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elizabeethan · 4 years ago

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Watch The Sunlight Fade: 3 / 18

Emma Swan finds out that her boyfriend has been hiding something from her: he’s in a gang and trying to get out. Reluctantly, she decides to support him, sticking it out with him until they have enough money to flee to Florida. All she has to do is wait and ignore that feeling in her gut that something is seriously wrong. With the help of a kind and handsome stranger, she just might make it out alive.

Or, alternate summary: I’m horrible at summaries, please just read it.

Something of a cross between a What Still Remains AU and a Sons of Anarchy AU.

A/N: You may have noticed a chapter count! It’s subject to change, but I’ve outlined the whole story and have written halfway through chapter 12, so we’re getting there, friends. Reminder to check warnings and tags and message me if you have questions. There will be depictions of violence, domestic violence, very very brief discussions of non-con (kind of) and psychological abuse throughout this story.

Rated M

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~~~~

The door to his apartment slams behind her as she stumbles in, the alcohol in her veins obviously taking over as he helps to steady her. “Easy,” he warns, hand on her waist as he guides her towards the guest room.

“You’re not gonna let me stay in bed with you, big guy?” she slurs, giving him a flirty smile.

“No, love,” he answers softly. “You need rest.”

With a giggle, she answers, “I get paid to have sex with people. Shouldn’t you be flattered that I’m soliciting you?”

“Tink,” he laughs, “I am very flattered. But you need to go to bed.”

“I can still give you a good time even though I’m drunk, you know,” she promises, letting her fingers dance along the lapels of his jacket.

“I know that, love. I just think… perhaps it’s time to… bring this arrangement to a close.”

She pouts, her bottom lip popping out and her brows furrowing. “Something I said?” she asks.

With a slight shake to his head, he smiles shyly down at her and brushes a wayward strand of her honey locks out of her eye. “No, but perhaps we can finish this tomorrow morning when you’re sober?”

Tink shrugs, letting her heavy kids fall closed and turning around to stumble down the hall. “It’s okay,” she says as she finds the doorknob. “I know it’s that blonde girl.”

“Liv…” he starts, although he isn’t sure where he’s going as he begins to speak. It’s not the blonde girl, not really. Although he felt a connection to her from the moment he saw her, he also knows that his and Tink’s fling is just that: a fling. It can’t last, and while he likes her well enough, he thinks it unfair to continue on with something to which he isn’t fully dedicated. “It’s not you.”

She snorts and nods her head lazily, letting it flop a bit too freely on her neck. “It’s not you, it’s me. I get it.”

“Hey,” he tries again, giving her a soft smile as he tucks away the same defiant strand of her hair. “I’ll always be here for you, you know that. I’ll always have love for you.”

“Yeah,” she smiles with a soft blush, her lids looking heavier and heavier with each passing moment. “I love you, too, bud. It was probably a bad idea to sleep with your best friend anyway.”

“I’m not sleeping with Robin,” he deadpans, knowing with certainty that it’ll draw a hearty laugh from her. She pushes against his shoulder with more force that she was likely expecting and turns around to open the door to his guest room.

“You dolt.” Once she’s in the room, just as she’s about to shut the door behind her, she spins quickly to face him once more. “By the way, you’re a total idiot if you go after her.”

“Bloody hell, not you too,” he complains as he scratches behind his ear.

“She belongs to Cassidy and you know it. You know what’ll happen if you pursue her.”

“Aye, that’s why I have no intention of doing so. Now, go to bed, Olivia.”

“Ooh,” she fakes a shudder, “full name; I must've been naughty.”

“Aye, you were. Goodnight, love.”

“Night, KJ.”

He listens to her giggle as she stumbles through the room, one she’s stayed in countless times before. She’s right; they probably never should’ve started their affair in the first place. Sleeping with your best friend is bound to end badly. But they understand each other, each of them here with hardly a choice on whether they stay or go. It isn’t as if they’re being held against their will, but the implication is that they’ll seriously regret it if they try to leave, one way or another. They simply both took comfort in knowing that someone else felt as they did.

He’s about to go to bed himself, ready to rid himself of the guilt that came along with the events of the day, but he pauses as he walks by his front door just in time to hear a resounding thud coming from across the hall. He panics and swings his own door open when he hears the terrified cry in response. He heard something earlier today that sounded exactly like that terrified cry.

Rushing over to Neal’s apartment, he places his hand on the knob and presses his ear to the door. He doesn’t want to burst in with haste since he has no idea what he actually heard, and the door must be locked anyway. But he can’t help but recall the image of her pressed to the door looking horrified, two knives on either side of her throat. He can’t get the look in her eyes out of his head.

There aren’t anymore sounds resonating from the apartment, silence falling over him as he attempts to listen out for signs of trouble. After a moment, all he hears are soft, painful sobs coming from the other side of the door.

~~~~

It’s surprisingly even more terrifying to be in the shop during the day than it was at night. At least when she was here last night, the shadows kept the frightening details of the space hidden, but now that the sun is up and streaming through the small basement windows, she’s able to see too much.

She can see the aged and worn paint on the walls, giving her an automatic and infallible feeling of unease. She can see the decorative weapons proudly displayed on every inch of every wall. She can see the rugged violence on each of the men’s faces so clearly in the sunlight. Being here terrifies her.

“Morning, Miss Swan,” Peter greets as Neal leads her into the large meeting room. He’s already sitting at the table waiting for them, Gold at his right and two empty seats to his left. There are several other members at the table as well, and she can’t help but notice how bright Killian’s eyes look in the sun streaming through the windows. “Welcome to your first real family meeting.”

The others around the table laugh, everyone but Jones seeming to find his joke about her near death experience to be funny. “Aren’t you going to say hello?” Neal asks in her ear, his voice low and his teeth clearly clenched.

She clears her throat and gives Peter the fakest smile she can muster. “Good morning.”

“That’s a good lass,” he praises, setting free a flock of anxious butterflies in her stomach. “Come sit. We saved you a seat by Neal.”

They sit side by side, and it’s becoming easier and easier to question his ranking within the group of men at the table. She finds it impossible to see him as a simple lackey when his name is carved into the table in intricate lettering in front of his chair, directly to the left of Peter's seat at the head.

There are talks of their plans, and she gathers some information easily while they seem to go to great lengths to keep other things hidden from her based on the threatening glances Peter doles out from time to time. There’s a trip coming up, and it’s automatically assumed that Neal will be going with Peter and Gold will be staying behind, as if this arrangement was made and agreed upon a lifetime ago. Once the other attendees are determined, Peter turns to face her and gives her a smile.

“Now, a job for you, my dear. Neal tells us you have a talent in finding people.”

“She can find anyone,” Neal says proudly, referring to her short stint as a bail bondsperson back when she lived in Boston. When she had met Neal after he witnessed her taking down a skip, he took her under his wing and told her she didn’t have to live such a dangerous lifestyle anymore. “Well, almost anyone.”

Her stomach flips at his hint; at his willingness to bring up one of the most painful memories she has. She’s great at finding people, but in 25 years, she still hasn’t been able to find her parents.

Pan hums. “We can look past a few failed attempts. What we need from you now, Emma, is your skillset to find a certain someone who deserted our cause.”

She gulps. “You want me to hunt down someone who doesn’t agree with you?”

“No love,” he laughs, and Neal’s grip on her hand tightens just a notch. “I want you to find someone who has valuable information and won’t hesitate to hand it over to a rival.” Emma bites her lip in thought, concern likely colored across her face. She hadn’t considered the existence of a rival gang before this moment, and she becomes frightened to think of there being more than one set of men like them. The thought that another gang is out there and considers themselves rivals to The Lost Boys means she’s potentially putting herself in even more danger by becoming associated with them. What will another gang do to the girlfriend of one of their rival’s members, especially a member whom she suspects is higher up in the rankings than he’s letting on?

“It’s not lost on me that you’re feeling uncomfortable here, Emma. The tension between you and Neal is perfectly palpable. But I’d implore you to let go of your fears; no one here will harm you. We’re here to protect you. By simply being associated with Neal, you have the protection of everyone in this club. And I’m sure it makes perfect sense that we would expect something of you in return for our unquestioning devotion to your safety.”

Although something about his words makes her suspicious, she suddenly feels a sense of strength at his claim that she’s a part of the group now. It’s as if he’s telling her that her thoughts and opinions matter, so she makes a bold choice and speaks up. “Can I clarify something?” she asks.

“Of course.”

“What are you protecting me from, exactly?”

Peter smirks and shakes his head, giving Neal a look that she can’t quite read. “I suppose Neal hasn’t informed you of how dangerous a place this world can be for a woman like you, Miss Swan. Your love for Neal makes you a target, as does Neal’s love for you. By falling for him, you’ve also fallen into our world. And because we’re so devoted to what you have to offer, we will protect you from everyone who may want to hurt Neal.”

“Just because I can find people pretty easily?” she asks doubtfully. His explanation isn’t making any sense to her. She can’t rectify in her head how loving Neal can equate to requiring constant protection, especially based on his claim that he’s going to be leaving soon.

“No, Emma,” he laughs condescendingly, as if he were talking to a child who couldn’t handle the truth. She wonders if he’s right. “Worry not; all will make sense to you as time goes by. For now, let's get started with your first assignment. Hook, show the lady to her office.”

~~~~

“Most sites are blocked here,” he explains as he powers up the old desktop, groaning softly as he stands again. “You’ll likely run into trouble if you try to find him on Facebook or anything.”

“Why?” she asks, and although she immediately regrets opening her mouth, the look he gives her feels more amused than anything.

“Why?”

“Um… why are they blocked?”

He breathes out a laugh, shaking his head and looking away from her once he notices that the computer has booted up. “To keep you out of trouble, I suppose.”

She bites her bottom lip, squeezing her fists until she feels the sting of her nails digging into her palm. She isn’t sure that, in the last day since she’s come here, she’s been kept out of trouble at all. She’s been in trouble-- in danger-- since she heard those bikes pulling up behind her and Neal.

“Right,” she says softly, sarcastically, and again, she kicks herself for opening her mouth. She wonders what would have happened to her by now if she was with anyone but Jones in this moment.

“Love,” he starts, his voice soft and tender, and she almost wonders if he intends to step close to her. Perhaps he means to comfort her. “I’m--” he clears his throat, “If you need anything…”

Their eyes meet, and it’s like the first time again. His azure stare bores into her in a way that makes her shudder, but not out of fear this time. She feels seen, understood, and while it’s only been a day since her traumatic greeting from the club, it feels like a lifetime since she’s felt a sense of safety. It feels comforting to meet his gaze, and she suddenly lets her breathing steady and her heart rate settle. “Thank you,” she whispers genuinely. She isn’t sure how she could relay it to him if she does need something, but the way he looks at her tells her that he’ll know.

For the first time since she’s been here, her safety appears to be a priority to someone. Relief washes over her and she lets it, despite knowing that it will dissipate the moment he walks out the door.

~~~~

“How’s it goin’ in here, my little worker bee?”

She looks up from the computer she’s been staring at, met by Neal leaning against the door jamb with his arms crossed. The dinosaur she’s working on is hardly functioning, most sites she’s tried blocked and inaccessible and the speed at which it loads each page almost painful. After almost a week of working on the assignment they’ve given her, she’s found almost nothing.

“Hi,” she mumbles, turning back to the screen. All they had given her was a name and a last known location, and she’s struggling to find more.

“Doing alright?”

“I can’t find much,” she says.

“You’ll find him; you’re smart. I wonder if that’s genetic,” he says with a laugh and a smirk in her direction. She isn’t sure what he means or how to respond, so she simply smiles somewhat awkwardly and moves on. She refuses to let herself wonder if this is another dig at her for being parentless.

“It just feels impossible. This guy, Graham… are you sure he even exists?” she jokes.

He laughs, but it’s forced and she doesn't detect a genuine smile. “Are you doubting Peter?”

Emma looks up at him, meeting his eyes with confusion colored in her own. “No,” she starts, although she isn’t sure if she’s being truthful in her answer. “It’s just…”

Neal shoves away from the door and slinks closer to her, bending at his knees and squatting until his eyes meet her level. “Ems,” he starts, his hand landing on hers and applying what she thinks is meant to be a comforting amount of pressure. “Don’t start.”

“What…?”

He groans and leans away from her. “It's not a damn secret that you aren’t happy to be here. I need you to be better about that.”

She lets her jaw hang open for a bit longer than she means to, shock taking over her as he confirms what she’s been suspecting since the meeting she attended. “Neal,” she starts, “you’re the one who said you want to get out. You said we could leave after a few weeks.”

“And?”

“Uh… and… it’s been a week and you don’t seem like you’re… I mean… it seems like you're happy here.”

“So what?”

“What do you-- so what? You said we were leaving and now it’s like they're your family!”

Neal stands quickly, spinning from her in exasperation as he thrusts his hands into his hair. “You’re being so-- stop judging me! What do you even have to complain about?! They’re being nothing but nice to you. You have a home now, I feed you, I love you, we protect you… I don’t get what your damn problem is!”

“The knives, Neal!” she shouts, unable to hold back the emotional response to his nonsensical claims. “You threw knives at my head!”

There's a loud smack against the desk she sits at, and she’s brought back to the reality of her experience and out of the false sense of control that she let herself believe she had. She has to force herself to move on from the thought that she and Neal are able to have a conversation. When she looks down to where his hand met the surface, she sees his gun held beneath his palm. She pales.

“It’s time to move on,” he hisses quietly, his voice taking over the silence of the room. It’s another threat. Another convenient way to show her that he has power over her. That he can take everything away from her, even her life, in a second if she gives him a reason to. “You weren’t in danger, baby,” he says, his voice more soothing this time, drawing from her that feeling again. The feeling that she’s overreacting. “I had it under control, remember?” he asks, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

She sighs heavily at the feeling of his lips tracing along her jaw until he reaches her neck. “You did?” she asks weakly. With his sudden change in demeanor, his obvious desire not to make her feel unsafe anymore, she feels something shift between them.

“Of course I did; don’t be stupid. You know I did.”

It feels good, she lets herself realize. As her eyes slip closed and a soft breath escapes her lips, she makes herself relax into his touch. With her sense of sight cut off, she feels herself giving in to his touch in favor of feeling some sense of relaxation after a week of hypervigilance. His rough stubble scratches at her skin, something she normally doesn’t like, but right now, she doesn’t think she minds too much. With her eyes shut, the rest of the world closed off from her mind, she thinks she could appreciate some stubble.

She feels the smooth leather of his sleeve under her fingertips and she likes it. Sure, she’s always thought the leather jackets were sexy, but here and now, something about him in it becomes more appealing. But when his hand creeps up her waist, his touch a bit too rough, too domineering, she flinches.

“Shh,” he hisses softly, attempting to soothe her. “It’s alright.”

At the sound of his voice, something snaps within her and she stiffens. It sounds wrong, she realizes. “Wait,” she murmurs as his hand creeps under her shirt.

He breathes out a disbelieving laugh. “Seriously?”

“I just,” she starts, nervous as he pushes away. “We’re… I mean, we’re here.” She gestures around the room, hopeful that her discomfort at the thought of sleeping with him in this office where anyone could walk in is clear.

“Right. So when we get home, you’ll be more than willing?” he asks doubtfully, rolling his eyes.

“Neal,” she begs softly, unsure of where she went wrong. She’s unsure of how she could have messed this up when she was the one to express her own discomfort. “Please.”

“Please,” he mimics, his voice rising in pitch. “I’ll see you in a week.”

With that, confusing words exchanged between them, he’s out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

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#Watch the Sunlight fade #Sunlight ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan angst #cs ff #gang au #captain swan au #modern au #angst with a happy ending #tw: domestic violence

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talesofesther · 4 years ago

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Anchor - Part 9

Five Hargreeves x Reader

Masterlist with the other parts

See part one for important notes

A/N: This part is really sweet, I liked it, and I think it has a reeeally nice flow to it. The idea I initially had for this was entirely different but as I was writing things just happened and it turned out like this. I changed it a couple of times to fit Five's character so I hope it's good enough. If you wanna be added to the tag list, let me know. ♥

Y/N took slow steps into the filthy place. In every sense, this place defined everything she didn't like. Sweaty and rich men were screaming at the top of their lungs, swinging their money around, urging incessantly for the men on the ring to fight to the death, or at least until they're unconscious. The dim light and downright bad structure made everything look even worse. Like the ones fighting were more animals than humans. Y/N felt nothing but uncomfortable here.

It was hard to believe that it was Luther the one on the ring, this didn't feel worthy of him. Or anyone for that matter. The man Luther was fighting with was big, but somehow he still managed to be bigger.

However, he wasn't fighting back. At some point he started to take all the hits, his face starting to become bloody, and he still asked for more.

"What's he doing?" Y/N asked, on edge with the scene unfolding before her.

"I don't know" Five said as he gripped the fence tighter. "Luther are you crazy? Just hit him!"

Everyone was yelling the same thing to him, to fight back. But he didn't, and with one last punch, Luther went flying and landed on the ground. Blood coming out of his mouth, sweat all over his body, but he looked weirdly pleased. That's one scene Y/N would never imagine happening.

Slowly, the people started to leave the horrible place. Everyone seeming equally surprised by the outcome of the fight. Five, Y/N, and Vanya were currently standing outside.

"We need to speak with him" Five insisted, his hands on his pockets while his foot hit the ground anxiously.

"I know Five, but I think everyone has had quite enough for today. Especially him, we can come here first thing tomorrow morning" Y/N tried to reason with him as it was pretty clear that Luther was in no shape to talk right now.

"I agree with her, I have to go back to the farm" Vanya stepped into the conversation. She looked weirdly naive for someone that already caused an apocalypse. Everyone makes mistakes, I guess. Y/N thought.

Five let out a long sigh, he was clearly impatient and not at all happy with the decision. "Alright, fine. First thing tomorrow morning, be here Vanya". Then he turned to Y/N. "Let's go".

_________

It was a little late already, so Elliott's place was dark. Everyone was probably asleep already, so, at the moment, Y/N and Five were the only ones up. She turned on one of the table lamps in the living room, it did a poor job of illuminating the place, but it was all she needed. The darkness did help with calming her nerves anyway. The girl threw herself on the comfy couch and let out a sigh, closing her eyes and enjoying the peace of the moment.

But not a second later, a bright light hit her face, making her frown and let out an annoyed groan. Five had to disturb her peace by turning on the light in the kitchen.

Y/N slowly turned her head to his direction, an unpleasant look on her face. "Why do you have to drink so much coffee?" The girl asked in a lazy and unamused tone.

Five only glanced at her form on the couch and turned his eyes back to his mug, a small smirk on his face.

Scoffing, Y/N turned her head towards the ceiling and muttered "rude".

"This... Can harm you, you know?" The girl got up from the couch and made her way to Five with slow steps. A malicious grin was adorning her slightly parted lips, making Five almost drop his mug.

The boy raised one of his eyebrows at her, shifting from one foot to the other but never looking away from her figure.

"Yeah, high blood pressure. Anxiety. Insomnia. Rapid heart rate. The list goes on" stopping with just a small distance between them, Y/N crossed her arms. Taking the opportunity to eye Five up and down. He was just a little taller than her, his eyebrows always a little frowned in concentration, his soft hair perfectly falling above his eyes, and his knuckles slowly going white while holding the mug. "I'm afraid you're gonna break that if you grip any tighter" Y/N said in a whisper as her gaze lazily moved from his mug to his eyes.

Five let out a nervous chuckle, almost forgetting how to breathe. What is she doing? She's... Different. Were the only things in his confused mind. Her words, the way she was holding herself, her body so close to him. It made him feel uneasy, and yet he wanted her even closer.

"Are you drunk?" Was the only thing he could say without losing his composure.

That made Y/N finally go back to her normal self as she let out a genuine laugh and walked away from him, back to sit on the couch. Apparently very amused with the way she made him feel.

Five sighed as he shook his head at her. This girl. He slowly followed her steps, sitting beside her on the couch, putting a reasonable distance between them. His mug firmly in his hand.

"No. But I am exhausted, which is... Basically the same thing" Y/N said, once Five made himself comfortable beside her.

Five brought his mug to his lips and took a sip, a small smile on his face. "You're weird".

That made Y/N fully turn her body to him, sitting sideways on the couch. She faked an offended expression and said "excuse me sir. Compared to you and your family I'm the definition of normal". Without even finishing, Y/N was already laughing.

Five chuckled and looked down at his lap to his half-empty coffee mug. "Fair enough" he whispered to her. Y/N made him feel incredibly light, free. But his mind always went back to the same place, playing cruel tricks on him. You don't deserve this. It's not real. How would she like someone like you? Those were the thoughts that often came to Five's head whenever he felt like letting her in. Just like now.

It all still hurts so much, and he's not even sure why. He wants her company so badly, and he has it now. So why does it feel like someone is squeezing his chest?

To Five it was nothing but confused emotions. But the truth is that he craves all of this so much. The touch, the conversation, the connection with someone real. That he's terrified that it isn't real, that in the blink of an eye everything will just end and she'll leave. Or worse, die. He felt alone for so long and now she was making him feel cared for, she was giving him everything he craved for so long and he just wanted it to be... Real. But what if this was all in his head and in one wrong movement or word he drove her away?

And it all made Five feel so overwhelmed all of a sudden. His mouth became dry, his throat felt annoyingly tight. That he missed the small tear that scaped his eye and made its way down his cheek.

But Y/N noticed. She noticed how his hands holding the mug started to tremble, how his breathing was fast and shallow, and how his eyes remained on his mug, but his stare was so lost and far away. Y/N was familiar with anxiety and panic attacks, and maybe this wasn't exactly the case here, but it was definitely something along those lines.

So the girl carefully took the mug from his hands and placed it on the coffee table. Then, ever so gently, she sat a little closer to Five. His face looked troubled and his eyes were glossy with tears in them. It broke her heart to see him like this. Y/N slowly brought her hand up and brushed away the one tear that had fallen on his soft cheek.

Her touch made Five finally turn in her direction and be aware of what just happened. He was about to full-on panic because he just cried in front of Y/N. His whole body tensed and he was preparing himself to teleport away or just make a run for it. But then her hand remained there for the next couple of seconds, her thumb lazily caressing his cheek, a kind smile on her lips. And he couldn't bring himself to move a muscle.

Y/N could visibly see the exact moment he came back to reality and realized what happened, and only when she saw that he wasn't going to disappear on her, that she removed her hand from him. She could tell he felt vulnerable right now and it was obvious this wasn't a common feeling for him. The entire way he was portraying himself right now was totally uncharacteristic of him, and Y/N knew that. Hence why he looked like he had seen a ghost. She wasn't going to ask why he was suddenly like this, it wasn't her place to pry.

The living room was still partially dark, making them both feel shielded from the real world.

"Have I ever told you the story about this scar?" Y/N's voice had a very low tone, only for him to hear and to not break the intimate aura of the room. Five's body was still tense, feeling himself lost as he had no idea what to do with himself now. But he looked down at her hand.

Y/N showed him the scar that had hunted her for many years. It wasn't big, it ran from the end of her palm and just some inches past her wrist, and it was clear that it was from being burned.

Her voice remained gentle as she said "I got it from the night that I lost my parents". The girl looked up at Five with a sad smile on her face. He met her eyes as well, his lip would occasionally quiver but his eyes looked more focused already. Y/N's attempt to drive his mind away from whatever it was that was bothering him was working.

"There was a fire in our house, it spread quickly. I was just... A little girl, terrified, I had no idea what was happening." Y/N furrowed her brows as she vaguely remembered that night. Five's attention was almost fully on her again.

"I could hear people arguing, fighting. Then my mom... She found me and told me to run, as fast as I could. I didn't want to leave her, but I did. While I was getting out I... Burned my hand, at the time I was so scared that I didn't even felt it." Now it was her eyes that were filling with tears. But before they could spill, she felt a feather-like touch tracing her scar. The fact that Five was willingly reaching out to her sent a shiver running down Y/N's spine.

Brushing her tears away, she continued "the- the day after, I found out that my parents had died. So, from then on my aunt raised me. Every day I would ask myself the same question 'why didn't my mother run away with me'?" Y/N chuckled. "Guess I'll never know".

She rested her head on the back of the couch, her eyes looking at Five in an adoring way. He looked calmer, which made a small smile come up to her face.

Five gulped. "I'm sorry about that" he said with a wavering voice. He felt ashamed, vulnerable, and confused. But he felt no desire to leave her, on the contrary, he carefully moved his hand down from her wrist and grabbed her hand properly. His grip was unsure, afraid even, but he remained there anyway. His eyes frantically searching her face for any signs of disapproval, but he only found... Affection. That made his eyes water all over again.

"Me too" Y/N said in a barely audible whisper. She gripped his hand tighter, and with a smile, leaned her head down to rest on Five's shoulder. "We'll be okay, Five" with this last whisper, the girl closed her tired eyes and fell into a peaceful sleep.

Five took a shaky breath, wondering what to do. After some seconds of looking around the room and debating with himself whether or not he should be there, he decided to let himself have this one night. His touch-starved body needed this more than he would ever care to admit. His fears and insecurities disappeared for now, and the only thing he could feel was her. Her hand holding his, her body pressed close to him, and her steady breath on his neck. Slowly, he nuzzled his face on her hair. Closing his eyes, more tears fell. He wasn't sure why, he never was, but now he was too tired to think about it.

Five didn't have any nightmares that night.

When Y/N woke up the next day, she was laying in a very uncomfortable position on the couch. Alone. Rubbing her eyes the girl got up and looked around the empty room, the events of last night slowly making their way back to her brain.

The girl made her way to the kitchen to grab herself a glass of water when suddenly a blue light appeared and almost made her drop her glass. "Jesus Five" Y/N muttered while cleaning the drops of water she spilled on herself.

Five didn't expect her to be up already, his breath hitched in his throat at the sight of her. The... Moment they shared last night made him confused about where their relationship stood, it also made him think if he had crossed any boundaries by staying with her for the night. He thought about why she decided to stay with him too, why would she? He clenched and unclenched his fists in his pockets in anxiousness. He felt so much, and he felt that his control was slipping from him more each passing day.

Putting her glass down, Y/N made her way to him. "Did you sleep well?" A small smile making it's way to her face, testing the waters.

Five met her eyes and gulped down his feelings. "We need to go see Luther". And with that, he turned around and left.

Y/N chuckled. Okay, so we're not talking about it.

"Sure" she adjusted her clothes and followed Five outside.

***

Thank you for reading ♥ the next part should be out soon. And if you have any idea about how this story should progress or anything you would like to see in it, please send me an ask or message and I’d be happy to include it. All opinions and feedback are appreciated ♥

Taglist

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astroninaaa · 4 years ago

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Hot take a talk about technoblade:

Okay look I've been part of this fandom since August(thank god cuz i watched it all live and it woukd be a nightmare to caatch up) I bring this up cuz i want to discuss my problem with technos character. I have watched every single techno livestream that he made on dream smp and believe it or not i used to be a techno sympathiser that is until doomsday. (By techno apologist standards i am qualified to talk about his character hooray..)

Now techno like every character is flawed if he wasn't he would be boring fandom. One of his biggest flaws is being a hypocrite. That is not something you realise until you compare what he says all the time so you need to look a little deeper to realise it and i don't blame people for not seeing it.

This wouldn't be that much of a problem because that is a character flaw among with many others but the problem that his character has faced is that he doesn't develop much.

Now i hear techno apologist jump at me every single time noooo he isn't a stagnant character he has developed a lot. I am not saying that he hasn't developed at all the problem is that he has developed very little especially when you consider everything.

His goals his ideas his perception of the world what he believes him everything that makes his character him hasn't changed much and that is not a good thing from a writing perspective. Now why do i bring this up. Firstly I'm not saying this to say techno is a bad writer far from it he can be very good when he puts his mind to it. The problem with keeping a character in this state is that it's very harmful for said character first and to the story and other characters second. Look even at yourselves i can guarantee that you aren't the exact same person you were like five years ago for example because during that time you made mistakes learned from them and you grew. Just like in real life you also can't stay stagnant in fiction.

Okay so that's the main problem with technos character that he is stagnant as a character. Now this wouldn't be as big of a problem if he didn't have the role that he has.

You see techno both c! and cc! are very good at the game basically. Now why do i bring this up. The reason why i bring this up is bc of where this places techno whuch is at the very top of the chain don't try and seny it. This means that he is one of the most powerful people on the server if you are going to try and go against this point just look at lmanberg guys that's living proof of how powerful and how terrifying he actually is. I know a lot of you are gonna say but every can get stacked or play the game but you guys forget that even if you are stacked you just don't have the skill and cc! Techno of the best people when it comes to that which bleeds into his character. Saying that is like looking at the upper class than looking at the lower class saying just get rich like it doesn't work like that.

Because of his role techno is literally the 1% by rl standards which means he can a lit of things free of consequences bc no one can give him said consequences. The butcher army was ig an attempt at that but they failed miserably let's be real here.

Because he is in the 1% is incredibly skilled at pvp and can do anything bc no one can challenge him this places him on a pedestal and creates a power imbalance a very big one at that.

And that leads to his biggest problem he has practically everything as said by Techno himself and is never challenged, but that's not an interesting character. An audience gets tired for a character that always wins or loses. Because if it happens repeatedly it just takes all the suspense oh he will win immediately. He will go and slaughter them problem solved. That's it every time. Something that techno himself confirmed is then when he has a problem he just stabs it (both of these were said during the egg stream).

And if you are going to bring the things he went through to say he's changed don't cuz as long as he doesn't act on it it means nothing. Like examples Red festival killed tubbo an ally. Traumatic experience right? This is a good moment to develop his character and give us more insight. What happens? Techno tries to dismiss it and shows us his anxiety and gives us insight on his character Great! Character development? Starting to question himself just a bit or any sign of that event having an effect on him? Nope! Why? Cuz he doesn't act on it instead he tries to hide the fact that ever happened and changes to a different topic bc there is no justification there and he knows it. Nov 16th c!technos pov he just got betrayed caused some damage wished death upon his former allies and left. Quite a dramatic scene. He feels betrayed time for some good old character development. Him thinking about himself and his actions. Reflecting on them. Great moment! Problem: literally everything that shows this is done off camera and now suddenly he's retired... Okay you know what fine it's alright he would probably expand upon and did a timeskip to explain the ling time he didn't stream. I see where it's comming from. The butcher army ge gets hunted down bc actions have consequences techno and you can't just run away like that not after doing that. Great point from the butcher army. Go give him some consequences his character needs it. And then he gets executed alright a bit too far but i guess that's how it goes in this server. Techno gets his life back immediately.. well that was a bit pointless but alright a cool scene for the animatic fair. Then he kills quackity.. the butcher army lost.. this.. what? But this was the moment of consequences... and quackity didn't get it back like techno the butcer aemy lost more than techno what? Moving along he teams up with tommy aannnd the 50 withers are up and ready of course you didn't fully retire what was i expecting. And now team up with tommy perfect way to learn about dream and give more insight on lmanberg and how dream is a tyrant and everything techno is supposed to stand against. The green festival tommy chooses tubbo over techno techno feels betrayed understandable.... and then he teams up with dream lmanberg is destroyed and the underdogs are beaten to the ground loose everything they ever worked for and are taught to be scared of the anarchists?!?!?!?!

Okay now hold up a sec I'll have to stop you right there. What. did. you. just. do. Cuz there is a limit to the amount of stuff you can let a character get away with. The line was crossed months ago this is not good at all.

Also what are yoi guys talking about consequences. Lives? All 3 home? Right there pets? The ones that died were the ones he brought expecting to not live he brought them there on purpose so they don't count. He is one of the most wealthy peoole on the server (no one beats ranboo lol) what did he exactly loose? Friendships? Was that all the hardships you guys have?

Lmanberg lost their home their lives their wealth their pets their friend everything they loved and lived for everything they stood for they lost a part of themselves in the end.

Look at the last 2 paragraphs and how imbalanced that is. How are you guys blind to this How?! And why did doomsday happen? Because the butcher army failed. And if anything techno proved them that they should have punished him harder with this.

So what was the lesson of doomsday?

That you shoukd obey the people on top and never go against them or you will loose everything you love.

Great lesson guys this is exactly the lesson the rich class and every single tyrant tried to teach society and this lesson is being told by the anarchist great job....

Do you see the problem now. This is the reason techno needs a consequence bc if he keeps going like this he will become a Mary Sue. And that is a horrible direction for a character that has a lot of potential. That potential is why i liked his character that much in the beginning but now it's almost non existent. Anyway I'll end this now cuz this went on for too long. That's basically my opinion on it feel free to share your thoughts.

okay. okay. i read this like three times bc. because look

i agree in some very specific points, but i disagree in very broad manners.

(this entire......... essay is all /rp and /nm!!!!)

anyways. send me hot takes!!!

i like c!techno. i personally think he's one of the most fun characters to watch because i enjoy the mess, the crazyness, the chaos of it all. watching doomsday through c!tommy's eyes was painful. watching doomsday through c!techno's eyes was just so fucking hilarious and exciting and fun. he's just a fun character to watch. he's just Funny. i am a fan. however

for starters: ctechno is, 100%, out of the park, an stagnant character. he has little to no development throughout the story. we see no changes in how he acts. that's not necessarily a bad thing, but considering the type of character he is, watching him develop (be it to an actually full-fledged villain or towards a redemption arc) would be ideal to keep him a character people can actually support.

i wouldn't say he's a hypocrite. c!techno has a very strict moral code and he follows it with no hesitation, with no doubts. the point is that his moral code is flawed and skewed. that doesn't make him a hypocrite, that makes him someone with bad morals.

calling c!techno "the 1%" is a stretch. for one- c!ranboo has as much resources, if not more, as c!techno does. he has dozens of totems, thousands of emeralds, and probably has one of the higher counts of diamond and netherite on the server. why is that never brought up? because it doesnt matter. c!foolish has so much gold and diamonds and netherite and just everything, really, and it's also never brought up/a reason for people to be afraid of him. the dream smp isn't a capitalist universe, there's no "1%". specially bc there's, like, i don't know, 20 players? that makes c!techno 1/20 OR 3/20 if we count c!ranboo and c!foolish. but that's not the point at all: the point is that ctechno is feared bc he's skilled and has a relevant personality, not bc he has resources. c!wilbur has no shit and he's still terrifying, there's no character willing to oppose him. not because of resources, but because of who he is. when c!techno first fled from l'manburg into "retirement" he had no shit either, it took him a while to be rich again. no one attacked him either way.

why, you ask? bc he fought against c!quackity with a fucking pickaxe and won. that's why. c!techno doesn't need resources to be feared. the power imbalance doesn't come from his resources, it comes from others’s fear. and they have a reason for that fear, bc c!techno hasn't been defeated yet. that has nothing to do with "upper class" and "lower class". because, one, not a capitalist system and class disparity isn't as simple as that, and two, even without his "riches" he still wins, bc he's got the skill. if you take out the skill, him being rich means nothing and he wouldve been easily killed by the butcher army or c!tommy or whoever decided to kill him. a good example is, once again, c!ranboo: if he wasn't friends with everyone and someone decided to actually fight him like was done with c!techno, he would've died. easily. being rich in the smp is relative.

c!techno will be challenged when we have a character strong enough to challenge him in a way that matters. it's important to be smart about it. that's why i'd love to see, out of everyone, c!philza turn against him, but that's a how other discussion (WHICH I'M WILLING TO TALK ABOUT.......... everytime i make these and i add little point i dont elaborate on and then say i'm willing to talk about them and no one ever asks me to <//3 PAIN /nm /lh).

i do think he's a character that just Always Win in narrative ways and that's very frustrating. he does need to get pulled a few notches down. again, that will only happen when we have a character that can step up to him and challenge him in a way that matters (woooo c!philza you want to hold c!techno accountable for his bullshit so bad woooo........)

now, onto c!techno's trauma. he doesn't need to show it. he- he doesn't. that's........ not how trauma works, and that's one of the points that make his trauma so forgettable for the viewers. c!techno is, from inside out, a character that hardly shows his emotions, but that doesn't mean he doesn't display symptons of trauma. he does, they're just a lot more subtle than other characters's. that doesn't mean he doesn't have any or that he isn't affect by it. c!techno is, in a lot of ways, a lot like c!tubbo: both of them don't mention the shit they've gone through and don't react to it and bc of that some of the viewers don't see how important some traumatic events were in their characterisation. that's why you analyse those characters's trauma through behavior, not through easily seen displays of trauma.

i do think it's taken a little too far with c!techno. the way he reacted to c!tommy's death was...... disappointing, to say the least. c!techno is an underwhelming character in many ways. as said before, it's because he's stagnant. that definitely needs to be worked on.

about the syndicate? yeah, no. theyre not teaching others to fear them. others just Do That bc of their history on the server, but they have literally talked about how they want to better their reputation, bc they don't want to be seen as murderers or oppressors in any way. are they flawed? yes, very much. they have no indicators of what is or isn't a government and they show no regard around the importance of a difference between an oppressive and a democratic government.

they had no right to show up at c!tubbo's door and interrogate him, because they can't appoint themselves as government police. for starters, that's not how anarchy works (they should've had everyone's permission for that. they obviously don't), but also it's just... stupid. it makes it seem that they're trying to boss everyone around so that they live like the syndicate wants them to, which goes directly against the syndicate's own ideals. however, c!techno thinks he has that right. he thinks this is what he's supposed to do. he's just following his moral code - his moral code is just deeply, deeply flawed. what he says and what he does contradict each other but not for him, not to his interpretation. to his interpretation, he's following his strict moral code.

what happened at doomsday was horrible and c!techno has to be held accountable for it, yes, but, again, no character knows how to work around c!techno enough to hold him accountable for it. that's not c!techno's fault.

l'manburg just deserved better, honestly, but to be fair c!techno has been taken advantage of time and time again (sometimes purposefully, sometimes not) and he's fucked up in the head, god bless LMAOOOOOOO

i agree that things need to change otherwise he's just gonna keep being a stagnant character who can get away with everything. i do think he has more to him than meets the eye, tho. meh idk that's still just analysis!!! we have no way of knowing the intent behind c!techno's characterisation, at least not for now. i hope for the best tho cc!techno don't let me down <3

#c!techno critical #adding just in case #technoblade #c!technoblade critical #hot take ask!!!#i don't excuse his actions i just think things are not that easily said and done.#also didnt say it but i would NOT call him a mary sue. the only server mary sue is ranboo i am so sorry- LMAOOOO #that's not the concept of mary sue at all. it just- no it's just not i'm sorry #but i see where you're coming from anon and i respect your opinion!!! i just added my own since i said from the start #that i'd be saying what i thought of y'all's hot takes. if anyone just wants me to post your hot take and not say anything about it thats #fine! just lmk otherwise i Will comment on it i am a Law Major. i cannot Help Myself from Discussions #LMAOOOOOO

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transmascdeanwinchester · 4 years ago

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You got any trans man dean headcanons? 👀

I don’t know when u sent this so sorry if I’m answering late!!!

Also I just have the basic bitch set of trans dean headcanons tbh but they make me go feral so I will repeat them!!

- lazurus rising when cas brought dean back he put him in the body he’s always deserved (the mirror scene lives in my head rent free baby!)

- teenage dean stealing testosterone from hospitals and pharmacies when he had the chance bc they moved around too much for him to have a stable prescription pickup plan

- John being pissed for awhile that dean’s not his “perfect little girl” like he thought but getting over it bc dean is so determined to emulate him to prove his masculinity that it just makes him a better more fierce hunter and protector so John gets over it in like a year (Dean’s always been Like That anyway,,, in the grand scheme of things it’s less Distracting to have this small ongoing conflict that John just calls him Dean and does the passive aggressive “you wanna be a man? Act like it.” bullshit you know how it goes)

- Dean knowing he’s not a girl from a young age (like probably about 6) and teaches Sam to call him Dean and that he’s his brother from the time sammy can talk (Sam doesn’t learn Dean’s name is legally Deanna until he’s starting middle school)

- Dean binding in his teens by wearing those tank tops that are like skin tight but also stretchy material? With the built in bra part? he wears two of those under all the Normal Winchester layers and it gives him the flat chest (what isn’t flattened completely gets lost under his dad’s leather jacket he wears to school every day)

- it goes without saying but Dean, age 7, cut his hair for the first time in a shitty hotel bathroom mirror by trying to copy a dude in a shaving ad in a magazine (John didn’t even notice for three days)

- Dean gets top surgery after sam goes to Stanford when he’s supposed to be on a solo hunt (he tells John he’s hunting something but really he’s recovering at Bobby’s)

- Bobby, we are not surprised, is a good father figure and shut that shit down when dean explains that he’s just gonna hole up in a motel once he gets his surgery (“Boy, do you know how fucking dirty motel linens are? I am NOT letting you die from an infection and most certainly not leaving you Alone for months defenseless”)

- Dean using makeup to make his jawline a little sharper and more square even tho the iffy food situation growing up made sure he barely has any roundness to his face to begin with

- on the flip side dean playing up his fem features to use as a distraction when he hustles pool

- dean training his voice by trying to copy the sound of his favorite singers voices (and John since he hears his voice most consistently)

- dean knocking the shit out of transphobes (the comments don’t even have to be directed at him, he hears them and it’s ON SIGHT no question)

- dean acting like a womanizer bc that’s what Men Do and it’s all just literally part of his carefully constructed hyper masculine image bc it’s so so difficult to pick up anyone when what’s under theclothes don’t match what can be seen on the surface (Cassie is the first person he sleeps with and he’s so terrified but she doesn’t care holy shit she doesn’t care?)

- Dean chooses to keep his name close to his birth name bc that’s the name his mother gave him and he doesn’t want to disrespect her by completely changing it

- On the topic of dean’s hyper masculine image he constructs it from a mix of John and from the action movies he studies religiously when he has the chance (this is what boys like this is what every man dreams of being I have to like this too-) even tho he has enough action and violence in his actual life thanks,

- Dean not being big on faith because he can’t imagine some higher power choosing to make him be born in the wrong body and make him work so hard to fix it himself like life wasn’t hard Enough

- Dean being so immensely pleased when word gets around the monster worlds about the Winchester Brothers,,, the validity of your reputation being cemented in the way you’ve carefully crafted it to be

- Dean rationalizing that it’s okay for him to spend time and energy on making sure he’s presenting masc and getting the body language and mannerisms down because it helps him be better at his jobs as protector of his family and as a hunter (men are thought of as stronger/scarier, men are taken more seriously when interviewing locals/victim’s families, more authority is afforded to men)

- dean almost shooting a man in a bar bathroom when he’s fourteen and just needed to deal with shark week stuff real quickly but this drunk decided a “teenage girlie only has one use in a men’s bathroom” but dean just knocks him out and sprints back to the motel (dean doesn’t use public bathrooms after that if he can help it)

- dean not knowing the word transgender until he finds it in a library book while he’s supposed to be researching but really he’d heard the slur and needed to be clear on why it made him feel so icky so he was looking it up in the dictionary and he’s like Oh that’s Me

- Bobby doesn’t actually meet Sam and Dean until after Dean’s cut his hair for the first time and Sammy can only say half words (most Dee, which is good enough for Dean) so one of Dean’s first impressions of Bobby is him asking John “didn’t you have a daughter?” and John just giving a tired sigh because he’s too busy with the hunt he’s here for to try and get into it but Dean butts in with “No, he’s always had two boys, I’m Dean and this is Sammy” and Bobby doesn’t comment on this little high pitched voice or question it much because he’s babysitting this kid for the next two weeks and he doesn’t want it to be a hostile two weeks (and it never becomes a problem because by the end of week one Bobby never even entertains the idea that Dean isn’t a little boy)

- After Dean gets back from Hell literally the only thing that trips Sam and Bobby up (aside from that he just resurrected lmao) is that his shoulders are more squared and he’s just built more like he should be (see previous point about cas rebuilding him as he should’ve been!)

- Dean never having much money but he still donates to queer charities when he can (makes a point of it in June especially)

- Dean hangs a trans flag in his room at the bunker (and one in the dean cave too)

- The insane validation Dean feels at being called The Rifhteous Man (also the fact that Heaven Knew he was a man all along but didn’t lift a finger to make that any easier to show the rest of the world adds to dean’s general hatred towards them tho)

That’s all I can think of right now but just!! Trans Dean!!!!

Thank u for asking friend!!!

(@bowie-boy I am tagging u bc idk if u will see this post so hope that’s okay!!!)

#shut up sammy

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shiftytracts · 4 years ago

Text

Stop Wanting More, part 1 of 2 (T/M/A fic)

In which season-four Jon tries to quiet his hunger for live statements by gorging himself on paper ones, and Daisy tells him what she used to do when she got shaky between hunts. Part two here.

…For almost ten thousand words (~5.1k in this half, ~4.3 in the other), beeeecause of course I did.

Content warnings:

Disordered eating (mainly of the statement variety, but mentions also the literal kind)

Nausea, and brief descriptions of prior vomiting

Brief but not-ungraphic description of Jon’s (canon) Boneturning incident—so, injury, very mild body horror

Vague discussion of Daisy’s passive suicidality (in part two)

Animal cruelty and death: Daisy talks about hunting rats for sport (in part two)

—

Jon paused the tape recorder, closed his eyes, and tried to breathe. A statement’s second-to-last page was the hardest to get down. The dull ache that had begun under his ribs twenty minutes before now stretched down far enough to converge with the one in his stiff hips. His pulse throbbed in his stomach; he could feel it swell and recede beneath his hand with every beat. Nausea boomeranged up from somewhere under his navel. He reminded himself he could stop for now, finish this later—and, as always, that thought made him feel even colder than the sludge of other people’s fear pooling in his stomach. With his free hand Jon pressed Record again, and turned to 0101702’s final page. Oh, god, there was barely anything on it. Just the rest of this paragraph and then one more. He kept his eyes on the page, didn’t stop speaking its words, but fumbled blindly for another statement with his fingers.

“Knock knock,” Daisy said as she entered. “Christ—you’re still recording?”

In a flash Jon folded his hands on the table, sat up a little straighter, tried to suck in his gut. “Er—”

“Thought you said you were gonna do one more.”

“I’m almost done.”

“You’ve got another one right there.”

“I…” he considered I’m sorry, but then she’d say For what. “I don’t know what to tell you. It is my office.”

“Yeah, and your home,” Daisy scoffed—“and mine. Sort of.”

“D—did you want…? You’re welcome, to. Sit down, or….”

She did, on the arm of his couch. “I know, Jon. That’s not what I meant.”

“Okay.” To show he’d meant his welcome, Jon pushed his chair back from his desk and turned in it to face Daisy. Hopefully she’d remember he couldn’t ask What did you mean.

“I mean, don’t pretend this is work. How many statements have you had today? You don’t think that one can wait til tomorrow?”

Seven? Or would this one be eight. Jon forced himself to exhale out the portion of gut he’d been holding back since she arrived; it hurt too much to keep sucking in anyway. “A lot. I’m just.”

“Hungry, yeah.”

“Even when I’m stuffed I’m hungry.” He snarled a laugh, and set a rueful hand over his stomach like a fig leaf.

At first he’d tried sating the hunger with garden-variety food. That didn’t help much. Way back when he’d first transferred to the Archives Jon had fallen back into the old habit of forgetting to eat—which, yeah, not great, but, it did mean he remembered well how amazing it used to feel to cram down even a stale biscuit after too many hours’ inanition. All the hidden notes he’d found in yogurt and dry toast. He even remembered tearing up once at the taste of a banana, early in 2016. Before that he’d been sure he didn’t like bananas; afterward, for a short while he’d eaten one nearly every day, hoping vainly to recapture the ecstasy of banana after 14-hour fast. No luck, of course. After a few weeks he’d concluded he still didn’t much like banana as final course of healthy lunch. He’d especially disliked peeling them: how sometimes the stems bent without breaking, and the more times you tried the warmer, softer, more flexible they got. How little strings of peel still clung to the banana after you peeled off its main body, like static when you pull off a jumper. Or like the lint it leaves behind on your shirt. And the way bananas bruise, like people do. All these vestiges of its previous life—reminders it had lived to feed itself rather than him.

Since the coma, all people food—er. That was, all food intended for human consumption—tasted like that chase after a faded spark. Cloying and mushy and… organic, reminding him too much of the garden it came from. And the way it landed in his stomach was far worse. The original banana, the one Martin had pressed on him in the Archives in April 2016, had gone down like nectar, ambrosia, manna from heaven, &c.; the ones afterward, like an unwanted dessert always does. (Cloying. Mushy. A biology lesson mildly tapping its watch.) These days, though, eating regular dinner on a stomach empty of other people’s trauma felt like trying to fill up on cake. Not like cake after fourteen hours of nothing; Jon was pretty sure his 2016 stomach would have welcomed that. But like cake at dinner time. When you’re expecting, you know. Dinner. It gave him the brief, fake-seeming energy of a sugar high, and made him sick before it made him full.

Especially when he was otherwise ailing, for some reason? After Hopworth he’d treated himself to a lie down and a sandwich. The rest had helped, but he’d squandered most of the energy it gave him on the effort to keep the sandwich down. At that moment nothing, not even the coffin, had scared him so much as the thought of what it would feel like to throw up when you had only ten ribs on one side. He hadn’t expected losing them to hurt, at least not for long—had expected the rib to flow out of his skin into Jared Hopworth’s hand like an ice cube through water, which in retrospect was stupid given the testimony of Mr. Pryor in statement 0081103, but he hadn’t had time to reread that one beforehand and at the time Jon remembered only that Hopworth didn’t break his victims’ skin when he pulled out their bones. Turned out that wasn’t much comfort: he’d still had to break the ligaments attaching Jon’s ribs to his spine and chest. It had felt like a bad dislocation (four of them, technically), only instead of the feeling of bone pressing on things it shouldn’t there was an equally violating sense of tissue wallowing in holes that shouldn’t be there. He’d had this horror that if he were sick the flesh would crumple and pop where his ribs used to be, like when you try to suck the remaining water out of a near-empty bottle.

A few months after that he’d caught cold. (A point in the still-human column, Daisy had called it.) You know the first day or two of a cold, before the encroaching mucus takes out your ability to smell or taste properly, how innocuous olfactory phenomena like cheddar and laundry soap suddenly become Bad Smells, on par with the olive bar at a posh supermarket? Well, in a similar way, this one seemed to sharpen the dichotomy in his body’s opinions of people food and monster food. His lack-of-ribs had mostly healed by then though, so either vomiting with only ten ribs on one side did not cause the anomaly he’d feared, or, if it did, it hadn’t hurt enough for him to notice it in the cacophony (pucophony?) of other sensations.

(Daisy liked to play on words, so he’d been doing it more lately. This project the Eye seemed happy to help with, though in this case the suggestion arrived in his mind at the exact same moment as a reminder that, technically, the word cacophony can apply to sensations other than sound only by synecdoche.)

And then, a few weeks ago, when the whole Archives went down with norovirus… well, it wasn’t a fun time. He’d at first mistook the lethargy, weakness, trouble concentrating for signs of hunger—the new kind of hunger. Ms. Mullen-Jones’ statement about the Divine Chains cult hadn’t seemed all that bad, when he’d first recorded it. Scarier than if he’d read its events in a novel, of course; that was just how statements worked. He experienced them more vividly than stories, though less so than the events of his own life. (Because the people they happened to thought they were real! he’d told himself when he first took this job. It’s empathy, that’s all. Nope, sorry—evil magic.) When he read a paper statement these days, though, the knowledge it wouldn’t give him nightmares never quite left him. And he’d thought he was growing desensitized to the kinds of horror most people came to the Institute to report. Coming back up, though—maybe it was the fever, but god, the visions he got on that statement’s way out, of Agape and the soft, sticky hivecorpse of Claude Vilakazi’s followers—the way it made the donut he’d shoved down that morning (in a show of team spirit, god help him) come back up tasting like rotten rice wine—it was worse than the dreams. Worse, he could have sworn, than even the first time he ever dreamt Naomi Herne’s empty graveyard.

While hanging over the bowl of the Archives’ toilet waiting to see if he’d got it all up or if there was still more to come, Jon remembered thinking again of the banana Martin had given him. A few days earlier Daisy had made him watch the video of the I don’t understand this meme and at this point I’m too afraid to ask man vore-ing a banana; Jon had confessed to her, in a conspiratorial whisper-laugh, that for him vore itself had been one such meme until that very second, when the Eye had seen fit to inform him. But when applied to a banana, the term apparently just meant eating it peel and all. In 2016 Martin had broken the banana’s stem and pulled back a section of peel before handing it to Jon, so as to brook no argument. Was it really the banana itself he’d cried over? Not the gesture of friendship, when Jon deserved it so little? The thought of someone caring for him enough that when he got hangry at them they handed him a snack. Martin had been living in the Archives then, like Jon did now. Sleeping in Document Storage—a guest in a room owned by pieces of paper. Those bananas may have been the only thing that felt like his.

A Guest for Mr. Spider was about vore, technically. Not an uncommon topic in children’s literature. Some surmised that was where the fetish came from, though others maintained kinks like that were inborn, and the stories merely alerted their hosts to them for the first time. Red riding hood, three little pigs, little old lady who swallowed a fly. The Leitner touch was only the part where he drew you to his real-life lair and real-life ate you.

Looking back, that was probably the first thing he’d ever admired about Martin—how easy he’d made it look to skin a fruit. Not at the time admired, of course, but in those weeks afterward, when every banana Jon ate made him claw at the peel til his finger joints throbbed.

That stomach bug had struck the Archives with serendipitous timing, though. If he’d not found out how thin abstinence from the Hunt had made Daisy on the same day he’d barfed up a statement, Jon might not have pieced together what their combined evidence meant. Until then he’d put down his own post-coma weight loss to the fact he rarely ate more people food than a donut in twenty-four hours. Lots of avatars were scrawny, after all. Jane Prentiss, Mike Crew, Justin Gough, Annabelle Cane, John Amherst, Simon Fairchild. Jude Perry and Jared Hopworth could mold their respective fleshes however they wanted, so he didn’t count them as exceptions. True, Trevor Herbert’s bulk had struck him as odd; surely a homeless man wouldn’t waste cash on food his body no longer wanted. And what about Breekon and Hope? Did butterflies and a quartermaster’s pen and tongue sustain them? But maybe, Jon had told himself, it was like with alcohol. Maybe the avatars with more flesh on their bones had worked to develop a tolerance for (air quotes, heavy sarcasm) people food, for the sake of their physiques, or. So they could, he didn't know, eat socially? Without feeling sick, like Jon did whenever one of the others brought donuts.

Preposterously stupid, this theory seemed in retrospect. The truth was much simpler. It was like Jude Perry’d told him. She was strong and he was weak, because she fed her god with her actions, while Jon’s had had to resort to eating his flesh.

He wasn’t going back to live statements! That wasn’t an option; he knew that. He couldn’t feed his god with his actions. But he could have more paper ones. Maybe they were like the candles poor Eugene Vanderstock used to bring Agnes—the ones she’d sat over for hours. Hours and hours, inhaling the suffering that made them. They’d kept her strong enough, right? At least in body. All those people in charge of her care, all so much in her thrall—if she’d looked hungry one of them would’ve mentioned it in a statement.

During Jon’s school days, back when he was still trying to learn how to be a girl, this brief window had opened up right around age thirteen where the girls around him had enough self-consciousness to start developing eating disorders? But not enough to keep them secret. Thirteen had been this phase of, like, I’m a teenager now, see? I’ve got the teen angst now—SEE?! Where after they’d finished the day’s maths assignment, or while setting up microscope slides, one could overhear girls swapping self-harm anecdotes and tips for how best not to eat. Anne, whom he’d been almost friends with, went through two packs of chewing gum a day for a while. She would shove three or four sticks at a time in her mouth, then spit them back out into their wrappers as soon as they lost their flavor. Eventually they made her sick, and she switched to chain-sucking butterscotch discs. (Most artificial sweeteners, as the Eye now informed him, had mild laxative properties—including those used in gum.) Other acquaintances had brought comically large thermoses of coffee to school every day, and scurried to the toilet between classes. But it was another polyurious crowd that Jon kept thinking of, these days—the kids who would chug water every time they felt hungry. Trying to fill up on paper statements felt just like that.

He’d never understood that urge until now. Hunger was already a bad sensation; why would it help to add the further bad sensations of nausea and stomachache and cold? But now it made sense: feeling better was not the point. The point was to stop wanting more. He couldn’t get rid of the hunger, exactly—not in a way that mattered. Not the shards of glass in his belly, not the itch in his esophagus like a finger tapping behind his gag reflex, not the way simple motions like soaping his hands made his whole body ache. Not the sharpening of his senses to such a fine point that he jumped whenever Thérèse in the office above him shut her desk’s sticky drawer. (He hadn’t known that was what made the squeaky noise until a few weeks ago when the Eye decided he might like some office gossip. Even now he didn’t know which of the faces he sometimes passed up there belonged to Thérèse. She had no statements to make.) Nor the fog in his mind, though he tried sometimes to blame that on the Lonely. He couldn’t sate his hunger with paper statements—couldn’t make himself full, in the rosy way we usually connote that word. All warm and carefree and pleasantly sleepy. But he could cram the hole inside him with enough stale horrors that the temptation to chase down a fresh one momentarily left him.

And that was the new plan—to stuff himself with paper statements.

Tomorrow would mark two weeks since the day he’d first tried it. Brian from Artefact Storage had a statement to give him, Jon could feel—either Stranger or Spiral, it was hard to tell quite which. Something that caused paranoia. Not a great fit for that department. Good fit for a temple of the Eye, Jon supposed, remembering Tim and Michael Shelley. But Artefact Storage? God help him. He wondered if Elias had done it on purpose, hiring a paranoid man to work in a room full of objects that wanted him hurt. If so it must’ve been this one—this purpose. And on Wednesday mornings Brian manned the place all alone. Poor soul was already clinging to this job by a thread, though (so, Web…? That could cause paranoia too, as Jon well knew). Surely if Jon made him relive his trauma that would break it. Though perhaps that’d be a mercy. And but besides, two weeks ago Melanie had still lived here, and sat all morning between Jon’s office and Artefact Storage. Until she went to lunch. But by that time the woman whose laugh Jon could sometimes hear through the walls (Pooja, the Eye had since told him her name was) would have joined Brian. And it’d just be too weird, too risky, to go in and ask him about it with a third person in the room. Even if it wasn’t also evil.

So he’d read 0132210—the statement of Sierra Talbot, regarding a swimming pool whose depth changed every time she entered it—in hopes that’d make him quit thinking about the paranoid man down the hall. It didn’t, not really; paper statements didn’t take up as much of his attention as they used to. But he couldn’t get up and walk to Artefact Storage in the middle of one. When he finished and still couldn’t think of anything but Brian, he dug out another statement (this one from 1938, regarding a bad penny). Just to keep himself chained to his desk til lunch. And then a third (Liza Ho, attack of the killer seagulls). And by the end of that one he felt too heavy and cold inside to want to go anywhere but the couch. It made his stomach swell until it hurt to sit up straight, and the thought of shoving anything more inside made him feel sick—exactly like chugging water every time he felt hungry.

Basira had said maybe the Web just wanted to keep them so afraid of their own impulses they sat and did nothing so they couldn’t be puppeted. Maybe she was right. He’d never felt more like a spider, with his weak, skinny limbs and bloated stomach. Lying on the couch massaging other people’s horrors into more comfortable shapes inside him. Thank god he’d already given up tucking in his shirts, when he came back after the coma. Jon had worn the same trousers for three days in a row, now—shucked them off at the end of the day, hoping if he left them on the floor that’d convince him they were too dirty to wear again, and then slipped them back on over clean boxers in the morning. They were the only trousers he had that stayed up with the button left unfastened.

(Technically, the noun bloat refers to the feeling of weight or tightness in the abdomen. To describe a belly which has expanded beyond its typical size, one should use the word distended. Though these phenomena can occur separately, most people conflate them under the single word bloated. This trivia had seemed worthless when Beholding told him of it. But now he knew better. Every morning he woke up feeling like he’d had his whole torso replaced with the aching void of space, empty but for silver glints of pain that were the stars. And then he’d look down and find his belly still distended.)

Melanie and Basira didn’t know—at least not officially. They both seemed to have noticed how much more often lately they’d walked in on him recording, but Jon was pretty sure they suspected him less of bingeing on statements, more of pretending to record so as to avoid talking to them. He welcomed this misapprehension.

It was also possible they knew but declined to comment, since. Well, it was kind of a pathetic habit? Physically, a bit pathetic. Morally, though, such a big improvement over compelling statements by force that maybe they figured they ought to let him have it. If so he should be grateful, he reminded himself. Their pity, after all, was humiliating only in principle; Daisy’s teasing and concerned questions embarrassed him in practice.

“Enough navelgazing,” Daisy scoffed, but when Jon looked over at her he could see a smile creeping its way onto her face. “Look—finish the one you’re on, then come over here and I’ll. Tell you a story.”

“I—what?”

“Don’t know if it’ll count as a ‘statement,’” she said, with air quotes; “not much fear in it, more just.” She looked at the floor, then shrugged. “But it seems worth a try, yeah? Might make you feel better.”

“I-I, er. I really shouldn’t?” He meant in case it had a taste of human blood effect, but set his hand on his stomach again in hopes she’d think he meant he was too full.

“Yeah, you should. I want you to hear it.” Daisy shrugged again. “Think it might do you good to know.”

Jon turned back to his desk, unpaused the recording and wrapped up the statement. He’d quit bothering to record end notes on most of these—told himself he could add them in later, like he used to when he’d first taken this job. How proud 2016 Jon would have been to see how many statements the 2018 Archivist got through in a week.

He paused for a moment before standing up, to take as deep a breath as he could manage when stuffed full of paper. The end of that statement had gone down easier, since he’d had that few minutes’ break talking to Daisy, but he still didn’t love the idea of standing and walking. Especially since he knew once he got to the couch he’d be glued there by fatigue. If he didn’t pee now, he’d spend most of the night far enough into sleep to be paralyzed, but not far enough to numb his bladder. He excused himself to Daisy, promising to come right back. Then hauled himself up, with help from his cane and one arm of his chair.

Six limbs it took to maneuver this body now. Two more and he’d’ve gone full spider.

Three quarters of the way to the bathroom—that’s how long it took before the ache in his legs outpaced that in his stomach. He arrived on the toilet seat shaky and out of breath, as always. Months ago he’d given up standing to pee. When you sat you could rock back and forth, and cross your arms tight over waves of quease.

Not much came out, as was also usual lately. As far as Jon could tell, his body now required only enough water to keep his mouth from drying out while recording. Dehydration no longer made his head hurt, so, why bother. Good thing, too, he supposed—the last two weeks he hadn’t needed much non-metaphorical water inside for his body to parse that as needing to pee.

He let his trousers stay pooled around his ankles until after he’d washed and dried his hands. Then pulled up his shirt, to judge from his reflection whether they’d stay up with the fly undone. If he kept his hands in his pockets, yeah. Could you tell the difference, visually, once he put his shirt tails back down? Not for such a short distance. They wouldn’t have time to get disarranged.

It didn’t matter; Basira didn’t even glance at him on his way back, and all Institute staff who didn’t live here had gone home.

Jon opened the door to his office, said hello to Daisy but didn’t manage to look at her, and sat himself down on the other side of the couch. From the corner of his eye (or someone’s anyway) he saw her rise to her feet. “I’m gonna pee too,” she told him, picking her way toward the door; “get yourself comfortable, like you’re going to bed.”

“Where will you sit.”

“I’ll squeeze in.”

“I don’t mind leaving room for—?” Finally he made himself look up at her, in time to see her shake her head. Daisy hadn’t been strong on her feet either, since the Buried; she held herself up now with a hand on the doorjamb, elbow bent so her shoulder leant against that wrist. He regretted quibbling. “Never mind; I’ll just.”

“Really? You’re comfortable like that? You look like a sheep in clover.”

The knowledge came to him before he could ask her what that meant—complete with a nasty visual of what happens in cases acute enough to require rumenotomy. Jon swore he could feel himself swelling to accommodate this tidbit. His eye twitched in discomfort.

“Think I prefer ‘windbag,’ if it’s all the same to you.”

She made a face like that was grosser than what she had said. “You ruined my joke. I was gonna say I won’t let you have any more leaves til you look less like you might explode.”

“Sheep in clover suffocate,” Jon frowned; “they don’t explode. You must be thinking of how they cure them when—”

“Leaves. In. A. Book, Jon. That joke.”

“Oh. Yes, I see.” He made himself chuckle.

Daisy sighed and shifted on her feet. “I’ll be right back. Just lie down, alright? Like you’re going to bed.”

Jon agreed to lie down, but couldn’t decide whether to face the wall (as he would to sleep), leaving her to slide in between him and the back of the couch the way she had a few times before when she’d walked in on him catnapping, or whether he should lie on his back, where he could see her as soon as she opened the door. It was important to make sure she knew he appreciated her offer to give him a statement. Or, no—to tell him her story, he meant.

Ultimately he picked the latter course.

“You sleep like that?”

“Sometimes."

“I’ve never seen you sleep like that. You always face the wall.” Daisy crossed her arms, blew hair out of her face. “That for the tummy ache, or for me?”

“Uh….”

“Would it hurt you to face the wall.”

“No, I just.”

“Turn around, then. I’ll squeeze in,” she said again.

“I-if you’re sure.”

He rolled onto his side, gritting his teeth as the cramps in his stomach swirled in new directions. What made it slosh like that, he wondered. While he fought to regain his breath Jon watched Daisy climb up onto the back of the couch on shaking elbows and knees, then avalanche down hands- and feet-first so she fit between him and its cushions. He’d never watched her do this before—always either startled out of a doze at the sound of her thumping down next to him, or simply woken up to find her there.

“You’re just like the Admiral,” he informed her.

“True words spoken in jest,” muttered Daisy. Too quietly for him to hear what she said over the couch’s tortured creaks, but half a second after she finished speaking the words appeared before his mind, in white, all-capital letters with a black background like closed captions on the news. “That’s Georgie’s cat, right?” she said aloud.

“Yes.”

Her knee jostled the cap of his; when it made him gasp she snarled under her breath. “Sorry. Can you move your leg?”

“Yes, it’s fine, just—”

“I mean would you move your leg.”

“Oh.” He did so.

“Thanks. Ugh—you’re cold,” Daisy accused him; “where’s that blanket.” He pointed behind her to the arm of the couch where it lay folded. She shook it out, and draped it over both of them. Reached around behind him to make sure it covered his whole back. Jon tried to ignore the way his stomach lurched every time Daisy’s weight shifted against the cushions. Finally she settled next to him to catch her breath. Their foreheads touched; her stomach pressed into his, though not as tightly as the last time they’d lain like this. “Can you breathe or am I crushing you?”

“Not at all, you’re fine—in fact, if the couch cushions are chafing you too much you can—”

Daisy huffed, and scooted herself in closer to him. “That better?” She set her warm hand down right where his belly diverged from pelvis. Jon tried to keep both voice and tremor out of his exhale. Since the coffin, Daisy’s hands and feet suffered at night and after any exertion from the same excess of heat his sometimes did. So the cold inside him probably felt nice on her hand, if not to the rest of her.

(Like snuggling up to a hotel mattress, she’d described it, after the first time she joined him for a nap when he’d just had a statement. Cold, hard, covered in lumps and dents, and creaks when you roll over on it. “I’d prefer you didn’t,” he’d replied, while praying her elbow wouldn’t come any closer to the crevasse where his ribs used to be.)

“Christ you’re stuffed,” commented Daisy. For emphasis she lifted her fingers, then set them back down on his gut.

“I don’t know what you expected.”

��You won’t pop if I tell you a story?”

“Not literally,” Jon said, blinking.

“Of course not literally,” she scoffed; “you know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“Will it make you sick. Don’t want you throwing up on me; this is Melanie’s shirt. If you ruin it she’ll hit us with her cane, and I don’t trust you to hit as hard back with yours.”

“Mine’s shorter and thicker,” he mused. “I don’t have to hit as hard.”

“Stop. Avoiding. The question.”

Jon sighed to show her he capitulated. Then thought about it. He felt cold and sick, but the idea of saying no to a statement made those feelings worse, not better. And the sharp clusters of pain in his belly were harder to sleep through than quease.

“I’ll be fine,” he decided. “It’ll help.”

“Alright. When you’re ready, ask me what I used to do when I got shaky between hunts.”

Read part two here.

#stuffing #nausea #stomachache #hunger kink #a shifty tract #nonsearchable tma tag #other titles i. jocoseriously considered include 'divine chains' (like the cult from 153 get it?);#'too much information' and 'a movable-type feast'.#also for a long time the file on my computer was called 'statement eating: the moive' because alas i was a teenage h/omes/tuck

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queen-scribbles · 3 years ago

Text

Acceptable Risk

Art trade fic for the extremely patient @theheroofoakvale, exploring if Shepard’s recruiting Thane had gone a little.... differently.

-----

The door opened with a quiet hiss, and Shepard’s entry was greeted with the raised barrels of several assault rifles. The mercenaries, however, paused before opening fire, despite being confronted by three heavily armed individuals pointing guns back at them.

The asari in the middle of the cluster--clad for business rather than combat--spun to face them, her eyes widening. “Shepard?!”

Shepard smirked, centered his pistol on her. “Nassana.”

There was a muffled clatter in the ceiling that had the mercenaries’ attention swiveling upward. Her posture shifted defensive. “You’re dead.”

“I got better,” he retorted, and shot her in the throat.

Her bodyguards zeroed back in on him and his team, torn between them and the threat above, and that was their undoing. A dark figure dropped from one of the ceiling vents, and Shepard used that moment of distraction to take out two of them. When the remaining mercs focused in on him, the dark figure punched one in the throat and shot the other center mass. The few that were left went down quickly.

Massani and Vakarian kept their guns up, leveled at the late arrival, a drell, as he stood in the middle of the carnage, eyes fixed in an unblinking, regretful stare at Nassana Dantius’ body.

“Sorry if I stole your kill,” Shepard said after letting the silence go as long as he could tolerate. His pistol hung at his side in a loose grip, ready if he needed it. He didn’t think he would.

“I was not here for her, though the galaxy is no less for her removal,” the drell said softly, finally looking up from the dead woman and blinking just before he met Shepard’s gaze. “I am here for you.”

Behind him, Massani muttered a quiet curse and Vakarian tightened his grip on his gun, but Shepard didn’t even flinch. “I did wonder. Dantius hardly seems worth the time for someone of your... reputation.”

“And yet you still came,” the drell said, clasping his hands behind him and looking in no rush to kill anyone.

“She used me.” He let the barest edge of a snarl color the words. “I can go along with a likely trap if it gives me an excuse for payback. Also,” he took half a step forward, “seemed the best way to meet you, Krios. We need to talk.”

Thane Krios did not look at all perturbed that his target knew who he was. His expression remained impassive as he studied Shepard’s face. “Do we? What about?”

“I need your help on a mission. You can feel free to continue trying to kill me after we’re done.”

“Why?” Krios asked, still studying Shepard’s face.

“Why, what?”

“Why do you need me? Why should I help instead of killing you now?”

Shepard laughed darkly. “The fucking galaxy is at stake, I need the best of the best, even if they are out for my blood.” Another half step forward, Vakarian and Massani following this time until he waved them back. “As for the second question.... I know some things about you, Krios. I know you’re dying, and I know you have a son.” His pistol folded in on its clip as he crossed his arms and stared hard at the assassin. “And where he is. I imagine you’d hate for something to happen to him before you had a chance to mend fences.”

Three rapid blinks, a sharp breath, posture unchanged, but it was the most reaction Krios had shown in this conversation. “And would you make this... something happen if I say no, Shepard?”

His calm was impressive. Shepard wondered if it was an easier illusion to maintain with eyes that had neither pupils nor iris to betray strong emotion. “If I have to. I need the best, Krios, which is you. Don’t really care how I get your cooperation.”

Krios was silent for a long moment. “This threat must be grave indeed for you to employ such measures.”

He was nigh impossible to read, but the slight shift of his clasped hands was hint enough. “I’m hunting an enemy who’s abducting human colonies and has ties to the Reapers, I’d call that pretty damn grave. Like I said, you can resume trying to kill me if we survive. What’s it gonna be?”

Another heavy pause, though shorter. “You have left me only one viable option if I care about my son.”

Shepard arched a brow.

“I will assist. Consider this a pause in the contract on your life.”

“Good enough for me.” Shepard cast a smug glance at Dantius’ corpse, then turned to exit the room. “We’re done here, so you can either come with us or meet us at the ship.”

“I will meet you shortly. I have a few personal effects to gather,” Krios said.

“Alright. We’re on a clock, so don’t dilly dally,” Shepard replied, and motioned their departure to Vakarian and Massani.

“What’s to stop him from shooting you on our way down?” Vakarian muttered as they headed for the elevator. “He’s already planning to kill you and you threatened his kid.”

Massani beat Shepard to the answer. “Doesn’t know if there’s a dead man’s switch on that something happenin’ to his boy if Shepard bites it.” He chuckled darkly and smirked at Shepard. “What the hell’d you do to earn a death mark, anyway?”

Shepard shrugged, watching the blur of downward travel out the elevator’s glass-paned wall. “Hell if I know, Massani. Certainly pissed off enough people for there to be some options.”

The mercenary gave a rough laugh and slapped him on the shoulder. “Wear like a badge of fucking honor, kid. Means you got someone real riled up.”

---

Krios was, as promised, aboard the Normandy well within an hour. His personal effects he’d gone to collect were few enough to fit in a small shoulder satchel that he politely refused to let anyone inspect. (Lawson was not happy when Shepard told her to drop it, clearly suspicious of allowing an assassin on board without first vetting his gear.) He settled in life support at EDI’s suggestion, and ruffled no feathers with the rest of the crew, unless you counted Taylor’s mistrust of his career in general.

“What will be expected of me, Commander?” Krios asked, in that same modulated tone he’d used on Illium.

“No shipboard duties, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Shepard said. He leaned against the wall by the door and studied Krios. “You can do as you like here. When we have missions, I may want you to come watch my six, if your skillset seems a good fit.”

“I see.” He folded his hands, elbows braced against the small worktable at which he sat. There was a hesitation under the words that almost rang in the air.

“If there’s something else you wanna say, now’s the time,” Shepard prodded. He didn’t have time to be gentle prying out secrets or whatever.

“My son,” Krios said, words measured and careful. “You say you know where he is. Would you be willing to share that knowledge?”

Shepard mulled it over, weighing the value of his options. “In time,” he finally said. “We have a couple pressing assignments that are more important than family reunions. But if we hit a point with some free time I’ll let you know.”

Krios nodded, his expression unreadable as ever. “Very well, Shepard.”

“One thing I need to know from you,” Shepard began, pushing away from the wall, “is if whatever’s killing you will affect your abilities in a fight.”

“It shouldn’t, not yet.” He paused for the space of a few blinks. “I should have several months at least before the symptoms become noticeable even to myself. More than enough time to complete your mission, if it is as urgent as you make you sound.”

“Is that something you doubt, Krios?”

“Not at all.” Krios pushed to his feet and crossed the room to examine a rack of spare rifle parts. “Even someone of your reputation would have to be on a mission of urgency to blackmail an assassin sent to kill you into helping your cause. I simply mean this threat seems the type where a decisive outcome will be reached swiftly; whether in victory or destruction. Well within the time I have before functionality is... affected.��

“Good.” Shepard nodded. “Not sure when I’ll need you, but I want to be sure you’ll be worth it when the times comes.” He left the room, noting Krios’ undertone murmur as he did, and from the cadence wondered what the assassin was praying for.

---

Shepard first tested him on something that seemed of no consequence; a mercenary base on a backwater planet trafficking stolen eezo. Thane did his job, no more no less, all the while making note of how the man fought. The risks he thought worth taking, the sacrifices that were acceptable cost, the balance of recklessness and cunning. It was not a complete picture, not off one mission, and Thane wouldn’t act on what he’d gleaned even if it were.

Not with the blade the commander had hung over Kolyat. Not with the hope of learning where his son might be. Patience was the hallmark of an assassin, after all; knowing when to strike as well as how. And Thane had been an assassin a very long time. He could wait.

Especially as conversations with others aboard the ship painted a clearer and clearer picture of the mission’s scope. A trip through the Omega 4 relay was very likely to be suicidal just on its own. Destroying whatever these Collectors used as a base doubly so. When Shepard made ‘if we survive’ comments, he wasn’t joking. Thane could wait. He could help with the mission--it was a worthy goal after all, one he would have assisted in accomplishing without the threats--and then resume his contract.

After the mercenary base was eliminated, and easily, Shepard made use of Thane’s skills a few more times. Usually on missions with plentiful shadow coverage and good sight lines.

“How’re you holding up?” Garrus asked on one such mission, the two of them picking off targets from a bit of a distance while Shepard made viciously short work of the battlefield.

“I’ve had worse assignments.” Thane’s rifle kicked against his shoulder and the krogan he’d been targeting dropped. He fired another shot, just to be safe, and watched the body jerk then lay still, before searching out another target. “What of you?”

Garrus snorted, took down his own target. “I’m here because he’s my... friend” --there was a brief hesitation, as if the turian wasn’t completely sure that was the right word--”and I trust that whatever he’s doing is worth whatever it costs to accomplish.”

“You’ve fought alongside him before.”

“Against Sovereign, yeah.” Garrus’ mandible twitched as he focused on sighting in another shot. “This feels different.”

He didn’t elaborate, and it was only a few moments more for them the claim victory and press further on with their mission.

Thane watched Shepard, and wondered what had changed in the eyes of his friend.

---

It was after the derelict Reaper, after adding a geth to their mix, that Thane’s patience paid off. At least in part.

“Your kid’s on the Citadel,” Shepard informed him out of the blue. “Lucky for you, Vakarian has some unfinished business there as well, and the techs need some time to integrate the IFF to the Normandy’s systems. I can spare a side trip for personal issues while they get that squared away. Be ready to go in an hour.”

Thane didn’t protest. Didn’t question. He could ask for details on approach to the Citadel.

They set a cold knot in his gut when he learned them. “He’s here to kill someone,” Shepard said bluntly, and all Thane could think was Like father, like son. That was not a path he’d ever wanted for Kolyat. Shepard didn’t have a lot of details, just that Kolyat was there. Apparently even Cerberus’ resources had limits.

They spoke to a C-Sec officer, then to Mouse at his suggestion--Thane was surprised but pleased he was still alive--both conversations Shepard kept as short as possible. Clearly he was not in the mood to waste time. Thane wished that hadn’t involved the commander breaking Mouse’s nose, but couldn’t muster much sympathy when the same proved true of Kelham once they got his name and interrogated him.

“We have some time, not a lot of it,” Shepard growled. “And we still need to find Sidonis when we’re done with your shit, Krios.” He turned to Captain Bailey. “What can you tell me about this Talid Kelham wants dead?”

The picture Bailey painted--up and coming turian politician, vocally anti-human and gaining support--made it obvious why Kelham would want Talid gone. He had to be very bad for business. He was also in a very vulnerable position currently; pressing flesh on a walk through the Wards with only one or two bodyguards along for protection.

Thane had to admit surprise when Shepard was alright with them splitting up to track Talid and (hopefully) find Kolyat.

“You can’t find him alone any more than I can,” Shepard commented with a sharp smile s he and Garrus headed for the catwalks. “Stay sharp, Krios.”

As if he would do otherwise. Still, he bowed his head and asked Amonkira for strength and guidance before he vanished into the shadows, hoping they weren’t too late to save his son from a very familiar dark path.

Are you really surprised? a voice inside him mocked as Thane picked his route along catwalks and ducts, through shadows and crowds. Even if he hates you, that’s the example you left.

He shook it off. He didn’t have the luxury of internal debate right now. He had to pick out his route on the fly, keep in touch with Shepard and Garrus, plot out several ways to handle the situation that all depended on Kolyat’s behavior. And he didn’t know his own son well enough to predict that, so his solutions were all loosely structured ideas at best. Some plan was better than none.

It was a close thing, despite their best efforts. Kolyat spooked, shot the bodyguards and dragged Talid into his apartment with a gun to his head.

Shepard was only a step behind once Kolyat broke cover and very quickly had a gun pointed at him.

Thane went very still, watching this standoff. He didn’t know Shepard well enough to know what the man would do, but he knew what C-Sec protocols would be, and he could hear their approach. Shepard had been very clear about the limited time they had for this side trip, the fastest resolution--which would also fulfill C-Sec’s mandate to keep Talid alive--would end with his son dead, and Shepard was not a patient man.

Kolyat’s anger blazed, even from across the room, and he was far from willing to cooperate, his pistol pressed to the back of Talid’s head.

The loud crack of a pistol shot nearly made Thane flinch, his chest squeezing in protest at the thought of his failure. Just this one thing, I wanted to fix just this.

But Shepard’s shot snapped Talid’s head back, not Kolyat’s. The turian collapsed in a spray of dark blood and Kolyat recoiled. In that moment of distraction, Thane surged forward and twisted the pistol out of Kolyat’s hands, unsure if the tremor was adrenaline or rage.

Shepard was talking to an incensed Bailey; “No one will miss a racist asshole, I did you a favor”, but Thane’s focus was all on his son.

“This was not the best way,” he said softly.

“What do you know?” Kolyat hissed back, struggling against Thane’s unrelenting grip.

“More than you might think.”

Kolyat yanked away as if the contact had burned him. Fury simmered in his eyes, and resentment, but he was alive. C-Sec would still have to take him in for what he’d been ready to do(attempted murder? That would likely be the charge), there would be consequences for what he tried to do, and Thane didn’t know if they even could “mend fences” as Shepard had put it. But he was alive. And hopefully could be deterred from a path Thane wouldn’t wish anyone to tread.

“Krios,” Shepard barked and Thane pulled himself out of his reverie watching C-Sec lead Kolyat away. But rather than Time to go, the commander nodded after the arresting officers. “Massani can help with tracking down Fade. You have until we’re done. I wouldn’t count on more than an hour or two.”

Thane blinked, thrown off kilter by the gesture, but recovered quickly. “Understood.” He’d taken three steps after the C-Sec officers before he stopped and turned. “...Thank you, Shepard.”

The man waved him off, already walking away with Garrus in his wake.

---

An hour and a half didn’t go very far working through a decade of distance, but it was a start.

“Why do you stay with him?” Kolyat asked when Thane’s comms crackled with a heads-up Shepard and the others were on their way back and he stood. “If... this” --a quick gesture, more a flick of the wrist than anything, between the two of them-- “is so important?”

For you. In more ways than one. “Shepard’s mission is... critical. And there is, unfortunately, a time limit on saving the galaxy.”

Kolyat snorted at his father’s dry humor. “Right.”

“I will keep in touch,” Thane promised. “Perhaps we can meet again once this is finished. If you would like.” If I survive.

“...We’ll see.” Kolyat was staring at the table rather than him, but Thane would take it.

He nodded and headed for the door. “Very well.”

“Does he have something on you?” Kolyat asked abruptly. “With the reputation Shepard’s made, he doesn’t seem the type honorable people would be following.”

“I have made no claims of honor,” Thane said quietly, hand on the door frame. “And with the stakes of mission, some sacrifices may prove necessary.”

“Sounds familiar,” Kolyat muttered.

Thane made no reply, and didn’t look back as he left the room with a cold weight in his chest.

---

It ha been the right call letting Krios reconnect with his son. He seemed more centered, more focused, for having dealt with his baggage. Probably that whole ‘something to live for’ schtick. Shepard only cared that Krios did his job and the mending bond made the kid an even more effective pressure point.

Not that Krios had ever protested. Ever balked. But everyone had their limit, and if he happened to find the assassin’s, it never hurt to have a brute force solution in your arsenal. Especially as they were very close to actually pursuing the Collectors through the Omega 4 relay.

“Just a few more tests,” Lawson assured him. They wanted it to work right, after all. It’d be a real short trip otherwise.

“So,” he asked Krios, “out of morbid curiosity, who wants me dead?” There were plenty of options, he wanted to know who wanted it badly enough to hire an assassin. And it wasn’t like he currently had anything better to do with his time.

Krios cocked his head, a flicker of what might have been amusement crossing his face. “I cannot tell you, Shepard.”

Shepard snorted and arched a brow. “Client confidentiality?”

“Client anonymity,” the drell corrected.

“You let some faceless coward point you at a target with my body count?”

“As you know, I am dying,” Krios said in that implacable tone of his. “Odds of survival were... far from troubling, as a factor.”

“And odds of success?” Shepard retorted.

This time there was definitely a small smile before Krios schooled his expression neutral. Not mocking or cocky, just... amused. “There is a first time for everything.” The faint amusement was gone when he locked eyes with Shepard. “How will we handle this, commander? When we are finished our mission, assuming we both survive, and I resume my contract to kill you?”

“Feel like giving me a day’s lead?” Shepard grinned sardonically.

“I could be persuaded,” Krios said. He shifted in his chair. “Let us see how things progress, shall we?”

You’d never know to look at the man he’d been... convinced to help with this by threat of harm to his son. He seemed perfectly at home, posture easy. He didn’t talk to the crew much, Shepard knew from EDI, but it was hardly surprising an assassin was accustom to solitude.

As if summoned by his brief thought of her, a glowing sphere materialized on the AI kiosk. “Shepard, Miss Lawson wished you informed that the IFF installation is in its final stage. For the shakedown we will need complete access to the Normandy’s systems, so it is recommended you use the shuttle for whatever you plan to undertake next.”

“Got it,: Shepard tossed in vaguely the direction of the AI. “That’ll make things tight,” he muttered to himself. He had something in mind that would likely need the whole team. They’d fit in the shuttle, but it would be tight. Last thing he needed was Lawson and Jack killing each other before they even hit the Collector base.

Krios was eyeing him with curiosity. “Commander?”

“Gear up,” Shepard said, heading for the door. “Got a search and recover that might take all hands.”

The assassin nodded and pushed to his feet, heading for his locker. “Very well.”

---

Their mission went well. Things on the Normandy in their absence, not so much. Shepard left a fully-staffed state of the art warship an returned to a picked-clean husk manned only by his pilot and the now-unshackled AI.

The Collectors had bloodied his nose, cost him his crew. Again. He’d had it. “Ship’s not getting any more ready than it is. Joker, head for the Omega 4 relay.”

“Aye, aye,” came the determined, hungry reply.The pilot was probably even more eager than Shepard to punch back at the bug-eyed bastards.

Unlike Joker--and probably the others--Shepard viewed getting the crew back as a secondary objective to taking out the Collectors. The threat they posed to humanity ended now.

Get us there was his order, and that didn’t change when they came out of the relay having to dodge starship wreckage, or when they were harried by drones, or even when a fucking occulus busted into the hold.

“Krios, Massani, with me!” he barked, rifle in hand, listening to the scrape and thud of wreckage and lasers ricocheting off the upgraded hull on the way to the bowels of the ship. By the time they had trashed the occulus, Joker had them past the debris field and the drones, and a new problem had arisen.

New, but familiar--the same Collector vessel that he had encountered numerous times before. But this time, the Normandy had sharper teeth. “Let ‘em have it!” he ordered, a command Joker follow with alacrity Darting, looping, dodging, the pilot had them dancing around the larger ship, deftly avoiding the beam that had been their destruction before.

The surge of satisfaction at destroying the vessel was short lived, as it erupted in a fireball more than large enough to knock the Normandy into a crazy, barely controlled descent that could more bluntly be called a crash.

“Everyone alive?” Shepard checked over comms. When that was affirmative, he followed with, “Assemble in the CIC.”

This was it. A quick rundown of schematics pulled from the vessel and what he expected to find inside, a victory whatever it takes reminder, and it was time to go.

---

Than prayed silently to Amonkira as they disembarked from the Normandy. Let our hands strike true, and victory be worth the cost. There would be a cost, of this he was sure. He was familiar enough with Shepard’s methods by now there was little room for doubt. If I am among that cost, please guide my son, that his steps may trace a better path.

He wondered, if he should fall, whether his client would hire someone else to complete the task of killing Shepard or if they would let it go. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He wanted to survive, to speak more with Kolyat before the end, but it would be what it was.

They split into groups, Shepard leading Thane and Zaeed, Garrus the rest of them, to serve as distractions while Tali crawled through the vents to let them pass. It was a good call; the Collectors swarmed thick enough any other plan would likely have been overwhelmed by the sheer number of them. They were not given the luxury of time for sighting in targets, so Thane stuck with his pistol--and occasionally biotics--firing, reloading, firing, with the odd interruption to scrounge more thermal clips because he’d run out.

Shepard’s back and forth with Garrus and Tali was just background noise, like the beating wings of their foes, as Thane gave his focus to the task at hand.

Tali stumbled out of the vent just as they finally reached the heavy doors barring the end of the hall. She beelined for the access panel, teetered as a couple shots ricocheted off her shields.

“Get it open!” Shepard barked as the three of them wheeled to give her cover fire. “Vakarian, where the hell are you?!”

“Almost there, a group of the bastards ambushed us!”

A Collector dove toward Tali and Thane shot it--rushed, imperfect, but the grazing shot knocked it off course long enough for him to try again. This time, it fell and did not rise again.

---

The sense of urgency, pounding Hurry, hurry, hurry through Shepard’s veins thrummed louder as the door beeped and started to hiss open. A muffled burst of gunfire reached his ears a handful of seconds before Vakarian and the others came into view, hauling ass down the passageway toward them.

“Massani, Krios! Through the door!” He rattled off a stream of cover fire, driving the Collectors to hang back for a second. Just a second. But it was enough time for the second fire team to reach the end of the passage and dart through the door.

Krios and Massani maintained some cover fire from the far side of the door, buying breathing room for the others as one by one they darted through the door. Lawson brought up the rear, her barrier shimmering out as the doors groaned on closing.

“They’re stuck!” Tali bit out, shoving one door with scraping, grinding protest along its track. Shepard and Lawson ducked through the narrowing gap just as a final shot slammed into Lawson’s shoulder and sent her stumbling.

“I’m fine,” she ground out, slapping medigel on the injury as the group of them shook off the adrenaline to register what the room held.

The walls were lined with dozens, hundreds, thousands, of the Collectors’ pods. The dingy yellow glow throughout the room spoke to them all being occupied.

Movement caught Shepard’s eye and he swung his rifle toward the potential threat. it was just one of the nearby pods; the dark-skinned, dark-haired woman inside stirred, pounding against the transparent canopy in a futile attempt to escape. Even as Tali and Krios rushed forward to try and free her, the pod hummed and the woman only had time for a single terrified scream before she simply... liquefied into a sludgy brown paste which drained away almost before his crew had time to recoil in horror.

“Commander! Over here!” Taylor fumbled with a nearby pod until a very disoriented figure tumbled out. “It’s the crew!”

That broke the horror that had frozen them, and the group surged forward to free their comrades before the same fate could befall them.

Chambers. Daniels. Donnelly. Gardner. All of them were here, as Shepard ran a mental roster, but Chakwas was the one to explain. Near as she could tell, the humans in the pods were being reduced to genetic material and ...piped elsewhere in the base through tubes, though she wasn’t sure where or why. That sounded like where they needed to go.

“We need to get them out of here,” Taylor said, hovering near a few of the engineers as they stumbled to their feet.

We don’t have time for this. “You wanna take them back, be my guest,” Shepard returned brusquely. “We need to destroy this base, but we can mange without you if it’s that important to you.”

“It is.” Taylor’s voice was firm as he tugged Chambers’ arm around his shoulders and herded the crew back toward the Normandy. “See you on the other side, Commander.”

---

Thane almost offered to accompany them; it was a lot of people for one man to safeguard. But Shepard was already snapping orders for the next stage of their infiltration. He’d be taking Garrus and Zaeed, sheltered from the overabundance of Seeker swarms by Jack, down the shortest route that followed the tubes. “The rest of you follow Lawson on the other route EDI indicated, draw some of the flying bastards off.”

Forward, then. Thane checked his reserve of thermal clips, made sure his pistol was undamaged, and fell in with the others as the door hissed open and they pressed on.

They hadn’t advanced far when the first Collectors appeared, drones and a small number of husks that were easy enough tot pick off. Their numbers only increased as time wore on, but that was the point wasn’t it? Draw them here, so Shepard could get through. Thane stood shoulder to shoulder with Tali as their squad advanced, shared his thermal clips when hers ran out first, lent what strength he could to the biotic barrier Samara had summoned to protect their backs.

“There’s a lot of them, Shepard!” Miranda hollered into comms when they were forced to take cover from a particularly large group, dotted with abominations and led by a scion.

“Good!” his reply crackled back underscored by gunfire. “Keep them the hell off us! We’re almost there!”

She hissed a quiet curse, then, “Yes, Commander!” Her fist flared blue and a pair of husks flew off the edge of the path. “Samara, push them back on three!”

The justicar nodded and the rest of them by unspoken agreement turned their focus to give the women cover fire.

“One!”

Strafing fire raked Grunt’s armor and he bellowed a laugh as he shot back. Thane admired his defiance.

“Two!”

The barrier Samar had been maintaining shrank inward in preparation. Amonkira, guide their strength.

“Three!”

The combined power of two gifted biotics exploded outward in a wash over overwhelming ozone-scented blue. Just as it slammed into the descending Collector horde, a heavy, white hot pain tore into Thane’s arm and side.

He was dimly aware of Miranda yelling for them to move, of a hand closing around his bicep to drag him with them, of his legs moving to keep up until the gave out and he was hauled over someone’s shoulder instead. There was rushing sound in his ears and it wasn’t until it was it was punctuated by gunfire and Miranda hollering at Shepard they were under heavy attack Thane realized it was Collector wings and not the lure of unconsciousness.

“Give us a minute, Lawson!”

“We don’t have a minute!”

Shepard’s curse was broken by static. “Vakarian, get that door open! Now!”

Time was fuzzy with the pain that swirled fresh at each jolted step of whoever (probably Grunt) was carrying him, but it still seemed an eternity before, muffled, he could hear someone calling an encouragement.

He slammed against something and the pain flared so white, for a moment he saw Irikah’s face. There was a dull murmur of voices, then a spike of numb shot through the pain and spread, blanketing, pushing back until he was aware again.

Tali knelt beside him, her omnitool just closing down as he became conscious of her presence. “Good, you’re still with us.”

“Thanks to you,” Thane rasped. He passed one hand gingerly over his injured side. The healing wound was large, like from a plasma- or other energy-based weapon rather than bullets. He could cope much better with bullets.

“You are welcome,” Tali said, pushing to her feet and offering him a hand up.

Thane accepted, but leaned against a wall once he’d gained his feet. It would take a few minutes for the medigel to truly do its work. He cast a surveying glance about as he waited. Mordin was limping heavily, Grunt, Garrus, and Zaeed all had significant battle damage to their armor....

And Miranda lay still, half-slumped against a wall, pistol resting in her limp grasp. Shepard knelt next to her, blood streaked in his stark white hair, but stood even as Thane’s gaze landed on them. “She’s gone,” he confirmed, as if there was any doubt. He half-turned, hand rising to his ear, expression flint-hard. “Got it, Joker.”

Garrus’ mandibles clicked. “The crew?”

“They made it back.” Shepard shoved a new clip into his rifle. “Taylor died getting them there.”

Thane grimaced. He should have gone along.

“It happens,” Shepard said, as if he’d caught the self-reproof without even looking. “According to EDI, this next room’s the core. Vakarian, Massani, you stick with me, the rest of you cover our asses.”

He didn’t wait for agreement or confirmation, just strode to the console for the necessary door and and punched in the command to open it. Garrus and Zaeed followed silently, the former briefly locking eyes with Tali before the three of them disappeared down the hallway.

---

The rest of them hastily arranged themselves in a defensive perimeter, gazes and weapons trained on the two doors that separated them from the Collector forces.

Thane said a rushed but heartfelt prayer to Kalahira for their fallen, working the fingers of his injured arm to test the medigel’s progress. It would do.

The sheer number of Collectors made the task a difficult one--more than once Thane feared running out of clips for his pistol until a brief pause between waves allowed them to scavenge and share from the fallen. This sort of sustained firefight was far from his normal milieu, but this close to the end he was still determined to do his best.

They held as battle chatter from Shepard’s squad broke through the static. They held even though Mordin fell and Legion fell and Jack nearly followed, snarling and spitting curses as she struggled back to her feet. They held until Shepard’s order came over comms, “Move if you don’t want to go up with this place!”

Then they ran, Samara and Jack shielding them from as much as they could, the rest picking off the bolder Collectors even as they ran. They reached the Normandy, adrenaline surging as they gave Shepard’s squad cover fire until they were aboard as well. Joker had them rocketing toward the relay before the doors had fully closed, and the whole ship seemed to hold its breath until they were safely through.

---

As the adrenaline wore off, all Shepard wanted to do was sleep. But he couldn’t. Not yet. There were things that needed to be settled first.

Krios was in the medbay, sitting serenely still as Dr. Chakwas more thoroughly treated the nasty, half-healed burns on his side and forearm. (In sharp contrast to Jack, who was glowering and cursing about both having to sit still to let her injuries heal and being around so many people.)

“Looks like we both survived,” Shepard said without preamble. Chakwas took the unspoken cue and moved off to see to Jack.

“Indeed.” Krios didn’t move, hands folded in his lap as he sat on the edge of a bed.

“You make up your mind about that head start?”

Krios chuckled. “I believe my recuperation will be a bit more than a day, Shepard. A good time for me to visit my son, I think, and a good head start for you as the contract resumes.” His lips twitched to a small smile. “Perhaps my client will reconsider in light of your actions.”

“Doubt it,” Shepard snorted. “I get the sense their beef with me is personal. Doesn’t lend itself to rational decision making. We’ll see, I guess.” Stranger things had happened, but he wouldn’t be holding his breath.”I’m not going anywhere near the Citadel, in case the Council gets any bright ideas about me or my ship, but we can drop you on Omega before we head off.”

Krios nodded solemnly. “A fair arrangement.”

A less intelligent person might have wondered--hoped--leaving him on Omega injured was as good as a death warrant, but Shepard had seen him fight. It would take more than a set of already-healing electrical burns to put Krios at a disadvantage against the thugs on Omega. (And if they did happen to prove too much for him, one thing less for Shepard to worry about.)

“We can have you there in an hour or so,” he said. “once the doc’s done with you go get your things together.”

Krios inclined his head. “I shall.”

---

It had been a while since he was last on Omega and Thane hadn’t missed it in the slightest. Fortunately he wouldn’t be here long. Passage elsewhere was easy enough to procure, and from there he could work his way to the Citadel. He could take some time to mend more fences with Kolyat before he resumed his hunt.

That was one thing about Shepard; he was never a hard man to find.

#queens fic #art trade #seb shepard #mass effect fic #hope you like it #hope i got seb right

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shepard-ram · 4 years ago

Note

Part 2 of Echo’s Madoka AU

-This is just gonna be me explaining my reasoning behind why I assigned some people certain roles.

-Also this is important but in this AU everyone is around the age of 16-17 because it makes things easier. Okay? Okay!

🚫TW/CW for death, violence, angst, also Spoiler for Madoka Magica🚫

-Anyways I put reader as Madoka because yeah...no reason other than they the protag. Just saying it now, Reader doesn’t become a magical girl until the very end of the AU.

-Tommy is Sayaka because I feel like making you all suffer with Tommy angst. That’s not the only reason but I gotta explain more actual character stuff. In the show Sayaka is best friends with two girls, Madoka and Hitomi. Sayaka wants to become a magical girl for two reasons. Reason one, one of the first magical girls she meets is Mami, and Sayaka looks up to Mami. The second reason is that she wants to use her wish Kyubey will grant to heal her crush, Kyosuke. Kyosuke used to play the violin but he permanently damaged his hands so he can no longer play. After Mami dies Sayaka decides to use her wish to heal Kyosuke and becomes a magical girl. Sayaka gains a rival named Sakura and they almost kill each other on several occasions. Sayaka’s friend Hitomi confesses to Kyosuke that she likes him and he accepts her feelings. The despair this causes Sayaka causes her to turn into a witch.

-So, in this case scenario the reader, Tommy, and Tubbo are all good friends. Tubbo likes to play the piano in this AU so after he permanently damaged his hands he becomes depressed that he can no longer play. Tommy uses his wish to heal Tubbo’s hands so he can play again. Tommy is happy to see Tubbo happy until Tubbo starts slowly leaving him behind and making new friends. Specifically with this new transfer student named Ranboo. Tommy already had to go through the grief of losing Wilbur, having to deal with Techno, and finding out the truth of the soul gems, this was seemingly the final straw. He felt all alone after Tubbo left and almost regrets wishing for his hands to be fixed. His soul gem breaks and he becomes a witch.

-Wilbur is Mami because they are both good with their words, they think things through, they are wise, brave, and strong. Mami in the show saves Sayaka and Madoka then they become friends. Kyubey and Mami think that the two girls have potential to become strong magical girls. Mami is seen as the perfect magical girl in almost everyone’s eyes. She fights for justice and the people of the city.

-This is where I think Wilbur’s character in the AU would be slightly different. At one point in time Wilbur did believe in those things. At one point he fought for the benefit of the people. That was until he had a major falling out with a close friend of his. His friend had very different beliefs to his on how they should be taking down the witches. One of the biggest reasons why magical users fight witches is for the grief seeds used to keep their soul gems clean. A witch that has killed more people is more likely to drop a grief seed. Wilbur’s friend thought it was better to let the witches kill a few people before hunting them down. Wilbur didn’t agree with that and they fought. Neither sides won the fight and they split up. After the whole situation Wilbur kind of stopped caring about justice and fighting for the people. He grew tired of it all, that was until he met the Reader and Tommy. He could tell they both had a lot of potential and he could use them to make his job easier. The whole fighting for justice thing was something he was on you really saying to make himself look better in front of the pair. He honestly didn’t care about the two of them that much...at first. He found himself getting happy when he got to spend time with them. Sure Tommy was hella annoying but he enjoyed having him around. Wilbur had fun teaching them about what it meant to be a magic user. Reader confesses that they see Wilbur as a real hero and they want to be like him. Wilbur breaks and confesses that this whole time he hasn’t been honest about really caring about justice. He was just fighting because it was the only thing keeping him alive. He fought because at this point he had no other choice. But now he feels like he actually wants to try and fight for justice with the reader and Tommy by his side. He wants to change for the better and his sudden urge of motivation drives him to be reckless and that’s what leads to his end.

-Techno is Kyoko because they are both strong, powerful, they can be kinda rude, and maybe a bit selfish, but they have soft sides to them.

-In the AU the friend Wilbur had a falling out with was Techno. After their fight Techno leaves to a different city to hunt for witches somewhere where he wouldn’t be bothered. He only came back to the main city after hearing Wilbur kicked the bucket. He felt a little sad but acted like it didn’t affect him. He was so confident that he would be able to easily control the area until Tommy showed up. Tommy had the same idealism as Wilbur. Fight for the people, not for yourself. Techno tried to kill off Tommy after their first encounter but it failed. Afterwards he would often taunt Tommy and even threatened to kill Tubbo at one point. Tommy got pissed at Techno so they fought on a bridge over a highway. The reader and Karl interrupted though and it caused Tommy’s soul gem to fall onto a moving truck. This is when they all find out about half the truth of soul gems. (Soul gems can only be a certain distance away from the users body for else the body will die. They can be brought back though if the soul gem is still intact)Techno feels bad for what he did when looking back on it. When he looks at Tommy he sees Wilbur but he also sees a old version of him. Someone who made their wish for someone else and it backfired. Techno tries to reach out to Tommy but it fails. After Tommy becomes a witch he goes into denial asking for the reader to help him turn Tommy back to a human even though it’s not possible. The reader almost dies until Karl saves them. Techno ends up killing Tommy’s witch by sacrificing himself to let Karl and Reader escape. Techno knew he could have escaped too but he rather die with Tommy then let him be alone.

-Karl is Homura because time magic go brr.

-Homura is seen as a cold, mysterious person but in reality she’s not. She’s seen so much suffering and so much pain that it made her act the way she does. Who was it that was suffering? It was Madoka. Homura was weak and alone till she met Madoka. Madoka brought color and hope into her life when she saved her from a witch. Madoka always said she was her friend. Then a terrible witch named walpurgisnacht appeared and destroyed the entire city. While protecting Homura, Madoka died. Homura blamed herself for what happened and wished to be able to go back in time to protect Madoka. Her wish was granted and she was given time magic. In countless timelines she watched Madoka die but she continued. She repeated the same time of events again and again. She eventually found out the truth behind the soul gems and Kyubey’s existence and so she made it her goal to prevent Madoka from ever becoming a magical girl and to kill walpurgisnacht.

-In this AU Karl grows very attached to the reader. They were the first person who showed interest in his hobbies and encouraged him to be himself. He never felt that loved until then. Then in the blink of an eye it was all gone, you were gone. He watched as you sacrificed yourself for himself for him as screamed and begged for you not to go. He only had one wish to protect you from this fate. He didn’t care how many times it took he was determined to create a timeline where you could live happily with your friends and family. He would do anything to keep you safe even if it meant it made you hate him at the end of it all. Your the only friend he has in this god forsaken world and he won’t let you go so easily.

And that’s all I got. If anyone wants to add onto this AU or write about it then feel free too just credit me for the idea :p (also sorry if my writing is bad I don’t really write stuff like this)

GOD DAMN THIS IS GOOD-

Again not exactly my thing but,,,,, the emotional drag you can feel on all the characters is just- You can really get a sense of just how cruel and grueling life is for them

#ask #echo anon #tw. death #c: tommy #c: wilbur #c: techno #c: karl #c: tubbo

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ificanwriteiscannon · 5 years ago

Photo

Love Story (A Luca Changretta imagine)

ps: The lyrics, the picture and the characters dont belong to me. Picture found in Pinterest.

Yes, its cheesy and cliche, but I hope you guys like it. Sorry for any mistake that you may find.

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We were both young when I first saw you I close my eyes, and the flashback starts I'm standing there On a balcony in summer air See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns See you make your way through the crowd And say, "Hello" Little did I know

Luca knew the second he laid eyes in her. She was the one. One of his men pointed that he didn’t even know her name, but that didn’t matter to him. And then he heard her laugh. Oh, he was done for in that second.

“Excuse me miss.. Could I possibly buy you a cup of coffee?” Luca was not used to this feeling. Suddenly this stranger turned him in a teenager all over again. She had her back to him and the gangster noticed her friends giggling.

“Well, now I’m having tea with my friends..” Luca chuckled humorless. She was a flower, but how dared she refuse him? He was lost.

“But tomorrow would seem to be a nice day to have coffee with a stranger” From over her shoulder she smiled at him, and Luca walked away knowing for sure that she was his flower.

That you were Romeo, you were throwing pebbles And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet" And I was crying on the staircase Begging you, "Please don't go, " and I said

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess It's a love story baby just say "Yes"

It took them a total of four dates to make them inseparable. He was all that filled her mind and she was the light of his dark days.

“Oh darling, those are beautiful” Her mother said joyfully, as her daughter got inside all smiles reading the card between the bouquet. “Who are they from?” The older woman worked faster than Y\N could and stole the small, delicate piece of paper. The romantic words animated her until she got to the end. “Luca? Please Y\N.. Luca Changretta? The gangster? Are you mad?”

Y\N knew her family would have issues, but this was never how she imagined this would go.

“DAD, YOU’RE TREATING ME LIKE A CHILD..” Her mother was crying for what felt like hours. Ever since she screamed for Y\N’s father and told him about his daughter’s lover.

“THAT’S BECAUSE YOU ARE ACTING LIKE ONE”

“Look, I know that..” Y\N started taking a deep breath, trying to calm the situation.

“YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT LIFE! AND I FORBID YOU TO SEE HIM..”

“You forbid me? You can’t do that, I’m a grown woman! I got a job..I ..I”

“You keep seeing him, you can forget about this family. That man is trash Y\N. He’s gonna get us all killed or worse”

So I sneak out to the garden to see you We keep quiet, 'cause we're dead if they knew So close your eyes Escape this town for a little while

Y\N walked the neighborhood watching her surroundings. She was supposed to be at her friend’s house for a ‘girls night’ as she lied to her parents. There was no chance she would ever go out again I they ever dreamed that she was going to her lover’s arms.

Lost in thoughts, Y\N gasped as a pair of hands pulled her waist to a dark alley. As soon as she turned to the man, horrified, she relaxed. The girl slapped his shoulder and they laughed as Y\N hugged Luca.

“I’ve gotta tell ya something, mi bella” He could feel her heart accelerating against him, and the gangster caressed her arms. “I got business in England. I’ll be gone for a while” Her eyes fell to the ground and Y\N distanced herself as far as she could, since Luca didn’t let her go.

She knew what those businesses were. She had heard him talk with his mother about it, Y\N knew how dangerous this could be. Vendetta.

“How long?” The girl asked harshly

“I don’t know yet.. Maybe four months, maybe more” She nodded as Luca observed her, he could practically hear her brain screaming and her heart breaking.

“I’m not gonna waist my breath in trying to stop you, because I know you won’t listen.. But you listen to me Mr. Changretta, you will come back to me. Safe. And you’ll marry me then. Dare to disobey that and I’ll hunt you wherever you are and kill you myself” Luca chuckled at his woman and her finger pointed at him. There was no doubt. Never could be.

“Yes, ma’am” Luca pulled her close and they stayed in each other’s arms in silence.

'Cause you were Romeo, I was a scarlet letter And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet" But you were everything to me I was begging you please don't go and I said

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess It's a love story baby just say "Yes" Romeo, save me, they're trying to tell me how to feel This love is difficult, but it's real Don't be afraid, we'll make it out of this mess It's a love story baby just say "Yes" Oh, oh

Long were the months Luca stayed away.

The girl came clean with her family about her relationship with Luca, and much to her disappointment, her father kept true to his word.

Y\N was tired of them trying to control her feelings anyways, so she collected her stuff and Audrey was happy to open her doors to her future daughter in law. The Italian becoming a mother to her, and their worry over Luca their bond.

They received letters and phone calls, but none enough to calm their hearts. Of course, they trusted him, but neither would be calm as long as he was back and safe.

“Mi amore, soon this will all be done and we’ll be together again..” It broke his heart to hear her cry. Specially when Luca knew he was the source of her worry.

“Don’t you dare to lie to me Changretta.. I can hear it in your voice. Something is wrong, isn’t it?”

“These men are not to be intimidated, and it may take longer than expected, but I made a promise to you, mi bella, and I intend to keep it.”

“You better”

I got tired of waiting Wondering if you were ever coming around My faith in you was fading When I met you on the outskirts of town, and I said

Romeo save me I've been feeling so alone I keep waiting for you but you never come Is this in my head? I don't know what to think He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring

And said "Marry me Juliet You'll never have to be alone I love you and that's all I really know I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress It's a love story baby just say 'Yes'"

She had a dream one night. Luca died. Y\N didn’t remember ever crying that desperately, Audrey tried to calm her, but they knew that the only thing capable of doing so was miles away.

As soon as the hours permitted her, Y\N called Luca. She told her dream and he said nothing, he only hummed and soon said his goodbyes talking about a final urgent business.

Weeks passed and only letters came. Two to be exactly. A deal was made and Luca was free. Waiting was all she could do. And at this point, the small voices in the back of her mind got louder.

Distracted and with two of his men watching over her, Y\N walked back to the now familiar neighborhood with the groceries the Italian woman asked her.

“I do hope you can teach me this recipe Audrey, I had to fight two not so polite old ladies for this vinegar” The girl laughed remembering the ladies at the cashier.

When she received no response, she turned to the figure in the living room. The groceries falling from her hands as her body moved slowly at its own accord.

“You’re back” Y\N whispered with tears in her eyes. As Luca opened his arms with a smile in his lips, she ran. “Oh my god, it’s really you?” Her hands travelled between his cheeks and his neck

“I promised you, didn’t I? I hope you set up a date, mi bella” Luca said taking the little velvet box in his hand.

#luca changretta imagines #luca changretta x reader #luca changretta imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic

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majorshiraharu · 4 years ago

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Echoes In My Mind; Chapter 1 - Icy Alliance - EchoxReader Fic

Echo x (Female) Reader fic

---------------------------------------------------- Content Rating: Mature/18+ Eventual NSFW Smut Warnings: Swearing Violence Anxiety Mention of violent canon events

-Trigger Warnings for future chapters: Torture Injuries Recovery Nightmares PTSD (rather warn you now before you become invested, after this warnings will only be labeled for individual chapters at the start of each)

-This fic will be added to my ao3 account and to the masterlist, if you want to be added to a taglist please let me know. Y/N = Your name Y/O/N = Your original name (since your character is going under an alias for most of the fic, before later on revealing her real name)

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Intro: After order 66 you escape the Empires grips and go on back to your bounty hunting ways, your ship was damaged in a mission gone wrong and you’ve been stranded on a cold icy planet doing whatever jobs you can to fix your ship and finally get out of here. Along the way, you run into some guys with familiar faces, one who reminds you of the man you loved that died years ago at the Citadel

-You're collecting your reward for a bounty you just turned in - just then a male Gotarite comes up behind you grabbing your shoulder - you whip around pulling your blaster out of its holster as you use your elbow to push away the hand, now with your blaster pointed directly at his face - "Vegree?!" you shout, lowering your blaster. "I thought you were going to blast my head off, what the kriff were you thinking Y/N?" he spits out angrily both of his offset green beady eyes staring at you. "Man I'm sorry but that's what you get for grabbing me from behind like that, you're lucky I recognized your stench so quickly" you said as smugly as you could manage.

"Whaaat didd youu jusst saayy?!" Oh great you thought, you know shits about to go down when he starts stuttering like that. "I'm just teasing you old man, stop getting your teeth in a twist, you might bite your tongue off" you said trying to cool the tension rising.

"Wellll listten heere Y/N, iff yoouuu ssso mucch aas pooinnt thhatt tthiingg att mme aggainn wwe'rre gonnnaa hhavve mooree prrobblemmms!" he shouts, clearly not taking your jokes well. "More problems than we already have, haha, I find that hard to believe, well anyway what did you want?" hoping that changing the subject might make his mood better.

He lets out a big snort as he swallows his anger with you to finally move on to his point for being there, "I got a mission for ya, pays well, might get ya out of this dump."

"Well, what is it, who's asking, how much, who I gotta kill, or capture, anything to get out of here with my sanity." "Can't tell ya who from, it'll pay ya enough to fix your ship, but no killing, it's purely a spy mission" he says looking around for anyone listening.

"A spy mission, urgh, fine, who or what is my target and what do I need to get" you scoff out, you've always hated spy missions because they usually involved you getting found at some point, the last spy mission ended with you running to your ship under heavy fire, that mission was also the reason you were stuck on this godforsaken trash pile of a planet.

"Stop complaining, ya want in or not?!" he asks pulling out a datapad "Fine" you growl reaching out for the datapad. He waits for a moment before handing it to you, "Ya will find all ya need on that, just make sure to deliver what they want by the deadline, I ain't the middle man on this one so ya better not get snippy with da wrong people" he says in an almost worried way as he gets up and walks off into the crowd of people in the cantina.

What's that supposed to mean you think to yourself, he's never been so worried or secretive about a mission before. You turn on the datapad looking over the words and images on the screen, seems easy enough, you'll just have to steal another ship to get to the location, which was on a nearby planet, great, good luck finding a decent ship in this place. You would just take a ship and run, but being a bounty hunter that wouldn't help you get any jobs and would probably end with someone putting a bounty on your head, so best to just borrow one for a few hours so you can complete this mission and then fix your own ship.

You get up and walk outside, breaking the datapad in two and discarding it as it instructed, it's cold outside, your face feels like it's already starting to freeze, you head towards the landing pads and the shipyard - it's pretty empty today. Then you spot an all-black ship, it looks strange among the rest, almost like it could be an imperial transport shuttle, but you've never seen one like this, sadly imperial or not it would have to do, there was nothing else nearby and not to mention you wanted out of the cold so bad you'd gladly pick a fight with some imperials right now if it meant getting out of this cold. -You hack the control panel on the outside gaining you access to the inside of the ship, where you notice a skull painted on the side and a bunch of posters, eww this ship must belong to some lonely strange guys by the look of this messy place and the different things scattered about. You walk to the front of the ship working on hacking the panel so you can fly out of here, this is harder than you thought, normally you were pretty good at this stuff, but someone has heavily modified this ship, no wonder it didn't look familiar, whoever these people were they knew how to modify a ship that's for sure.

-Suddenly you hear people talking, and it's getting closer, oh kriff you think, with your luck, it's probably the people who own this ship, and by the sound of it there are 5 men, you could probably take them as long as you got the jump on them. -You put the cover over the control panel trying to be as quiet as possible as you hear the door to the ship open "kriff" you let slip out as you try to duck into a hiding spot behind part of the wall near the door. "So boys now that we've delivered this bounty and finally gotten some grub where do you all want to go?" asks one of the men, he has a distinctive accent, they all start talking, making it hard to tell what they're saying, especially over the sound of the one guy shouting about wanting to beat up some clankers. You try to take advantage of their babbling to sneak a peak for how you might get out of this predicament.

Well, there's no way out, they're all standing right by the door, and there's no way to sneak by them or - your thoughts are cut off by the sudden realization that the cover you had hastily placed back on slid off the console and crashed hard onto the floor, stopping their bickering.

"We really need to fix this thing, Tech, Echo, get over there and patch that back up will ya" the one with the accent says, causing you to shake with anxiety, knowing that in any second two of those guys would be walking right by you, should I attack them, or should I try to explain myself, you think quickly unsure of your choices as your anxiety swallows you up, hearing their footsteps coming closer, you close your eyes. -You try and dart out from your hiding spot to hopefully catch them off guard giving you enough time to get out and into the snowstorm outside, but instead, you just run right into the guy who was just around the corner crashing to the ground as you land right on top of him with a grunt. "What the heck" you hear the rest around you yell, as the one below you lets out a small grunt before looking up at you, right into your eyes, both of you just kinda stare at each other, unsure of what's going on.

"Echo" the one to the left of you shouts, grabbing you and pulling you back locking your arms behind you. Did he say Echo? you think, "Let me go" you shout cracking the back of your head into his helmet and kicking him back, freeing yourself, you try to run, but the one called Echo gets up quickly stepping in front of you and grabbing both your wrists as you try to push him away, "I said let go" you yell kicking his leg, "OW!!" you scream out realizing you just kicked your shin into a leg that was metal. "Are you okay?" he asks instantly letting go of your wrists, as you bend down to hold your aching shin, you look up to see a worried look on his face, "Why do you care?" you said coldly as you stood up, still in pain, making him frown. "I care because you just kick my solid metal leg." he says in a joking way, making you look away, feeling guilty for being such a jerk. "I'm sorry" you say while staring at the floor, "I'm just trying to finish this mission so I can fix my ship and get off this damn planet." "So you were going to steal our ship?" he says raising an eyebrow with a smirk crawling across his face. "Just to get to the mission location, I was gonna bring it back" you basically shout, now getting flustered by the way he's looking at you.

"Well, where are you headed maybe we can take you." "Wait now hold on there" one with the gray hair and bad attitude says "We aren't seriously going to let this little girl hitch a ride to some bounty on our ship, are we?" he spits out.

"HEY, I'm not a little girl, I'm a bounty hunter" you shout at him, causing him to roll his eyes and cross his arms. "I think we are" says the one with the accent grinning at the displeasure these words brought to the face of his comrade. "Sorry about that, Crosshair here doesn't trust easily, my name is Hunter, this is Wrecker, over there is Tech and well you've just met Echo" he says pointing out his comrades to you.

As he does this you notice they all look kinda similar, the one called Echo looks a lot like the clones you use to fight alongside. "You're clones?" you say hesitantly, "Yes" said Echo, "Well actually we've all been altered in some way to enhance specific skills" says Tech in a way that was almost too fast for you to understand. "It's good to meet you, umm..." "Y/N" you blurt out nervously, "Y/N" Hunter says finishing his sentence. You notice Echo smiling at you after you just blurted out your name, causing you to slightly blush, trying to look away from him in a way that wasn't obvious.

"Well Y/N, where are you headed?" asks Echo. “I'm headed to Luminues, the planet not too far from here, it's just a simple mission to get some information from a warehouse for someone."

"Hmm, for a mission that sounds so simple I'm surprised they'd pay enough to fix your ship, who's asking for this information?" Hunter asks looking concerned, "I know, they didn't give me much information on the job and I don't know who they are, but I promise it will just be a simple in and out and then I'll be out of your hair" you say trying to sound convincing. "LET'S GO THEN" shouts Wrecker, "All right" says Hunter sternly, "but we can't help you and if our ship gets damaged we'll need some of that bounty in return", "No problem, I'd be happy to share whatever I have left after I repair my ship" you say thankful that they are willing to even take you in the first place. They all take their spots, standing or sitting around as Tech starts the ship and sets it on a course to Luminues, you awkwardly stand near the wall staring out into space until you notice Echo walking up to you. "Umm...so you know clones?" he says unsure of how to phrase his question, "Yeah, I use to...." you cut yourself off, remembering that despite not being a Jedi you were still labeled as an enemy of the Empire and you didn't want to give yourself away, "umm, I um I...I worked on ships for the Republic" you said pretty unconvincingly, Echo looks at you tilting his head and raising a brow, he seems to understand that you can't say exactly who you are and accepts your lame answer. "Well then Y/N, I guess if you mostly worked on ships we probably never met, I was on the front lines a lot, fighting with the...” - suddenly he gets cut off by Crosshair who hits him in the shoulder, "She doesn't care Echo and remember we're trying to stay low key" he says jabbing him with his elbow, "Eh, sorry" Echo says with a sad look on his face as he turns away to walk towards Tech. "We'll be landing shortly" Tech says while pressing a bunch of buttons, "You might want to hold on to something" Crosshair teases, making you let out a snort as you walk closer to the front of the ship, at that moment the ship makes a hard turn before it jumps back to just barely make a landing on the small landing pad causing you to grab onto Echo to stay on your feet, he grabs your waist trying to steady you before looking up at you, both of you blush before letting go of each other. - Tech opens the door leading outside. "Okay, we got you here, Echo can give you our com channel so you can contact us when you need a pickup, otherwise we'll be here waiting." Hunter says walking toward the open door, Echo softly grabs your arm typing their com channel into your comlink "Thank you" you say quietly smiling at Echo, causing him to let go of your arm and look away, "Uh, no problem" he says quietly in return. -You walk out the door as they wish you good luck, let's get this over with you think to yourself finally setting off for your bounty.

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-Notes: Hope you all enjoyed this, I haven't written a fic like this in a while so it's nice to do this again, Chapter 2 will probably be out sometime next week, I will post updates. If you want to be added to a taglist just send me an ask or request so in a comment <3 uwu

#arc trooper echo #arc trooper echo x reader #echo x reader #echo x reader fic #echo x you #arc trooper echo fic #the clone wars #the clone wars fic #star wars fic #eventual smut #tcw fic #the clones #clones #the bad batch #the bad batch fic #star wars bounty hunter #majorshiraharu

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hippychick006 · 4 years ago

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12.06 - Celebrating the life of Asa Fox Episode Review/Recap

Honestly, I see a picture like this on a promo and I have no hesitation diving straight in. Okay, you all know I have a hurt!Sam fetish, complete with writhing on the floor padabooty, let’s not bang on about it.

Official episode summary: THREE WINCHESTERS ARE BETTER THAN ONE – When hunters gather together to celebrate the life and tragic death of one of their own, Sam (Jared Padalecki) Dean (Jensen Ackles) and Mary (guest star Samantha Smith) must take action when a demon starts picking off hunters one by one. John Bedham directed the episode written by Steven Yockey

My optimum number of Winchesters is two but yeah, I don’t mind a buy two get one extra free here and there.

Overall, I do really enjoy this episode, even after rewatch but putting under a cut to save space.

There’s a lot of things I don’t like about the Dabb era, and in terms of this episode, retconning Mary to be a hunter after parenthood is one of those things that niggles a little (I know she was a hunter before parenthood which also irks for different reasons) so there’s a lot I have to shake off from my mind in order to be able to enjoy an episode. And on rewatch, I had less issues than I did the first time (but given I’m coming at this straight from season 15, it could be a case of me just grasping onto absolutely anything that isn’t terrible).

Aside from the Mary thing, I love so much about this episode, not least because there isn’t a single mention of feathers who I am seriously going to struggle watching in any episode going forward thanks to 15.18 debacle.

Anyway moving swifly on…

First up is the intro and I love the introduction of Asa Fox as a character. We first meet him as a child, who Mary saves from a werewolf attack. And then we see him become interested in hunting (as Mary tells him she’s soon going to retire, and he’s worried that if she does: who’s gonna save people like me?)

Asa decides it’s going to be him and through a montage set to Bachman-Turner Overdrive’s Roll On Down The Highway, we see Asa grow up to become a pretty awesome hunter. Throughout all this time, he writes postcards to Mary, but doesn’t send them (no address) so he has quite a collection by the end and I think it’s all his hunts.

I’m so caught up in how awesome Asa is and how much I like this new character, I’m completely jarred when he comes to a sudden and unexpected end via hanging which also brings the music to an abrubt halt.

Great intro, Asa said very few words but I’m already mourning not getting to know him more.

After the opening titles, we switch to Jody who is chilling out at home about to watch Netflix when there’s a knock at the door. Turns out it’s Sam and Dean who have just finished up a hunt and stopped by to visit. Unfortunately the cardboard cutout “just add water” instant girl hunters are at a concert. Jody offers to feed them, and Dean lets her know that he killed Hitler since the last time they saw her.

Sam: *huffs and walks away Jody: *blank stare “thank you?” Dean: You’re welcome

Love it.

They have pizza and watch Netflix and have a debate about rom coms. Sam says Dean is more of “an animated Japanese erotica chick.”

A little oversharing on your brother’s habits there Sammy, but Sam is not concerned in the least. In fact, I love how totally relaxed Sam is sitting here. He’s clearly comfortable at Jody’s slumped on her sofa.

The phone rings and Jody goes to answer it, Sam and Dean have a conversation about Sam oversharing which Dean’s uncomfortable with.

Sam: Dude, be proud of your hobbies. It makes you who you are.

Supportive Sam encouraging his brother!

Jody returns and walks past them, she’s clearly upset. The boys follow to watch her start packing. They ask what’s wrong and Jody says a friend of hers died – it’s poor Asa from the opener and I wasn’t expecting a link from Jody to Asa.

The name is familiar to Dean and he’s trying to figure it out when Sam says it’s the guy Ellen used to tell stories about at the Roadhouse. Asa apparently killed five wendigos in a single night and now I’m even more mourning his loss. Seems Jody met Asa when he came to town on a hunt, she caught him out when he tried to pretend to be an FBI agent by the name, Fox Mulder. He’s worse than the Winchesters! Anyway she helped him out on a ghoul hunt and they kept in touch.The boys decide to go with her to the wake, John didn’t let them go to hunter gatherings outside of bars as he always said they were trouble.

Turns out Asa lived in Manitoba, Dean says “oh Canada” when he gets out of the car on arrival. Sam is impressed with the house which yes, nice digs for a hunter.

We meet Asa’s mother, Lorraine and she knew her son was a hunter. She’s heavily in to the drink but she’s just lost her son, so I’m cutting her some slack as I can’t imagine anything worse.

Dean finds his way to the kitchen (and the beer) which has no label. He’s concerned but “Bucky” homebrewed it himself and it’s strong. Dean introduces himself which gets the attention of the several hunters in the room,

Randy: No freakin’ way. Aren’t you dead? Like, four times? Dean: Yeah. It, uh, didn't take.

Just wait till they hear about Mystery Spot where he died over a hundred times in a single day!

Sam fanboy hunter: Wait. Your brother here? Sam? Dean: Yeah, he's still alive, too. He's –

Fanboy doesn’t even wait for Dean to finish, he’s off to find Sam. Same fanboy (named Elvis), same tbh

While Dean’s making friend’s in the kitchen – and learning not to say the name ‘Wendigo’ which turns out to be a trigger word to take a drink - Sam’s homed in on hotboy Max and his equally hot sister Alicia. Turns out their mother is a good witch who taught Alicia how to hunt bad witches.

Sam (to Max): What did she teach you? Max: Uh, mostly how to seduce men. Alicia: She also taught him some magic, which is actually more useful. Max: Eh, mostly the men thing.

Max is definitely getting his flirt on, making sure Sam knows he’s into hot men, and we cannot deny, Sam is a hot man. Before Sam can flirt back, Elvis interrupts and introduces himself and then makes Sam feel awkward when he asks Sam about being possessed by the devil. Bad Elvis!

Max (and Alicia) are both pissed on Sam’s behalf,

Alicia: Dude, you don't just ask someone about something that messed up. Max: Seriously, back off.

Protective!Max alert, I’m going to need a few minutes with my new ship Samax, though to be honest, the way Max and Alicia are sitting together, it might need to be Samaxia, which no issue other than it sounds like a drug that gets advertised on television with all kinds of side effect warnings, like may cause death...)

Elvis makes Sam feel so awkward that he runs off to go find a beer. Elvis then tries to talk to Max and Alicia and they outright just tell him to go away. Love them.

Aww, Sam got his beer and then went off to find his big brother. In fairness, I think they’ve been separated five minutes at this point and in that time Sam was accosted by Elvis. Dean’s looking through Asa’s office and discovers he has a real angel blade. Sam asks if Dean knew people tell stories about them.

Dean: Yeah. Apparently, we’re a little bit legendary. Sam: Yeah, but, I mean, so was Asa. Then a hunt went bad, and he ended up hanging from a tree, alone in the woods. Dean: He died on the job. No better way to go. Sam: You really believe that? Dean: Yeah. What, you don’t? I mean, come on, Sam, it's not like we're in the “live till you're 90, die in your sleep” business. This? [Dean points at Asa’s hunting wall] This only ends one way.

It’s difficult watching this knowing the ultimate end as I know Sam’s never agreed with this, being the one to want to see an end to hunting at some point; but you can’t deny Dean has been consistent in how he thinks he’s going to go out and has always seemed at peace with that.

Sam says they should get back and Dean agrees but warns Sam not to say “wendigo” to anyone. I love that he warns Sam. Every time Dean is a good brother, it just reminds me how much of a bad sister I am as I would not have passed on the warning. Sam’s confused about why he can’t say it but seems to just accept it.

Only a few people are around by the end of the night, still telling stories of Asa’s epic hunts - mainly Bucky. Why show, why give us this amazing man and kill him off in the first five minutes?!.

Anyway, turns out that the “ghoul story” from earlier had more to it. Asa and Jody got together for some “sweet sweet time alone”. Jody plays it down, says it was more of a casual thing. Turns out Asa could beat Dean in the ladies game and I think even Alicia and Max mother was one of his conquests (we saw this in the opening montage as well, Asa kissing a different woman in his car in between hunts).

Randy asks if people want a beer and heads to the kitchen, and I fear Randy is not long for this world as he walks down the hallway alone. We stay on him as he returns and my anxiety is kicking in, even with expecting something, it’s sudden when his throat is slit and he’s dragged off down a side corridor by someone wearing black.

Alicia walks back into the living room carrying two beers – and we’re reminded she’s dressed all in black?! Alicia? Surely not.

We see someone enter the door and only see their boots as they walk, they stop just outside the living rom where everyone is talking. Loraine hears the footsteps stop and tells the stranger to come in and not hover.

Turns out it’s Mary. Awkward Winchester family reunion, given I think from memory Mary walked out an episode or so ago.

Sam, Dean, Jody and Mary go somewhere more quiet to talk.

Mary: What are you doing here? Dean: What are you doing here?

I love the reversed dynamic of Sam being go between Dean and Mary (where it was the reverse between Sam and John). Sam introduces Mary to Jody as their mother.

Jody: I thought– I thought you were... Mary: I was. Jody: [quietly] Wow. Wow! [She hugs Mary excitedly] It is so nice to meet you!

She belatedly sees the awkward tension and ships out to give them “some family time”

Dean asks where Mary’s been and she responds she’s been using John’s journal to work through a few things.

Dean: You could’ve just asked us, you know. Sam: Dean, come on. Dean: She could’ve. Mary: It’s okay. He’s right. But… This is something I needed to do alone. I… Listen, most of the people I knew are dead. And then I remembered Asa. He was so young when I met him, I thought he must still be around. And then… I saw an article about his death, and, uh… Dean: So you’ll text us once a week, maybe, but you’ll drive all the way to Canada to see some dead guy? Well, that’s awesome. I’m gonna get some air. Mary: Dean, wait...

Mary tries to go after Dean but Sam stops her. Sam knows his brother.

Jody on the other hand stops Dean at the door and pretty much says she’s here if Dean wants to talk about anything other than killing Hitler (which Dean spent the five hour drive telling her in excruciating detail.). She talks about giving anything to have her dead husband and son back but at the same time she would be worried it wouldn’t be the same which gives Dean some food for thought in regard to his complicated relationship with Mary.

Mary’s in the kitchen getting a beer, Lorraine introduces herself as Asa’s mother. Mary introduces herself as Mary Winchester, which Lorraine can’t believe as Mary should be her age. Mary: It’s a long story. She says she’s sorry. Lorraine says she should be, Mary’s the reason her son didn’t become an astronaut. She’s very bitter and hands Mary the box with the postcards Asa wrote to her. Mary defends herself and says she saved Asa’s life.

Lorraine: [scoffing] What am I supposed to say to that? After you, Asa got so… Hunting was his whole life. He never married. Never had a family, kids. And now… enjoy the wake.

I love this next scene between Sam and Mary. Sam finds Mary and asks if she’s all right. She thrusts the box of postcards at him and says she’s fine. She goes into Asa’s office and tells Sam she saved Asa when he was a kid, and this is all on her.

Sam: Well, no. Obviously, mom, he made his own decisions. And he helped a lot of people, you know?

Sam and free will and then we have Season 15 debacle. Pfff

Mary tells him that everywhere she goes and everything she does just feels wrong, but she’ll get used to it.Sam tells her he understands, she just needs space and so does Dean, (who we see outside drinking from his flask), He says Dean is just scared they are going to lose her again,

Sam: “that – that because we're (Sam and Dean) hunters, you're gonna walk away. But I know that’s not true. Even looking at these… [Sam holds out the box of Asa’s postcards to Mary] I mean, you saved Asa in 1980, um, after Dean was born. After everyone thought you quit hunting. Seems like you couldn’t stop then, and… I’m guessing you can’t stop now, either. This job, this life, is crazy and insane. But it’s in our blood. Come on. [Sam puts his arm around Mary] Mary: Where we going? Sam: To say goodbye to Asa.

I love that Sam understands more than anyone the desire to have normal/safe, pulling against the need to save people/hunt things so I love this scene between him and Mary and I like Mary a little bit more because of it. Damn you Jared! You even got me to like Claire once!

They go to say goodbye to Asa and I like when Mary undoes the cover over his face and we get blood dripping onto Asa’s forehead. It’s interesting to have both Sam and Mary in this scene in a callback to Sam’s nursery scene. They both look up and it’s Randy, tied to the rafters, dead and bleeding from his neck wound.

Back in the living room, Bucky is still telling stories about Asa. Sam and Mary rush in and Sam tells everyone they need to leave because Randy is dead. I like this, it’s like a murder mystery now. All of a sudden, water is shut off (this is new canon?), and the twins can smell Sulphur. Lights are flickering. Demon alert!

Bucky tells them it’s Jael, a crossroads demon who hangs people, which is his thing, snaps necks (Asa), slits throats (Randy). Turns out Asa exorcised the demon but now it’s back. Bucky tries to open the door, Elvis helps but it slams shut.

Max (trying to impress Sam): you’re wasting your time [he waves a hand in front of the door and we see red symbols] Max says the entire house has been warded.

Not sure if that impressed Sam or not but Max had me at “Seriously, back off” and now this? *Fans self

Anyway, it means they are trapped inside.

Back outside with Dean, he’s still drinking from his flask. He hears footsteps and doesn’t bother turning around, just tells the person to “go away”. I think he thinks it’s Mary, but turns out to be Billy saying “you’re not the boss of me.”

Dean: Billie. What’re you doing here? Billie: My job. [Dean chuckles] Well, I’m not dead yet. Billie: Shame. But actually, I just finished inside. I was reaping a fresh soul.

Wait, what? But Dean’s brother is in there! Dean’s pissed and marches to the door.

Inside, Bucky is telling the group more about the demon Jael. Asa exorcised the demon but not before it killed a first nations girl by tying a noose around her neck.

Outside Dean is rattling and banging on the door

Dean: Sam. Sammy! Hey! Billie: You can huff and puff, but that house is on supernatural lockdown. They can’t even hear you.

Bucky is still expositioning and Dean is still trying to get past that old Winchester nemesis “the door”, even throwing a solid statue at it, but nothing is happening.

Okay, we’ve now reached the only part of this episode I have an issue with. We’ve got a group of hunters standing around wondering who the demon is amongst them and not one of them can remember the tests for a demon. Sam come on! You knew Christo in season 1 and you performed a reverse exorcism in season 8.

Anyway Elvis accuses Alicia of not being in the room and Max says Dean wasn’t in the room either (uh Max buddy, accusing Sam’s brother isn’t going to win you any points in the whole wooing thing, just fyi - of course wooing Sam in the first place is pretty dangerous terratory)

Finally Alicia remembers about holy water but they are all out. Elvis says they can just make more but Mary reminds them the water is off. Uh? The toilet bowl?

Dean’s stopped attacking the door and turns to Billie and asks, What did you do? Billy says it wasn’t her, she’s just cleaning up the mess but “it’s always nice to see a Winchester who can’t get what he wants.”

Dean: You think this is funny? Huh? Hunters are dying in there. Billie: Everyone dies.

Dean is pretty much losing his shit and I’d like to remind people that at this point, he doesn’t know which hunter has died.

Back with the group, Sam finally remembers his brother is outside so all focus is on Alicia who starts coughing. I think she’s faking it to screw with her brother (totally what I would do) but no,

Alicia/Jael: Alicia’s not here right now. [Her eyes glow red] Leave a message. [she punches Max] Oh, you’re a fun group. We’re gonna have a good time tonight.

Jael leaves Alicia in a cloud of demon smoke and flies into the fireplace. Sam and Max get Alicia up (Samaxia forever – warning for side effects which may include internal bleeding and even death)

They now need to figure who in the house Jael has jumped into. Jody gives the orders (I’ll forgive this, she’s a cop) and they pair off to search the house (why not sweep room to room?), Anyway, Sam’s with Mary and Jody’s with Bucky.

Dean’s worked out that Billy got in to reap the soul so if she can get in, she can get Dean in.

Billie: I could, I suppose. But– Dean: Do it! Billie: But it’s a one-way ticket. And you’re gonna owe me one.

Billie, Sammy is in there, do you think Dean cares about “cosmic consequences” at a time like this? There is a door between them right now ffs! Sammy may even be dead and Dean does not want him decomposing before he can find a crossroads to make a deal!

Elvis who was supposed to be partnering with Lorraine, left her briefly to get her a double (vodka I presume?). Anyway Dean comes flying through the door like the overly dramatic bitch he is whenever Sam is in danger.

Dean (whipping out demon knife): Where’s my brother? [he’s already marching past them btw to go look]

THIS IS MY SHOW! What moron thought this show was going to end with DeanCas? Come on, don’t be shy, show yourselves so we can point and laugh because you are going to have an epic tantrum approximately 3 and a half years from this episode which could have been prevented if you’d watched the damn show, instead of wallpaper. By the way, in this episode, Castiel was played by the statue Dean threw at the door. [It represents the violent nature of the Destiel relationship – I have a 500 page meta on this if anyone is interested].

Lorraine accuses Dean of being the demon.

Dean: Demon? Lorraine: Kill him! Dean: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy, lady. Look, I’m not a demon, okay? I’m one of the good guys. Now stick with me, do what I say, and everybody’ll get out of here, okay? Everybody!

Elvis – making far too much use of his screentime matches Dean’s dramatics by pulling out his own knife and saying ominiously “well, not everybody” [complete with red flashing eyes].

In this episode, Dean is allowed to be a proper hunter and is able to fight. He taunts the demon, “You’re kinda slow for a demon, aren’t you?” which, he seriously is, no idea how this demon got my wonderful favourite side character “Asa” killed (if he’s not in the final watching Kansas play at the Road House along with all my other favourites, I will be pissed and have a full week meltdown on Twitter – just fyi) [*I won’t really because I’m not insane. Please don’t report me.]

Dean tells the demon to go to hell. The demon tells Dean that Hell is a “complete train wreck” (uh, no, what is a “complete train wreck” is most of season 12-15) Hell is much more pleasant. Dean repeats for the demon to go to hell and starts reciting an exorcism (finally, the smart brother is in the room). Love hearing Dean recite the exorcism. Demon says nuh uh though and snaps Elvis’ neck complete 180 which causes Lorraine to scream, the black smoke escapes from Elvis still standing body. Elvis collapses on the floor and Lorraine is wailing. And I can say “Elvis has left the bulding” which I’ve been waiting the entire episode to be able to say. I’m marginally disappointed Dean didn’t.

Dean helps Lorraine up while shouting “Sammeh!” which brings Sammeh running to the living room.

Mary: Dean. We thought you were outside. Dean: Yeah, I got back in. Sam: How? Dean: It was a one-time deal. Won’t happen again.

Thankfully, there’s no time for Sam to initiate the Spanish inquisition on THAT right now. They account for everyone – except Elvis obviously. The lights go out and everyone puts flashlights on (Max and Alicia have the phone torch on – me as a hunter!) but Dean pulls out the knife which Alicia and Max look at.

Alicia: Mm, impressive. Dean: Demon blade. Kills ‘em dead. Max and Alicia in unison: Nice.

While I try to work out a Sam/Max/Alicia/Dean ship name, Bucky suggests lighting candles, Dean says they need a devil’s trap. Sam says “on it” and Dean is right there with him “yep”. My boys working in sync!

Dean’s plan is for them all to stand in the devil’s trap. The person who won’t get in, is the demon. Clever plan. Mary is impressed and it’s nice for her to see how well one of her sons turned out as a hunter and the other is a cute dumbass – at least Sam had a flashlight.

Mary goes off on her own for some reason and goes to get the angel killing blade from Asa’s office.

Max tries flirting with Sam again, asking what kind of pentagram they are doing

Sam: Standard pentagram. Nothing fancy. Max: I like a Fifth Pentacle of Mars. It’s got more character.

Max bringing his A game to the flirting, I like it. Alicia doesn’t like all the flirting: “Because character is really what matters right now.” They are just like Sam and Dean! Spin off of codependent witch siblings right tf now. Please and thank you.

Jody sees Mary return and is suspicious she was off on her own. She whispers to Sam that she thinks Mary is possessed, she gets increasingly worried which draws the immediate attention of Dean who comes over and asks what is going on (demon knife drawn out and ready once again). Sam quietly tries to tell Dean that Jody thinks their mom is a demon, but Jody shouts, No, I don’t think, I know! I know she’s a demon. [points accusingly at Mary] which prompts Bucky to steps away from Mary and reaches for his knife.

Mary: Hey! Jody: Kill her! Use the knife! Kill her now! Sam: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait. Hold on a second, [turns to look at Jody] Jody, you… You don’t sound like yourself. Dean (not even looking around):That’s because she’s not herself. Are you?

Oh my poor Sam Dumbchester, on rewatch, this episode did you dirty, I was sucked in by my love of Asa Fox and the whole door thing and the Sammeh! I’m so ashamed. Hands my bitter Sam girl platinum membership card back to the bitter Sam girl club in recognition I am no longer worthy of holding it Jody turning into the red eyed demon is in the running for worst “playing of a different character ever” but it’s up against stiff competition from Casifer, Empty!Castiel, Gestapo!Castiel and gayforpay!Castiel and is mercifully short. My main issue with this demon is there is no real consistency through the different bodies it inhabits. They should all have agreed how to play it imo and I do think Kim goes Disney villain OTT but not enough to cause embarrassment, just would have been better if the performance had been toned down some.

Demon Jody had hoped they would kill their mom “wouldn’t that be a riot?”

Dean (sarcastically): Yeah, super fun

Sam tries to attack Jody and is thrown. Big brother is pissed and tries to attack but is thrown too. Uh, how come the lame demon can fight now?

Anyway, Mary attacks and tries to kill Jody with the demon blade and manages to scratch her arm, but Sam says no and pulls Mary away. .

Mary: What are you doing?! She’s a demon. We kill demons. Sam: No, but she’s Jody.

I like this that Mary doesn’t know you don’t just go around killing people, you try to save them first.

The demon is bored and claps her hands, and everyone collapses onto the ground and cannot move (where was this kickass power earlier?). The demon says she’s heard so many stories about the Winchesters, she stands over sam and says, “The idea that he left a meatsuit alive is just so deliciously weak.” Sam gives his “bite me” face.

As for the rest, she’s been inside their heads and starts spilling out secrets – the twins are Asa’s children (I forgot about this detail), Lorraine apparently tried to sabotage Asa’s truck to stop him going out hunting (which is a nice call back to him trying to fix the truck in the episode earlier). She says Jody fantasized about a life with Asa. Bucky manages to get up to attack but Jody grabs him and holds him on his knees.

Jody/Jael: And you. Bucky. Brave, brave Bucky. I was there that night. Tell these nice, stupid people what you did. Tell them what you took from me. Asa was mine.

I like this next scene, Sam manages to stand up and start the exorcism before he’s thrown across the room again. Dean picks up where Sam left off, until he’s thrown through a glass door, the twins are next and get pinned to the wall.

Bucky finally confesses that he killed Asa [and the way he’s dramatically thrown to the floor would never have made it into a scene in seasons 1 to 5]. Oh show, weeps for the quality that once was. Season 12 (heavy sigh).

Mary stands up and finishes the exorcism which sends the demon back to hell.

Sam rushes over to help Jody who says, “That… sucked”

[Try re-watching your performance Kim!]

Lorraine: Bucky, what did you do?

They all turn and look at Bucky.

Bucky says they were hunting in the woods for Jael and he wanted to go back and get the angel blade. Asa wanted to keep hunting but Bucky pushed him and Asa fell and cracked his head and died, which I feel kind of sorry for, not like he did it deliberately and he lost his best friend [and lets be real, it’s not the worst thing a supposed “best friend” has done on this show]. It’s a very tragic end for a great hunter (don’t fast forward to 15.20)

Bucky asks what they are going to do to him.

Alicia: Tell everyone, every hunter we meet. They’re gonna know your name, Bucky. Know what you did. Max: You like stories. This is the story everyone’s gonna tell about you. Forever

I guess I get Max and Alicia’s anger, Asa being their dad and all. It’s just tragic all round because I do feel it was an unlucky accident and Bucky clearly misses his best friend.

I like the setup of the funeral pyre, now 3 hunter bodies being burned, Jody, Lorraine and Mary are standing in front of the pyre. Alicia and Max are resting against their car and Dean and Sam are doing the same against baby.

Lorraine tells Mary she was wrong, “Asa did have a family. He even had kids. I’ve got grandchildren. Suppose I should go meet them.” She walks over to hug Alicia and Max.

Jody and Mary are left at the pyre,

Jody: I don’t know what’s going on between you and your boys, but I gotta tell you, mom to mom, they are good men. Best I’ve ever met. Mary: I know. They’re not the problem.

Jody walks away and leaves Mary on her own, which is Dean’s opportunity, he taps Sam and they both go over to Mary. They ask if she’s okay but Billy appears and says, “She’s really not.” Mary asks who she is and Dean says she’s a reaper that got him back inside.

I would like to have much preferred to have seen Sam’s reaction as well as Mary’s but we don’t get this and it’s a bad choice of angle for me. Billie says Dean owes her one and looks at Mary, “This one. This one right here.”

Billie is still on her “what’s dead should stay dead” kick. She’s a stickler for the laws on that (and never really changes tbh, I don’t really get Billie’s overall arc.)

Mary says she didn’t ask to come back, Billie agrees but says the dead man’s look in Mary’s eyes says she hates it, that she feels she doesn’t fit, like she’s all alone.

Dean: Well, she’s not alone.

Billie (still looking at Mary): Tell me I’m wrong. [Sam and Dean turn to look at Mary and kudos to Jared once again for saying so much with no words as to how he looks at Mary here]

Billy says she’s not here to hurt Mary, “I’m here to offer you mercy. A one-way ticket upstairs, away from all of this.” [Again poor choice of camera for this scene as we see Dean but not Sam]. Mary asks how it would work.

Sam: Mom. [My poor boys!] Mary: You just kill me again? Billie: Reapers don’t kill people. Rules. Mary: Well… then… [she looks up at Sam and Dean] Me: Don’t you dare break my boys fragile hearts! Mary: Then I guess you’re just gonna have to wait. Billie: Winchesters… Me: Same tbh Billie Billie: …if you change your mind– if any of you change your minds– you know my name. [she disappears]

Sam asks if this means Mary is coming home. Mary says yeah, but follows up with: Not quite yet. I just need a little more time.

Sam looks disappointed ☹ but he understands

Dean: Can we buy you breakfast at least? Mary: Bacon? Dean: All the bacon. Mary: I would love that.

I love that Dean and Mary can find a common bond through food. Sam hugs Mary as they walk together towards the Impala

Despite a couple of wobbly bits sprinkled here and there and my poor Dumbchester Sammeh, I still really love this episode overall, the good far outweighs the issues I have and I’ll happily re-watch it as a stand-alone MOTW. I loved the introduction of the witch twins and wish we’d got to see a lot more of them *coughs* and a lot less of other “fan favourite” characters.

It will be interesting where this one will ultimately fall in my definitive list.

#spn rewatch #12.06 #celebrating the life of asa fox #episode review #episode recap #Dabb era actually has some quite good episodes to enjoy #if you ignore being repeatedly punched in the face with Cass is best friend/brother

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vancilocs · 4 years ago

Note

2-10 21-27 34-38 for karma and goose?

a businesswoman and a relentless dumbass

2. How easy is it for your character to laugh?

Among friends, pretty easy. At work, with enough money. With people she's not good friends with she'll smile but not laugh easily.

Really easy, easiest joke will do it. However also does a nervous laugh, so if he's uneasy he will chuckle abt it

3. How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)

Have something to help her sleep, do a calming facemask, listen to calming music, meditate a lil, put on an eyepatch and go to bed. Knocked out pretty soon

Thinks about if pigeons have feelings for a long while before he falls asleep

4. How easy is it to earn their trust?

Not very easy, she's wary of especially those she meets at work. Also depends on your age and gender, trusts old men the least

He's not super trusting right off the bat, but he's friendly and gaining the trust from then on is fairly easy

5. How easy is it to earn their mistrust?

Pretty easy, do something that slights her and she will remember forever and make it hard to regain any trust

If trust has been gained, he usually needs someone to point out there's something up to start being mistrustful. If just met, it's easier for him to feel like there's something wrong

6. Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?

Very flexible, she avoids breaking them outright and specializes in just finding ways to either bend them or find legal ways to screw someone up

He doesn't deal with law much, but they should be flexible, like if someone is hungry and a food vendor would be throwing that bread away anyways where's the harm in getting that bread

7. What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

Old music from her childhood, doing anything desk job adjacent like budgeting or even seeing an excel spreadsheet

Flavors from around where he grew up, sometimes hearing seagulls it reminds him of how it was to listen to them when he was small

8. What were they told to stop/start doing most often as a child

Start smiling more, stop doing your classmates' homework for money

Sit down and read more books, stop stuffing yourself into nooks and crannies in the coast rocks you're gonna get stuck

9. Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word?

She swears quite a lot, doesn't really remember the first time

Doesn't swear too much but still does, got a scolding from his first swear word so yes he remembers

10. What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

The most common lies are "yes, that feels good" or "you're so amazing" or "I love you" and she doesn't think twice about saying them

Either "oh I get it" or then a sadder "it's ok" when someone's rude to him, he's a lil sad abt it but the trick is to just avoid people who are rude to you

21. Why do they get up in the morning?

Has a job to do, has friends she loves to hang out with, she looks hot and wants people to see her, has vengeance to exact

Lots of things to see and pretty rocks to hunt and husband to kees

22. How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)?

She gets short-tempered and passive-aggressive, kinda possessive too, doesn't wanna say what's bothering her when asked

He gets kinda sad, like... you like hanging out with them? It's ok it's fine you go on ahead tell me when you're free so we could maybe hang out then later

23. How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)?

Kinda pissy for a moment but then she thinks she's too good for that and gives herself what's needed to not feel envious anymore

He's not really envious much, at most it's like "that seems really cool..." in a wistful way, but he moves on quick and even quicker if he's allowed to have some too. I think the biggest source of envy is feeling dull and inadequate -> finding a conch that gave him some magic powers too

24. Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom?

She's very comfortable with it, in a suitable conversation, with anyone who gives their consent, she talks about it Gabe all the time, her flirting is very sexual, you'll find out her favorite position before you find out her age

Not really? Those conversations are only with Elk

25. What are their thoughts on marriage?

She doesn't have any specific desire to get married, is totally fine never getting married, might change her mind with the right partner but it's not important to her

It's wasn't like a super important life goal but he does love being married and was so happy to do it, wouldn't change it for the world

26. What is their preferred mode of transportation?

If she goes anywhere, it's in the back of a limo

Feet or carried by husband

27. What causes them to feel dread?

Cops in her establishment, rude patrons threatening her workers

The feeling that he fucked up real bad and caused other people harm

34. How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt?

Depends. Small lies, crimes, making someone a lil pissed she will brush off easily, but if innocents get hurt or are in danger she will feel kinda guilty (and then do something about it, after that she will wash her hands of it because she did what she could)

Very hard, he's been constantly guilty for things so it's a feeling he really hates and wants to get rid of immediately

35. How do they treat the things their friends come to them excited about? Are they supportive?

She's supportive, might not understand what they're excited about but she's willing to listen, ayoooo we'll drink to that

Very excited and supportive and encouraging, that's so great, that sounds so cool, that's amazing I can't wait to see

36. Do they actively seek romance, or do they wait for it to fall into their lap?

She's wary about romance at the moment, deliberately shields herself and uses her job to just get what she needs out of other people, if someone wants to try they're welcome to.

He's seeking friends more, romance kinda has to be initiated to him for him to get it but after that if he's interested, he will show it.

37. Do they have a system for remembering names, long lists of numbers, things that need to go in a certain order (like anagrams, putting things to melodies, etc)?

She has secure apps to remember passwords and such, some long numbers she remembers through short melodies. Gabe is the one who coins passwords from Bible passages

He doesn't remember shit. Not a fuck.

38. What memory do they revisit the most often?

Remembering being dumped and thrown out gives her the right dose of righteous anger to get through her day

Nice ones, cuddles, weddings, kisses

#heh both go by nicknames #long oc thing

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spiralesbian · 4 years ago

Text

ALRIGHT

here’s my full Stranger Avatar Sasha Archivist timeline:

(also, thanks to @artbyblastweave for being so interested in my lil au!)

SEASON ONE

sasha james is hired as the head archivist of the magnus institute!

her assistants are jon, tim, and martin

tim takes the thematic role of martin (aka getting tormented by my worm wife jane, and stays in the archives)

sasha reads thru statements and is a skeptic! she really does not believe it’s real until jane comes along.

“tim……………………..did you die here?”

“no, but every time i come to work i die a little more inside.”

cute timsha moment in the supply closet tho.

until martin kool-aid-mans through the door and gets them out of there

jon used to work in artefact storage so he hides in there. he’ll be fine

i actually can’t remember how they all get out but they do it KKJSDGFJHD

sasha takes everyone’s statements. tim is fucked up, martin is also fucked up, jon is actually fine though he seems pretty normal about this whole situation most definitely.

sasha realizes this is a bit more than a regular archivist job.

SEASON TWO

sasha gets paranoid of course. she learns more about gertrude because she never got the chance to meet her

she takes a statement from a guy named michael shelley. weird dude. then helen shows up :)

jon is most definitely himself he is just a normal regular grumpy jon i swear :)

sasha starts to manifest her powers a little bit. she doesn’t know it, but she is an avatar of the stranger, and a prisoner of the eye.

she starts to notice more things about jon? similar to this comic but with jon

eventually she + tim + martin help get jon out of the grip of the NotJon. this is my au and i get to choose who dies (it’s no one because i miss the s1 archival assistants too much).

jon is pretty fucked up from this though and at like a season-3-tim mindset already.

fucking goddamn leitner avatar of the fucking whore shows up to trap the NotJon in one of his shitty fucking novels. fuck this guy tho

he’s like Sasha We Must Talk and shes like okay but stay 8 ft away from me at all times you bitch

she leaves the room for 10 minutes and pipe murder occurs. good riddance

wait are the cops in the season i genuinely can’t remember. if they are, their roles don’t change very much. melanie and sasha feud, battle of the bi queens

SEASON THREE:

uh oh! girlie’s be framed for murder! she crashes at her ex gf georgie’s flat. also the admiral is there don’t think i would EVER cut him out of this story

(also jon is georgie’s ex too because i think that would be fun JDHBFHS)

sasha learns abt an upcoming web ritual (mirroring the unknowing), all that shit. gets kidnapped a ton of times, as usual.

helen is like “i am going to kill you because i hate gertrude <3 i was that dumb bitch’s assistant for too long” but michael busts out of the door like Hi Guys and traps her in the hallway.

sasha also gives her statement about a leitner she found as a child that marked her. its a stranger book and we learn her edgy orphan origin story how her parents were both murked by the stranger. fucked up if true!

back at the archives jon is like so fucking tired of this shit honestly and now martin is also pretty paranoid. also jm romance subplot is still very present!

tim is just trying to protect sasha at all times and he’s pissed she keeps leaving the country and getting fucking kidnapped

(remember when jon persuades the traffic cop?) sasha starts to fill her archivist role in a different way. she can shapeshift into the subject of a statement and uses her affiliation with the eye to coerce statements or info out of people. (example: if she needed a live statement from the guy in #90 Body Builder, she could temporarily make herself look like jared hopworth to the guy and ask “what happened to me?” or “what did i do?” and the guy would be like well he built some fucken bodies i guess let me tell you all about it) while reading the statements in america that refuel her, she fully shapeshifts into the statement giver while reading out loud.

once again i truly can’t remember daisy + basira’s roles until the end of the season. also melanie get shot by the ghost at some point

anyways sasha gets kidnapped by trevor and julia and they gerry lays out all the shit for her and she’s like ah! i’m fucked

tim offhand mentions the web ritual to martin and he loses his shit cause he’s marked by the web blah blah this isn’t a web!martin thing i swear i just need someone to fill tim’s role in the ritual and a lonely ritual would be fucking boring as hell as we learned from ass man peter lukas. i hate that man

so they make the plan to stop the web ritual (which is fucking hard when the offense knows your every move) so sasha, basira, daisy, jon, and martin go.

tim stays back at the institute to burn shit and distract elias. elias does some fucked up shit as usual and it makes me sad

the ritual starts! they have a plan to blow it up and run but like. u know how it goes

instead of the unknowing-stranger-dream-sequence, we get everyone kinda mixed up in a huge spider’s web on the big stage and its still quite confusing because this ritual not only manipulates the prey, but also the prey’s perceived reality. the web is also in current control of the buried coffin cause they think that shit is kinda fun. they yeet daisy into it.

hard to describe what happens, but basira keeps her cool, jon is a bit lost in his own mind, sasha tries to use her powers to escape but fails. she manages to get through to martin through the strings and mounds of spiders and she tosses him the detonator.

[squishing spider noises]

SEASON FOUR:

martin doesn't die, i told you i can't kill the og archival assistants! he does lose most of one leg though, he took the blunt of the explosion.

sasha in da hospital in da coma. tim is mad he can’t wake her up and then my man ollie says “ur fucked up mate” and she wakes up

(and because coma jon has such wild hair controversy, i’m establishing that her head was shaved when she was in the coma. it grows back thru s4. it she keeps one side shaved cause she’s cool)

meanwhile tim is recruited by that dumbass man you know who i don’t even wanna say his stupid fucking name

sasha gets daisy out of the buried. they become avatar pals!

(there is the biggest blank in my memory where all of season four should be. at this point i should just relisten to the entire fucking show but i would literally just forget it all again)

melanie says hm. fuck this! and blinds herself. she goes to live with georgie (and that’s the moment jon and sasha realize they are both georgie’s exes FHFHDJD)

tim continues to fight the lonely pull. he thinks that since p*ter l*kas is tied to the institute, he can blind himself out cause melanie was successful. he is wrong. he is also interrupted by elias midway, and only blinds one eye, and loses most of his sight in the other. elias’s hold on him is weak, but this just drives him way farther into the lonely.

gotta be honest i remember the end of season four but like i couldn’t visualize what was happening at the end so i like don’t understand what happened JGDKFJGD but sasha intervenes (???) and peter yeets tim into the lonely (???) and sasha jumps in (??????) after him. elias is just there i guess?

instead of “look at me martin,” sasha finds tim and at this point her form is warped and hard to recognize because of stranger powers, and tim is almost 100% blind, so she says “don’t look at me, see me. see me tim, it’s me.” and finally creates a clear image of herself. “it’s...it’s you. you’re my sasha.”

they break free and go to scotland i guess KHSDDKDSF

idk what happens with jon and martin im losing continuity at this point. fuck it, they smooch <3

“ah these are the statements.”

“yes. basira said last week she’d send some up as soon as the archives weren’t a crime scene. and she wasn’t sure which ones you’ve read already, so she, she just said she’d send a bunch.”

“.........Hello Sasha.”

(alternate ending: personally i think sasha would read through each statement before speaking them aloud cause that’s what i would fucking do, so she would get this statement and be like “lmao tim come look at this elias trying to prank me dumb bitch think i’ll start the apocalypse for him. fucking little puny bitch boy. anyways what do you want for dinner?”)

SEASON FIVE:

“just. listen.”

“...i’m dead. and you have been chosen to be my replacement as head archivist. hopefully, this means you, jon, but if someone else is hearing this, and elias has made a different choice for some reason, then these words are still very much intended for you.”

sasha in full stranger avatar mode and is like 8ft tall and her faces shift a lot as they go through the realms. except the stranger is the second to last one (the panopticon is last obviously).

helen and michael actually talk shit out in the spiral hallway and now they are mlm wlw solidarity and both like tim and sasha are such bi and trans icons <3 this is so fun don’t you love the fearpocalypse <3

oh daisy n basira trapped in the hunt, and jon and martin are trapped in the stranger. wtgfs + the admiral are like in space or some shit idk but they are ok :)

not much to report other than she is my monster wife <3

i really don’t have many theories to how everything in s5 is gonna pan out, and i would like to closely mirror the actual show, so maybe as we get closer to the end i’ll build more on to this! thanks a lot for all the notes on my first sarchivist post!! also if u wanna make art this specific au DEF tag me in it i’d love to see!!

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