about doing a workshop, all expenses paid, for learning art techniques and maybe even visiting the national museum”

“I’m proud of you, ____. I know you worked hard for that. You know, being the Co-President of the Art Club.” He gushes as he rubbed circle with his thumb on your waist.

“Oh my– stop, let me get changed” You tapped his chest and leaned forward to peck his nose.

You walked out the kitchen and headed to the bedroom and stripped to your underwear. You grabbed a towel heading to the bathroom for a quick shower. You gargled with some mouthwash and change into some boy shorts and Jungkook’s oversized sweatshirt.

---------

“____, the table’s ready!”

“Coming, coming!”

You skipped to the kitchen and sat on the high stool opposite of Jungkook’s. You both ate dinner and shoving the last chunk of carrot into your mouth, you stacked the dishes and placed them in the sink.

“Are you scheduled to play tonight?” You asked turned your head to him as you washed the utensils.

“Yeah, Hyung said to meet at the subway. I’ll probably head out at around 30 35 mins from now?” He said questioningly, turning to look at the wall clock. It was currently 7:50 PM.

“Yup, in 30 mins or so– oh and please don’t wait up for me again. Am not sure when I’m coming but I’ll come home before it hits 1, okay?” He informs you while he removes his top and heads to the bathroom.

A little story of Jungkook and Seokjin’s relationship, Seokjin is Jungkook’s good friend who helped him move to Daegu. Jungkook and Seokjin were pretty much like roommates before you came into the picture. Besides being roommates, the pair were performers at the local bar.

That’s also how you met Jungkook. You saw him and Seokjin performing a ballad when you were with your group of friends. Eunbi, your close friend and also Seokjin’s girlfriend, introduced you to them that same night. You thought he was very attractive–like duh, who wouldn’t? You both talked and got to know some things about each other and it led to both of you exchanging numbers, texting often, meeting up for coffee or lunch. Several months later, that’s when he decided to ask you to make it official. You would visit their apartment often; it can be whenever they practiced ballads and their self-composed songs or you guys decide to have a movie night with Seokjin and Eunbi. For others, it may sound like the relationship was rushed for deciding to live together 1 year and 3 months into the relationship. It didn’t feel wrong though–as cliche as it sounds. You felt that this new start was something just like you imagined it would be.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Jungkook bent down to grab his bag that was next to you and to kiss your forehead.

“I’m heading out.” He slings the big black backpack on and walked towards the door. He stood by the front of the door struggling to put on his sneakers. “Sleep early my love” he sang stretching out each syllable. You giggled at the soft curse he did when he nearly stumbled over the slippers behind him.

“Take care,” You turned your head to look at him and to surprise you noticed his outfit. “Oh my.. Please tell me you have a light shirt in your bag. You really gotta stop wearing all black. It’s too dark outside kook. Trust me, I’ll really buy you some twinkle toes” You said worriedly, remembering the incident that almost happened a few days ago. Stupid driver + Late night + Boyfriend in dark clothing + Walking = Not a good combination.

“Don’t worry, _____. Look, I got the shoes with the light reflectors. It’s not twinkle toes but it’s something” He smugly said with hands on his hips. You couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“Okay, love you, text me if anything. Go sleep early for real, it’s an order”

“Love you too” You said sending him a flying kiss, to which he pretended to catch and smack on his cheek before he closed the door.

You decided to get ready for bed. You turned off the lights in the living room, kitchen and the mini hallway. You walked in the bathroom to do your skin care and brush your teeth. You walked in the bedroom while using your phone, checking for updates on your social media. Peeling the covers open, you laid down and tucked yourself in. You set an early alarm for the next day and put your phone down. You stared at the wall, deep in thought. You were reminded of the familiar face you saw when you were at the library. Yes, it’s been almost roughly 5 years but sometimes you can’t help but remember the painful memories. It was still vivid to you. You rubbed your face with your hands.

“I can’t believe you would do something like that. Do you not trust me?”

“___, What the fuck are you talking about? I trust you! Why are yo-” You scoffed.

“What do you mean, what the fuck I’m talking about, you know damn well what the fuck I’m talking about.” You turned to face him.

“____.” He calmly looks at you and held your arm but you pulled away.

“Why the fuck would you send threats to my classmate? I told you we were just doing a project and it’s not like we were alone… I don’t even know him that well for you to accuse me of something”

“I didn’t even accuse you of anything, ___. Stop saying shit right now.” He rolled his eyes and turned away from you. You looked at him is disbelief.

“So texting someone like ‘hey, im ___’s boyfriend, and i need you to back tf away from her. I see the way you look at her’ blah blah blah and ‘if not, i know where you live and i swear ill torture tf outta you’ is not a threat? You’re already accusing me and someone else for doing something we didn’t do” He noticed your rage and turned around and walked towards you.

“___, It’s not like that, i prom-” You cut him off

“And you pulled a knife on him…” You say softly.

“W-what? H-how… What are you saying right now, ___. You sound stupid” There was a pregnant pause until you couldn’t hold back a hiccup. Your tears running down your face.

“I saw you. In the parking lot. After you dropped me off, I was gonna run after you when I saw that I left my bottle behind and there you were…” You looked up at him with glossy eyes

“There was my fucking boyfriend with a knife on my classma–” You jokingly said, with enthusiasm, as you turned around waving your arms towards your boyfriend as if you were talking to an audience. You nervously chuckled at the situation. You were in disbelief that you couldn’t even finish your sentence. You choked back the sob.

That night was when you realized your boyfriend was fucking crazy. He was out of his mind. It was just like what those movies would talk about when the lead character has a girlfriend and she’s literally crazy; doing anything to get his attention. Except it was the opposite, it was him and definitely not you. What scares you the most is that, it happened, not twice, but more than 5 times. It’s not like how the movie depicts it to be anymore. It’s reality and much more scarier than that. He doesn’t know but you know he’s the one who stares at you from across the room of where you sat. You know, that he’s the reason why some people don’t talk to you the way they used to. It was all because of him your life started to feel like a living hell.

You shook the memories away. You checked your phone. 9:39 PM.

“That’s the past” You muttered to yourself.

“That’s way in the past, ___. You’re here now, Almost 5 years. You’re just hallucinating this again” You sighed. You reached to the nightstand and drank some water. You opened the voice recording app on your phone and clicked on the file that Jungkook made.

He knows about your story. He knows about everything. He knows why you moved and why you decided to change your life; and you loved how supportive he was of it. You can’t stress enough how thankful you are to be with someone like Jungkook.

File: a_lullaby_for_my_someone.mp3

“Hi, _____” His clear voice filling the quiet room “,I know you aren’t sleeping right now–and that explains why you turned to this recording, Ha. Anyways, That’s why I made this very special lullaby for you. Here’s my rendition to our song…”

And that’s when he started strumming the guitar.

Put your head on my shoulder

Hold me in your arms, baby

You placed your phone on his side of the bed and hugged a pillow. Finally adjusting your sleeping position, you closed your eyes and your previous thoughts were pushed aside as you focus on your boyfriend’s singing

Squeeze me oh so tight

Show me that you love me too

Your breathing becoming slower and free from panic

Put your lips next to mine, dear

Won’t you kiss me once, baby

Just a kiss goodnight, maybe

You and I will fall in love

20 notes · View notes

griffinwriting · 5 years

Text

1.The Bank Job

Tobias Clarke wasn’t a bad kid. Of course, it really depended on who you asked and what their standards were. That being said, he wasn’t the worst kid. He certainly knew of kids that were a lot worse than him, but he was no saint.

He was dealing with the cards that were dealt to him, at least that’s what he kept telling himself. He had to admit that he knew jack-shit about card games and would probably lose a lot of them. But he did know if there was a shitty hand to be dealt, it was this one.

Tobias crumpled the paper fast food bag and tossed it in the bin, he found the old tv remote and switched it on, he always needed some background noise to distract him.

His apartment was nothing of the sort, not an actual apartment at all. It was a couple of cosy rooms built out of leftover building materials. It sat on the fifth floor of an old and abandoned New York City building, mid-construction when abandoned. The apartments he visited when he was house-hunting were all amazing but the people asked too many questions and wouldn’t take a seventeen-year-old who looked like he had slept in an alleyway seriously. Although they had a point not to, back then he was sleeping in the subway.

So he found the abandoned building, paid off the old man who owned it and made a few shoddy shacks, it was home.

Tobias ruffled through his drawer and picked out two leather duffel bags. He plopped them on the table and went to find his other belongings, stopping before the wall. The wall was plastered with pictures and posters, newspaper articles and building schematics.

He bit his lip, pondering if he should really go through with it.

Dealing with the shitty hand dealt to me.

Of course, robbing a bank is probably not the best way to deal with your problems. But Tobias had run out of options, and he hadn’t seen Robin in a while.

This was going to be different from normal bank heists though, he placed his car keys in the duffel bags, phone, headphones and extra cash just in case, but no guns. No one was going to be hurt and the bank itself was owned by the city’s own corrupt mayor, the one that had shut down businesses for the promise of another mall. So really no harm done.

Tobias switched between channels until he found the news and went to get changed, the sound carrying over from the living room.

The news anchor looked distraught as she read from the teleprompter.

Another witness of supernatural this morning as one woman claims to have seen an African American youth in the South Bronx at approximately eight AM. The woman claims the teenager disappeared in front of her eyes before reappearing behind her, he appeared to teleport a few more times before finally leaving the witness. This is the sixth report of supernatural abilities in the last seven months, forcing some people to take the streets in panic. The US government has not issued any statement regarding this surge in the supernatural which has angered a lot of people, this just begs the questions. Is the government as clueless as the public? When will the supernaturals start hurting people? Are we safe?

More on this after the break.

Tobias muttered under his breath as he flicked it off.

Fearmongering media. He rolled his eyes.

He grabbed the duffel bags and left down the elevator. The Brooklyn air was filled with the smells and sounds of the city, mostly just a lot of traffic.

Tobias rounded the corner to see a familiar face.

Emily stood by his rusted 78 Chevy. Her blonde hair curved around her slender face, her lanky figure hugged by the baggy clothes she wore, her favourite hoodie almost three sizes too big for her.

“Tobias.”

Shit.

“How the hell did you find me?” he asked.

“I have a phone Toby, it wasn’t that hard,” she responded.

He chuckled and held her in a tight hug, “I have missed you Em. How’s it been?”

She thrust her hands into her pockets and her face deadened.

“Shit. Jones is furious, been calling cops all over to find you. The kids are scared, keep askin’ bout you.”

Tobias unlocked the Chevy and thrust the duffel bags in, a knot formed in his chest. The kid's faces flashed through his mind and a pang of guilt rushed through him.

“I’m sorry for leaving like that, I uhh… needed to get out.”

They both went silent, Emily’s glassy eyes started to well but she held her composure.

“I got a couple interested,” she said, “Over in Queens, they seem serious about it.”

Tobias’ face lit up. “No way! Well, you always said you would get out.”

He smiled, “You better stay in touch right?”

“Course I will, you can’t get rid of me that easily,” she said, playing with the inhaler in her hands.

She took his phone and punched in her number, “You text me whenever you can okay? I uhh gotta get back, before anyone notices I’m gone.”

Tobias enveloped his friend in another warm hug, hoping to god it wouldn’t be the last. He smiled as she turned and walked away. He opened the car door.

“Toby…”

He turned back to her.

“Please go back. It ain't much but at least it’s a warm bed and food, the kids can’t deal with it alone and you know that. You can’t just run away to live in a construction building?”

Her voice was frail, tears running the mascara down her cheeks.

“I promise I’ll make things right,” he said nodding, he bent down and kissed her cheek. “I just need a little time.”

They said their goodbyes and Tobias climbed in the driver seat, he took a few breaths to calm himself before turning the key. He pulled out and sped down the street, the conversation still ticking at him. Once he stopped at a light he fumbled for his phone and scrolled through his playlists, music was a good distraction.

He scrolled past the Beatles and the Zepplin, and even Nirvana. Stopping at Blue Swede, he pressed and the bubbly, gorilla-like intro of ‘Hooked on a Feeling’ bounced from the speaker system.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see the kids again, or even that the house was that bad. It was just the atmosphere he hated. The disappointing soul-sucking banality that was led at the St Christophes Orphanage. Watching as kids get adopted left and right while the disabled, sick and older children are invisible. Emily and Tobias had been the only ones who looked after The Forgotten as they called themselves. There was Macy, the eleven-year-old mute who had a secret addiction to red vines. Tom the paraplegic fourteen-year-old, who even though it wasn't cool anymore, adored the power rangers. The six-year-old twins, Gabby and Danielle who could beat anyone at chess. When going up against each other the games could last hours. And seven-year-old David, type 1 diabetic but could always manage to put a smile on anyone’s face.

Emily had been there a couple months before Tobias had, her parents killed in an accident and his parents just gave him up.

No one wanted them so at the orphanage they stayed. And Tobias was sick of it, the emotional rollercoaster that goes through the kids when a family is interested. Everything seems good until they pull the rug out from under you, either the family loses interest or doesn’t have the money. Tobias and Emily had both had their souls broken before they hit puberty.

So once the opportunity presented itself, Tobias ran. He hadn't planned anything, just took what little he had and slept where he could.

But then it happened, the media had called it The Surge. Reports of teenagers gaining powers of extraordinary magnitude, all around the globe and out of the blue. Controlling elements, changing the weather, breathing fire. Just like out of a movie, except the movies never showed the dark side of superpowers, the riots, the beatings. Humans did what was true to their nature, they didn’t understand it so they fear it, they attack it.

Somehow amidst all of this, Tobias became even more invisible. But that was okay for him, now he could do whatever he wanted and no one would bother him. Peace at last.

Tobias pulled into a parking lot, the engine rumbled and spluttered to a stop and he paused the music, putting his feet up and watching.

A few moments passed and he began to wonder if it would ever come.

Maybe I’m too late? Maybe it’s not coming today?

The familiar bank logo passed on the armoured truck, it pulled into the parking lot and around to the back of the Bank of NYC.

Tobias smiled. Perfect.

He checked the time on his phone, 11:27. He stuffed his phone and headphones into his pockets and grabbed the duffel bags.

He opened the door and was flooded by the sounds of the city, the birds that sung overhead, the cab’s many horn honkings and the chattering of passersby.

He stopped in front of the bank doors and took a deep breath.

Freeze.

The bird songs stopped, their wings spread out but motionless. The chorus of cab horns went dead. The passersby as still as statues.

Not only had The Surge made him more invisible by focusing on the ones with superpowers, but no one had seen him because he was never there. At least not according to time, he could get in and out without a single second passing.

It was odd at first, he woke up and felt different. A weight that accumulated in his chest, it travelled up his spine and to his head. A tingle and then a burst of power rippled through his body. Then it was just there, a single thought, almost like an instinct.

There had been a few theories about the apocalypse from sweaty men who talked fast on the tv, the ones who could control water would create tsunamis, the ones who could shoot fire from their eyes would turn the world to ash. But Tobias didn't think the ability to stop time would harm anybody, it couldn’t end the world. All it did was make his life a little easier and for once it actually was easy.

Didn’t get any sleep? Stop time and take a nap.

Late for a train you need to get? Stop time and get to the subway.

Need to rob a bank from a corrupt government official because he’s an asshole and you need money? Stop time and rob that bank.

It was a plus four in the Uno game that was his life.

He smiled, relishing the perfection of stillness.

Fumbling in his pocket, he took his phone and plugged in the headphones. The music flooding his ears made him chuckle slightly.

The bank was nice and cool, it was busy today.

He went through a series of doors and plucked one of the teller’s security badges, swiping it on the door, the LED flashed green and let him through. The hallway was narrow but it was perfect, the bank worker pushing a cart, paralysed. The vault door, wide open.

Tobias ran past the worker, the cart full of money was enticing but would be too obvious, the vault was where he should be. With it’s round doorway over his head he continued inside, rows of safety deposit boxes lined the walls but they were all locked. Three more carts sat inside, stacks of hundred notes piled on top of them.

Tobias couldn’t help but jump with excitement.

‘I’m high on believinnn’

His hips swayed, his feet shuffled.

‘That you’re in looooooove with meeeee’

He held his phone like a microphone as he danced across the vault floor.

His grin spread even wider, he started shoving stacks into the duffel bags.

Five thousand. Hundred thousand. Half a million.

Holy shit.

Soon his duffel bag was full, he reached for the second but stopped.

Don’t be too greedy, there’s still the second bank.

That being said, Tobias wasn’t convinced. He was staring at more money than he’d ever hope to spend.

Most people would stare at the mountain of cash and think about the Bahamas, private jets or the newest Ferrari. Tobias looked at it, his thoughts weren’t about extravagance. His mind flooded with needs. A lifetime of insulin for David, a better wheelchair for Tom, food for the rest of his life, a house for him and the kids. He turned away from the cart.

Half a million was all he needed, so half a million was all he took.

He ran back out, past the worker and back to the bank teller, placing the security card back in her pocket. The duffel bag was heavy, but he didn’t mind.

His body flowed with adrenaline as he skipped his way outside. He flitted back to his car and shoved the bags in, he sat down and closed the door.

Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes.

Go.

The chorus of cab horns played again and the passersby resumed their walking and chattering. Tobias waited, expecting the worst.

After a moment he grinned again. No sirens.

He started the car again and the engine roared to life, as did the speakers. This time it was Queen’s ‘Another one bites the dust’. The car’s clock ticked from 11:27 to 11:28.

He drummed his fingers on the wheel to the beat, screaming the lyrics at the top of his lungs as the joy almost burst out of him.

He sped down the road grinning to himself.

A minute later he took a right and pulled into the parking lot of his favourite place in Brooklyn, Ivan’s Ironic Ice cream. Tobias had gone there every week since he ran away and he still hadn’t found out how it’s ironic.

Freeze.

He grabbed the duffel bag and walked out into the hot sun.

The bell rang above the door as he entered, the ice cream shop was relatively big for Brooklyn. There were a couple people scattered around the tables, frozen mid-bite. Tobias chuckled as he noticed one woman whos dollop had fallen off the spoon, the drop merely suspended in the air, waiting for gravity to carry on with it’s thing. The walls were decorated with posters of ungodly portions of ice cream but he didn’t mind, he wasn’t there for the decorations.

He turned to the counter and placed the duffel bag on a table.

A brunette stood smiling behind the counter, talking to her co-worker. Her slender figure hidden behind the baggy t-shirt with the shop’s logo on it. Her blue eyes glinted in the light and brought out the sharpness of her cheekbones. The pin attached to her T-shirt read Robin.

To Tobias, she looked perfect. He would tell her that if she’d known he had existed. Not in the talked-once-at-school kind of way, but the way in that every time he came in he would stop time so she literally had never met him.

He smiled as he went behind the counter and began a concoction of flavours to die for, a ball of mint choc chip, some banana pecan and maybe a touch of caramel sauce with a sprinkle of chocolate chips.

Tobias had been experimenting with combinations but had found this to be the best, he never actually paid for the ice cream directly. First, he’d have to calculate how much he owed and then he’d have to put it in the register. That just seemed like too much of a fuss for one ice cream. Instead, he placed down his pot and plucked a stack from the duffel bag. He opens up the black box labelled ‘tips’ and shoves in the whole stack.

Tobias figured it was more than fair for a struggling Brooklyn business and besides, Robin probably needed it for something.

He sat and ate his well earned treat listening to the likes of Elton John and ABBA, although he did get up and dance a few times as well. Once he finished, he turned to leave but noticed something.

A girl sat in the corner, her mascara painted down her cheeks as she stared at the phone that lit her face. Tobias wondered over, curious.

She wore a face of pain and Tobias couldn’t help but look at the phone. It was a string of texts and the contact had a heart emoji, but the last text stood out to him.

‘It’s not you, it’s me.’

“Ohh what a dick,” said Tobias, shaking his head. “Is he seriously using that bullshit?”

A split second decision led him to search for a pen, he came back with a sharpie and another stack of hundreds in hand.

In his messy handwriting he scribbled.

I’m Sorry Darling,

you deserve better than him.

XXX

He fumbled around her jacket and stuck it in her inside pocket.

With a new sense of having done the right thing, he nodded everyone goodbye and left.

He climbed back in the car and laughed to himself.

Go.

The long line of traffic behind him began it’s steady shuffle again and he joined the line, with a bag of money and speakers blasting. It had been a rather succesful morning, but that did not deter Tobias from checking out the second bank, no harm in it if no one would know he’d been there.

He made his way through the painfully slow traffic until he found it.

The building was a glass fortress, it’s thick walls an architectual beauty. Once the traffic cleared for him to take the turning, he veered off and into the parking lot.

Freeze.

He crept the car slowly around the building, and found the back door. The Bank usually kept that locked and it would’ve been, had one of the workers not been holding it open on his smoke break.

Tobias grinned, it was almost too easy. He grabbed the empty duffel bag and left the car in park, with music blasting in his ears he jumped up the stairs and over tot he worker.

The name tag was a jumble of letters that could have read Jerry, but Tobias had no idea. The cigarette he held to his mouth had a warm glow to it, Tobias flicked it and it soared through the air and landed on the ground below.

“You know Jerry I’m saving you in the long run,” he said patting him on the shoulder and moving on past him.

The inside of the bank was a series of long corridors that confused Tobias, it looked easier on paper. But eventually he found himself going through a door, the right door.

Then he walked into the truck bay, where no more than ten workers were unloading three armoured cars. Tobias’ face lit up. He rushed to them, plucking up stacks of hundreds here and there. He hopped up to the back of a truck and looked around, half was money and the other half was filled with mountains of white bags. Tobias poked the bags and felt it was soft.

I can do without the cocaine. He thought to himself, turning back to the money.

With another bag full he hopped out and was filled with joy, his hands almost shaking.

After rearranging a few stacks to make it look like nothing had been tampered with, he stood back and looked at his work.

The next song came through his headphones.

Queen, ‘Don’t stop me now’.

Tobias leapt back through the doorway, prancing his way down the corridor.

His feet skipping on the carpeted floor.

Don’t

Stop

Dancing with a bag of over half a million dollars strapped to your back is a very difficult feat to achieve yet he did it, his body swaying from the office and into the lobby. Kicking doors open and spinning through them.

“Oh, Oh, Ohhh Explooooode!” he screamed, weaving through the still people.

It felt good to win. It felt like his life was actually going to get better.

He hadn’t just won poker, he’d taken the whole damn casino.

He clicked his fingers, the wire of his headphones flinging along with the sway of his head.

He closed his eyes, even with his singing every word his smile was as strong as ever.

He was high, the power, the music, the money. It was exhilarating.

“HEY!”

He froze. His eyes opened, a girl stood the other side of the room, she was moving.

He yanked out the headphones.

Did I start time again?

The people around him still paralyzed, motionless.

But this girl walked towards him.

Go.

“Who the hell are you?” she screeched.

Freeze.

“And what the fuck is going on?”

Tobias clicked his fingers along with his powers, turning it off and on again.

His stomach turned, “What?”

“Ww...WHAT?” he shouted.

Freeze.

The girl stared at him in amazement.

He stared back in disbelief. This couldn’t happen, it was impossible.

“Ohh fuck.”

Tobias did the only thing he could think of.

He turned and bolted.

#writing #wip #first chapter

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blackaquokat · 5 years

Text

Bruised Hearts

Fandom: WKM

Pairing: DAtective (Abe x Y/N District Attorney)

Summary: In which an innocent outing turns into a fist fight and the fall out leads to an unexpected consequence.

(Or, alternatively, the author attempts to write in another character with mixed results.)

A/N: Hey guess what? I didn’t forget about this, but I had three different drafts and hated each of them until I finally powered through this one. I ended up going with suggestions by @beereblogsstuff , @dontworryaboutanything , and @skidspace but I did love ALL the suggestions in my inbox, so I will be tackling them at later dates. Something to note: this won’t be canon in Law & Disorder. Instead, this will be part of a different one which will be more in line with the canon suggested in Wilford Motherloving Warfstache. Take from that what you will.

(Spot the Ocean’s 11 Reference in this piece.)

Now, without further ado, here is the DAtective Installment of my 200 Follower Celebration works!

Oo00oO

“This is taking some getting used to…” his partner comments as they adjust their new glasses.

“I thought you had glasses when you were a DA?”

Abe thinks they look rather scholarly with the thick black rims framing their eyes. It’s still a bit of a shock to see his partner in modern-day wear, but…not an unpleasant shock.

Or at least it’s unpleasant in the way that a modern-clothed District Attorney sends his heart into sporadic beats of Morse code.

“I only needed them for driving before,” they answer, oblivious to the heat rushing into his neck. “Or for going to the theater. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised that death impaired my vision…”

Abe shouldn’t laugh, but he does. He also shouldn’t have this urge to grab their glasses and try them on himself, but that’s another problem entirely.

He half-heartedly protests when they drag him out of the biting cold air and into the nearest pub. “What’s going on here?”

“If I have to wear glasses on a regular basis now, then we’re damn well going to mark the start of this hell-fest with a drink.”

And they call him overdramatic.

(One time Abe announces a zombie apocalypse when a dead body twitched in front of him and suddenly he’s overdramatic. At least Wilford didn’t judge him, though he could have done without the gun waving at the time.)

While he’s on that line of thought…

“Shouldn’t we make sure Wilford hasn’t burned the apartment down?”

“It’ll be good to leave him alone a little longer, show him some responsibility, if he’s even at the apartment right now. Shot of whiskey, please,” they order from the bartender.

He orders a beer as his partner’s whiskey is placed in front of them. They banter back and forth, discuss the growing pile of cases waiting for them at home, and overall just…exist.

Together.

Even after a year since his partner’s unexpected return, and a little longer since Wilford destroyed his preconceptions of this nonsensical world they’re all trapped in, Abe still expects to wake up to an empty apartment. He still finds himself staring at his partner while they curse at the coffee pot, or when they sing whatever modern song they most recently discovered (lately it’s been an odd roulette of Beyoncé and some European metal group). Sometimes he’ll do something obnoxious like tug on the sleeves of their sweaters or ruffle their hair to get a rise out of them (which usually involves a hand-swat or a not-so-gentle elbow to his gut) to keep himself tethered to their presence.

(These moments tend to be hijacked by a randomly appearing Wilford, who either says something off the wall or does something rather insane to derail these moments. Abe only puts up with this since he wouldn’t have found the DA again if not for the psycho. He still questions as to when the term “psycho” became a term of endearment.)

He restrains himself from these actions now, since he’s already hyper-aware of how close they’re both standing next to each other at the bar, their glasses reflecting the hanging television screens and highlighting the liquid penny color in their eyes. Long before his partner lost their body and soul at the manor they looked like they’d witnessed eternity and scoffed at its depths, now they’re just tinged with an even darker awareness.

That eternity-tinged gaze is directed over his shoulder, narrowed in suspicion. “Can we help you?”

Abe turns to see three guys standing behind him. The one in the center has bloodshot eyes and keeps swaying from side to side.

(What kind of jackass gets flat-out drunk at eleven in the morning?)

“Hey, asshole, you’re in my seat,” the guy says without preamble. The two behind him do not look like they’re about to discourage him.

Abe chugs the last sip of his beer and settles it back atop the bar with a satisfying thunk. “I don’t see your name on it, bud.” He steps forward enough to keep his partner out of the jackass’s sight.

“I’d like you to move, pal.”

“Who you calling ‘pal,’ friend?”

“Who you calling ‘friend,’ jackass?!”

“Hey!” Abe jabs a finger at the guy. “You’re already ‘jackass’ in my head, we can’t both be jackasses today!”

“You son of a—”

“Ladies, ladies, you’re both pretty,” his partner suddenly interjects, treading between the two. “Please leave us alone before we all get kicked out for causing a scene,” they direct to the strangers.

Ever the attorney, his partner.

The trio of jackasses doesn’t hear the undercurrent of threat in their voice, however. The center jackass looks Abe’s partner up and down with something lewd and dismissive lined in his mouth. “Oh we’re way past that, birdie, now why don’t you back off and let the big boys hash it out? I can deal with you later.”

The word “deal” is emphasized with a shift of his eyebrows and Abe almost throws down right then and there, but his partner holds their arm out, as if sensing the direction of his thoughts.

Abe isn’t surprised when his partner stands their ground. They’ve never put up with being talked down to for long.

He is surprised when they clock the guy in the face without further verbal sparring.

The situation descends into chaos from there as Abe and the jackass’s friends join the fight with flying fists, bruised faces, and two bloody noses along with many other injuries until the bartender threatens to call the police.

Abe grabs the former District Attorney by the waist to keep them from giving one of the guys a second black eye. They fight vehemently against his hold.

“Whoa there, partner, take it easy—”

“Put me down, Abe, I got this!”

“I know you do, but why don’t we not deal with the cops today?”

Abe really shouldn’t enjoy carrying them outside and several blocks down, but he does. They’ve never been tiny, per se, but their solid form against his chest does odd things to his pulse. Their warmth also helps the initial rush of cold air pricking at his skin once again.

He finally releases them and they turn on him with an anger he’s certain could vaporize better men than he. Their glasses are askew, but somehow undamaged despite the peppered scratches on their cheek and split lip.

They jab a finger in his direction, voice going low. “Never. Carry. Me. Again.”

“Fine, but what the hell was that?” Abe demands. “Since when do you pick fights with total strangers?”

“If I recall, you were the one who almost got into that fight, I just beat you to it—”

“Don’t derail me with semantics, partner, what’s the problem?”

They cross their arms. Their knuckles are split and bleeding. “I didn’t realize I needed a license to beat the hell out of a bunch of perverted idiots.”

“C’mon, you know that’s not what I meant—”

But they’re already walking down the block again. Abe groans to himself and trails after them.

He doesn’t press for answers again, though it would be nice to have an answer for why he has a black eye right now.

He catches a glimpse of them shivering at the sudden rush of rain-threatening wind. They stifle the shaking once he catches up to their brisk pace.

At least this is familiar territory.

Abe takes his jacket off and puts it on their shoulders. He watches from the corner of his eye as they slip their arms into the sleeves.

As the rain slowly begins to trickles down around them, Abe spends far too much time wanting to take off their glasses to wipe the water off and maybe kiss their nose while he’s pushing boundaries.

Only the fear of another well-deserved elbow to his gut, or maybe even a punch to his face, prevents him from doing so.

Oo00oO

His partner doesn’t speak to him when they arrive home, but they do wrap up an ice pack for his eye. They head for the bathroom attached to the bedroom before he can try to fix up their own injuries, but not before he catches the guilt in their frown.

The urge to demand an explanation wells up again, and Abe crushes it. He can ask later, or they will tell him. He’s hoping for the latter. If he has to ask, it might mean they have no plans to bring it up themself.

And they really need to discuss this.

A quick glance around the apartment tells him that Wilford is not in, and probably has not been in for a while. Abe’s best guess is that the crazy bastard is off dancing again (when did “crazy bastard” also become a term of endearment?). So long as Abe and his partner don’t get any calls regarding any shenanigans Wilford gets up to, perhaps he and the DA can have the talk they need to have. In the meantime, he hangs up his wet jacket to dry and starts up the coffee pot because why the hell not?

A half-hour later, his partner re-enters the main room, their knuckles wrapped and the largest cut on their cheek bandaged. Their glasses rest on their nose still, smudged from a cleaning attempt it looks like. Without a word, they go sit on the couch. They pat the cushion beside them.

Abe sighs in relief. He hops over the couch and lands with a plop onto the cushions.

Before they speak, Abe blurts out, “I’m sorry.”

Their brow furrows. “I—what?”

He didn’t quite mean to jump right into this, but so long as he’s on the subject…

“You were right. I could have walked away, but I didn’t. Had you not stepped in, I definitely would have beaten the guy into a bloody pulp before you. I can’t exactly judge you for getting a head start on me. So I’m sorry for giving you a hard time about it.”

His partner taps their fingers against their forearm and shakes their head. “When I was still a lawyer, I probably would have just pulled you away and we both could have gotten out unscathed. Now…”

Abe hadn’t thought of that, but in retrospect, maybe that’s where his surprise came from. Far as he knows, they’ve only ever gotten into fistfights when no other options were available.

“Now?”

Their head tilts back to gaze at the ceiling. “Most days I still feel like I’m not here. Like I’m still trapped, like…like I still have something clawing to get out of me. When that guy looked at me the way he did…it brought back awful memories and I decided to just let it all out for a moment.” Their laugh is a bitter sound. “At the time, it felt good to let loose and finally tear into a guy without worrying about what it might do to my reputation.”

They look back at him. Their hand takes his, fingers tracing over a bruise on the back of his hand.

“I forgot, for a moment, that just because I wouldn’t necessarily be consequences for myself, didn’t mean there wouldn’t be consequences for someone else.” Their gaze is so intense Abe can barely breathe. “So I’m sorry you got hurt because I couldn’t walk away from a fight either.”

Abe should be thinking about their words, and he is, truthfully.

He remembers how uptight they were Before. Always afraid to stray off the straight and narrow the slightest bit for fear of all their hard work being undone in an instant. Even when they were undermined left and right they would keep silent, or as much as they could bear to depending on the circumstances. Abe can understand how the sudden disappearance of that intense pressure would affect them like this.

He remembers all of that.

But all he can think of now is how alive they looked when they clocked that bastard in the face. The furious fire alight in their eyes, the power of their hits, he never considered fist fights to be romantic, but then again, Abe never really had a specific type before.

Or perhaps his type has slowly taken shape into complicated former attorneys who call him out on his shit as much as they take part in it.

Abe doesn’t realize he’s moved until he’s already taken their glasses off their face and started cleaning the smudges with the bottom of his shirt. He chances a glance at his partner, who is staring at his moving hands like…well, he has no idea. A strange mix of confusion and something indefinable.

He doesn’t even try for an excuse for why he did that. And they haven’t done anything to stop him.

When he’s satisfied that the lenses are far clearer than before, Abe grins triumphantly at his handiwork, holding them up like a trophy.

His partner smiles back. There’s a bruise right on their cheekbone.

Abe means to put the glasses back onto their face, he really does. Instead he shifts closer to them, leaving enough space so they can move away if they wish to.

They don’t move.

“I will gladly have your back in any fist fights we start in the future,” he whispers. Before he can second guess himself, he pulls them in closer by the shoulder with his free hand so he can press a brief kiss to their forehead.

He intended to scurry off right after doing so, but they grab his hand and he stills. There is a long, pregnant pause.

They do not stare so much as probe deep into each other’s eyes like something out of a damn soap opera or something nonsensical and ridiculous along those lines. He wonders if they feel like their skin has been peeled away too. He wonders what they see that keeps them from breaking away from whatever this is.

Are they getting closer to him, or did he start leaning first, or is he just going crazy?

“Quite a storm out today, my friends!”

Abe and his partner jump to opposite ends of the sofa when Wilford suddenly appears, sitting on the middle cushion with his legs crossed. He’s wearing that godawful afro again. The false pink hairs are tipped with pearly raindrops.

His partner brushes their curls out of their face and clears their throat. “Hi, Wilford.”

Abe has no idea how they manage the nonchalance in their voice after the intensity of the moment five seconds before. Then again, they adapted to Wilford’s random and impossible materializing far quicker than Abe did.

“Were you out dancing?”

“Of course I was! Best way to pass a rainy day is a good disco party!”

“And the candy cane?” his partner asks.

“The what?”

They point to Wilford’s afro where, sure enough, the edge of a candy cane is sticking out.

Wilford pulls the treat out of his hair and stares at it for a moment. He shrugs and starts licking the cane, heedless of the synthetic fibers still stuck to it. “Perhaps one of Santa’s elves paid me a dance!” He declares mid-lick. “There were some lovely people there with pointed hats and striped stockings.”

“It’s October,” Abe points out. He doesn’t know why he’s still attempting to apply logic in this wherever-they-are, but it makes him feel better to try.

“An elf is an elf year round, my friend,” Wilford intones with the wisdom of an age-old scholar.

“They might have been witches, that’s all I’m saying. Wrong time of year for an elf to be hanging about.”

“Are you saying elves can’t be witches as well? My dear Abe, I wouldn’t have thought you to be so close-minded!”

“Yeah, Abe, don’t be so prejudiced,” his partner teases. “You might not get a visit from Santa otherwise.”

What the hell are they talking about right now?

His partner holds out their hand, uncaring of Wilford between them. Abe blinks and realizes he’s still holding their glasses. He hands them back sheepishly.

As they put their glasses back on, Wilford comments, “Well, look at you now, dear friend! You look like a scholar ready to prove the existence of dear old Nessie herself!”

They roll their eyes with a smile. “I appreciate that, Wilford.” They wink at Abe and he jerks his head away to hide a smirk of his own. “What are you up to now?”

“Well, now that we’re all on this couch together, I say let’s just enjoy one another’s company!”

Abe glances back to see a bowl of popcorn in Wilford’s lap, and the remote in his hand. “How the hell—?”

“Can we go to that channel that plays classic movies?” his partner asks without missing a beat. “I’ve been in a mood for something like Casablanca or Shop Around the Corner.”

“Oh, alright!” Wilford grumbles. He gestures at them wildly with the remote before switching on the television. “But I say we look for Tom and Jerry after this!”

“Sure. Now pass me the popcorn.”

Abe spares a glance at his partner again and thinks about their shattered moment. He shakes his head as a black-and-white film takes shape on the glowing television before them.

Probably for the best if he pretends there’s nothing between him and his partner. The three of them are already stuck in a world that doesn’t make sense.

Why begin one more thing he barely understands, even if it does stir up parts of him he thought were long dead?

Oo00oO

@skidspace , @peaceiplier , @wkm-detective-abe-squad , @veryobsessivefan , @lizard-in-a-skinsuit , @babymadz , @rainbowkittens97 , @peachythekeen-deactivated201810 , @statictay , @starcrossedforever87 , @dontworryaboutanything , @falseroar , @intemperantiae , @ren-mon , @memetoyoko , @soul-wolf , @musical-jim , @silver-owl413 , @sassy-in-glasses , @chelseareferenced , @sketchy-scribs-n-doods

#datective #kat writes #abe the detective #y/n district attorney #wkm #my last wkm post before nanowrimo #but more on that later

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bibliophileiz · 5 years

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I figured out my issue with the new Charmed

First I want to say I like most of these characters in the new one. I’m rooting for them and I hope they do great. I’m going to keep watching through this season because I want to know how Macy died and how she got brought back to life and I want to know who killed Marisol.

That said. There is too much crap going on this season and we are only halfway through.

At the risk of comparing this show too much to the original ... actually, fuck it. Everything about this show from its marketing to the premise asks to be compared to the original, so here goes. I know I look at the original through a nostalgic lens, but I have tried to remove that lens when looking at this new one and I am pretty convinced that in this one aspect, at least, the original Charmed was better.

A lot of things that were memorable about the original Charmed -- the romantic subplots, the conflict between the Charmed Ones and the Elders, the mom’s love triangle and reason for giving up one of her children -- all those things developed slowly over multiple seasons. Never were there two major romantic subplots going on at once, at least not in the first four seasons (which are the ones I actually remember). The Whitelighters weren’t a thing until more than halfway through the first season and the Elders were even later than that. The mom’s love triangle was introduced in one episode in Season 2 to parallel with Piper’s romantic subplot and then only picked up again when they had to retrofit it to introduce Paige after Shannen Doherty left the show. Meanwhile, the main myth arc plot of each season involved all three sisters ... if there even WAS a main myth arc plot. It was the late ‘90s, and Charmed episodes were less like Supernatural, which has season-long plots, and more like Touched By an Angel, which involved the main characters helping out one or two people per episode and then moving on to another mini plot. With some exceptions, of the episodes stood alone.

That’s not in vogue now. Television today is all about season-long plot arcs and cliffhangers and making your entire show one story -- even though TV shows are a risky medium for that type of story because you never know how many episodes you’ll get a season, if you’ll be renewed and which actors will sign back on.

Which isn’t to say it can’t be done. Veronica Mars was super good about telling complete stories in the span of a season, at least until the network micromanaged Rob Thomas into fucking it up in Season 3. Justified is the same way, as is The Hour, my favorite TV show.

The new Charmed, knowing one, that the thing to do in TV shows today is tell a story over a season and two, that all those things I mentioned previously -- the Whitelighters, the Elders, the babies given up for adoption, the romantic subplots -- are all big Charmed things, is trying jampack them all into the first season to make sure you know it’s Charmed and it is ... cluttered.

We are what -- 10, 11? -- episodes into the season and every single character -- including the Whitelighter who at this point in the original had been in like three episodes and only had magical powers in one -- have their own plots and romances. For two of those characters, the romances don’t even have anything to do with their magic plot, thus giving them a separate plot. And if these plots are all related, they’re very tenuously so. Here’s what I mean.

Macy: Romantic interest in Galvin, and it’s so far going pretty smoothly. There were bumps in the road what with him being a mortal and with her thinking he was being preyed on by a succubus or a siren or whatever his earlier girlfriend was supposed to be before she turned out to be a perfectly normal lady who just conveniently broke up with him. And there’s some issue with her being a virgin and a little unsure around guys in general. Right now they’re together and figuring out how to be a couple with everything she’s got going on. Also, Galvin’s not really supposed to know about witchy stuff and Harry keeps wanting to wipe his memory.

Macy has another plot, though, the secret back-story plot where her mother gave her to her dad to raise her as a mortal, and Macy doesn’t know why. In this last episode, Macy learned her parents kept in touch and were still in love, even to the point where they conceived Maggie, making her Macy’s full sister and Mel’s half-sister (opposite of what they’d always believed). Then at the end of last episode, it turned out that Macy’s parents did something BAD -- something they worried Macy wouldn’t forgive them for -- to bring her back from the dead. (It was at this point that I decided that, no, I would not be waiting for the show to come on Netflix to finish out the season like I’d been considering, I would be watching the next episode the night it aired.)

But also, Macy has a plot where the lab she’s working for has been pseudo-taken over by demons who have stolen all the Charmed Ones’ DNA for presumably nefarious purposes. This plot actually is tied to one of Maggie’s plots and is the closest any of these plots have to being about all three Charmed Ones.

Mel: Gets TWO romantic interests and what might turn into a love triangle, despite the fact that it was looking like her two romantic plots might not overlap. First there’s her long-time girlfriend Niko, a cop whose memory Mel ends up having to erase for Niko’s safety -- a nice tragic romance trope which usually stops the memory-less character’s plot cold. Now Mel is falling for Jada, a cool-ass witch who works for a secret, possibly-nefarious, possibly just politically and philosophically different from the Elders witch organization which has a cool name that I forget. But wait -- there’s more! It turns out, after having her memory wiped, Niko became a private investigator hired by Jada’s family to save her from the “cult” she’s joined. Remember what I said about memory erasure usually stopping the character’s plot cold?

At least Mel’s romantic subplots tie into her actual plots, and at least Mel gets character points for seeming to be the only character who is actually interested in finding out who killed their mom. She first starts to infiltrate Jada’s witchy organization on the Elders’ orders when they all think Jada’s organization might have had a hand in Mom’s death. Now Jada says her mom was actually a part of the organization, which is also trying to figure out who killed her. Mel is secretly working with Jada, without telling the Elders, Harry or even Mel’s sisters (unless that came up in another episode and I totally forgot about it while trying to keep track of all these other plots).

Harry: Harry’s romantic interest is Charity, an Elder. It’s a little unclear what exactly Elders are in this version of the Charmed verse. Are they powerful Whitelighters, powerful Witches or a mixture of both? Charity says the Charmed Ones’ mom was an Elder, suggesting at least some of them are witches. In the original Charmed, the Elders were extra-powerful Whitelighters, but the suggestion was that once witches were dead, they not only were not beholden to Whitelighters anymore, but they were even more powerful than them. (At one point Grams tells Phoebe, “I’m beyond them now.”) What IS clear is that Elders and Whitelighters aren’t allowed to be together -- little shout-out to the Piper-Leo plot from the original there. So not as dramatic as Mels’s love triangle, but more dramatic than Macy and Galvin.

But Harry, it turns out, has another, totally unrelated-to-Charmed-things plot involving wiped memories and a son he THOUGHT died, who he then forgot about, but he now remembers and now actually IS alive after all. What this has to do with ... anything else on the show ... remains to be seen.

Maggie: Maggie had a forgettable love interest for two episodes on the show before moving onto the most dramatic romantic subplot a teenage girl can have -- she falls for her best friend’s boyfriend! After several episodes of angst and an illicit kiss, the boyfriend, a totally boring dude named Parker, breaks it off with his girlfriend so he and Maggie can be together. Maggie’s BFF, whose name I forget, gets an episode dedicated to her rage and Maggie being sorry before she’s shuffled aside so Maggie and Parker can be together, which is important because ....

Psych! Parker’s actually half a demon who needs to become whole demon through Charmed magic or he dies. His mother runs Macy’s lab and his father is an evil demon who controls people, which led to him stealing the Harbinger from Charity and --

Wait, I just realized none of these plots are the actual plot of the season -- because the first episode established that Trump becoming president and the rise of the Harbinger -- which is some kind of evil demon -- are both signs of the apocalypse which the Charmed ones have to stop. (I wasn’t even done explaining Maggie’s plot yet!)

Anyway, this show has too much going on.

How all these plots affect the show:

One thing -- and this sounds sarcastic but it’s totally not -- the characters all deliver their lines extremely fast. They have to -- they have plot things to say. They don’t get much time for the usual CW pop culture references*, let alone verbal pauses and room for their lines to spread out and let them react to what’s going on through their facial expressions and body language.

*at least that I recall -- although Macy got a very good one a couple of episodes ago where she called a demon “Daenerys” because he introduced himself by listing a million titles he supposedly has.

It also makes it really hard to keep up with each individual plot arc while taking away valuable time we need to get to know the characters. Occasionally the show fits in a good sisterly-bonding moment -- Macy and Maggie in particular get scenes to themselves where they’re goofing off together while Mel’s off brooding somewhere. Plus, at least for a while, there were some good scenes between Mel and Harry at least until they each got their own romantic subplot. But with the last couple of episodes -- which managed to fit every gd one of the above-mentioned plots into their 42-minute runtimes -- I’m kind of left wondering how the sisters’ plots are related and what Harry’s even doing in the show.

And I love Harry -- I love that the sisters were bringing him tea in the episode after he got out of Tartarus. Except that they actually gave it to Charity to give him, because we can’t have family bonding time when there are romantic subplots to get to, and other than a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it reference to worrying about Harry in the exposition, they seem to have pretty much forgotten about his trauma by next episode. I thought he was becoming part of the family.

And what I said above -- I wasn’t being funny for effect, I actually did forget that there was a whole plot with the Harbinger -- who was introduced in the very first episode -- until I typed “Wait I just realized none of these plots are the actual plot of the season.” All these plots literally made me forget about the season’s actual plot.

I’m not a die-hard fan or anything -- I’m sure there are people who know the names of Maggie’s ex-boyfriend and best friend and know what Jada’s witchy organization is called or can remember whether Elders are witches or Whitelighters. But I’m watching each episode one time once a week, which is what most viewers are going to be doing, and I’m missing major stuff.

Charmed needs to -- step back, de-clutter, do some spring cleaning. But at this point, I don’t know that they can. They’ve invested too much into all these plots and I think it would be pretty weird to just ... never tell us if Parker died. Personally I wouldn’t mind if Parker died because I found him extremely boring and thought he took up time from more interesting characters and story arcs, but there was so much time invested in telling us his story that it would be a mistake to leave it where it is and come back to it next season. And the same thing goes for all the other plots.

This isn’t mean to be wank. I legitimately like this show and want it to succeed, but I’m wondering what everyone else thinks. I don’t know that new Charmed will get enough of a following if it keeps throwing new plot lines at us every episode in hopes of bringing us back every week. There needs to be more time developing characters to make us actually care about these plots. And if you’re hoping to have more seasons, then surely some of these can be saved for farther down the road like in the original Charmed.

In the meantime, ... team Niko. (Sorry Jada.)

#this isn't anti-jada i actually like her a lot #i think she's going to be the new cole #i just really liked nico ok?#new charmed #not wank but some people might read it that way #also maybe people who are watching this more than i am can answer some of my questions #but ... there are just so many plots #charmed #*niko

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shadowsong26fic · 5 years

Text

AU Outlines: Other Fandoms Edition

So I know that probably like zero of my followers on this blog even go here but I was watching Person of Interest lately, and I’ve also been reading occasional Supernatural spoilers, because I used to be in that fandom and I occasionally get curious. Especially this most recent season. Naturally, this woke up some old characters/situations/etc. that I used to work with, which I’ve been occasionally toying with in the back of my head when I’m bored and/or procrastinating other projects.

I’ve been going back and forth on how I feel about the one plotline that interests me this season (and by back and forth I mean I was really excited when I first read that a particular character was back; engaged by the summaries/etc. I read from his first couple episodes, the third one intrigued me until I read more detailed spoilers and then I started to side-eye it a little bit...)

And then I read up on last week’s episode. And nope, all my excitement is gone, replaced by Pissed for reasons I’m not sure I can actually articulate. (Though I kind of attempted to in the tags here on my personal blog.)

...honestly, I probably should’ve known better; making this kind of storyline really pay off/work would require a lot of attention given to a tertiary character, and given SPN’s track record with the internal worlds and motivations of characters who are not the Big Three, and the fact that they’ve been ignoring a lot of their established angel/vessel lore, the way Claire’s backstory more or less got completely forgotten...I should not have gotten my hopes up. Sigh.

ANYWAY this is now officially Spite Fic(tm). Here, have an outline of a Supernatural/Person of Interest crossover.

Starring Nick.

...uh, before I actually start, I should probably get some background out of the way.

For those of you who are unfamiliar, Person of Interest is a TV show that ran for five seasons, 2011 - 2016. Without c/ping the opening narration, the basic premise of the show is that, in the wake of 9/11, genius software engineer Harold Finch built a surveillance and analysis program, in an effort to prevent similar future tragedies. Out of fear that his creation would be abused, he designed the Machine as a closed system--basically, all that’s provided is an ID number (usually an SSN, at least for US citizens; but Our Heroes get a green card number in one episode, and a student ID number in another), and the person that number indicates is key to unravelling whatever is going down. The Machine was initially designed to predict mass casualty events/terrorism and provide the (relevant) number to the designated government operatives, at which point human intelligence takes over. However, the Machine also identifies things like…gang warfare/one-on-one premeditated murder (irrelevant numbers). That’s where Our Heroes come in.

The first half of the series is basically a procedural with a twist—each episode, the main characters get an irrelevant number (or more; the record was I believe 38 in one episode). They don’t always know how that person is involved, whether they’re the victim or the killer/perpetrator. In a few memorable cases, the number was arguably both.

Then, in the second half, a rival AI (Samaritan) is brought online, and the series becomes somewhat darker in tone and shifts into a cyberpunk apocalypse story. With a few regular irrelevant numbers thrown in on occasion as well, for good measure. For the purposes of this outline, we don’t care so much about POI B, for reasons I will explain, but it bears mentioning. Especially since Greer is still hanging around and trying to bring Samaritan or something similar online.

Right. On to some memorable/notable/important characters.

Our Heroes are Finch, who, as I said, designed and built the Machine. For various reasons, he’s living off the grid (he’s a very private person). Using a backdoor built into the Machine, as of when the series starts, he receives the irrelevant numbers. But he lacks the skills/ability to intervene directly, so he recruits John Reese.

Reese, then, is Finch’s partner/employee/they are totally married; a former CIA assassin who is now presumed dead, he does most of the hands-on work with the numbers and becomes known as the Man in the Suit who is basically Batman.

Carter! Carter is freaking amazeballs; she is p. much the moral/ethical center of the show, one of their two cop friends who was actually trying to track them/Reese down and arrest him for the vigilante BS for the first half-season or so but then they became friends.

Fusco is their other cop friend; former dirty cop/member of an ring, initially recruited by Reese to work undercover in HR (as said ring is called), basically runs on a combination of Dogged Loyalty (the reason he joined HR in the first place, transfers that loyalty to Team Machine, gets his moral compass recalibrated, and becomes one of the most loveable dudes on the show) and Snark (featuring such delightful quotes as “What was I supposed to say? Sorry, boss, Agent King is really a superpowered nutball. Just ask my buddy, the urban legend.” Also at least once a season, he makes a comment to the effect of “just when I thought you guys couldn’t get any weirder…”).

(Also, he is, as my roommate puts it, Shaped Like A Dad.)

Shaw joins the team in Season 3; textbook (and canonical!) bisexual compact Persian sociopath (note: she has some sort of Axis II personality disorder that is occasionally called sociopathy in-universe, but that doesn’t quite fit); there’s…there’s really not much else one can say without just like summarizing everything she does or quoting ad nauseum.

Root! Root is introduced as a major antagonist; hacker/programmer on Finch’s level who works as a contract killer, her initial goal is to locate and free the Machine, which ends up recruiting her early in Season 3 and becoming…you know that particular kind of reformed villain that becomes the weird family member because yes they’re still kind of awful and murdery, and they did a great deal of damage to you and yours, but you’ve now been through Some Stuff together, and besides, they’re your awful and murdery, you know? So not exactly a redemption arc, but they’re one of the Heroes now and just kind of stick with it. Like Barbossa, in POTC. Or Vegeta. My roommate (referenced above) calls this the Weird Uncle trope. And she fits this trope really well and I love it. Also, she and Shaw are canonically girlfriends as of...s4 or s5, depending on how you look at things.

(Also, not necessarily relevant for this outline, but on the subject of Weird Uncles, one cannot talk about POI without mentioning Elias; our friendly neighborhood Mafia don. No, really.)

And Bear! Cannot forget Bear. Bear is Finch and Reese’s dog, acquired at the beginning of S2 and the most amazing. He also has a twitter! In Dutch!

On to some antagonists, Greer is not our friend. He works for/created a company called Decima Technologies; his goal is to bring an unrestricted AI online and let it run the world for complicated reasons relating to some of his experiences during the Cold War working for MI6. Also he has a very punchable face.

And then there’s Control, who runs the Relevant numbers program for the government. She is an awful, awful human being (fully aware of it, too; she has a great speech in the third season finale about how she’s a Necessary Evil and why) and I love her so much.

Okay, that’s the basics for the POI side of things. I can go on a lot longer if y’all want more details (I didn’t even cover my girl Zoe or Leon or…), but that should be enough foundation for the outline to make sense?

For the SPN side of things--I’m not going to summarize the canon background, due to it being the larger/primary-ish fandom. But in terms of the relevant AU stuff, I’m going more or less with the backstory I established for Nick for The Promises of Angels and Cartography!verse.

Basically, he was a high school history teacher; his wife and son were murdered by a serial killer known as the Chesapeake Ripper

(There might well have been/probably was some demonic involvement, though not in the same way as I think S14 canon established; basically either because a “talent scout” demon like that one s7 episode was already involved or because the Ripper was operating independently and a demon got involved later, he was pointed towards this particular woman and baby who fit his victim pool. Either way, Nick was targeted because he was the right bloodline and accessible, because vessel lines are a thing even if the show has forgotten that.)

(Also, Lucifer later took Nick to kill the Ripper. Signing bonus. So to speak.)

After Detroit, Nick gets picked up by Meg, who holds on to him for a while for a variety of reasons (information that might be buried in his memories from the year he spent possessed; the chance that he might be a new key to the Cage…) until the Leviathan turn up, at which point she no longer has the resources to keep him. She cuts him loose at that point, rather than killing him (mostly because she thinks Lucifer left him alive For A Reason and until she knows what that is, she can’t kill him).

So, at this point, in Promises or Cartography, Nick just sort of wanders around for a while until he runs into Claire or Jody, respectively.

For the purposes of this AU, he ends up drifting to New York instead.

And, with all that background out of the way, NOW we can get to the actual fun stuff.

…no, wait, I lied. One more note: as with p. much all my SPN projects, I am following Logical Time rather than Show Time. Which is to say, when calculating dates/figuring out where the timelines intersect/etc., I’m including the two skipped years (between S5/S6 and between S7/S8).

(That being said, I reserve the right to stop caring about the timeline later and just mashing things together as I think it would be entertaining.)

ANYWAY.

We open in the first half of POI S3, somewhere between “Mors Praematura” and “Endgame” (i.e., Root is in the library, but Carter hasn’t initiated her takedown of HR yet). If my math is right, this puts us either in S7 or during the second gap year for SPN.

It starts as most of these adventures do; Team Machine gets a new number.

“This one may be a bit of a project, I’m afraid,” Finch says. “Nick Cross has been missing for several years. He hasn’t been seen since May of 2009, and there’s been no electronic activity on his identity in that time, either.”

Of course, when they dig into his background, his wife and son getting murdered comes up.

“Any chance he killed them?” Reese asks.

“No, he was cleared at the time. They were victims of a serial killer, and Mr. Cross had solid alibis for three of the five incidents, including the one involving his wife and son.”

(Shaw, at that point, theorizes that Nick’s number came up because he somehow tracked the Chesapeake Ripper down and is planning to kill him. And, if that’s the case, doesn’t really see the point in stopping him.)

(“Start with finding him, Ms. Shaw,” Finch says. “We still don’t know if that is, in fact, what’s going on.”)

(Finch also doesn’t approve on principle, of course, but that is not an argument he wants to have with Shaw on this particular morning.)

(Plus, the Ripper seems to have stopped operating at around the same time Mr. Cross disappeared...so there’s a chance that Shaw’s theory is accurate, just out of date.)

In any case, they reason that the Machine wouldn’t have handed them his number if he weren’t alive and in range; Reese and Shaw ask Carter and Fusco to see what they can pull up, and start doing their own legwork.

Carter ends up being the first to find a lead—while on her regular patrol with Laskey, she spots a guy who matches the description, albeit with a few extra scars, and is acting a little off. Like he thinks he’s being followed/watched.

Reese goes to check it out, and this is where things get, uh, Weird.

See, here’s the thing. I love John Reese, and he is a man of Many Skills.

But, uh.

Being approachable and reassuring is Not Among Them.

Like. Don’t get me wrong. When he’s in Bodyguard Mode, it is exactly the right level of Intimidating. He just…has trouble turning it off.

Look, the dude is a semi-retired CIA spysassin and it oozes out of every pore unless he works really hard to tone it down.

(And sometimes even then.)

And since this is just, like, preliminary surveillance to see if this guy Carter spotted really is their number, and he’s not planning to make contact yet, he’s not really focusing on toning it down.

So, when Nick spots him, guess what this looks like to him.

Yep, he thinks Reese is an angel.

He runs.

Reese: “....yeah, pretty sure that’s our number. And he just made me.”

(If Carter didn’t already, Reese probably also mentions that the five-year-old DMV photo they’re working from is out of date; Nick is pretty badly scarred, they look kind of like radiation burns.)

Of course, it was hard enough to find Nick in the first place, so Reese doesn’t want to lose him again. So, made or not, he continues following. Hoping to get to a position where he can make contact and figure out what’s going on. Or just keep tabs on him until Shaw can catch up and take over.

(Not his favorite approach, but he screwed up somewhere and that’s what he’s stuck with now.)

Nick knows the angel is still on him--and this is new and terrifying; he’s had demons after him a few times since Meg ditched him, but this is the first time an angel’s found him and, frankly, angels are worse than demons in his mind.

(Also he’s supposed to be warded how did the angel even find him--)

(Yeah, Nick has gotten a couple tattoos in his post-Meg life--he’s warded, the same sigils that are etched into Sam and Dean’s ribs; he also has a standard anti-demon-possession tattoo.)

In any case, he has a knife up his sleeve, he just needs to get somewhere more or less out of sight, just for a minute, maybe not even, and then he can throw up a banishing sigil. He just needs that minute.

Reese spots Nick duck out of sight into an alley and heads that way, picking up his pace. There’s a chance he’ll lose the number in there, depending on how many exits there are--

Nick casts his sigil and then books it, not wanting to stick around and see if it worked.

Reese gets there just a hair too late.

“I lost him,” he admits, then catches sight of the bloody drawing on the wall. “...but I think I might have an idea what our number’s running from. And why he disappeared for so long.”

“Yeah?” Shaw asks.

“Looks like he might’ve joined a cult."

“....really,” she said. “Huh.”

“He drew some sort of occult symbol on the wall. Looks like blood.”

“...okay, so he joined a cult.”

“It makes a certain amount of sense,” Finch says. “He went through a horrible tragedy. He could have been vulnerable, especially if he sought but failed to find any comfort in traditional religion.”

Reese takes a picture, and sends it to Finch. “Think you can figure out what this is?”

“Well, it’s hardly my area of expertise,” he says, “but I’ll see what I can do.”

“We’ll work on picking up his trail again,” Shaw says, appearing beside Reese in the alley, as she does sometimes. “Maybe stop by and pick up Bear to help.”

...and now skimming over the next few hours...

Finch spends some time in one of the few corners of the internet he’s not super familiar with, and does identify the symbol eventually.

“It’s for protection or warding. Specifically against angels.”

At which point Shaw busts up laughing at the idea of anyone thinking Reese is an angel.

But that does support the idea that he’s running from whatever cult he got mixed up in.

ANYWAY moving on.

Reese and Shaw eventually catch up with Nick again.

Unfortunately, so have the people who are after him.

(And by people, I mean demons. Two of them.)

(Who recognized Nick, obviously, and had the same ideas as Meg, with regard to his potential Uses.)

(Only they’d rather off him so no one gets to unlock whatever secrets he might be holding.)

Shaw goes up--she’s the better sniper, after all--and Reese makes his way into the alley where Nick is cornered

Firing, naturally, at their kneecaps.

Except.....

Nothing...nothing happens...?

(Well, except now the demon is pissed and gunning for Reese instead.)

(Nick is very relieved to see that this guy is not, in fact, an angel. Angels don’t normally use guns.)

(Of course, now he’s just confused, wtf is going on.)

“What the...” Reese says.

“Maybe you missed,” Shaw smirks, from her perch.

“I didn’t miss.”

“Sure,” she says, aiming at the demon chasing him, getting a solid hit in the shoulder.

Which....also does nothing.

“...well, that was weird.”

She fires again, this time a killshot--yeah, yeah, there are Rules, but under the circumstances...

Meanwhile, Demon #2 has gotten ahold of Nick. Who has frozen a little bit.

(He tends to do this, when stressed/triggered--internalize things, and just go blank. He was more or less catatonic when Meg found him, started gradually coming out of it; when Sam got his soul back that sort of accelerated the process and by now he’s mostly functional, but there are Moments...)

Shaw keeps firing at Demon #1. It’s not killing it, but it’s keeping it pinned down so hopefully Reese can reach and extract their number.

“Finch, we’ve got a Situation here.”

“Yes, I can see that.”

(Finch has hacked into some nearby security cameras.)

“You have any idea what the hell is going on?”

“I’m afraid not, Ms. Shaw,” he says. “It’s only the two of them, I think--no one else is coming though the police will probably be responding to the shots soon--”

“Yeah, Finch, I know. Reese?”

Nick is up against the wall and Reese bodily hauls the demon off of him to engage in a fistfight.

(Did not expect a skinny kid like the demon’s host to pack this much of a punch, he’ll have some fun bruises tomorrow...)

Which snaps Nick out of it.

Demons. These are demons. Only demons. I know how demons work. I can--

He rattles off an exorcism, as fast as he can.

The demons scream and smoke out, leaving their two dead hosts behind--Host #1 may have been dead already, or Shaw may have killed them; Host #2 was already gone.

“Finch?” Shaw says. “Finch, are you getting this?”

“I’m--yes, I see it,” he says.

Reese is about to add something, but the Nick passes out--Demon #2 managed to score a solid hit before Reese got there--and he moves to catch him.

“Damn it--he’s bleeding, pretty bad.”

“Get him to the safehouse,” Finch says. “I’ll meet you there, and we’ll...we’ll figure all this out.”

“Library’s closer,” Shaw points out. “And you said no one else was around.”

Finch hesitates for a moment--more concerned about Root than about their base being compromised, at the moment--then nods. “Fine. Bring him here. I’ll clear off a space for you to patch him up.”

“Copy that,” Shaw says. “Reese, stay with him, I’m gonna get us a car.”

...okay, I’ll admit, the rest of this first New York adventure isn’t super well planned out in my brain. So, skimming through it pretty quick...

They bring Nick back to the library. Shaw patches him up, while Finch goes over the footage he found, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

Nick eventually wakes up. There’s a Talk.

“They were demons,” Nick explains. “They, uh. They can’t be killed, not with guns. There’s a couple specially-designed weapons, I think. And angel blades. Holy water will burn them, and you can use salt to keep them out. Best thing to do is probably trap them and exorcise them.”

Basically, Team Machine gets The Talk about monsters and so on Existing.

He admits to having been possessed for a year when they ask him why demons are chasing him, though he’s a little vague on further details. He does mention Meg, too, that she held on to him after he was dispossessed.

He asks how they found him--he’d thought his warding was messed up, especially when he thought Reese was an angel.

They give their characteristic vague answer, then ask, “If you’re...warded, how is it they found you in the first place?”

He figures, at this point, that his warding is fine--it doesn’t hide him from demons, necessarily, but even if it did, warding doesn’t stop the bad guys from spotting him by chance. Which is, incidentally, exactly what happened.

Nick also, of course, gets in the usual number questions; “who are you” “why are you helping me” etc., with the added weight of his possession and the fact that they took on literal demons to try and save his life.

Also, somewhere in this mess, Nick wanders off into the part of the library where Root is being held. Possibly while the rest of Team Machine is getting what they’ll need to deal with whatever Climactic Fight will end the episode/section.

(Nick was a high school history teacher, and this is a really awesome library, of course he’s going to go exploring if he’s left alone.)

(Bear is there to keep an eye on him/keep him from leaving.)

(Bear also gets many scritches and pets, as he deserves.)

Anyway, Root and Nick have a conversation; whether she and the Machine are already doing their Morse Code thing or something else is going on...or...something...anyway, Nick gets read in on the Machine’s existence.

(His reaction is more or less “...that does not even make the top ten most unbelievable/dangerous things I know exist, so...all right then.”)

Finch gets back to find them talking about history or something. Bear is next to Nick, who is a lot calmer/more willing to work with them than he was before. Root is just inside the cage wall, idly scritching Bear’s ears as they talk.

(This is actually Important.)

Anyway, eventually there is the requisite climactic fight. Possibly angels are involved--I know Shaw gets her hands on an angel blade at some point...

Point is, things get resolved, more or less. Nick ends up leaving New York.

BUT! Because Root had a Moment with him back there, and Finch saw it, he’s willing to unleash her a little earlier when the shit hits the fan a few episodes later.

In short, thanks to Root kind of sort of Bonding with one of their weirder/more fragile numbers, Team Machine is much better positioned to deal with Endgame nonsense, which means, first, that Carter gets to live (though Reese might still get hella shot, depending on how exactly Root changes what happens with Simmons; but he won’t go on his Roaring Rampage of Revenge); what follows is then that Team Machine is all working on the same page when Claypool’s number comes up aaaaaaand we avert Samaritan. Yay!

(Carter does still deduce the Machine’s existence, of course, gets upgraded to the yellow box and everything. And, remembering the late-S1 drama, strongly advocates for Fusco getting read in, too.)

(She gets her way on that, too. Eventually. Probably before too much longer, even.)

Also, Control does reveal herself, but doesn’t manage to capture Root just yet.

(Which also means Root doesn’t get her implant, at least for a while.)

But apart from that, we can leave this group to their own devices for a while, and get back to following Nick, who is now past his Origin Story, so to speak...

Hokay. So. After Nick leaves New York, he just starts sort of drifting again, and then a few days later, he gets a phone call.

Which he actually answers; in all honestly very few people would reach out to him this way, and he’s pretty sure none of the things that terrify him are on that list.

“Can. You. Hear. Me?”

Nick stares at the phone for a long moment. The Machine repeats herself.

“…no.” He hangs up.

(Look, he knows damn well what that phone call was; Root told him enough when the two of them talked in the library. And he is not interested in letting another near-omnipotent entity screw with his head. Once was enough. He learned his lesson.)

The Machine backs off, deciding to try a less-invasive way of trying to get in touch with/recruit him.

Why is she doing this? Well.

The Machine’s mandate/objective is to protect humanity. When Nick came up on her radar as an irrelevant number she could offer her assets, she noticed some…let’s call them anomalies. In archival data about him, about the two people talking about murdering him…lots of things didn’t add up. Which is why he got pushed to the top of the list, so to speak.

(I mean, assuming she does put a certain level of thought/deliberation into which numbers she sends her assets? If two come up at once that are unrelated, does she need to decide, or do they get both? This isn’t 100% clear in the show, I don’t think; pretty sure all the multi-number episodes do end up being related, even if they don’t appear that way at first, apart from, like, backlogs from when the Machine has to go dark temporarily for whatever reason…anyway, if that is the case, she picked Nick because there was a lot of Weird Shit going on around him and she needed her human assets to sort through it, because she simply didn’t have the tools or parameters necessary to work it out for herself.)

So, Nick’s number comes up, and even more strange things keep happening. The Machine evaluates, and comes to the conclusion that there’s an entire class of threats to humanity that she hasn’t been monitoring correctly. The fact of the matter is, she was programmed with certain blind spots, because Finch had certain blind spots.

But the Machine is now in a position to correct that. She’s aware of the flaw in her system and, thanks to the changes she’s been making since Stanton’s virus and the other S2 arc plot stuff allowed her to start altering her code in a way she couldn’t before…

She can make up for it by adding yet another set of numbers/another protocol. Relevant numbers to the government as always, irrelevant numbers (within their reach, at least) to Finch and his team, “necessary” numbers (i.e., protecting the Machine herself/keeping tabs on other, potentially hostile, ASIs) to Root, and now…we’ll call them “hidden” numbers.

Of course, the next problem is, while there’s a lot of data available about monsters, angels, demons, etc., it’s very hard to sort through what is useful data and what is, frankly, BS. And, unfortunately, she lacks the parameters to do it herself.

Ergo, she needs a human asset to help her figure it out. Teach her/help her define this new dataset.

(And also to intervene when necessary, but that can come later. She’s got a bit of a learning curve ahead of her first, and she knows it.)

But, of course, she doesn’t want to retask any of her current assets—both because they have enough to deal with and because, again, learning curve. Better for at least one entity involved to know what they’re doing, right?

And so, she decides to recruit Nick. Nick, who has already been her window into this hidden world. Nick, who needs her as much as she needs him.

(Kind of like Root, except absolutely unlike Root. Like in that they were both drowning when she approached them, and needed her to give them a framework to cling to, to drag themselves back to the surface; unlike in that Nick is drowning in a very different ocean than Root was.)

Anyway. Eventually, she does manage to talk to him, and explain what she wants.

And he’s still not...100% sure how he feels about working with her, but...well, data entry, right? He can do that. Maybe.

“I don’t know how much help I’ll be,” he admits. “Just because I was possessed for a year doesn’t mean I know everything.”

“It’s still a place to start,” she replies. “Eventually, I’ll figure out the patterns and be able to extrapolate.”

“...okay, then.”

(As it turns out, he knows a lot more than he thinks he does, which is utterly terrifying; he has a lot of subconscious/residual information buried in his mind.)

Of course, eventually, just data entry isn’t enough.

The Machine doesn’t have all the answers/all the patterns down, but she has enough that she’s starting to identify threats/numbers she can assign out.

But Nick...well, Nick is fragile. Mentally, of course, but physically as well--burned inside and out, metaphorically and literally, by a long, incompatible possession.

At the moment, though, he’s the only asset she has in this area. Recruiting others, from among the insular, paranoid hunter community...is going to be difficult.

She spots something she thinks he can handle, especially if she grants him God Mode access and keeps him there.

He stares down at the text message she sent him.

“...I can’t do this,” he says. “I can’t...”

“Can we please try?” she says. “I’ll help you.”

“...I...”

“It’s a demon, I think.”

He thinks about it for a minute. He can handle demons, he thinks. He has before, after all. He understands demons. And...

(he thinks about the feeling of evil still living under his skin; he thinks of blood on his hands and in his heart; about all the nightmares and half-memories; about how he feels too small for his own body, how his thoughts echo inside his head...)

(he wants to do better. he wants to be better. maybe helping...people like him, people who have gone through what he went through...maybe that’s a start. to make up for what he did.)

“...is the host still alive? When I...if I manage to get there and exorcise them...are they still alive?”

“I can’t tell,” she admits. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll...try,” he says. “I’ll try.”

It ends up, fortunately, being a win for all of them--the demon is thrown enough by seeing Lucifer’s former vessel that Nick has a chance to act; the host is in fact still alive.

Nick spends hours after the exorcism, just...sitting with him, talking. Helping him cope/process things.

“...we should do that again sometime,” he finally tells the Machine, after he goes back to wherever he’s sleeping these days.

So, he starts kind of sort of hunting after that, with the help of an ASI.

Every time he directly engages something, he’s in God Mode. He has to be, because of the aforementioned damage; he wouldn’t survive on his own.

(Probably, at some point, he and the Machine put together something like the Tenebamus Infinitum forum in The Promises of Angels; online support group/community for possession survivors.)

(Sam may or may not find his way there...)

At first, they mostly focus on demons/possession cases. Sometimes ghosts. But they slowly start to branch out into other areas.

They deal with some miscellaneous monsters, faeries, maybe a vampire...good times.

Pretty much the only ones they avoid are angels and pagan gods, because Nick cannot deal.

(Angels for uh obvious reasons; pagan gods because he remembers like two things from his possession with any clarity, and one of them is Muncie, Indiana/Gabriel’s death.)

(The Machine occasionally considers trying to get him into a hospital for a while, the way Root was--she thinks it would help him--but he’s...managing for the moment, so it’s not as necessary, and she does still need him actively working....plus, he’s terrified of being sedated so...this gets put on indefinite hold.)

During this period, though, they do acquire two more Friends.

First--and I’m not 100% sure how they meet; possibly similar to how Nick and Jody meet in Cartography!verse, i.e., a grief support group of some kind.

Anyway, first he meets a young woman, a psychiatrist. Who is familiar, if peripherally, with angel and demon type stuff.

(Other monsters are gonna be a little New to her.)

Her name is Ashley Finnerman.

(Yes, as in Donnie.)

(He was her cousin.)

(After what happened to him, she started trying to figure it out, and eventually did.)

(...honestly, the forum may be her idea. She definitely joins it, not as a fellow survivor, but as a crisis counselor/trained professional who will believe them.)

(Ashley is pretty big on community building in general; yes, she’s a therapist and that’s a start, but she’s only one person. In her ideal world, they’d be able to draw in other professionals--psychiatric because this is an underserved population that desperately needs those resources; medical (as in physical medical/other MDs); legal...anyway, she’s not 100% sure how to go about doing that, but helping out on with Tenebamus is a step in the right direction, in her opinion.)

Ashley is eventually read in on the Machine as well. She has more or less an actual Life outside of it all, so she isn’t as immersed as Nick is, but she’s still definitely part of his team.

And second...somehow, they acquire Adam.

How? ...again, not 100% sure, but probably one of two ways--

One, something similar to Promises, where Nick gets too close to the Cage mouth for some reason and is offered a Bribe. He takes the bribe, with exactly zero intention of following through on his end of the bargain, so to speak.

Two, some kind of straight-up Fairy Tale Bullshit. S6 establishes that faeries can reach the Cage; Nick somewhat accidentally does a favor for a powerful faerie through his work with the Machine, and to repay the debt, the faerie (or possibly a High Up Faerie who has taken ownership of the debt because he helped someone in their court/their child/something or other) restores his Counterpart to him? IDK, something like that.

...I think I like this option. He accidentally does a favor for, IDK, Mab. And she, not wanting to be in his debt, heads down to the Cage.

This works because, a) Mab is probably one of the few entities that can go toe-to-toe with an Archangel like this; and b) Michael is actually on board with springing Adam.

(Not necessarily because he gives a shit about Adam, but he does give a shit about Justice, and keeping Adam down here, especially with Sam gone, is not Justice.)

Naturally, she doesn’t tell Nick ahead of time--he did the favor without consulting her, she shall repay him in kind. Faeries and Obligations, man.

Anyway, Adam joins them, and then Nick doesn’t have to be quite as hands-on because Adam is perfectly capable.

(Adam also, at some point, makes a comment about the three of them having ‘nearly a complete set.’)

(I have no idea how/if they’ll ever be able to find someone to fit in for Gabriel, but three out of four!)

(Nick finds this oddly hilarious, for reasons he can’t quite articulate.)

So, that is what Nick is doing while Team Machine is foiling Vigilance and Greer and Decima and dealing with their Hard Sci Fi end of things.

Let’s bring these two worlds crashing back together, shall we?

(Well, I say crashing together...this probably isn’t the first time Nick has run into the others since that first adventure.)

(If nothing else, he’s stayed in touch, off and on, with Root.)

(And I’m pretty sure the others have met Adam.)

(Maybe that was where Shaw got her angel blade...)

So, timeline for this. Uh...probably at least a year after Nick’s first encounter with Team Machine. For the SPN side of things...ehhhhh I’ll handwave/stop caring and say this is sometime in the latter half of S8. Between the first two Trials. Let’s go with that.

Nick and co are back in New York, probably dealing with something on their end of things. A ghost or something.

And then they get sucked into some Team Machine nonsense.

Control still wants the Machine--or a suitable Plan B--back under her complete, well, control.

Decima is going after some other potential ASI.

(Root is back in town to deal with them.)

Vigilance is involved too, because why not.

(Greer can’t initiate his endgame there just yet, after all, so they’re probably still operating.)

Nick, Adam, and Ashley are pitching in, because they’re here and the Machine needs all the help she can get on this one. Because Reasons.

Meg gets involved--this goes AU in that she escaped Crowley somehow. And one of the first things she does is try to check on her various assets, so she’s trying to track Nick and figure out what the hell is going on with him.

Crowley, of course, is chasing her, trying to get her back.

And, to round it all off, Sam and Dean are chasing him.

(As they approach, Sam starts noticing a weird buzzing feeling in the back of his head. Like circulation returning, or something like that. He decides not to mention it--thinks it might be a new Trials symptom, and he’s already hiding those from Dean, what’s one more secret? Besides, they need to know what Crowley finds so interesting about this place...that’s way more important, right?)

So, all these disparate parties converge on wherever the potential ASI is being held/built.

Root and Nick, of course, are both in God Mode.

(...incidentally, Nick is...nnnnnnnnnot super comfortable with calling it that? He and Adam and Ashley mostly just call it access or full-access.)

(Nick has the same tingling feeling in the back of his head, but he can’t do anything about it right now. He just focuses on the task at hand, and getting himself and his friends through this alive.)

The Machine tips Nick off to the fact that there are demons sniffing around--a couple of Crowley’s minions. Which, of course, Nick and his team can handle, but there’s several of them around and we reeeeally don’t want Crowley getting access to an ASI.

(Especially not S8!Crowley.)

So, Nick, Adam, and Ashley head off to put up wards and shoo off any demons they can, leaving the others to deal with the Decima nonsense/destroy the drives or whatever.

There’s a lot of ground to cover, so they split up.

Eventually, Nick gets pinned down by Decima mooks, trapped in a corner of the facility where he’s trying to finish getting the wards up.

“What...what do I do now?” he asks the Machine.

She runs her simulations, and it doesn’t look good.

And here is where it’s different from, say, “If-Then-Else.” Slash another way Root and Nick are very different people/assets.

Whereas Root is perfectly okay with obeying orders from her God without question, Nick needs to be told his options and make the choice himself.

At some point, he describes Access as oddly comforting. It’s almost as overwhelming, almost as much of a surrender, as consenting to possession is.

But there’s one critical difference.

He doesn’t have to listen to her.

He can say no.

He can hang up.

I mean, it’s generally speaking a bad idea to do that, but the option is still available.

So, his head doesn’t feel as empty with her in it, but a lot of it is still on his terms.

That being said, when there’s no time, or it’s a very immediate “there’s someone behind you” type of God Mode moment, of course, that’s less of an issue.

But something like this, where there’s a fork in the road?

If there’s time, she’ll lay out two or three of the least bad options and let him decide.

“If you go out the door and turn left, you will run into Control. She will figure out you’re tied to me, and she will take you prisoner. She will almost certainly torture you, to get you to give me up. Adam and Ashley will meet up with my other assets, and they will rescue you, but the chances of their success are very slim. There is a five percent chance, at best, that you will survive. It varies, depending on how quickly the others can mobilize.”

“Okay,” he says, and swallows. “And...and Adam and Ashley, will they...?”

“They have better than even odds of surviving.”

“Okay,” he says again. “What else?”

“Turn right,” she says. “You’ll run into the demon who held you captive.”

“Meg?”

“Yes.”

That’s not so bad, he thinks. Meg didn’t torture him too much, and she wanted him kept alive.

“Control will capture Root instead,” she continues. “Sameen and the others will attempt to rescue her. Adam and Ashley will pursue you.”

Control capturing Root, on the other hand, seems like a very bad thing. Still...

“Adam and Ashley?”

“About the same,” she says. “But there is another concern.”

“Okay.”

“If Meg takes you, there’s a chance she’ll find me. And if she does, it’s extremely likely that someone less friendly will, as well. There is also an approximately 17% chance that you’ll wind up in Crowley’s hands instead of Meg’s. And his chances of finding me are a lot stronger.”

Yeah, no. That cannot happen.

“Are there any other options?” he asks.

She pauses for a split second. “Turn right,” she says. “Then at the first hallway, turn left instead of going straight. I’ll have to leave you then--there are several Decima soldiers, but if you manage to get past them on your own, you’ll find Sam and Dean Winchester.”

It hits him like a punch to the gut.

“Your chances of reaching them without my help are better than your chances of surviving Control,” the Machine continues, “but not by much. If you can get there, though, they most likely won’t harm you.”

Unless I’m in full-access mode, Nick thinks, and shivers a little.

“And I can say with approximately 97% certainty that, when Adam and Ashley find you, they won’t harm them, either. I cannot say the same for the demons or Control.”

“They won’t hurt us physically,” Nick finally manages to say. “But I can’t...I-I-I don’t know how I’ll...I can’t shut down, not in here. A-and I don’t know how Sam will react to seeing me, I’ll probably seriously fuck with his head a-and I can’t...I can’t...”

(there’s this running refrain in his head, that Sam Winchester is perfect, and that Nick is the reason that everything goes wrong.)

(the Machine regrets even more not getting Nick more help.)

He takes a shaky breath. “Plus, I don’t know if Adam’s ready for that yet,” he says. “He hasn’t...uh, he hasn’t said anything about wanting to track them down.”

“That’s true.”

He’s quiet for another minute.

“Nick?”

“...I’ll take my chances with Control,” he says.

“I understand,” she says. “Thank you. And I’m sorry.”

(It’s not what she would have advised him to do, necessarily--she would have advised him to try for Sam and Dean; it balances protecting her with protecting the majority of her assets.)

“Directions?” he says.

“Open the door and turn left.”

She guides him down the hallway, advises him where to dodge, where to strike. He picks up a gun at one point--

(he’s hesitant, and she reminds him “you’re in Control’s world now, you have to play by her rules.”)

He gets to the inevitable trap, where ISA corners him and Control is there.

She recognizes, pretty quickly, that he’s in God Mode.

“...now just who the hell are you?”

On the other side of the facility, Ashley’s phone rings.

“Can. You. Hear. Me?”

The Machine also advises Root that Nick has been captured.

She and Finch have finished neutralizing the potential ASI drives; Reese and Shaw are with them; Carter and Fusco are currently working on securing their exit route, after driving off a handful of Vigilance mooks.

“We need to move,” Root says. “Control has Nick. Adam and Ashley will meet us.”

Reese nods once. “Lionel, Joss, get ready. We’re headed your way.”

“Copy that,” Carter says. “Fusco--”

“On it.”

Meg has realized that Crowley is here, so she’s now in the process of finding her own exit. He’s in pursuit.

Sam and Dean got all turned around and manage to get to just the right hallway at just the right time to see Adam and Ashley piling onto an elevator.

“...Dean,” Sam says. “Dean, tell me you’re seeing what I’m seeing.”

(he doesn’t press his hand. he hasn’t hallucinated in almost two years, he doesn’t need to--)

“Adam?” Dean calls.

Adam half turns to them, hesitates for half a second, then follows Ashley into the elevator and the door slides shut.

...and I’ll admit I don’t have a whole lot planned out beyond that. Also this is getting, like, super long. So, quick wrapup, so to speak.

So, Team Machine, plus Adam and Ashley go to rescue Nick.

Sam and Dean track them down.

Adam goes to talk to them, try and get them to back off.

“I have to go rescue my friend,” he says. “But once I’m done with that, we can talk. I promise. We’ll set up a meeting and I’ll tell you...as much as I remember, I guess. But right now, I have to go rescue my friend. Kind of on a clock here.”

“We’ll help,” Sam offers.

“This isn’t really your kind of thing,” Adam says. “This isn’t monsters, this is the ISA.”

“The what now?” Dean asks.

“Like the CIA, but on steroids.”

“...how the hell did you get involved in CIA bullshit?” Dean asks.

“It’s kind of a long story,” Adam says. “Which I will tell you, once my friend is safe. So can you please just...let me do this first?”

“How did...” Sam asks. “How did you get out?”

“Also a long story,” Adam says. “But I’m the only one who came out, I swear. And...” He hesitates. “They...mostly left me alone, after you were gone. If you were worried about that.”

(Sam hadn’t been, mostly because he had been Very Firmly Not Thinking About Adam for a while now, but he’s relieved to hear it.)

Reese steps out. Possibly holding his grenade launcher. “Come on, Adam, we gotta go.”

“Coming,” Adam says, then turns back to Sam and Dean. “I will call you as soon as we’re clear. I promise. Don’t follow us, okay?”

Without waiting for an answer, he follows Reese and they go to rescue Nick.

(Obviously, S&D don’t listen and do, in fact, follow Adam, but I’m not 100% sure where that would go.)

(Other than they do, in fact, manage to extract Nick alive, but it’s a near thing.)

(The fun thing here is, Control actually can’t break Nick. Well, she can’t get him to tell her anything about the Machine, anyway.)

(Yes, everyone has their breaking point so far as pain/torture goes, and Nick is no exception.)

(But he will physically break--i.e., die--before he mentally breaks.)

(And while psychological torture would be a lot more effective, she doesn’t know what buttons to push.)

(When she runs his prints/whatever, she gets the name Jacob White, which is an identity that Finch put together for him, for when he needed to interact with the real world. Since his own identity is...complicated.)

(Yes, that is a reference.)

(I couldn’t resist.)

(Also, the Machine, through Root, gets to deliver her verbal bitchslap to Control at last.)

Uh....yeah. That’s all the actual Plot I have at this point. But some other notes!

My girl Zoe is totally in the know. She may or may not have encountered Bela at some point, or found out some other way, but she does know.

(She never told Harold and John because--well, honestly, why would she? Her stock in trade is secrets, after all. And it never came up, and she wasn’t involved with Nick’s first adventure.)

Elias will turn up at some point. And basically become something like John Marcone, if any of y’all are familiar with the Dresden Files.

Bear’s Plot Armor may be some kind of magic, and I would not be surprised if he could take on a Hellhound and win.

Carter and Jody. Just...just Carter and Jody, man.

Like I said, Shaw gets her hands on an angel blade at some point. She and Dean probably bond. I feel like they would bond.

Also, I think Dean gets put into God Mode at some point. Possibly as his first real introduction to the Machine.

Like...IDK, he and Sam are with Nick for some reason, Nick, as implied above, cannot go into God Mode in front of the two of them, and honestly Sam going into God Mode in front of him would also be pretty devastating, so...Dean’s phone gets to ring!

“Can. You. Hear. Me?”

“...the fuck?”

“Can. You. Hear. Me?”

“Yes, I can--what the fuck is--”

“Two. O’clock.”

::turns and OHSHIT just in time::

IDK the idea just entertains me.

...yep, I think that’s it.

If you’re still here, thank you for putting up with my nonsense/checking this out.

Tune in next time, for an actual serious AU outline of some kind.

(....who am I kidding, these things are never serious XD)

#shadowsong writes spn #shadowsong26fic #shadowsong writes crossovers #au outlines for the win #shadowsong writes self-indulgent bs #shadowsong is feeling Spiteful today

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fic-library · 6 years

Text

Kids

“You gotta help me here, Jody. I’m in deep, deep trouble with this one. I’m serious, I need your help.“ The desperation was painfully obvious in his voice.

“Seriously, Dean? It’s one 16 year old with an attitude, it’s hardly the end of the world. At least yours wasn’t raised by vampires, think yourself lucky. Take her to a movie, buy her a new phone, just get her on your side. Call me when it’s the apocalypse.” There was a click. Jody was gone and Dean was left to fend for himself.

It had been eight months since Claire Novak moved into the bunker and it had been… Interesting, to say the least. She hated Dean. Pure and simple. No matter how hard he tried to win her over, no matter how much he avoided her, it always ended up in a screaming match and two thoroughly slammed doors. At first, it wasn’t just Dean she hated. At first, anyone that dared even knock on her door was met with a torrent of abuse.

Within three weeks, Jody was allowed to talk to her. A week after that, Cas was accepted into the circle of trust. A few days later, Dean walked in on Charlie and Claire both hysterically laughing. Three months into Claire’s stay, Sam had his first full conversation with the girl. Dean had figured that eventually, eventually his time would come. But five more months passed and Dean was yet to hear her voice at a normal decibel. It was really beginning to grate on Dean’s nerves.

It wasn’t like he didn’t understand her reasoning. Jody was a comforting reminder of her Mother, Charlie was like a cool older sister, Cas was wearing her damn father for gods sake and Sammy was basically a giant teddy bear. And Dean, well Dean was the guy banging the dude inhabiting her father’s old body. Yeah. So Dean did sympathise with the kid, it was a fucked up situation after all.

He tried to be discreet with Cas whenever she was around. He kept the touches light and brief, the innuendos were at a bare minimum and he was very, very careful to use only ‘bro’ approved nicknames from the second he heard her bedroom door open in the morning to the second it closed at night. It was difficult and Dean hated it but he would do anything to make Cas happy, which meant keeping Claire happy.

Cas and Claire were generally harmonious. Dean had even heard the word ‘Dad’ being thrown around between them, at first as a kind of inside joke until it became less of a joke. The pair rarely, really argued. So it was quite a change to hear Claire screaming at someone other than Dean, as the man in question enjoyed his morning coffee.

“Look Castiel, it’s not a big deal. You drive me to a concert. You do whatever old people do while I have a great time. Then you pick me up and we drive back here. Its not exactly life threatening.” Claire’s volume was dangerously high, indicating to Dean that this argument was long drawn out and had probably begun hours before he even awoke.

“Please Claire, you have to understand. I do not wish to stop you having fun, that is really not my intention. But I can’t drive, Sam and Charlie will be away on a hunt and Jody’s busy with Alex. There’s no one to take or supervise you. I’m sorry.” From the look on his face, he really truly was sorry.

The words left Deans mouth before he even processed them.

“Why don’t I take her?”

The response was instantaneous.

“Absolutely not.”

“Dean I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Can I please talk to you, alone, for a second?” Cas’ eyebrows were raised high and his mouth was set straight. Dean clearly had no choice in the matter. He let Cas take his hand and lead him out of the kitchen, choosing to ignore Claire’s eye roll at the slight touch. Once they were out of the range of prying teenage ears and eyes, Cas gave the biggest sigh Dean had ever heard. “Thank you for offering to take her. But I was lying to her before, I could quite easily get her there and back in sufficient time. I believe the concert she wishes to attend is somewhat inappropriate for her age, but I also believe telling her this would cause a lot more shouting to occur. I can’t explain it but the thought of her at this concert, it - well, it worries me greatly. Plus, you’re still recovering from the removal of The Mark. So thank you Dean, thank you for trying with her. But please do not take her to that concert.”

Dean considered for a second, the gears in his brain whirring. On the one hand, Cas had asked him not to. Cas had made it very clear that leaving the bunker was a no go for both Claire and Dean. On the other hand, it had been years since Dean had been to an honest to god concert and it would be a great way to win over Claire, as Jody had suggested. Before he’d even decided he was nodding and pulling Cas into a long hug.

After a short while, the two went back to the kitchen and Cas annoyingly delivered the news that actually Dean wasn’t feeling up to it after all. If Claire wasn’t eating, Dean was sure she would’ve stormed out of the room. She was a lot like Dean in that way; outrage took the back seat when there was food involved. Eventually Cas got bored of the kitchen and excused himself to do further research into some miracles that had occurred one state over, they suspected angel intervention. He stole a kiss from Dean as he passed, causing Claire to grimace. Dean waited a good few minutes before he was sure Cas was out of earshot before he addressed her.

“So, tell me more about this concert.”

She snorted. “Not a chance, old man. Besides, I thought you were too under the weather? Or were you lying? To me or to Da-, I mean Castiel?”

Dean chose to ignore her very nearly almost slip of the tongue, and her very incorrect use of the word old. “Look, Cas doesn’t want you to go, so unless you have a way to sneak out if this basically impenetrable bunker, drive yourself there and sneak back in, all without alerting the guy, you ain’t going. Now me, I’ve got a real neat trick to get rid of him. I’m just as tired of being cooped up in this bunker as you are. I’m going whether you’re there or not, it’s up to you kid.”

She considered it, chewing for a few seconds. “Fine. Doors open at 7 so we should probably leave around 5:30 so I can get right to the front when we get in. How are we going to get out without Castiel knowing?“

“Nope, doors open at 7 which means the real fun doesn’t start until at least 10:30, trust me. We’ll leave at 10, I’ll get you to the front. As for getting out, that’s for me to know. You just make sure Cas sees you ready for bed, but definitely angry. If you’re not angry he won’t believe it. See you in a bit, kiddo.”

Dean left the kitchen, unreasonably pleased with himself. He could make this work. He had to make this work. Cas cared about Claire, in his own awkward, angelic way. Cared about her a lot, actually. Dean could see that it upset the angel whenever Dean and Claire fought. Maybe this would finally make Claire tolerate him and maybe, just maybe, it could mean less yelling around the bunker.

Dean set to work on their escape plan immediately. He followed the sound of tapping keys and heavy sighs all the way to the library, where he found his two favourite dorks, both elbow deep in research. Dean honestly couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the two of them, heads slumped into palms with boredom as they trawled news sites for any new leads on their respective cases.

“Sorry to interrupt the party but I need to steal Cas for a few. You and Charlie leaving soon?” The question was directed at Sammy, as Cas shut down the laptop and gathered his things away.

“Uh yeah, couple of hours. We’re taking Charlie’s truck. The towns only an hour away so there’s no huge rush. We’re thinking it’s a witch,” Dean shuddered at the thought, “Probably fairly new seeing as the cops actually found the hex bag. We’ll be there a couple of days tops. So, I guess I’ll give you a call if we need anything. See you later.” Sam turned his attention back to his laptop, leaving Dean to continue Operation Tire Out Cas, Go to the Concert and Win Over Claire. He would have to come up with a better name.

He led Cas out to the garage, holding the car door open for him whilst pointedly ignoring Cas’ questions. He continued to ignore Cas as he pulled out of the bunker and onto the open road. He let his hand slide down to Cas’ knee as the speedometer pushed 75 miles per hour before he bothered to reply.

“We’re taking a day trip. I have cabin fever, you’ve been working almost nonstop on that new case and really both of us could use a break from the yelling.” Dean noted Cas’ grimace, taking it as an agreement about the yelling. “So, where to? It’s your choice.”

Cas considered it for a moment, clearly weighing up his options as he stared out of the window. “You’re really letting me choose? You’re not going to argue with my choice, even if you disagree? You really won’t tease me for my choice?” Dean rolled his eyes but drew a cross over his heart with his right hand all the same. This seemed to satisfy Cas’ questions. “Then I know exactly where. There’s this place that I found recently whilst researching a case. I’ve been wanting to visit for a while now, but haven’t really had the chance. I’ll direct you.“

And direct he did. Until Dean pulled into a car park, about an hour later. After a quick stretch of his legs, Dean glanced around to see where on God’s earth Cas had brought him. Not even the dull ache in Dean’s shoulder managed to dampen his grin after reading the sign above him. The Magic Wings Butterfly House. Of course. Still, as Cas nervously peered over the roof, just waiting for the teasing to begin, Dean couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty. They were only there so Dean could later do the exact thing Cas asked him not to. For a second, Dean considered texting Claire and calling the whole thing off. His train of thought was soon broken by Cas gently tugging on his sleeve, urging him towards the butterfly house with the enthusiasm of a young child, expelling any thoughts other than ‘Cas’ from his mind.

Dean would never, ever admit to this to a soul but that afternoon spent in the butterfly house was one of those afternoons you always remember until the day you die. There was something about the heavy humidity of the place, curling even the straightest of hair and giving everyone’s faces an intense sheen of sweat, that prodded at Dean’s heart just a little bit. Or maybe it was the pure delight on Cas’ face the first time one of the patterned creatures landed on his arm, (“Dean. Look, look at my arm! It landed on me!”) or maybe it was his shocked bark of laughter when one of the fragile fuckers set up residence slap bang in the middle of Dean’s forehead. There was a chance this feeling so pure it hurt, came from the sight of Cas lapping at an ice cream. It had taken Dean a good ten minutes to convince him to try it.

“But Dean, I don’t need the food. I don’t eat. I don’t see the appeal of frozen milk.”

“Cas, just try it. Trust me, it’ll be so worth it. You’ll love it!”

Cas had eventually begrudgingly admitted that Dean was right. The sun was just setting when they headed back to the bunker, indicating to Dean it was around 5pm. With four hours to kill, Dean knew exactly what had to be done back at the bunker. As soon as they pulled up, Dean gave a list of the most mind numbingly dull tasks to Cas. These were the tasks Dean knew full well tired Cas out the most, due to the complete lack of thought needed. He asked him to fold the laundry, to restack books in the library, to wash up the dirty dishes and every time Cas passed Dean and gave him a small smile or a yawn, that uncomfortable guilt burrowed just a little further into Dean’s gut.

At 7:30, Cas passed Dean with his third load of laundry and a fairly large yawn. Dean’s resolve broke.

“Cas I think you’re done now, thank you for the help. Come watch a movie with me?” This was the final, albeit unplanned, phase of the plan. Cas didn’t get tired much. He was still an angel, despite his failing grace. It took a long, emotionally wrought day or a seemingly endless list of tasks or just a night alone with Dean to make him feel even remotely sleepy. But, after many hours of research, Dean had discovered a secret weapon. Animated movies. Not the good ones like the Incredibles or Finding Nemo. Something more along the lines of Despicable Me 2 or Madagascar 3. There was nothing quite like two hours of those irritating yellow tic-tacs to send Castiel off to sleep. Dean suspected it was down to frustration.

“I can speak every single language ever spoken on earth and in heaven. I cracked the Enigma Code before the Germans had even written it. I watched as the first word was grunted. But these little yellow specks don’t even make sense! They’re speaking gibberish, Dean!” It was at this point Cas gruffly crossed his arms and shut his eyes, clearly sulking. The plan was working. Cas was practically asleep, burrowed into Dean’s side. His face still wore an expression of irritation although the lines formed softened considerably as Dean caressed his side lovingly. Dean had done his part, now it was down to Claire and her acting skills. They were surprisingly good.

At 9pm Cas was, by all definitions of the word, asleep. Every now and again he stirred to complain about the movie, often calling the minions blasphemous, but for the most part he was breathing heavily, with his eyes shut, against Dean’s lap. Dean was seconds away from suggesting bed time when thundering footsteps jerked him awake.

“Are you happy now Castiel? It’s barely even dark out and I’m in my freaking pyjamas. What’s the point in even being young if you don’t ever let me do anything? I might as well be old like you two sad, losers falling asleep at Despicable Me. I mean come on, that’s just ridiculously sad. I’m going to bed before the two of you ruin my life even more.” With a very Regina George speech and additional hair flick, she turned and flounced out the room. It was very convincing. Apparently, that was all Cas was waiting for. As soon as Claire’s door audibly slammed shut, he stood up and stretched widely.

“I think I’ll go to bed too, Dean. Coming?“ He reached out a hand and pulled Dean to his feet.

This was something Dean should have prepared for. He’d never been a cuddler, before Cas. Never. Traditionally, the only time Dean wanted to share a bed with someone was sex, usually sleeping as far away from the other person as physically possible afterwards. But with Cas it was different. Dean was more than happy, eager even, to just sleep next to him. It was getting to the point where he’d choose staying in bed with Cas over pretty much anything. And both of them knew this, so Dean knew he had to be careful with his answer.

“Actually, I’m gonna be a few hours. Baby was kinda making some funny noises on the drive back, like a rattling sound. I wanna check her out and fix her up before it turns into a real problem, might go for a little test drive when I’m done. I’ll be as quiet as possible. Goodnight, Cas.” He pulled him in for a brief kiss, half for pleasure and half to wipe the guilt inducing look of concern off Cas’ face that almost had him chickening out. He gave Cas a good ten minutes to get to bed as he tidied and fretted about the kitchen, before shooting a quick text to Claire.

Garage. 2 minutes. Stay Quiet. - D

Dean waited anxiously in the Impala. He was absolutely convinced that there’d be a whoosh of wings and Castiel’s feathery ass would be right there in Impala, bitching Dean out for breaking his trust. Thankfully, the only sound in the garage was the slow creak as Claire yanked open the car door with entirely too much force and the even louder slam as used her full body weight to pull it shut. Still wary of any sounds, Dean simply shot her look of annoyance and pulled out the garage as quietly as possible, keeping the revs low and coasting out onto the road.

The drive there was just as fast as Dean promised. In her excitement for the concert, Claire completely forgot to hate him. She didn’t exactly speak to him, but there was no shouting or even glaring. In fact, when his totally real and legitimate ‘backstage pass’ got Claire right up against the front barricade, she actually hugged him. An awkward side hug but a hug all the same. The music was a little too much pop, not quite enough punk or rock for Dean’s tastes but the sheer volume combined with the excitement of just being away from the bunker was entertainment enough. There was a tangible buzz in the air; a mixture of sweat, excitement and the thrum of the bass vibrating through the floor. Not one person left the event without ringing ears. The car ride home was special. Maybe not from an outsiders point of view but to him, and Claire too Dean suspected, it was a big turning point. Claire spoke enthusiastically about the concert, raved about the burgers they stopped for and ranted about her favourite bands the whole way home. Dean listened to every word with a smile on his face, relishing every new detail he learned about her. To his surprise, the two were very similar.

They were both still laughing about an incident at the concert when the impala rumbled back into the garage. They both stopped laughing the second the headlights illuminated the figure of an extremely pissed off Castiel. He was in his pyjamas, flannel pants and an old t shirt of Deans, which would usually be incredibly endearing. However, when paired with an expression of smitey anger and a pair of arms crossed so tightly they appeared to be bursting at the seams, the pyjamas were nothing less than terrifying. No one moved for a good two minutes. The two in the car barely breathed for fear of triggering an explosive reaction. Eventually, when it was clear that neither Cas nor Claire would make the first move, Dean sucked it up and pushed the door of the Impala open.

He approached Cas, hands raised in surrender. “Look Cas, I know-”

“I’ll deal with you after, Dean. Claire, could you come here? Please.” His face remained steely as Claire walked, incredibly slowly, towards them. He only spoke once she was level with Dean, their faces both matching images of fear. “I don’t ask much of you. In fact, this may be the only thing I’ve ever asked you not to do. It wasn’t to ruin your life, it was because I was worried about you. When you asked me, I did some research and found these events could be very dangerous. You have no idea how worried I’ve been. I’m so disappointed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Claire’s cheeks were tinged an intense pink as Cas explained himself, intensifying to a burning red shame as he stated his disappointment. “I’m really sorry, Cas. Night, Dean.”

Despite the guilt, Dean couldn’t help the rush of pride he felt when Claire actually acknowledged him in a pleasant manner. Cas also seemed shocked at the interaction, even completing a rare double take as Claire retreated. There was a continued silence once Claire left and Cas led Dean towards their shared bedroom. Cas shut the door behind them, leaning against it for a second as Dean began to change into his own pyjamas.

“Was Claire actually nice to you? Did you have a good night? I know I’m supposed to be angry but I’m curious.” He was still leaning back against the door, arms crossed but the steely expression was replaced with a small smirk.

Dean was still struggling to get dressed, hopping about with one leg in his pyjama pants. “Huh? Yeah, Cas, the night was good. Listen, I know you didn’t want her to go and I know you didn’t want me to take her and I know I lied to you, even though we promised not to do that shit anymore, and I’m sorry for the lies but I’m not sorry for taking her. Look Cas, something had to give. We were arguing all the freaking time, she hated me and -”

“Thank you, Dean. Thank you for finding a way to connect. I would have preferred it if there were some other, less anxiety inducing way for the two of you to bond but I don’t know why I expected anything less than blatant disregard for rules from either of you.” He pushed off the door, approaching Dean, “Obviously I’m going to act mad at you the second we step outside this room, don’t expect me to do any chores for at least a month and please do your hardest to keep the peace with Claire. I’ve been up half the night worrying." There was a short pause for an adorable yawn, "We’re both tired. Goodnight Dean, love you.”

He placed a chaste kiss against Dean’s lips before climbing into bed and switching out the lights, leaving Dean dumbfounded but grinning in the dark.

It was worth it.

#destiel #destiel drabbles #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #charlie bradbury #domestic #destiel fic #claire novak #kids #parent!destiel

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