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thelukesalvez · 4 years

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Luke Alvez x Reader: Premature

Request: ‘can i request an imagine where the reader is pregnant and luke’s away on a case when she goes into labor? and garcia has to call luke to get him home?’

Tagged: @ssaic-jareau , @alvezstan , @saintd0lce , @ogmilkis , @reidswords, @ssa-morgan, @garcias-batcave , @akimagies, @zhangyixingxing1 , @pinkdiamond1016

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: none

A/N: idk why i always picture luke with a daughter??? but anyway another DAD luke fic like yes pls, enjoy!

The worst part about being pregnant had to be the lower back aches. Or maybe the way your swollen ankles prevented you from fitting into any of your cute shoes. It could also be the tender breasts, the mood swings, or how food didn’t taste as good, yet somehow you were still always hungry. Come to think of it, being pregnant, in general, was the worst.

Currently, you were seven and a half months along. You had 6 weeks until your daughter would be born. 6 weeks somehow felt both impossibly long and just around the corner. On one hand, you really couldn’t wait to get your body back. You missed wearing pants that didn’t have an elastic waistband, and the freedom of being able to get out of bed without Luke’s help.

On the other hand, you and Luke were going to be first time parents. This brought about a lot of anxiety and uncertainty. There was still so much to get done before the baby arrived, that at times you couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed.

“You worry too much,” Luke had told you one afternoon.

But you disagreed. “Luke, she’s gonna be here in less than two months and her room isn’t even close to being finished. We still have to paint, and put together the crib-”

“We have six weeks, baby. I’ll get it done, I promise.”

His reassuring words did little to calm your mind or your nerves. One thing that did keep the anxious thoughts at bay, was work. Focusing your attention on BAU cases was the perfect distraction… until that was taken away from you too.

“I don’t want you in the field,” Luke had stated that night.

“You’re joking, right?”

Luke’s pressed lips and slightly flared nostril told you that no, he was not joking.

“Luke,” you’d groaned, throwing your head back against the pillow. “I’m fine.”

“You can barely walk, let alone chase after anyone,” he stated, his arms folding across his chest. He always did that when he wanted you to take him seriously. “And I know for a fact that you can’t fit into a bulletproof vest.”

You threw him your best glare. “Okay, first off, that was mean. Second, you can’t expect me to just sit here all day doing nothing. I’ll go insane, you know I will.”

“Baby, you’re seven months pregnant. You need to relax.”

“Relax? Seriously, Luke?” you felt a wave of frustration wash over you. Lately you've been finding it so hard to control your emotions, so you’re not entirely surprised when you feel the burning of tears in your eyes. “I can’t relax! I’m uncomfortable all the time. I’m fat and I’m hot and I’m sweaty. My boobs feel like they’re going to explode any second. I’m nauseous and I’m tired and I’m hungry. And if I stay home all day that’s all I’m going to think about. I’m going to just sit and dwell on the fact that I am miserable.”

Luke’s face softens when he sees that you’re crying. That wasn’t an uncommon occurrence lately, but he felt guilty for being the one to cause it this time around.

“C’mere,” he says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

And even though you’re angry with him, you don’t hesitate before scooting up the mattress and sliding into his arms. You lay your head on his shoulder, Luke’s hand finding its way down to your lower back, where he rubs gentle circles into the sore muscles. Being in his arms had a way of making you feel better.

“I’m sorry you’re so uncomfortable, baby. I just- I worry about you. All I want is for you and the baby to be okay.”

You sniffle into his chest, his sweet words making your voice soften. “I can’t sit here all day, Luke. I really can’t.”

“I know.” He rests his cheek on top of your head and sighs. “How about we meet in the middle?”

Looking up at him, you skeptically ask, “How?”

“You could work the cases from the BAU,” he suggests.

You scrunch your nose, secretly hoping that his compromise meant just giving in to what you wanted entirely. But, as you think about it for a moment, you had to admit you didn’t completely hate the idea. Things were getting challenging in the field. And as much as you hated him for saying it, Luke was right- the bulletproof vests no longer fit you, and you couldn’t chase down any perps. You were relatively useless, at least physically, at this point.

“I’m sure Garcia would love an extra hand,” he adds.

“Fine,” you mutter quietly.

“Thank you,” he whispers, pressing a light peck against the top of your head.

But, as Luke would soon find, just because you agreed to be stationed at the BAU did not mean you weren’t going to complain about it.

The two of you walked, hand-in-hand, into the building the next morning. Emily had called, about fifteen minutes prior, to let you both know that you had a case in Boston.

“What if I just stay at the police precinct?”

Luke rolled his eyes. “No.”

“Why not? I could help Reid with the geological profile- or interview the families. There’s a lot I can do-”

“We already agreed that you’d stay here.”

You scoffed in frustration before trying another tactic.

“You know,” you drawled, using the hand he wasn’t already holding to reach around and grip his arm. “I’m worried about you, too.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” you state, matter-of-factly. “Just because I’m carrying the baby doesn’t mean I’m the only one that needs to stay safe. It would be equally devastating if something happened to you. You let your hand trail down the length of his arm and over to your belly. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

Luke swiped his ID badge to get inside the building before holding the door open for you, you hesitate, waiting for his response. Luke’s lips were parted into a soft grin. “I know you’re just trying to make me feel guilty, but that was really sweet.” He leans forward and pecks your lips lightly.

You roll your eyes and storm into the building.

…

“So I hear we’re going to be lab partners!” Garcia drums her fingers against the round table.

You shrug, “Looks like it.”

“I know you’re bummed to not be in the field, but I’m so excited that you’ll be here.”

Luke’s hand reaches for yours underneath the table. You let your fingers lace together with his before you smile back at Garcia. Maybe being sidelined wouldn’t be all bad. “I’m excited too, Pen,” you tell her.

“Alright guys listen up,” Emily enters the briefing room. “Police need our help in Boston. Two college students have gone missing the past month, and one of the bodies was just found dumped off of I-95. Y/N will be working the case from here, so we’ll be down a body in the field.”

Garcia hits a few buttons on the remote, making a gruesome image project onto the screen in front of the team. She presents a few more details about the case before Emily declares, “Wheels up in 20.”

Luke’s shifting through his go bag at his desk when you approach him from behind. You rest your hand on his back and rub up and down his soft, maroon shirt.

“Be safe, okay?” you tell him. You felt guilty knowing he was going into the field without you.

Luke sighs, turning his body so that he was facing you. His big hands rest on your hips as he holds you out in front of him. “You know I will.”

You nod, and you believed his words, but that didn’t mean you’d be any less worried about him while he was away.

Luke could sense the uneasiness on your face, so he leaned in and kissed your cheek lightly before whispering, “There is nothing that could ever keep me from coming back home to you and our baby, do you hear me?”

Leaning into his touch, you sigh. “Good. Because I meant what I said; I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“We’re going to miss you out there, kid.” Rossi states as he passes your desk.

“Keep me updated,” you respond sadly. He pats you on the shoulder before nodding with a smile.

With a final kiss and promises to call, Luke and the rest of the team load onto the jet to head for Boston.

At first, you stay in the bullpen seated at your desk, running through the casefile. You were the only one in the entire room. By habit, you kept looking up at Luke’s desk. Instead of his warm smile, you’re met by his empty chair. Your eyes linger for a moment before you feel a sharp pain shoot across your stomach, making you wince.

“Woah,” you whisper, your hand falling on your bump. “Was that a kick?” you ask her out loud.

It didn’t take long before the silence became deafening, so after a few minutes, you stand up and waddle down the hallway to Garcia’s leir. You knock at her door before entering.

“Hey,” you say, your hand supporting your sore back. “It’s like, creepy quiet out there, do you mind if I work with you, in here?”

Her face lights up. “Of course!” Immediately, she begins clearing off a space on her desk for you to set up.

“Thanks,” you smile, taking a seat in her spare office chair. You try your best to sit up straight as your insides begin to cramp. Garica turns to see your eyes squeezed shut.

“What’s wrong?” her voice is filled with concern.

“Nothing,” you sigh in relief when the cramp passes. “She’s kicking a lot today.”

Garcia’s face breaks out into a large grin. “Oh! My Goddaughter’s gonna be a spunky one, isn’t she?”

…

As it turned out, there wasn’t much for you to do from the BAU. Garcia worked tirelessly, delving into files and uncovering helpful information for the team. But you weren’t even close to being as tech savvy as her, and besides the casefile you’d already read through four times, you didn’t have many resources to work off of.

Whenever the team would call with questions, you’d listen intently, and try to figure out some way that you could help them. But, by that evening, you were starting to feel pretty useless.

“Why don’t you just head home?” Garcia suggested kindly. “You look tired.”

You were tired. You were tired and hungry and sore from all your baby’s kicking. But you shook your head. “I don’t want to be in the house alone,” you admit to her. “It’s too quiet there without Luke.”

Garcia, of course, understands. “Do you want to take a walk? Just around the building?”

At first, you want to say no. But as you consider her offer, you can’t help but admit that stretching your legs sounded pretty nice, so you agree.

“I think I’m most excited for coffee,” you tell Garcia. The two of you had walked the entire floor of the BAU a couple of times now and were about to head back to her office.

“God, I can’t even imagine going nine months without coffee. I think that would break me,” she admits.

You start to laugh, but you’re quickly interrupted by a sudden, sharp pain in your abdomen.

“Woah,” you gasp, grabbing your stomach. You hunch over, desperate to alleviate some of the pain, but it only grows with intensity. It takes your breath away for a moment, and all you can do is focus on the tiled floor beneath you as you attempt to muscle through it.

But then you feel something burst inside of you, followed by a warm liquid rushing down your leg.

With wide, terrified eyes, you look up to Garcia.

“Pen,” you whisper, barely recognizing your own voice. “I th-think my water just broke...”

“Oh my god,” she says, her voice higher than usual. “Oh my god, okay, okay. You’re okay.”

She hurries to your side and wraps an arm around your waist. You and your shaky legs are grateful for her support. She guides you to a chair stationed in the hallway, where she helps you sit.

The panic really starts to set in once your eyes land on your dampened pants.

“No,” you start to shake your head rapidly. “Pen, no I can’t- it’s too early-”

You’re amazed by how calm Garcia remains. “It’s okay,” she tells you. “We’re gonna get you to the hospital and everything’s gonna be fine.”

But you keep shaking your head. “No, she’s early. She’s too early- I need Luke, please- I can’t do this.”

“I’m gonna call Luke right now, everything’s going to be okay.”

Garcia pulls out her phone and dials your husband. She frowns when it goes to voicemail after a few rings.

By now, there’s a steady influx of tears spilling down your cheeks. You ask softly, “Why isn’t he answering?”

“Let me try Emily.”

You sigh a breath of relief when you hear Emily’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Emily-” Garcia gasps. “Where’s Luke?”

You overhear her, “He’s interrogating the Unsub- why? What’s the matter?”

“Y/N’s in labor, we need him.”

“Oh my god,” Emily says. There’s a brief pause before she tells Garcia, “I’ll be right back.”

“Pen-” you groan, another contraction washing over you. You hunch over in the chair and grab at the air, desperate for something to clamp down on.

She quickly extends her hand, letting you squeeze it tightly.

“Garcia?” you hear Luke’s sweet voice over the line. You want to call out for him, but you can’t form the words.

“Luke!” she exclaims, her concerned eyes never leaving you. “Luke, Y/N’s in labor- her water just broke. You have to come home.”

You gasp and bite down on your lip as the pain suddenly intensifies.

“Breathe,” she instructs you calmly. “Just breathe with me-”

“What?” you can hear the disbelief in his voice. “But- she’s only seven months pregnant- that's too early-”

The contraction passes, leaving you breathless, but you hold your hand out. Garcia picks up on your gesture and hands you the phone.

“Luke-” you’re on the verge of bursting into terrified tears. “I’m so scared.”

“Baby, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.” You can hear the worry in his voice as he soothes you. “I’m on my way, okay? I’m gonna take the jet, I’ll be there soon.”

“I don’t know if I can do this-”

“No, baby- of course you can, you’re so strong. You’re gonna be okay.”

“Please hurry,” you whimper.

“I will, I love you.”

You pass the phone to Garcia reluctantly. You wished you could stay on the line with him. Something about hearing his voice made you feel calmer.

You’re shaky and weak, but Garcia helps you all the way into the elevator and down into the parking garage. You hesitate before climbing into the front seat of her car.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her hand gently placed on your elbow.

“I don’t want to get your seat all gross-”

You’re referring to the amniotic sac fluid currently soaking your pants.

“Are you serious?” she asks in disbelief. “If we don’t hurry you’re going to be giving birth in my car, so I think I’ll take my chances with the water.”

You nod quickly and climb into the front seat. While Garcia hurries around to the front, you clutch onto your baby bump tightly, wondering why the hell she was coming so early.

Garcia winds through traffic hurriedly, every so often she glances in your direction, trying to make sure you’re okay. “I guess they weren’t kicks,” you groan, as another contraction washes over you. You grip the door handle until your knuckles turn white and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Keep breathing,” Garcia soothes. She lets you take her hand across the console and doesn’t even wince when you squish it tightly in yours.

“I’m really scared, Penelope,” you whimper quietly, falling back against the seat when the contraction passes.

“I know,” Garcia clicks her tongue empathetically.

“Nothing’s ready. Not her room- we haven’t even set up her crib yet I’m not ready. I was supposed to have another 6 weeks to get ready-”

But Penelope is shaking her head. “You, right now, as you are, are going to be a great mother, okay? You’re ready.”

She sounded so sure, so confident in you- maybe she was right.

…

“Where is he?”

You’re sweating, exposed in a delivery room, and in more pain than you ever have been in your entire life.

Garcia’s stayed by your side the entire time, holding your hand and talking you through the pain. You’d been at the hospital about two hours now.

Currently, Garcia was dabbing your forehead with a wet washcloth. Your contractions were about 6 minutes apart. According to the doctor, you’d have to start pushing soon.

“I can’t do this without him. He should be here..”

“He’ll be here.”

You look up at her, exhausted and with fear in your eyes.

Garcia squeezes your shoulder. “And if he’s not here, then we’ll do this together, okay? You and me.”

“Promise you won’t leave?”

She nods. “I promise.”

…

Luke’s sprinting through the maze of a hospital trying desperately to find the delivery room number that Garcia texted him. He’s already been redirected by a couple of nurses, but every floor looked the same.

The door number came into sight when he turned the corner. He doesn’t hesitate before running the final distance between the two of you.

Luke swings the door open, only able to exhale when his eyes finally land on you.

You’re sitting up in your bed, hair tied up messily and cheeks flushed.

As soon as you see him, he sees your shoulder slump, like you’ve exhaled a breath of relief.

“Luke-”

His name is barely audible, but it’s enough.

“I’m here, baby,” he assures you, crossing the room in just two, large strides.

Garcia’s on the opposite side of your bed, clutching your hand tightly. After pressing his lips against your sweaty forehead, he looks at her and mouths, ‘thank you’.

She nods, “Of course, it was nothing.” She says it casually, like she didn’t just spend the last three hours comforting you through labor, doing his job for him, making sure you were safe.

It was everything.

Minutes after Luke arrives, the doctor tells you it’s time to push.

You flash Luke a scared glance, but he wraps an arm around your shoulder and kissed your temple, his lips feel comforting. “You can do this.”

You sigh, because like you said, being in his arms had a way of making you feel better.

...

When her soft cries fill the air, you’re finally able to breathe again. You collapse back against your pillow, exhausted and sweaty.

Luke’s still cupping your hand in his, his much larger fingers wrapping themselves around your skin. He’s looking towards the doctor, who’s holding in his arms, your baby girl.

“Is she okay?” you ask weakly.

Luke nods. “She’s small, but she’s so beautiful.”

Because she’s premature, you’re not able to hold her right away. Instead, she’s bundled up and taken to the NICU.

“No-” you protest pathetically. “I want her with me-”

“I know,” Luke whispers. “But they gotta keep her warm. They’re gonna put her in an isolette. They said we can visit as soon as you’re ready.”

Without hesitating, you attempt to sit up in bed. “I’m ready,” you declare weakly.

Luke’s hand pushes against your shoulder lightly in protest. “No, baby. You need rest-”

You found yourself growing angrier and angrier. You wanted to see your baby- wanted to hold her. But your body betrays you. You’re just so exhausted that you can’t even fight against him. Instead, you fall back against the pillow and huff out a choppy, frustrated sob.

“I know,” he says. He sits on the edge of your bed and reaches his hand out to brush some of the loose strands of hair away from your face. He leans forward and presses his lips to your sweaty forehead. “You did so good.” He whispers against your skin. “So, so good.”

You close your eyes against his touch, letting it wash over you.

“How small is she?” you ask when he finally breaks away.

Luke’s lips pressed together in a thin line and he didn't answer immediately. After a moment he sighs. “She’s small.”

“She’s gonna be okay though, right?” You look to Luke for all the answers. And he wants to give them to you. He wants to give everything to you.

He nods. “She’s gonna be okay. She’s a fighter, like her mom.”

…

Your daughter has to stay in the NICU for two, agonizingly long weeks. After a couple of days, you start to get some energy back. But seeing her in that box, and not being able to hold your baby when you wanted was taking its toll emotionally.

You and Luke stayed at the hospital for the entirety of the two weeks, never wanting to leave her alone.

It was painful and hard and exhausting, but together, it almost seemed bearable.

The team visited in shifts. Garcia arrived first with a giant bundle of pink balloons. Spencer and JJ brought magazines and books to keep you busy. Tara has a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Matt and Kristy brought you clothes to change into. Rossi and Emily brought various dishes for the two of you to eat. By the end of your two weeks, you felt incredibly grateful for your BAU family.

On the day that you and Luke were finally given the okay to take your daughter home, you found your nerves inching their way back into the forefront of your mind. It was an absolute relief that your premature daughter turned out to be healthy and safe and as beautiful as ever. But you thought about the unfinished room at home and your stomach twisted into knots.

“Where are we gonna put her?” you asked, imagining the crib you’d bought and never put together.

“I’ll put it together when we get home,” Luke assures you. “Can’t be that hard.”

You nodded, pushing the thought away. It didn’t matter. Not when you had this miracle of a baby in your arms.

When Luke pulled the car into the driveway of your house, you both stared at your home, hesitating before getting out of the car, as if it was just now hitting you how much everything was about to change.

Luke gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Ready?” he asked.

You nod, everything was changing for the better. “Ready.”

You keep her cradled to your chest as you make your way through your home. The first order of business for Luke was to put together the crib, so your daughter would at least have a place to sleep.

You’d worry about the rest later.

But when you climb the stairs, you’re startled to see Garcia standing in your hallway, a cheeky grin on her face.

“Pen, hi,” you smile. You’d given her a key to take care of Roxy and water your plants while you were away at the hospital, you assume that was what she was here for.

“Hi,” she smiles wide. “Oh my goodness, is that my little bundle of joy! Let me see!”

You pass Penelope your daughter, watching adoringly as the two interact.

“Is someone else here?” Luke asks, peering down the hall when he hears voices.

Garcia nods, her signature, ear to ear smile spreading across her face. “Yeah, actually we have a surprise for you guys.” She passes your daughter back to you before turning.

“Who’s ‘we’?” Luke asks skeptically.

“Oh, just shut up and follow me,” she says. Her heels click as she walks down the hall towards the bedrooms.

When you turn the corner into your daughter's room, you can’t help but let out a loud gasp. Your jaw practically falls to the floor, surprised to see the entire team piled inside.

Two walls of the room were painted a beautiful shade of pink, while the other two were a soft gray. There were various decoratives hanging on the walls, tying everything together perfectly. There were also numerous shelves filled with an assortment of stuffed animals, toys, and books. And in the corner stood the hardwood crib that Luke and you had bought, completely put together and accented with a beautiful mobile hanging above it.

“Oh my god,” Luke gawks, clearly just as surprised as you.

“You guys-” you start, but you before you can finish your sentence you start to cry. “You guys did all this?”

The smiling faces of the rest of your team answer your question.

“How?” Is all you can manage to say.

“Well, I picked out the colors and the decor,” Garcia says, like it’s obvious. “Emily and Tara both helped paint.”

“And I've put my fair share of cribs together,” Matt chuckles, patting the edge of the darkwood. “It took no time at all.”

“JJ and Spencer got together the books and the stuffed animals,” Garcia motions towards the corner of toys.

“And I supervised,” Rossi smirked, making everyone laugh.

“Guys, this is too much.” Luke shakes his head in disbelief before exhaling and saying sincerely, “thank you.”

You nod in agreement. “This is… amazing. This is more than I could have ever dreamed of. I love it. She’s gonna love it,” you motion towards your now sleeping baby, mouth open and drooling on your chest.

The team knows how exhausted you and Luke are from being at the hospital for the past two weeks, so they don’t stay long. Slowly, they begin filing out of your house, offering both you and the new BAU baby with hugs and kisses goodbye.

Garcia’s the last to leave as she gathers her coat from your entryway chair.

“Pen, I know this was your idea,” you mumble. “You didn’t have to do all this. Thank you.”

She shakes her head, her eyes rolling as she hugs you gently. When she pulls away, she smirks, “If you thought I was going to let my Goddaughter come home to an unfinished room, you are underestimating how much I am going to spoil her.”

With that, she's out the door, leaving you and Luke and your newborn baby alone in the house for the first time as a family of three. Luke wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his side securely. You sigh, all of your anxiety and fears melting away. Being in his arms had a way of making you feel better.

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gillian-greenwood · 3 years

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My initial thoughts and theories on the upcoming series of Line Of Duty.

Okay so this introduction isn't the one I initially wrote, what started as a quick summary of my thoughts after seeing the trailer and easter eggs turned into hours of my brain going into the depths of Line of Duty madness. We are under a week to go until series 6 finally hits our screens and there has been so much more teased already with interviews with the cast and so on. So, here cometh an essay of me turning into Charlie from It's always Sunny in Philadelphia.

Before I go into each point, I've tried to split my thoughts into different sections as there are more significant things that I think will feature in Series 6. These are all what I personally think will happen or likely scenarios if I'm undecided - I've listened, watched and read plenty of other theories too and I've really been enjoying it. With a show such as this, we do go totally crazy! I did see something mere moments ago where Martin stated that he's seen some 'spot on' theories - 1) it makes me excited to hear the cast are reading what we think and 2) I've more than likely read what's going to happen but I don't know it at this point - that's kinda insane!

So, I'm now going to get into the main points and then will address smaller things later on. For those of you who read all my rambles and thoughts, I really appreciate it: hopefully then I'm not completely talking to myself. I could be right, I could be wrong in these. But that's part and parcel of theorising. I've seen some great theories and seen some crazy theories but I really appreciate anyone who has taken time to share them. I mean we've got to have the outrageous and completely nutty theories, we need a good giggle!

So here we go...

Who is the fourth “dot”?

The one question that has been firmly on all our minds over these past couple of years has been whom is the fourth person pulling all the strings for organised crime? We know H isn’t a singular person but a code name for multiple people. According to Dot’s dying declaration, there are four dots, or four caddies - however you want to call it. I'm definitely sick of the whole who's H question (hence referring to it as the fourth dot) as it has been established that H isn't just a person - but so many are still completely attached to the idea of H and I think it's because that whole plotline wasn't completely rounded off or people weren't satisfied with the revelation so have become quite obsessed with it. I’ve felt a bit strange about the whole revelation since series 5 aired in 2019 though - I felt it was a huge stretch Steve recognising the Morse code from one still frame and coming to the conclusion he shares with Ted - that Dot was trying to communicate in Morse Code - I’m going to elaborate more on the declaration further on.

But back to the main question before we trail off too far! We have several possibilities. Off the bat, I can’t see it being any of the main three at all. Already, Steve has been accused of being “the caddy” and Ted has been accused of being “H” (Which in fairness has transpired to be the same thing) - Kate on the other hand has not yet come under suspicion of being bent and involved with organised crime. The trailer has cleverly hinted that it may well be Kate’s turn at being on the other side of the table. But, it’s being too obvious - creating discussion - very similar to what happened with Ted. I know a lot of people have suspicion over Kate and have done for a long while and I can see why - I just can’t see it concluding that she's the definition of corrupt - she's not completely squeaky clean but I don't think she's been a mastermind in all of this. It would be a very shocking twist but it wouldn’t make loads of sense to me with other things that's happened in the show. I do feel though Kate deserves a whole section to herself so I'll definitely go over all that further on. Main three aside - we have three other favourable suspects in my eyes.

Firstly, PCC Rohan Sindhwani was introduced in series 5 - dedicated to exposing corruption amongst the police force, running on a platform of transparency and working alongside DCC Andrea Wise. We don’t see much of him however his one direct link to organised crime is Gill Biggeloe - his senior legal counsel who was exposed as being one of the corrupt members of the police force. When things continued to go “pear shaped” with Operation Pear Tree - his mantra of complete transparency meant that he’d have to highlight the lack of progress - however rightfully so he’s been advised to suppress the truth and Gill very conveniently stresses that he needs to retain public confidence - and that having a “non-exclusive relationship with the truth” is part of the role of the PCC. As series 5 wraps up, he looks uneasy about the conclusions of Operation Pear Tree that were shared with the public - that there was no links to corruption and organised crime - which were of course completely against his own personal principles. During series 5 he hasn’t really displayed any tendencies of being bent, quite frankly the complete opposite. Although that's not to say he isn't dodgy. The trailer for series 6 has cleverly been cut together and tried to make him appear suspicious. However, I think it’s extremely unlikely that it’ll be him - he’s far too new of a character and has supposed strong ambitions to cut out all the rotten apples within the ranks. Gill could have easily sent him astray but I'm just not buying him being involved with organised crime at all. So I’m happily ruling him out.

Next we have the newly promoted DSU Ian Buckells. Having first appeared all the way back in the beginning of series 1 as the SIO on the Jackie Laverty case, appointed by Derek Hilton - he was a bit of a verruca on TO20’s foot - therefore being made to feel unwelcome by DCI Tony Gates who he replaced - no surprise there. As the first series progresses - there’s not much reason to think of him as bent, he just looks like a detective lacking passion and just turns up to do what he has to do. There are little details though that become apparent when re-watching. He has a connection first and foremost to Derek Hilton having been appointed by him personally but even at this point, there wasn’t reason to suspect Hilton either - therefore plays off as a totally innocent matter. Next, after DC Kate Fleming interviews a young Ryan Pilkington, he turns up flustered and very disgruntled that Kate has proceeded to interview him - especially after it transpires she was an undercover officer from Anti-Corruption. On early viewing - it's easy to put that down to the fact Kate had gotten there first and because it transpired she was an UCO. But we never see what went on in the respective interview apart from Ryan asking for a Big Mac. We last see Buckells allowing Dot to talk to Tommy Hunter after he’s arrested - and we all know how that turned out. But, it does appear that Buckells hasn't got a clue what's going on, he just shrugs and gives that whole yeah no skin off my nose approach, displaying quite a laid-back and care free attitude still. Buckells reappears in series 4 as the replacement SIO on Operation Trap Door after DCI Roz Huntley is removed from the case, again appointed by Derek Hilton and coincidentally where Kate is again undercover. No surprise Kate looks worried as they'd already crossed paths at TO20. Hastings and Arnott quite rightly confront Buckells and instruct him to keep Fleming's true identity secret and if her cover was compromised, everyone would know who to blame. When her cover is initially blown, the first and foremost conclusion was Buckells had not listened to strict instructions given. However, after details of Kate's personal life were leaked also, Kate didn't feel like the leak had come from Buckells as it was unlikely he knew anything regarding that. And, when confronted, Buckells concluded spitefully that UCO's have a shelf life therefore easily being recognisable after time. This is the last we see of him. The theory that Buckells could be the fourth dot has certainly become more spoken about recently. He's been featured in the show since the beginning albeit for two of the series, and will be appearing in series 6 too, part of Hillside Lane nick. The fact he's quite an unpopular and quieter member of the force could hide him in plain sight to being bent. In black and white, the idea of Buckells ordering hits and pulling strings for some of the most dangerous criminals is kind of hilarious. But, evidently there are little details scattered during his stints on the show that have got people talking. I do feel Jed has always known from the start who's bent and who isn't or has at least had the basics thought out - I've never seen a writer with such sharp continuity, there are plenty of writers and creators that should really take note! But, moving on from my very slight tangent - do I think Buckells is the fourth dot? Okay, I've changed my mind on this numerous times but since watching the trailer, I'm more cemented on no. I think there could be some dodgy stuff going on with Buckells, he's ascended up the ranks quite quickly, even if he isn't the sharpest tool in the shed at times. We often say it's always the quiet ones. And he's had connections to Hilton but I'd be very surprised if he's been calling the shots. His whole demeanour could have been a farce from the off but I think we have more chance of floating up the lagan in a bubble. I mean he looked like he'd been caught robbing an orchard when he was confronted by Ted and Steve. I think he'll pose an interesting asset to the new series but I

don't think he'll be the main guy.

The third person is the new Chief Constable Philip Osborne. In series 1, he was the Chief Inspector for the Counter Terrorism Unit where Steve was involved in the wrongful killing of Karim Ali. He demanded that the team lie about the incident so the killing was justified however Steve refused and was ultimately removed from the unit and subsequently assigned to AC12. He does crop again as the series progresses, seemingly having a close relationship with Hilton (they all seem to be close to Hilton) and after DCI Tony Gates diverts the motive behind the murders on the Borogrove estate being linked to terrorism and not drug dealing. He's last seen at the inquest into the death of Karim Ali which led to no prosecutions for any of the officers involved. It has since been revealed he's the new Chief Constable of Central Police as of Series 6 and I'm sure he's bound to appear. Whilst not heavily featured over the show's run, I'm feeling it likely for him to be the fourth dot. Just like Buckells, he's had direct connection to Hilton and definitely appeared to have at least a professional friendship. He was quick to order a cover up into a wrongful shooting. And was very willing to help with the possible terrorism links with the incidents on the Borogrove Estate which were bogus. Whilst off-screen he's worked his way up to the top. Ted remarks in the trailer "A bare faced liar, promoted to our highest office!" - and whilst it alludes to him talking about Sindhwani - I think that's going to be way too obvious. I think he's either talking to or talking about Osborne. Of course Ted was very supportive of Steve during the inquest in series 1 and was definitely not impressed by Osborne's actions and wouldn't be pleased with him being the CC. Also, the show would ultimately be going full circle to the beginning again and I really like the idea of that happening. So much of series 1 has been significant later on. We've not had much screen time with Osborne but I think he's my favourite to be the fourth dot. He certainly fits the bill of being corrupt and has plausible connections. There's a scene with Osborne, Hilton and Dot in series 1 and I certainly love the idea of three of the most corrupt officers being thrown right in our faces right at the beginning and us all being none the wiser. I'd considered him before but after the trailer and easter eggs, it's looking far more likely. Of course no one knew that the show would have become the roaring success it has back in series 1 however I am confident Jed had foundations in place and possible scenarios as to where the show would go.

In conclusion, there are plenty of possibilities of who this mysterious fourth dot is, but I'm happy with my conclusion of Osborne. Hopefully after the seven episodes I can either be impressed with my deductions or cringe as to why I ever came to such conclusions!

Dot Cottan's Dying Declaration

Series 3 concluded with the death of DI Matthew Cottan whom AC12 finally learned was the real caddy and not DS Steve Arnott who Dot had tried to pin it on. His explosive exit is mine and many people's favourite series finale. We only saw a glance of his declaration that DC Kate Fleming took - that then led to the conviction of Patrick Fairbank. It's not until series 4 however where PC Maneet Bindra is blackmailed to harvest this declaration and we as viewers finally get to view more - having been recorded on a fellow officers body-cam. Kate tries to get Dot to reveal the top dog by asking him "blink twice for the first letter of his name" - we all know he blinks at H however the medics intervene before Kate can get him to finish. This was of course the first encounter with "H". We revisit Dot's dying declaration in series 5 during Ted's questioning by AC3 - again we're shown the same part, slightly extended to showcase the morse code sequence, however, Kate's dialogue is different - now saying "right, blink with the first two letters of his name." I personally never noticed this until I saw others discussing it and apparently they differed in the scripts too so was a deliberate move by Jed. I think this will be picked up in some regard and Kate herself will come under fire for it. I believe the body-cam footage was actually shot along with series 4 and Craig Parkinson was invited back for the scenes which subsequently featured again in series 5 too - and I'm feeling confident they shot both versions as Jed would have likely had future plots planned out. Like series 1-3 had some kind of arc, I think 4-6 is the exact same and a lot of things will be rounded off. I imagine it will be picked up that there are two versions of the declaration. I know there are very mixed feelings on this subject but knowing the way Jed works, the differences will be significant. I will be very shocked and disappointed if this is not addressed but seeing how we left the previous series with more questions thanks to the declaration, it surely has to feature again. The question of why it was changed? I think it was more than likely doctored by Hilton to try and incriminate Hastings for being H - blinking for the first two letters, H being first, Kate trying to start the sequence again but being cut off by medics, what's first? A! Hilton replaced the original with the edited version which was able to be accessed by the necessary personnel however I'm sure the original still exists somewhere, possibly for leverage? But how could he have changed the dialogue and make it sound convincing? It's farfetched and I mean I'm sure anything's possible but the whole Morse Code thing was also very farfetched too so I'm at that point of my tether where that could honestly happen. Hastings of course has seen both versions and Kate having been the one taking the declaration surely would have noticed but there is no indication that he's noticed a difference nor Kate. And after the meeting he shared with Hilton in series 4, I'm sure that was the trigger of him editing it. Or Kate could have edited herself which a lot of fans have suggested but the only was she'd have access surely is if she was bent - this is a really hard one because there's a lot of theories! Mine is a wild and very patchy theory but I just can't see them not addressing the fact that they were different. Again I'll cover a bit more about Kate's possible involvement in her own section.

And mentioning the Morse code aspect of the declaration - anyone I've spoken to personally about it were left feeling conflicted with the whole idea. Is it going to be a total red-herring and Steve has clearly been barking up the wrong tree? No doubt there is still someone who's very corrupt within the force but I wouldn't have left the series hanging on that revelation if it were to turn out to have no meaning. Also, there were many easier ways of indicating the number four - but then again Dot was pretty much dead at this point so wasn't exactly able to function properly, haha!

To summarise I think we'll see the declaration again and both versions will be flagged and we'll find out why. If we're thinking about series 4, 5 and 6 having an arc, it is a very important aspect to be answered and concluded. I'm rather excited about them going into this again. I can see Hilton having doctored the footage but Kate will come under fire for it. Or maybe Kate did it herself, but why? What has she got to gain, unless she's bent, or been blackmailed? This is going to be a headache, I can sense it now! Imagine if we got the answers from Dot himself... nah, he's dead.

DCI Joanne Davidson

Kelly MacDonald has taken over the lead guest role baton and it's very exciting! We have finally seen more than a glimpse of her character in the trailer and teaser. All we know thus far is she is the DCI at Hillside Lane Station and that she'll be coming under scrutiny for her handling of the Gail Vella murder case. Kate appears to be on her team (as herself or undercover is currently a mystery) and alongside we have DSU Buckells, PS Farida Jatri and newcomer DS Lomax (Played by Perry Fitzpatrick). Honestly one of the first questions that plagued on my mind was will she survive? Four out of the five prior lead guest stars have met a grizzly end. I mean let's face it Roz didn't exactly escape unscathed either with only one hand left. It's hard to judge before the series starts on the guest lead. We were led up the wrong path last series with Stephen Graham. I know this next series will be jam-packed and the most insane yet so I'm expecting a lot from Kelly's character! I think she's going to be the most complex of the leads and I think we'll be often changing our minds about her - from what we've seen she seems a promising and good copper, but PS Jatri has stated in the trailer 'you don't know what's she's capable of,' very exciting! I'm looking forward to her being interrogated, she'll knock those scenes out of the park! It's hard to put predictions out there when there's not a lot to go on but I'm sure I'll have more solid theories once the series has started!

Have Kate and Steve really left AC12?

We've been accustom to a couple of teasers. Steve talking to his ex Nicola Rogerson about feeling that his road with anti-corruption is at an end and looking likely to be joining her team. Maybe he does feel this way because he still hasn't got his promotion!!! Some people have suggested he might have instead been demoted, ouch! Then Kate out with Joanne and her team, referring to her as 'boss'. I'm sure Kate's undercover but perhaps maintaining the farce that she's moved on from AC12. As Ian Buckells stated, UCO's have a shelf-life and I'm sure she'd be recognised by most forces now, especially with the awards she's won. Then again she could just be plainly undercover - what surnames beginning with F hasn't she used? Haha! We haven't seen Steve undercover in the same way as Kate, he was technically undercover when being all pally with Lindsay Denton but it would be cool to see him as a full blown UCO and I don't think he'd be suspected. But why would Steve be going undercover? That's what I'd be unsure on. Again, plenty of questions with not many answers. AC12 has come under fire plenty of times so it's likely it's in favour of being dissolved, especially with an easter egg of CC Osborne highlighting AC12 as a cause of concern, especially with Ted running the ranks still. Or is it a massive twist that Kate has really left and Steve is following suit? I remember when they first started filming in early 2020 there was a tweet shared with a picture of Martin, Adrian and Jed - captioned "But where's Kate?" - of course we were all quick to speculate that she was undercover but from the information we now have, she may in fact have moved on. We know she has rekindled her marriage but things still looked rocky - maybe she has left to save her marriage by working in a department where she's going to be a 'better mum and wife.' (Come on her husband was a total dick.) However, I do like the idea of the fact that she's undercover, but only Ted knows, so even Steve believes her AC12 days are over - and that could even be ammunition for him to leave as he's got itchy feet not having Kate as his working partner anymore - but as I said maybe Steve is moving on because there's no promotion or even a demotion. (Oh I love the joking about his poor promotion that got lost in the post). But, from other behind the scenes snippets we've seen also, our favourite trio look to be working together within AC12, so whatever happens, they'll be all back in their rightful places eventually. To add, Adrian said on Graham Norton the first episode starts in an unexpected place with a lot for us to get our heads around - so I imagine things are going to appear very different first thing and our favourites being absent is looking highly likely! Weighing up the options, I am leaning towards Kate being secretly undercover whilst everyone believes she's in fact moved on. I'm guessing Steve will be going undercover as well, I don't feel he'd leave AC12 on his own accord with so much still unsolved without absolute good reason - unless of course, no promotion (I'll stop now).

Has Steve Arnott FINALLY got his promotion?

(Sorry I'm not stopping) A major running joke now - poor Steve has remained a DS throughout the show. Whilst Kate progressed from DC to DI between series 3 and 5. Series 4 featured both Steve and Kate eager to progress to Detective Inspector. Ted favoured Steve due to 'experience' - leaving Kate extremely disheartened. Fair enough though, Steve had a lot more years under his belt at the Sergeant level. However Ted had been accused of being sexist and I think that made him uncomfortable. But firstly, Steve found himself in another situation half way through series 4 - being attacked with a baseball bat and chucked down some stairs - leaving him unable to walk and facing the prospect of never walking again. This of course would put any ambitions on hold and something Ted would have to consider too. It's not really touched upon in the rest of the series. When we return in series 5, we quickly learn that Kate is now a DI. More than likely due to Steve's accident but could also be to tick boxes too - Gill Biggeloe does make a point of highlighting that Ted had promoted a woman and joked that would exactly be what a sexist would do. There doesn't appear to be any hostility between Kate and Steve throughout series 5 in regards to this but I do side with Kate on the fact he kept quiet about Corbett being the CHIS because she was an inspector - not the only reason but one of them. Then again, Steve has a tendency to get himself in situations so it's no surprise. Moving forward to the golden question, I think we've all noticed that Steve's epaulettes have been conveniently hidden in promos - however eagle-eyed fans have concluded that it looks like he does in fact have the inspector epaulettes in the trailer. About time! The circumstances around his promotion are hard to guess though. Will he get promoted in the middle of the series - it deserves all the fuss after all right? Or will he be replacing Kate because she's 'moved on' - who knows but I'm feeling confident we'll wrap up series six with Detective Inspector Steve Arnott. Imagine if Jed was teasing us and he doesn't get promoted or has in fact been demoted to DC - it's safe to say we'll all be unhappy haha!

Oh boy, what's occurring with Kate?

Over the past five series, Kate Fleming has been awfully lucky and escaped the main brutal drama - usually Steve being handed it. All she's really endured is her cover being blown on undercover operations, having an affair with her friend Jayne's husband who turned out to be as dodgy as Jayne and ultimately being kicked out of the family home as a result and losing custody of her son - and getting a good kick in the gut from Lindsay Denton. In comparison, not as brutal to almost getting a finger amputated and being chucked down some stairs along with numerous failed relationships. As I mentioned before, Steve and Ted have been accused of being bent - got to be Kate's turn now right? Definitely a bookies favourite of being 'H' (Come on folks, we know H isn't a person anymore.) or being the fourth person. I'm sure anyone who follows my blog can see who my favourite is and how I'll be very devastated if she turns out to be corrupt. But I'm feeling quite sure that she'll finally be the other side of the table officially (being questioned in series 1 and 3 doesn't count in my books as she was undercover). We've already had a teaser of herself and Joanne being surrounded by armed police - and Steve and Ted (Is this the first time Steve's seen her in a while? I'm leaning towards this being the case), looking terrified and having a gun on her - so yes - we do already know there will be Kate drama at this point. Line of Duty is always full of surprises. A big twist has been teased in episode 4 - will Kate be involved? I reckon it's likely. We've seen a police car appear to fly off road into water - and I'm pretty sure Kate will be in that car! Out of the trio - we definitely know the least about Kate. All we really know is that she trained at Ryton, is married with a son and not much else. She explained to Ryan her parents split when she was young and was out of the house a lot cos of this, not caring what she got up to. Eagle eyed fans would also know her full name is Katherine Laura and her maiden name was Donnelly (Series 2 whilst Denton was looking at her file). It would be interesting to learn more about her background as we really don't know much! At the end of series 5 we see her arrive home late to an empty house - her husband and son having gone to the pictures as planned - I do think they were certainly alluding to the next series (With Steve also but I'll get to that) - we'll see more of her personal side. You know I wouldn't be surprised if she was separated again.

And because we know so little, has she been dodgy from the off and we haven't known? Someone shared a really interesting theory on the basis of what she shared with Ryan, (featured on the shrine of duty podcast) that in her teens, someone may have attempted to recruit her just like Dot was but she saw through it, knowing it would lead to something that it would be best to stay clear of. Was she a troublemaker in her teens? Up to all sorts of anti-social behaviour? I love this idea and can totally see it! We know Steve's story of ending up in AC12 and we know Ted's background in the Royal Ulster Constabulary. But we don't know much about Kate's circumstances of joining the force or even AC12 - I would love to find out more about that!

Could her husband be dodgy? We don't know much about him at all. That would be an interesting twist. There's definitely still hostility there and I was surprised they got back together.

Especially from series 5, a lot more people have leant towards Kate being bent, being the fourth dot, etc. I've already said I can't see her being bent, or not in the same terms as Dot for example. Some people believe Dot took the bullet because she was in on stuff, but pulling the caddy investigation in on Dot wouldn't make much sense then. That all seemed to me she was doing the right thing and wanting the appropriate persons brought to justice. However a lot of her decisions in series 5 have come under fire from fans. For example not taking a declaration from Hargreaves, not addressing Ted's unlawful Fahreinheit order until after the events played out to name a couple. Even still, all her decisions to me seemed to warrant doing good and going after whoever it was being bent. I mean she had been happy to go after both Steve and Ted but I always saw that because she wanted the bent coppers getting their comeuppance - and in both instances, instead discovered other people were in fact the culprits and did what she could to put the investigations in the right direction. I mean yes she's happy to pin stuff on anyone but herself but that doesn't mean she's dodgy, just that she wants to get the job done - I don't think anyone would lead an investigation straight for themselves, that's just silly!

Has she edited Dot's declaration? I think the only two logical people are either Kate herself or Hilton as I've previously discussed. We'll see her come under fire for some things for sure and that would be one of them!

I've never been a huge fan of any of the main three being corrupt - I think any copper can do things that could be seen as bent, but that's what happens when you have the power of the law. All three have made questionable decisions. I don't think it's possible to be squeaky clean as anyone can make decisions that lead to consequences.

To summarise, I think Kate will be accused of being bent, I think she's going to have a lot of drama coming her way. I think she's going to get in a lot of bother. But I don't think she's going to be what we'd call bent. I think we'll learn things we won't expect about her, especially regarding her personal life. What I know for sure it's going to be exciting, thrilling, action-packed - and I cannot wait to see Kate's prime time to shine.

Steve and a painkiller addiction?

In the series 5 'wrap-up' - we see Steve alone in his flat taking medication - clearly for his back. Some fans looked into that sequence as foreshadowing to a possible pain-killer addiction? It would be an interesting turn for his character. There was a point where he wasn't sure if he was going to walk again and has clearly been dosed up on painkillers since the incident. One of the easter eggs that's been shared is of his prescription - and I'm certain he's still on the medication when we resume - one of the medications he's taking has a warning of causing addiction. Addiction in drama is usually focused on illegal drugs - but not often with prescribed medications. I don't think Jed would have had a sequence focused on Steve's medication if it weren't to be significant. He's clearly still coming to terms with his injury and its affected him in the bedroom too - I won't be surprised if poor Steve is still having issues - maybe that's why he turned down a drink with Nicola and not because he was trying to be professional. Maybe it's why he's leaving AC12. He came back to work on his own decision, I don't think a professional would have advised his return to work so early and now that's catching up to him. We've seen a lot of physical stunts upcoming, and Steve on the front-line with a firearm. I won't be surprised if his medication causes issues or he actually ends up causing more damage to his back, especially because he appears to be in a white van and we know there is a stunt involving a white van! I think his injuries will seriously catch up to him!

Returning characters?

We've had the surprise of Nicola Rogerson reappearing for the first time since series 2 (mentioned in series 3). Most of the time surprise returns are kept under wraps until transmission. Lindsay Denton's return in series 3 probably being one of the biggest and most notable cases. The trailer also revealed PC Farida Jatri will be appearing in series 6, first appearing as an officer on Roz Huntley's team at Polk Avenue. I think we all like to check IMDb to see if anything has been spilled, Steph Corbett has appeared on the list and whilst that's actually plausible seeing Ted looked as if he were giving her the missing 50k, IMDb has often had incorrect cast listings on purpose. I'm pretty confident Philip Osborne will be returning. I imagine we will see Sam Railston again too. I would love Nigel Morton and his cane to return, he's got off lightly to say the least, and he definitely knows what to and not to get involved in. And with a video from Martin's instagram, we've seen both Anna Maxwell Martin and Gregory Piper lurking so I'm happy to assume DCS Carmichael and Ryan Pilkington will be back for sure. I believe the two shady prison officers who made Lindsay Denton a cup of tea look likely to reappear, that will be interesting! With Jed, anyone who isn't dead could return... Then again remember when he posted that picture of Stephen and Craig and people went nuts thinking Dot was really alive? And, there's been a lot of teasing as to who could crop up. Lindsay Denton's name has been floating around the past couple of days thanks to Jed, she's quite frankly dead but will we get a flashback or some new footage? I think we will all go nuts if Keeley Hawes had sneakily returned to film new stuff, especially with her very hectic schedule, that woman hasn't stopped. Anything's possible at this point. We can't always trust everything but that's part of the fun of it!

A new character we haven't seen but has been mentioned!

I'll briefly touch on this. It has been alluded a character will pop up that has been mentioned in passing but never been seen before. Popular theories include somebody off Danny Waldron's list (Plausible after Fairbank was see in the trailer again) or one of the officers off the H board. I am personally leaning towards Dot Cottan's ex missus turning up. She was mentioned to Kate by Dot, and we know she works in forensics, a very convenient place to work if things need tampering with. I just think she'd be the most interesting person to turn up after all this time, mentioned once and never again - it's surprising seeing Dot turned out to be bent and she was working in the force too...

What next with Ted?

Ted did go through a lot at the end of series 5. Being accused of being H, murdering John Corbett, Anne-Marie McGillis and being bribed with 50k (Sorry 100k but shh they don't need to know that). Ted was cleared on all charges but has been given a final written warning. AC12 is definitely going to be under the watchful eye of the higher ups as alluded too in easter eggs. We've seen Ted very distressed in a lift and him getting awfully flustered at the Police Headquarters. I don't think his troubles are going to be over any time soon. The case of the other 50k could possibly come up again, seeing Mark Moffatt was sure to stress it was 100k. We don't know what happened between him and Steph, and with her supposedly reappearing - it's likely it'll be revisited. Will his money troubles be any better? Is he finally going to be out of the Edge Park Hotel with the dodgy toilet? Has he finally moved on from Roisin? I saw a suggestion from someone somewhere (can't remember who or where) that Roisin was now involved with someone who may be the corrupt officer, god could you imagine if her new fella turned out to be Osborne? What a way to really kick Ted whilst he's already down. There were also a couple of other things too that were left unanswered. Why did Ted REALLY dispose of his laptop (come on Ted, no one disposes their laptop for watching naughty things)? What did Ted say to Lee Banks? I don't think we'll ever learn the latter and that'll be down to audience interpretation but the laptop definitely needs to be addressed again. Is Ted actually dodgy? He ain't H put it that way but he's made some questionable decisions. Right now I want to know what's got him upset in the lift! And will Ted reach the end of his journey at AC12?! I really hope not but he's skating on thin ice being on a final warning, and the higher ups don't have a lot of trust to say the least.

Ryan in the police force.

At the end of series 5, Ryan has begun his police training. We've been told roughly 18 months have passed between the two series so I reckon if all's gone well (It has, of course it has) - he'll be a police officer somewhere within central police, being naughty. As already mentioned, we have seen Gregory Piper behind the scenes - so we'll be seeing Ryan again, which was inevitable really. It's hard to guess where he'll turn up but more than likely away from the trio. However I'm looking forward to Steve coming face to face with him again. He's managed to lie-low and not be detected by the team - as far as they're aware, most if not all of the OCG has been neutralised. He did a pretty good job staying out of the way with all the drama that happened. In the trailer, I did notice Ryan's picture on the infamous board - so he's definitely going to be detected - but how, by who and when? I'm looking forward to seeing how it all unravels but I'm sure it's going to be explosive.

Is Dot Cottan alive in witness protection?

Did he really die? Well... Nahhh you thought I was really going to talk about this? I love Dot, he's one of my favourite characters and I do deep down think it would be awesome for him to be alive somewhere. But realistically I do think it would be a big 'cop out'. He's Dot Cottan, not Dirty Den... Yeah yeah we never saw a mention of a funeral and the camera panned out before he officially died but yeah I think he looked pretty screwed, don't you? I will admit that I was low-key hoping that picture of the geezer leaving those flats was Dot... I do miss all the series 5 speculation. But yeah, Dot Cottan is definitely dead.

My overall hopes for Series 6.

I'm definitely not the only one who's hoping six won't be the last series. It has now been revealed that Jed 'doesn't know' and suggesting that everything that needs answering will be this series. Just like in series 3. Series 3 was the best series so far and I'm hoping series 6 will live up to that, and the cast have certainly teased that it will. It feels weird knowing so much could be wrapped up in seven weeks. I'm going to make the most of this series seeing a seventh might not be on the cards. I trust Jed and if the show comes to a natural conclusion after this then needs must. I think we'll have a better understanding if the show could go on once we have seen all of series 6! I really hope Steve finally gets his promotion and things will start to look up for him. Ted as well, he's had nothing but crap shovelled into his bubble recently. I also hope we get plenty of explosive Kate scenes which I think we definitely will. Having only seen a little of Kelly MacDonald in action so far I can't create any hopes without seeing more. Maybe she'll be the first lead guest star to survive and with all limbs in tact. As one of Scotland's finest actresses - I know that we'll be in for a real treat! I'm hoping for DCS Carmichael to have lots of scenes - I actually really love her character and hope to find out more about her. Seeing Anna sneaking in the background of one of Martin's instagram stories, no doubt she's reappearing as I mentioned before. I'm hoping for an explosive reunion with Ryan and Steve. I'm excited for all the Tedisms. I'm looking forward to bad-ass queen Kate. Oh and I can't wait to hear our favourite beeeeeeeeepppppp - interrogation scenes are really the best. I'm feeling like this will be the greatest and most explosive series yet.

Oh boy, this has taken up a lot of my time and I'm glad I didn't finish until some more information had come to light. I want to thank anyone who read all of this long ass post. I want to thank a couple of my absolute favourite blogs for giving me a push to finish and share this. I know I've probably missed some stuff but what was going to be quick thing turned into hours. These theories could be correct, could be completely wrong! But I'm looking forward to re-reading this after everything's happened. I'm not sure whether I'll share thoughts after every episode yet but if my mind is whirring enough I'm sure I'll conjure up something! It's almost 4am and I'm glad to be done with this! I'll be curious to know what you think! I apologise if I have made any mistakes in this but I've gone through and think all information is correct, if not, Ted will be issuing me with a Reg 15 quicker than you can say houl yer whisht!

Much love and gearing up for Sunday!

#line of duty #series 6 #ted hastings #adrian dunbar #steve arnott #martin compston #kate fleming #vicky mcclure #this turned out to be long didn't it #i've gone crazy #but thank you for reading it all #bbc #jed mercurio #line of duty theories #kelly macdonald #joanne davidson #tedisms #i didnt float up the lagan in a bubble #houl yer whisht

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mrvdocks · 4 years

Text

Is This Love?

- It had to be that fateful day that you two stumbled into his spree. The day that would mentally fuck with you forever. - Spree AU

♫ - The thinking you’re the better man The danger I don't I understand

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Blood, language, some attraction to a serial murderer, standard final girl

pic credit: @pinkresources

You don’t know where everything went wrong. Things just went downhill so fast that you barely had a chance to even blink.

Yet here you were, covered in who you thought was your best friend’s blood, a giddy Kurt, and a million people watching.

This couldn’t be the same sweet unassuming guy you’d met before, right?

Everything about him was off now. His tone, his style, his demeanor. Maybe you chose not to see the undertones of insanity to him. Because you were just as alone as he was in the end.

Looking back now, he was definitely stalking his prey. Whether that was you or her, whoever gave him the most leverage and made him a household name. A name to either be feared or admired.

It had to be that fateful day that you two stumbled into his spree. The day that would mentally fuck with you forever.

It was supposed to be a normal day, just get your friend, in and out of some of her busiest and various interviews. You were her assistant, even if she tried to coin it some other term or just called you her friend, plain and simple.

Your pairing made you feel somewhat self conscious. Here she was, pretty, leggy, adored by fans online, the facade she had constructed for herself when in reality she was just manipulative and vindictive. This definitely wasn’t the crowd you wanted to work with, alas here you were.

“Remind me what we’re doing.” She said, eyes still completely glued to the phone.

“Variety wanted that challenge video with you.”

“Perfect, now,’ she took her eyes off of the screen and paused her typing. “Where’s the car?”

“What car?”

She rolled her eyes, “Those shitheads didn’t get me a car? How do they expect us to get there, walking?”

Sometimes you wondered how she made it this far. Probably because everyone wanted to be used by her.

“Relax, I’ll just order a ride again.” You whipped out your phone, picking a red app out of the hundreds of others that caught your eye.

“Relax? Do you know how hard it is for me? I could be in the Maldives by now but no you told me to do this stupid interview because you’re poor.”

The insult didn’t exactly sting you as much as it would’ve a year ago. As a media graduate you thought you’d be working within the big leagues, not with a prissy and bitchy vlogger who wanted everything at the drop of a hat.

Plus this interview came with some big bucks and if you could manage to nail this without fail, you could quit the very next day.

“Sorry, look, it’s just today and then tomorrow you can go out and do whatever you want.”

She whines, eyes back onto her phone and tweeting about her hardships. While the princess waited you kept an eye on passing cars, anything that would match the one on your screen.

A car pulls up in front of you both, the windows of the passenger seat rolling down to greet you.

“Kurt, right?”

He nods with a smirk, definitely inviting you in but also reminding you of someone. You make your way to the backseat, but are pushed aside as your friend takes her place in the middle of the row. You laugh nervously, glancing at Kurt as you take the passenger seat.

“What’s with all these cameras? Are you like in a reality show?” Your friend blurts out, prompting Kurt to glance at her.

“It’s just for safety. Wait are you - oh my god you are!” Kurt gushes, making the connection of the celebrity in his backseat.

Your friend flashes her pearly whites at Kurt, loving to be the center of attention.

“No way. Bobby is not gonna believe this.” He beams.

You can feel it’s almost time to dissociate in order to get through this ride.

Kurt turns his phone over to the right, capturing your friend’s image a little better. The comments pop one after the other at rapid speed. You can’t read it but you can tell by Kurt’s face whoever is commenting is in disbelief.

“My friend Bobby is obsessed with you, he always says he would make a sex tape with you.”

You cringe at the thought and at the sudden robot voice erupting from Kurt’s phone exclaiming that Julia take her top off. It doesn’t seem to faze her though, she lives for it.

“Hey has anyone told you, you look exactly like that guy from Stranger Things?” Julia laughs, You’re unsure if it’s supposed to be a jab or an actual compliment for Kurt.

Kurt’s smile drops, it’s something he got a lot as a tease from Bobby. How he looked like him but didn’t quite have his suave and lovable demeanor. If anything he was the complete opposite, pathetic.

“A bit.” He waves the thought away, and as soon as your friend begins to take pictures of herself, he begins speaking rapidly.

“If you post anything, make sure to tag me I’m KurtsWorld 96. Follow for follow.” He beams, as if this is something he normally does.

Ohhhhhh boy. This is just a twitter bot in a boy’s body isn’t it.

Your friend just giggles to herself, completely ignoring his plea for fame.

“See, I would love to do that. But my friend has to do like some background check or whatever. No hard feelings though, ‘kay?” With that she’s back to her own bubble.

It’s you who’s on the spotlight now though and you mentally curse her out for it.

“Really?” Kurt glances at you and you can read him just like all the other fans. The hopefulness in his eyes.

“I mean if you need to check out my stuff I don’t mind at all. In fact, that’s why I have all these cameras set up.”

“I thought they were for protection.”

Kurt chuckles, “That too, but I mean when stuff like this happens you have to document it, right? Gotta let everyone know what you’re doing all the time.”

The extreme level of desperation from Kurt almost scares you. You’ve seen this before, you were this before. His problem is he doesn’t have a Julia.

You nod, smiling easily.

“After all, we’re only as good as our last performance.” Kurt says suddenly.

You do a double take.

There’s a familiarity to what he says. You’ve seen or heard it somewhere before. Something only known to you in private.

Your brows furrow as you both look at each other. There’s a certain tension between you now, you get goosebumps from the way he looks at you. The feeling in the pit of your stomach confuses you.

The times he glances at you in silence just to raise his brows or to do some facial quirk to make you laugh feel pleasant.

You watch him intently, the way his fingers grip the wheel, the way his hair could use just a touch of hydration, the way the corners of his lips lift into a smirk.

Julia doesn’t notice the eye fucking at all, not surprising.

The later half of the ride consisted mostly of just Kurt talking about something he was planning and that if you two were interested he would love to have both of you back.

Julia, though always eager to have a camera shoved in her face, surprisingly declines because Kurt just doesn’t seem like he’d suit her brand. You feel the embarrassment for him and want to get out of this situation as soon as possible.

Your prayers are answered and the minute you see Kurt brake, you rush out just as your friend holds up a finger for you to wait. Kurt offers her a water bottle which she takes happily because it’s “free”. You wait but he offers you none.

She takes small sips and then crams it into her bag.

Kurt simpers, but you don’t know what exactly is in the bottle, yet.

“Thanks, Kurt.” You can’t help but meet his gaze. It’s not desperate anymore, no. It’s almost.....darker.

“My pleasure.”

You both rush into the building, Julia forgetting about him already. But he sits in your mind the entire time.

Julia cries as she doubles over in pain, her hand basically gripping yours for dear life as she coughs up blood. She had left the interview early due to a stomach ache but you’d never seen anything so severe.

“Julia, okay listen to me, we have to get you to the hospital.”

She shakes her head, hurling crimson onto your shirt and hands.

“Julia! You need help, we need to go!” You yelled adamantly.

She wasn’t like this until the car ride with Kurt.

You sprang into action, going back to your phone and putting in Kurt’s info to find where he was. The only perk about being an assistant to an influencer, is people will come when you call. And Kurt was sure to come.

You order a ride, and cover up Julia’s face which already is starting to look like something out of a zombie movie. Her face is swelling up and her lips are bleeding.

You take her by the arm and lead her down to an awaiting Kurt, joining her in the backseat.

He looks different. More rugged and somewhat cleaner, he’s changed clothes since the few hours you saw him. Even the car is different, it wasn’t his Prius.

He’s not even fazed by her sudden reaction to the water and instead, the moment you close the door he drives off in the opposite direction.

“Kurt this isn’t the way to the hospital.”

“Oh I know, I’m taking you home.”

“I don’t live this way.” You were beginning to feel the panic rise in you.

He chuckles to himself as if he just made a killer joke. “No, no, my home.”

Your eyes widened. You scan the car filled with cameras. Certainly anyone watching would call the police. You can’t help but freeze, your shaky hands trying to grip Julia as she continues to hurl uncontrollably.

You pass streets you don’t recognize and making contact with drivers is out of the question while you’re paralyzed.

Kurt pulls onto a rocky road, a house completely devoid of light staring back at you. You wish you could scream once he gets out of the car but when he opens the door to your side and helps you with Julia into the house, you’re on autopilot.

“Honestly I’m surprised she made it this long. Everyone else lasted only a few seconds.” He guffaws, completely in awe as if this was some kind of achievement.

You stare at him, in deep thought of who else he’d done this to.

“Why are you doing this? Why - why would you-” the sheer panic in your voice doesn’t seem to affect him.

He dumps Julia onto the couch mindlessly, as if he just came home from a long day of work.

“Because I love you. And I’d do anything for you. And.....I didn’t like the way she was talking to you.”

He faces you now, coming to hold your face in his hands. You don’t recoil yet but shiver at the way his oddly cold fingers feel against your warm flush face.

“How do you -”

“We’re only as good as our last performance.” He echoes from earlier.

It all clicks suddenly. The reason why he didn’t give you a bottle. The comments on her videos defending you. The anonymous messages between you two. It was him all along.

To say that the now dead body next to you while he professed his love to you was very unsettling would be an understatement. Much less it being broadcast to millions of people watching.

“If you loved me you wouldn’t be doing this,” You tried to reason, bringing his hands down to his side.

You liked Kurt. Even if you hadn’t known what his intentions were. But the messages made you feel like someone was on your side. Like he understood you. Now you weren’t sure if the past few weeks even meant anything to him or if he really was just using you to get to Julia.

“You let her walk all over you the same way I let Bobby. But not anymore! You and me, we can be bigger than they ever were.”

“Kurt you’re insane! We have to go now.”

You make a break for the front door, only to be pinned down by Kurt. You struggle but Kurt’s figure hovers over you. Your breath hitches at the sudden closeness of your faces and bodies.

“I’m sorry but I can’t let you do that.” He says grimly.

“Kurt please, I won’t tell anyone. I promise. Look we can - we can leave and go somewhere they won’t find you.”

He scoffs. “Live in anonymity? You know I can’t do that.”

You know you’ve lost the battle right then and there.

You have to appeal to his nature, his blood thirst. You’re quick on your feet because the stench of the blood on your hands is beginning to make your stomach churn.

You crane your head to the side and lean into him, pressing your lips together. He’s frozen for a second, taken aback by your sudden change of heart. He pulls back and stands, leaving you on the floor still.

He’s laughing now, almost manically.

“You love me! See? With everything you and I know, we could be a power couple!”

You stand, watching him as he celebrates prematurely.

The comments on the stream were going crazy. Most of them not believing that your friend or Bobby were dead now. A variety of sounds coming from the phone fill the room and muffle your quick breaths.

You take small strides to him slowly, keeping your eyes on the phone. “You’re right. No one can tell or make us do something we don’t want to anymore.”

He’s coming down from his high, raking his hands through his hair and muttering to himself.

“We have to clean house.” He says, rushing to Julia’s body, grabbing her feet and dragging her to the garage.

You take this moment when his back is to you to run to the door again, flipping the lock open and running as fast as you can out into the freezing air. The adrenaline fuels you. Kurt curses as he drops the body and runs after you.

He lurches forward when he’s close enough, dropping the both of you onto the rocky dirt. You scramble to get up but he takes hold of your head by your hair and brings your head down onto the ground roughly.

You’re disoriented for a moment, unable to see.

“You’re making things harder than they need to be.” He sighs, flipping you over on your back and taking you into his arms in a bridal carry back to the house.

“Please don’t kill me.” You manage out, feeling a stinging pain in your head.

He pouts. “I’m not gonna kill you. I need you.”

He sets you back down onto the pool table in the garage, going back to talk to the millions watching him and you now.

You don’t see what he types but from the looks of it he disagrees severely. “No I’m not going to kill her! She’s the Bonnie to my Clyde.”

If anything, this was going to be Romeo and Juliet. Only you weren’t dying for this.

You feel around for anything on the table with your limited view. A ball, a stick, anything. You grasp a hard triangular shape, gripping it with with the little strength and adrenaline you can muster.

He’s too distracted by what everyone’s saying to notice you behind him, rack high in the air. You yell as you bring the rack down to the nape of his neck, he goes down hard and fast but you’re quicker.

You pounce and straddle him, bringing the rack up again to gain more momentum and aim down at his face.

He’s cries out in pain, hands coming to shield his face. “What are you doing?! This isn’t how it’s supposed to be!”

“Sorry babe. Change of plans.” You grit through deep and fast breaths. You get a few more hits in before he seemingly goes limp.

Your chest heaves, trying to get back to normal as you wait with bated breath for any sign of movement from him. You make a move to climb off of him, seeing the phone thrown to the side, still documenting the entirety of what just happened.

You toss aside the rack, crawling to the phone as you read the comments. Things calling for Bobby to come out, some asking if Julia was okay, others insulting Kurt and you. One catches your attention.

Watch out!

You turn in the nick of time, avoiding Kurt’s swing of the rack. You try to crawl away but he grasps your ankle and drags you back. You manage to get a kick in with your other foot, earning you a second or two. Kurt bellows out in pain.

He persists, climbing on top of you to grab your throat firmly. The action and pressure of it is enough for you to abandon the phone and try to pry him off.

“We could’ve been great!” He yells, his bloody face painting yours. You cough roughly, trying to get some air back into your constricting lungs.

You can’t hold him off any longer, and if you don’t get any oxygen, he’ll win his twisted legacy.

Remembering the phone, you let go of his hands and feel around until you are able to grab it firmly and hit him in the eye with it. He falls back and screams in pain.

You’re on top again, taking hold of the collar of his shirt to hold him as you attack with abandon.

“We’re.” Hit.

“Only.” Kurt groans.

“As. Good.” Another dastardly good hit.

“As. Our. Last.” He sputters, choking.

“Performance.” You let a guttural yell rip from your chest as you deliver the final blow. This time he stays down.

The silence rings in your ear long enough to spur you out of the moment. You can hear sirens in the background, not long now. You glance back to your anonymous lover, your hand coming to lift the hair out of his bloody face.

Your fingers linger on his face for a second. You bring the phone to your face and laugh mirthlessly, “Fuck you all.”

You climb off of Kurt, heading to the welcoming breeze of the outside world.

You sit on the porch chair, covered head to toe in a mixture of blood, eyes fluttering shut as the sirens get louder with each second.

You smirk.

#kurt kunkle #kurt kunkle x reader #spree 2020 #spree #not smut but hey at least it's almost sort of realistic within the movie's standards #figured it was better to stick to the final girl aspect

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sons-of-the-morning-star · 4 years

Text

DISCLAIMER FOR ANY SENSITIVE READERS: This series is going to deal with heavy topics like abandonment, death, guilt, grief, and a lot of other stuff; this first chapter in particular is probably going to be pretty heavy for the same reason.

I will be writing this is present tense and will be constantly be saying, "if this was a show, this would happen or this is what we see," both because I originally thought of it as a show and because this is a screenplay, but more narratively cohesive.

Got that? GREAT!!!

Let's dive in!!!!!!!!!

Chapter/Episode 1: Union- Part 1

We start off in darkness with the sound of crackling fire in the background. One by one, a red light shines and silhouettes five figures, all standing in a circle as they face each other. If this was a show, the camera would be behind one of these figures as he and the other figures eye each other.

He starts a fire in his hand and two figures bristle while the other two back away-

An alarm clock blares out and we cut to a dark bedroom in a hotel suite, like the sound of the alarm woke US up, along with the character sleeping, who groans as his alarm keeps blaring.

After MAYBE the fifth chime, he sighs and slaps the alarm clock off, his arm slipping down his nightstand and droppong to the side of his bed.

His hand curls into a fist as the door is knocked on.

"Mr. Wagner? Are you awake yet?"

Yes! We start with our boy Lucius Wagner!

Lucius loudly humms, "Mm-hm" and sits up.

"You have an interview at nine', a meeting at a quarter to noon, and a conference at five'. Looks like another busy day."

He hears the person- man, woman, it doesn't matter- walk away and stands up from his bed to pull the curtain to his room back only to wince when the light hits his face.

It's too early for the sun to be so bright.

Despite being tired and not wanting to write to people because he can't talk, Lucius gets ready for his day.

Back to what we'd see if this was a show: the camera would be on Lucius as he stares out at the city before he takes a deep breath and turns away. Jump cut to the camera behind and away from Lucius as he turns and walks to the bathroom, turning on the TV before he starts getting ready, more specifically the news.

The camera stays on the TV as we learn Lucius, despite his young age of 22, is running for senator just like his human father did, but he is more successful because not only has crime rate already decreased, but any political opponents he goes against stepped down within minutes of the debate or conference he's in. With no evidence of bribery or any other scandal involved, as criminals are being found dead, one being brought up in todays broadcadt, Lucius is on his way to becoming Sentator of not only Massachusetts, but of the United States as a whole.

We do a transition from Lucius's room to the scene where the camera zooms in on the TV screen as it shows a body under a blanket and we hear the click of a camera and the lens shutters close and open.

On the streets, we now follow Damien Thorn as he gets as close as he can to the scene and the body. He has been investigating these 'accidents' since the arrival of everyone's favorite new politician, who has never spoken a word on camera, never said anything to or against his opponents, and never spoke during interviews. And somehow he's running for senator. Since it seems fishy to him, and because he keeps getting a sick feeling in his stomach when he sees Lucius on the news, he decided to start digging by tracing the criminals who have died and anyone who stepped down from conferences.

The body he is investigating today is a fisher from the town Lucius grew up in, who was charged for numerous cases of assault and fraud.

He is stopped by a police officer when he tries to cross the police tape.

"Sorry, that's close enough."

"It's for the paper. People want to know what's going on."

"They don't need to see this."

Damien scowls as his eyes go black, uttering a "sorry" as he stares the officer down.

The officer's face goes expressionless and just as he lifts the tape, the announcer gets a breaking report.

"This just in! An earthquake near the United Kingdoms has caused the south western quarter of England and Wales to be flooded and taken out to sea!"

Cut back to Lucius in his room as he chokes and gags on his toothbrush; if you've ever hit the back of your tongue while brushing your teeth, you'll get why he gags. He walks out, mouth kind of full of toothpaste and his toothbrush in his teeth, and sees an over head view of the map, showing just how much of England has been wiped out.

For context, here is what was taken out, circled in red⬇️⬇️

Lucius's eyes widen as he takes out his toothbrush.

I'm not good with fractions, but a third or fifth of England is now gone. And-

"While it is right now unknown how many are injured or missing, authorities have reported countless victims were lost in the catastrophe."

Lucius turns off the TV and finishes getting ready, a time jump/transition of Lucius going to the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste and then transitioning to him looking up from washing his face, like he leans down to spit out the toothpaste wearing no shirt and with some shower head, but when he leans back up, he's in a black dress shirt, about to tie his tie, his hair is tidy, and he is rubbing his face dry with a towel.

Part of England gone. Just like that.

It's a pretty shocking thing to imagine, with possibly hundreds or thousands of people being wiped out in the blink of an eye and the cause somehow being an earthquake.

Seems sort of fishy, if you ask me.

Lucius tries shrugging it off as he leaves his room, dressed to impress, and heads out for breakfast and his interview.

Cut to a pair of men walking on the sidewalk, the white-blonde haired one panicked and finicky while his red haired partner is swaggering beside him with a briefcase. The more brightly dressed man keeps "oh"-ing and whimpering , which is driving his more darkly attired kind of insane.

An angel and a demon.

If you've seen Good Omens, you KNOW who there two are

"Angel, stop muttering. You sound like you're summoning Satan himself."

"What if we can't find him? And what if he says 'no?'"

"We'll make him say 'yes.'"

Aziraphale looks down at the briefcase and then nods.

"And just how are we going to find him?"

"We found the antichrist once. We can find him again."

Aziraphale stops and gives him a withering look.

"Another one. We can find another one."

SPEAKING OF THE DEVIL'S SON!!!

Just as the two continue, they bump into a certain photographer that makes Aziraphale shudder like he's just gotten into an ice bath and Crowley smell either blood or smoke.

This wasn't what Crowley had in mind, but it's a start.

"Oi! 'Scuse me!"

Damien turns as he keeps walking. "Sorry, I have to hurry to..."

Aziraphale now starts trembling and Damien gets a sick feeling in his stomach, not like with seeing Lucius, like he has an air bubble in his stomach or really bad period cramps.

Crowley narrows his eyes behind his sunglasses and steps closer.

"Where you off to so quickly?"

Damien fights a gag as he continues to back away. "I-Interview. Wagner's see-seeing someone. Im-Important for the news."

Crowley steps closer and pulls Damien close by his color, making Damien pale and fall to his knees.

"Lucius Wagner?"

Damien nods.

Aziraphale and Crowley exchange glances before looking back at Damien, Aziraphale taking the briefcase away so Damien can recompose himself.

Cut to Lucius in the middle of his interview, which is being recorded on the news. So far he has been asked the basic political questions and he gave the correct answers to get people to love him. Then comes in ANOTHER breaking news report.

Part of California, Arizona, and New Mexico has also been flooded, but there aren't as many people missing as England.

"Mr. Wagner? How do you see yourself helping the families that are now broken by this tragedy?"

Before Lucius can answer, two people catch his eye.

Like when Damien saw him, Lucius gets a sick feeling in his stomach until he sees two young men, one scowling with wavy blond hair and the other with brown hair and the giddiest smile on a boy.

Suddenly, a member of the crowd pulls a gun out and shoots at Lucius, who throws himself and the woman he's interviewing with to the ground.

The blond smirks and the brunette grows angry.

The shooter gets a look of pure despair on his face as he drops to his knees letting the police drag him away.

Lucius is escorted away instead gets a call.

His schedule has changed completely. He must now go a military base, where a private jet is waiting for him to take him home; his address is classified to the public, so no one knows where he lives.

Cut to Lucius walking through a crowd as he tries to get to his jet, trying his best to wave at the paparazzi and camera people.

"Mr. Wagner, if you'll let me ask you-"

The man who asked grabs Lucius's arm and the two meet eyes. You know that part of the forst Lucius game where time freezes and you see your target with the screen tinted red? Lucius and Damien met eyes and time freezes entirely as they stare at each other and feel the growing urge to kill each other.

They don't hear anyone or anything. They only see each other.

Both are wide eyed as they realize who or what the other is and glare at each other.

Luckily, a body guard punches Damien away and helps Lucius to the jet, where he takes his seat and lets out a breath as he loosens his tie and tips his head back.

"So sorry for all that, Mr. Wagner, sir."

Lucius looks over to see someone like an air flight attendant and writes them a message.

'Don't worry about it. I've had worse happen.'

"Well, at least you're headong home, after all this."

Lucius nods and leans back once more, getting comfortable for his flight to home sweet home.

It's a relatively short flight, mostly because we'd see a timelapse of the sky and Lucius napping in his seat before we cut to him in his house.

Being a senator in the running, Lucius is on a very nice house, one he keeps clean and well furnished. Think Lucifer's penthouse in the shiw Licifer, but it's an actual house and doesn't have a wall of alcohol, just a small cabinet in his parlor and shelf in his fridge.

He turns on a light and nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees Crowley sitting in his living room.

"Hello, Me. Wagner. Nice flight?"

Lucius recomposes himself and raises an eyebrow as he holds a hand out. 'How did you get in here?'

"Just a bit of miracle work from a demon. Takes one to know one, right?"

Lucius takes a seat as he writes a message, showing it to Crowley with narrow eyes.

'I don't exactly know who you are, but you don't have the right to make an accusation like that.'

"You're one of the sons of Satan, I'm pretty sure I do."

'My father was Charles Wagner.'

"Ah, yes, the loon that killed your mother and his own staff while you were sent to the nut house."

'He tried to kill me.'

"Eye for an eye, you prat."

Lucius's eye twitches as he snaps his pen in half, eyes going red.

Crowley only smirks and removes his sunglasses, revealing his snake eyes, befire putting them back on; the lights Lucius has are bright.

Lucius settles and grabs another pen from the coffee table and writes a new message.

'Antony J. Crowley? It's about time London's famed has paid the US a visit.'

"You would think." Crowley leans forward until his elbiws are on his knees. "Look, you're not going to like this, but there's something we need your help with."

Lucius gets up and shakes his head before leaving a messge on the table, and to go the the kitchen to get a drink; like hell he's dealing with CROWLEY sober.

'I don't know if you've noticed, but I have a country I'll be running soon. I don't exactly have time to help you or your pet angel.'

Crowley snarls and follows Lucius to see the young man about to take a sip of a drink.

"Don't you think it's weird that parts of England and America are just gone? That the ocean just took them away and an earthquake was the cause?"

Lucius pauses and lowers his drink slightly, eyes on Crowley as he nods and gestures for the snake eyed demon to continue.

'I'm listening.'

And that will be it for part 1 of Chapter/Episode 1!!!! Man, was this fun to write!!!! Like I said, this is just part 1 and I will be continuing with Chapter/Episode 1 Part 2, I promise!

Sorry for all the yelling, I'm really excited!!

Thank you all so much for reading this and I hope you all have a happy and safe holiday season!!!

#sons of the morning star #lucius wagner #damien thorn #michael langdon #adam young #jack kline #crossover

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aion-rsa · 3 years

Text

Night Stalker: The Hunt for a Serial Killer Review – Richard Ramirez Docuseries Speaks Plainly

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Netflix dives into one of the most horrifying cases of multiple murders with its eyes wide open in Night Stalker: The Hunt for a Serial Killer. The documentary is told from the perspective of the investigators at the heart of the case, particularly a veteran homicide detective and his young, enthusiastic partner. They had nothing going into the case, and when they did dig out the clues, they often lost what they had because of its newsworthiness. The series works because it treats the audience the same way as the cops were treated: infuriatingly.

Every clue, setback, and recalculation in Night Stalker: The Hunt for a Serial Killer is satisfyingly frustrating. We all know the story by now, so director Tiller Russell can leisurely fill in the plot. We don’t even get the name of the serial killer until the end of the third episode. It’s not in the title, and if the detectives don’t know it, the series won’t disclose it. This is an internal affair, and early disclosures to the media contaminate clues like dancing on a crime scene in a pair of size 12 Avia sneakers.

The four-part series opens in a hot and happy Los Angeles, filled with glossy tinsel and hair metal. The city hosted the Olympics in 1984, and the Lakers were international superstars. Archival weather reports continually update a sweltering heat wave, and the citizens cool off leisurely and diversely. But not after dark, where the bulk of the docu-series is set. That is LA Noir. The same kind of darkness that crept into the headlines when the Black Dahlia murder struck, but more similar to the Manson Family killings.

One bad boy, who will later be described as having incredible sex appeal, rips the nightlife apart. At the time, though, all anyone knows about him is he has bad teeth, smells like a goat, and loves AC/DC. Night Stalker: The Hunt for a Serial Killer captures the mid-eighties period well, with archival TV news and clips of then-current shows. When the events turn creepy, Max Headroom is playing on a black and white TV in the distance, almost out of focus.

Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department Detective Gil Carrillo and renowned homicide cop Frank Salerno are great storytellers whose obvious gravitas centers the documentary. There is one other standout from law enforcement. San Francisco Police Department homicide Inspector Frank Falzon actually breaks down what it’s like to be goaded into punching a possible witness. He completely explains the forces which lead him to do it. The frustration, the horrid images of the case which flashed into his mind. The disgust he felt at the actual details. Carrillo has a similar incident, convinced of a suspect who fits too perfectly only to be told “He’s a freak, but not your freak.” But his defining moment probably comes when he can’t bear to even listen to a discussion of putting a child who had been sexually assaulted on the stand to testify.

Even though we know how it ends, the limited docu-series captures the race against the clock tension of the summer of 1985. Initially tagged “The Walk-In Killer” and “The Valley Intruder” by the press, the satanic beast prowling Los Angeles came to be known as “The Night Stalker.” His crimes seemed disconnected because the victims were so varied. Serial killers usually have a specific type of victim. The Night Stalker’s crimes appeared to be random. “There was no pattern,” a detective bemoans in an interview.

The detectives get blowback from inside and out. We hear about an important theory being laughed out of a meeting. Investigators have to deal with cops in different districts not sharing information, as multiple jurisdictions spark “a pissing match between Type A dudes.” The investigators don’t only have to deal with the media blowing the case. They get the information from a politician who releases details which tip off the suspect. Many of these details have never been told.

We also get to hear Laurel Erickson and Paul Skolnick, the journalists who covered the story from the beginning, explain why they were so eager for details, and where they drew the line. Like the Hillside Strangler, who had recently been caught by Salerno’s homicide team, the Night Stalker was a once-in-a-lifetime case. Not only to the press, police and politicians, but to the community, which ultimately plays the most emotionally satisfying part in the documentary. When the suspect is caught in East Los Angeles, he tells the arresting officers “Thank God you came.”

The mystery unfolds through first-person interviews with victims who lived through the attacks, some of whom were allowed to survive. One woman remembers being dropped off at a gas station to call someone to take her home after the killer had sexually assaulted her in a dingy room. She was a child when that happened, one of the youngest of the Night Stalker’s victims. They ranged in age from six to 82; were men, women and children; some affluent, others poor; and of a mix of races. Anyone could be the next victim. The persistent updates on the heatwave accentuate this, because in a town under siege no one can sleep with their windows open. After Charles Manson had been caught, the people in Los Angeles didn’t feel the need to lock their doors, the documentary asserts. Now residents barred their windows.

Books

The Last Book on the Left Takes on the Grim History of Serial Killers

By Alec Bojalad

Movies

Crazy, Not Insane Doc Studies Serial Killers’ Minds on HBO

By Tony Sokol

The assailant also varied his weaponry, using knives, hammers, tire irons, and a .22 caliber pistol. The savage specter takes on an almost occult status when the investigators find pentagrams drawn and carved on walls, and occasionally on victims. The killer gouged the eyes out of one woman. He used thumb cuffs, which comes as a visual surprise to the detective recounting it. He relives that one moment of discovery with both a personal revulsion and a cop’s curiosity. He still hasn’t gotten his head around it, and it’s only one detail. Like an Avia sneaker, size 11 and a half, the only one shipped to Los Angeles since the company was founded.

There have been several features on the notorious killer at the center of Night Stalker: The Hunt for a Serial Killer. Chris Fisher’s film Nightstalker (2002), Ulli Lommel’s Nighstalker from 2009, and Megan Griffiths’ The Night Stalker (2016). His story was dramatized in the 1989 TV movie Manhunt: Search for the Night Stalker. Zach Villa played Ramirez on American Horror Story: 1984. Director Russell, whose father worked in the Dallas DA’s office, grew up in courthouses, jails and police precincts.He keeps his focus steadily on the investigators and the victims.

Russell presents the evidence plainly. Emotionally, he wants to present the feel that anyone in the horrific footage could have been a viewer or someone they know. He never treats the victims like statistics. We get personal stories, like one told by a granddaughter remembering how she preferred a grandma who did cartwheels over any necklace heirloom which could be bequeathed. The documentary occasionally lets the camera wander around recreated footage too long, and takes leisurely pauses of action with only music over grim background sets to amplify the atmosphere. We also get the occasional emotion-cam closeup, with a frozen face willing a testimony into a camera wordlessly.

The first glimmer of a name the documentary provides for the suspect is Richard Mena, who is being treated for an impacted tooth. Richard Ramirez actually doesn’t get much screen time. We get a very curt statement on why he turned out the way he did. “All the things that could poison a child were part of his life,” a detective explains. The only detail is a recollection of how Ramirez was tied to a cross in a cemetery overnight as a reprimand from his religious father. Ramirez explains himself throughout, although without credit until we learn the quotes and affirmations come from a recorded interview the Night Stalker gave from prison. But we never learn how Satan was “a stabilizing force in his life,” which prompted “a motivational charge.”

The documentary explores the killer-groupie phenomenon, but it is from the amazed and uncomprehending reactions of the investigating officers, and the families of the victims. They don’t get it. The journalists who covered it have never seen anything like it. It proves everything about the case is unprecedented. We see Ramirez, upon sentencing, tell the families, as well as the judge, jurors and investigating officers: “You don’t understand me. You are not expected to. You are not capable of it. I am beyond your experience.” The doc cuts his last lines, “I will be avenged. Lucifer dwells in us all.” What replaces it is a snippet of Ramirez requesting a promise that his recorded interviews be erased after his death.

Night Stalker: The Hunt for a Serial Killer is a satisfyingly exhaustive account of the investigation into the Richard Ramirez murder-and-assault-spree. But know it is limited to the crimes and the cities they were committed in. Los Angeles is a bigger character in the documentary than Ramirez. The docu-series isn’t about him. It’s about what he did, and the people he did it to. Survivors describe his very presence in the court as “evil,” and the documentary resolutely chalks the case up as a triumph for good. By following the timelines so deliberately, Russell lays out the arc of a perfect detective story. That being said, I could have watched two more installments on the villain and collateral damage.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Night Stalker: The Hunt for a Serial Killer streams on Netflix on Jan. 13.

The post Night Stalker: The Hunt for a Serial Killer Review – Richard Ramirez Docuseries Speaks Plainly appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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lilacmiracle · 4 years

Text

The Mysterious Wharfstache Disappearances

Fandoms: Markiplier, Buzzfeed Unsolved

Note: Quotation marks are Ryan narrating, bold is Shane speaking, italics are Ryan speaking

(AO3) Words: 2066

The video opens on the visual of a lone light bulb swinging into frame, illuminating the word “UNSOLVED,” which is stylized in a way that makes it appear to be stamped on. Almost immediately after the light bulb becomes still, the word “BuzzFeed” appears over the “UNSOLVED,” and beneath both of these is the caption “True Crime,” and neither of these new additions are written in any kind of stylized font. An animated piece of tape appears in the corner of the screen, with the words “WHARFSTACHE DISAPPEARANCES” written on it in the same sort of aesthetic as the “UNSOLVED.”

“This week on BuzzFeed Unsolved we are investigating the now-infamous mystery of the Wharfstache Disappearances.”

The screen had shifted from the title card to show the co-hosts at their desk, with Ryan on the right of the screen and Shane on the left.

“Named after the sole survivor of the events that led up to these disappearances, this enigmatic case has puzzled investigators for nearly a century.”

Quite the doozy, this one is. An enigma, you say?

There are so many weird things in this case that I nearly put it in “Supernatural.”

Wow. Really?

Really.

“On the evening of October 10, 1920, four guests were invited to the Iplier Manor for an informal poker night. Those present at the party at the time included the Colonel, William Barnum, and the host, Mark Iplier. The enigmatic identities of the second, third and fourth guests is only the first of many bizarre mysteries surrounding this case.”

We are wasting no time. Getting right into the weird.

“We know that the second guest at this ‘poker night’ was, in fact, the District Attorney. However, all official records that mentioned the DA had their name completely redacted, as well as any photographs containing their face had that part destroyed. All information that could lead to their identity has been obliterated.”

Just...gone?

Gone.

Poof.

(laughter)

“Something similar affected the identities of the third and fourth guests, though not nearly as severely. The third guest, a Detective, had his last name redacted, though we know that he went by 'Abe.' The fourth guest, the Mayor, also had his last name completely redacted. We know his first name, Damien, and that he had a twin sister, Celine.”

All of these names will become important later.

“On October 11, witness testimonies state that Celine, Damien’s sister, entered the Manor."

Why?

We’ll come back to that in theories.

“On October 13, the Colonel, now calling himself Wilford Wharfstache, reported to a local police station to 'find where Damien was hiding.' He led police back to the Manor, where they found no evidence of anyone living there, instead finding what appeared to be a crime scene, along with suspicious blood-like stains in some areas of the house.”

Crime scene? Caution tape, everything?

Yes. There was an outline of a body on the floor, and the area was surrounded by caution tape.

What????

“After the police had searched the house, finding no one, they further questioned the Colonel. They arrested him after he had stated, ‘I thought I killed Mark, but it was all a joke! Did you find Damien yet? He must have been behind this...’ along with other ‘suspicious comments.’“

Just a prank, bro.

(wheeze)

“Now let’s get into the theories.”

“The first and most widely accepted theory, put up by police, is that the Colonel killed the other four members of the party, and Celine.”

I feel like we’re gonna get some stuff saying “Oh yeah, here’s ten reasons why it was definitely him.”

He makes a compelling case.

“When he was interviewed prior to his arrest, he told police that he shot and mortally wounded Iplier, the Detective, and the DA. Allegedly, Damien and Celine ‘disappeared,’ into a room that was described as ‘dressed up for a séance.’ No such room was found.”

He admits to killing three people, but not these other two people that he definitely murdered? Like, “I killed all these people, but I don’t want these guys’ blood on my hands.”

“I know! I’ll say they disappeared into a spooky room.”

“The police’ll never see it coming!”

(both laughing)

“However, the Colonel was not charged with the quintuple murder. Instead, he was placed in an asylum, due to many police officers and psychologists stating that he was insane.”

He killed five people! Of course he’s crazy!

Yeah, but...

“When asked why he believed that the events had been a joke, he stated that he had shot the DA, but they came back to life and walked away.”

Yeah, that’s insanity. I can see that. Why was he even there hours later?

The police asked him that too. He actually said, and I quote, “to make sure they didn’t disappear.”

That’s definitely crazy right there.

“He also had motive for the murders. Iplier, his first victim, had long been one of his best friends, but they didn’t speak for years after Iplier had caught his wife, Celine, cheating with the Colonel.”

A murderer and a homewrecker.

Not good.

“They hadn’t even been civil to each other at the party, according to reports from the butler, Benjamin.”

Wait, wait, wait. Now there’s a butler?

He wasn’t really important, all he did was watch the events. He refused to talk about it.

But he was a witness!

He refused to give any reports on what happened, only a few details.

Unbelievable.

“All of this culminated in a game of Russian Roulette. The gun reportedly used was the Colonel’s own revolver, which, when investigated, showed signs of tampering.”

So it wasn’t an accident.

Nope.

Definitely murder.

“He also had a motive for killing the Detective and the DA. A room was found in the house that was likely used by the Detective to investigate who had committed the murder, with a piece of paper found within the typewriter, with the words 'The Colonel did it' typed repeatedly over the entire sheet.”

Sounds like this Detective had a few screws loose himself.

He was known for being a bit...eccentric, but he was one of the best detectives of the time.

“Additionally, the DA was the Detective’s partner in the investigation, as told by the butler and the chef -”

Are there any more people you haven’t told me about?

Just the gardener, and he doesn’t do anything.

“And a photograph of the Detective and who can be assumed to be the DA was found in the Detective’s wallet, along with other photos of himself with known partners of his.”

I’m guessing the DA’s face was gone?

Yup.

Also -- just wondering -- is “Damien’s sister” Celine the same as “Mark’s wife” Celine?

Yes.

So he killed her out of jealousy.

Let me read the theory before you spoil it, jerk!

“His motive for killing Celine was that she had married Mark, knowing full well that he loved her.”

She’s allowed to love other people! Not everything’s about you, Mr. Wharfstache.

I mean...this motive is the one that grasps at the most straws. He never acted this sexist previously, and it has been said that he had more respect for women than most other men of the time.

“There has not been any proposed motive for killing Damien, however, many proponents of this theory state that by this point he was too far gone to need a motive.”

That’s fair.

“The issue with this theory is that no bodies have been found on or near the property. The most evidence of there being any bodies was the makeshift crime scene, which was claimed to be that of Iplier’s.”

No bodies.

Nope.

Nowhere that he could have hid the bodies.

Nope.

They just went “poof.”

Yep.

Everything’s going “poof” in this case...

(wheeze)

“It also doesn’t cover why, exactly, Celine went to the Manor. She was a self-proclaimed psychic, so some speculate that she sensed a disturbance at the death of her ex-husband.”

There’s a lot to unpack there. First of all -- ex-husband?

She did cheat.

Yeah, but why would she be keeping psychic tabs on him?

Beats me.

And second of all -- she died, right?

Yes. Don’t you dare -

Guess she didn’t see that coming.

God damn it, Shane.

“The second theory is that the Colonel, with the aid of Celine, murdered four people at the party.”

No.

Wow. Just -- no?

No. She’d kill her twin brother? I’ve met twins, man. No way.

“This theory states that when the Colonel received the invitation to the party, he and Celine planned out how to kill Mark and cover it up - her arrival would keep focus off of the Colonel long enough to cover his tracks, and if people got too suspicious, then she or the Colonel killed them. This theory also explains her disappearance -- she managed to evade police custody and the now-insane Wharfstache.”

Didn’t her brother disappear with her?

Yeah, but he and the Colonel didn’t get along.

Still no reason to kill your brother.

“This theory still doesn’t address where the bodies of Iplier, the Detective, the DA, and the Mayor are.”

This is...a theory. Not a great theory, and not one I agree with, but...

It’s a theory.

“The third theory is that it was, in fact, a joke on the Colonel. Damien was known for his practical jokes, especially the kind that required a lot of planning.”

They let this guy rot in an asylum?

We’ll get to that.

“This theory explains the lack of bodies, due to the fact that nobody died, but it opens up a new question: why would everyone disappear?”

I can see why the Mayor would. He was probably tired of his job -

He had actually just been elected, along with the DA. They had both recently gotten their jobs.

Then it doesn’t make sense?

“Some speculate that Mark and Celine both wanted to start their lives over, as both of them had been described as ‘reclusive’ and ‘lonely.’“

Still doesn’t explain the Mayor and the DA.

I know.

“It also explains why the Colonel saw the DA get up after being shot.”

Not just the ramblings of a crazy murderer?

Actually, there was evidence to suggest that he was telling the truth.

You’re kidding.

Nope.

“This is supported by footprints that match the DA’s shoes that led from the spot that Wharfstache claims to have placed the body, all the way out to the grounds, stopping just before the end of the property.”

That’s weird. Something isn’t right.

There’s a reason that this might belong in “Supernatural.”

Zombies?

(wheeze)

“This also explains the subsequent escape of Wharfstache from the asylum.”

He escaped?

Yeah, a few days after he was committed. He’s like a ghost story now, with sightings all over the world, spanning even into the modern day. According to a bunch of these, he hasn’t aged a day and is now even crazier than ever.

I don’t think most of those are him. I think he’s either an old man in a nursing home, or dead.

That’s very morbid of you.

It was a hundred years ago!

“The fourth and final theory is that there was a demon in the house, killing all of the inhabitants and driving Wharfstache to insanity. Some say that it possessed the body of the DA, which is why they walked off. Some also say that its activity alerted Celine, who went to investigate and was killed along with everyone else. It also explains why Iplier was described as reclusive, even though he was very much a people person before purchasing the Manor; he had been greatly influenced by the demon, who preyed on his young and vulnerable mind. It also explains how and why those names were erased.”

You seem quiet.

This feels like a cop-out. It feels like aliens.

Can you definitively say that a demon was not involved?

No. And I hate that.

“Whatever events transpired in that Manor, wherever these people disappeared to, is a mystery that will remain...Unsolved.”

The screen shifts to an image of the UNSOLVED logo over a black background. A few moments later, it shifts back to Shane and Ryan.

The Manor’s a tourist attraction now. The guy who got it in the Iplier’s will, he didn’t want it.

If that’s gonna be your demonic sacrifice for the season, I’ll go.

...okay.

#markiplier #wkm #wkm fic #buzzfeed unsolved #wkm the mayor #wkm the da #wkm the seer #wkm the actor #wkm the detective #wkm the colonel #shane madej #ryan bergara

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gwenbrightly · 4 years

Text

The Gingerbread Caper

Cross-posted from ffnet.

The quiet atmosphere of the monastery was broken by the sound of screaming originating from Kai’s bedroom, waking anyone who still happened to be asleep. Nya groaned in annoyance and covered her face with a pillow. Wu was letting them slack off from Sunrise Exercises and she really didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to take advantage of that.

“GET IT OFF ME!!!” Her brother screamed again, forming coherent words this time. That was it. Obviously, the master of water wasn’t going to be sleeping in today. She threw her pillow aside and climbed out of bed, eyeing her clock resentfully. It was far too early for this. Not that 10 am was particularly early (but still!). She trudged from her room still wrapped in one of her blankets.

“What the heck, Kai?” Nya demanded when she reached Kai’s bedroom just down the hall. The master of fire sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He tossed something at her in disgust. She caught it with minimal effort. A gingerbread man. Or, at least, what was left of one. The poor cookie didn’t have any head.

“This better not have been you, sis.” he stated. Nya rolled her eyes, tempted to return to the comfort of her bed rather than deal with her over dramatic brother.

“Like I’d ever stoop so low. Seriously, you didn’t need to scream like that. It’s just a cookie.”

Kai gaped at her indignantly.

“Would you wanna wake up with some creepy soulless human wannabe in your bed?”

“Now there’s a quote I should send to your lovely girlfriend right away.” Nya laughed. He glared at her for a moment before suddenly shooting up from his bed.

“Skylor!”

“What?” she asked, confused, “I swear I wasn’t actually planning on sending this to her.”

“No, she’s supposed to be coming over today to decorate cookies with us!” he reminded her. Nya face-palmed.

“I can’t believe I forgot about that…”

“Actually, this is perfect. She’ll be totally unbiased about this whole gingerbread man fiasco.” Kai mused, already deep in thought. His sister frowned at him. It was obvious he had something up his sleeve.

“What are you planning?”

“Don’t look so worried, Nya. This is just like one of Ninja Noir’s mysteries! I just gotta follow the trail of evidence and eventually, I’ll be able to eliminate the impossible and find the truth!” Kai told her, quoting his favorite detective series.

“Kai, no.” she said, attempting to prevent the situation from getting totally out of hand. He ignored her, instead opting to head over to his closet to grab something. When he turned to face Nya again, he was wearing a fedora.

“Since when do you own a fedora?” the master of water questioned. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

“Shhhh,” he cut her off with a wave of his hand, “Just go with it.”

Nya sighed, but followed him to go wait for Skylor to appear.

_________________________________________________________________

“Do I even wanna know what I just walked into?” Skylor wondered when she caught site of the scene playing out in the living room. Her boyfriend stared suspiciously at Lloyd and Jay, who were playing what appeared to be a rather intense game of Fist to Face (Ninja Edition!). It took him a second to register her presence. Nya waved her over, smiling apologetically.

“Someone,” Kai began to explain, holding up the cookie, which he’d gotten back from his sister, “thought it would be funny to put this in my bed and I wanna know who.”

Skylor resigned herself to another of Kai’s chaotic schemes. She already knew he had a problem with gingerbread people (and Christmas elves, and those little expanding bath toys they sold at the dollar store for that matter), though he wouldn’t tell her what it was about the holiday treats that bothered him so much.

“Eh okay. How can I help?”

“Are you sure you wanna do that?” Nya asked at the same time as Kai said, “You can be, like, the insanely hot mystery woman who helps the dashing detective (me) solve the mystery.”

“Real smooth, dork. But sure, why not.” the redhead decided, punching the master of fire’s shoulder lightly to distract from how rosy her cheeks were all of a sudden. He grinned in delight.

“Cool! Oh, and I guess Nya can help too.” Kai added as an afterthought. Nya raised an eyebrow.

“Well, you’re obviously not a suspect, sis! The gingerbread man couldn’t have been in my bed long or it would have crumbled, and you value sleep way too much to have gotten up early enough to orchestrate this.” he stated confidently. She didn’t look like she was taking this as a compliment.

“So, detective Smith, where do we start our investigation?” Skylor prompted. She had no desire to see the siblings get into a debate over their sleeping habits.

“Oh. Uh… We have to interview our suspects!” announced Kai, dragging Skylor and Nya over to the two video game playing ninja.

“Oh, hey guys. You wanna join our next round?” Jay offered, not taking his eyes off of the screen. He rapidly pressed several buttons on his controller at once.

“Yeah, it’ll be way more fun with more players!” agreed Lloyd. He gave a smirk of triumph as his avatar landed a final hit on his opponent. The master of lightning groaned, disappointed.

“Actually, I think Kai had something he wanted to ask you.” Skylor informed them. Jay and Lloyd set aside their controllers, curious. The sight of Kai in a fedora was unexpected; Lloyd was usually the only one who found them fashionable enough to wear.

“Oh, okay. What’s up?” the green ninja asked, wondering what on earth could be so pressing that Kai had gotten Nya and Skylor involved.

“I was wondering if you knew anything about this?” answered Kai he shoved the cookie under his brother’s nose. Taking note of the gingerbread man, Jay demanded, “Hey – how’d you convince Zane to let you have one of his cookies?”

He’d tried to snag one earlier that morning, only to be thwarted by the master of ice, who insisted they must save the gingerbread cookies for Skylor’s arrival. This was rather unfortunate, as they smelled utterly delicious.

“No, I- you’re telling me that you, the two biggest pranksters around, have no idea how this got in my bed?” Kai stated, skeptical. The two ninja shook their heads. It appeared he was going to have to use a different interrogation method to get answers. He judged his sister. She glared at him. He nodded pointedly at Lloyd and Jay. Not wanting to give in so easily, Nya stared at Kai silently for several minutes before finally relenting.

“If that’s true, then you won’t mind telling us what you’ve been doing all morning.” she said in her best police officer voice (and secretly wishing she had a fake mustache on her).

“Oh, that’s easy. We’ve been having a Fist to Face (Ninja Edition!) tournament for the past couple of hours. Just look at the scoreboard,” Jay told them with a shrug, “I mean, it is kinda embarrassing to see how many times Lloyd’s hooped me already today, but if it gets you to stop looking at me like that…”

Lloyd nodded, the picture of innocence. They took a closer look at the screen. Sure enough, the scores for the past thirty or so rounds, along with the times they were completed scrolled across the pause screen.

“Huh. Well, I guess you’re off the hook. For now, at least.” Kai decided, wondering who he should use his detective skills on next if the most obvious suspects had been ruled out.

“Maybe Zane knows who it was. He’s been in the kitchen all morning.” suggested Lloyd as he set up another round of the video game. Skylor grabbed Kai’s elbow and drug him towards the door, saying, “Good idea. I need to give him the extra sprinkles I brought anyway.”

Nya mouthed I’ll be back later to her boyfriend before following them. Instead of heading directly to the kitchen, Kai insisted on examining every nook and cranny of the hallway. He held a magnifying glass he’d somehow ended up with, though no one could say for sure where it had come from, and was doing his best to mutter what he thought sounded like very professional and insightful comments.

“Ahah! A trail of crumbs. Collect that for evidence, Sky.”

The redhead pretended like she hadn’t heard him, sharing a grossed out look with Nya.

“Oh, hey! Weren’t you missing an earring, Nya?”

Kai held out something sparkly and blue.

“Uh…thanks.” Nya accepted it, a look of utter surprise on her face. She’d been searching for this earring for weeks. Could it be possible that Kai was actually… good at this detective stuff?

“The detective and his sidekicks arrived at the kitchen at approximately 11:05 am., wondering what clues they would uncover inside…” Kai loudly announced, interrupting Nya’s thoughts.

“Hello!” Zane greeted them. Bowls of frosting in an impressively wide range of colors lined the counters along with several different kinds of sprinkles. Pixal was currently adding a few drops of vibrant red food dye to one of the few bowls that remained uncolored.

“Yes, welcome! Did you bring the sprinkles?” she asked. Skylor pulled a jar from her purse.

“Yep, here you go.”

“Thank goodness,” exclaimed Zane, taking them from her, “Dyeing sugar crystals by hand just isn’t effective.”

“Tell me about it. We tried it at the restaurant one time when we were in a pinch and… it didn’t work well.” the redhead recalled. Having grown bored with the conversation the others were having about epic fails with sprinkles, Kai examined the trays of cookies stacked next to the oven. Just as he’d predicted, one row of cookies was missing a gingerbread man.

“Hey, Zane, Pixal? You guys have been in here all morning, right?” he asked, casually. The two nindroids glanced at each other. Zane was the first to reply.

“Well, I stepped out for a few moments to bring Master Wu some oolong tea – he claims to be feeling a bit under the weather today – but, other than that, yes. Why?”

“I’m trying to figure out where this cookie came from. You didn’t happen to, say, give one of these to someone, did you?” Kai showed them the gingerbread man, curious to see their reaction. He was a little disappointed when neither of them did anything incriminating.

“I suppose it’s possible that Cole took it when I wasn’t looking. He came in here while Zane was gone to grab some extra tape.” Pixal said thoughtfully. Ahah! Kai’s eyes lit up.

“So he’s wrapping presents, huh,” he mused, “I wonder if he’s gotten to mine yet…”

“Kai! I thought you were being a detective, not some nosy kid!” his sister hissed disapprovingly. He huffed indignantly.

“I’m just curious, Nya. And besides, all the best detectives can multi-task.” Kai defended.

“Suuure.”

“Anyway, thank you for the info. We may be back later.” the master of fire stated in a more professional tone, heading out into the hall once more. Zane and Pixal waved as the others left, not sure how else to respond.

En route to Cole’s bedroom, Kai immediately reverted back to carefully examining every small space, carpet snag, and leafy garland in sight. Nothing escaped the lens of his magnifying glass. Not even his sister’s tennis shoes, which kept blocking his view. If he could just find something, anything, that would prove once and for all who was guilty of this delectable crime… Wait. Kai caught a whiff of something cinnamony wafting off of a wreath hung across the hall from the master of earth’s door. He sniffed the gingerbread man. It was the same smell. Reaching into the wreath, he plucked something small and round from inside. Victory! Skylor stared at him in confusion for a few minutes before realizing what he was holding.

“Is that what I think it is?”

Kai held the two pieces of the gingerbread man together.

“Yep. Looks like we might just have an official suspect.”

“You’re so weird…” Nya muttered under her breath. She was pretty sure nothing would possess her to behave like this.

“Hey, it worked pretty well, didn’t it?” Kai pointed out, slinging an arm around her shoulders. She sidestepped quickly, shrugging it off as she went.

“Well…” she started reluctantly, “I guess we’d better get in there and get some answers.” She swung the door open. They could hear the pleasant tune of the Nutcracker soundtrack playing on Cole’s phone as they entered. The ninja in question sat at his desk, surrounded by wrapping paper. He turned around and blocked their view of whatever else was on the desk before quickly asking, “Do… you need something, or are you just here to enjoy the total masterpiece that is the Nutcracker?”

“Uh, yeah. Though, it is definitely a classic.” Nya told him appreciatively. They would have to pull out the recording of Cole’s 6th grade performance of the ballet that Lou had given them one day soon.

“Let’s cut to the chase. We know why you were really in the kitchen, Cole.” Kai cut in impatiently. Cole’s face flushed with embarrassment.

“Aw, man! You’re not gonna tell Zane, are you?” he stammered.

“…What?” the master of fire attempted to ask.

“This is a one-time thing, I swear! His frosting is just too delicious to resist.” Cole continued sheepishly, oblivious to Kai’s question. Kai, Skylor, and Nya froze. This wasn’t at all what they had been expecting him to say.

“Zane’s…. Frosting?” Skylor repeated, wanting to make sure they had heard him right.

“Well yeah. I’ve been snacking in it all morning,” the master of earth admitted, showing them a mostly empty bowl, “It’s so good! Wait - what did you think I was talking about?”

No one replied at first; they were still processing the unexpected turn of events.

“We… may have thought you put a headless gingerbread man in Kai’s bed to mess with him.” Nya ultimately explained. Cole couldn’t help himself. He burst into laughter at this admission.

“Wow, I guess that explains the looks on your faces right about now. But as totally brilliant of an idea as that prank is, I had nothing to do with it. Sorry.”

“Eh, it’s okay. We probably shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions when Pixal told us you’d been in the kitchen. Or when I found the gingerbread man’s head in that wreath. In hindsight it was a pretty weird hiding place.” Kai said apologetically.

“Yeah.” his sister agreed.

“Almost…. Like someone wanted us to find it…” he continued.

“You think whoever did this tried to frame Cole?” Skylor questioned, finishing his thought. It was all coming together now.

“I guess I do…. Oolong tea not licorice…. Hang on a sec, I think I solved this thing!”

Nya gave him a look, as if questioning his sanity. His ramblings made little sense to her.

“No offense, Kai, but you lost me at tea.” she told him with a frown.

“Me too, honestly.” Cole nodded, equally lost, especially since he had missed a majority of the investigative process. Kai rolled his eyes in exasperation and said, “Just make sure everyone meets me in the living room in five minutes, and I’ll explain then, okay?”

“Even Master Wu?” Cole clarified, not wanting to disturb the old man without a good reason.

“Especially Master Wu.” Kai confirmed before dashing out of the room and leaving everyone else to wonder whether or not the master of fire was going to crash and burn.

He paced back and forth across the living room, earning the occasional odd look from Lloyd and Jay, who had moved on to arguing over the existence of a plot hole in the latest Starfarers movie.

“I’m telling you, Jay. They left that part vague so that it can be expanded on in the sequel!” Lloyd insisted. Jay didn’t look like he agreed with this statement, still stuck on his accusations of lazy writing. He was rescued from having to formulate a convincing comeback by the arrival of the rest of the residents of the monastery. Nya and Skylor had returned to the kitchen for the pair of nindroids, leaving Cole to retrieve Master Wu. The room was suddenly filled with noisy conversations as everyone claimed a seat.

“Okay. Let’s get down to business.” Kai practically shouted over the din. One by one, the others stopped talking and looked at him.

“Alright, let’s get this hare-brained scheme of yours over with so we can have lunch, then.” Cole encouraged, speaking for everyone. While they were curious to see if Kai had actually figured out who had pranked him, they had also gotten more than a little tired of being on the receiving end of his investigative tactics.

“Right. As you all know, I woke up this morning to find a decapitated gingerbread man in my bed,” the master of fire began dramatically, making sure everyone could see the cookie, “at first, it seemed like our resident pranksters, Lloyd and Jay, were the obvious suspects. However, they both had a strong alibi… It couldn’t have been them – they were right here in this room playing video games when the crime was committed.” he crossed over to Zane and Pixal, “next, my lovely assistants and I headed to the source of the cookie – the kitchen, in the hopes that someone there would know what had happened. Our ever-watchful ice ninja hadn’t seen anything suspicious. He stepped out for what, 15 minutes tops?”

“That is correct,” Zane nodded.

“He was getting Master Wu some tea because he was sick,” Kai explained, “more on that later. Pixal told us that Cole had come looking for tape while Zane was gone. We figured maybe he could give us some answers, so we headed for his room, and you know what we found in the wreath across the hall from his door?”

“That’s right,” Nya jumped in, though she still wasn’t sure how relevant it was, “The missing head!”

“Exactly. So obviously that must mean that Cole’s the culprit, right?” Jay and Lloyd looked at each other. Were they supposed to agree?

“Wrong! If he’d taken the cookie, he would’ve eaten the head right away, not hidden it. The only thing Cole was guilty of was stealing a bowl of frosting for a mid-morning snack. And that’s when it hit me. What kind of tea does Master Wu always drink when he’s sick?”

“Licorice?” Lloyd offered. Kai smiled triumphantly.

“Bingo. But when he asked Zane to bring him some tea, he asked for Oolong tea, which he never drinks when he’s sick because it tastes nasty with honey in it. Master Wu, you’re not really sick, are you?”

The elderly spinjitzu master smiled weakly at him, but did not deny the accusation.

“Here’s what happened: Master Wu asked Zane to bring him some tea because he knew it would distract him long enough for the real gingerbread prankster to put their plan into action. Knowing she only had a short amount of time, Pixal grabbed a cookie and snuck into my bedroom to plant it on me. She also hid the gingerbread man’s head in that wreath in case someone came looking for it later. She only barely made it back to the kitchen before Cole arrived.”

Skylor snapped her fingers, excitedly jumping in.

“I get it! When we showed up in the kitchen to ask Zane about the cookies, she told us about Cole because she knew we’d find the head and think it was him.”

“Exactly! And it would’ve worked, too, if the tea hadn’t made me suspicious. The only thing I haven’t figured out is why….” Kai paused, staring at them, “Why did you do this, guys?”

Wu stood and walked over to him.

“To put it simply, we wanted to help you overcome your phobia of gingerbread people. It gets in the way of you spending time with your family and friends every year. I know it wasn’t a very kind thing to do, but I honestly felt it would be worth it in the end to see you enjoy the holidays a bit more.” he admitted, placing a hand on Kai’s shoulder.

“And I do believe it worked!” Pixal added, “although you were certainly annoyed, you didn’t seem frightened at any point this morning.”

Kai made a funny face as he thought about everything that had happened. However misguided Pixal and Wu’s plan had been… he didn’t feel the disgust and terror he was used to when he looked at the gingerbread man in his hand anymore.

“You know, I think you’re right… don’t get me wrong, I’m still kinda irritated that you thought this was a good idea. But… thanks.” he told them. Out of all the holiday adventures Kai had had, he was pretty sure this was the strangest. Later that day, after they had finally eaten lunch (much to Cole’s relief), he had to smile when Zane didn’t hesitate to hand him a gingerbread man to decorate. He set to work carefully frosting it so they it resembled a detective with a trench coat and fedora, proudly displaying it with the rest when he was finished. It was nice to see that gingerbread people weren’t so bad after all. Ninja Noir would be proud.

Hopefully this ridiculous story made someone smile today :) it was literally so fun to come up with hehe

#Ninjago #Ninjago fanfiction #my fics #ninjago Christmas #Kai loves detective novels #Who put a decapitated gingerbread man in his bed?#Yall are gonna have to read to find out #Pixal and wu just wanna help but are really bad at it #Cole eats frosting by the bowlful but can we blame him? No #You guys I am seriously so proud of this

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arecomicsevengood · 4 years

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Watching Movies In Self-Isolation, Part Two

L’Assassin Habite Au Rue 21 (1942), dir. Henri-Georges Clouzot. Clouzot is better known for directing The Wages Of Fear (the movie William Friedkin remade as Sorcerer) and Diabolique, but this is the first movie he directed. It’s a pretty effective comedy, as well as an Agatha Christie style murder-mystery thriller. It’s really cool to watch these things that feel like they are just “movies,” before a bunch of genre conventions got built up and put in place. This one’s also eighty minutes long, super-short. The premise of the movie is there’s a serial killer on the loose, leaving a business card on every dead body. A dude passes along to the police that he found a stash of the business cards in the attic of a boarding house, so the killer must live there. A police officer goes undercover as a priest moving into the boarding house to investigate the residents. His wife, an aspiring singer, has made a bet with him she can solve the crime first, and in doing so become a celebrity that will be hired to perform places, so she also moves into the boarding house, partly to annoy him. The stuff at the boarding house is basically the film’s second act, while the first and third act are more typical murder-mystery stuff, although the tone of comedy is maintained throughout, despite all the cold-blooded murders.

All These Women (1964), dir. Ingmar Bergman. Kind of dumb sex comedy directed by Ingmar Bergman, but with gorgeous Sven Nykvist cinematography, bright jewel-toned pastels, and sort of theatrical staging in spots seeming to foreshadow Parajanov’s The Color Of Pomegranates or eighties Greenaway stuff. About a critic who visits the palatial estate of a famous cellist to write a biography of him only to find a harem of women; the whole thing unfolding from the cellist’s funeral a few days later. The winking humor is both music-hall bawdy but in a way that feels self-aware or “meta” in the context of a sixties film.

The Touch (1971), dir. Ingmar Bergman. Bergman’s one of my favorites, many of his canonized classics resonate deeply with me, but he was also astonishingly prolific, with a bunch of movies of his blurring together in my mind, and even more that I didn’t know existed, like this English-language one, starring Elliott Gould. Gould’s another favorite of mine, being in a bunch of great movies in the sixties and seventies, but damn, he’s unlikable here. Unlikable characters “hit different” in older material because I’m not sure if you’re supposed to sympathize with them according to the sexist cultural attitudes of the day. Here he’s “the other man” Liv Ullman is cheating on Max Von Sydow (RIP) with, but he’s pretty emotionally abusive, just a shit to her, extremely demanding of her in a relationship he did nothing to earn, though it does feel like the movie is kind of treating him as a romantic lead.

The Anderson Tapes (1971), dir. Sidney Lumet. This is heist movie, starring Sean Connery as a dude fresh out of prison, planning to rob his girlfriend’s apartment building, costarring Christopher Walken in his first film role. It contains all the plot beats of a typical heist thing, all the satisfying “getting the gang together, planning things out in advance, chaotic elements interfere” stuff but also a totally superfluous bit of framing about like constant surveillance, video monitoring and audio tape. All this dystopian police-state stuff seems, implicitly, like it would make a crime impossible to execute, the criminals are monitored every step of the way, by assorted agencies. But then the punchline, after everyone’s arrested for reasons having nothing to do with that, is that all this recording is illegal and all the tapes should be erased as the high-profile nature of the case makes it likely the monitoring agencies will get caught. Sidney Lumet directs a good thriller, even though I don’t find Connery (or Dyan Cannon, who plays the girlfriend) particularly compelling.

The Testament Of Dr. Mabuse (1933), dir. Fritz Lang. I watched this years ago, after reading Matt Fraction praise it, particularly how skillful the transitions between scenes were, and I really enjoyed it, but didn’t remember much about it and was excited to rewatch it. It’s got a lot going for it: An exceedingly elaborate criminal plot whose only goal is to wreak chaos, low-level criminals caught up in something they’re morally unprepared to reckon with, a charismatic police detective interviewing a bunch of weirdos, Fritz Lang following up M by continuing to be a master of film and sound editing very early stitching it all together. The Mabuse character was previously the star of a silent film I haven’t watched, and here he’s mute, which is a clever choice I didn’t register until writing it out just now. He’s gone completely insane, but is nonetheless writing a journal filled with elaborate crime plots, and his psychologist is completely insane and following these directions, in a commentary on the rise of Nazism in Germany at the time.

House By The River (1950), dir. Fritz Lang. I watched this in the pre-Quarantine days, but it totally rules. Again, it feels sordid in part because of how old it is and my assumption you’re meant to identify on some level with the completely loathsome protagonist’s sexual desire and anger at getting turned down. It’s so creepy, he’s listening to the sound of his maid showering at one point. All the characters seem very fun to play, they’re all pretty cartoonish. This guy murder his maid, and then gets the idea that he should write a book about the murder when someone explains the idea of “writing what you know” to him, and he is then surprised when his wife reads the book and puts together that it’s a murder confession, saying something like “Really? I thought I disguised it pretty well.” The film functions as a dark comedy because every character is completely mortifying. Lang’s work becoming less ambitious and more reduced in budget during his time working in America is pretty sad but this movie feels legit deranged.

Midsommar (2019), Ari Aster. Heard good things about Hereditary, but haven’t watched it yet, having been put off by the plot summary of Aster’s preceding short film, about a kid who rapes his dad. This is like a longer version of The Wicker Man, basically, starring Florence Pugh, who I had heard was like the new actress everyone’s enamored with, but didn’t think was that compelling in this. A bunch of Americans go to a Swedish village, one of them (played by Chidi from The Good Place) has studied their anthropology extensively, but all are unprepared for the fact that their whole culture seems to revolve around human sacrifice and having sex with outsiders so they don’t become totally inbred. There’s a monstrously deformed, cognitively impaired child who’s been bred specifically so his abstract splashings of paint can be interpreted as culture-defining profound lore, which I took away as being comparable to the role Joe Biden plays within the death cult of the DNC.

Long Day’s Journey Into Night (2019), dir. Bi Gan. This got a lot of acclaim, but I am almost certain the main reason I watched it is because the director made a list of his favorite movies and included Masaaki Yuasa’s anime series Kemonozume on it. Does a sort of bisected narrative thing, where half of the movie is this sort of fragmented crime thing, a little hard to follow, and then you get the title card, and then the second half is this pretty dreamlike atmospheric piece done in a single shot, with a moving camera. I’m not the sort to jerk off over long shots, although I appreciate the large amount of technical pre-planning that goes into pulling them off. The second part is pretty compelling though, enveloping, I guess it was in 3-D at certain theatrical screenings? I’m a little unclear on how my fucked-up eyes can deal with 3-D these days and I was never that into it. The first half is easy to turn off and walk away from, the second half isn’t but I’m unsure on how much it amounts to beyond its atmosphere.

Black Sun (1964), dir. Koreyoshi Kurahara. This one’s about a Japanese Jazz fan and dirtbag squatter who meets a black American soldier who’s gone crazy and AWOL. He loves him because he loves Jazz and all Black people, but the soldier is pretty crazy and can’t understand him anyway. Jazz is, or was, huge in Japan and this is a cooler depiction of that fandom than you get in Murakami novels but it’s a fairly uncomfortable watch, I guess because the black dude seems so crazy it feels a little racist to an American audience? Maybe he wasn’t being directed that well because there would be a language barrier but it’s weird.

Honestly the thing to watch from sixties Japan on The Criterion Channel is Black Lizard (1962), dir. Umetsugu Inoue, which I watched shortly after Trump’s election in 2016, when all the Criterion stuff was still on Hulu, and it cheered me up considerably in those dark days. It feels a little like The Abominable Dr. Phibes, but with a couple musical numbers, and is about a master detective who thinks crime is super-cool and wishes there was a criminal who would challenge his intellect. Then the Black Lizard kidnaps someone. It’s a lot of fun, with a tone that feels close to camp but is so knowing and smart it feels more genuinely strange and precise. One of those things you get fairly often where the Japanese outsider’s take on American genre stuff gets what it’s about more deeply and so feels like it’s operating on a higher level. I really love this movie.

I had this larger point I wanted to make about just feeling repulsed by genre stuff that self-consciously attempts to mimic its canonical influences and that might not be all the way present in this post. Still, something that really should be implicit when talking about movies from the past is that they are not superhero movies, and how repulsed I am by that particular genre’s domination of cinema right now, and how much of cinema has a history of something far looser and more freewheeling in its ideas of how to make work that appealed to a broad audience, and how much weird formal playfulness can be understood intuitively by an audience without being offputting, and the sort of spirit of formal interrogation connects the films I like to the comics I like (as well as the books I like, and the visual art I like), this sense of doing something that can only be done within that medium even as certain other aspects translate.

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idreamofhazel · 6 years

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What Could’ve Been and What Will Be

If you’re wondering why this is being posted, may I direct you here?

Summary: A case brings you and Sam back together two years after he rescued you from a Djinn. It’s a bittersweet reunion that leaves you with some choices to make.

Pairing: Sam x reader, italics are reader’s POV

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: a little angsty, some fluff

This was originally posted in four parts.

Author’s note: This is the very piece of Supernatural fanfiction I ever wrote and posted back in April 2016. This story basically made me obsessed with writing. It’s the reason you’re stuck with me almost three years later! Please take any cringiness in stride.

The dim light of the library and the comforting smell of old books was making Sam drowsy, but he continued to search for cases on his laptop. One in particular had caught his eye. After spending a couple of minutes staring at the bright screen that was fatiguing his eyes, debating on whether to mention this one to Dean or not, he finally spoke up.

“Hey Dean, I think I’ve got something,” Sam said, looking up from his laptop.

Mumbling through a mouth full of cheeseburger, Dean said, “Yeah, what is it?”

“There’s been a few disappearances in a small town in Indiana. All of them have been young women, each about 2 or 3 weeks apart. Could be nothing, but we could at least check it out.”

The name of this small town sent Sam’s memory and emotions into a flurry. He kept this from Dean, though. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, and yet he also hoped this case would turn out to be nothing, for your sake.

(Y/N).

He hadn’t thought about you in such a long time, having pushed his memories and feelings about you under the surface in order to protect you from this kind of life. The hunting life. He hoped this potential case wouldn’t jeopardize that. Of course, he didn’t even know if you still lived in the same town. Maybe you had moved on to something better. He hoped you had.

“Eh, why not. We’ve been stuck in this bunker for awhile anyway. How far away is it?” Dean asked while stretching his arms behind his head and then getting up from his chair at the table. The sudden screech of the chair legs across the floor jolted Sam awake from his thoughts.

“Uh...about 10 hours,” Sam answered, unsure if Dean would agree to check out this possible hunt, knowing how far away it is. But Sam had a hunch about what could be happening in this town. He decided to to wait on revealing anything to Dean, though. After all, this could be a completely different monster than last time, or maybe it was just humans.

“Wow. Why this case? Isn’t there something closer we could check out?”

“Not that I found. It’s this or nothing.” That wasn’t entirely truthful, though. Sure, there were some other small leads closer to Kansas, but Sam knew there was a higher possibility of this case turning out to be a hunt.

“Ok, ok,” Dean grumbled, “I’ll start packing stuff up. We can leave in the morning.”

Dean left the library. Sam stayed behind, staring at the laptop screen, but letting his mind wander to the last time he was in the town that him and Dean were about to travel to.

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“This has been the fourth disappearance in 6 weeks. Catherine Smith went missing two days ago from her campus apartment. Her roommate had just returned from a weekend trip and noticed that...”

You promptly changed the channel. You had heard about a couple of the other disappearances. They were all over the news, but you tried to ignore them. It’s not that you didn’t care about the victims, but you had done so well to rebuild your life after what happened two years ago, so you tried to stay away from anything that could trigger the memories you had been successful in conquering lately. Even if these disappearances turned out to be just a serial killer, or a even a coincidence, it was best if you stayed away from anything that suggested “supernatural” for now. You turned your focus to the movie that was now on the screen. Another one of those cheesy, romantic tv movies. You watched it anyway. It was sort of a guilty pleasure of yours.

After dinner, you felt so exhausted from your long day at work and your full stomach that you decided to turn in for the night. It was only 9:30, but you thought that even if you didn’t get out much, you at least had your life together with a stable job. That’s the best you could ask for right now considering what you had been through. After checking all the locks on the doors and windows, you washed up, changed into some shorts and a t-shirt, turned on some quiet piano music, and got into bed. The copious amount of pillows around you comforted you and made you feel as if you were in your own, safe cocoon, far away from any monsters. Drifting off to sleep, your mind wandered to a face you hadn’t seen in quite some time…

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Dean’s insanely fast driving turned what was supposed to be a ten and a half hour trip into a seven hour trip. It was a wonder that Dean never got pulled over. He and Sam reached their destination around noon, found a motel, and settled in. The long drive had afforded Sam plenty of time to mull over his memories of you and allow his imagination to slowly drift to the possibility of seeing you again. Dean had noticed Sam’s absentmindedness during the drive and even while they were unpacking at the motel. He had barely spoken since they hit the road this morning. Something was definitely up with Sam today.

“Hey Sam?” Dean said. He and Sam were sitting in their motel room gathering any last minute information they could before heading out to start investigating the kidnappings.

Looking up from his laptop, Sam replied, “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Everything ok? You seem a little…distracted. You sure you’re up for a possible hunt? We need to be focused”

“Uh, no, I’m…I mean, yeah, everything’s good. I’m definitely focused on the case.”

That much was true. Sam was probably more focused on this case than any other one he’d been on lately, except maybe for the ones involving Amara. Sam had been searching for you on the internet, trying to find any information at all that would help him protect you if needed. When Dean interrupted his search, Sam had just found your address. You still lived in town. Sam’s heart sank and rose all at the same time. He might see you again, but at what cost?

“Ok, well let’s go to the police station and get the names of the families we’re supposed to interview. Hopefully the drive here was worth it,” Dean offered.

“Sure, yeah. Good idea,” Sam agreed, rubbing his hands over his eyes and then getting up from his chair. He pulled out his suit from his bag and began to change.

“Ma’am, we understand this is difficult, but the FBI has some new leads that might possibly help us solve this case and find out what happened to your daughter.”

Sam was always able to get even the most reluctant person to open up to him. His skills in this area were invaluable to his and Dean’s work. Dean had spent most of the day as Sam’s assistant, watching while Sam easily and softly got the victims’ families to talk to him about the most difficult time of their lives. Right now, Sam was talking to the mother of the third victim. The first two victims’ bodies had already been discovered. Sam knew it was only a matter of time until the police found the third one too, but he couldn’t find it in himself to completely crush this mother’s hopes.

“Do you…do you think she could still be alive?” Mrs. Riley questioned from behind her tear-soaked tissue.

Hesitantly, Sam looked at her and, with the most sincerity he could muster, he replied, “As long as they haven’t found her…her body yet, there’s still hope.”

Mrs. Riley nodded, looking down at the floor. Dean and Sam glanced at each other, signaling that it was time to move on to the next house.

Sam and Dean thanked Mrs. Riley for her time, went out to the Impala, and drove to their next destination. Dean had yet to discover a connection between the victims or any leads that suggested creatures other than humans being involved, but Sam’s head was churning with possible explanations. However, he was going to wait until they interviewed the fourth family before telling Dean about any of the information he knew.

Pulling up to the driveway, the lot was tranquil and suburban. A large willow tree swayed in the wind in front of the picturesque gray house. Flowers lined the front of the house and hung from pots on the porch. Memories of when Sam questioned your friend’s family in their home about your disappearance hit him like a brick wall, making the scene hard to take in. This house looked so similar. Sam remembered finding out that you didn’t have much of a family anymore. Your friend and her parents had become your own surrogate family ever since your mom died. Your mother’s death hit you hard and you slipped into a dark period of your life. You loved to read and spend time in the quiet, alone with your own thoughts. You eventually found peace in this. Sam remembered showing a slight smile in that moment when he was told this, recognizing that he completely understood that need. You had gone to the library the day you disappeared. Thinking back, it was unfortunate that he hadn’t found out all of this information from you.

"Man, are you sure we need to talk to this family? I'm just not getting anything from this case." Dean was becoming frustrated and bored. He was ready to move onto a real case.

"I really think we need to talk to the last victim's family. Everything is still fresh in their minds. They could remember something more helpful," Sam argued.

Huffing, Dean got out of the car and walked up to the door. Sam swiftly followed. The door was answered quickly by a woman, the mother. The two brothers flashed their badges and she welcomed them in and offered them something to drink.

"No, thank you, Mrs. Smith. We don't want to take up too much of your time, really. We just need to ask you a few questions. The FBI has a new angle for the case, so we just need some more information," Sam said to Mrs. Smith.

"Of course, please, ask whatever you need to if it helps bring my daughter home safely."

Sam and Dean ran through the usual questions--cold spots, weird noises in the walls, sulfur smell--just to make sure this case fit with the rest. They asked about her daughter, what she had been up to lately, and how her life was going. Everything Catherine's mother said was positive. She was doing well in college, had a great boyfriend, and was on the college basketball team. She had recently moved in with a roommate in order to make the last step toward adulthood: being out on her own. Her disappearance couldn't have come at a worse time. Catherine's life reminded Sam of your own. You had already graduated college when he met you, but you were just starting over again in your life. You had a new job, your own place. Your family had revealed all this to Sam. They were devastated by your disappearance. You had been able to overcome your mothers death and move on from your grief, only to be kidnapped and have your own life threatened...

At the end of the interview, Mrs. Smith asked Sam to let her know of any changes in the case and he agreed. Sam and Dean left and returned to the motel.

"I don't know, Sam. I don't see anything weird about this case. I don't think it's our type of thing," Dean said, "What are you thinking?"

Sam replied, "I want to talk to Catherine's roommate. Her mom seemed to think everything was fine, but this roommate could have some different information."

Sam had already begun to piece this case together. It was so similar to last time. Each of the young women who had been taken were just starting out on their lives, but still struggling with something. He just needed to be sure all the disappearances fit this description.

"Sure, whatever," Dean grumbled, "You go do that. I'm taking a nap. But if there's nothing, we're leaving."

Sam nodded and headed out the door. He was beginning to think he was going to have to tell Dean about the last time he worked this case. He would keep you a secret though. The less involved you were with this monster, the better.

Catherine’s roommate had a very different story to tell. Even though she was reluctant to tell Sam about Catherine’s recent misfortunes, Sam eventually pulled the information from her.

Catherine’s issues started about a month ago. Her boyfriend broke up with her and the heartbreak caused her grades to slip. She got suspended from the basketball team, but kept all of this from her parents. She had felt a lot of pressure from them to succeed in college, but she had hit a rough spot. Her roommate also let Sam know that she had starting talking to another man. The roommate never saw him around, but Catherine would go to see him often. He hadn’t called about Catherine since her disappearance, though. With all of this information in hand, Sam knew without a doubt, the monster had returned.

Before going back to the hotel, Sam drove to a small park and gave himself a few minutes to think about what he was going to do next, to think about you.

You still lived in town. The monster was back. There was no guarantee that he would come after you again, but Sam had to make sure you were safe. His thoughts flashed back to when he found you last time, tied up and barely alive. He saved you just in time. His priority was to get you out safely and he knew he couldn’t do that and go after the monster at the same time. He was hunting alone and so he sacrificed killing the monster in that moment in order to get you to a hospital. He remembered how brave you were, how, with all the strength your weak and tired body could muster, you tried to sit up in his car, to speak, to tell him about your abductor. You had said, “You’re probably going to think I’m crazy but...” Sam had stopped you and explained that he knew all about the monsters. When you both got to the hospital, Sam tenderly carried you through the doors and held you until nurses came with a cot and wheeled you away. He explained how he found you as an FBI agent and told the nurses that he needed to stay with you. They cleaned you up and checked for broken bones and any other serious problems.

Sam admired how calm you stayed, allowing the nurses and doctors to check every inch of you for injuries. You answered their questions, quickly coming up with a decent cover story, leaving out all details of anything non-human. He remembered thinking that you were so intelligent. When the hospital staff was done getting you set up in a room, Sam pulled a chair up to your bed and asked you your name.

“(Y/N),” she answered softly, “I can’t thank you enough-”

Sam had put his hand up to say that you didn’t need to thank him. You smiled at him--god, your smile was so beautiful--and nodded as if to say that you understood that this was Sam’s job. He didn’t need a thank you right now. He had only needed to know you would be ok. He asked you what the doctors had said about your condition. You checked out fine, you were just dehydrated and had suffered from blood loss. You were able to go home in a couple of days as long as there were no complications. Sam stayed with you until evening. He didn’t want to leave, but the monster was still out there. Sam explained to you that he had to go. You would be ok, but he was going to leave town after he finished up here. You had seemed to understand. He couldn’t believe how understanding you were in that moment. It’s as if you already knew what kind of life he led. You amazed Sam, with your calm demeanor, your intelligence, your understanding, and with your beauty. Sam had no idea how someone who had just been through hell could still look so beautiful only a few hours after escaping it.

When Sam got up to leave, he took your hand and held it for a moment, smiling at you. He laid it gently back onto the bed and then walked to the door.

You stopped him. “Wait,” you said, “I don’t know your name.”

He turned around, the corners of his mouth slowly curving upward, and he gladly answered, “It’s Sam.”

Sam never found the monster again. He tracked it for three more days, but it had vanished.

A buzz from Sam’s phone brought him back to the present. It was Dean.

“Hey, where are you? Is everything ok? You’ve been gone for hours.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I’ve just been thinking, trying to piece together this case. I’m on my way back now. The roommate’s information was really helpful. I know what we’re hunting.”

“We’re hunting a djinn,” declared Sam.

He had returned to the motel after Dean called him. Dean highly doubted that this case would turn out to be a hunt, but Sam knew otherwise. He decided it was time to reveal what he knew to Dean.

“What? How do think that?” Dean asked, the surprise in his voice unmasked.

“I’ve hunted it before.”

If Sam didn’t have Dean’s attention before, he certainly did now.

“What do you mean you’ve hunted it before? You didn’t think that was a good idea to tell me before we talked to all those families? We could’ve already ganked this thing!” Dean voices was terse and agitated.

Sam had already thought of his response. “I needed to be sure. I didn’t want to hunt after something that wasn’t there. I thought I could just, I don’t know, play it by ear, see what happens.”

Dean relaxed a bit, but was still visibly annoyed that Sam hadn’t just told him this from the get-go. “Well, how do you know it’s here now? And when did you hunt this stupid genie anyway?”

“It was after Kevin’s death, when you took off. I worked a couple cases while you were gone. I came across the stories about the kidnappings and decided to check it out. And now the same exact pattern is happening again.”

“And what pattern is that exactly?”

“The djinn finds young women who are struggling in life, who would easily succumb to his promises of something different, something better. He disguises himself as a human, like that djinn that almost got you, Brigitta. He gets to know them and then, when he has their trust, he takes them to his hideout and uses his magic on them. It happened this way last time and it’s happening again. Every woman who’s been taken has been struggling with something or had a tragedy happen recently.”

“What about Catherine? Her mother seemed to think everything was peachy.”

“Yes, even her. Her roommate told me she was recently dumped, starting failing her classes, and got suspended from the basketball team. And she started talking to some ‘mystery guy’ who the roommate never saw come around.”

Dean began to put the pieces together himself. “Ok, so this creep finds women who are at the worst points of their lives and then feeds off of them? Great. We’re hunting a sociopathic djinn with a ‘type.’”

“I know.”

“Sammy...why didn’t you off this guy the first go around?”

Sam knew exactly what to say to get Dean off his case. “I-I was hunting alone. He was stronger than I expected. He knocked me out and when I woke up he was gone. I tried tracking him, but he vanished. I thought he’d skipped town.”

“So this guy is extra creepy because he’s still obsessed with this town and these women. We need to do this right this time. Do you think he’d hole up in the same place?”

“I don’t know if he’d be dumb enough to do that, but it wouldn’t hurt to check. Let’s get the addresses of any other abandoned places in town and check out a few of them tonight. We can’t waste any more time, he’s still got Catherine.”

“Sam, we don’t exactly have an endless supply of lamb’s blood lying around to use. Why don’t you check the addresses while I go to some butcher shops or something and see if I can get the blood.” That was going to be an amusing conversation, Dean thought.

“Ok, good plan.”

Sam, stretching out across one of the dingy motel beds began to quickly search for any building in the area that the djinn might use to hide his victims. Dean took off to get the supplies.

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(Earlier that same day)

At the office, you couldn’t stop thinking about the disappearances. Fliers were posted on the streets, local news channels were constantly updating the public, and your co-workers wouldn’t stop discussing it. You couldn’t escape any of it. Your thoughts were running circles in your head all morning. What if it was that man again? Or some other horrible monster? You never did find out the name of that creature or if Sam had finally caught up to him.

Sam...

He was in your dreams last night, a blur of tender, caring gestures and smiles. This dream was just like the day he rescued you, hazy and surreal from the effects of what you had just experienced. Your brain took a leap of faith: What if he was in town hunting again?

“(Y/N)! Helloooo? Hey!” A hand was snapping in front of your face almost on queue to tell you that your imagination was being unreasonable. It was your co-worker, Grace.

“Geez, what has gotten into you today? You’re never this spacey. I’ve been trying to get your attention for like five minutes! I need you to run to FedEx and pick up the new business cards for the office. They just came in and the boss doesn’t want to wait for them to be delivered,” Grace explained.

“Oh, wow, I’m sorry. I’m just... really tired, I didn’t sleep well at all last night. Those crazy callers from yesterday really stressed me out. I’ll go run and do that right now,” you replied, lying about the reason for your zoning out.

“Bad sleep” couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, you had slept more peacefully last night than any other night you could remember. As you drove off to pick up the office’s order, you remembered that Sam had that effect on you.

After being bound and drained of your blood for three days, slipping in and out of alternate realities, quickly losing track of what was real and what wasn’t, you were frightened and anxious, to say the least. You don’t really remember Sam coming into the warehouse or untying you. You came-to in his car, though, a bump jolting you awake. You began to panic, trying to explain what happened because you needed to know whether you were crazy or not, but as soon as you felt Sam’s hand on your shoulder and his calm voice reassure you, you were able to settle down. You’d never felt weaker in your entire life and you began to feel dizzy from the blood-loss. Adrenaline rushing through your brain and into your muscles had given you the last shot of energy to sit up and speak, but after laying back down, you succumbed to the overwhelming fatigue that was weighing down on you. The next thing you remember was laying in a hospital bed, being wheeled down the hall. Again, anxiety began to sweep over you until you saw your mystery man walking right beside the bed. You didn’t know if it was his smile, his soft touch, or the sheer fact that he had confirmed you weren’t crazy that made you unusually calm around him. He smiled down at you reassuringly.

His presence in the room made the doctor’s examinations and questions much easier to get through. You had to make up a convincing story about your abduction and injuries, so sometimes you could feel panic starting to rise up in your chest, your heart beginning to beat faster. All you had to do, though, was look over at Sam and you were reminded that there was someone else who knew all about this crazy world you had just been introduced to. You didn’t have to experience this alone and in ignorance. You were so thankful that he told you the truth about what had happened to you. Otherwise, returning to reality would’ve been even more difficult than it had been.

When Sam said he had to leave, you understood why. You knew that this monster needed to be hunted. You just wished that Sam could stay a little bit longer. Your family would be here soon, though. You replayed your last memory of him over and over again as you drove through the city. He had stopped at the sound of your voice, turning around to look at you. Time seemed to slow, and with an intense gaze and soft smile, he answered your request to at least know his name, “It’s Sam.”

That was the last time you heard his voice or saw his face. For a few days, everything seemed fine. You went back home after being released from the hospital. The police assured you that they would catch the guy who did this to you. Your family helped you put new locks on the doors and windows of your house for extra protection. They purchased an alarm system for you as well. You went back to work after a few days of recovery, but that’s when things started to go downhill.

Once you were back out into the real world, every man who looked like your abductor sent chills down your spine and anxiety pulsing through your veins. You began to see him everywhere. In the corner of your eye. In the man on the street who’s face you couldn’t see. At home, any unknown sounds sent you into panic mode. The creak of a floorboard, the wind hitting your screen door, any of it could be that “thing” coming back to finish the job. You couldn’t get his glowing blue eyes out of your head. They haunted you in your dreams, keeping you from sleep. Eventually, it became so bad that you stopped going to work. Venturing outside seemed too dangerous and you had begun to have panic attacks when something reminded you of your kidnapping. You stayed home everyday, depressed by the constant fear in your life and your debilitating condition. It was at this point when your family made you get help. They convinced you to see a doctor who specialized in this type of thing. You were reluctant to talk to her, but within a few minutes of chatting together, you felt you could trust her. She gave you a name to what was happening to you. A name you could use to target your efforts against. PTSD.

With the therapist’s help, you slowly but surely began to heal. She helped lessen your reactions to your triggers, teaching you how to relax. Since you wouldn’t be able to face your attacker and conquer your fear in-person, she suggested you take self-defense classes so you could not only learn how to protect yourself, but you could also imagine every punch, every kick, every hit landing onto your abductor. You took her advice and enrolled in a self-defense class, a martial arts class, and a course on guns. You put all your time and energy into perfecting your fighting skills. One year later, you left therapy and returned to a new job and a new home. During the next year, your life changed even more. Your best friend had gotten married and moved to New York for a job offer. Her parents retired and spent most of their time traveling. Sometimes your anxiety would seep back into your body, especially since your life felt like it was in a constant flux, but you had it under control. You knew it was only natural to feel this way after experiencing a trauma. And you knew what to do if the day ever came when you had to face this monster head-on.

Your trip to FedEx took a little longer than expected. The employee seemed annoyed that you had come to pick up the package early, but you told him that you were under “boss’ orders.” You went back to work and finished the rest of the day on a good note. Grace invited you out for drinks after work. You almost agreed to go, but decided against it.

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The first two abandoned warehouses were empty. Sam and Dean were making their way around town, checking out each place on their list. The next one was the djinn’s original place, though. Sam became restless and anxious, fidgeting with his shirt, tapping his fingers on the inside of the Impala’s door. Dean kept his focus on the road. It wasn’t a long drive to this warehouse. It was located in the downtown area of the city, surrounded by other dingy looking buildings. The air was cool and the moon shone bright in the sky, just like last time. Sam took in a sharp breath of air as they approached the warehouse. He became visibly nervous as they began walking to the door. Memories of finding you here, hanging lifeless by your hands from ropes tied to the rafters, your skin ashy white and your head hanging limp, flooded Sam’s mind.

“Dude, what is up with you tonight? Are you sure you’re up for this?” Dean questioned.

“I- yeah, I just have a weird feeling about this place,” Sam answered as they pushed the creaky door open and stepped inside.

Their eyes took a minute to adjust, the moonlit sky outside a sharp contrast to the darkness inside. They got out their flashlights and began their search. The floorboards creaked and protested underneath their feet, the sounds of mice scurrying in the dark could be heard. Moonlight peered through brief holes in the wall, showing how much dust and decay was drifting down from the ceiling. Sam came upon the hall that led to the room where he found you last. He paused, took a deep breath, and started towards the door. He slowly and hesitantly pushed it open while holding a gun in one hand.

“Dean come here!” Sam shouted. Dean sprinted at the sound of Sam’s alarmed voice.

Catherine was there. She looked just like you did when he found you. Sam quickly ran over to cut her down. Dean looked around the room, watching for the djinn. He spotted a wall littered with papers and pictures that looked much newer than the building they were in. Dean went closer to inspect the collage.

“Sam, come here. This is weird.”

Sam was already calling 911. He finished the call and gently laid Catherine down. He walked over to where Dean was standing. Pictures of all the women who had been abducted were taped haphazardly to the wall. Tidbits of scribbled information were scattered in spaces between the photos. And then Sam saw it. Circled and placed directly in the center. Your address.

“Dean, we need to go. Now.”

Almost as if on cue, sirens could be heard in the distance. Thankfully the ambulances responded unusually quickly this time.

“Ok, just stay here with the girl while I go out to the paramedics. We’ll go as soon as they take her,” Dean said, puzzled by Sam’s reaction. He could tell Sam was being serious, though, and he trusted his brother’s instincts.

Dean showed his badge to the EMTs and explained that they were FBI agents working on the kidnapping case. He told them they had to leave because the suspect was on the loose. He showed them to the room where Sam was kneeling down beside Catherine, making sure she was ok. As soon as the paramedics reached her, Sam got up and bolted straight through the door, his eyes staring only straight ahead. Dean ran after him and they got into the car.

“We need to to that address right now. And fast,” Sam said while gripping the inside of the Impala, his knuckles turning white.

Starting up the engine, Dean said, “Ok, can you just tell me what’s going on? I’ve never seen you leave a victim that fast.”

“I’ll explain later. Just drive.”

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Part of you wished you had gone with Grace and some other coworkers to the bar, but you weren’t really sure about making friends with them. And you had a few things to do around the house. And a new episode of your favorite show was on tonight. Maybe those were excuses for not wanting to be social, maybe they were legitimate reasons, but, whatever they were, for now you were content to stay at home. Long hours at the office, constantly talking on the phone and discussing work, drained you anyway. Once you were home, you changed into a comfortable pair of jeans and a t-shirt and began to check items off your to-do list. Clean out old leftovers: check. Take the trash out to the curb: Check. Go through the mail and file away anything important: Check.

You threw a frozen pizza into the oven and grabbed a wine glass out of cabinet. Super classy, you thought, grocery store wine and a frozen pizza. But you enjoyed it. You had finished your housework just in time to watch your show. Pouring the wine, you looked out the window above your counter. You had some doubts about your life lately. You wondered if all the stability you had built up around yourself was just a facade. You felt an uneasiness in your stomach as you thought that, at any moment, it could all come crashing down. What if… You shook your head, trying to snap yourself out of this endless waterfall of thoughts. You sat on the couch again to watch your show, kicking off your shoes. During a commercial break, you checked on dinner. Not ready yet. Your show came back on, so you left the kitchen. You sat there, content for the time being although your stomach was nagging you for dinner.

Then you heard it. A noise. Was it the tv? No, it sounded too close. You paused the show, freezing, your hand suspended in mid-air holding the remote, hairs standing up on your neck, muscles tensed.

Silence.

You heard it again, like someone trying to jimmy open a window. You set the remote on the couch and slowly tiptoed to your room at the end of the dark hall, past the bathroom where you could clearly hear someone trying to open the window. The alarm. You forgot to set it for the night. Crap. Your cell phone. Sitting on the couch. You opened the closet door and reached up to the shelf, grabbing your gun. You soundlessly slipped the clip in.

No. No. No. No. No. NO. This- can’t be- happening- again. Your thoughts in rhythm with your breaths. Pull yourself together. Sweat was on your palms, adrenaline in your veins. Your beating heart was like a drum in your head, thumping like an ominous drum roll working up to the crescendo of an attacker. Clink. The now useless lock on the bathroom window hit the tile. Two footsteps hit the floor. Creaking. The bathroom door slowly swung open. You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths. Just like you practiced. Just like you practiced. The gun was steadied. Hand on the trigger. You opened your eyes. Two glowing blue orbs danced down the hall towards you. A smile slowly revealed in the moonlight through a window gave way to the full image of him.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

No hesitation. Your aim was true. Three bullets hit him right where they should. Except…What? No! How is that possible? It didn’t phase him. He continued his advance.

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The Impala squealed to a stop outside of your house.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Dean and Sam’s heads jerked towards the house then towards each other. They flew out of the car, sprinting to your door. Dean wasted no time in kicking it open. Knives in hand, they scanned your living room. Crash. Was that glass? “Y/N!” Sam yelled out. Dean had no time to question how Sam knew your name. They were already down the hall. They stopped. Their eyes followed the scene through the doorway. You were fighting.

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You fell backwards into a mirror, shattering it.

No. This wasn’t going to be it. Did someone call your name?

The man was closing in on you again. You pushed yourself off the wall.

You were ending this. Somehow.

You threw a punch.

Surprise, jerk.

The monster wiped blood off his nose, shocked but amused. Your martial arts training kicked in. You blocked his hits.

Yeah. Gotta get in another hit. Ah!

You drew in air as your foot stepped on a piece of broken glass. A distraction.

Wham.

Your back slammed into the wall again, then your head.

What the…

Your eyes opened barely enough to see your attacker thump to the ground lifeless, a tall figure looming over him.

“Y/N!”

Yeah... someone had definitely called your name…

Darkness.

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Sam carried you out of the room and laid you on the couch, checking you for any serious cuts.

“Dean, find some bandages or something. Her foot is cut,” Sam ordered.

There would be time for questions soon. Dean rummaged through your kitchen drawers. Having no luck, he headed to the bathroom next. Success. He handed the bandages and some hydrogen peroxide to Sam. Sam began to clean your wound and bandage it. He propped your foot up on a couple pillows to help slow the bleeding. He released a stream of air through rounded lips. You were ok.

“What is that smell…” Dean said as him and Sam glanced around the house. Smoke was hazing in from the kitchen. Sam ran into the room. The oven was on and inside was your burnt pizza. Sam quickly turned the oven off and took out the blackened food, coughing and waving smoke from his face. He went back into the living room, stoic, but tensed.

“She was cooking a pizza,” Sam said, unconcerned about the charred food, fully fixated on you.

Dean nodded and then began to question Sam. Enough was enough. “Sam, do you mind telling me what’s going on here? You know this girl?”

Sam relaxed his shoulders and looked up at Dean, “Yeah, I do.”

“Ok…do you mind enlightening me on how exactly you know her?”

“I…She was one of the women from the last case. I found her in the warehouse, just like Catherine.”

“And you didn’t tell me this because…?”

“I was trying to protect her. I didn’t want to drag her back into this mess.”

Dean didn’t say what he was thinking. Sam already knew it. The look was plastered on his face. This could have been prevented if Sam came to protect you sooner.

You moaned. Sam rushed to your side. Dean watched closely, analyzing his brother’s actions as he got onto his knees so he could be closer to your eye level.

“Sam…I don’t, I don’t understand…why…what…who is that?” Your vision was adjusting, your head pounded. Everything was confusing.

“This is my brother, Dean,” Sam said as he stroked hair out of your face, “We were tracking the djinn. He- it was hunting you. We got here just in time.”

“You know, I had it handled,” you joked, smiling playfully as you became oriented again.

Sam’s head bowed as he grinned. He didn’t know you could be so sarcastic, but he liked it. Oh, how you had missed his smile.

Dean observed you two, noticing how Sam was attentive to your every word, how he never broke gaze with you. He saw how you relaxed in his presence, how you talked to him as if you had known him your entire life. Dean’s stomach dropped. This was going to be a hard case to leave. Better not prolong the inevitable then.

Sam was reassuring you, “You’re safe now, ok? He’s not coming-”

Dean cleared his throat. “I hate to break up this reunion, but Sam, it’s late and we should get back to the motel to pack up.”

Sam’s smile faded, his hands dropped. He stood up.

“You’re going to be ok. Your foot should-” he began.

“Wait, what? You guys are just going to up and leave after all of this?” you demanded to know, looking from Dean to Sam. You had gained full consciousness again and, in that moment, something inside of you was resurrected, a drive, a push. You hadn’t felt this spark since before your mom died. You had become content, placid, stagnant. You suddenly were sick of it. You didn’t understand everything that had happened, you barely knew these people standing in your living room, but there was absolutely no way you were letting them waltz out of your life without a decent explanation. And Sam, you knew something was there between the two of you. What it was, what it could’ve been, you didn’t know. But you were determined to make something out of it now. You had a second chance.

Sam looked at his feet, “It’s better if we don’t stick around…”

“Bull. You can’t just storm in here, kill a man, a monster, whatever it is, and then leave me like nothing happened. I want an explanation!” You were almost shouting. Dean raised his eyebrows, impressed at your audacity.

“Well, what would you like to know then, sweetheart?” he said, trying not to grin.

You should’ve thought this through. What would you ask first? Questions swam in your head.

“I want to know if…if you guys would like to go out to eat?” You had no idea what compelled you to say that, but you rolled with it. You were feeling a bit reckless after tonight’s brawl and your emotions were in flux because of Sam.

“You what?” Sam asked, pleasantly surprised.

“You heard me.”

Dean tried to argue, “Look, we can talk here right now-”

“No,” you interrupted, “I’m starving. I’ve been through a lot. I’m sure you guys need something to eat too. Besides, I don’t think my pizza is any good anymore.” You signaled towards the kitchen.

Sam smirked, Dean rolled his eyes, but relented.

“Fine,” he huffed, “Dinner and then we’re done. But I’m picking the place.”

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“So, why didn’t my bullets stop this thing?” you said, looking at Sam with a mouth full of food.

“Djinn have to be killed in a particular way. Most creatures do. For a djinn, it’s a knife dipped in lamb’s blood,” Sam explained

“So I really didn’t have it handled back there?” You laughed, attempting to muffle the thought that you might not have actually made it out of alive.

“Well, you were doing pretty good,” Sam encouraged you, noticing the slight falter in your tone, “I didn’t know you could fight.”

“I learned how to, after, you know, everything that happened.”

Sam’s face softened with sadness, his eyes looking at you with sincere concern, but he and Dean were both taken with your determination.

“So, any more questions?” Dean asked you, eager to get on the road and put this all behind him and Sammy. It was probably going to be even harder for him to leave you now.

“I think that’s all. Thanks for sticking around,” you smiled although you knew this all was about to end. Sam was about to leave your life again.

Dean took one last drink and set his cup on the table then slid out of the booth. Sam followed. You stood up, facing them, not sure what to do next.

“Well, kiddo, stay safe. Although I’m sure if anyone tries anything, you’ll know how to handle it,” Dean said to you. You smiled in return, nodding in agreement.

You turned to Sam. What could possibly be said now, in this moment? He took you by surprise and wrapped his arms around you. You tensed up at first, but relaxed into his impromptu embrace. You rested your head on his chest. He was so much taller than you. You hadn’t realized it until now. He kissed the top of your head lightly.

“Stay safe, ok?”

“I will.”

His arms slowly fell to his sides, brushing along yours as they lowered. The two brothers walked away. You stood there and watched them leave, you were watching Sam walk out of your life again, just like the last time. You felt more like a spectator than a participant. But now you were being torn in all directions, you felt a pounding inside your chest, your brain and heart at war. What was here for you? A job you hated. Acquaintances you never went out with. A lonely, achingly silent house.

You bolted out the door, just in time to see Sam pulling his legs into the Impala, “Wait!”

He paused then got out of the car. Dean turned to look at you then followed Sam’s lead. You ran, stopping by the door.

“Take me with you.”

Sam’s face twisted in heartache, confusion, and hopefulness.

“Whoah, whoah whoah,” Dean protested, “Not gonna happen.”

You felt like the air had just been sucked from your lungs. This had been a big, embarrassing mistake.

“Why- why not?” Your voice was small and weak now.

“Because this life isn’t pretty. You don’t know the first thing about what it takes to do what we do,” Dean answered. His tone showed no mercy.

“Then show me, teach me. I’m a fast learner. You saw me back there, I can fight.”

“It takes a lot more than that.”

You turned to Sam now.

“Y/N, this isn’t the kind of life you want. It’s dangerous. It’s hard. Just…go back to your house, to your family, your friends. It’s better that way,” Sam answered.

You began to let tears fall down your face. “No!” you were shouting now, “My life is- it’s nothing right now! I hate my job, I don’t have friends, my family moved away. I don’t do anything! You know, my life felt apart after you left, Sam. I was crippled by my memories of that monster. The only thing that got me through was imagining it dead. And remembering you. You know, I think about the last time I saw you all the time. And now I’m here and the monster’s dead and your back in my life and I…and I…” You were sobbing now, the weight of the night’s events and the uncertainty of the future weighing on you.

Then you felt Sam’s warm embrace again. You cried into his shirt.

“Please don’t go…”

Sam turned his head to look at Dean. Dean was unrelenting.

“Dean…”

“Don’t even suggest it, Sam. We know this is for the best.”

You spoke up again, taking your face out of Sam’s shirt, “Look, I- I’m not asking for some permanent place in your life, but I need to get out of here. You said there’s monsters out there everywhere, right? Well why can’t I help fight them too? I want to stop them from doing to other people what they did to me. If it doesn’t work out, then fine. I just, I need a chance.”

Dean, noticing Sam’s resolve crumbling away, said, "Sam, you can't possibly be thinking this is ok."

"I don't know, Dean. You saw her back at her house. She can handle herself. Maybe it won't work out, but..."

"You have to try." Dean understood what Sam meant, he understood his need for something other than this life. Dean was divided. He wanted his brother to be happy, but he knew it would probably end badly just like it had in the past. But Dean sort of liked you, too. You were funny, tough, honest. You had potential. Besides, any girl who could eat as much as he could could hang with him any day. So, for Sam, he took a chance.

"Look, I'm not promising some permanent living arrangement here, but if you want a taste of hunting, you can have it."

You felt a warm elation spread throughout your body and a sense of thrill flutter in your stomach. Finally, for the first time since your mother died, since your world was turned upside down for a second time, you felt like you were going somewhere. Sam and you looked into each other's eyes, grinning wildly and you let a giggle escape your lips. What would happen in these next few weeks, you didn't know. Hunting would be the most difficult thing you’ve ever done, but you knew you had a chance for a different life. A life with purpose. A life with Sam.

#sam winchester angst #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester oneshot #supernatural fanfiction

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dispensemiracles · 5 years

Text

Persona 5 AU that uses my P4 AU as backstory. Its gonna be split in three parts and stuff and will have P4 spoilers of course and some graphic things, thanks to @ladyforestshade and @stupidstubble for support!

The first ring passed unnoticed; an incessant wail that broke the silence of night. She rolled over on her own accord facing the nightstand when the second ring screamed into her ears. At most she let out a long groan, and by the third was groping for her phone with her eyes half open. Behind her Eli shifted around digging closer against her back. The feel of nails lightly scrapping on her lower scars pushed her to full alertness.

“Elicchi that hur-”

A glance told her Eli was still in deep sleep. She sighed and tapped to answer the call without looking at the screen.

“Hello?”

“Nozomi? Nozomi! So...your number’s the same.”

Her blood froze and for a moment she was busied untangling herself from Eli’s hug. She traced the thick clean lines marring half her stomach starting at her right hip. The tiger stripes pattern of scars on her back and lining the back of her arms began to tingle. Each was as thick as the other beside it. She struggled to swallow with her heart pounding in her throat. Slowly she licked her lips, gathering a shaky breath. The midnight chill made her shiver.

“Hey, Nozomi...are you there? I know it’s late so maybe now isn’t good...”

“Rise, what’re you doing?

She paused, gathering strength to cool the rising turmoil of indescribable emotions swelling in her chest. Against her wishes the hand holding her phone began to tremble.

“How are you doing?”

“...Fine. Well no, not fine. I didn’t call just to hear your voice. There’s something I want, need you for and-”

“If this is about what I think you might say then you can stop right now.”

“Could you just listen? Its- its urgent. Its got to do with a cousin. I think he’s found a way into the Midnight Channel, or something like it.”

Nozomi clenched her phone until her knuckles went white. The faint chill she’d tolerated was evaporating beneath a furious sweat; each scar suddenly burning up, using her panic as a wick. Fuzziness settled into the corners of her vision. An urge to scratch a way out of her own skin made her move her mouth away from the receiver and steady her breathing.

She looked at Eli who’s face was buried between the pillow and her blonde hair. The itching receded before it could advance to the pain that occasionally paralyzed her without warning. She wondered not for the first time if all Shadow wounds were the same way. Her heartbeat calmed and she again spoke to the voice that still managed to make her forget herself.

“That shouldn’t even be possible. We made sure to get rid of it. All of us.”

“Yeah well that doesn’t explain why I can sense an energy like a Persona’s from him. And he’s been so lethargic lately. Haven’t you seen those cases of mental shutdowns on the news too? Nozomi I’m...scared. You know I hate to ask, but you’re the only one who lives closest in Tokyo. Can we...meet up?”

“...Where?”

“There’s a Lawsons by my apartment. Its not much but they’re the only people open at this hour.”

Nozomi sat stewing in silence. Rise’s pleas ran all the more forceful through her thoughts by the exhaustion that’d drained her voice. She fiddled with the edge of her duvet as though it were a stress ball. A surge of emotion that rushed through a mental door she’d once shut made her grip all the tighter. Her stomach began to churn, threatening to wake her scars. Eli had once again taken her attention at the center of a rationale that Rise’s cousin could be akin to helping Alisa in distress.

This time Rise remained patient on the other end, letting out a small sigh of relief when Nozomi spoke,

“Give me the street and time to get ready.”

“Thank you.”

Nozomi tapped to end the call after jotting the details on a notepad. With the careful paranoia of a burglar she redressed; her feet mapped out the quietest spots of the floor to step on. In between putting on each piece of clothing her eyes darted to Eli, still motionless on their bed. When she began folding the directions into her pocket her eyes lingered again.

Sighing she gently smoothed back Eli’s bangs. Despite their year together the gesture came out a tad awkward, hesitant. She looked over Eli’s peaceful expression, her features mature yet retaining a quality of innocence. It gripped her with a familiar apprehension. She felt it creep into unease as she penned another note and placed it on the sheets. When she turned to go her eyes stopped at the nightstand drawer. Quickly she retrieved her phone before it made her feel anything else.

By car meeting Rise was a matter of minutes that plucked at her nerves. As she closed the distance soon only a block remained. Stopping at a traffic light she sat hunched over the steering wheel. Tapping it steadily the thought of circling around to gather herself was tantalizing. She winced at the light turning green, then continued on, smothering the idea.

The last of the journey she moved on foot at a slow pace. Each step was weighted by thoughtful melancholy. At last the bright lights of the Lawsons cast a harsh glow on a lone woman. Rise stood leaning beside the doors, her hands folded behind her back.

It stirred Nozomi’s memory, merging the woman of the present with the still waiting girl of the past. They’d both worn pigtails then. Focusing, she found Rise still did. Her head was turned away, searching.

Taking a breath Nozomi cleared her throat.

“Hello, Rise.”

The turn to look at her came just as she finished speaking. Her heart jolted. Their eyes met, saying more than could be said aloud for the years lost.

“You look exhausted. Are you taking care of yourself properly? Eating enough? Did I wake you at a bad time?”

The questions unfurled one after another like a flower in bloom. The voice was soft as it caressed her in the past while stinging in the present. It gave her pause enough that all she could force out was,

“I haven’t seen them. I mean the mental shutdowns. Haven’t been keeping up with the news these days.”

“Oh. I see.”

She saw what little delight Rise had mustered to meet her vanish. Instead the disconnected, formal sternness she wore during interviews shaking her down for scandals took its place. The energy to her eyes withdrew into hurt. It chipped at Nozomi’s heart, but nothing more. She’d trained herself to bury with numbness. Nozomi checked the time on her phone as an excuse to look away.

No matter how briefly she buried herself elsewhere the disappointed hum Rise made recaptured her attention. Tentatively she looked up again to find her staring at the smartphone in Nozomi’s hands. She drew closer until Nozomi could smell the candy sweet perfume Rise still adored; her eyes remaining down as she spoke,

“You changed it huh? It, looks nice.”

Following the stare Nozomi’s stomach churned to find her wallpaper of Eli’s smile staring back. The pain edging closer in Rise’s voice spun her emotions to yet another uncomfortable phase. Her brain fumbled for a response.

“Yeah. I’ve had this one for a while, probably should upgrade it.”

“She seems nice too.”

“Thanks.”

“Mind if I ask how long?”

“Just a year.”

“Congratulations.”

The blunt kindness Rise had shifted into stung. Nozomi stuffed the phone in a pocket again before another minute could pass. She could feel herself being watched with the same fervor Rise used on the stages of sold out concerts. Just the thought made her grip the phone in her pocket tighter; she could never show Rise that it contained a deluxe version of her latest album.

“All that aside, people have been suddenly dropping dead where only minutes before they were healthy. If it isn’t that then they have fits of insanity and put others in danger. For whatever reason the suicide rate seems to be going up too. Didn’t you at least see that case of a train driver going so fast he barreled off the tracks? It was a miracle he didn’t kill anyone.”

Nozomi’s face knit hard and her tone dropped to a huskiness that fit the shadows lurking around them.

“...I heard about it in class but thought it was an isolated incident.”

“It would be enough if it were, but so many keep popping up with the same things in common. Either the perp dies or they can’t remember a thing afterwards.”

“How many in the last month alone?”

“At least a dozen, I’d guess more. It’s starting to baffle police beyond just being big talk on the web. Inoue even suggested bumping up security at my last show. Some people were too scared to come.”

Sighing Nozomi smoothed back her hair, her eyes darting to the ground in thought. She rubbed her chin and leaned against the wall. Rise’s stare followed and her lips quivered for what had already been said, and what was yet to be. She stood wringing her hands behind her back, waiting. Nozomi broke the thick silence.

“If all this is true, then what’s it got to do with the Other World? Do you think someone found another way to toss people in, only now they can be pulled out and go crazy? If that’s the case how are they feeling the effects only at specific times that cause danger? No one could escape the Midnight Channel alone before, it doesn’t make sense. Impractical even.”

“I thought that at first too. But then I was able to sense a new Persona. At least, it feels a lot like one leaking out from inside Shoji. Maybe it’ll be clearer if I show you.”

“Show me? We can’t summon Personas anymore.”

At that Rise grinned and clasped her hands together as if in prayer. It caused Nozomi’s eyes to widen, spellbound. With a strong, proud resolve too large for her petite body Rise cried out,

“Protect me, Kanzeon!”

A flash of azure light settled into a gentle aura draping over Rise completely. Soon in its wake stood an immensely tall womanly figure; its colors were dominated by silver and red. It’s slender arms held a silver band with two spikes sticking up the ends like ears. The full of its head took the shape of a satellite; a pronounced red antenna struck through three silver, glass-like plates where would’ve been a face. The tails of its striped dress flowed with their elegant lines above the ground.

Nozomi had recoiled and her mouth was gaped open. Her eyes trailed along the antenna to find two more glass plates suspended across from the other behind Kanzeon, like wheels on a car chassis. Slowly she dared reach out to touch the swishing white cloth dangling from the sides of the head. It’s silken feel confirmed it for the truth. Her mouth made an ‘O’ gasping in awe.

Faintly she heard Rise’s light hearted laugh. The tips of her ears turned red as her face flushed in embarrassment. Rarely had she worn the colors of a fool, and she did not want to start again now. Rise herself had her face concealed beneath the silver band, which adorned her forming a crown. This time her hands were again behind her back. She was smiling with a haughty air.

“It took me months but I managed it. A bit of help from some people you haven’t met. Kanzeon comes out whenever I ask it to. Now watch this.”

Three giant translucent panels appeared above them horizontally. Lines of raw data in characters Nozomi recognized but never had learned to read rushed past. They were replaced by a profile of a high school boy wearing glasses. His short black hair was unkempt about his face and ears like a mane that’d broken several combs.

The mischief in his easy smile, pointed chin, and wide but unreadable eyes marked him no matter how lightly as Rise’s kin. Nozomi turned her attention next to a body outline beside it; it’s surface lit up in the manner of a thermal scan. Blue flames dancing vibrantly flickered beyond the edges.

“Well I’ll be, you weren’t lying.” Nozomi slipped out.

“Of course not. He’s my family, even if I almost never see him. If anything happened to him I’d- well that’s why I want your help.”

For the first time surprising even herself, Nozomi chuckled. The sound washed over her as something foreign, something that should have long stopped between them.

“You’re kind as ever, Rise. That part hasn’t changed at all.”

“You’ve got a girlfriend you know. Flattery won’t get you something.” Rise countered, huffing. It quickly masked her tiny instinct to smile.

“That’s not what I-! It was just an observation.”

“Actually on that note...why can’t I sense your Persona? Sure you might not be able to summon but...the energy reading is gone.”

Nozomi shrunk away as the images on the panels shifted into her likeness. She took a deep breath and balled her hands. Her eyes lowered while the sinking pit in her stomach felt as though it would harden into lead. The fear that her scars would wake crept through a crack in her thoughts.

“I...I stopped using it. Stopped acknowledging it. I’m sure by now I’ve all but lost it completely.”

“...And you couldn’t have told me this earlier? There’s no way I can go back to the Other World by myself, you know that!”

“I wanted to at least hear you out. There’s gotta be other ways I can help, right?”

“Yeah but that’s not the point. I thought you’d be able to defend me in that place. If it came to that anyway.”

In a dim cloak of light Kanzeon vanished within Rise; a shadow jumping inside what cast it. She crossed her arms and tapped a foot, furious. It was the same pose she’d worn when discovering Nozomi had once crammed till collapsing for exams. Or had eaten the last leftovers in the fridge without warning. Or had once forgotten their date, or-

“I guess you can at the very least help me explain the Other World to him. Help him if he is in danger and doesn’t know what to do. Give him some advice. He’s clever for someone his age, but he’s not invincible, you know?”

Nozomi’s expression softened.

“No one is, Rise.”

“Besides in that way he reminds me of you. Stubborn to boot too. But a good person.”

As Rise spoke a corner of Nozomi’s mind drifted toward the lowest level of her thoughts. The thoughts that were not thoughts as they were base instincts. She called out there to her Persona; there came no answer. She tried again, and again. No answer. A wave of sudden panic flushed through her. At its barest it filled her eyes with dread. She yearned then for a single connection, anything at all. If Rise noticed she said nothing. The silence unnerved.

“I thought your family were still in Inaba though. Why the sudden change?”

“He got himself in trouble with the law. An assault charge. He’s lucky the most they went for was probation under a guardian. Even then they’ve got him on a tight leash.”

In one motion Rise darted forward and grasped Nozomi’s hands. When she looked down she admired for an instant the manicure Rise had maintained. The grip was firm enough to make her gasp quietly.

“Please, Nozomi. If we can get to the bottom of this then we can stop something awful from trying to repeat. We can save people’s lives! And then...I can get out of your way. But I’m not going to sit around and let people get hurt.”

Nozomi averted Rise’s stare that had only seemed to encompass all her vision. She cowered and took a step back. Her voice quivered.

“We aren’t on the Investigation Team anymore.”

“...You left us.”

It was the first harsh sound Rise had uttered in the dark. A truth within a truth. Rise’s hands pulled away to rest at her sides. Her expression remained gentle, and that cut through Nozomi with greater strength than any twisted abomination. Her scars tingled. She watched Rise sigh and edge away as though to leave, throwing her into panic. She felt the pounding in her chest, the nausea when indeed Rise was turning her back. The feel of her heart grew painful and swelled; suddenly it seemed ten sizes too large. She’d known this scene once before, carried its guilt in her dreams. It echoed from her memory until she could taste bitterness.

Without looking behind Rise stopped and quietly spoke. It was genuine.

“If you don’t want to do this I can understand. I remember what happened you know. I can do this alone. For as long as it takes the others to arrive-eh?”

“I’ll do it.”

Slowly Rise looked down to find Nozomi’s hand gripped around her wrist. Her eyes widened but she remained still. She made a soft gasp seeing the fingers tremble. The calm she’d worn was pushed back like pavement being cracked by ancient roots. The tendrils of worry knotted together with alarm in her expression. They corrupted whatever relief she may have had. Nozomi stood, her teeth grit and her face a mess of harsh angles; mustering her resolve, hacking at the chains of fear.

Rise’s blood ran cold if for a moment. It wakened her memories of the TV hunts, of Nozomi’s wild dances with death in their fog. Her stomach sank. She was caught by hesitation, scolded by shame.

“Nozomi...not if you look like you’re forcing yourself. It was stupid of me to ask such a big deal from you after what happened. You never could shake that place. I just didn’t know what to do and-”

“Rise I will do this. You were right again, as usual. If I run, how am I any better than Adachi if things get worse?”

Rise stiffened at the name, paling a degree. Nozomi’s grip grew firmer.

“My problems I...can work through them. As long as I don’t slow you down too much.”

The edge in her voice made Rise stifle a shiver. Sighing she let Nozomi hold her hand and turned it into a gentle handshake. An urge welled and spread through her in an air of nostalgia; she welcomed the tone she once knew stopped Nozomi’s shakes in her fitful sleep.

“If it ever gets too hard, please tell me. In fact I’ll do my best to keep you out of any fighting as best I can.”

At last Nozomi smiled at her, however faint.

“Thank you.”

The drive home found her empty headed. Her body knew only the numb tension that followed recklessness. The will she’d found sputtered into silence and shuffled its feet back into the recesses of her mind. Each now buzzing nerve began to coil until like a spring she burst aloud at a red light.

“Dammit why can’t I say no to her?!”

The edge of her hands still hurt from pounding the steering wheel when she fumbled for her house keys. Eli was as she’d been left, though now deeper in the blankets. Nozomi’s note fluttered with each of her breaths. The sight of her made Nozomi breathe deeply to drink in reality. She stripped as though the clothes were fire with her scars now pulsating. She didn’t mind where she stepped, stopping at her underwear. Sitting on the bed did little to ease her.

An impulse that refused to be squashed made her look at the nightstand.

It was wrapped in an air of the forbidden, meant to be forgotten. Built to house the feeling, even. She held her wrist tight then curled her fingers. Her hands trembled. Gritting her teeth she let out a grunt and in one swipe opened the drawer. Her flip phone lay as she’d left it.

A thin layer of dust from long before it’d been placed there was broken at her touch. It left goosebumps on her skin, the ghosts of battles scraped through, the shelter within the Junes food court, exams, endless summer days and long winter nights. Nights where in some she could still feel Rise’s kiss, or her shiver when Nozomi touched her right. Of her warm smiles and soft voice. Of the blood and screams. The burn melting into her muscle as her own flesh was ripped open.

She shut it quickly at that, her knuckles white. Under the duvet she curled into a ball. She hugged her sides as though to keep them stitched together. Squeezing shut her eyes, she rolled to face Eli, mapping not for the first time Rise’s face in its place. It made her whine, fearful and shaking as the tears spilled down her cheeks. Her sleep was dreamless. She hardly noticed it take her.

#this has been in planning since last summer i can finally just do what i want #nozorise #OK to reblog #love live!#persona #nozomi tojo #rise kujikawa

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prophetandprincess · 5 years

Text

X X X X X X X

Hey Everyone! How is life treating you? 2019 has been, systematically, doing it’s best to make me wonder if I possibly was cursed and didn’t realize it. However, I am still plugging away at this story because I love it and I love you. Hope you enjoy the read

Trigger Warning: Assault, Gun Violence, Mention of Rape

“You look like someone shot your dog,” Monica wrapped her arms around Alex’s waist and rested her head on the taller girl’s shoulder while they waited in line to pay for their frozen yogurt. “What’s wrong? Boy trouble again because if you need me to kick someone’s ass…”

“Only if you consider my prepodavatel telling me that if I don’t get better, I am going to fail boy trouble,” Alex sighed as she put her head against Monica’s curls. “Please explain to me why I decided to take Russian as an elective again?”

“Girl, I have been asking you that since you told me that it was on your schedule,” Monica laughed as she gave Alex a squeeze and let go as it was almost their turn to pay. “I mean, it’s Tuesday, but I can offer going out for drinks Friday night to help you forget your troubles.”

“I can’t,” Alex sighed as she pulled her card out, attempting to stop everything else from spilling out. “I have my first extra credit thing Saturday morning. I don’t think it would be a good idea to show up hungover the first day.”

“That on top of you not sleeping would not give the best impression, I’ll give you that,” Monica laughed as the two girls grabbed a table by the window and dug into their yogurt. “Where is this assignment again, the Ravenclaw Institute or something?”

“The Ravencroft Institute.” Alex purposefully didn’t tell Monica that it was an asylum for the criminally insane. There was really no reason to get a lecture when Alex just wanted to enjoy her frozen yogurt.

Unfortunately, she forgot that Google existed and it could be accessed easily by a smartphone.

“Your internship is at an asylum for the criminally insane.” Monica blinked at Alex, her spoon dripping peanut butter yogurt on the table while cheesecake and strawberry bits threatened to slide off.

Slowly, Monica put the bright pink plastic spoon into the container and folded her long, slender fingers on the table, and stared at her. Alex pushed around her chocolate yogurt filled with gummy worms, chocolate chips, and whipped cream and avoided the intense gaze. However, after almost three minutes of Monica’s silence, Alex finally looked up. Her dark eyes were practically sparking and her bright red lips were a thin line.

“Please explain to me what made you think that taking an extra credit assignment at an insane asylum was a good idea? Especially given how you attract every lunatic is a ten mile radius?” Monica’s voice was steady and controlled, but her nails were pressing into her skin hard. “I didn’t even think there were any asylums in New York City anymore? That’s like, some medieval shit, Alex.”

“It’s a government run facility for criminals who are too dangerous and unstable for the normal prison population,” Alex recited what she had read off the internet, expecting someone was going to yell her about this whole situation.

“Yes, because ‘government run facility’ is not just as terrible sounding as ‘asylum’” Monica’s voice rose and Alex quickly tried to shush her. “What the hell could you possibly be doing there? You aren’t a psychologist, you’re a scientist.”

“Let’s not shame our psychologist colleagues, they are also scientists.” Alex pointed out, which lead Monica waved her spoon before vigorously attacking her frozen yogurt once again. “There is a patient at the Institute that survived some sort of genetic mutation. Professor Warren wants to study how that affected the mental processes as well as the physiological effects. I would just be collecting skin and blood samples, then completing a quick interview.”

While Alex was attempting to sound confident it was all a show. There wasn’t much information about Ravencroft on the internet and it almost made her tell Professor Warren no. However, she had checked her grades that morning and had failed her first Russian quiz, so she needed the extra credit to cushion her GPA. A professor wouldn’t send her into a seriously dangerous situation, so there was no reason to stress about it. Right?

There was also this morbid sense of curiosity about what this genetic mutation looked like. While it was probably not anything dramatic, she was envisioning extra limbs or scales. The scientific part of her brain was interested about the research that this data was going to be used for as well. The questionnaire she had been emailed seemed pretty standard, but there was also a note to follow any line of questioning that Alex thought relevant. How was she supposed to know that if she didn’t know what the whole study was about?

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” Monica said with a sigh, shaking her head so her curls bounced wildly. “Now, instead of lazily laying in my bed with some hunk Saturday morning and getting my well-deserved beauty sleep, I’m going to be worrying about your dumb ass.”

“If you get any more beautiful, people are going to start building monuments to you,” Alex laughed as she decapitated a gummy worm.

“It’s just, you have this freakish ability to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Knowing you, there is going to be a security failure and you’re going to be taken hostage within the first half hour.” Monica gave Alex a small smile to show that she was mostly joking.

Alex rolled her eyes, but couldn’t say that it was completely out of the realm of possibility. Just imagining the lecture she would get from Sam and Steve if they had to bust into a criminal asylum to save her was enough to give her a headache. That actually might be what would cause Steve to lock her in Stark Tower like a fairytale princess. Her mother and Jake would probably send him a thank you basket when they found out.

“Well, since you’re going to be in a hostage situation on Saturday, you have to come over and have wine and Chinese tonight. I’ll invite Gabe over and we’ll have a nice night in.” Monica had stress eaten all of her yogurt in record speed and tossed the empty carton into the trash can.

“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?” Alex laughed as her phone started to vibrate in her pocket, surprised to see Michael Sousa’s name on the screen. “I have to take this, give me a second?”

Monica waved her hand as Alex grabbed her yogurt and headed out to get a little bit of privacy. Normally, she would have let the call go to voicemail, but she was hoping that her favorite New York City cop had done the background check she requested on Peter Parker. She really hoped that he wasn’t some crazed stalker or something because that would make lab really awkward.

“Whatever it is, I didn’t do it, I swear,” Alex joked as she picked up the call.

“You know, it kind of concerns me that is your standard greeting when you answer my calls,” Michael’s voice held a smile, which eased Alex’s anxiety a little. He would be using his cop voice if there was serious trouble.

“Well, now that we’ve gotten my innocence out of the way, what can I do for you, Detective?” Alex leaned against the warm bricks of the building, phone pressed against her shoulder as she started in on her yogurt again. “Just know that I can and will plead the fifth if need be.”

“Alright, well please try and keep that sense of humor during this conversation,” Michael laughed, but Alex’s anxiety made her shove more yogurt into her face. “I might have asked a couple of the younger officers keep an eye on the guys you beat up outside the Marquee the other night.”

“Well…I guess that is better than having them following me around,” Alex sighed as she continued to shovel yogurt into her mouth. “I’m guessing they are up to something that has to do with me or you wouldn’t be even calling me. What’s going on?”

“That’s where it gets a little fuzzy,” Michael paused after that.

“So you’re calling me because?”

“The group of them were hanging around your college a couple days the past week. I’m not saying that they were looking for you, but they really had no reason being there if they weren’t looking for you,” Michael said it slowly, as if he really didn’t want to admit this to Alex.

“So, you’re calling me to be careful and report if I see a bunch of rapists hanging about,” Alex scraped the bottom of her yogurt container, needed more sugar to deal with this. What was it with every man in her life thinking that she needed to be monitored twenty-four seven?

“Something like that. I know you can take care of yourself, just be a bit more careful than normal,” there was a hint of a smile in Michael’s voice again. “I would hate to have to write you up for manslaughter charges.”

“So you’re just trying to save yourself some paperwork, I see how it is.” Alex laughed as she tossed the yogurt cup away as she walked back into join Monica. “Thanks for the heads up, Michael. If anything changes, let me know.”

“I would say the same thing to you, but it would be a waste of my breath,” Michael actually laughed now. “Take care of yourself, Alex. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Michael as in that hunky police officer from the other night?” Monica asked with a large smile on her face as Alex hung up the phone and threw it in her bag. It was obvious from that wide smile that Monica had a thousand things to say, but instead just tilted her head and fluttered her eyelashes.

“If I’m coming to your place for Chinese and wine, I need to get back to my place and get some work done.” Alex knew there was no reason to attempt to defend herself against Monica’s unstated accusations. No matter what she said, Monica would turn it around that Alex was madly in love with the Detective. Better to just keep her mouth shut.

“You’re no fun,” Monica pouted as they gathered up their stuff and headed out of the shop. “If it’s because of the Russian thing, I suggest swallowing your pride and getting a tutor. If you go to the student union, there might be something on the bulletin board. I need my fun-loving and carefree Alexandra back.”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea,” Alex laughed as they walked home, enjoying the warm weather in early autumn afternoon.

“Darling, all my ideas are good.” Monica flipped her curls before busting out laughing again. “Seriously, though. You need some stress relief and if you get it from sleeping with a cop, I guess I can forgive you.”

Alex rolled her eyes, but just let it go. Henry waved at the girls when they got back to their apartment building, saying that it was good to see them enjoying the day. Alex went to her apartment and was the most productive she had been all semester. While she might have dozed off on her anatomy notes, she still got caught up on all her classes except Russian.

At seven, Alex finally closed her books. She didn’t worry about changing out of the gym shorts and tank tops she had been wearing, knowing that Monica had seen worse and Gabe wouldn’t care. Instead, she slid on some flip-flops and plodded to Monica’s apartment.

“Su casa es tu casa.” Gabriel gave Alex a dazzling smile as he opened Monica’s door and handed her a wine glass.

“Muchas gracias.” Alex knew that her pronunciation was terrible, but it was the one phrase in Spanish that she knew.

Gabe gave a good natured laugh as he closed the door and ushered Alex into the living room. Monica was flopped belly down on a bean bag, ankles cross in the air, as she had notes and textbooks spread all around her.

“Oh, no, if I can’t study, then you can’t study,” Alex kicked Monica’s leg lightly before she sank down onto the couch, enjoying the air conditioning. “Besides, what kind of host makes their guest open the door?”

“I had to finish this chapter, alright? Besides, Gabe has been texting a boy for the past half hour with this idiotic smile on his face while we were waiting for you. He’s fine.” Monica flipped her text book closed before rolling onto her back. “And, because we have the first sorority mixer on Saturday, which you’re totally invited to, I need to get ahead on assignments.”

“I’m probably going to want to just come home and sleep, but I’ll let you know,” Alex knew that the chances of her actually sleeping more than two hours were very low, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to try. Plus, socializing past drinking and getting Chinese sounded too draining.

“If you wanted to go and have hot sex with the police officer, you just have to say so,” Monica laughed as she got to her feet and grabbed her phone.

Monica turned on Netflix and then tossed her phone over to Gabe so that he could put in his GrubHub order. He passed the phone back to Monica, who tossed it at Alex, almost making her spill wine all over the couch. After Alex handed it back, Monica continued to focus on the phone, tapping away and sighing.

“You’re looking a little tense, Mo,” Gabe said as he turned down the episode of Supernatural for a moment. “Something wrong with our favorite Vice President of a sorority?”

“For once, it’s not the sisters that are causing me to go prematurely grey,” Monica sat up and blew some of her curls out of her face. “There has been some…tension at Oscorp recently due to events that I can’t tell you about under penalty of death. Of course, the interns are being blamed for the whole thing, which is ridiculous.”

“Why didn’t you mention something when we were together earlier?” Alex looked away from the screen were Sam and Dean Winchester were doing something very stupid and looking amazing doing it.

“When did I have the time between you dropping the mental asylum bomb and then talking to Hot Detective on the phone?” Monica smile at Alex.

“What’s the problem, in vague terms in which we wouldn’t really know what’s going on if someone tortured us for the information?” Gabriel asked as he got up and refilled everyone’s wine glass.

“As it won’t be leaving this room,” Monica gave them both a pointed look, “Oscorp has been experiencing some technical difficulties with their security system recently. Nothing serious and no one outside of the company knows about it, but obviously they are starting to get a bit paranoid about the whole thing. As the interns are low men on the totem pole and some of the glitches are around our lab, all the interns in my division have been questioned. There is a group message that’s comparing interrogation notes.”

“That sucks, didn’t you all need to go through some sort of…testing to get security clearance?” Alex asked as she sipped her wine. She had been wondering how different Oscorp was from Stark Industries, but she didn’t want to come out and say she had to have a polygraph test. It would seem weird if it wasn’t industry practice.

“I mean there were background check run and personal references verified, the usual stuff. We also don’t have access to everything, just the projects we’re working on. I mean, I’m working on a new water filtration system that takes out impurities while equally distributing things like fluoride into the water at less cost, smaller equipment, and hopefully completely green.” Monica shrugged. “I don’t know why they’re so worked up about it. Nothing has been stolen and the security cameras have never gone out. It’s just some IT bug that has to be taken care of.”

“It might not be that simple,” Gabriel said as he tapped the side of his wineglass, obviously deep in thought. “There are a number of reasons for glitches in the system that are not simply IT issues.”

Gabriel started to explain a number of complicated computer and security processes that could possibly lead to the vague glitches Monica had mentioned. Some of it was rather innocent stuff, others were malicious virus that had no set plan of attack, just to cause chaos. Alex zoned out after a couple minutes, feeling about an inch tall for not noticing that something was bothering Monica. She had to be the worst friend in the history of the world, just a step above Brutus to Caesar, but just barely.

“Oh fucking hell,” Monica gave a frustrated growl and collapsed face first into the bean bag. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“What’s going on?” Alex asked, not sure what could have made Monica react so dramatically.

“I hit pick-up instead of delivery and so now the delicious, unhealthy, and soul comforting Chinese food that I need is now sitting on a counter instead of on it’s way into my belly,” Monica’s voice was muffled by the chair.

“Don’t be so dramatic, I’ll go pick it up,” Alex said with a laugh as she got up and slipped her flip-flops on. “You ordered from The Jade Dragon, right? That’s only like ten blocks away and it’s still nice out.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Gabriel asked, already getting to his feet. However, at that moment a cell phone started to ring. They all stared at one another for a moment before it was coming from Gabe’s pocket. He pulled out another cell phone and sighed.

“You take whatever that is, it’s not that late and the restaurant isn’t far. I’ll be back before you finish your call.” Alex left before anyone could protest, taking the stairs since it was faster.

It had gotten a bit cooler than Alex had expected and she crossed her arms over her chest as she walked quickly toward The Jade Dragon. While the restaurant didn’t get any marks on aesthetics or presentation, it was the most delicious Chinese in the city. For a moment while she was waiting for the light to change, Alex got a chill that she was being watched, but the light changed and the feeling slipped away as the bell over the front door rang.

After five minutes to confirm with Monica that Alex was there to get the food, she was left with a brown paper bag packed full with delicious smelling food. The walk back took a little longer, Alex having to switch hands when her fingers cramped. That feeling of something not being right only increased as she seemed to hit every light. Alex’s fingers found her wrist, looking around, but nothing was out of the ordinary. Anxiety was a bitch.

Five blocks from the building, something hard and cold was pressed into Alex’s spine. After having a gun pressed to your skin once, you never forget it, and Alex froze recognizing that feeling now. This time it was not one of her less than civilized friends playing a not at all funny joke and Alex’s wrist throbbed in pain.

“You looked better in the red dress,” A male voice whispered into her ear. “You’re going to walk down this alley with us, calmly, and we’re going to have a little chat.”

“If I say no?” Alex’s voice was steady even though she was covered in a cold sweat. This close, there was the possibility of getting the gun away from the guy without him paralyzing her with one shot, if not kill her. However, there was a chance she couldn’t and also that he would accidently fire and hit some innocent bystander. Was that a risk she was willing to take?

"We don’t believe in the word no, Princess.” The sound of a click made Alex jump a little. “But you know that, don’t you?”

Alex knew at that moment it was the assholes from Marquee.

Her eyes closed and she said a couple of choice words under her breath before moving into the alley. While she was still scared, a part of her was wondering how this kept happening to her. Maybe she should let Steve lock in Stark Tower, maybe then she wouldn’t be accosted by morons.

“You know,” Alex said over her shoulder, anger starting to replace some of her fear, “if I was really a princess, this would be considered treason. I could have you beheaded.”

“You smart mouth bitch,” The gun is brought down on the back of Alex’s skull, causing her to stumble into the dumpster and see stars. “I lost my acceptance to medical school because of the police report.”

Alex set the Chinese food on the top of the dumpster so she wouldn’t spill everything and slowly turned around. The three men who assaulted the brunette outside the Marquee where all glaring at her, but there was only one gun, which was a plus. Still, Alex was in flip-flops and she didn’t think that one bag of takeout would stop a bullet.

“Do you understand what you did to us, what we might lose?” The shortest one growled.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have raped a bunch of women and then your perfect future would be secure. However, you ruined their futures so it only seems fair that your lives are ruined as well.” The fear had seeped away at some point, leaving just anger. How dare these men who raped a number of women, stand there and complain to her about how their actions ruined their lives.

“None of them said no,” the black haired one pointed out with the sleaziest smile Alex had ever seen, “and neither will you.”

“No,” Alex said simply as she took a step forward. “Now, if you touch me, you’re going to need god himself to stop me from ripping your throat out with my teeth.”

All three of the men took a small step backward at the viciousness in her words. It only took a moment for them to collect themselves, smirks sliding back onto their faces. Alex had never had the urge to spit in someone’s face, then she did in that moment. She had always felt that a punch was more refined than spitting, but these guys deserved to be degraded.

“Well, then I guess I’m just going to kill you if I can’t get anything from you. That will lead to the other bitch dropping the case.” The black haired one, who was holding the gun said. “You’re probably a horrid fuck anyway.”

Before Alex could say anything, the gun muzzle was pressed into her chest. It jumped a little with each heartbeat as they stared each other down.

Alex knew that there should be fear, there should be tears, there should be begging for her life, but all she felt anger. It would be a cold day in hell before she let these pieces of shit kill her. That meant she had two options, attempt to disarm and get away or try and talk them out of shooting her. There was no point in attempting to appeal to their sense of humanity, it was obvious that they had none, but she could probably spin it into a way of them saving their own asses.

“Finally, a way to shut you up.” The black haired one slid up to brush against her jaw and then back down. “You know, you’re very pretty when you aren’t talking. Are you sure we couldn’t work something out?”

“I wish I could say the same for you, but you’re just disgusting,” Alex said between clenched teeth.

The men just laughed a dark and humorless laugh. Alex knew that she now only had one option, which was to get the gun away from them. Yet, the muzzle moved back down, right over her heart, right into the red star tattoo, and pressed hard. The black haired man took another step forward and licked his lips.

There was a sharp pain and a large crash, but there was no blood. For a long second Alex just stared at the other two men, neither of them sure what the hell had happened or where the black haired man had gone. Then there was a flash of red and blue and the assailant was being punched multiple times in the face.

“Now, is that any way to treat a lady or the Chinese food she’s carrying?” Spiderman asked as he moved to stand between Alex and the other two men. “Why don’t we just let her hurry home before the foods cold and we can have a chat about manners.”

“We’re going to teach you a lesson this time you fucking fairy,” the shorter one growled.

There was the sound of a shot being fired and Spiderman jumped out of the way. Alex just stood there, pressed against the dumpster, unable to move. It was as if the little buffering wheel was up in her brain and she couldn’t process anything. Spiderman bounced off the bricks, avoiding another shot, and gave Alex an ungracious shove behind the dumpster to get her out of the line of fire.

It was a difficult for Alex to stay focused on the fight, Spiderman moving so fast, but unable to get the three men all wrapped up in webs. The vigilante was able to get the gun out of the black haired one’s hand, but that was the only progress he really made. The alley was too tight and it was obvious that Spiderman didn’t want to really hurt them.

As if something switched on, Alex surged forward and tackled the shortest guy from behind. They both hit the cracked asphalt, Alex’s knees getting bloodied, before she brought her knee up and slam it into his balls. The man’s elbow came back at the same moment and winded her, causing her to roll off of him.

Spiderman’s foot came down on the wrist of the other man’s wrist as he got him onto the ground as well, but the blacked haired one got behind him. While he didn’t have a gun, he did wrap an arm around Spiderman’s throat and they both tumbled into the wall. Alex scrambled over and slammed her elbow into the other man’s stomach to stop him from joining the fray. Spiderman got a bit of leverage and flipped over, stuck to the wall, and webbed the back haired man to the ground. Then he webbed the other two, making sure to cover their eyes.

Alex thought that was a bit excessive as she got to her feet, hissing from the scrapes on her knees. She was thinking up something witty to say to the web-slinger as she tilted her head up. However, it died on her lips and all the air left her lungs. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be real.

“No,” Alex said shaking her head and backing up, “no, no, no! Not again.”

“Again?” Peter Parker asked as he jumped down onto the asphalt and picked up his mask, brushing it off. “You unmask superheroes often, Harper?”

“Why me? What did I do to have this keep happening to me?” Alex ran her hands through her hair as she paced over the prone bodies, pulling little sounds of protests when she stepped on a hand or stomach. It was like she had a tattoo on her forehead that read ‘superheroes please come mess up my perfectly normal life at the most inconvenient times.’ How many superheroes were running around New York anyway?

"You just found out about my secret identity, I’m pretty sure I should be the one freaking out.” Peter pointed out, brushing the dirt off his mask.

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut the hell up.”

“What? I have a secret identity for a reason!”

They two of them just stood there and staring at one another, wrapped up in their own thoughts. Most of Alex’s continued four letter words. Of all the students in her Biochemistry class, she was paired with Spiderman. Peter Parker was Spiderman.

“What do we do now?” Alex sighed, as the sound of sirens reached her ears. It wasn’t like she could unlearn Peter’s identity and it wasn’t like she could avoid her lab partner. She had even started to, against her will, consider him a friend.

“Well, first we should get out of this alley since the boys in blue are on their way. They aren’t all that fond of me and vigilante justice,” Peter tugged the mask on, even though it was pretty pointless.

“Do you know that there is a task force that is tasked with finding vigilantes and you’re on the top of their list?” Alex asked with a smile before looking down at the idiots on the ground. “One of that task force will probably be here because of this and I should talk to him. You get out of here, though.”

“I’m not going to leave you alone with these guys,” Peter gave the wiggling black haired man a swift kick in the ribs. “I mean, I’ve been following you for weeks trying to keep them from getting you alone. Especially after their first threat.”

“So you were stalking me, I knew it!” All of strange questions and popping up out of nowhere suddenly made so much more sense. Popping up when she was jogging at dangerous times, being alone with Sandy where she could have been hurt or taken, and being sincere when asking if she was alright. It was still stalker behavior, but in a sweeter way.

“It wasn’t stalking, it was…protection detail that you didn’t know about,” Peter protested.

“Yeah well,” The sirens sounded as if they were on this block, “we’ll talk about it later. These guys are tied up all pretty and you’re not good to anyone in jail. Especially me, we have that project in Warren’s class that I don’t want to do alone.”

“Oh, I see, purely selfish reasons,” Peter laughed, but he crawled up the wall without any more protest. “I’ll see you when I see you, Harper.”

“You bet your cute little spandex ass, now get out of here.” Alex walked over and grabbed the Chinese off the dumpster so that didn’t get tipped over in the chaos.

“Stay out of trouble,” Peter called before he disappeared onto the roof.

“Always has to have the last word,” Alex muttered as police officers came into the alley, guns drawn. “Hello officers, could you call Detective Sousa for me? I believe this case falls into his jurisdiction.”

#marvel #spiderman #the amazing spider-man #peter parker #A Spider Sat Down Beside Her #Update 9

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jelixpo · 6 years

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Psycho (Chap 4)

~Author’s note: This is a fictional story featuring the pairing between jack///septic//eye and mark//iplier, or septiplier for short, and the pairing between jack///septic//eye and pew//die//pie, or jelix/septicpie for short. You are not to contact the people that are involved in this story with regards to questions about this story or their relationships, whatever they may be, as they have stated in the past that this makes them uncomfortable. This story will deal closely with spiralling mental health and will delve into very sensitive topics that may be triggering for some individuals. Chapter warnings will be provided as seen fit/needed. You are asked to read at your own discretion. Thank you.~

Felix groaned as his mind began to regain consciousness, his head already pounding before the day had even started. He tried to open his eyes but quickly found the sun to be greeting him brightly. Very brightly. He cringed for a moment before finally managing to flutter his eyes open. Looking around he recognized that he had fallen asleep on the couch last night and, as soon as he made that discovery, he felt how sore and aching his back and neck were. No matter how comfy a couch was it never felt good to sleep on one through the night. Looking down across himself he saw the bottle of whiskey still clutched close to his chest. Upon further inspection, he found that the bottle was down to its last few drops. Had he really drank the whole thing? That would explain the headache. Felix began to shift as he tried to find a comfortable position. In doing so, the whiskey bottle laying on his stomach slipped off of him and clattered to the floor, thankfully staying intact. The sound of the thick glass clanging onto the ground just made Felix's head pound harder. He managed to push himself into a sitting position and slumped back against the couch. Just sitting up had him panting for breath. There was no way he was going to be able to do anything productive today, let alone anything at all. He scanned his eyes lazily over his surroundings and found his phone lying face up on the ground next to the couch, still prominently displaying its large cracks. He reached down and clumsily took hold of the device before sitting back with it in his hand. He tapped into the Twitter app after opening his phone and typed out a quick tweet about being unable to make videos that day. He read it over a couple times in his head but honestly, in his current state, he could've read the tweet one hundred times over and he'd still never be able to comprehend it himself. Whatever. He got the main point across. It was good enough. He sent it. Felix sighed as he leaned back into the couch again. He wanted to fall back asleep but he was too achy to get any peace. He needed to take something. Grunting, Felix pushed himself to a standing position from the couch and swayed slightly, shaking his head slightly as he attempted to steady himself and his head. It felt like he had to teach himself how to walk again. Somehow he managed to drag himself into the kitchen and over to the medicine cabinet. Opening it he reached inside and grabbed a bottle of Tylenol and, after a moment of fumbling with the child-proof cap, opened it and popped two pills into his hand. After doing so, Felix reached down onto the kitchen counter and opened up a bag of dinner buns and took two. He wasn't hungry, he didn't really feel like eating anything at all, but he knew the pills might make him sick if he didn't put something in his stomach to balance them. He threw the pills into his mouth then took a bite out of one of the buns, the texture of food feeling weird in his mouth in his current state. That feeling would probably wear off soon enough. Felix turned, not bothering to close the cabinet, and walked back over to the living room and his couch. He collapsed onto the piece of furniture, his legs aching. He thought about pulling out his phone and scrolling through Twitter but then thought better of it. He couldn't handle all that right now. Besides, his motor skills weren't really functioning properly at the moment. Attempting to hold a phone and scroll through it at the same time with one hand was too much for him at the moment. Opting to go for the form of entertainment that required much less work, Felix reached down and blindly groped at the ground beside the couch, satisfied once his fingers finally found the remote control and brought it up beside himself. He flicked on the TV and began to flip through the channels, taking another bite of his bun as he did so. There were various cooking shows, challenge shows, news channels, dramas, and the like. None of which caught Felix's attention or captured his interest. Finally, he landed on something that held some merit. A police officer was being interviewed about the events of a case he had solved. As he spoke, the camera would occasionally cut to a different set piece where hired actors would act out and show the events which the officer was describing. Felix set the remote down on his lap and chewed absentmindedly while watching the show. "James Davis was truly a hopeless romantic in the simplest of terms. Everything he cared about, everything he strived for was solely driven by his need to be with this person he cared about, y'know... The heart can be a scary thing sometimes," The officer explained. Felix cocked his head to the side slightly, fully intrigued now, "James had been friends with a girl named Maddison Campbell for basically two-thirds of his life and he was crazy in love with her. I'm talking head over heels, butterflies in the stomach, the whole nine yards. Now, Maddison was never informed of Jame's feelings, he actually never told her. She just thought that he was her best friend, and in a way he was, y'know. People said they were inseparable. Maddison was described as a very pretty girl. Y'know, she was young, just graduated college, she was a smart kid and very nice to everyone she met. She was just a walking ball of positive energy, so naturally, she had lots of friends. Well, eventually one of these friends became more than just a friend. I mean, it was inevitable, really. People had seen her and this boy, Cameron Jacobs, constantly flirting, y'know, being playful with each other. Both very good kids. They just kinda gravitated towards each other. Of course, once they announced their relationship James got pretty upset about it. And he knew better than to voice his feelings but he did eventually talk to some of his close friends about how he was feeling, y'know. Things like 'I wish I told her how I felt' and 'I thought she loved me', 'I was gonna tell her someday'. Things like that." Felix leaned forward slightly on the couch, ignoring his aches at the moment. He was completely absorbed into the TV, amazed at how similar all these events sounded. The officer on screen continued. "Eventually Cameron proposes to Maddison and they're on their way to having this big wedding, y'know, inviting everybody, making all these plans. Maddison was ecstatic about the whole thing. She was very much a 'girls' girl. Always wanted the family wedding, wanted the princess dress, the big cake, y'know, all that. She could not wait for this wedding. Now, James being her closest friend, he was one of the first people to find out about this. And he was livid. He never told this to Maddison, of course, he didn't want to make her upset, but hearing about this just made him spiral out of control. Now, James was very good at hiding his emotions, so even though some people noticed how upset he was about the event, I don't think anybody realised just how desperate James was. Y'know, 26, living on his own, working two jobs, swimming in debt from student loans, I think James really saw Maddison as his only form of happiness, so to think that she might be getting stolen away from him, he just couldn't handle it." Felix let out a shaky breath. He felt sympathy for James, as bad as that sounded. Everything that the officer was describing about James Felix understood perfectly. It was honestly a little scary to think how similar Felix found himself to James. "For the first couple of months, no one really sees James. He stays in his house all day, at work he keeps to himself, he kinda stops talking to a lot of people. That kind of self-imposed isolation on someone, especially when they're hurting so badly on the inside, can really mess with someone's head. So James starts keeping a journal in order to get his thoughts out. As the wedding date gets closer and closer James just gets more and more depressed and desperate. Eventually, he convinces himself that Maddison must be in love with him too. This kind of false hope happens a lot in people who are desperate and sad. So he decides 'I have to do something about this'. A couple weeks before the wedding he invites Maddison out for a drink alone. And she thinks, y'know, 'oh this is my best friend and I haven't seen him in a long time, this is gonna be great!' but really she didn't know what was going on with him. So she shows up at this bar on the edge of town, quiet place, and her and James get to talking. Eventually, she gets up to go to the bathroom and when she comes back her drink tastes funny. She's a nice girl, doesn't really wanna bother anybody, so she keeps this to herself. Next thing you know, boom, she's out like a light. When she wakes up she's in this basement in a room with James and this is really when she starts to see how insane her friend has become. He tells her about how he feels, what he's been writing in his journal, how much he loves her, basically lays everything out on the table. She tries to tell him that she doesn't feel the same way but he really doesn't listen to her. James is so in love with her that he just kind of hears what he wants to hear. He keeps her for about 3 days. He takes care of her, he never once touches her, but he never shuts up. Just going on and on with all these thoughts he's kept to himself over the past months, how depressed he is. Maddison is very involved with her friends and her community, so her disappearance is immediately noticed. Search teams were sent out exactly twenty-four hours after her disappearance and-" Felix sat open-mouthed and wide-eyed. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Sure, he understood feeling sad and desperate and lonely. Understood how your soul gets torn out once you hear about the wedding, but he couldn't fathom kidnapping someone, no matter how desperate he got... Or maybe he could. Felix grimaced at himself and shook his head, horrified at the thought. Of all the terrible things he had pondered over the last week, this topped them all. No. Kidnapping? No. Out of the question. God, he was such a horrible person. How could he ever think such a horrible thing... But... Maybe he had been right. Maybe Jack really did love him back. Would doing something that extreme be worth the risk? It definitely had its benefits and- Felix shot up from the couch and began to pace around the room. No. No, no, god, no. This was fucked up. This was so fucked up. He was so fucked up. How could he even think such things? And to give them second thoughts, no less. God, he felt so ashamed with himself... But did shame overpower his want, his need for love? For happiness? For affection? He was a person, a living breathing human being. Everyone deserved happiness in their life, even if it was hard to get. Sometimes, sacrifices have to be made- What kind of fucked up sacrifice was that? Kidnapping his best friend? That's not a fucking sacrifice, that's a fucking crime. There's a difference. God, there's a huge fucking difference between making a sacrifice and choosing to do something so horrific, so terrifying. Jack would never look at him the same... But maybe that was what he wanted. But he couldn't want that. But he did. But he shouldn't. But he did... God, this was all so fucked up. He was tired. He was hung over. He just needed to relax and stop thinking about it. No matter how much he might want it or think he needs it, Felix couldn't do something like that. He'd never forgive himself if he damaged his relationship with Jack beyond repair. It wasn't worth it. He needed to get his mind off of it. He needed to do something, anything. Felix picked up the TV remote he had set on the couch and clicked the TV into a different setting, then walked over to a cabinet beside the TV and opened it, revealing box upon box of different games. He needed to play something, get his mind off all of this. --- It was getting late. Felix had played every game he thought interested him in the moment, but he still couldn't stop thinking about it. He had gone into his bedroom and opened up a figurine kit and spent hours building it. Every moment of those hours, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Eventually, he had returned to his TV and turned to watching some of his favourite animes. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about it. This was stupid. This was so fucking stupid. It was no use. Defeated, Felix finally rose from his couch and switched off the TV for the final time that day. He dragged himself into his bedroom and threw his clothes off of him and onto the floor, opting to fold them properly in the morning. Today had kicked his ass mentally and he just wanted to sleep. He pulled back the covers of his bed and crawled under the soft, cool material. He fluttered his eyes closed. All of a sudden, he found himself waking up again. Back in that godforsaken hotel room where he had heard the news. Felix felt his skin boiling. He was at the end of his rope, on his last nerve. He had to fix this. To fix everything. He jumped out of bed and rushed to the hotel door, not bothering to change out of his clothes or prepare for the day. He felt fresh, revitalised, determined. In a flash, he was swinging open the doors to the convention and sprinting inside. No one stopped him or dared to step in his way. Somehow, they all knew that this was bound to happen. It needed to happen. It didn't take long for Felix to spot the one he wanted to see most. Jack. Standing next to Mark, the two hand in hand. Felix stopped for a moment and wondered if this was worth it. If telling Jack of his feelings would even change anything. And then, he saw it. Jack's smile. It was plastic. Purely made of plastic. How had he not noticed it before? It seemed so blatant now. Looking down, Felix looked at Jack's and Mark's hands clasped together in a loving hold. But then it shifted slightly, and suddenly it wasn't so loving anymore. It was harsh, gripping, white-knuckled. He blinked and saw that Jack wasn't even holding on. It was Mark, his hand wrapped tightly around Jack's wrist. Holding him. Keeping him. Felix looked back up and blue met blue, Jack now having noticed Felix come in. Jack's smile didn't fade, but how could it? Something so fake couldn't move, but Felix saw his eyes. They were filled with hurt, with longing, with a need to break free. Felix knew he had to do something. Now. "Let him go, Mark," Felix called across the room. The American whipped his head toward the Swede, his eyes filled with worry all of a sudden. "F-Felix!" Mark stuttered, startled, "I-I'm surprised you came back! I didn't expect to see you again. Are you feeling better?" Mark attempted to dodge the question. Felix began to move towards the couple. "Let. Him. Go, Mark" Felix repeated again, more sternly, "He doesn't belong with you," Felix finally said. Finally. It felt good to say those words out loud. Mark's expression grew stern. "What do you mean he doesn't belong with me? He loves me. Don't you, Jack?" Mark asked, his voice suddenly changing again from stern to soft as he gently turned Jack's face to look at him. He tried to hide it, but Felix could see the death grip Mark had on Jack's jaw, "You love me, baby, don't you?" He asked softly. "Of course," Jack croaked out, his voice hitching. Felix could see how trapped Jack felt. He had to do something. He took one step and suddenly he was on the other side of the room, grabbing hold of Jack's hands and ripping him out of Mark's grasp. The American tried to reach out to Jack once again, but Felix pulled him out of Mark's reach. Felix turned back to Jack and stared into his eyes, holding the Irishman's bruised hands gently in his. "You don't have to say what you don't mean," Felix spoke softly, affectionately, "You don't have to be afraid anymore," He shook his head slightly, staring into Jack's fearful eyes, now beginning to fill with tears, "I'm here," Felix cooed. He lifted his hand and placed it gently on Jack's cheek and began wiping away his tears. As soon as he made contact with it, Jack's plastic smile broke and fell off his face. He took a shaky breath out as he leaned into Felix's touch, finally free. "No, you can't do this!" Mark called out harshly, interrupting the moment, "He's mine!" He shouted angrily. Suddenly, it seemed as if everyone at the convention stood behind Mark, all looking as angry as he did. "You don't belong with him!" The crowd called to Jack angrily. Felix looked over and could see the fight going on in Jack's head. Should he continue to follow along with what everyone else wanted, or should he finally fight for his own happiness? Felix gently turned Jack's face back to him. "You don't have to listen to them. You don't have to pretend anymore," Felix reassured him. Jack stared back into Felix's eyes for a moment before an affectionate smile formed on his face. He had made his choice. "Get them!" Mark called out angrily. Immediately, the crowd began to sprint towards the two outcasts. Felix quickly locked Jack's hand with his and began to run for the exit to the convention. As fast as the crowd was, Jack and Felix were faster. In a flash they were darting out the door, running as fast as their legs would carry them, their burning passion for each other the only thing fueling them. The wind licked through their hair as they ran through the streets and alleyways, ducking and weaving through every twist and turn with ease. It wasn't long before they escaped the city and out-ran the mob. They ran over highways and train tracks and fields of every kind, the wind at their backs as they flew through the country. It wasn't long before they came upon a city in the distance, and then that city drew closer. And closer. And closer. Running through the streets, Felix couldn't believe where they had run to. His home. His real home. Where he grew up. Stockholm, Sweden. Darting through the streets they came into an alleyway and finally skidded to a halt. They had travelled thousands of miles together, crossing every form of land known to man, and yet they felt energized. Nothing could separate them now. Felix turned around and looked at Jack, their eyes meeting again. The Irishman smiled warmly at him. It was real, genuine. "I love you," Jack finally said. And there it was. The affection, the look, the firm grasp that Jack held to Felix. Now Felix knew it was true. To Jack, he was special. And Jack was special to him. Jack slowly leaned closer and closer towards Felix, his eyes closing slightly as he did so. Felix copied his action, their faces inching closer and closer. Suddenly, Jack stopped and looked up into Felix's eyes, "Now you just have to get me to admit it." "What?" Felix asked, confused. And suddenly, in a flash, he was back in his room again. Waking up. Felix sat up in his bed and looked around. It was still dark. He leaned forward and put his head in his hands, shaking his head at himself. This was so fucking stupid.

#jelix #septicpie #writings #some writings or whatever #psycho #psycho story #get it #stockholm #like the syndrome #yeah you get it

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archieviscom · 3 years

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picking a story or statistic

as part of the brief, I need to pick a compelling story or statistic to translate into type. the brief mentions that I should feature either key teenage knife crime statistics and/or use the stories from K4L’s mentors or attendees.

I think in terms of the instagram story. I want to keep it simple (something it mentions on the brief) and make it quick and snappy, from my research I found out the average attention span for younger people is 3.25 seconds. obviously I can go on longer than that but I need to make a big, eye catching impact in that short time. the same could apply to the static element too, a lot of people see billboards on the side of the road or in high streets, places like that. the brief gives the example of a 48 sheet billboard. I think a lot of these are placed roadside so the same short time period still applies to some degree. a lot of people would be driving past it, or would see whilst on the bus or just walking past it. this needs to be easily digestible but also make an impact and cut through all the regular commercial noise seen in day to day life.

instagram story - I haven't done anything in this format before so there will be a bit of learning curve. as I've always done with creating animations, I have set up a document in illustrator that I can then import into after effects (the type is just placeholder). back in a previous post, I showed a clip from operation odessa where they displayed type reading across the screen. I would like to try something similar and then display the statistics.

statistics - I think given that an instagram story has a maximum of 15 seconds. i don’t know if I'll be able to translate a story very well and might not be able to do it justice. I will therefore go with statistics, I just need filter through what I've learnt so far and pick one or a few that a) have the most impact and b) can somehow be translated into type.

in a 12 month period (June 2019 to June 2020) police recorded 47,349 incidents involving a knife or sharp object. that's just insane, that's and average of 3,946 a month or 911 a week or 130 a day, 5 every hour... I think this alone is enough to go off but I will consider a few different ones.

I found an article from the guardian that spoke about UK knife crime statistics:

https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2020/apr/23/knife-offences-hit-record-high-in-2019-in-england-and-wales

“This has been the inevitable consequence of huge cuts to policing and the loss of 21,000 officers, and the cuts to the key services we rely on to prevent crime, such as youth clubs, mental health support and probation”. this one I found quite interesting and it could work as the brief mentions that the campaign should shine some light on the topic to the wider public. I think a lot of people just blame the gangs and kids for this but when in reality, there are so many more layers to this onion. there are several fundamental flaws within the system and it is failing so many people and its in some cases, pushing people into this life. However, I do want to avoid getting too political with this, I think that could deter away from what's really the focus here and there are other options to explore, Key4Life show statistics on there page looking at the environment that these kids are living in and how this could also contribute to the steep rise in these crimes. This was also mentioned in the Vice documentary I watched earlier this week. I could look into Maslow’s hierarchy of needs (as mentioned on the brief) and see if I could incorporate this into the rise of knife crime.

https://www.simplypsychology.org/maslow.html

a breakdown of Maslow’s theory:

Physiological needs - these are biological requirements for human survival, e.g. air, food, drink, shelter, clothing, warmth, sex, sleep.

If these needs are not satisfied the human body cannot function optimally. Maslow considered physiological needs the most important as all the other needs become secondary until these needs are met.

Safety needs - Once an individual’s physiological needs are satisfied, the needs for security and safety become salient. People want to experience order, predictability and control in their lives. These needs can be fulfilled by the family and society (e.g. police, schools, business and medical care). For example, emotional security, financial security (e.g. employment, social welfare), law and order, freedom from fear, social stability, property, health and wellbeing (e.g. safety against accidents and injury).

Love and belongingness needs - after physiological and safety needs have been fulfilled, the third level of human needs is social and involves feelings of belongingness. The need for interpersonal relationships motivates behaviour. Examples include friendship, intimacy, trust, and acceptance, receiving and giving affection and love. Affiliating, being part of a group (family, friends, work).

Esteem needs are the fourth level in Maslow’s hierarchy - which Maslow classified into two categories: (i) esteem for oneself (dignity, achievement, mastery, independence) and (ii) the desire for reputation or respect from others (e.g., status, prestige). Maslow indicated that the need for respect or reputation is most important for children and adolescents and precedes real self-esteem or dignity.

Self-actualization needs are the highest level in Maslow's hierarchy, and refer to the realization of a person's potential, self-fulfillment, seeking personal growth and peak experiences. Maslow (1943) describes this level as the desire to accomplish everything that one can, to become the most that one can be. Individuals may perceive or focus on this need very specifically. For example, one individual may have a strong desire to become an ideal parent. In another, the desire may be expressed economically, academically or athletically. For others, it may be expressed creatively, in paintings, pictures, or inventions

with the esteem needs (level 4 of Maslow’s theory). I think a problem could be embedded within this. esteem for oneself and the desire for reputation or respect from others. a lot of these kids unfortunately lack guidance and knife attack videos spread like wildfire on social media, as part of that vice documentary they interviewed a gang member in London. He said that one of the worst contributing factors to the rise of knife crime is social media. these kids are seeing these attacks all day everyday on their phones, they are completely desensitised to it and they think its ‘cool’. ‘he said ‘people base themselves on what they are watching’. a lot of these young children look up to what is happening, they see how a life of crime can lead to respect, money, they see it as a way to get by and unfortunately for a lot of people, this is the only way to pay the bills. another thing to add to this is that for a lot of these kids, if they survive on commit a knife attack, it is seen as a badge of honour. they’ll happy post a picture of themselves on social media whilst lying in a hospital bed saying they are still alive.

one thing from the above linked page said ‘our most basic need is for physical survival, and this will be the first thing that motivates our behavior’. this could potentially relate to why so many people in heavily effected areas fill the need the carry a knife and also why they seek out joining and being involved with a gang. carrying a knife could give someone a feeling of physical survival. it was said on that Vice documentary that carrying a knife is just normal, its the way life is for many people. it could relate to guns in America, if everyones got one, I'm going to have one too. you don’t want to end up in a situation without it. another thing mentioned in the same doc was by the host, he said ‘when you’re carrying a knife, your fuse is so much shorter’. so it might be making these kids feel safer, stronger, tougher, it could just end up putting you into a situation you wouldn't be in if you just didn't carry one. its not as simple as that unfortunately.

obviously, I don’t really know what im talking about and its very hard to imagine what life is like for people affected by and involved with this. this is a very sensitive issue and I don't want to risk sounding arrogant or naive about it but this is what I gather from the research I have done.

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the-master-cylinder · 4 years

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SUMMARY It is nighttime in a dark, foreboding cemetery. Inside a moss-covered mausoleum, the sound of someone chipping away at the cement crypt bearing the name of Caleb Croft can be heard.

On a nearby college campus, a party at a Fraternity house is celebrating the winning of the 1940 New England Seaboard Conference championship. A young couple, Leslie (KITTY VALLACHER) and her boyfriend Paul (JAY SCOTT), decide they want to be alone and drive off in Paul’s car for the damp and eerie privacy of the cemetery. When Paul slips an engagement ring on Leslie’s finger, she unabashedly leads him to the back seat of the car where they proceed toward love-making, unaware that Caleb Croll (MICHAEL PATAKI) has risen from the grave and is stalking through the cemetery in their direction. With more than human strength. Croft rips the door of the car, brutally murders Paul and when Leslie tries to escape. traps her in an open grave and rapes her.

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Police are puzzled: Paul’s body has been drained of blood, but there is no evidence of it in the car or on the ground where his body was found. When detectives talk to Leslie in her hospital room, she seems unable to comprehend until they show her a photograph of the man who is missing from the crypt, Caleb Croft. Leslie becomes hysterical and the woman in the next bed. Olga (LIEUX DRESSLER), screams at them to leave. Olga is a strong Id and had warned police to leave Leslie alone, stating that she was possessed. Shortly. Leslie will have complete faith in Olga. One of the policemen, Lt, Panzer (ERIC MASON) senses something of the supernatural about the case but cannot express his thoughts officially. After all, Caleb Croft was electrocuted three years ago.

Several months later, when Leslie, now very obviously showing the pregnancy which has resulted from her ordeal in the cemetery, and Olga move into the old house Leslie’s parents have left her. Panzer is on hand to help with the luggage. His offer is spurned but as he turns to leave, he notices another man watching them from a distance. The man turns, gets into a car and drives away. Panzer follows. all the way to the cemetery and the mausoleum where he finds the empty crypt. Croft savagely kills Panzer. His secret is safe.

With Olga acting as midwife, Leslie gives birth to a boy – although doctors have told her the baby was not alive. Unlike normal babies, her baby does not cry. giggle or drink milk. Its color is a sickly grey. Accidentally. Leslie discovers nurses her son by making small cuts on her breasts where the boy feeds. As time passes. Leslie grows weaker, age’s prematurely and goes insane. By the time the boy. James Eastman (WILLIAM SMITH). has grown to manhood. Leslie and Olga have died.

James attends the local university. He is almost devoid of ordinary human reactions. In an anthropology class, he meets Professor Adrian Lockwood. the same man who earlier was Caleb Croft. He is well groomed, about 30 years old and exerts a strange control over everyone in the class. Anne Arthur (LYN PETERS). an extremely attractive girl. finds James mysteriously fascinating. Lockwood in turn has eyes for Anne. Lockwood’s lecture centers on vampires and a legendary figure named Charles Croyden. Croyden’s wife was burned as a vampire in 1846 but Charles was never seen again. James knows that the story is not legend. but fact, and that Croyden is Caleb Croll, who is Professor Lockwood.

Anita Tacoby (DIANE HOLDEN), another very attractive student. tells the class of the existence of a book which links Croyden to Croft. Lockwood finds a small town library where a copy of the book exists: to steal the book and satisfy his lust, he kills the spinster librarian.

That evening, James drops in on a party at the apartment Anita shares with Anne. Not quite at ease, he is about to leave when Anne arrives. tired and more in the mood for a quiet dinner than a party. James offers her the use of his apartment upstairs and they leave. Alone. James finds his human characteristics and emotions emerging as he and Anne fall into an immediate and passionate attraction.

Passion also drives Lockwood to seek Anne. In the middle of the night he goes to her apartment, only to find Anita, who has uncovered his secret and strangely, has fallen in love with him. She asks him to transform her into a vampire to become his wife. Lockwood agrees to comply with her request. then kills her. When Anne returns to her own apartment, she finds Anita’s body in the shower, and Lockwood is still there. Her screams send him running and bring James and other students in the building – Brian (FRANK WHITEMAN) and Tex (INGA NEILSEN). Sam (CARMEN ARGENZIANO) and Carol (ABBI HENDERSON) to the scene. Sam calls the police. Despite the tragedy, James and Anne. Brian and Tex and Sam and Carol meet the following day at Lockwood’s house for a scheduled séance. They are gathered in the room where the seance is to take place when Lockwood enters and announces that Anne will be the medium. When Lockwood tries to call upon his wife, Sarah. it is Anita who answers. She tells everyone that she will assume Anne’s body. but it is her spirit which will serve the vampire. When Anne begins speaking in Anita’s voice. Lockwood takes her face in his hands, urging her to cast Anita out. She does, and passes out. exhausted. When James takes her upstairs. Lockwood turns on the remainder of the group and announces he is going to kill them. Sam pulls a .45 and fires bullets into the professor. The bullets go right through. One by one. Lockwood drains his victims of blood.

James returns to find the doors to the seance room locked. He crashes them open and sees the blood orgy before him. James and Lockwood struggle in fierce combat, which ends when James tells Lockwood that he is his son and has but one purpose: to kill his own father. He rips a post from the banister and drives the pointed stake into Lockwood’s heart. As Lockwood dies, a strange transformation comes over James. As he realizes what is happening, he urges Anne to run away from him. While she hesitates, he feels complete emotion and glories in the evil of being a vampire. Anne screams at the sight of him and runs. James goes after her. to kill her, his face contorted. his fangs hungry for blood.

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BEHIND THE SCENES It is now a well-known bit of trivia that “The Sopranos” creator David Chase wrote Grave, his first feature screenplay. The then-neophyte had been hired by Hayes’ production company Clover Films for some archival tasks, and previously served as production manager on Hayes’ WWII action film The Cut-Throats. In an interview for the Archive of American Television, he remembered, “I was there off and on for a year. They’d hire me, and they wouldn’t have anything and they’d fire me and I had to look for work again, and then they’d have a project and I’d go back, or they’d recommend me to somebody else…it was an internship, essentially.” Hayes suggested the primary father/son vampire concept, and Chase wrote the screenplay, reportedly from an unpublished novel he’d composed called The Still Life. Both men had endured unhappy childhoods – Hayes’ parents had split when he was four and he was raised by his grandmother and an addict uncle, while Chase’s parents fostered an environment of hostility and erratic behavior that often left him physically sick – thus Grave functioned as an exploration for both of them on the effects of youth trauma. Hayes shot the film in 11 days on a $50,000 budget. Of the production, Chase said, “That was sort of during my knocking-around phase…I was starting to learn how it all actually worked. I think I did visit the set once…I wrote the script and then he completely rewrote that. I was invited to the screening, and I was aghast, it was really not what I’d written at all.”

“My last three pictures before ‘Vampire’ were made in Spain, Bolivia and Italy,” William Smith related. “When I finish this picture, I take off for Mexico City, then the Philippines. If I’m lucky, I’ll be making another film in Hollywood before this year is over.

Bill rode his own motorcycle back and forth from his Hollywood Hills home to the set every day while filming “Vampire.”

“Although we were supposed to be filming all over Texas, we seldom left the Universal back lot. And you know. it was nice to go home to your own bed at night.”

The climactic scenes of “Grave of a Vampire.” take place in the darkly paneled rooms of a foreboding looking mansion which is actually located in one of the most elegant sections of Los Angeles.

“We needed a somber looking house where a terrifying seance and the key point of our story take place.” said producer Daniel Cady. “Two vampires go at each other’s throats, fighting up and down wide staircases and crashing through heavy balustrades. We had to have a house to match our bizarre script and we found one.”

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The house which Cady and director John Hayes found is in the Fremont Place area of Los Angeles’ mid-Wilshire district near the famous La Brea tar pits. Like neighboring Hancock Park and Rossmore. Fremont Place is an exclusive residential section where the early wealth of Southern California settled. High walled and formerly guarded by a private patrol, it is an area of mansions built by millionaires. The city of Los Angeles has exploded in all directions in both residential and commercial development but Fremont Place has resisted successfully to this point all attempts at urban progress.

“Some of the mansions which were built for $40-50,000 half a century ago today are being remodeled al costs in excess of $200,000.” Cady said. “Such was not the case with our house.”

“Our” house was built in the early 1920’s and contains 18 rooms plus an entry hall big enough to hold a party of 200 people dancing to Lawrence Welk’s orchestra-using the stairway landing as a bandstand. Its present owner is a retired clergyman who also has deed to a couple of other mansions in the area. In his heyday, the reverend was a legitimate but highly controversial figure when Los Angeles was the mecca for high powered religionists of varying persuasions-and credentials.

“There was one advantage filming there,” director Hayes said. “We did quite a bit of night shooting-and we never had to worry about our leading ladies wandering very far from the cameras. The far reaches of the house at night were almost as frightening as what we were doing in front of the camera.”

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CAST/CREW Directed John Hayes

Produced Daniel Cady (producer)

Written David Chase (screenplay) John Hayes (screen treatment)

Based on The Still Life by David Chase

William Smith as James Eastman Michael Pataki as Caleb Croft/Professor Lockwood Lyn Peters as Anne Arthur Diane Holden as Anita Jacoby Lieux Dressler as Olga Eric Mason as Lieutenant Panzer Jay Adler as Old Zack Jay Scott as Paul William Guhl as Sergeant Duffy Margaret Fairchild as Miss Fenwick Carmen Argenziano as Sam Frank Whiteman Abbi Henderson as Carol Moskowitz Inga Neilsen Lindis Guinness Kitty Vallacher as the unwilling mother

CREDITS/REFERENCES/SOURCES/BIBLIOGRAPHY thenewbev Grave of the Vampire (1972) Movie Pressbook

Grave of the Vampire (1972) Retrospective SUMMARY It is nighttime in a dark, foreboding cemetery. Inside a moss-covered mausoleum, the sound of someone chipping away at the cement crypt bearing the name of Caleb Croft can be heard.

#70sFilms

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