#sorry for getting attached to side characters who are dead or were supposed to die. i will do it again

[disastrousfeline]

have this with 0 context

[boldlyvoid]

Wheels Up

Characters: Spencer Reid, Reader (Y/N), Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Savannah Hayes, Emily Prentiss, Elle Greenaway, Tara Lewis, Jennifer Jareau, Matt Simmons, Luke Alvez

Summary: JJ goes on maternity leave, Spencer falls in love with her replacement that he's supposed to be mentoring, Emily Prentiss and Elle Greenaway work a case together that brings Simmons and Alvez in for help...

Warnings: Genius!Reader, mutual pining, idiots in love, drinking, star gazing, lots of fluff, mentions of past assault, grooming, drug addiction, spencer's trauma, Abductions, Rape, Murder (typical canon violence)

word count: 9.4K

a/n: this is for @starry-eyed-spence and @simmonsmilf CM fanfiction week, Day One: Favorite Character... only I couldn't pick just one.

To say Spencer fell in love at the least opportune time was a bit of an understatement. Everyone he’s ever come close to admitting his love to has either left him or died. Now he’s stuck with loving someone in secret, keeping it to himself and hoping that one day she’ll love him back.

He fell in love with a co-worker once again… which wasn’t the worst thing, office romances happen and it’s quite frankly all Rossi’s fault that they even had to worry about fraternization policies. The part that makes liking Y/N so difficult is that he’s supposed to be her mentor, he’s 5 years older than her, and if he was to ever make a move she would feel inclined to reciprocate in order to keep her job because that’s the unfortunate truth behind office relationships with significant differences in positions.

And worst of all… she doesn’t like him that way at all. She’s called him the brother she always needed, a best friend, the best mentor ever. She wasn’t interested in him in the slightest.

“And why would she be?” He’s said this to everyone who knew about his crush on her. “I’m old and boring and she’s so cool?”

But he didn’t get it. He didn’t understand that every time she asked him to hang back to help her file something, or when they would buddy up in hotel rooms to discuss cases all night and end up down some star trek rabbit hole instead, every time he talked to her she was falling in love with him right back.

It once again all circles back to Rossi, if it wasn’t for him, Spencer wouldn’t even know her. She wouldn’t have ever been introduced to the unit, he wouldn’t be attached to her at the hip and he probably wouldn’t be as happy as he is with her in his life. Even if she wasn’t his girlfriend.

He’ll never forget the day Rossi asked him to meet her, to help her settle in…

“Spencer, can I talk to you for a minute?” Rossi called him into his office.

He sighed, putting his book down and walking up the stairs to his office. He closed the door behind himself and smiled awkwardly, “what’s up?”

“Sit,” he gestures to the chairs in front of his desk, where Spencer pulls one out and proceeds to sit down, anxiously. “As you know, both Kate and JJ will be out of the field in the next few months to have their babies and we need to bring someone in to fill the void until they return, so I reached out to the academy to see if they have any up and coming Dr. Reid like agents that they could loan us.”

“Why?” Spencer laughs at the choice of words.

“Well, honestly, why get new 2 agents when we could have two Reid’s? JJ will be back after a month or 2, it’s better to have more brains than brawn.”

“So they found someone and you want me to be their chaperone?” Spencer clues in. “Who are they?”

“Y/N Y/L/N, she’s a wonderful agent, but she’s pretty quiet, I don’t know much about her personally.” Rossi prefaces. “She’s a genius, high IQ like yours and just a plethora of knowledge inside that mind of hers. You’ll like her.”

“Alright,” he nods. “When do they start?”

“When JJ’s water breaks, but I’d like you to meet them and maybe even have them shadow you for a day?” Rossi asks, “I’ve actually arranged for you both to get dinner at a friend's restaurant?”

“Is this an arranged date or purely business? Don’t send me in there blind,” he worries. “I need at least a week's prep before I go on a date again.”

“It’s not a date, kid,” Rossi laughs. “She's just a lot like you were when I met you, and I know from watching you all these years that it’s not easy to do it alone, so can you just walk them through it?”

“Of course.”

That first dinner Rossi set up for them was more exquisite than either of them prepared for.

They spent the whole night discussing dissertations and their independent journeys through becoming a genius. He understood perfectly why Rossi and the Academy would think she was a lot like him, she was a genius, but she was awkward. It took a while for her to break out of her shell and open up, but by the end of the night, he already knew they were going to be friends.

“So,” she smirks, “would you mind telling me honestly how hard this job is?”

“Why?”

She sighs, “I’ve heard a lot about Thee Doctor Reid and how you were the youngest hired to the BAU and all the shit you’ve been through.”

“What are the rumours these days?” He awkwardly smiles back, rolling his eyes slightly.

“That you were brain dead in a cemetery from an overdose and yet you’re so smart you came back from the dead to kill the unsub and escape…” she looks more and more disappointed in the rumour as she tells it.

His tongue hits the roof of his mouth as he opens it to speak, making a tsk noise as he shakes his head. “Well, I did OD but it was the unsubs main personality that resuscitated me.”

“Holy shit,” she whispers.

He nods, “what about you? I’m sure you have a reputation based on a rumour?”

She presses her lips together the way he always did, just as awkward. She sighs, huffing the air out of her nose and looking fed up. “I was groomed and assaulted by an older boy who then told kids I had a stalkerish crush on him so if I was to ever tell anyone what happened, then no one would believe me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Spencer knows the words don’t make up for what happened. “I’m guessing that’s why you wanted to get into profiling?”

She nods, “I got away with some PTSD and trust issues, most girls go through much worse… they deserve someone who gets it to look into their cases.”

Spencer nods. “That’s how I felt after my kidnapping too. It took a while for me to look at crime scene photos and not think about how they felt, and wonder why I lived when so many die?”

“I’ve never been a religious person,” she prefaces. “But I do believe we are here for a reason. Whether you choseto be here after your last life or this is some learning opportunity, or God is actually real? And you’re supposed to do good.”

“In narcotics anonymous, they reference god a lot, it’s helpful for the addicts, but I never get into it,” he opens up with her more than he’s ever opened up with any friend. “If my Devine purpose is to suffer in order to relate to those I’m supposed to help that’s a load of bullshit… honestly, I can get pretty angry thinking about why I’ve gone through what I’ve gone through doing this job, but it’s not as bad as what happened to me growing up, and it leads me to believe that I probably wouldn’t have had an easy time no matter how I live.”

She nods, “I know, I get that.”

“Sorry,” he snaps out of it. “I didn’t mean to trauma dump on you.”

“It’s exactly what I asked for actually,” she reminds him with a soft smile. “If you can still come to work every day, after all that, you must be incredibly strong— and if I’m anything like you the way people say I am, I guess I can do it too.”

He had no idea she would end up being his best friend.

She shadowed him just once in the office, picked up everything right off the bat and immediately made a name for herself in the unit. Derek tried multiple names on her before one stuck, and they knew it stuck when even Hotch called her Baby Genius.

She brought a different knowledge base to the team, similar to Spencers but visibly younger. She fit in with the crowds of kids they had to interview, she understood why kids reacted the way they did to trauma and abuse, and she was still a kid at heart. It was the reason Spencer fell for her.

She allowed him to feel free again. They went out together outside of work, going to events he always wanted to go to with a partner but never had a chance. She loved all the same things as him, and she takes him to places he’d never imagine enjoying before her.

Like laser tag… that was an afternoon he’ll never forget with her.

When JJ went into labour, that’s when Y/N started full time and Hotch hired Tara Lewis in the same week. The team barely had time to adjust to being undermanned before they were restocked.

Joining Spencer every morning for every case, she waited out front of her apartment for him to pick her up most mornings, sticking to his side throughout the long days and nights until he drove her home again. Even at work, they were partnered up for everything: heading to the M.E. together, bouncing facts back and forth at the precinct, playing good cop bad cop with perverts, and her personal favourite… Making the geoprofile.

And Spencer liked doing that part with her as well. Because it typically meant they were completely alone in a room, spreading out a map and leaning in close to each other as they placed every sticker and marker. Brushing hands, bumping shoulders, longing glances as they made connections… he also just liked to watch her hands move.

She was delicate and careful and precise… and he was falling in love with everything about her as the days went by.

Everyone on the team had noticed. It was really hard not to when they’ve all known Spencer for almost 11 years now. He was so different with her in his life, he was happy and giddy and dressing even better than before. His hair was perfect and he was glued to Y/N’s side. Or she was glued to his.

Even though they were mentally similar, physically they were polar opposites. Y/N wore all black and was a lot more outgoing than they expected. Rossi thought she’d be quiet… But she was constantly talking. To Spencer, to other officers, to witnesses, she never stopped talking and starting conversations, and thank god she did because she’s cracked 4 cases that way.

The biggest surprise the team learned about her happened on a case in Florida, a shooting in a local park in broad daylight with lots of witnesses meant the whole team was on the boardwalk asking questions. She went out to do her thing, talking to the local skaters, asking them if they knew anything but they didn’t want to cooperate.

They were too cool for the feds.

“Can I see your board?” She asks, “if I do some tricks will you answer some questions for me and Doctor Reid?”

“Knock yourself out,” one of the boys laughs as he hands her his board.

She hands Spencer her gun and shoots him a wink before taking off to do a few tricks. The whole team watches in awe then as Y/N showed off. Cruising along the halfpipe effortlessly like she was a professional.

“Okay Tony Hawk,” Morgan teases her, “where did that come from?”

“Skateboarding is easy, it’s just physics,” she shrugs. “I can figure skate too…”

“What do you want to know?” The boy takes his board back. “We always see some sketchy guys around here.”

Morgan pats Y/N on the back with a smile, applauding her ability to get anyone to open up before leaving her to take the statement.

“Agent?” One of the girls pulls her aside just before they are about to leave, “how did you do that kickflip? I’ve been trying to learn and the boys won't help me.”

“Sure thing,” she takes the girl's board and demonstrates a kickflip first.

“So, you see as I start the kickflip I bend my knees?” She shows her another kickflip all while explaining it. “Much like the with an ollie, I’m building pressure so I can apply it to the tail, making the board pop. The one thing that makes this trick different from the ollie is that instead of sliding my foot up, I just flick my toe out to the right of the board, by doing this, the board flips in a 360-degree motion.

She demonstrates again and it’s another flawless kickflip, and a huge smile on her face as Spencer watches her.

“How fast the board spins depends on how much force I put into it when I flick it out. As soon as the board flips in a full 360, your feet should connect and drive the board back to the ground.”

She hands the board back to the girl, “your turn.”

She takes a deep breath and shakes her nerves out before taking off on her board, looping around and carefully bending her knees, she follows every step and it’s a flawless kickflip.

“Flawless!!” Y/N claps. “Those boys better watch out, you’re a natural.”

“Thank you,” she wraps her arms around Y/N and gives her a hug, “it’s taken me so long to be able to do that, you’re so cool.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiles. “Good luck out there.”

She waves as she takes off on her board, leaving Y/N with a smile as she turns to Spencer. “I miss being that age and thinking everything is so cool.”

“You are really cool,” he agrees. Smiling softly as a blush fills his cheeks. “You’re always surprising me. Is there anything you can’t do?”

She laughs, “yeah the one thing I want to do the most.”

“Which is?”

She sighs, “maybe I’ll tell you someday.”

—

He’s sitting beside Penelope and Savannah, watching Derek and Y/N get drinks for what’s left of the group as the night drags on.

“When are you going to tell her?” Savannah asks.

“What?” Spencer pretends he doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

“You have a crush on the new girl…” she pokes his cheek as he blushes and gives it away. “Tell her, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“She could feel forced to say yes because I’m a supervisory special agent and she isn’t and she wants to keep her job so she feels like she needs to,” Spencer worries. “I want her to like me back because she fell for me and I want her to initiate it because then I’ll know it’s not just a power dynamic issue.”

“Have you tried asking her, genius?” Penelope teases. “Because if you asked her then you’d know she has a crush on you and she’s afraid you’ll turn her down because you’re an SSA and she isn’t.”

“When did you hear that?”

Penelope pretends to lock up her lips and throw away the key, making Savannah laugh loud enough to get Derek's attention at the bar. When he and Y/N return, that’s when the questions start.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Spencer gets up and leaves the booth, walking out towards the smokers' exit at the back of the bar, getting a moment of semi-fresh air to think about what Penelope said.

“Spence?” She calls to him from the door, “are you okay? Can I come out here?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Sorry, I needed some air, it’s nothing.”

“Do you need a hug? I read it helps the most when people are stressed out,” she plays it off with a shrug.

“So you do have a crush on me?”

“She told you?” Her face lights with fury, “what the fuck, Penelope?”

“She didn’t mean to,” he tries to cover it up. “It was only brought up because I have feelings for you as well.”

Her eyes widen, her brows raise and her mouth slowly opens as she freezes.

“Y/N?”

She blinks a few times and shakes her head, “impossible. There’s no way.”

He laughs, “I’ll take that hug now?”

She lunges for him and wraps her arms around him so tight. Breathing him in, her hands wander his back as she takes in every second if it and he does the same. He can’t believe she’s that close to him, her hair smells nice and she’s so soft in his arms.

It’s quiet outside, they can hear the music behind the door, the people in the ally talking and the crickets in the night. It’s just them outside, holding each other in the smoking section with smiles on their faces, amazed that it’s finally happening.

“Can we keep this between us?” She whispers into his ear. “Just for a bit? I don’t want to go through all the paperwork and have to separate in the field if it doesn’t work out?”

“Wait,” Spencer pulls back. “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”

She nods, “well yeah isn’t that what happens when two people have a mutual crush? They date?”

“Okay,” he smiles, staring at her lips and then flicking his gaze back to hers with a blush. “I have more than a crush on you, I really, really like you.”

“Prove it,” she teases, “let's go on a real date soon?”

“You know what, let’s get out of here. I have something I want to show you,” he takes her hand and waits for her to nod.

“Take my lead okay? You don’t feel good and you’re going to wait outside while I say goodbye,” she has a plan right away

“After you,” he holds the door open for her and lets her inside first.

—

“I’m taking Spencer home, he’s not doing well,” she’s a much better actress than Spencer expected, patting his back and watching him leave the bar before her like she asked him to do. “He’s really anxious?”

Penelope looks worried, “oh no, I fucked up. I told him you like him.”

She just shrugs, “if he didn’t know that already then I guess he’s not as smart as he pretends to be.”

“See,” Derek looks at Savannah. “I told you everyone else also thinks he’s faking being that smart.”

“Shut up,” she shoves him and turns her attention back to Y/N. “Go make him feel better, he’ll like your company.”

“I’ll see you guys at work on Monday,” she waves them goodbye, surprised they bought it as she rushes her way back outside to Spencer.

He’s already in his car, engine running and waiting for her with a smile. “Come on,” he hurries her inside and is taking off down the road before she even has her seatbelt on yet.

“What’s the rush, Spence? It’s only 1 in the morning I’m sure tones of places are open still?” She teases.

“You’re going to like this, I used to go here all the time when I started with the bureau,” he explains, leaving the main road to take a back root, and eventually they’re driving on gravel.

“If you’re taking me here to murder me this is a dumb way to do it because they all know I left with you,” she teases. “At least when you go to get rid of me, do yourself a favour and dig 6 one-foot holes instead of one 6 foot hole…”

He laughs, “would you really give your murderer tips?”

She nods, “my goal would be to piss him off so much he either lets me go or murders me quickly. I don’t want to go through all the pain.”

“It’s not fun, that’s for sure,” he shrugs it off but she knows it hits too hard.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, reaching her hand out for his to hold by the gear shift. “I think you’re like the strongest guy in the world, you know that, right?”

“Why?” He asks as if that's a preposterous thing to say.

“I think if I got kidnapped and tortured at 24 I wouldn’t still be working in the FBI,” she admits. “I barely made it through the academy, I know this job is intense but I don’t think I could handle being in that situation.”

“If it’s up to me,” Spencer squeezes her hand tighter and brings it to his lips for a kiss. “You’ll never experience anything like that.”

He’s so good at making her feel safe that she almost believes he has the power to do that. He would do anything and everything to move fate for her safety.

He turns down another back road then, around the edge of a lake and towards a clearing. He follows old tire tracks and parks by the dock. “I found this spot one night on a random drive to clear my head.”

“I thought you hated driving?” She quizzes him.

He shrugs, “I like to drive at night when no one else is on the road because then I don’t really have to worry about anyone else. I hate driving because I can’t always anticipate other drivers' movements. If I could read minds, then I’d drive more.”

“Valid,” she nods, “now why is this such a special spot that you needed to show me right away?”

“Well, I have a telescope and it’s been in my trunk for the last 13 years so that every time I come here, I can look up at the moon…”

“You brought me here to look at the moon with you?” She swoons, “that’s so cute.”

“You think?” He looks like his heart is doing the same swelling as hers.

She gets out of the car before she can lean over and kiss him the way she wants to. In his trunk, he does have a telescope, and a blanket, which they set out on the dock and sit upon.

The sound of the lake, the loons in the distance, frogs and crickets and music travelling from somewhere down the lake. The moon was big, the stars were amazing, and this was the closest she has ever seen them. It's amazing, and of course, it was Spencer showing her everything.

He was everything to her.

And it didn’t take long for him to become everything to her either.

Joining the BAU was a dream to many at the academy, but Y/N never thought that she would get the job, overjoyed that she did. They were a family unit; they got the job done, they protected each other, and it was a wonderful environment to be a part of. She obviously liked Spencer the most out of everyone. He took her in, he made her feel comfortable and safe and she opened up more with him than she has with anyone she’s labelled a “best friend” in the past.

She liked everything about him. The way he talked with his hands, how his sweater, vest, shirt and tie always match, his gun looks a little out of place on his belt, like it’s too big for him, but it’s cute. His hair’s been getting longer too, sometimes he wears glasses and sometimes if she’s lucky, he doesn’t shave every day.

She can’t take her eyes off him when he’s busy and won't notice, just to then move her focus away when he stared at her. She only wishes she could see the way he stares at her in awe, because if it’s anything like how she looks at him, he must love her.

She keeps her hand in his, trading the telescope back and forth in turns, her face was close to his every time they switched and she kept getting bolder with each exchange. Letting Spencer look, she kept her face close to his, kissing his cheek softly as soon as he was busy peering up at the moon.

He turned to her with a gasp, “what was that for?”

“You’re cute,” she shrugs. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while.”

“How long?” He teases, leaning in closer and kissing her nose to make her laugh.

“Since you dropped me off at my house after that first dinner…”

“So this is me,” she nods out the window, “thank you for the ride, I appreciate not having to be in an Uber all by myself.”

“Anytime you need a ride, you can give me a call?” He asks. “Seeing as we’ll be going to the same place anyway.”

She nods with a smile, “I’d love that, do you live close to here?”

“Just up the street,” he nods. “So we could carpool?”

“I can drive some days if you want?” She asks, “I know you mostly take the subway, and I know that because I’ve seen you reading on there before.”

He can’t help but smile, “so you never thought to say hello?”

“No,” she shakes her head, “you looked peaceful, and I’m sure you don’t get many moments like that in your line of work.”

He sighed, knowing she was right. “If it ever gets to be too much for you, please never feel like you have to pretend to be okay? None of us expect you to be stone cold, none of us are either. The job gets to us, just tell me if it gets to be too much?”

She looks from his lips back to his eyes and over again, “thanks, Spencer.”

He does the same to her, “anytime. Should I walk you to your door?”

She shakes her head, “that’s okay you’ve done enough for me tonight.”

“Fair enough,” he laughs. “Have a good night Y/N.”

“You too, Spencer,” she smiles before she exits his car, smiling at him from her porch before he drives away.

“So it’s been mutual this whole time?” He shakes his head at the absurdity. “I’ve been so lonely for so long and then I found you and you make me feel like I don’t need to be alone anymore.”

“You complete me too,” she makes one more comment before connecting their lips.

It’s like the world stops then. It’s silent and serene and everything she thought kissing Spencer Reid would be.

She pulls back with a smirk, “oh no.”

“What?” He worries.

“I’m going to want to kiss you all the time now…”

“Good,” he mumbles the words against her lips before reconnecting them.

—

At work on Monday, it’s very hard for them to look at each other without remembering that they’ve kissed. Spencer’s practically glowing with admiration for her that he gives it all away. He’s overly happy, offering to do things for others, standing way too close to her and bringing her coffee all morning.

“Okay, pretty boy,” Derek takes him by the scruff of the neck and redirects him into his office. “What’s going on with you today, I know you’re not this happy for JJ’s return?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you get laid or something?”

Spencer laughs, “no, you know I don’t get laid. You actually remind me of that fact quite often.”

“You’re so happy I’m worried you’ve moved to crack,” he says it. “Okay, you were acting weird on Friday, you missed brunch on Sunday and now you’re waaay too happy.”

“I’m not on drugs again,” Spencer assures him. “I’m just letting myself enjoy my time with Y/N, if she falls in love with me in the meantime that would also be nice.”

“Oh, so you’re doing this to get laid,” Derek teases him again. “That’s good, I’m sorry if I triggered you by asking, but I had to make sure you’re okay.”

“No, no,” he places his hands on Derek's shoulders, “thank you for caring.”

“Always—“

“Guys!” They hear Hotch yelling from the bullpen, cutting the tender moment short, saving Spencer from spilling the truth.

Rushing back, he sits beside Y/N at the briefing room table. “We have a bad one,” Emily Prentiss of all people walks in the door, followed by Elle Greenaway.

“We’ll have time to mingle in a minute, right now there is a woman who needs our help,” he announces.

Spencer quickly reads over the case files, recognizing Elles handwritten notes, she was a private investigator now. “With Penelope’s help, I’ve been able to set up alerts in College chatrooms in the area so that I can help to missing and assaulted women right away.”

“She’s alerted when someone reports a missing woman and she has advertisements for people to reach out to her for help,” Penelope explained.

“I’ve been working on these cases for the last 9 years,” Elle announces. “This morning Aasia Desai called me saying her sister Bahni never showed up for lunch and it’s not like her, we know she went clubbing last night and so far Penelope’s tracked her down an ally and then she’s gone.”

“Her parents are British diplomats so Interpol has asked me to join, luckily I was just in Ontario so it was a short trip over,” Emily adds. “JJ will be here in half an hour for her first day back, and we will celebrate when we can, but I see we have some new faces here?”

“Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N,” she waves, still glued to Spencer’s side. “I’ve heard a lot about you both from Doctor Reid.”

“Doctor Tara Lewis,” she stands and shakes Emily’s hand, and then Elles.

“So it says here that the first missing case was in 2006 just after you left the BAU?” Spencer changes the subject before anyone can pry into why he would be telling her about the women who worked there before her.

“I did,” Elle nods. “I was too late for her, by the time her parents realized she was missing and called me in the case was cold. I started this as a way to get ahead of it.”

“How long has she been missing?” Tara asks.

“She was last seen at 1:07 this morning,” Elle confirms. “We have 25 hours, maybe, to beat the odds.”

“Reid,” Hotch cuts in, “I would like you and Elle to go check out the street she was last seen on, find any private cameras or anyone who might have seen something.”

He turns to Y/N who just shrugs in silence; “it’s fine.”

“Tara and Derek, I’d like you to interview Aasia when she and JJ get here, Garcia can you do a deep dive into Bahni’s spending and academic records?”

“Sure thing,” she starts clicking away on her computer immediately.

“And Y/N,” Elle looks at her. “I need you to go over the footage of the man who followed her to the alley and get familiar with his face. We’re using you as the face of the investigation to hopefully draw the unsub out.”

“How would she be able to do that alone?” Spencer gets defensive, a way he used to with JJ when she was the media liaison.

“If she goes on the news and makes Bahni seem like a person while describing the unsub as someone who can help solve the case, it will draw him out,” Emily explains for Hotch, who is glaring at Spencer for second-guessing the plan already.

“And she’s college-age,” Elle adds. “If that’s who he’s been going after all this time he will want to come in and talk IF he can talk to her.”

She places her hand on his leg under the table, “it’s a good plan.”

“It is,” Hotch agrees.

“What do you not have a saying to replace wheels up when they stay in town?” Elle teases him.

“Wheels away?” Emily joins her, “that works?”

“just get to work,” Hotch tries not to smirk at them.

Spencer stands up to leave with Elle, “can I just talk to Spencer before he leaves?” She carefully asks Hotch.

“Make it quick,” he agrees reluctantly and lets her follow him down to his desk.

Spencer rests his hands on the back of his desk chair, holding it tightly in an attempt to calm himself down.

“I’m going to be fine,” she assures him. “I don’t think the guy on the tape took her, we’d see him leave if he did.”

“Unless he lives in the alley,” Spencer combats. “Can you ask Penelope to do a background check on all the cars coming in and out of the campus and that street between midnight at 2 am?”

She nods, placing her hand on his gently. “Good luck out there, okay?”

He nods, “it’s been 2 days they’re going to know by the end of the week.”

She laughs, “so be it.”

He says fuck it right then and there, wrapping her up in a hug and kissing the top of her head as the team watches in the briefing room. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yes you will,” she smacks his side as he lets her go. “If you’re going to make a scene at least give me a real kiss.”

“Hmm,” he teases. “No cause then I’d have to sign some paperwork and I’ve got to go…” he starts to back away.

“Coward,” she teases.

He just shrugs, meeting Elle by the door and heading towards the elevators in silence.

She doesn’t ask, not even when they get to the garage or inside the SUV. They’re driving down the road for maybe 2 minutes when Elle finally brings it up. “So—”

“What do you want to know?”

“It's that easy now? What happened to you?” She teases. “You’re so different from the baby Spence I left.”

“Well you missed my drug problem, my dad being a possible child molester, getting shot in the knee, getting shot in the neck, my girlfriend dying, and now my mom might have Alzheimer's so you know… I had to grow up a bit,” he lays it all out for her to ask any question she wants.

“Why don’t you ever call me? I would have been there for you through anything,” she reminds him.

“I know that,” he reaches over for her hand, “thank you. But I was a big fan of suffering in silence… and now I have Y/N and she makes me feel normal?”

“That’s good, you deserve some fraction of normal in your life and she’s really cute,” Elle smiles back at him before returning her focus to the road. “How old is she?”

“27,” he smiles. “She’s the best.”

“You love her,” Elle notices it.

He presses his lips together to fend off a smile as he nods, “I think I do.”

“Tell her, you deserve to hear that someone loves you back.”

—

She’s anxiously tapping her foot as she waits for the elevator to arrive with the suspect, Rossi standing just behind her. Only 15 minutes after being on the news, the man that was in the security footage contacted them. Making his way over for a voluntary interview.

He looks Y/N up and down with a smile, “I heard you were looking for me.”

“I sure was,” she plays along with it, smiling and making him think she’s interested as well. “I knew you’d get the message, we just need all the help we can get right now.”

“Of course,” he has his ego stroked so well that they can roll with it.

“Would you mind coming with me and Agent Rossi to talk about everything you saw?” She batts her lashes at him, really selling it.

“Sure,” he follows them down the hall.

Rossi opens the door and lets them in first, letting her get him settled and a glass of water. “So you can tell me everything from that night?”

“Sure,” he nods, explaining his taxi job, his run for the night and his alibi.

“So why did you step back into the doorway?” She asks as she sits in front of him. Straight-faced as she catches him off guard.

“Excuse me?”

“You stepped out of the way to let her pass and then followed her, she made no motion to say she wanted your services, so I’m just wondering why you would follow her before she disappeared?”

“Huh,” he suddenly feels played and his personality switches. “I thought this was just a chat?”

“I’m simply asking you questions? If you don’t have answers that makes you suspicious. An innocent person would have given me an answer,” she fights back.

“She’s right, you got very defensive very fast,” Rossi finally speaks up.

He shakes his head with a huff. “I was going to ask if she needed a ride, she looked pretty messed up. And then some guy came over and wrapped his arm around her and they walked off. They seemed to know one another. I thought she was safe in his hands.”

Only his tone doesn’t match the words. He sounds jealous— It’s not like she would have been a large tab, he wasn’t jealous because he lost a customer. No, he’s jealous like someone stepped in and prevented him from snatching an easy victim.

“Fair enough,” she pretends to believe him. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

“I can go now?” He changes right back to confused.

She nods, “I’ll escort you down if you’d like?”

“Thanks,” he stands and follows her to the door where Rossi stops her.

“Are you sure?”

She nods, “I’ll be back up shortly.”

She catches up with him by the elevators, “did you have to drive far to get here?” She makes small talk.

“Not really,” he shakes it off. “I like your necklace.”

She touches her necklace and her face drops, “thanks.”

“Necklaces are my favourite.”

“You don’t wear any?” She notices in the form of a question.

He shakes his head as the elevator opens at the ground level. “I think they’re nice gifts.”

She nods along, pretending that didn’t set off every ret alert and alarm in her mind, “well here you are. Thanks again for all the help.”

“No problem,” he goes to leave, turning to stop and block the doors from closing. “If you want, later tonight I can show you everything I saw at the alley?”

“Yeah, sure,” she agrees with no plan to go.

“8 pm? At Cafe Linda?”

“See you then,” she agrees and he steps back letting the door close and then she loses her cool.

Feverishly smashing the floor 6 button, and begging to make it back up to Hotch to tell him everything. But she also just wants to cry but she holds it in as she makes it to their floor matching past Rossi and right into the briefing room.

“He may not be our unsub but that man is a creep,” she announces. “He not only complimented my necklace but he asked me to come to the alley tonight so he can walk me through what he saw.”

“You’re not going,” Hotch announces.

“I didn’t plan to,” she snaps. “I think we need to look into him because he’s either giving little girls necklaces to keep them quiet or he’s taking necklaces after he kills women.”

“Kathy’s parents said she was in a necklace when she went missing,” Emily adds. “His connection to this case and being at NYU right before she went missing gives us enough probable cause for a search warrant.”

Hotch sighs, “fine. I’ll call a judge, you and Y/N can go and search his place.”

“So shouldn’t we arrest him before he leaves the building?” Morgan asks.

“He’s still in the garage, I’ve let the security know to stop him and arrest him at the gate,” Garcia adds, listening in and planning in advance.

“Thank you,” Hotch smiles at her, “you’re always reading my mind.”

Garcia smiles back at him, “always, sir.”

“Okay, let’s go,” she looks at Emily and waiting for her to turn to leave the room.

“Let’s,” she motions for Y/N to take the lead and follows.

The drive to his house is so weird… she doesn’t quite know how to talk to Emily, knowing only slightly about her and her knowing nothing about Y/N.

“So how long have you and Spencer been dating?” Her first question just gets right to the point.

She laughs awkwardly, “3 days…”

“Oh…”

She hums as she nods along, looking out the window and avoiding Emily’s eye contact. “It’s new, we’re both pretty infatuated with each other but we’re taking it slower than most people because I’m afraid to let my feelings change how I do the job.”

“Makes sense,” Emily replies. Her voice is so sweet, she has an aura of calm that follows her and lets Y/N feel safe. She gets why Spencer said she was his best friend on the team before her.

“The necklace comment… why did it make you so wary of this guy?”

“When I was in middle school a guy gave me a necklace while he was grooming me,” she whispers. Looking out the window and pretending it doesn’t bother her now. “It’s fine, I don’t have it anymore, but I knew this guy had that same vibe.”

Emily put her hand out, letting Y/N interlock their fingers and hold it. “I know I just met you, but you’re family now. I’m here if you’re ever suddenly not fine with it anymore…”

“Thanks,” she smiles. “Let’s get this fucker.”

—

By the time the warrant went through, Spencer and Elle had joined them to search the first suspect's house while Emily left to help the rest of the team with suspect two. Tracking all the license plates in the area like Spencer suggested lead them to a Chinese food delivery driver in the area.

That didn’t stop Y/N from destroying her suspect's house. They tore the house apart, searching every nook and cranny for any answer that would make sense. She was tempted to lift the floorboards up, call in SCSI to run ground-penetrating radar and search the fucking walls if they had to.

But then she found it.

A small metal box in the laundry room contained some tools and when she lifted up the fake bottom, she found 5 necklaces.

“Elle!!” She yelled through the house.

They both came running down the hall to her, “is this Kathy’s necklace?”

“Oh my god,” she whispered with a nod.

“I want to kill this guy,” she mumbles under her breath as she places the necklaces back in the box and closes it up.

“Spencer doesn’t need another girl he has a crush on to murder someone and get kicked out of the bureau,” Elle teases.

“What?” Y/N asks.

“Way to go,” Spencer nudges her.

Y/N stands up with the box and slides it into a large evidence bag before taping it up. “I guess he has a type then.”

“I don’t,” Spencer tries to cover up. “I mean, if I do then it’s people who are nice to me…”

She smiles at him, unable to even pretend to be jealous or mad. “It’s hard to be mean to you when you’re so cute.”

“Ew,” Elle announces her disgust as she leaves the room.

“Let’s get out of here before I end up kissing you in a murderer's laundry room,” Spencer teases, taking her hand and leading her out of the house as the rest of the forensics team takes over the bagging of evidence.

“Guys,” Elle rushes back to them with her phone pressed to her ear. “We have a bigger problem than we thought with Bahni.”

They rush into the SUV, putting the team on the speaker to hear the most unthinkable. “So I did what Y/N suggested and searched every single driver coming in and off-campus and the last street she was seen on,” Penelope explains back. “And I came across a man who was delivering Chinese food under the name Tom Larson… and it’s ironic his name is tom because he has a plethora of peeping offences and general creepiness alongside a metric shit-ton of abuse from his dad and dead mother.”

“Okay?” Elle follows.

“Tom Larson lives near Bahni,” Emily explains, “I was just at his house where I found him and his father had been murdered.”

“So we have not 1 but 3 creeps in this case, and none of them are who took Bahni?” Spencer rubs his eyes. “Please tell me we know who was in Tom’s car last night.”

“That’s where it gets tricky,” Penelope says with the doles tones of keys clicking behind her words. “We were just contacted by the fugitive Taskforce because they believe one of the murderers they’ve been tracking took Bahni… but he has ties to a much larger scale global sex trafficking ring.”

Elle flies through the streets with their lights on, pulling back into headquarters and right up to the security check. “So who is this guy?”

“Once you get back up here, Agent Simmons and Alvez will explain everything,” Hotch confirms. “I’m taking Derek to see Cruze, we need to tell him what’s going on.”

“Sounds good,” Elle hangs up and throws the SUV in park.

Y/N hesitates, staying put and taking a few breaths as Spencer watches. Elle’s left the car and is already on her way to the elevator. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I just have a hug real quick?”

“Yeah,” he wraps his arms around her and holds her close. “Are you okay?”

She nods against him, “yeah it’s just good to have at least 8 hugs a day.”

“Hug me whenever you need to,” he whispers against her hair, kissing the side of her head before she pulls back.

“Kisses are helpful too?”

He smiles, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers, mumbling against them, “how many?”

She hums, “10?”

He pecks her lips 10 times and counts each one, making her giggle, it takes so much effort to hold her smile back to keep kissing him but she feels much better.

“Thank you,” she beams and she can swear Spencer's eyes sparkle as he smiles back.

She pulls him into another hug, “I hate that we have to go catch a killer right now.”

“Come on then, as soon as we get him we can go on another date somewhere?”

She shakes her head, “after this case I think we should take a nap together… I’m exhausted and I don’t want to let you go.”

Spencer shakes his head in amazement, “you really like me?”

“Yeah, maybe I do,” she teases him. “You should get used to it because it’s only going to get more intense and I will smother you with love.”

He just shrugs, “it’s about time—“

They’re startled with a knock on the window, “we get it you’re in love, can we go now?”

“Sorry!” Y/N calls back with a giggle, pulling him in for one last kiss before getting out. Spencer follows with a deep blush that everyone will see when they get back upstairs, but it looks cute on him.

Luke Alvez has been trying to catch one criminal for the last 2 years. Simon Garrett has been a pain in the ass for the FBI, the CIA and DEA. He first showed up on their radar when his DNA was found on 14 women’s remains, all of who had been missing for at least 5 years.

His DNA was then traced to his son in the foster system, who’s been off the radar for the last 10 years. Everette Garrett.

“Now he’s interesting because I’ve been investigating his sex trafficking ring between Canada and the United States,” Matt adds. “All 14 women his father's DNA was found on were thought to be in his ring, which means when they get too old he hands them to his father to take care of.”

Y/N shakes her head as she listens, “so if you’ve been looking for them for this long what makes you think we can find them in time to save Bahni?”

“We’ve been tracking him for a while, we knew that he had a new girl on his radar and when we heard it was Bahni Desai we knew it was time to get you guys,” Matt explains.

“So far we know that she has to be taken to this warehouse in Alexandria before she goes any further, we’re going to intercept them before they make it to the warehouse and then use their car to gain access to take the whole thing down,” Luke rolls out a map of the facility then.

“We need to have the place surrounded for any runners, SWAT is getting prepped, we’re going tonight at 3 am,” Matt adds. “Morgan, Hotch, Prentiss, Alvez and Myself will be running a team at each of the 5 exits. Once inside, each team's swat unit will deploy gas to carefully knock everyone out, from there we need someone to cuff everyone at least until we know who is a victim and who is working there.”

“We’re taking everyone alive?” Spencer makes sure he hears them right.

“We need to know what the step after this warehouse is if we want to rescue more victims,” Luke’s voice is gentle yet stern as he explains. “I’ve seen this man take too many women from good homes and ruin their lives, I’m not letting him slip out of my fingers.”

“We’ve had this planned for months, we just needed to wait for the next confirmed drop-off.”

“Who’s driving?” Y/N asks, having a feeling it was her and Spencer.

“He’s Reids age,” Hotch announces from the door as he walks in with Cruze, “so we’ll replace Everette with Reid and Bahni with Y/L/N.”

“Rossi and Elle will be there to apprehend Everette, we’re setting up a fake traffic spot to irritate him and inhibit him from running. You two will be in a duplicate car arriving at the warehouse at the arranged time,” Emily confirms. “We just have to prep SWAT and then we can leave.”

“Alright, let’s get ready.”

—

Pretending to be kidnapped in the back of a car driven by her boyfriend was possibly the weirdest way to spend a Tuesday morning. Driving the exact make and model as their unsub, her heartbeat was loud enough to cover the sound of the engine and distract her from the long drive. She was overly anxious, and rightly so, it was her first sting.

And she was doing it all without coffee. Tired but full of adrenaline, she wanted to close her eyes and drift off but she knew she needed to be ready to apprehend the men at the gate with Spencer.

She feels the large bump, indicating they just went over a speed bump and she knows what that means. The car slows and she can hear the muffled talking before swat steps in, soon enough Spencer is cracking the trunk open and reaching in for her.

“Are you okay?” He helps her to her feet and makes sure her bulletproof vest is on right before handing her, her gun and watching her clip it on.

“Yeah, what happened?”

“The guards are down, Swat moved in as soon as we arrived, now we have to stand here and wait for them to clear the building,” Spencer explains as they walk to the front of her car.

She draws her gun and keeps it pointed low, guarded as they watch the front entrance for anyone to escape. “Do you know if Bahni is okay?” She whispers towards him.

He nods, “they radioed in that they got her, she’s being airlifted to the hospital with JJ right now.”

She nods with a deep breath, “okay good.”

“It’s going to be fine, we have enough SWAT here to take the government,” he tries to joke, getting a laugh from one of the officers… very strange to see someone laugh while holding an assault rifle.

One of the swat side steps towards Spencer, “I’m hearing on the line that they’ve cleared every room. They’re cuffing everyone, you’re free to enter.”

“Thanks,” Spencer replies.

The high-pitched screech rubber gripping asphalt in an attempt to stop draws their attention backwards. Elle and Rossi jumping out with their guns drawn, ready to join even though the exciting part is long over.

“No runners?” Elle asks, holstering her weapon. “Aw man, I was excited.”

“Not a one,” Y/N adds, watching the front entrance for the rest of the team to start funnelling out with the unsubs.

Luke exits first with a big smile on his face, Simon Garrett cuffed and barely stumbling out the door in front of him. He finally got him.

“well done,” Elle congratulates him. “Let me help you get him in SWAT van.”

“I think she has a thing for Luke,” Rossi leans into Y/N to gossip. “she wouldn’t stop asking about him on the drive…”

“Ooo,” Y/N teases, getting more and more tired as her adrenaline drops. Her eyes are heavy and Rossi can tell.

“Why don’t I bring you and the good doctor home, I don’t think they need all of us for the wrap-up,” Rossi pats her back. “You’ve had a long night, kid.”

“Thank you,” she smiles, holstering her gun and turning with him towards the SUV. “I’m so exhausted.”

“Well you’ve been on the job for almost 24 hours now, you’ve officially made it through your first overnight sting op,” Rossi congratulates her like he’s her grandpa.

She turns back when she doesn’t hear Spencer following her, “Spence? Are you coming?”

“Um,” he has something to ask as he follows then but he doesn’t say it. “Yeah, sorry.”

“It’s okay, come sit with me in the back?” She asks, sliding in beside him and resting her head on his shoulder as soon as their seatbelts are on.

“Did you still want to have a nap together?” He whispers, feeling her nod against his shoulder before she pulls back.

“Come here,” she tugs him in against her chest, snuggling in as best as she could in their sitting position. Holding him close and feeling him drift off in her arms. She has no problem following suit.

When she wakes, Rossi is parked outside of her apartment, “here you go, Y/N.”

She hums as she comes to, shaking Spencer awake too, “Spence, come on, let’s get to bed.”

“He’s going with you?”

She nods, “don’t tell Penelope. She’ll have a field day, I just want a nap.”

“You better get more than a nap,” Rossi orders. “You guys need to actually rest before you come back to work on Wednesday.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she teases him. “We will.”

“Bye Dave,” Spencer whispers as he gets out of the car. “Thank you for the ride.”

“Anytime kid,” Rossi waves them off, waiting for them to enter the building before driving away.

“Finally,” she sighs, dragging Spencer down the hall and towards her apartment. “I’m so fucking tired.”

“me too,” he barely says.

He follows her inside like a lost puppy, taking off his vest and shirt, slipping out of his pants until he’s in an undershirt, boxers and his mismatched socks. She’s amazed by how comfortable he is with her, but she has known him for 3 months, it’s enough time to fall in love with someone… right?

She’s loved him since she started working with him. When she realized he valued her opinions, he looked at her as a person and he genuinely loved her company. She felt a real connection with him, not just childish infatuation. He was everything to her.

She slides into bed beside him and snuggles in, wrapping an arm around his middle and resting her head on his chest.

“I guess I really can do everything,” she smirks.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She pokes his chest and giggles away the awkwardness, “the thing I wanted to do most, the thing that I couldn’t do… that was to fall in love with you, but I did it anyway.”

“Well, then I guess I can do everything too.”

She pulls away to look at him, “I love you, Spencer. I don’t know if it’s too soon, but I’ve loved you for a while.”

He pulls her in for a kiss, shocking her as he breathes her in and holds her there. “I love you, more Y/N.”

Permanent tag list

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[atlabeth]

nightmares - mike munroe x reader

summary: It was a deal made by two almost-friends in the early hours of the morning after the worst night of their lives, when they realized that all they really had left was each other.

a/n: so this is once again. not my normal content but ive been on an until dawn kick lately and fell in love w the characters all over again. i dont know if anyone still reads or writes for this fandom but. here u go. enjoy

warning(s): lots of cursing, canon typical violence, mentions of graphic violence/death (but nothing too descriptive), mentioned depression, insomnia, and alcoholism, some heavy themes but its hurt/comfort so it ends in fluff

wc: 4.8k

You were running.

You were running, and it was freezing — fuck, it was freezing.

You knew your surroundings; how could you ever forget? Every fucking moment on the goddamn mountain was engraved into your mind for what you assumed would be the rest of your life, an assumption that had since been proven correct.

And now, against your will, you were back. Of course you were back.

A shudder ran through your whole body as that all-too-familiar screech rang out behind you, each second of it like nails on a chalkboard in the worst way. Your lungs burned like all hell but you couldn’t stop — if you stopped, you were as good as dead.

Some part of this fucked up thing was almost funny. Humans were always boasting about how they were the top of the food chain, how they were the height of evolution. There was nothing to keep an ego in check like being hunted by a supernatural creature.

Any thoughts of bullshit philosophy were dashed from your mind as you took a hard right, nearly falling over from the sharp curve of the mountain but just able to catch yourself. Your heart was thundering in your chest, the beats nearly lining up with your sprinting. You felt an intense urge to turn around, try and gauge your chances, but the thought of slowing down for even a second terrified you. It’s not like you needed to anyways — you knew exactly what was after you.

You were nearing the end of your road, both literally and figuratively. You stumbled over a tree root, your hands splayed out in front of yourself at just the right angle to keep your momentum going and, in some feat of luck, stay upright and running.

But your luck had just run out.

Your senses were proven correct as the harrowing cliff edge came into view, and a thousand things screamed in your mind at once as your demise stared you right in the eye. You barely managed to catch yourself, very much aware that the snow falling into the void could’ve just as well been you.

That fucking screech again, even closer than before, and you whipped around as you took an instinctive step back. Your hands patted around everywhere, searching for something to defend yourself, but you had nothing. No gun, knife, even the ground around you was devoid of rocks.

You had nothing. You had nothing to defend yourself from this goddamn nightmare creature, and you were going to die.

Your eyes darted around wildly in an attempt to find something, anything, to save yourself, but there was nothing. You took another step back and felt your foot slip, your breath catching as you barely managed to save yourself with a twist and a lunge away from the edge. The shock of the ground and the cold against your skin was just enough to remind yourself that you were actually alive. Another pile of snow mimicked the fate that seemed imminent as it trickled over the side of the cliff, and you screwed your eyes shut as you tried to shut your mind up.

Think, goddammit, if you wanted to get off of this fucking mountain you had to think—

The screech that pierced through the night sky was far too close for comfort, and as your head snapped back towards the woods you swore that your heart stopped beating.

It had caught up. You were out of time you were going to die but you didn’t have anything and you were going to fucking die—

A flash of white pushed off a tree and lunged towards you, teeth bared as it emitted that horrible screech. You didn’t even have time to scream, completely frozen in place as one clawed hand reached your neck, and you braced for the moment of release.

You shot up in your bed, breathing rapid and unsteady with a barely contained cry on the edge of your lips as your hand instinctively flew to your neck. You heaved an almost strangled sigh of relief to know that your head was still attached to your body (it might’ve seemed obvious, but… your head wasn’t exactly on straight at the moment, all jokes aside) and collapsed against the headboard.

You ran your hands across your face as you tried in vain to calm yourself down, ultimately having to turn on your lamp to ease your troubled mind that there was nothing going thump in the night.

It had been this same routine almost every night — horrible nightmare, wake up crying or screaming or both, and start the day at 3 am because you couldn’t fall back asleep.

It was exhausting. You were exhausted.

You knew you couldn’t go on like this, but what choice did you have? Therapy had been mandated by the police for a certain amount of time after the incident, but… it’s not like it had helped. How could it, when no one truly knew what you had gone through?

Well… that wasn’t completely accurate.

One person knew what you were going through, and you hadn’t said as much as one word to him since that night. You didn’t really… know what to say.

Hey. I know we’re not all that close, but I’m sorry your girlfriend and all your friends were killed by a Wendigo and that I made it instead. Hope you’re not going insane with grief. I’ll send you a card at Christmas!

...yeah. You had no idea what to say to him after months of no contact.

The relationship you had with Mike Munroe was a strange one, to say the least.

None of you were the same after that night on the mountain. The horrors of the mines would be forever entrenched in your head, flashes of the Wendigos appearing every time you closed your eyes. You and Mike were the only ones who made it off, and the guilt you carried everywhere was a burden you knew you couldn’t shoulder. And even after the physical scars had faded, you knew the mental ones never would.

Sometimes you wondered how you had even managed to get involved with the group in the first place — bonds that had been made in your freshman and sophomore years had somehow managed to stay strong enough throughout the rest of high school, strong enough to cement your spot in the friend group and the yearly lodge visits. You liked them all well enough, enough to go up to an isolated mountain with them for a weekend or so, but… yeah. Sometimes you did wonder what the hell you were doing with them.

But now?

Now, you would give almost anything to hear Sam’s laugh or one of her compliments, or tease Ashley and Chris about their very obvious feelings; hell, you found yourself missing Matt’s useless football facts. And even though Emily and Jessica weren’t always the nicest, you still had managed to worm your way into their hearts. Knowing that you would never get Emily’s brutal but helpful advice or get dragged to a football game by Jessica again?

If someone had told you the difference between life-long trauma and a completely normal existence was that blonde girl with the braids in your biology class, you might’ve thought a little harder before accepting that party invite.

The days after you were rescued from the mountain passed in a daze, questions and interrogations from police never sticking for too long. And it didn’t even feel like it mattered, the way none of them seemed to believe you.

They kept you separated from Mike throughout the whole process, and you were only able to catch glances of him when you were being transferred to different rooms throughout the long process. It really was like something out of a horror movie — a group of teens go up to a lodge in the woods, and only two return with a story of unspeakable horrors — and rather than try and work out what had happened, they seemed intent on pinning the deaths on you and Mike.

As if you weren’t dealing with enough after watching your friends get murdered by the monster of another friend, the people that were supposed to be helping you were instead trying to charge you with them. If it wasn’t so fucking infuriating, it would’ve been laughable.

The worst part? You could hardly blame them.

When you took a second to listen to yourself, to what you were spouting to the police, you sounded insane. If you hadn’t witnessed it all first hand, you wouldn’t have believed yourself.

You told them to go down to the mines. That the thing that killed your friends would be down there, and they could see it for themselves.

You didn’t know if that was the right choice. Hell, you might’ve been sending those cops to their deaths. But it was the only way you could think of to get them to believe you.

(You doubted they would go down there anyways. What was the word of two crazy college kids over actual logic? Not much, you imagined.)

You were in that damn interrogation room for what felt like forever until you were finally taken to a hospital to get your wounds treated. But even in the hospital bed, police were by your side asking about what happened every day of your stay. After your discharge, you were forced into custody until they got information that they deemed satisfactory.

By some miracle, you and Mike weren’t charged with anything. The news might’ve gotten hold of your story, but you didn’t know. You didn’t want to know. You didn’t ever look at the news after the tragedy, too afraid that you would see the smiling faces of your friends staring back at you, or pictures of you and Mike with news anchors trying to talk about how involved the two of you were.

If there was one thing worse than going through hell, it was other people trying to make a profit off of your spiral.

Your friends’ families offered their condolences, but not much else. You didn’t hold it against them. Your survivor’s guilt was strong enough to know exactly why they didn’t reach out further.

(You blame yourself for their deaths, after all. Why wouldn’t they?)

It was the same situation with Mike.

Maybe you had purposefully drifted apart from him, trying to build up walls of your own so that he wouldn’t be able to spring it on you first. You assumed he hated you after what had happened, and he had every right to. You might’ve helped each other through the night, but you had no other option. Now, everyone else but you was dead — people he cared about more than you — and you just couldn’t face that.

But as you stared at yourself in your bathroom mirror, you realized that you might have to.

You looked awful.

Weeks of sleepless nights were catching up to you, appearing in the form of

hollow eyes and dark circles, along with a slight discoloration of your skin. The scars from the mountain had mostly healed, but there was a particularly nasty gash on your cheek that was still showing — it wasn’t doing you any favors in the ‘looking completely normal and sane and not severely sleep deprived’ department.

You splashed some water in your face to try and wake up a bit, but the slight drowsiness that followed you everywhere seemed to be a permanent part of you now.

(It was almost funny, in a way. You were so paranoid and alert all the time, unable to fall asleep, and yet it was all you could think about in moments like these. You wondered when irony had become such a staple in your life.)

You had tried talking to therapists, your friends, your family, even searching the internet for advice on what to do after a life changing traumatic event. Nothing had worked.

The simplest solution had come to mind more than once, but you had pushed it aside with the determination to work through this on your own. But now, staring at yourself and seeing how much you had deteriorated…

You had to go talk to the only person who would understand.

~

You had considered turning around more than once on the drive over.

Because, really, what the hell were you doing? Showing up at his doorstep in the middle of o dark thirty because— because what?

Because you had a nightmare?

He had gone through the same thing you had, probably even worse. Losing Jessica right in front of him, having to cut off his fingers to get free, spending countless hours alone, dealing with the nightmare that was the sanatorium, and then…

Well, you had been in the mines with him and Josh when it happened. There was no doubt in your mind that the scene replayed in his head endlessly, just like it did for you.

Showing up… it was going to be a mistake. You knew it was.

For all you knew, Mike had moved on already. He was stronger than you, he always had been. Maybe your presence would send him spiraling once more, or maybe it would just earn you a verbal beating like no other. Mike had always been nice enough, but the trauma you had endured was enough to turn a saint into his own worst enemy.

You didn’t know what would happen. You didn’t know anything, and as you turned down his street you regretted more than ever not keeping in touch with him. Maybe then you wouldn’t be in this situation, scrambling after your last hope for salvation after slowly killing yourself over the past few months.

But there was no chance to turn back now, because before you knew it your knuckles were rapping against his front door.

The pause between your arrival and a response was so long that you considered leaving and pretending like this never happened, but just as you began to step back the door swung open.

You didn’t really know what you were expecting, but… he was there. The only other testament to the horrors of Blackwood Pines, and maybe the only person that could help you through this.

“...hi,” you murmured, swallowing the sudden lump in your throat as you looked the personification of your shame in the eye.

Mike blinked a few times, whether to try and wake up a little or out of surprise from his visitor you didn’t know, but it was a few seconds before he responded in kind. “...hey. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you around.”

You chuckled dryly as you nodded. “Yeah. Sorry for the sudden arrival. I’m, uh… I’m kind of surprised you even opened the door.”

He huffed out a short breath in a facsimile of a laugh. “Not getting much sleep these days.”

“That’s something we’ve got in common.” You crossed your arms across your chest and let out a loose sigh, eyes wandering around in an attempt to think of what to say next. It should’ve been so easy, but… but for some reason, it just wasn’t.

“Guess so.” That awkward silence stretched out once more, neither of you knowing how to fill it. Thankfully, Mike continued to take the plunge, but it wasn’t without a slight barb. “What are you doing here?”

“I—” you stopped just as you had begun, because you really didn’t know. You had come here for help, but could Mike really do that for you? He was the same as you — a fucked up teenager trying to deal with something so far beyond him.

“I don’t know,” you admitted as you made eye contact once more. “I… I really don’t know. I’m out of options, and… I can’t keep going like this. So I came here to talk, or— or to try and get some help. I don’t know.”

That same silence filled the air once more, the night ambiance the only thing in between the two of you. You missed when that silence used to be comfortable, but… you could only blame yourself for it.

“So— so, what?” he asked, the beginnings of a frown starting to crease his brows. “You just— we go through all that together up there, and then when we get back down you don’t say a word for months. And now— now, out of nowhere, in the middle of the night, you just show up and ask for help?”

“God,” you muttered. When he put it that way, it was true. It was ridiculous, to expect his help after the way you had just left him to deal with it all on his own for a reason borne of your own insecurity. “You’re right. This was— this was stupid. I’m sorry.”

You had already turned to go when you felt a calloused hand on your shoulder, causing you to stop in your tracks.

“No.” His voice was surprisingly soft as he sighed, stepping back with a shake of his head to make room in the doorway. “No, I—” Mike paused for a moment, as if he couldn’t find the right words to say. “I’m sorry. You can come in. Obviously, you can come in.”

Your eyes widened slightly as you tried to hide your shock at the gesture, but you weren’t about to turn it down. You nodded, and he stepped aside to make space for you to walk in. When you did, you were met with a mess not unlike the one back at your apartment, save for the beer bottles. Clothes were strewn about haphazardly on every surface, so you took a seat on a clean spot on the floor, leaning back against a chair and pulling your knees up to your chest. You actually preferred it this way — it was grounding, in a literal sense. Mike pushed aside a laundry basket and did the same, but pulled one leg up and let the other lay extended.

“Why?” he asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had been accumulating once more. “Why did you just…” he gestured around with his hands to try and get his point across but ultimately settled with a sigh. “You didn’t say anything. You didn’t try to text, or call, or write, or— or anything. Hell, I would’ve probably jumped to get a messenger pigeon from you. But it was just… radio silence.”

You picked at the dry skin on your thumbs as you tried to come up with an answer. “I… I don’t know,” you repeated. “It was stupid, and it was horrible of me to leave you alone. I mean… I don’t know why I did it. I know what I’ve been going through, and I know you’ve been going through the same. So I don’t know why I didn’t try to reach out and see how you were doing.”

He chuckled mirthlessly as his eyes swept over the empty bottles that had accumulated on the coffee table. “I’m not the best with alone.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “I thought…” you shook your head as you looked at the ceiling. “I thought that you hated me. I know that you cared about them all more, you were closer to all of them, and… and I thought you wouldn’t want anything to do with me. That I would just always be a reminder of what you lost. And… and, I don’t know. Maybe it was my way of trying to move on. Was a stupid fucking idea, though.”

That got a genuine laugh out of him as he ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I get that. I dunno why I didn’t try to talk to you either. Maybe since you didn’t say anything, I didn’t want to either. This whole thing fucked me up.” His gaze moved to you. “Fucked us both up.”

“You can say that again,” you muttered as you tapped your fingers on your knees. “I can’t look anywhere without seeing them. I mean, I see that fucking…” you grimaced. “I see Josh, and I see what that thing did to him, and I just— I’m right back to step one.”

He swallowed hard and nodded. “...yeah. That was seven layers of fucked up.”

“You can’t just keep saying everything was fucked up,” you said dryly. “It was shitty, too.”

Mike snorted, some kind of slightly masochistic humor going on between the two of you. “Nothing really gets the point across like fucked up.”

“Guess you’re right,” you finally conceded with a small smile. “This is… this is nice. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to… I don’t know, to talk to someone like this.”

“It is,” he murmured.

Another pregnant pause hung in the air, but the silence wasn’t as uncomfortable now. Trickles of what it used to be like, of your old life, were beginning to poke through.

“I never hated you,” he said suddenly. Your eyes flicked up to meet his, and it was like his brown eyes were piercing through you as he continued. “I never did. After it happened… yeah, I was mad. I was fucking pissed, but it was never at you. You were my friend too, y’know? Even though we weren’t that close, we were still… we were still something. And I’m glad you made it. I just wish you hadn’t convinced yourself that you had to go through this alone. Maybe things would’ve turned out different, these past few months. For both of us.”

You nodded, choosing to avert eye contact first because you almost couldn’t handle the sincerity. Your heart sank a bit at the sight of all the beer bottles, and you knew that he was right. Maybe things would’ve been different if the two of you had weathered it together from the start. And so you said that.

“I still can’t help but feel like I’m to blame for—” you gestured around at the mess with a sigh, “for this.”

“Look.” His voice was raspy as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, and as he met your eyes once more you were able to see how truly exhausted he was. With dark circles that matched your own, scars that were still healing, and a certain hollowness behind his eyes… It was like looking in a mirror. And it made you realize how fucked up the two of you had really become.

Mike had always been good at holding himself together, putting up his signature egotistical-douchebag-jock act in the face of anything that threatened to tear him down, and more often than not he came out victorious. But not even class presidents were immune to the horrors that they had faced, and it was taking more of a toll on him than you had realized.

“It’s not your fault. You— you did everything you could; I know I’m still alive because of you. Besides, we were idiot teenagers — we still are — and none of them deserved to die because of it. Not Hannah, not Beth, not any of them.” Mike shook his head and sighed. “Not even Josh. Man was fucked up even before all of this, but he didn’t deserve what happened to him. He needed help, but instead he got his fucking… god. I can’t even say it. But he didn’t deserve it.”

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, the subconscious process having stopped because of the weight of his words. It was cliche, but you didn’t know how much you needed to hear those four words: it’s not your fault.

“Maybe you should be my therapist,” you joked weakly. But as you let your eyes trail back to Mike you bit your lip. He hadn’t included himself in that statement, and it wasn’t too hard to figure out why.

“Mike… it wasn’t your fault either. You’re not just saying bullshit to try and make yourself feel better, it really wasn’t your fault. What do they say? ‘Getting through your guilt is the first step to recovery’ or some shit? You deserve to be here just as much as I do.”

“But it was,” he insisted. “It’s easy for you to say that. You tried to stop it, I… I just went along with it. Fuck, I started it all. Hannah and Beth went missing because of me, Josh went out of his fuckin’ mind, and if he hadn’t brought us all back up there for his revenge plot then they wouldn’t have died. How is it not my fault? Why do I get to live when all of them died because of me?”

“Mike,” you sighed. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know why we made it back when none of them did, but it’s not your fucking fault, okay? You— yeah, that prank was fucking stupid, but— but how could you know what was going to happen?” You huffed a laugh that was only slightly unhinged. “People pull pranks all the time. Native American legend cannibal spirit things don’t try to kill people all the time. You can’t keep blaming yourself. It’s not going to help them, and it’s not going to help you.”

That silence stretched out once more as he took in your words. You didn’t know if he believed them or not, but you did. That had to be worth something, right?

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he muttered, breaking the silence once more. “And I… I don’t know. I don’t know why it took almost fucking dying from those goddamn things, a— and seeing what happened to all of them...”

“I don’t know,” he repeated, leaning back against the foot of the sofa. “All the shit that happened, all of them dying — I don’t know how long it’ll take until we’re okay again. Hell, I don’t even know if we ever will be okay again. What happened up there was fucked up in the worst way, and the fact that no one believes us makes it a hell of a lot worse.”

You chuckled darkly as you cupped one hand in the other. “You can say that again.”

His lips twitched for a moment as if he wanted to smile but ultimately thought better of it. “I know we aren’t that close anymore, but the truth is we’re the only ones on this fuckin’ planet that know what really happened up there. We’re the only ones that will ever really understand what happened to us, and… and I think we’re the only ones that can really help each other through this shit.”

He met your eyes once more, something resolute in them. “So the next time this happens, because it will, if you don’t want to be alone… you can come here. Any time, any day, no questions asked. Just knock on that door, and I will be there. No more isolation, no more trying to get through this on our own. We gotta be there for each other, because we’re all we have.”

You nodded gratefully, a feeling of warmth slowly creeping through your body with his reassurance. “Thank you, Mike. You… you have no idea what this means to me.”

“I think I have some clue,” he murmured.

As you exchanged weary smiles, you saw a faint twinkle in Mike’s eyes. He was always the kind of person to help others, even if it was for the wrong reasons, and that was one thing that stuck with him after the disaster. And in that moment, a long lost feeling washed over you — safety.

You hadn’t felt safe in… well, it seemed like forever. Adrenaline and pure instinct were responsible for getting you through those twelve hours, along with an overwhelming wave of numbness and denial. But once all of that wore off, the nightmares had begun. Your friends, the Wendigos, the mountain itself — anything and everything that your mind could use against you, it did.

It was a living hell. You could hardly ever sleep anymore, horrific images always jolting you awake after an hour or two and keeping you awake for the rest of the day. It was no wonder Mike had ended up with a drinking problem — it was probably the only way he could sleep, the only way he could bring some form of peace to his mind. By some miracle, you had avoided that fate, but… you would be lying if you said you hadn’t come close.

But somehow, for some reason, you could tell that things were going to be different. Now that you and Mike weren’t avoiding each other anymore in the name of painful memories… you felt like things were going to be okay. Or as close to okay as you could get these days.

You weren’t alone, and neither was he.

He had saved your life on the mountain more than once. Now, he was saving you again. Just in a different way.

-

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

ud tags: @kwyloz

[yourplayersaidwhat]

Dex Paladins and Poor Life Decisions

For Context: This is my first full game as a DM and currently my dex based Paladin, who serves Bhaal, had gotten ahead of the party by a whole day in travel because his character had no interest in helping the others with a side quest. This is the result of me trying to give the rest of the party a chance to catch up.

DM (Me): Ok so you’re settling down for the night, roll perception:

Paladin: 20 on the die, plus 4, 24

DM:*trying not to lose it over the fact he got a nat 20* Ok so you see some people observing you at a distance in the tree line. They appear to be bandits.

*A bit later*

DM: The bandits are tired of waiting for you to go to sleep and decide to charge out and try to grab you.

Paladin: So roll initative, since they didn’t get the jump on me?

DM: *sighs* Yes.

Paladin: So there are 8 guys and their leader?

DM: Yep.

*Combat goes on for a while as the dex based paladin is winning a 9v1*

DM: *exasperated* This was supposed to be you getting kidnapped, so the party could catch up and save you.

Paladin: These bandits made a very poor decision.

*Battle continues as the other players try to give advice as to overwhelm the Paladin*

Paladin: So that’s 5 bandits and their leader left, I’m gonna attach the leader. *Crits, and then, of course, drops a smite on that crit* And then for my next attack-

DM: He’s dead and now the remaining bandits are going to try and run away.

Paladin: Oh, well then, as I Cyclops the former leader I’ll yell at the others to stop.

DM: Roll intimidation?

Paladin: *gets a 25*

DM: *currently questioning their own life choices* Well they are all successfully intimidated as they all come to a halt and look at you, completely petrified by terror.

Paladin(in character): So you all have made poor life decisions, but that was then this is now. First of all, you are now Phil *points at one of the bandits that had missed a lot of attacks during the fight*, doesn’t matter what your old name was, and you are going to clean my horse’s saddle. The rest of you do not get to have a name, and are as of right now nothing. What are you?

DM (As the bandits): Nothing, sir.

Paladin: Good, and I like that sir bit, good choice of words. But as of now you are nothing, because of your former leader’s planning. Was your former leader religious?

Bandits: No sir.

Paladin: Oh well then he didn’t even get a chance at ending up in hell. He’s just gone, because he messed with me. Do any one of you know about Bhaal?

Bandits: No sir.

Paladin: Bhaal is the god of murder, an annoying bastard who pestered me until I agreed to help him with a world threatening demon issue. Now you all made 3 major mistakes, messing with me, messing with this mission I am on, and messing with a guy who knows Bhaal. But I have some level of pity for you idiots, so as of now you are all nothing and will have to earn your names. Do we have an understanding?

Bandits: Yes sir.

Paladin: Good, now I am going to sleep and I want a clean saddle in the morning.

…

Paladin: I don’t hear a saddle being cleaned.

The Bandit Phil: Sorry sir!

*The next day when the rest of the party catch up*

Warlock: What happened here? Where is (Paladin’s name) and are those guys dead?

Paladin: *walks over to the party* Some of them are, and the rest hope they do not join them.

Cleric: What happened to you when you went ahead of us?

Paladin: Encountered people that were making poor life decisions.

[yhwhsdaughter]

pairing: trevor belmont x fem reader

content: forced vampirism, monster slaying, main character death, pining, angst, mention of animal death, usage of the word ‘assault’ to refer vampires feeding on reader

- this was meant as platonic soulmates but it can be seen as romantic too

“It hurts…”

Feet dragging across the rocky ground, you heard screeches of pain from behind, though they soon diminished. You could only focus on the pulsing sensation at the side of your neck; it was like fire rushing through your veins.

Preoccupied with your agony, Belmont was able to sneak up. He raised his whip, ready to kill off the last of the creatures when you suddenly turned, and with glossy eyes you said, “Help me…”

The whip managed to leave a thin horizontal line across your cheek as he pulled back, causing blood to drip out slowly. Now illuminated by the moon, Belmont saw the damage on you. Skin exposed by the ripped clothes showed multiple bite marks. Blood stained the corner of your lips.

She’s been infected..

Belmont didn’t see a monster but a scared woman who’d just been assaulted by vampires. He knew what she’d turn into, but he couldn’t kill her… not when she looked at him like this. Sunrise was approaching so he had to act fast.

Draping his cloak onto your form, Belmont proceeded to carry you into the nearest building, which so happened to be where the carnage had occurred. Upon recognizing the place, you began to panic, shaking and looking at him with distrust. “You’re safe. I killed every last of those bloodsuckers.”

The two of you stayed like that for a while, in that shitty stinking room. Eventually tiredness overcame your senses; Belmont felt weight settle on his shoulder. He wonder how a vampire could look so innocent whilst sleeping.

“Hungry…”

You felt parched; it felt like your throat had dried up, barely able to utter a word.

“I know.”

A rabbit was placed in front of you. Blinking at it, you directed a confused glance at the man. “I’m—this is.. for me?” He nodded. Taking the animal with traces of disgust, you raised it to your mouth. Blood gushed into your mouth; feeding made a horrible slurping that would certainly haunt you but there was relief amongst those troubling feelings.

You gulped every last drop, draining the poor creature of its life. Still, your hunger and thirst weren’t satiated. Biting your lip, you pondered on the next move. Because this man had saved you, daring to kill him or even feed off him seemed… rude. Not to mention, he seemed way stronger than you in terms of experience. Prior to this, you were a regular citizen. Maybe you could run away?

“Here.”

Trevor could see your turmoil. Most vampires needed to drain at least one human every time they fed—if they were being generous. They could survive weeks without blood but it made them weaker. Besides, it was older vampires who had this kind of self control. Newborns tended to be more unstable.

“Just take it before I change my mind.”

You did as told, though you were still unsure. Hesitating, you licked your lips before nearing towards the vein on his wrist.

Trevor let out a grunt when your fangs pierced him. Although you tried to be gentle, it was an uncomfortable feeling nonetheless. As he became lightheaded and you full, the mouth that was attached to his wrist removed itself with a ‘pop’.

After making sure he was alright, you asked for his name. “Trevor. Trevor Belmont.”

“Oh..”

“……”

“Oh! I’m (Name) (Surname).”

─── ☾☼☽ ───

“It’s dangerous.”

“I still-still want to go!”

The last remnants of sun were gone. Ever since your first encounter with the rugged monster hunter, you refused to part from him, following the latter like a lost puppy.

“I’m not much of a fighter.. b-but watch this!”

On cue, you punched the nearest tree, cracking it and making a sizable hole. You looked back proudly towards Trevor; except when you tried to pull your hand out, you were having difficulty.

“Ah. It’s stuck.”

Trevor couldn’t help but chuckle, walking away, clearly amused with your display of power. You pulled harder, “Hold on! Don’t leave me alone! It’s scary..” you muttered the last part while chasing after him. Despite being a creature of the night, the world and its evils still frightened you.

At the sound of a branch snapping, you yelped, grabbing a piece of Trevor’s cloak for security.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Belmont when you punched a head clean off, practically decapitating one of the attackers. He might have been seriously injured if you had not intervened.

“Trevor.”

Gazing at you under the moonlight, he saw the hunger in your eyes as you held a man whom was still alive but struggling. His neck was exposed. Even so, you waited.

The Belmont turned away, giving you privacy to feed.

He knew that by allowing you to live, you would continue to take blood from others. Normally he wouldn’t feel soft towards a monster but whenever he thought of you, it was different.

His guilt was lessened when you drank from scum. Before putting the lives of innocents in danger, he would offer his own.

“Are you done?”

The corpse of the man was dropped unceremoniously as you joined Trevor, a light skip to your step.

─── ☾☼☽ ───

Despite adopting a nighttime lifestyle, Trevor was still human and had to conduct business during daylight hours.

He’d left your lodgings, which was an abandoned cottage, for a while. Nobody really passed through there anyway, so he thought you were safe. Worst came to worse, you could handle yourself. But as your self proclaimed protector, Trevor felt uneasy leaving you alone.

Maybe he should’ve listened to his gut because when he arrived, the door was wide open with dirty footprints leading in all the way to your coffin.

Two men had opened it—staring at the peaceful expression on your face, unaware that they were here to end you. To them it was obvious what you were. Even with that frilly white dress that made you look somewhat angelic, they couldn’t be fooled. As they raised their weapons to strike, Trevor used his whip. His sudden entrance startled them but it gave you the chance to wake up.

Eyes snapping open, you jumped onto the other man, taking both of you to the ground. His screams echoed shortly as you tore into his throat. The remaining one had no chance; Trevor left the room, closing the door on his way out, killing the light that entered and cutting off the way to escape.

Left alone with your prey, a smile crept up your face.

When you opened the door again, the dress which decorated your body was now stained red. There was hardly a clean piece on the material. Even so, you greeted Trevor with a hug.

“Trevor..”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“M-me too..”

─── ☾☼☽ ───

Forty years passed in the blink of an eye.

“You should retire.”

“Belmonts don’t retire. The only rest they get is when they’re dead.”

“Well I don’t want you to die.”

“I have to, someday.”

“No you don’t.”

It’s been like this for the past few years; Trevor was sixty now. His body didn’t look that of an aging man, but the expression on his face did. He’d seen too much and as time passed, it was harder to fight monsters by himself.

Of course you’d noticed that and suggested turning him. It was an ongoing discussion; Trevor didn’t fancy the idea of living an eternal life but the thought of leaving this earth without you was disheartening. He didn’t say it but the situation tore him apart.

There was also the fact that he was too old for you; forty years to be exact. You’d maintained your youth, looking lovely as ever. His doubts were shot down when you immediately said that you didn’t care about that.

“I just want you.”

He always kept pushing the conversation away and you were patient. Trevor supposed that you could’ve taken him by force if you wanted and when he inquired, you told him it would be like violating him, robbing him of the choice you were never given.

As understanding as you were; the time would come for him to decide and confront you about it.

That time was now.

He should have been more careful, but there was nothing to be done about it now. Trevor watched as the sun slowly descended. Would you make it here before he passed? Would he die without seeing you one last time?

When you woke night had already fallen. Trevor wasn’t home; he’d been late plenty of times before but this occasion felt different.

Upon stepping outside, the smell of blood hit you. It reeked, staining the very air. You immediately recognized the source—how could you not? You’d fed from Trevor countless times.

Rushing in that direction, you prayed to whatever entity was listening to keep Trevor safe. The world and its gods could condemn you, but not him.

Not him.

You found him sprawled on a big rock, a creature hovering over his crumpled figure. Without thinking, you tore it to pieces. Blood rained as his mangled body flew to various parts of the forest.

“Trevor!!!”

He let out a groan, which would’ve made you sigh in relief but his visible injuries proved otherwise. You were no doctor and even if you could carry him into town, it would be too late. There was no other option. If you didn’t do anything, you might lose him.

“Trevor. Let me do it.”

Still conscious enough to reply, “I don’t want to become—”

“A monster?”

“I cannot become what I sought to destroy..”

Tears escaped your eyes, blurring the image of the person whom you treasure most. “Please.. please please please..! Don’t leave me alone!”

You begged, knowing it was unfair to pressure him in such way but you couldn’t bare the thought of existing if he wasn’t present. He was your salvation, your companion…your world. And yet, he was being robbed from you.

So soon… It’s too soon!

You always imagined Trevor living well into old age, spending the remainder of his life with you, being happy. He was destined to die peacefully, not like this. Not in this shitty place, by the hands of a shitty monster!

“I can’t. I’m sorry..”

Grabbing his hands, you lowered your forehead on them, crying your heart out. It was unfair. Life was unfair.

“Kiss me.”

Despite the pain that he was in, Trevor found it in himself to smile. For you. “Kiss me one last time.” Tears dropped slowly as you heard him. Shaking your head; you couldn’t kill him.

“I want it to be you..”

His words struck a chord.

Lifting him by the neck in a gentle manner, you pushed the collar of his shirt aside, exposing his carotid. As you bit into his familiar skin once more, your other hand caressed him, trying to make this goodbye as painless as possible.

With every sip you took, tears fell down.

I love you! I love you! I love you!

His warm hand turned cold.

You held him in your arms like he once did to you, with the outmost care, with the love he deserved.

Since Trevor didn’t say where he wanted his body to be buried, you chose the nicest spot. It was a secluded place where it wouldn’t be dug up by animals or people—but not so hidden either.

Whilst cleaning the blood that covered his body and face, you found a piece of cloth with writing on it. Staring at it, you recognized the Belmont insignia. Turning the material, you managed to read the words…

Take this. Go to Alucard.

Trevor must’ve written that in his final moments; probably in case he didn’t make it before you arrived. The letters were sloppy because of the blood but you could read it well.

Clutching it to your chest, you sobbed until the light of day began to burn. For a moment you wished to stay there and disappear. Perhaps you could join Trevor.

Together even in death..

─── ☾☼☽ ───

The journey was rather long.

Looming in all its glory, Castle Dracula. You looked at the last piece of your beloved, holding it tighter in your hand.

“Okay. Let’s meet this Alucard.”

[oumakokichi]

Do you think that Kokichi had any remorse for Gonta during trial 4 or did he actually not care? I've seen a lot of people saying different opinions from both sides of the argument. But I'm really confused because there was a moment where after Gonta was executed, correct me if I'm wrong but Shuichi asked Kokichi if he could reveal the secret of the outside world (?) But Kokichi replied with something like “I don't want to....” and seemed generally upset? But then a few moments later he snapped out if it and began acting like he had no sympathy whatsoever. I just really wanna know how Kokichi actually, truly felt about Gonta and if he regretted manipulating him. Sorry if you've already been asked this and have already given an answer, thank you!

Hi anon—I actually wrote a pretty big master-post on chapter 4 not too long ago which I think more or less sums up my thoughts on Ouma’s behavior in the post-trial! You can find it here if you want (it’s pretty long and I tried to answer a whole bunch of questions about Ouma in chapter 4 specifically, since it’s the chapter I get asked about the most).

More specifically though, I’m afraid that there is no easy, definitive answer to that question. I can only share my personal opinions about how I believe Ouma felt in that scene. And personally? I do think he was genuinely upset and distraught about Gonta’s death, that he even momentarily considered giving up all his plans and being executed alongside him, and that he cared about Gonta and deeply regretted using him as a sacrificial pawn in his plans.

I’ll discuss what I mean in more detail, but it’ll probably get pretty long, so I’ll put the rest of this post under a cut as always!

The thing is, though, I’ve shared my personal thoughts about the chapter 4 post trial many times, including my reasoning and all of the textual evidence that shows how much Ouma cared about the rest of his classmates. But ultimately, there will probably always be some people who disagree, because their reading of the text will always be a little bit different. Unless we ever have an interview from Kodaka in the future where he directly says, “this is what Ouma was thinking and feeling at this exact moment,” there really won’t ever be a way to know what was going through his head with 100% certainty (and I do feel like leaving it open-ended is something of Kodaka’s intention, anyway, especially since Ouma is supposed to be a very polarizing character).

That being said, I do think it’s worth analyzing the text and drawing your own conclusions, because ndrv3 is a game that changes a lot depending on how you interpret it, and Ouma’s character is included in that. It’s really easy on a first playthrough to get wrapped up in what Ouma says or does without really looking at why he says it, or at his underlying motivations. Going back through the game on a replay though, I do personally think it’s possible to guess at what he might have been feeling during those super conflicting scenes in chapter 4.

In my opinion, I think Ouma did truly care about Gonta as a friend, and that his guilt and remorse over what he did was genuine. Not only did Ouma and DICE have a very strict taboo against killing (mentioned directly in his motive video in Japanese, though the part about it being an actual rule was stripped from the localization), but we don’t see Ouma’s façade crack like this very often. Most of the time when he does his trademark “crocodile tears,” it’s with his very loud, exaggerated crying sprite, and he bounces right back to acting normally within a moment or two.

There are a few exceptions to this, of course—he uses the “crocodile tears” sprite to cry at Kaede, Amami, and Toujou’s deaths, but it’s still very likely he was shaken up by seeing them dead). Nonetheless, we don’t see his much more subdued crying sprites more than a handful of times, particularly in the chapter 4 post-trial just before Gonta’s execution, as well as in Momota’s flashback in chapter 5 when he talks about how Ouma actually hated the killing game the whole time.

I’m aware that some people simply brush these moments aside and assume that Ouma is lying though all of them, but I personally just can’t agree with that interpretation. Assuming that Ouma is lying whenever he shows remorse or guilt or hatred for the killing game means assuming that he’s telling the truth in pretty much every other scene—which doesn’t make much sense, given that his entire character is centered around the concept of lying, as well as moral ambiguity and subverting expectations. Assuming that Ouma actually means what he’s saying 100% of the time unless it just happens to involve showing any kind of guilt or remorse turns him into a very boring, predictable, uninspired character (none of which are words I would use to describe him personally).

Ignoring those moments where Ouma shows genuine attachment to his classmates and distaste for the killing game also means ignoring several key pieces of evidence and clues about him that we are directly provided in the game, including his motive video and Momota’s flashback in chapter 5. Personally, I don’t feel like there’s any reason to include these scenes at all unless it’s to help shed light on Ouma’s motivations and provide players with a clear reason to try and go back through the game again to look at Ouma’s actions through a new perspective.

I also feel that Ouma genuinely cared about Gonta because to put it simply, there was no incentive for him to lie in that scene. He got absolutely nothing out of it—and considering he turns around and starts playing the villain on purpose all of 5 minutes after Gonta’s death, he definitely wasn’t trying to earn sympathy points or trick the rest of his classmates into trusting him. In fact, he could’ve easily tried to make himself look more sympathetic by putting all of the blame on Miu for trying to kill him, or even on Gonta. But instead he fully admits to coming up with the plan to kill Miu and spends the entire post-trial trying to convince everyone not to hate or blame Gonta.

If he was truly as sadistic and horrible as he pretended to be, I think he would’ve pulled a 180 and started throwing names and insults around while Gonta was still alive to hear it, not after he was already dead. If he didn’t care at all about Gonta’s feelings, he had no reason to try and take all the blame on himself while insisting that none of what happened was actually Gonta’s fault. If anything, revealing himself to be this horrible, evil villain who enjoys seeing other people suffer or die would’ve really been adding insult to injury, and probably would’ve crushed Gonta completely, even before his execution started.

But… Ouma doesn’t do any of this. Despite having every opportunity to either portray himself as more of a victim and fling all the blame on Miu and Gonta, or else to completely embrace being a villain who loved seeing people suffer, he doesn’t do either of these things. The way I personally see it, Ouma waits until Gonta is already dead, and when the rest of his classmates begin pushing him for answers about the outside world and demanding to know what Gonta saw, that’s when he finally snaps and resigns himself to acting like a villain in order to make everyone hated.

You could argue that trying to make everyone hate him had a twofold effect: it helped set the stage for him to pretend to be the ringleader in the next chapter, which he clearly wanted, but it also was a way of taking things out on himself and shows just a small glimpse of how much he hated having to dirty his hands in chapter 4. After all, Ouma even says it himself: that the “role of a villain is perfect for him,” because he’s already made everyone hate him. We see Ouma occasionally tease or antagonize the rest of his classmates plenty of times throughout the game, but it’s true that he doesn’t really step into that “villain” role until the end of chapter 4, once he’s crossed a line that he can never come back from by manipulating both Miu and Gonta to their deaths.

None of this is to say that what Ouma did to Gonta is okay, by any means. I think he definitely did care about Gonta and even thought of him as one of the few trustworthy people in the killing game, even someone close to a friend, but that doesn’t mean that manipulating him and using him like a chess piece was okay in the end. I just also think it’s important to realize that there were plenty of extenuating circumstances that led Ouma to act the way he did—including the fact tha he knew Miu was going to kill him, that he already suspected she had measures to prevent him from fighting back or killing her himself in the VR world, and the fact that he did not want to die or get everyone else killed in the trial.

It’s possible for people to care about others without necessarily treating them the best or doing the right thing. A huge part of Danganronpa, something that’s been evident from the very first game, is that sometimes characters can and do hurt each other, even when they care about each other or wouldn’t be a threat otherwise.

It’s the existence of the killing game itself that causes so many characters to go to extremes that they normally wouldn’t, whether it’s Maizono trying to frame Naegi in dr1 despite caring about him a lot, Kaede deciding to try and commit murder under everyone’s noses despite trying to unite the group and wanting everyone to trust her, or Ouma using Gonta as a pawn to kill Miu in his place because he didn’t want to die.

At the end of the day, people are still probably going to have very polarizing opinions about Ouma and the things he did in chapter 4, and that’s honestly okay. In my own opinion, Ouma definitely isn’t a completely flawless, innocent baby who “did nothing wrong”—he absolutely is manipulative, cold, and calculating when he wants to be, and it’s a fact that he got two people killed, even if he didn’t want things to reach that point. But I also personally don’t think it’s fair to write him off as the exact kind of “evil villain” he pretends to be; not only is it a shortsighted interpretation of his larger motivations, but it also completely ignores any replay value and completely shoots down the appeal of trying to interpret Ouma’s thoughts and actions because “he was lying about feeling bad anyway, what’s the point in analyzing him.”

Tl;dr: I do think Ouma cares about Gonta, that he probably even thought of him as the closest thing he had to a friend in the killing game, and that what he did to Gonta in the end wasn’t okay. I think he really did respect Gonta for being such a sweet and kind person, but that he also knew Gonta was extremely naïve and that he would be one of the easiest people in their group to manipulate, hence why he decided to rely on him instead of anyone else. Their friendship is an important part of both of their character arcs, but it’s definitely not what I would call “on equal footing.”

I understand why Ouma’s actions might make some people really resent him, but I also believe that kneejerk reaction of anger and dismissal is exactly the point: Ouma does feel terrible about the things he did, but he doesn’t want anyone’s sympathy or forgiveness, not even the player’s. This, in my opinion, is why he starts embracing the villain role so completely from this point on, and why he’s never quite able to make the same sort of cold, calculating sacrifices in chapter 5 that he did in chapter 4.

I hope this helps answer your question, anon, along with the other chapter 4 post I wrote! Thank you for all your support!

[imma-fucking-nerd]

Promise Me

(Connor x Suicidal!Reader)

⚠️TW: Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Drug/Alcohol Use, Mentions of Self Harm, Suicide Attempt⚠️

A/N: So as you can tell from the tw this one is going to be very dark and may be triggering for some readers. If you're going through a rough time and don't think you can handle reading depictions of these kinds of things PLEASE skip this one. I only feel comfortable writing about it because I've been living with depression and suicidal thoughts for a very long time, and writing comfort fics with my favourite fictional characters helps. Sorry for the long A/N I just want to make things clear and give a good warning.

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Your alarm clock blaring by you ears woke you up from your only escape from your reality, signalling it was 6am. Groaning, you lazily slapped the alarm off but made no attempt to get up. You knew you had work today but you just couldn't get yourself to stop staring up at the ceiling and into nothingness. What if you just didn't go in? Would anyone even notice? Would anyone even care?

No. No one cares. You're worthless.

And there it was. The voice in your head that sounded like your own yet betrayed you at every opportunity. Yet even so you couldn't help but believe it. After all, it was your thought wasn't it?

That's how it had always been.

Horrible words blending into your thoughts so seamlessly you managed to convince yourself they were normal. But no normal mind tried to tear itself down every time it was silent. That was the demon known as depression.

You've lived with this demon for as long as you've know. It was your normal. But recently it had been more and more frequent with it's hurtful words that spread through your mind like a deadly virus. The past couple of weeks had been especially difficult.

You tried everything you could to shift your mind to something else, anything else. You smoked pot, cigarettes, drank, you even slipped back into an especially dangerous copping mechanism. But none of those seemed to be enough. Every time they would come back. Your voice would spew venom at yourself in your own mind.

The only times you've managed to have any moment of peace was when you were asleep, or when you were with your only two friends. Hank, and Connor. You loved Hank, but it was Connors presence that really made you feel good. A feeling you longed to feel again every time he left. Was it just a silly crush? Or were you madly in love with him? Did it matter?

He would never love you back anyway.

Of all the thoughts that one might have hurt the most, because you knew it was actually true. He couldn't love you. He was, as he put it, 'a machine, designed to accomplish a task.' Therefore, it was a hopeless battle to think anything could come of it. Yet you still had hope. Maybe because you needed to have it to survive. Because if you didn't have that little hope, you might as well been dead.

It wasn't like you didn't have your reasons to hope, or maybe you really were that desperate. Connor was always so sweet to you, but then again e was sweet to everyone. Except Gavin. He would always get you a cup of hot chocolate in the mornings because you don't like coffee. Connor definitely didn't do that for anyone else. He does get Hank coffee in the mornings too. Then there was the fact you were one of the two people he talked to the most, aside from his detective work. Maybe he just pities you because he knows how fragile you are.

So, as you laid there staring up at the cieling, you decided to test that hope once and for all. See if there was anything to be hopeful about at all, or if he really was a machine who wouldn't love you the same way you loved him. You decided you weren't going to go to work that day, and you weren't going to call in either. If anyone were worried about you, if anyone even cared about you at all, they would check up on you, right?

Not if they don't even notice in the first place.

Hour after hour went by. No calls. At first you figured that it was still early and they probably just thought you were late. But you were never late, why would they think that? Aren't they worried? Not if they never cared to begin with.

At around 9am you couldn't take the overthinking anymore and just went back to sleep. You couldn't think if you weren't conscious. A little secret you learned in the game that is living. Sleeping was the best way to just escape. Especially if you were dreaming. That was the best part. Mostly because your dreams were the only place you could feel Connors arms around you, and his lips on yours.

When you woke up again it was 5 o'clock in the evening. However you didn't accomplish an impressive 8 hours of sleep uninterrupted. No, during that time you woke up just for a minute or two before going back to sleep at least a dozen times. That's usually how you slept most days. It almost felt weird when you sleep a long duration uninterrupted.

Glancing over at your phone, your heart dropped when you saw 0 notifications. Well, not including ones you got from youtube. You turned your phone off and tossed it onto a pile of clothes in the corner of your room.

Maybe they were just having a busy day and didn't notice you weren't there.

There was no way Connor wouldn't notice. He notices everything.

What you didn't know was that Connor was in fact not aware you weren't at the prescinct, but that was because he wasn't at the prescinct either. Connor and Hank had been called in to do a high stakes stakeout to bust a person who had been stealing and selling Cyberlife memorabilia illegally. They had to leave at around 4 am, way before you had to be at work. The entire time Connor was disappointed he'd have to break his streak of greeting one of his favourite people every day.

Truth was, Connor had grown quite attached to you. Despite the fact that he wasn't technically supposed to have any favorites. You were just so different from anyone else he had met. You were the first, and maybe only, human that actually referred to him as a friend. Or even treated him with a shred of decency in general. It made him feel....nice. You made him feel.

So, when the duo arrived at the office finally at around 4pm he noticed the lack of your presence immediately. He asked around the prescinct if anyone had seen you today and all of them, well the ones that actually talked to him, said they hadn't. He even went so far as to ask Fowler if you had called in only to be met with the same answer. Now he knew that was odd, that something was wrong.

He tried to call you when he was finished Hanks reports for him so the poor man could take a nap but you didn't answer your phone. Now he felt worried. A fact that only worried him more. However before he had the chance to go to your place to see if you were alright, he and Hank were needed to defuse a hostage situation at 6 pm. Of course, he immediately made his new mission his top priority, but every so often you would slip back into his mind.

It was currently 9 and you had managed to drag yourself from your bed to take care of your business in the bathroom a couple times since you had woken up. Everytime avoiding looking at your pathetic self in the mirror. But you would always go crawling back to the comfort of your bed. You didn't even leave your room yet. Not even to get anything to eat. It's not like you didn't want to, but whenever you thought about eating that damned voice in your head always ruined your appetite. So you just kept your eyes glued to your laptop as you laid buried under your blankets. YouTube was always a good distraction. That was until now.

Now that you glanced at the clock you were reminded of the fact that the work day had been over for you hours ago. The fact that no one seemed to care that you weren't there. You didn't even want to look at your phone. You already knew there weren't any missed calls or texts from anyone. No one cared enough.

If only you had actually looked, you would have seen how wrong you were. How wrong it was.

It was at 11pm when it was all just too much for you. Youtube wasn't doing its job in distracting you anymore and the thoughts just kept getting more and more persistent. The worst part was, you didn't even have the energy to fight them anymore. At this point, to you, they all just seemed to be facts. Like you were trying to get yourself to see the truth.

You weren't wanted.

You weren't needed.

You weren't missed.

You should just die.

You believed them.

Closing your laptop, you sat up in bed, letting your legs dangle off the side of the mattress. You looked down at your feet blankly. You couldn't even bring yourself to cry, you just felt numb as you prepared yourself for what you were about to do. Slowly, you got up and went to your bathroom. Once you were inside you made sure to avoid your own ruthless stare in the mirror.

You walked over to the bathtub and turned the nob of the faucet before sticking in the drain plug, not particularly caring about the temperature of the water. You weren't going to be using it for long anyways. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub you rolled up the sleeves of your hoodie and looked over your arms as you waited for the tub to fill. They were littered with many scars of many different ages. The oldest being more than a decade old, and the newest being only a mere few hours. You grabbed the razor from the sink and turned it over in your fingers. These next couple ones would be more permanent.

knock

knock

knock

The sound at your door didn't seem to reach your ears and were only met by silence. This caused Connor's LED to flicker into a pale yellow. Why weren't you answering? Were you harmed? The android tried knocking again, even calling out your name, but was met with nothing once more. He was just about to go and bust down your window like he had once done to Hank when said older man stopped him.

"Don't you even think about it," he said, pointing an accusatory finger at the android.

"But Lieutenant, (Y/n) might be-" Connor argued but was cut off when Hank held up the finger that was once pointing at him to signify 'one moment'.

Hank then bent down, with a little bit of a groan, before lifting up the corner of your welcome mat and plucking up a spare key. Once Hank stood back up with a huff, he shooed Connor away from the door before unlocking and opening it. Connor wasted no time cutting Hank off from the entrance and stepping inside.

Immediately upon entering Connor noted the complete darkness, but that didn't really matter much to him. Through the darkness he knew you weren't in the livingroom or kitchen, a fact made clearer when Hank flicked on the lights. However Connor also noted that there seemed to be no traces of a break-in or a struggle at all. At least not the definition of a struggle he was familiar with.

"(Y/n)?" he called out.

Silence

Connor moved through your home to where he assumed your bedroom. This was the first time he had entered your humble abode and under different circumstances he would've taken more time to investigate the surroundings. Get to know you a bit better. But right now that could wait until he was sure you were okay. He didn't know why it even seemed to be a priority but he couldn't just ignore it any longer.

Your room was just as dark as the rest of the house and also completely lacked your form. The only thing illuminating the room was the light coming from the bathroom which had it's door wide open. Before Hank could stop and scold him about the importance of privacy, Connor made a beeline towards the bathroom.

The sight that he had walked into made his LED flash a dangerous red and eyes widen. You were laying in your bathtub. Fully clothed. Water tinted pink. Your dangerously pale face. However it wasn't those small details that caused the android to suddenly rush over to your side. It was the two long gashes on both of your wrists. Upon scanning you he found that you had lost a lot of blood, but you were still alive. Barely, but he could work with that.

"Connor what the fuck are you- Jesus christ," Hank cut himself off once he saw for himself what was going on.

"Call an ambulance Lieutenant. (Y/n), (Y/n) can you hear me?" Connor managed to keep his voice calm and steady, a feat that took more effort than he would have liked.

The sound of Connor's voice, and feeling you body shift as he gently lifted you out of the cold water made your eyes gently flutter open. Your dulling (e/c) met with his worry written coffee brown ones.

"Connor...?" you called out weakly.

Despite the fact your vision was blurred from a mix of blood loss and building tears, you could recognize his form immediately. What you weren't sure of however was that if it was just a trick of the mond or not. A sense of comfort in your dying seconds.

"Yes (Y/n), it's me. I'm here, you're going to be okay," he said in the most reassuring tone he could muster.

As he spoke he took off his jacket and gently tied it around your left arm while doing the same with a towel for your right. Guilt and regret ate at you from the inside as you silently watched him, his LED still very red and blinking every so often. Hell you could even see the worry on his perfect features. Before you knew it tears started brimming your eyes before large droplets rolled down your pale cheeks.

"I-I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice cracking as your fragile body wracked with soft sobs.

Connor froze when he heard your little voice but it didn't take him another moment to hold you close to his chest.

"It's- It's going to be okay. It's all going to be okay (Y/n), I promise," Connors words were soft and confident, you almost believed him.

You heard what you thought was Hank's voice speak but you couldn't quite register what he said. It was becoming harder and harder to keep your eyes open. As if your eyelids suddenly weighed a million pounds. You shifted further into Connor and you barely heard him speak but the whole world seemed to be fading. Soon enough you closed your eyes and couldn't seem to open them again.

At least, not for several hours. When you did eventually flutter your eyes open again you were mixed with confusion, and then relief. You knew by the pristine white of everything, along with the abundance of machines you were hooked up to that you were in a hospital. As the memories of the previous night came flooding back your eyes dropped down to your newly bandaged arms, and an IV transferring blood into your system. Like last night, a deep sense of guilt, regret, and shame squeezed at your heart.

When your eyes wandered to your left you flinched slightly when you saw Connor standing next to the bed. His eyes were closed and his LED was gently flickering amber, you assumed he was in sleep mode. However as you jolted slightly at his presence, the sudden movement was enough to alert him back awake. His eyes fluttered open and were now on you, seemingly softening a tad the moment he registered it was you. Your eyes only met for a second before you shifted your gaze down to your hands. The guilt and shame made your eyes sting as tears threatened to form in full.

"How are you feeling, (Y/n)?" Connor asked, breaking the silence.

There was a certain sincerity you've never heard from him when he spoke. It made you heart clench but you weren't sure if it was in a good or bad way.

"I'm okay," you said, your voice hoarse and barely audible.

"Good, I'm glad," he replied.

There was another long silence between you two. The only thing keeping the room from being dead silent being the steady beeping and whirring of various machines. This time it was you who spoke up first.

"I'm s-sorry," you croaked.

Your voice was somehow quieter than before and it cracked near the end as your throat tightened up. You were trying desperately to hold back the tears but to no avail. Large teardrops fell from your eyes and rolled down your cheeks.

"I'm so so sorry," you continued, your body being wracked with heavy sobs.

Connor just stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do for a brief moment. His LED went from blue, to golden, and flickered a dangerous red before settling back to golden. Suddenly, he reached out to grasp your hand. His grip was firm yet gentle, and it captured your attention immediately.

Honestly, he didn't know why he did it. But the sight of your fragile and vulnerable form made his biocomonants feel like they were being crushed. Much like how he felt when he first saw you last night. Except it wasn't nearly as bad. Last bight he felt like someone ripped out his therium pump altogether.

That alone made him confused as to why he felt anything to begin with. It was a question he had been asking himself for a while. At least almost as long as he'd met you. He'd run a million diagnostics on himself and they'd always come back with everything working smoothly. Even after last night. It baffled him.

However at this moment, when you looked up at him with your big, glossy (e/c) eyes, he ceased to think about it. All that mattered right now was you. That was all the information he needed.

"You don't need to be sorry," he said softly.

You intertwined your fingers with his and practically held onto him for dear life. Connor noted how your stress levels seemed to go down at his touch, so he decided to take a seat next to you at the edge of the bed. Once you realized what he was doing you scoot over slightly to make more room.

"Everything is alright, just take deep breaths. Can you do that for me?" he asked soothingly, tilting his head ever so slightly.

You nodded and closed your eyes, focusing on nothing but taking deep breaths. Well, that wasn't the only thing you were focused on. You were also focused on Connors fingers that were laced with yours. It really did help. After what felt like hours, your breath seemed to finally stabilize, and so did Connor's LED, settling on a calm blue.

"May I ask you something (Y/n)?" Connor inquired, a question you heard him ask often.

You opened your eyes and looked up to him. You didn't respond right away, knowing exactly what it was he was going to ask, and you dreaded having to answer it. But eventually, after a few moments of him patiently watching you with those warm chocolate eyes, you slowly nodded.

"Why did you do it?"

His voice was softer than ever, and confusion was written all over your face as he tried to understand. You had to look away from him before you broke down again. A soft sight escaped you and he gave your hand a little reassuring squeeze. You knew you had to tell him, so you took a deep breath before speaking.

"I.... I felt worthless. Like nobody cared if I was gone," you spoke slowly, avoiding Connor's eyes at all cost.

"I stayed home today to see if anyone would care if I wasn't there. No one called. I thought that meant I was right. That I didn't mean anything to anyone. That I was a waste of space. That I should just.....just die," you continued, surprised at yourself at how you were able to keep it together.

Connor listened, his LED whirring golden as he processed the information. He then waited for a moment or two before responding. Wanting to be absolutely sure you were finished before he spoke.

"I assure you that I was aware you were missing as soon as I returned to the prescinct. I regret that I wasn't able to bring you your morning hot chocolate," Connor smiled slightly as he spoke, but it soon dropped along with his gaze before he continued.

"But what I regret more was that I wasn't fast enough to stop you. I'm sorry (Y/n)," the sorrow he held in his voice, and the flucking of his now amber LED made you squeeze his hand reassuringly.

"Connor, if it weren't for you I'd be dead. You saved me. You have nothing to be sorry for," you offered him a weak smile once his eyes returned to you.

Connor returned the smile. It was awkward but it wasn't forced, and it was adorable. His LED returned to sky blue, his chocolatey brown hues glancing down at your intertwined fingers. He gently stroked your knuckles with his thumb, the small action making heat rise up into your cheeks. For the first time since you had been awake, there was a comfortable silence for a few moments before Connor spoke up.

"(Y/n), can you promise me something?" his eyes flicked up to meet yours as he spoke.

"What is it?" you replied, subconsciously tilting your own head.

A habit you picked up from the adorable android.

"Promise me you won't try to take your life again?"

"I promise. But can you promise me something?" you implored.

"As long as it's within my capabilities, I'll try," he said sincerely.

"Promise me you won't forget about me."

"I think I can manage that," he said with a little playful smile before adding,

"I promise."

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A/N: OOF sorry if the end was kinda ass. And also sorry its so mf long. ALSO sorry its kinda dark. Hope y'all enjoyed anywayss 💙

[sleepymarmot]

Opinion: MAG 187 doesn’t invalidate Helen’s more sympathetic moments

It is possible to interpret the episode as retconning everything the Distortion has ever said and done into a manipulation targeted at Jon, which would undo the character’s complexity and make them revolve entirely around the protagonist. The key for this interpretation seems to lie in the following exchange: 

ARCHIVIST You worked to hurt us and help us, all with the same smile, until we can barely tell one from the other. Keeping us off-balance, constantly second-guessing our own opinions of you. Never quite crossing a line we could never forgive, but never putting yourself on the line either. And when one face finally stopped smiling, you just changed the face.

HELEN Fine. So if that’s all true… why? Why would I do any of that? What’s my actual motive?

ARCHIVIST I don’t think you even have one. It’s just what you are.

But I don’t think most of what was said here is new information.

Let’s go back to season 3. Here’s how the newborn Helen Distortion explains her identity:

HELEN Michael isn’t me. Not now.

ARCHIVIST What happened?

HELEN He got… distracted. Let feelings that shouldn’t have been his overwhelm me. Lost my way.

In other words, the Distortion’s modus operandi is a long, long game of cat and mouse (see also: MAG 146 Threshold). Michael got sidetracked by his (or Michael Shelley’s) revenge against the Archivist(s) and decided to actually kill the mouse. But it was unnatural for the Distortion, so it shook off the troublesome identity, and Helen was both an instrument to get rid of Michael and a continuation of what was started by him and worked so well.

ARCHIVIST A-are you still going to kill me?

HELEN No. That was Michael’s desire, not mine.

The Distortion doesn’t want to send the Archivist into its corridors. Why would it, when it’s so rewarding to misdirect and mess with him in other ways?

Now, for episode 115.

HELEN I… I’m not… I’m not entirely sure. I’m… having trouble. I don’t think I was meant to be Helen.

ARCHIVIST I’m – I don’t understand.

HELEN Neither do I. Michael was… pulling away. His anger was interfering. I don’t, I don’t think I have a choice but to be Helen. Self is difficult.

ARCHIVIST Michael, he, uh, he, he wasn’t meant to be you either, though, was he?

HELEN No.

There’s an internal conflict between Helen and the Distortion -- just like there was between Michael and the Distortion. I don’t think the new episode invalidates or undoes that. On the contrary: it restated that Michael strayed from the Distortion’s purpose, which means Helen could have done the same.

HELEN Something happened when I became ‘Helen’. She wasn’t right, she wasn’t ready.

ARCHIVIST I don’t…

HELEN Before, talking to you made Helen feel better.

ARCHIVIST You’re not that Helen!

HELEN I just want… I just want to feel better.

Helen was supposed to be a meal that replenished the Distortion’s energy. But it seems that the food was not as fully digested as the Distortion would prefer, and tried to bite back.

ARCHIVIST Wh-what? Why should I believe… a-a-any of this? You’ve told me over and over that you’re… what was the phrase? The ‘throat of delusion’? All of this is –

HELEN I have never told you a lie, Archivist. I wouldn’t dare. I, I just thought you might understand.

ARCHIVIST Uh… How could I possibly…

HELEN We’re both changing, Archivist. I had hoped, that together –

The Distortion has never lied (and now we know why). The Distortion has truly changed. Its new face genuinely wanted Jon’s company, just like the previous face had wanted him dead. But both faces interact with Jon in a way that leaves him confused and upset, because such is their nature.

In MAG 131, Helen insists that her identity is not a mask but a new but inseparable part of herself. As we now know, she is not lying: 

ARCHIVIST

You’re still wearing her face.

HELEN

Not this again. I’m not “wearing” anything, Archivist. I am at least as much ‘Helen Richardson’ as you are the ‘Jonathan Sims’ that first joined this Institute. Things change. People change. It happens.

We get a double confirmation that Helen is different from the Distortion’s previous incarnations in MAG 146, in the words of both Helen and her victim:

This wasn’t like before; there was no playfulness here, none of that malicious joy that I had always felt coming off it. Now there was just a cold hunger, a deep anger, as though I had no right to just stand there looking at it. The street was silent, but I could feel it screaming at me to open it.

HELEN (all business) Oh, well; the son, I was pursuing long before I was even Michael. And technically, I didn’t eat the old man. He passed away from terror long before I got a chance to open properly.

ARCHIVIST His son Marcus – he – he was fine when I read his father’s statement two years ago, but now, suddenly, I can’t get through to him.

HELEN No. I imagine not. I decided it was time to finish that game a few months ago.

ARCHIVIST You – Why?

HELEN Not sure. I suppose Helen didn’t have quite the same attachment to him as a project. I’m not quite as much for decades-long campaigns of subtle terror these days.

ARCHIVIST (soft) That’s horrible.

HELEN Is it? We do what we need to do when it comes to feeding, don’t we? (pointed) Don’t we, Archivist?

Helen Distortion doesn’t derive joy from terrorizing people for months or years with doors. That’s just food now. Now she gets the same joy from messing with people with the help of her humanlike appearance and personality.

An often-quoted line from MAG 152:

HELEN Even if it were capable of doing so, what possible reason would the Eye have to change how you feel, when it makes no difference to your actions? Helen was like you, at first. She felt such guilt over taking people. Until one day she realized she wasn’t going to stop doing it. So she chose to stop feeling guilty.

Again, the new episode confirms two things: 1) Helen wasn’t lying. 2) Helen was telling this to Jon to make him doubt his loyalties. And again, this is not new information! She laughs at his misery and confusion very openly!

Episode 157. Jon gets a shocking reminder that Helen is Just Here To Troll:

HELEN Because I have a good enough sense of what’s going on to know that it will be much more fun without my involvement! (begins laughing)

...

ARCHIVIST Just tell me what’s going on. Please.

HELEN (gleefully) Bad things, Archivist. Really bad things.

MAG 164, Helen’s first appearance in s5. There’s so much going on, let’s try to list at least some of it: she congratulates jonmartin on their relationship, immediately tries to play them against each other, cheerfully deflects all blame onto Jon and also Georgie and Melanie, admits to betrayal, announces she wants to be friends “again”, then expresses pity that Jon isn’t hostile to her enough. Absolutely everything she does is about creating relationship chaos.

MAG 166, second encounter with Helen post-Change, and she is delighted to see disagreement between Jon and Martin unprompted by her:

MARTIN Yeah, I, I, I think we should go for it, get our murder on!

ARCHIVIST (disbelief) Sorry, what?

HELEN (surprised delight) Yes, Martin!

In MAG 177, she moves the focus of ridiculously blatant manipulation and provocation onto Basira, and also doesn’t bother to hide she enjoys scaring her “friends”:

HELEN Not interrupting anything, Am I?

MARTIN Christ, Helen, you scared the life out of me.

HELEN [Insincere] Sorry, darling.

And finally, MAG 183. By now, everyone in the scene is aware that she’s here just to get a rise out of our heroes and metaphorically eat popcorn.

MARTIN Look. Listen, I’m getting really sick of all thi–

ARCHIVIST Leave it, Martin. She’s just trying to get under your skin.

MARTIN Yeah? Well, she’s really good at it!

HELEN Aww. Thanks, sweetie. But to be honest, I’m mainly just here to see which path you choose.

Which brings us to MAG 187. We already know that Helen isn’t Jon and Martin’s “friend” as in “ally” -- she hangs out with them to provoke strong responses and sow chaos. The plot twist is that she’s not just doing it for fun, like a human would -- it is her way of avatar feeding.

The Distortion has always been a trickster. I am glad that they died this way, instead of becoming either an over-the-top villain or a reluctant hero -- before the plot could corner them into becoming one. And as Jon said, the reason Helen had to die was not her trickster nature, but the side she picked on the “Eyepocalipse: keep or cancel?” issue. 

The reveal in 187 does not contradict the information we had before, and so it doesn’t retcon or undo the complexity or character development that the Distortion had. The fact that the Distortion fed on Jon (and others’) reaction to them does not mean that they never had any motivations or thoughts beyond that. Jon says it himself: “keeping us off-balance” is not the Distortion’s motivation, it’s “who they are”, it’s the natural, instinctive way they conduct themselves. We have learned that the Distortion's behavior was Eldritch Trolling instead of Regular Trolling, that's all.

[jeawrites]

Tubbo is the young god of nature and animals. The forest is his domain and he is young and thriving in this new world when he meets someone he'd like to call a friend. god!Tubbo in a dream smp au where literally everything he has done has been for tommy. Soft found family content is what I LIVE for and I would die if you included Tubbo keeping his godly status a secret only to reveal it in some dramatic fight when tommy was abt to die

(This request made me go :D and I just wanted u to know that)

Warnings: Cussing, Violence, descriptions of injury, reference to Tubbo's execution, character death

Vaguely based off the smp lore, kind of an alternate to the overthrowing of Schlatt.

"I didn't help you just so you could replace one tyrant with another!"

Tubbo stood frozen with shock, the man before him shouting things that he couldn't understand. He was on their side. He was on their side! And, now they all ran a chance of a painful death.

He glanced around the world. The grass was soft beneath his feet and freshly made. The world was generated not too long ago and he was blessed to be the protector of its nature. The forest protected him as he came to terms with who he was now from who he was in another world. From where he last left an impact.

The wind brushed his cheek and he was startled from his bliss by the sound of footsteps echoing through the woods. With a sharp inhale he ducked around a tree, hiding with unease. Mortals weren't an uncommon sight, really he enjoyed befriending them, but it was so soon. People were already spawning in? He was sure he'd have more time.

A boy emerged from the trees, grumbling to himself as he gripped an Axe tightly. "Stupid people taking my stuff," he huffed, glancing around before letting the tool disappear. "Join the world! It'll be fun!" he mocked and rolled his eyes, rubbing his face afterwards.

Tubbo watched, his eyes studying the other. He heard a squeak from the bushes and made up his mind. With a bit of forced confidence he stepped out from behind the tree, a nervous smile filling his face. "Hello."

Tommy jumped, his head snapping towards Tubbo in surprise. "Shit! Who are you?" he asked, voice pitched and startled. "Christ you scared me," he added, gripping at his chest.

"I'm sorry! Sorry," Tubbo said, putting his hands up to show peace. "I didn't mean to scare you! I'm- my names Tubbo! I sorry, I just saw you here and I'm new and-"

"Jesus man, calm down," Tommy huffed. "No need to apologize, I was just caught by surprise s'all." He straightened up and nodded. "I'm Tommy. Its nice to meet you, Tubbo." He held his hand in front of him and a pair of boots appeared. "Here, your feet must hurt a bit."

Tubbo stared at the item in confusion but took it with an added insistence of Tommy shoving his hand forward a bit more. "Oh, um... Thank you," he said with a small smile. "You- that's really nice of you!"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm a nice guy! Say, I don't suppose you've really been on all that long, yeah? Why don't we be friends," he suggested with a grin. "I'll help you get some stuff and you can help me stop people from taking my stuff," he chuckled.

And, Tubbo had never become attached this quickly. Despite being young he knew the consequences of relying on a person. But, he saw an underlying genuineness to Tommy's suggestion and despite being offered such simple kindness, Tubbo couldn't help but agree. "That sounds great!"

Tommy being his first friend on the world made Tubbo find a reason to connect everything he did back to him.

Maybe that's why he found himself gasping as Techno pointed the crossbow at him. Respawning took a lot out of him and he'd never make it back if he were to fall now. He'd never make it back. Tommy would be in danger and he wouldn't be able to help.

His fingers tightened at his side, his suit crumpled at the edges and covered in dirt. The world screamed at him to move, the grass pleaded for him to run but he couldn't. He needed to protect him.

Tubbo hummed softly, his fingers tracing over the leaves of some nearby bushes. Its been a while sense he had came to this world but the nature was just as beautiful as ever. Even with the growing populations and buildings beginning to stretch out, the forest still preserved a beauty around it that made him happy.

He heard a whisper in his ear with the wind and he mumbled a thank you to the trees around him as he stood up straight, patting out his shirt with a small smile before turning to spot someone coming from between the break in the woods.

"Tubbo! My friend, how are you?" Tommy beamed as he approached, arms opening wide to emphasise his excitement.

Tubbo laughed softly and shrugged a bit. "Good as I can be!" he grinned and stepped forward. "Its been... Nice these last few days," he noted, looked around.

"Its been a nice break," Tommy responded easily, patting his shoulder before gesturing back with his head. "Of course, we do need to do some planning in case something is to happen. Wilbur's going nuts," he joked.

Tubbo glanced towards the opening in the cave where Philza stood. He heard plenty about his adventures and his life in other worlds. The man was a living legend and the one dead before him was Wilbur. The one who Tommy had been looking up to.

He gazed back to Techno who was ready to fire until Tommy ran forward.

"No! Techno stop!" he shouted, punching the man. Techno stumbled, rubbing his cheek before he turned his aim to Tommy.

Tubbo's eyes widened.

He awoke with a gasp, clutching his face immediately. There was an ache where his fingers brushed, and he could feel the scarring. His eyes closed and he breathed out. He was alive.

He glanced over, pausing as he saw wide eyes staring at him. "... Tommy?"

The blonde shot from his seat, pulling Tubbo close. "You're okay!" he exclaimed, shoulders shaking. "Y-you're okay..." his voice shook. "I can't believe he shot you."

"I won't let you hurt Tubbo again!" Tommy shouted, shielding himself as Techno brought his sword down upon him.

"You don't understand, Tommy," Techno hissed, swinging his leg and knocking the boy down. He pointed his cross bow at him again, finger on the trigger. "This isn't a choice."

Tubbo felt his anger grow. "Stop it!" he shouted, vines extending from the ground and angrily enveloping Techno, restraining the man. Techno held his hand out, squeezing. The vines wrapped tightly around Techno, the man disappearing quickly.

He had killed him.

The battle field fell silent. Tubbo let the vines fall and he swayed a bit. He hadn't used his powers in so long, it felt as though his energy had completely depleted. Before he fell, he heard the distant sound of a shout from Tommy.

--

He woke a few days later, though he mostly stayed asleep that long out of worry. He couldn't bare to face his friend after pulling a stunt like that- he was afraid to be hated.

His eyes opened and he sat up, rubbing his eyes. This all felt oddly familiar... He turned his head and met a pair of eyes. They were calm and tired.

"Tommy," he greeted softly.

"I can't believe you," Tommy huffed as he stood, walking over and hugging Tubbo tightly. "Don't worry me like that, dick! I thought you died- that was scary," he huffed.

Tubbo teared up and gripped Tommy tightly. "You're not mad?"

Tommy pulled back. "Mad?" he rolled his eyes. "You mean over you killing Techno? Of course not! He had it coming."

"I- I mean over how I killed him."

"Oh," Tommy mumbled. Then, he shrugged. "Tubbo, that was the coolest fuckin thing I'd seen. If I was angry about anything it was your potential death! Besides, getting pissed at you would be pointless. You're my only family left," he smiled.

Family.

Tubbo felt a sob leave him at the word and he pulled Tommy into another hug.

They were family.

[libsterslobsters]

The Battle of Evermore

A Bucky Barnes fanfic

Summary: Set during the events of Captain America: Civil War. Bucky and the reader's worst nightmare has come true: they're captured, and there's nothing even Steve Rogers can do... or is there?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem! enhanced! reader

(reader sees shards of the future, can understand every language, and processes information quickly)

Warnings: Violence, angst, fluff, self-loathing, Civil War spoilers, language

Author's note: The female character's name is never given so that this can be read as a self-insert, but at this point, I've written so much about her and Bucky that I've named her Violet. Still working on a last name. If you have any suggestions, comment below.

*************************************************

It’s not exactly unexpected, them having to fight their way out. Steve always hopes for the best, but prepares for the worst, especially when it involves The Winter Soldier, or as he knows him, Bucky Barnes. But still, the last thing he’s expecting when his best friend crashes through the door of an apartment several storeys below is to barely catch (and if it weren’t for his enhanced hearing, it’s guaranteed he would’ve missed it altogether) a woman hiss,

“Buck, what the hell-”

“Get out of here. Now.”

Again, he’s known the guy for years, had him bust up enough back-alley fights in their day, so he knows Bucky tends to have a flare for the dramatic when it comes to any sort of altercation, but it still seems a little overboard, the moves he’s pulling out to kick these hostile’s sorry tails. That is, until he’s out of the building and sees a hooded figure, small enough that his first guess would be female, waiting in a dark corner. That’s when it clicks: a diversion. But how did she manage- She takes off running, cutting his internal questioning short, and when her sweatshirt rides up, he sees a harness around her waist, carabiner still attached, and rope burns on her hands. That answers that.

All thoughts of whoever the strange woman was are pushed aside in the pursuit that follows. In fact, Steve’s almost forgotten about her until they’re being loaded into armored cars like criminals (which, he supposes, they are now), and as they’re leading Bucky away, he freezes on the spot, not budging for a full ten seconds despite his guards doing their best to get him moving again. Steve follows his line of sight to yet another car window, and then he realizes why Bucky suddenly looked so defeated. They got her too.

On the ride back to base, Bucky’s separated from the rest of them, but the woman is thrown in with him, Sam, and T’Challa, since apparently, Rhodey’s decided she’s not a threat. Either that, or he’s hoping being stuck with the men she was trying to escape will rattle her enough that, once they’ve landed, she’ll talk. If Steve had to venture a guess, he’d say that won’t work; if the way she keeps her eyes down and ignores anyone speaking to her wasn’t enough to indicate that she’s not playing ball, his knowledge that her escaping the building wasn’t a matter of chance (no, his bet’s on both of them having prepared for something like this in advance, how else can you account for the diversion and her rappelling down the side of the building) would do the trick. Just before they’re led into the building, he slides past her, and murmurs, “Steve Rogers. Don’t answer their questions. I’ll find you later.” It’s brief, but her eyes flick up to study him, then back down again, and he takes that as acknowledgment.

It’s a lot of hassle, a lot of questions, and a lot of paperwork. He’s half-way expecting to be put in a cell, but after a good two hours, he’s remanded to a room to wait. About an hour later, Sam is escorted in as well. After the routine questions (are you okay, what did you say to them, what did they say to you), Sam finally lands on the immediate issue at hand.

“Cap, who the hell’s the girl?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

That’s not entirely true. He’s had a good amount of time to think it over, and he’s narrowed the possibilities down. The first thing he considered was, as unlikely as it seems at first blush, the girl is Bucky’s daughter. Who knows if they’ve sent out the Winter Soldier for things other than assassinations. He could’ve been asked to extract information in ways that don’t include the use of excessive force. Steve almost immediately rules that one out. She doesn’t look enough like him for that possibility. Age wouldn’t necessarily be a factor considering Bucky’s been on and off ice for the past seventy years. Still, the dynamic felt… off, somehow. His bet’s on not related at all.

His second thought is a partner. Someone else who’s escaped Hydra and is now hiding out. Well, considering that she got caught (and if the rope burns are anything to judge from, she’s no expert at quick escapes), that seems unlikely as well. They get along, obviously, and she has to be important, or else he wouldn’t have risked so much to give her time to get away, so possibly a friend. Still, that level of devastation upon seeing her captured? That seems a little more intense than an average acquaintanceship.

That leaves only one possibility; a romantic entanglement. A part of Steve is happy for Bucky. He’s had a whole lot of miserable in his life so far. He deserves to find some joy. Another part of him is rolling it’s eyes at the fact that, even in hiding when he really should be keeping to himself, his best friend managed to find himself in the company of a pretty girl. The biggest part, however, is scared. If this is serious (and all things considered, it’d be foolish to think otherwise), this girl is yet another liability, another complication in vindicating Bucky.

As he’s discussing things with Sharon, he realizes that he can see the feed from the girl’s cell as well as Bucky’s. The volume is turned down low, but if he concentrates, he can hear her.

“Please, if anyone is listening, you have to stop that doctor. He’s not who he says he is!” Steve brushes it off as hysterics. That is, until it dawns on him that she’d have no way of knowing about the doctor interviewing Bucky.

“God! You people! I’ve been hiding from this fucking government since I was eighteen years old! Now that you’ve got me behind bars, the least you could do is listen! I’m telling you, he’s not who he says he is! Don’t let him in the room with Barnes! It’s a mistake! People are going to die!” That makes him wonder…

“Sharon, do you have a file on the girl?”

She shakes her head.

“Not that I know of, but I also haven’t looked. She’s just some random Romanian woman, right?” That’s what he thought, but now he’s not so sure. Her accent… she sounds American. “Couldn’t even get her name out of her. My guess would be that she’s insane. All she’d tell us is that we’re making a big mistake and people are going to die because of it.”

He’s about to say something more, but that’s when the lights are cut.

The battle that follows leaves little time to think of anything other than capturing Bucky before the other side does (oh, and trying to survive themselves), but in the brief lull after they come out of the river, he manages to tell Sam,

“Spring the girl.”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it. I have a hunch.” One that admittedly doesn’t make much sense, but then again, that seems to be the way his life works.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“It was a mistake. I told them so.” Sam’s inclined to believe the same as Sharon when he approaches the high-security cell with a pacing woman inside. “A fucking mistake. And now there’s a bunch of dead people topside and Barnes is who knows where, probably either with a couple bullet holes in him or else a couple bullet holes in the other guys.” She has to be crazy. She’s talking to herself. But how does she know- “I see the damn future, for fuck’s sake!” Well, that explains that.

It seems like she’s worn herself out because, her back against the wall, she slides down slowly to the floor as if her legs have given out from under her.

“I see the future, and I still couldn’t save him.” Great. He’s been sent to extract a homicidal maniac’s fortune-telling girlfriend. Awesome.

“Yeah, well-” She startles, cracking her head on the glass wall. “-unless you want a really bad headache, I’d get against the back wall right now if I were you, because I’m about to bust you out of here.”

“Who are you?” If he blasts the control panel… as a last resort, he could quite literally blow out the wall.

“A friend of Steve Rogers.” Sent to collect her crazy ass. The least she could do is stop glaring at him. “And I meant what I said about that headache. Get back and cover your ears.”

Finally, she moves, but not before shooting back,

“If you’re lying, just be aware that I won’t hesitate to kick you in the family jewels so hard, you’ll sing soprano.” Well, that’s comforting.

For a high-security facility, the locks go down fairly easily. Still, he hesitates before opening the door. “I’ll let you out so long as you promise to keep your hands to yourself and your crazy away from me, deal?”

She snorts.

“Can’t promise anything about the crazy because it comes and goes, but I won’t touch you. Good enough?” Can he really say no?

“Yeah. Whatever.” He allows the door to open, jumping out of the way just in case.

Now that she’s out of her cage, she looks considerably less nuts. Still, he’s not taking any chances.

“Rogers told me to spring you while he rounded up your boyfriend. He’s gone psycho, by the way.” If he was expecting a reaction, he’s disappointed. She just sighs.

“I was afraid of that. They turned a good man into a weapon.” Alright, ignoring the fact that he wouldn’t exactly call Barnes a good man…

“What’s your name?” She just raises an eyebrow.

“I’ll tell you mine when you tell me yours.” Sam doesn’t have time for this.

“Well, whatever your name is, stick close. If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to hide, you hide. If I tell you to shut up, you shut up. Got it?” Not waiting for an answer, he starts making his way out of the building.

He’s halfway expecting her to make a break for it the second his back is turned but, five sharp turns and a handful of sudden stops later, she’s still right behind him. Well, at the very least, her crazy hasn’t affected her ability to follow directions.

Trouble finally finds them when they attempt to sneak out the proverbial back door. Sam doesn’t even have a chance to shout at her to hide or run between incapacitating various guards, and by the time he remembers he’s supposed to be looking out for Barnes’ girlfriend, there’s an unconscious man laying by her side and she’s got the business end of a gun turned on another, who’s kneeling in front of her with his hands up.

“Don’t shoot him!” As he says it, her foot makes contact with the man’s chin, and he drops.

“Wasn’t gonna.”

She still hasn’t let go of the weapon. Alright, he needs to defuse this situation as fast as possible (oh, and without getting himself killed).

“You wanna put the gun down, What’s-your-face?”

“Nope. I’m hanging onto it.” As she says it, she checks the bullets. “Don’t worry. I know how to use it.” How is that supposed to keep him from worrying?

“Yeah well, keep it pointed away from me.” Is she rolling her eyes? Great. He’s dealing with an overgrown teenager.

“Safety’s on anyway.” He’s starting to think that between the knocked out cold super soldier and the awake and definitely dangerous crazy lady, he’s wishing he had Steve’s job.

“Come on.”

He only manages to run a few more steps before she asks,

“Where are we going?”

He’s not entirely sure, but he goes with what he’s almost certain will bring her along.

“To Barnes.” Sure enough, she doesn’t say anything else.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Once she arrives at… wherever the hell they are… she’s instructed to wait where she is and keep her mouth shut. Normally she’d inform whoever’s telling her that to stick it directly up their ass, but Bucky warned her time and again about what he could inadvertently do to her if he was activated, and considering Steve Rogers has the same capabilities, she’s not going to chance it. That, and Mr. “Keep your crazy away from me” seems a little testy, even if she does still have her gun (the fact that they haven’t taken it from her says more than enough about how secure they both feel in their ability to overpower her). No, she’ll bide her time. For now, it’s enough that she knows where Barnes is and that he’s mostly okay, if having a long snooze.

Eventually he does come around, and the conversation that follows both chills her to the bone and breaks her heart. He’s matter-of-fact about everything, calmly explaining to Steve and Sam (she finally overhears his name) what they’re up against, what those terrible people have made of him and so many others, but the guilt he feels is clear, at least to her. Alright, that’s it. She’s not going to sit still and be quiet any longer. She’ll just have to be smart about it.

Once Sam steps out to call whoever it is he knows that can help him, she starts to creep forward, slowly, deliberately, careful to avoid making noise. She’s almost there, about to leave the refuge of hiding behind a piece of broken down heavy machinery, when she hears something that makes her stop short.

“Who’s the girl, Buck?” This ought to be interesting. It was necessary to have a conversation about what they would do if one or the other of them was captured at any point in time, have a plan in place, but since this is Steve Rogers, she has no idea what the answer will be.

“Call her a personal attachment.” It’s a good answer. Vague, not giving too much away.

“Yeah, I figured that much out myself. Wanna give me a little more information?”

There’s a long pause, then-

“She’s important. The same way Peggy’s important to you.” That makes no sense to her, but it must appease Steve.

“I’m glad. You deserve that.” She’s definitely missing something here. “What’s her name?” That’s when she chooses to step forward.

They both turn towards her as she gives her name. “You should also know that I only give people one opportunity to tell me what to do. You and Sam already used yours.”

Steve glances back at Bucky, who shrugs, smirking.

“Don’t look at me. I used mine up two years ago.” A wave of relief courses through her. His sense of humor is still there, at least.

Steve nods. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. I still have a question, though.” She indicates that it’s okay. “Are you gonna be as much of a pain in the neck as he is?” A joke, or at least she thinks it is.

“Only if I can’t be a bigger one.” If the laugh is any indication, she was right.

“I have a question too.” This time Bucky’s the one asking as Steve sets about freeing his arm. “Doll, where’d you get the gun?”

She decides to go with the truth, but a lighter version of it.

“A nice guard gave it to me.”

“Oh, he gave it to you, huh?”

She nods, slowly approaching him.

“Yes. It’s amazing how accommodating people can be once you’ve elbowed them in the ribs and kneed them in the groin.”

With a groan of metal, he’s free. As Steve helps him to his feet, he asks,

“What exactly did you teach her?”

“A few things. The rest she’d learned before me.” Yeah, well, you don’t spend your life running and hiding without learning how to defend yourself. Although, from the look of things, the company she’s fallen into could crush her without breaking a sweat.

After exchanging a few more words, Steve excuses himself, leaving her alone with the man she’s been so worried about. The atmosphere immediately changes, all attempts on both of their parts to seem unaffected, strong, gone to the wayside as he opens his arms and she folds herself into them.

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

She shakes her head, not lifting it from where it’s buried in his chest.

“No. I was locked up the whole time. Sam sprang me loose.” She can feel some of the tension leak out of him as he heaves a sigh of relief.

“I shouldn’t have gotten you involved. If you’d stayed-” Not waiting for him to finish his thought, she reaches up and taps the back of his head.

“Shut up. If you’d left without me, you know I’d just have gone to find you and gotten myself into even more trouble.”

He chuckles.

“You do have a way of doing that.”

Neither of them say much for the next few minutes, just concentrating on, in this brief moment, being together. Finally, with a sigh, Bucky separates himself from her and holds her at arm’s length.

“Look at me.”

It’s an abrupt segue, and she frowns.

“I need to make sure this is getting through that pretty and incredibly hard head of yours, because it’s important.” Swallowing down a lump in her throat, she meets his eyes. “If they activate me again, drop any weapons you have, get on your knees, and put your hands up.”

“What-”

“I don’t know much about how all of it works, but I do know that when I’m like that, I’ll ignore you if you don’t present a threat. It’s a shitty solution, but it’s the only way I can think of to half-way make sure you’re safe.” She’s about to protest (he’s with Steve now, whoever that not-a-doctor was is gone, no one’s going to activate him, and even though she knows what he can do, she refuses to be afraid of him), but it’s an old argument, and he cuts her off before she can even get started. “Promise me, Doll. Please.” He’s pleading with her, she realizes. As much as she hates it, the only thing she can do is agree.

“I will, but only if you promise to come back in one piece.” She begs her mind to memorize that smile, every single detail of it, just in case this is their last goodbye.

“It’s a deal.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

He’s drained, utterly and completely. That’s not a way Bucky is used to feeling, but after the past few days and all they’ve held (not to mention going in and out of being the Winter Soldier, never knowing who he’s hurt this time), he has to admit that he’s beat, even if it’s just to himself.

It’s all a blur: captured, activated, back to normal, battle, another battle, and now on a hellicarrier, waiting to go to a small African country he’d never heard of a week ago. If he examines each event closely, he can remember it in full, but why in the hell would he want to do that, especially after the encounter with Stark?

The one bright spot in the maze is that he knows she’s safe, holed up in what used to be a SHIELD safe house (he balked at the idea, as did she, but Steve assured them both that it was abandoned, completely safe), waiting for the all-clear to return to Romania. He’d wondered, with everyone except Steve and himself locked up who would tell her it’s safe to leave, but when Natasha helped them escape, she looked him dead in the eyes and informed him, “I’ll look after her, too.”. He still wonders how she knew where Steve chose as a location, but his best friend told him it’s best not to question how the spy gets her information.

The doors open once again, but he doesn’t look up.

“You look a little worse for wear.”

Even with the super serum, it’s a wonder he doesn’t get whiplash, turning his head towards the familiar voice.

“I thought I told you to come back in one piece.”

No, he’s not kidding himself. His senses aren’t fooling him. It’s her. She’s here.

“I did.” She chuckles as she settles into the seat next to him. “More or less.”

Completely ignoring the fact that he’s filthy, covered in at least ten different kinds of muck, she takes his hand in hers. He allows himself the comfort of having her next to him, enjoying the warmth, not just of her body but her presence, before asking,

“Doll, what are you doing here?”

“What I’m usually doing.” She stretches out her legs in front of her as far as they’ll go, then toes off her shoes. “Following you around like a lost puppy.” No, that’s definitely him. Can’t bring himself to stay away even though she’d be safer if he left and never came back. Once upon a time, he fooled himself into believing that so long as he stayed hidden, nobody said those key words, he wouldn’t hurt her. She’d be safer with him to protect her (she can defend herself, sure, but there’s far nastier things out there than just common criminals) than on her own, and besides, she wants him to stay. Now he knows the truth: it doesn’t matter that the Winter Soldier never laid a finger on her. He’s hurt her just from being who he is, sure as he left bruises in the shape of his fingerprints the first night they ever spent together doing something more than sleeping. Well, that ends now. He has to be strong, for her sake.

“I’m not going back to Romania.”

“I know.” She nods. “We’re going to Wakanda.” Here comes the hard part. He can do it. He has to.

“Not “we”. Just me.” It takes a moment, but recognition dawns on her face.

“Are you telling me to leave?”

She says it calmly, but he can tell that inside, she’s already starting to crumble. He should say yes. He’s absolutely telling her to leave. He loves her, god, does he ever, and you don’t hurt the people you love. You protect them, even if that means keeping them away from you. But, even as he prepares to tell her that, he knows the truth.

“Would it do any good if I did?”

“If it was because you truly didn’t want me around, then yes. If it was some self-sacrificing bullshit, then no.”

And there’s the crux of it. He can never tell her to go and truly mean it, just as he could never leave her side without her telling him she wants him gone. He’s simply not that strong, not that noble. Still, he has to try.

“You saw what I did.”

“Yeah, I did.” He feels her sag against his shoulder. “And my opinion hasn’t changed. I’m not afraid of you, Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier? Okay, he’s a scary guy, and I’ll be cautious around him, but I trust you.” Her fingers tighten around his. “I love you. That stays the same.”

He swallows hard, trying to get control of himself. There will be a time to put down all his armor, show her how damn tired he is, how if he’s being honest with himself, he just wants to let her take care of him, but not while they’re having this conversation.

“I’m going on ice as soon as we reach Wakanda.”

“Figured as much. I’ll be standing by, pestering them to make sure they do a good job getting what Hydra put in your head back out again.” She tugs gently at his hair. “For now, just relax. It’s only the two of us here. You’ve had a hard couple of days, so just rest.”

He starts to protest that he’s fine, she’s the one who should be decompressing, but then her fingers start working through the hair at his scalp. “You’re safe, Buck. It’s all going to work out.”

“Did you have a vision?” The last thing he sees as he closes his eyes and lets his head fall into her lap is her smile.

“No. Some things you don’t need to see the future to know.”

[alien-tech]

i rewatched frozen 2 the other day so it’s time to talk about just how badly anna is treated in the movies

before this i would like to clarify i'm not anti-elsa at all, but disney really did a number on anna

obvious frozen 1 and 2 spoilers ahead

first of all, let’s start with the fact that both movies are centered around elsa's growth. yes, anna is in the movies as well but ultimately when you consider the plotlines a lot of it place elsa at the center of attention. elsa ran away and is struggling so anna needs to go after her as well as fix the winter issue that elsa inadvertently started. elsa has a whole song about her struggle when essentially she ran up the north mountain (which was a whole lot easier for her than anna since she does have powers) and made a castle where she was living blissfully ignorant to what her kingdom was going through. disney tries so hard to pass this off as elsa’s struggle but considering that it takes anna most of the whole movie to even get up there in the first place, i’d say elsa overnight trip wasn’t really much of a struggle right?

and on that note, elsa and anna are supposed to be the main characters right? they're both supposed to be the main characters, but both movies feel so much more centered on elsa and elsa's arc. it's about elsa's struggle with her power, elsa's mission to the enchanted forest, elsa's the gift, elsa's the spirit, elsa’s etc etc. again, yes anna is there too but the way disney focuses on how elsa grows and glosses over anna's growth is very underwhelming and disappointing.

everything that happens in the movies is perpetrated by elsa. elsa starts the winter and then runs away and in the end it’s anna who fixes the problem. elsa triggers the spirits and wants to run away yet again, this time to the enchanted forest and in the end she goes too far and dies and it’s anna who again, fixes the problem; which she figures out how to do on her own without any powers. disney portrays anna as a side character, focusing on elsa's arc so much more instead of anna's.

this is kind of a different point but still relevant, here's this post about elsa's oufits in the second and first movies. anna has at most 6 outfits. elsa has at least 8. it’s obvious that disney intended to market elsa as a main character and put her before anna in every way possible, even putting less effort into giving anna varied clothing design. disney will try to pass off frozen as a movie about sisters but it doesn’t even do that well. elsa undermines anna at every possibility. she lies to anna about hearing the voice, she remains distant from her throughout movie two (even though her growth in movie one was supposed to be about opening up herself again and trusting in her powers), elsa blames anna for trying to save her from the fire, she continues to promise anna that they will do it together, and then essentially tells anna she's not powerful enough to come along with her ("no anna, i have my power to protect me. you don't" to which anna replies "excuse me i climbed the north mountain, survived a frozen heart, and saved you from my ex boyfriend without any powers"). elsa still pushes anna away in movie two, even though it was a lesson she supposedly learned in movie one. anna then says "you promised me we would do this together" and elsa says agree and then turns around and COMPLETELY BREAKS THAT PROMISE RIGHT IN FRONT OF OLAF AND IMMEDIATELY AFTER SAYING THAT TO HER SISTER.

without anna, elsa died and even though anna did die (because of elsa but that was largely an accident) and everyone is talking about how strong elsa is for surviving becoming frozen but that EXACT thing happened to anna and while that was happening she managed to survive it, save her kingdom, and save her sister AND she didn't have any powers! going by this point, anna is the stronger sister.

movie one is arguably, all about elsa which would be alright if they made movie two about anna. despite the fact that in movie one, anna climbed the north mountain, tried to save elsa in order to save her kingdom only to be shoved out again, shot in the heart with magic, froze to death, and still managed to save elsa from hans and play a part in stopping the winter; the movie still ends on the note that elsa has learned to control her powers. it's about elsa learning to stop fearing herself and elsa learning to let people in right? and yet, if that movie is about elsa and elsa’s growth (even though again, anna did everything) then movie two should definitely be centered about anna right? but it's not about her and if the growth for elsa in movie one was learning to trust in herself and her sister then why in movie two does elsa continually shut anna out? it's like she made no growth at all.

anna is such a strong character and it’s so disappointing how much disney glosses over her. when anna was FIFTEEN she lost her parents. she went to their funeral ALONE and then she stood outside her sister's room, BEGGING for her to come out and comfort her. she BEGGED elsa to come out, to be there so they could grieve together and elsa didn't. nevermind the fact that elsa “couldn’t”. that’s her SISTER. even if she couldn’t open the door to hug her, she could at least talk to her through the door. but she ignored her and essentially insinuated to anna once again that she hated her and that she wasn’t worth talking to. disney focuses so much on how hard it was for elsa when she was young but to say nothing of the hardships anna faced when they were younger. she lost her BEST FRIEND and older sister in one day and she blamed HERSELF. elsa never telling her why they weren’t allowed to play with together anymore. her parents never telling her why her sister suddenly didn't want to play with her anymore. nobody telling her why her sister suddenly didn't love her anymore. i get that you could argue that it would be dangerous for anna to know, but is the better option really not telling her anything and having anna blame herself?

i get elsa had a hard time with her powers and all, but anna had it so much worse. can you imagine the sort of things that would have gone through anna’s head after losing elsa? her sister is the eldest and maybe has royal lessons (because as you know eldestborn children receive ruling lessons but youngest children do not). maybe anna figured “i’m not important enough for her anymore”

and do you think anna had her parents? the only person anna could play with was elsa because their parents are the king and queen and have royal duties. most princes and princesses are raised by nannies and nursemaids. anna didn’t have her parents and elsa was GONE and she thought it was because of her. anna's parents were the king and queen, they were busy with their duties and the rest of their time was spent with elsa trying to help her control her powers. anna had no one. no one.

back to movie two though, elsa defied anna over and over again and anna still said "i believe in you elsa, more than anyone or anything" and as SOON AS ANNA SAID THAT elsa said they would do it together and then sent her away. on a fucking ice boat. and you know what happened then? ELSA DIED WITHOUT ANNA AND ANNA YET AGAIN THOUGHT IT WAS HER FAULT. after olaf said “i think she [elsa] went too far” anna’s face fucking FALLS because she thinks “if i was there for her..” nevermind the fact that anna WANTED to go with her and was turned down because elsa implied that anna wasn’t strong enough to go with her. 

as said by their grandfather "magic makes people feel too powerful, too entitled" now in the case of the northuldra, they weren’t entitled nor did the magic make them feel such. but with elsa? she definitely has an entitled attitude that is only exemplified as the movie goes on. the parents clearly favored elsa so much and i would say elsa's entitlement comes about 40% from her parents treatment

the movies focus so much on elsa and what elsa is doing, it's not fair to anna. nevermind that anna is literally the hero of the first movie AND of the second movie. elsa was dead and anna knew that, as well as the fact that anna just lost her childhood best friend and still she got up climbed out of that mountain, woke the giants, destroyed the bridge, and ALL OF THAT while ALONE AND AGAIN WITH NO POWERS but oh my god, elsa is the HERO because she stopped the flood. again, i would like to clarify i'm not anti-elsa i'm just anti-anna underappreciation.

that was most of it for my rant but @mamadragon404 brought up a good point when we were talking about this yesterday. does anyone bring into question the fact that anna is supposed to be queen with no training? any child born after the first are never trained to rule. only firstborns receive ruling lessons and secondborns are supposed to be married off for political gain. this actually explains so much about why anna tries to find a true love at the party, and attaches onto hans so quickly because at home in arendelle, she has no one. her parents are gone, elsa has continually shut her out again and again, and her whole duty as a princess is to marry off for a union. she thinks that's what she's supposed to do and it's the only thing she can do because she feels so alone at home there's nothing there for her in arendelle, so her best hope at happiness is to run off with a prince, hopefully the man of her dreams because with a duty like “marrying off” the best thing she can hope for is that she’s stuck with someone who loves her. she's so quick to trust hans because she has to convince herself it's what she wants, she has to because it's supposed to be her duty and at least it's not her parents choosing which country's prince she has to marry she's trying to choose for herself, because subconsciously she knows she doesn't actually really have a choice.

so yeah the movies should've been nicer to anna and i am sorry but they did not do justice to anna at all, she deserved so much fucking more appreciation than she was given.

[were-all-idjits-here]

Still Alive, Part I: What About Dean?

Request from @totallyluciferr​ : the reader lives in a universe where Supernatural is fiction and they’re a big fan of SPN, so the reader is re-watching the episode where Dean and Castiel gets zapped to Purgatory, they suddenly get zapped to Sam and Amelia’s house. Then the reader tries to tell Sam that Dean is trapped in Purgatory and needs help. The reader ends up meeting and saving Dean. 

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: angst, cursing

A/N: this was meant to be a one-shot, but I have no self control and it got away from me and became super long. In an attempt to not make this 5000 miles long or make the end super rushed, I’ll be posting this in three parts. Hoping to have all three up by the 27th. @totallyluciferr​ thank you so much for being patient while I took forever to write this. Some mental health issues have made writing hard, but I want to make sure I take the time to get this done well the first time.

~~Read here on AO3~~

You noticed how heavy your head felt before you even opened your eyes. A hard, cold surface laid beneath you and you frowned. The last thing you remember was laying on the couch in your shitty apartment, trying to drown out your screaming neighbors on one side and the blaring music on the other with your favorite show, Supernatural. It had partially been working, even if you were annoyed at having to turn subtitles on to be able to understand some of what they were saying. You had almost nodded off right when Dean and Cas got zapped to Purgatory in the season 7 finale when there had been a bright white light. Had you fallen to the floor maybe? But what had the light been?

You groaned and slowly sat up, bringing a hand up to your head. Your forehead bumped something cold and you slowly opened your eyes, backing up a bit. You were suddenly very awake as you realized there was a gun pointed at you. You were even more awake when you followed the hand holding it up to the face and realized you were sprawled out on a nicely manicured lawn in front of Sam Winchester.

The two of you stared at each other for a moment before you broke the silence with a loud, “What the fuck!”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking,” Sam growled, still pointing his gun at you. “Who the hell are you and what do you want?”

You blinked, jumping as you heard the safety click off. “Take it easy. I have no clue how I got here. I was on my couch one minute and now I’m here and this can’t possibly be real and holy shit, I must’ve had too much to drink and oh my god you’re Sam fucking Winchester, I thought this was just a TV show, what the fuck is going on—”

“Okay, easy, easy!” Sam lowered his gun, but still kept it tightly in his hand. He frowned before holding out a hand to help you up.

You hesitantly took it and let him pull you to your feet. Sam clicked the safety back on the gun and tucked it into the waistband of his pants. He roughly grabbed your wrist and yanked you across the backyard, up the steps of the back porch and through a back door into a dimly lit kitchen. You recognized the house as Amelia’s from the show and realized you must be somewhere either in or close to the season 8 premiere. In or close to the season 8 premiere—holy hell, had you seriously somehow been Blue scadooed into the TV? That couldn’t be possible, no fucking way—

“Hey, hey, hey—breathe!” Sam suddenly knelt in front of you from where he’d been rummaging through the cupboards. You suddenly realized the faint wheezing sound you’d been hearing was coming from you and it felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest. You grabbed the table for support, your palm coming down flat on top of a fork. The prongs stung your hand, confirming this was real. You wouldn’t be able to feel pain in a dream, right?

A brown paper bag was suddenly thrust in front of you and you panted into it gratefully. After a few minutes, you could feel your pulse and breathing slow.

“That’s it, nice and slow,” Sam said, taking a deep breath in and slowly blowing it out. You mimicked him for several minutes until you felt coherent enough to set the bag down on the counter. “Hold this,” Sam said quietly, gently putting the silver fork into your hand. When nothing happened, he handed you a glass of water next. “Drink this.” Again, nothing happened and Sam sat down across from you, seeming satisfied.

You let a deep breath out slowly before asking, “How the hell is this real?”

Sam shook his head. It took all your restraint not to laugh at the famous wifi-shaped wrinkles that formed above his brow. “I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair, then down his face. “What did you mean you thought this was just a TV show? And how do you know my name?”

“It’s gonna sound insane.”

“I specialize in insane. Try me.”

You swallowed hard, taking another drink of water. “So, um…I came from this…world, I guess, where your and Dean’s lives are a TV show and you’re fictional characters. I was actually on the episode that shows the events that happened probably…six-ish months ago, fell asleep, saw a bright white light and then woke up in your backyard.”

Sam nodded. “Dean and I got zapped to some sort of universe forever ago where our lives were a TV show. We kept getting mistaken for the actors.”

“Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki?”

“Yeah, that sounds about right. Why would you wanna watch our lives anyway? It’s just a bunch of darkness and death and despair.” His face seemed to sink at the last sentence and you noticed his dark circles and sunken cheeks. You glanced at the clock you noticed behind him to see it read 3:30am. So he wasn’t sleeping. It made sense after everything he’d been through.

“Well, I mean…at first, it was kind of cathartic, watching the good guys win, ya know? Then I just got so attached to you and Dean as characters—er, people, I guess, that I just kept watching. I just wanted to root for you and watch you win.”

Sam smiled sadly. “Well, thanks, I guess. Haven’t been a lot of wins lately.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, “I’m sorry. Thanks for saving the world and stuff.”

Sam gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, avoiding your gaze as he picked some stray paint off the edge of the kitchen table. “So…what did you mean when you said you were on the episode about events six months or so ago? What happened?”

You hesitated, realizing how fragile of a state he was still in. “You sure you wanna know?”

His dark circles seemed even more prominent now. “When we…lost Dean?”

“Yeah,” you barely whispered.

Sam nodded, biting his lip and looking at his lap, renewing his efforts to pick at the table. The two of you sat in awkward silence for several minutes.

“I’m sorry you had to watch that,” you finally murmured.

“Yeah, me too.” He paused. “I’ve seen my brother die before, but it always felt like I could bring him back, ya know? This time…there isn’t even a body left to bring back. He’s really gone for good this time.” He sniffled. “But, I’ll figure out how to get you home, don’t worry—”

“Dean’s not dead,” you blurted.

Sam’s head shot up and he stared at you bug-eyed. “What?”

“He’s not dead. When monsters die, they go to Purgatory, which is where Dick went. That’s where Dean and Cas are. They’re still alive.”

Sam squinted suspiciously. “Says who? The show?”

You nodded. What followed was a long string of questioning from Sam about events from the show, no doubt trying to find out how accurate it was to his real life—which still felt insane to say; you still weren’t completely convinced one of your neighbors’ drug fumes hadn’t floated through your vents and triggered some sort of acid dream—and you answered them to the best of your ability.

By the time 45 minutes had flown by full of questions, you sighed. “Look, Sam, you said you’d been to my universe, so you know it’s a real place. I passed all your tests, so I’m not a monster that’s trying to drag you out of your apple pie life. How long has it been since Dean and Cas disappeared?”

“Six months,” Sam answered, his face still skeptic.

“Okay, so Dean was trapped in Purgatory for a year in the show. There’s a portal in Purgatory that lets humans escape, since they’re not supposed to be there. I don’t know how the hell we would do it, but if we can find where he emerges from Purgatory and somehow get a message to him, we can get him out.”

Sam opened his mouth to reply when a woman’s voice behind you suddenly said, “Sam? What’s going on?”

You spun around to see a sleepy Amelia standing in her PJs, looking at you blearily with wary dark eyes.

Sam glanced at you, then smoothly said, “She was on her way home from a friend’s sleepover and got lost. She stopped here to ask for help. I know her address and I’m gonna drive her home.”

Amelia frowned. “You were on your way home from a friend’s sleepover at almost five in the morning?”

“Things were getting a little too rowdy for me.” You hoped you looked and sounded convincing. “They’re big partiers and I guess I didn’t realize how big till the drugs came out and…” You did your best to look sheepish and shrugged. “I noped out of there.”

“Oh, yikes,” Amelia said. She looked at Sam. “You’ll be back soon?”

“Yeah,” he answered, grabbing a familiar set of car keys off the counter behind him. He stood and gave her a parting kiss. “Go back to bed. I’ll join you soon.” He motioned for you to follow as Amelia trudged back up the steps to the bedroom.

You stood in awe for a moment as Sam led you to the garage. The Impala. Baby. You gently reached out and touched the immaculate black paint, feeling a strange sense of calm as you looked over the car. Sam watched you from the driver’s side. “Big part of the show, I take it?”

“It’s practically its own character,” you replied. “If something happened to Baby, I’d probably cry.”

Sam chuckled as he climbed in. “Dean would’ve loved you.”

You climbed in after him, making sure to take care with how you shut the door. You sighed as you settled down on the leather seat. This felt good. This felt like home. “Would, Sam. He’s still alive.”

Sam glanced at you warily before opening the garage door and firing up the engine. He didn’t reply as you backed out of the driveway and sped down the road. “There’s a motel about five miles away. I’ll get you a room for a couple days while I figure out how to get you home. Don’t worry about the bill.”

“I don’t want to go home, Sam, I want to find Dean.”

“Listen, this isn’t a life you should want just because some TV show romanticizes hunting. Hunting isn’t some noble, epic good versus evil battle. It’s brutal and all it has is death and darkness and pain. You lose people all the time, there’s risk of you dying all the time, you see things you can never unsee—”

“Yes, I know, I do watch the show. I’m not saying the life is like that, I’m saying you’re doing something. You’re saving people and through that, proving your worth. Plus it’s not like I don’t have my own trauma, you know. My life home is shit. I don’t even have anyone or anything, a shit apartment, a shit job—”

“I’m not saying you don’t have your own trauma or that it isn’t as valid. But you seriously think this is better? If it weren’t for Amelia, I wouldn’t have anyone right now either.”

“But Dean’s alive, Sam! We can save him!”

“Just stop talking about it, okay?”

“Why won’t you believe me? I aced your quiz back in the kitchen.”

“I just don’t know if I believe you. That’s a show, it’s Hollywoodized! This is real life!”

“Do you really not believe or do you just not want to believe me?” Sam didn’t reply, but you could see how white his knuckles were as they gripped the wheel. You had always been frustrated with the fact that Sam didn’t look for Dean in the show, but had always held a level of sympathy for him. That level was quickly evaporating. If it was Dean you were talking to, he probably would’ve taken any chance—no matter how small—that his brother was alive and done something with it. You saw the motel fast approaching out the window and knew you were quickly losing your chance. “How many times as Kevin called you, hm? Kevin needs help, I have proof that your brother’s alive and we can save him and you’re seriously just gonna sit here on your ass—”

The Impala’s tires screeched as Sam made a hard right into the motel parking lot, barely putting the car in park before yanking the keys out of the ignition. “Stay here,” he growled before slamming the door closed behind him and stomping into the lobby.

You fumed in your seat, pulling out your phone to find that you did have signal. You quickly opened the Notes app and jotted down the place where you remembered Dean emerges from Purgatory in the show before you forgot. Since someone wasn’t interested in helping you, maybe you would just have to make a visit yourself. But he wouldn’t escape for another six months. How the hell were you going to speed that time frame up? Witchcraft, maybe? But you didn’t know anything about hunting. If you tried to contact a witch, you would end up dead for sure.

Just as you were googling where the nearest library was, a knock on your car window made you jump. Sam stood there, still fuming and holding two keys in his hand. You rolled your eyes and got out, following him into room 205 on the second floor. He slammed the door behind you, pointing a long finger at you. “You stay in this room until I can figure out a way to get you home—and you are going home. Don’t get any funny ideas.”

“So you’re trapping me here? Should I assume both of those keys are for you then?”

He handed over a key, along with a credit card to your surprise. “This is for clothes and food. I don’t know how long it’ll take me to get you home.” He handed you his phone next. “Put in your number and name.”

You begrudgingly complied and handed him your phone to do the same.

“Stay,” Sam said again as he made his way towards the door. “You’ll thank me later.”

“What about Dean?”

Sam sighed, pausing in the doorway. “We’ll see. But there’s no way he’s still alive.”

“I’m telling you, there is.”

You saw Sam’s shoulders heave for a brief moment. “I’ll look into it.” With that, he slammed the door behind him and you heard the click of the lock, completing your cage.

[thewatsonbeekeepers]

Chapter 10 – Oh No Love, You’re Not Alone [TLD 2/2]

[A line from Rock’n’Roll Suicide, which titles the previous chapter – listen here! X Possibly Bowie’s best song.]

This chapter aims to break down the infamous hug scene step by step – I couldn’t handle this scene for a long time, Mary and Irene seriously breaking with the otherwise reasonably coherent series, but I have a reading. This reading is complicated in that it relies – like this whole meta series – on every character in the scene being a part of Sherlock. This is obviously sad because it means that our boys don’t come together in one of the only moments of physical affection they’ve been allowed in the last ten years, but bear with it. There are three important symbols we need to know going into this scene: our three main characters. The grounding of this meta series is that, within the EMP, Sherlock is our eyes, the part of his brain that is consciously navigating the subconscious and trying to make sense of it. John represents his heart, normally in antithesis with Mycroft as the brain, but in TLD really taking centre stage himself. To get a handle on Mary, I refer you back to my TST metas [XX]; TLDR, at the end of TST Sherlock stages Mary’s assassination attempt on himself via Norbury, only to replace himself with Mary at the last second because he cannot cope with the implication that it is the loss of him that has made John suicidal. To be colloquial, then, Mary is comphet – which is essentially her function in every Sherlock Holmes adaptation anyway, but you know. Thinking about Mary in terms of comphet is useful particularly in terms of her obsession with Sherlock wearing the hat which dogs the end of this episode, and which for many spoiled this scene the first time around (i.e. me). Wearing the hat is a euphemism in tjlc for masking one’s sexuality, drawing on the Victorian phrase ‘a hat of someone else’s choosing�� X – Sherlock’s throwing off of the hat was so momentous in TAB that many of us were reluctant to see it brought up again. However, this all makes sense.

Before we take this scene from the top, I feel the need to say that someone has brought me tea in a glass, by pure coincidence. I feel this is a good omen.

The scene opens talking about Eurus!Faith, and one of the first possibilities touted is that Sherlock made up a dream woman who gave him all the info he needed. Not subtle – although Eurus has other purposes in the narrative which become very important, she does also kick the narrative along quite nicely here. However, as mentioned in the previous chapter, she’s not the only character who does – think of the random comments that allow Sherlock to piece together ‘everyone’, despite having nothing to do with the case. So what our boys are saying about Eurus!Faith, if we think about it in the context of the episode, instead of just her, points to the artificiality that is casting such a massive shadow right now. John’s ‘magic dream woman’ comment comes straight after Sherlock talking about being able to predict anything – undermining the entire basis of the episode as magic and dreamlike, so we know where we stand. Sherlock is only experiencing all of this semi-lucidly – kind of like TAB – so it’s up to his heart to try to get him to twig it I suppose.

Sherlock then suggests that Eurus!Faith was a hallucination brought on by drugs, in keeping with the theme of the episode, but also with our own themes. Drugs are used to cover up one’s true sexuality, and Eurus up until this point has only been used in her various disguises to veil Sherlock’s desires as heterosexual, so in that sense she is linked to the mirage that drugs can cause. Heart!John’s response is to keep Sherlock off the ‘sweeties’, which is a good sign for us – the more we fixate on the sober region of Sherlock’s brain, the more we’re in the place where he can’t hide from who he is, and his heart is pushing him there.

It seems that comphet!Mary is the one pushing Sherlock to talk to his heart here, which might raise questions, but as we’ll see one of the first things she tells heart!John to do is to ‘make him wear the hat’ – everything she says is fitting in with the paradigm of Sherlock Holmes that the heart cannot cope with and needs to leave behind. Mary also suggests that Sherlock should wear the hat to her as a tribute, because she’s dead. I like to read this as the weird sense that we should be respectful of old classics, as though queering them is somehow disrespectful – this gets thrown up a lot in relation to Sherlock Holmes. One time it really got thrown up though was in the making of TPLoSH – the reason it’s not more explicit is because the Conan Doyle estate didn’t want Wilder to damage ACD’s legacy. The necessity for comphet of the Victorian era is dead and gone, but we still consistently pay tribute to it in our culture.

Sherlock keeps mentioning Culverton’s confessions, which we’ve talked about in the last chapter – but in this world of mirrors, he’s unable to map them onto himself perfectly yet. It’s the same thing as Eurus heterosexualising his interactions – we’re working in a world of mirrors and proxies, because the reality of queerness is so off limits in his mind.

Then we get the text alert. Irene Adler has long been established within the mind palace as a symbol of Sherlock’s sexual desire. So, at the end of this, as Sherlock is about to neglect his heart and let it descend out of Baker Street, we get this sudden cry of sexuality – and the heart turns back. Comphet!Mary, through the hat linked to conventional storytelling metatextually propelling Sherlock’s comphet well into the 21st century, immediately jumps to the conclusion that Sherlock loves Irene Adler. There are several reasons why this is absolutely wrong. Firstly, we are dealing entirely in symbolic people here, so why Irene would suddenly be a real person instead of a metaphor is tonally dubious. Secondly, Irene is a long established metaphor for sexuality anyway. But thirdly, and most importantly – this scene, which revolves around the Irene Adler text alert, is the beating heart of the episode and arguably the entire series. For Irene Adler to be referenced once more in the series, in a minor line, suggests that she is not the actual focus. It’s about what’s going on within Sherlock.

[A side note: Mary’s exposition in this scene makes me cringe – I hope I’m not the only one? But if you will set up a complex network of metaphors and then leave several years between series, maybe you need that.]

John then deduces that it’s Sherlock’s birthday – again, reasonably unbelievable that he wouldn’t know this, given that Mummy and Daddy Holmes would definitely have made a big deal of it. It’s difficult to know for sure what the birthday symbolises, but John saying he has always wanted to know it might make us remember Sherlock actually seeking out John’s birth certificate to find the name Hamish on it. This meta [X] explains why this represents hiding a part of ourselves that is essential – i.e., from birth – which would fit the concept of the birthday. However, this may be tenuous.

Heart!John’s outburst at the discovery of Sherlock’s sexual desire – not necessarily how it is directed, but that it exists – is basically: well, what do you do about it? Why don’t I know about this? It is incredible that Sherlock has managed to compartmentalise this from his heart for so long, but that’s the pro of having an incredibly intricate mind palace I suppose. The Harvester in High Wycombe situation is sex without strings attached – I think the veiled suggestion here is masturbation, because Sherlock has refused the heart any involvement in it, but Sherlock denies the suggestion. The level at which heart!John is losing it is desperate, and the idea that ‘High Wycombe is better than you are currently equipped to understand’ suggests an affection starvation of epic proportions. I had problems with John’s claim that romantic entanglement would complete Sherlock as a human being (Sherlock being ace is a common reading, often touted by the writers themselves, and whilst I don’t subscribe to the theory such a statement plays into a pretty harmful narrative about ace people). The line is still dubious when said by heart!John because of the wider narrative it plays into, but spoken by Sherlock’s heart to himself does suggest that Sherlock’s denial of his sexuality has been crippling him.

The idea that comphet!Mary sent heart!John back to Sherlock is a difficult one – there are two warring versions of Sherlock’s heart here, and comphet!Mary’s idea of heterosexuality (posh boy and dominatrix, even whilst metatextually acknowledging that it’s a boring cliché) does require the unity of Sherlock and his heart, just in a way that isn’t possible. However, another possible reading about letting Sherlock die without comphet!Mary might take us back to TST – the hypothesis assassination when comphet!Mary took the bullet for Sherlock at the last second admittedly slowed down Sherlock’s analytical processes, but it’s quite possible that his heart wasn’t ready for it, that the heart wouldn’t have let him realise it and Sherlock would actually have died in the mind palace. His heart was too afraid to show up – which, true or not, is echoed in the idea that heart!John wasn’t there when Sherlock/Mary were shot by Norbury, but attending to heteronormative domesticity (sorry Rosie). It’s also devastating that the heart wants to be the Sherlock Holmes of the stories still – and we’re breaking through, but it’s TFP which will finally push through that, not this scene.

Heart!John’s admission of cheating here is vital. Eurus as mirror for John has long been discussed, and as we’ve seen in a previous chapter (X) she takes on a female form to give Sherlock’s desires an acceptable outlet – but here we have an acknowledgement from heart!John that he betrayed comphet!Mary in his texting of Eurus. The texting is made to parallel Sherlock’s own engagement with his sexuality in terms of Irene – he’s later revealed to have texted her too. Whether that just suggests merely thoughts or masturbation (or something else?) I don’t know, but the parallel suggests that such engagement with his sexuality is the same as heart!John’s covert engagement with gay trauma Eurus – in other word, both romantic and sexual illicit desires have been acknowledged, and have existed simultaneously though compartmentalised. We can see the paralleling of heart!John’s romantic desires with Sherlock’s sexual desires in moments like when heart!John admits that he still wants more – the camera focuses on Sherlock, who looks at heart!John like a moment of realisation (possibly because he’s recognising the form his heart has taken – that’s the headcanon).

But this is not a happy scene. Heart!John declares that he has never been capable of comphet, but that he wants it, and comphet!Mary tells him to get the hell on with it – taking special emphasis to call him John Watson. There’s no Hamish here, which in a conversation begun on birthdays might make us worry, but crucially calling him John Watson rather than John is a link back to the original stories, when we know that using just first names is a big indicator of the modernity (read queerness) of the adaptation, not least in the EMP (see TAB). Comphet!Mary’s heterosexual compulsion is thus still going strong based on the historical stories. And what’s sad here is that the impulses are acknowledged! Sherlock not only acknowledges his sexual desire but even that he acts on it (the texts), and heart!John acknowledges his romantic attraction, and where they had been compartmentalised the hug as a moment of unity tells us that Sherlock has joined those dots, acknowledges his existence as a romantic and sexual being. And then – he puts the hat on, he still needs a high of some description to cope with his birthday. I believe that Sherlock’s acknowledgement of Mary’s ghost at the end, previously visible only to John, is a new recognition of the compulsory heterosexuality that his heart has been grappling with – but he puts on that hat in order to capitulate to it. (Never fear, the hat is coming off later).

The hat wearing comes in a separate scene, in terms of framing, to the official hug scene, although logically they must happen within 20 minutes of each other in the same room. [I am resisting the urge to make a crack joke about what happened in the interim. I’m sure there’s something on AO3 about it.] It’s a horrible addendum, because heart!John has just confessed his biggest secret, and Sherlock acknowledges it – but then immediately downplays it. Just texting. In superficial terms, this downplaying is personally not what I would want from a friend – in metaphorical terms, it’s deadly. It’s a subtle undermining of the entire previous scene. We can see that the wall hasn’t been broken through, that he’s still chickened at the last second (much like at the end of TST) in other ways – he still has the appearance of drugged Sherlock, in particular the facial hair, which is used to reference bearding typically in the show. I also maintain – though others may take issue with this – that Cumberbatch’s gait changes when he plays a high Sherlock, and although ostensibly not high here that slightly clumsy gait remains the same. It is not a good vibe. And then, the final shot of this scene isn’t one of acceptance or closure. After Sherlock acknowledges Mary’s presence, the look on Martin Freeman’s face is one of quiet but terrible sadness, as well as anxiety.

A final thought before I leave this scene, having discussed what happens at the end of TLD in a different chapter – it’s worth noting that Sherlock has a mug of an unspecified hot drink throughout this scene, but it’s left ambiguous whether it’s coffee or tea. (Yes, it could be something else, but given the heavy focus on coffee and tea earlier in the episode, along with the pre-established drinks code, we can assume.) This ambiguity, I think, is deliberate – it allows Sherlock to acknowledge desire but still mask it through vagueness and ambiguity. It’s a way of lying to himself – and goodness knows we’re all capable of that, and can probably see how such a fudge might apply to a mental analysis of such a situation. I’d love to hear others’ thoughts on this scene though – do let me know! Until next time.

[best-enemies]

I have to write an actual review on Gallifrey TW4 for the podcast I’m in but I have a writer’s block, so here are some of my thoughts on the box because I need to yell about it somewhere and my friends are pissed that I keep yelling on twitter. Spoilers ahead!

Don’t expect anything coherent to come out of this post I’m just going to throw stuff in this post and if you get it you get it lol. It’s not like I have fully recovered from the blow anyway... 

Deception is a great introdution to the box and probably one of the best Gallifrey audios. I hate it when the OT4 gets separated (and that it happens all the time!), and in this case it happens between Narvin and Leela. However, it’s always great to see Leela working on her own and interacting with other people. When she tried to save those people from the resistance, the way she dealt with the situation even when she felt lost because she couldn’t trust her senses - a tool Leela values a lot as a warrior and a hunter - was absolutely incredible and it reminded me (not that I could ever forget that) of how much I love and admire her. 

Listening to them being inside the distortion field felt like a really bad trip 

All I could think throughout the box and not just Deception is that Leela had a crush on Eris and man I can’t blame her at all not only he was a great guy he’s really good looking and I got a crush on him too akshdashdkjaks

I don’t think I say this enough, but I really like Livia. She’s not evil, she just makes a lot of bad choices and she has this problem of being too much on the fence, which is not the characteristic of a true leader. She was never one. But still, even if I don’t remember the content of the earlier audios she’s in I’ve always liked her. And I liked that she finally chose a side in the end. I mean, she did when she helped the resistance, and that was a good beginning.

 Also can I interest you with my headcanon that she was Romana’s girlfriend at the Academy and they broke up? Lol Anyways, when she heard that Romana had “died” she was shocked and later on complimented her as a person and I kind of wish we saw more of them on good terms

Now, on Dissolution: I love Narvin. That’s pretty much it lol. Before starting Gallifrey my friend gave me a spoiler which was basically, “you’re gonna love Narvin”. Well, at first I really liked his voice - it was funny and cute and voices are an important thing to me. Of course, even if he seemed funny to me, unfortunately he was a total xenophobic asshole. He had convictions, he had layers which made him very interesting, but still, an asshole. Which makes me really proud to see how far he has come, how much he’s grown. When he joined Romana’s side I soon realized that my friend was right; Narvin had one of the best redemption arcs I’ve ever seen. He went from Romana’s political rival, if I could put it that way, to one of her most trusted allies and best friends. And he found out that he could still fight for and protect his home, but using the right tools, doing it the right way. Dissolution showed that contrast between the old Narvin and what he wanted and the new Narvin, and honestly? I could almost call this episode a moment of relief amongst the chaos. Narvin has become one of my favorite characters in the Whoniverse and one of my all time favorites as well.

Alright... now we get to Beyond *deep breaths*. So let’s start from the beginning, shall we? I spent months since listening to Unity living in a total hell not knowing if Romana was alive or not. I couldn’t believe that that was her ending, that she wouldn’t show up again for their last hurrah, and that my favorite companion ever was gone forever. But then, BF announced the cover, and the description for the episodes, and her name came up, and I could finally breath. My friend and I started theorizing that maybe Braxiatel had dematerialized the TARDIS around her and saved her in the last second - which is kind of what happened, I mean, the description said he wasn’t ready to give up on her! So they go to that place called Beyond, and shit happens. Those ravenous bitches were there eating people and shit. They even ate Narvin - I almost started crying in the middle of the bus, telling myself he wasn’t our Narvin, but he was a Narvin and it still hurt. I wanted to fight those ravenous myself. And not just that, Romana went through hell watching Leela die in front of her, and her reaction was really heartbreaking. 

Aaand that kind of brings me to a point here, something that bothered me. Romana and Brax, as always, spent the audio bickering a little, but they had their moments as well. Like when Brax says that it’s good to see her smile again, when he says (sorry I don’t remember it word by word) something like, she couldn’t die and that she’s supposed to be the best of the Time Lords, when she calls him her friend, and when she asks with a soft voice if he’s coming back to Gallifrey. And it was sweet. Like, they have a lot of issues, but they also have good feelings towards each other. Despite everything they care about each other, and it shows. Which is why I got really confused about Romana’s reaction when Brax was eaten by the ravenous. I remember I even thought she wasn’t around when it happened, that he had left and was somewhere else (I have a little difficulty paying attention), but then my friend said she was. So I was like... wait, she saw her friend, whom she’s known for most of her life (and more than she can even remember) die in a truly horrible way and didn’t even react to that? I’m not blaming Romana, I think this is really out of character for her. She may have difficulty expressing her feelings but she would never, ever react so coldly to the death of a friend. 

Now, on Brax’s death... I was really devastated. At first, as always I got confused and thought the older Brax was an older version of him, somehow. Even if he died, I was like, this is confusing, but it’s Brax? So I was weary, but still, I thought “well at least he’s safe now, on another universe in the Beyond”. But then my friend said “no, that’s an alternative Brax, the one we know is dead”. And that’s when I felt my stomach drop. IT HURT SO BAD. I’ll be honest and say I don’t know everything about Brax, or about the depth of his character, I’m still very early on the Benny audios and only have listened to him on Gally and a few audios here and there. People who have more knowledge on him say that the way he was written wasn’t really accurate, and that can be true, but I won’t get into that because I don’t know for myself. Still, Brax is one of the best and most interesting characters I’ve ever known. I loved him from the beginning. I got mad at him so many times during the series, felt as betrayed as Romana did, heard about a lot of dark shit he’s done, but still I could never hate him. I got a little bit too attached to him, which is why his death felt absurd and unnecessarily cruel. I don’t think for a moment that Brax deserved that, as I said I don’t know everything about him but something in my heart tells me that things could’ve gone another way. I knew he could die in the finale but not like this. And it’s a bit hard to put into words how much I hate the ending he got and how much I’ll miss him. I just hope he comes back, I mean, he always does, BF writers need to figure something out I don’t even care lol

I had to edit the post because my dumb ass forgot about one of my favorite and at the same time one of the most bittersweet moments of Beyond: Brax asking about the Doctor and saying leaving Gallifrey was a “family thing”. I love them and there isn’t enough stuff out there from the Lungbarrow siblings for me. He talks so fondly of the Doctor and now all I think about is that he never mentioned him in the series but thought of him on the last hours of his life... brb I’m gonna go cry in the bathroom

Oh god. Okay, Homecoming. I’ll start on a light note and say some stuff about Hot Rassilon: Richard Armitage nailed it. I’ve always liked him as an actor and I got thrilled when he was announced. His voice is like, the one I want to hear when I get my name called up in Heaven - or Hell, which is where I’m going - and his speeches were really powerful. Still, I wish they could’ve given him more to do. Of course, I understand that this is where they wanted to go with him - Hot Rassilon going batshit crazy and calling himself a god and coming up with some stupid fanfiction about the Time Lords becoming gods of everything, yada yada. I loved his interactions with the Dalek Emperor, the first thing I thought (besides the fact that it was really funny) was that it showed two despots with a god complex playing chess with the universe and discarding their people as garbage, fighting for their own personal power and not for the collective. Of course, I don’t expect the Daleks to care about each other - they want to spread throughout the galaxies and gain absolute power, not bring social well-being to their own. But that should apply to the Time Lord Society, and we see that Hot Rassilon doens’t give a flying fuck about that. 

I feel like I should reinforce the fact that I actually hate Rassilon. I call him hot but I hate him. I can do both

Once again, I need to point out the emotional moments between the galligang. It all felt so off. As someone pointed out here (sorry, I saw the post but don’t recall who said it now): it’s a war and there’s little time for grief, however, it’s not like they’re just grieving the loss of a group of people they’re not familiar with. The galligang are the closest thing they have to a family with each other. They’ve been through all sorts of things together, created a deep bond and have crossed the universe to find each other. And then, that Dalek ship blows up, with Narvin still in it, and... nothing. Leela even asked Romana if they could’ve done something and she says if the bracelet thingy had been working he would’ve come back already. And that’s it. At first I didn’t even understand, I was like “wait, he was really still inside the ship? And it blew up?”, because once again, I couldn’t tell from the way they reacted, I was only sure when they had that exchange. And of course, I started sobbing, because my favorite character was dead. I guess the writers wanted to focus on the war and political aspects and shit but did they forget that Gallifrey was about these three specific people and that their relationship was the core of the series, not just the politics? 

Okay, moving on. Leela and Romana once again end up on Gallifrey and run into Hot Rassilon. Did I mention I found him a bit scary? Well, I did mark me down as scared & horny.

Aaaaaand he decides to lock Romana up in a pocket universe. It surprised me, because I thought he would execute her. I find that he wanted to do that because Romana was the president who wanted to take Gallifrey into the future, to make it a prosperous and advanced society who left all their fears of the unknown and prejudices behind. And now he locked her up in the past. Get it? I don’t know, maybe that’s just me, but this was the first thing I thought. But I cannot even begin to tell you all how RELIEVED I am that she’s alive, and that there could be a possibility - even if a very tiny one - that she could escape. It’s Doctor Who, so everything is possible. EDIT: Now I’m sad because Leela will die after the end of the Time War and Romana will know about that, and all her friends are gone, and she believes the Doctor isn’t the man she once knew so she can’t rely on him, and she’s alone, and I’m FUMING because I’m still processing the whole thing and I hadn’t realized that. She’s totally alone and now I’m crying once again. I HATE IT HERE

As for Leela, I want to see what’s next for her. I haven’t gotten into the other Time War stuff yet, this is my first introduction to the actual thing, but I heard that she’s gonna fight alongside the War Doctor and might be on the War Doctor Begins boxset. But man listening to her and Romana having to depart like that broke my heart. And now I know that she’ll be protecting Gallifrey because of Romana, because Romana represents the best in Gallifrey.

*Phew* okay, that was a lot. I don’t even know if I covered everything, but I managed to make more sense than I thought I would at the beginning of this post. I don’t know man I’ve been crying for hours, went to sleep at 2am crying because of Narvin and Brax and woke up at 7am and my first thought was them, dying again... I don’t even know anymore, I guess I’ll either focus on uni and my job or curl up into a ball and cry for the rest of my life lolololol

Now I want to write a post with my theories on how the entire galligang is alive and in the epilogue in my head they have reunited and are all living together happily. Maybe it’ll be my next post.

[tw-anchor]

33. Olivia and Lydia vs. The Darach

Anchor

Stiles Stilinski x Original Character

Episode: 3x09; The Girl Who Knew Too Much

Word Count: 7,103

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, attempted murder of main character, kidnapping, sacrifices

Author’s Note: Sorry for not updating in a while. My Gram is in hospice and I haven’t been into writing. I hope you enjoy the chapter! Please make sure to reblog, like, and let me know what you think!

Masterlink in Pinned Post!

Olivia had only been to Peter's apartment downtown once before, and that was to bring over a polite welcome-home casserole that he probably didn't eat. Now, she had business to attend to. She had questions for Peter. Questions about herself and Lydia.

Only a half-hour before she made her way downtown to talk to Peter, she left Lydia in her bedroom after a couple of bad hours. Lydia and Olivia had been going out for ice cream with Allison before they went back to their house for a girls' night, when Lydia drove them to the school. Not only had Lydia been drawn to the area—just like she had the night she found the body at the pool—but Olivia, herself, had felt the same thing as Lydia.

She just didn't know if it was because she and Lydia shared abilities or because she was so connected to Lydia due to their shared DNA or relationship. Her only option for answers was to go to her father.

"All right, tell me again what happened," Peter blinked the sleep out of his eyes; it was around one in the morning when Olivia knocked on his door and woke him from a deep sleep.

"Lydia found another dead body," Olivia repeated herself. "What ever your bite did to her, it led her to the body and I felt it to. Now, I know you bit Lydia for a reason. That's why she was able to bring you back with that ritual. I want to know what she is and how it's affecting me."

Peter sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead, exhausted. "Okay."

"I want the truth," she said firmly before he could begin. "No changing the story this time."

"All right, fine," he agreed. "To start off, you have to know what your mother was. Grace was eighteen when she inherited her abilities. She was a banshee."

"A banshee," Olivia repeated in slight belief; she hadn't known that banshees were a real thing. They weren't even in the Argent bestiary.

"A wailing woman, harbinger of death, same thing. They're not really like the Irish myths. They don't attach themselves to a family line, and their echoes don't cause death, either" he informed her. "Only females can be banshees and their abilities are inherited from their bloodline."

Olivia knew what he was getting at. "So, Mom got her banshee abilities from Nana Lorraine and because Uncle Thomas is a male, he passed it down to Lydia."

Peter nodded. "Exactly. The only reason you're not a banshee is because the werewolf genes you got from me. Anchorams are rare, very rare, but there have been two recorded instances before."

"As results of a banshee and werewolf union," Olivia assumed.

"Yes. You're neither werewolf nor banshee, but instead you have some abilities of both," he crossed his arms over his chest. "Instead of predicting just anyone's death, you're connected to your pack—that's the werewolf part of you. That's why you knew Boyd was going to die."

Okay, that made sense. It also explained the screams that came out of her when her pack members were in deep trouble, like when Erica had her seizure from the kanima venom or when Mrs. Argent was trying to kill Scott. It was the banshee side of her.

"So, that's how I'm connected to Lydia."

"Banshees are drawn to each other. And you're related to Lydia, which gives you two a deeper connection. On your own, you wouldn't have felt the dead body tonight, but because you were with Lydia, you did."

"But I can hear her scream even if I'm far away," Olivia pointed out. "That night when Boyd and Cora were out of control, I could hear her scream from the public pool. I screamed with her."

"It might have been because it was the first time her powers really came through," Peter said thoughtfully. "I mean, other than the time when I got into her head."

Olivia narrowed her eyes at him, wishing he hadn't brought that up. It still infuriated her that he took advantage of Lydia when she was in such a delicate place.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Sorry," he apologized without meaning it. "Everyone is different, though, and since you're, what, the third Anchoram in history, some things we're gonna have to figure out as we go."

Olivia nodded. She realized that. It was just hard to comprehend. She hadn't even gotten to the bottom of her collection of abilities, and already she had a lot. It was a little daunting to know that she had more to learn to learn about her abilities, along with honing them.

"Okay," she said finally. "Can you tell me more about banshees?"

"Sure thing, sweet pea."

"So, I can find dead bodies," Lydia scoffed as Olivia pulled into the school's parking lot. "You know what, I can already tell that this banshee thing is gonna be a pain in the ass."

"You can do more than that, though," Olivia reminded her while parking next to Stiles' Jeep; it was empty, but she knew—thanks to his text message—that he was going to eavesdrop on his dad, who was supposed to be talking to the principal before school started. "You'll experience something like me, like the whispers or the warnings in your head."

"Yeah, and you handle those so well," Lydia grumbled.

"I know I don't, but they also help," Olivia stated firmly. "I know when my pack is in danger and it helps because most of the time, I have a warning and we can stop whatever is supposed to happen. You'll know if someone's dying, Lyds. What if you're able to stop it?"

They got out of the Olivia's new car—courtesy of the insurance company and Peter, who wanted to spoil her instead of being a good parent—and started making their way up to the school. Olivia was supposed to meet Stiles by the main office but she wanted to make sure Lydia was okay before she left her.

"I guess you have a point," Lydia conceded finally. "It's just a little..."

"Scary?" Olivia offered; Lydia nodded. "I know. But I'm gonna be there for you, Lydia, I swear. You don't have to go through any of this alone."

Lydia sighed and pulled Olivia into a tight hug. "I love you," she rubbed Olivia's back; Olivia awkwardly patted her back, making Lydia laugh. "I know, I know. No PDA."

"It's okay," Olivia assured her as they parted. "I love you too, by the way."

"I know you do," the corners of Lydia's eyes crinkled as she studied her cousin and the awkward face she was making. "You know, the fact that you can only be lovey-dovey with Stiles is really disappointing."

"That's not true," Olivia said adamantly. "I'm lovey-dovey with you, too. I just don't like showing my affection for people out in public."

"It's the Hale in you," Lydia shook her head with a smile. "All right, you're released. Go on and meet Stiles."

"Thanks," hurriedly, Olivia kissed Lydia's cheek and ran away from her, waving teasingly. "Love you!"

She knew that her show of her love would amuse Lydia. It was the only reason why she did that. She had to make an exception for her person.

Outside of the main office, Stiles hid behind a pillar. His eyes were sharp and his ears were perked as he spied on his father, one of his deputies, and the principal. Unfortunately, he couldn't hear much. In fact, the only thing he did hear was Noah excusing himself from the conversation when he locked eyes with Stiles.

"Hey!" Stiles frantically pulled his backpack up over his head as he rushed to get away from his dad; unfortunately, Noah was pretty quick for a man in his forties. "Hey, hey, hey, back it up," he sighed and turned to face his father. "I know what you're thinking. I know you've got all these ideas about patterns and people dying in threes—"

Stiles cut him off. "Dad, they were murdered," he then corrected himself. "Sacrificed, actually."

"I've got half the state, including the FBI coming in on this," Noah told him. "They're not getting away with killing one of our own."

Stiles almost deflated at his father's words. Up until then, he hadn't thought about just who was sacrificed. It was Deputy Tara. She had been Noah's right-hand woman ever since he was elected to be sheriff, and she was a big part of Stiles' life after his mom died. She used to bake him cookies and helped him with his homework when he was having trouble. She was a good woman.

"Dad, they killed Tara," his voice was shakier than he cared to admit. "You know, how many times did she help me with my math homework when I had to wait at the station for you?"

Noah inhaled deeply and Stiles could see the sadness in his eyes. "Just, uh, get to class, okay?" he nodded behind Stiles and greeted Olivia, who Stiles hadn't even noticed had walked over to them. "Hi, Olivia."

"Hi, Sheriff," Olivia waved at him politely.

Noah went back to his conversation with the deputy and the principal, leaving Stiles and Olivia to themselves.

Olivia gave him a sympathetic look. "How are you feeling?"

"Not the greatest, but I'll live," Stiles took her hand and locked their fingers together.

"Well, if you need to talk, I'm here," she promised him, letting go of his hand and ignoring the pout he sent her to wrap her arm around his waist.

"What happened to no public displays of affection?"

"I'll think I'll make an exception for just today."

"Just today?" Stiles stopped walking and when she tilted her head up to look at him, grinned down at her.

"Just today."

"Well, then I better make the most of it," he remarked before ducking his head and slamming his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. She easily returned his affection but when he attempted to slip his tongue into her mouth, she pulled back. "Sorry, too much."

"A little," Olivia laughed. "Come on, we have English and I don't want Ms. Blake to tell on me to Derek."

"Would she really do that?"

"God, I hope not."

-

"Idioms, analogies, metaphors, and similes; all tools the writer uses to tell their story," Ms. Blake stated as she walked around the classroom. She paused in between Olivia and Lydia's desks, glancing down at Lydia's drawing of a tree. "Lydia, I wasn't aware you had so many hidden talents."

"You and ever guy I've ever dated," Lydia smirked up at her, causing Olivia to snicker.

"Oh," Ms. Blake was surprised by her reply. "um, well, that was an idiom, by the way. Idioms are something of a secret to the people who know the language or the culture..."

Olivia did not like the meaningful look that Ms. Blake gave her, Stiles, Scott, and Lydia. They all knew that she knew about werewolves—she was there when Boyd died, after all—but they didn't need her to act like an amateur and blow the big secret by acting nervous.

"They're phrases that only make sense if you know key words," she continued. "Saying 'jump the gun' is meaningful only if you know about the starting gun in a race, or a phrase like 'seeing the whole board.'"

"Like chess," Stiles offered.

"That's right, Stiles," Ms. Blake smiled down at him. "Do you play?"

"Uh, no," Stiles shook his head. "My father does."

Ms. Blake smiled at him again and faced the rest of the class. "Now, when does an idiom become a cliché?"

Olivia raised her hand to answer and Ms. Blake gave her the go-ahead.

"When you say the idiom too much," she reported. "It's like saying, 'it's raining cats and dogs,' Eventually it'll catch and more people will say it. It's an overused idiom."

"Great answer, Olivia," Ms. Blake grinned at her and then went on with her lesson.

Once Ms. Blake was far enough away that they could whisper to each other, Scott leaned over in his seat to speak to Stiles and Olivia. "I think I can get to Ethan. I'm pretty sure I can make him talk."

Olivia scowled at the mention of one-half of the alpha twins while Stiles asked, "What do you want to do that for?"

"The druids are emissaries, right?" Scott pointed out. "What if the Darach was an emissary to the alphas?"

Olivia pressed her lips together in agreement. "You've got a point."

"Thank you," Scott grinned at her and then turned to Stiles to wait for his response. "So?"

"So, I can't believe that we've gotten to the point where a sentence like 'what if the Darach was an emissary to the alphas?' actually makes sense to me," Stiles huffed. "Second of all, we're gonna have a huge problem getting to Ethan."

"What's that?"

"Going through Aiden," Stiles stated matter-of-factly. "Ever since he's been back at school, they're always together. How are we gonna separate them again?"

Eyebrows furrowing, Olivia tried to think of something that would distract Aiden. She didn't like the guy whatsoever, so the only thing she knew about him was that he liked to hook up with Lydia in Coach's office.

Wait.

"I have an idea," she spoke up. When the boys looked at her curiously, she nodded toward Lydia, who was still concentrating on her spooky drawing of the tree.

Feeling eyes on her, Lydia looked up at them and sighed, "What now?"

-

Just staring at Ethan's face made Olivia want to slap the shit out of him. Normally, she would think that she'd be somewhat friends with Ethan. But with the situation they were in now, she doubted that she would ever want to be. She didn't see what happened with Boyd, but Isaac had given her some details. She knew that Ethan and Aiden had picked up Boyd's electrocuted body and dropped him onto Derek's claws. She knew that they watched as Derek's claws ripped up his internal organs, and she knew that they walked away without a care that they had left a teenage boy dead behind them.

However, at least she wasn't joining Stiles and Scott in order to talk to Aiden. She didn't know if she could even look at his stupid smug face without attacking him. She didn't even care if he was ten times stronger than her. Ideally, she'd be able to calm his ass down and then Stiles or Allison could get the drop on him. Lord knows that Scott wouldn't.

"Why are you even talking to me?" Ethan asked, his eyes flitting between the three of them. "I helped kill your friend. How do you know I'm not gonna kill another one?"

Olivia gritted her teeth at his words and when he looked at her toward the end of his question, she stiffened. Stiles did, too. In fact, his temper flared at the way the alpha talked about Boyd and how he had the audacity to look at Olivia, like she hadn't been affected by Boyd's death.

"Are you look at her? Are you threatening her?" he snapped at him, standing up straight and stepping closer to Olivia. "You know what I'm gonna do? I'm going to break off an extra-large branch of mountain ash, wrap it in wolfsbane, roll it in mistletoe, and shove it up your fucking ass, you absolute dick—"

"Okay, Stiles," Scott cut him off nervously, while Olivia gently grabbed his arm and reached through their tether to calm him down. She loved that he was willing to stand up to an alpha to protect her, but she didn't want him to get hurt. "Woah, we get it."

Stiles gave Scott an irritated look and wrapped his arm around Olivia's shoulders, exhaling deeply as his anger started to concede.

"Look," Scott looked back at Ethan, who had been staring at Stiles blankly throughout his whole rant. "We're talking to you because I know that you didn't want to kill Boyd. And I think that if something like that happened now, you wouldn't do it again."

Ethan shook his head shortly. "You don't know what we owe them, especially Deucalion," he told the three of them. "We're weren't like Kali and Ennis when we met him. We weren't alphas."

"What were you?" Scott asked.

"Omegas," Olivia frowned at Ethan's answer; he and Aiden really didn't deserve any sympathy but she was going soft and couldn't help but feel a bud of it. Being the type of omega that had a pack—not ones who chose to be by themselves, like Derek had been—was said to be horrible. "In actual wolf packs, omegas are the scapegoat; the last to eat, the one who has to take the abuse from the rest of the pack."

Stiles raised his eyebrows. "So you and your brother were, like, the bitches of the pack?"

Olivia hid the smirk that threatened to spread her lips and nudged Stiles as Ethan gave him an annoyed look. "Something like that."

"What happened?" she spoke up instead, wanting to know how he and Aiden managed to make it into the alpha pack.

"They were killers," Ethan shook his head in disgust, which Olivia found to be ironic. "I mean, people talk about us as monsters. Well, they were the ones who gave us the reputation. And our alpha was the worst of them."

"Why didn't you guys just fight back?" Stiles brought up a good point. "Form Voltron-Wolf, you know, and kick everyone's asses?"

"We couldn't," Ethan stated flatly. "We didn't know how to control it back then."

"Deucalion taught you," Scott realized.

Ethan nodded. "And then, we fought. We took down the whole pack, one-by-one," his voice got a little vicious. "and by the time we got to our alpha, he was begging for his life. We tore him apart, literally."

"What about your emissary?" Ethan shook his head at Scott's question. "They're all dead? Kali and Ennis' too?"

"All of them except for Deucalion's," he confirmed.

"You mean Ms. Morrell?" Olivia gave him a pointed look and then paused as her mind seemed to leave her body and then zap right back into it. "Oh, my God."

Cora...Cora...Cora...

"Livvy, are you okay?" Stiles asked as Ethan grunted in pain.

"What's going on?" Scott asked both of them.

"My brother's hurt," Ethan answered at the same time as Olivia told Stiles, "Something's wrong with Cora."

It didn't take long for Stiles to put the pieces together; Cora and Aiden were obviously fighting somewhere nearby. "Where are they?" he asked as her eyes flashed back in forth between purple and blue. "Babe, you gotta focus."

"I...I," she stammered before she was able to pass through into Cora's tether and find out where she was. "They're in the boys' locker room."

The four of them took off into the empty hallways, trying to get to the boys' locker room before any more damage was done between Cora and Aiden. Luckily they weren't far from Coach's office and they made it to the locker room just in time to see Aiden whip Cora in the head with a fifty-pound weight.

"Stop, stop!" Olivia shouted as Scott and Ethan took a hold of Aiden on each of his arms. She didn't bother visualizing the anchor that she put on him, she was too angry about him hurting her cousin that it came easy to her.

Aiden's wolf features immediately melted away, calming down in his brother's hold.

"You can't do this," Ethan reminded Aiden as Olivia and Stiles knelt down by Lydia beside Cora's injured body.

"She came at me!" Aiden shouted. He would have growled, but Olivia's hold was still over him.

"It doesn't matter! Kali gave Derek until the next full moon. You can't touch him, Cora, or Olivia."

Stiles placed his hand on Olivia's back and glared up at the alpha twins. "Get the fuck out of here."

It looked like Aiden wanted to argue but Ethan wouldn't let him. Without a word, the twins left the locker room. Olivia hardly noticed, she was too focused on her cousin and the huge wound on her head that was pouring blood.

"She's really hurt," she said softly. She looked at Stiles and Scott and asked, "Can you help me get her up?"

Once Cora was up on her feet, Olivia escorted her over to the sinks. She got some paper towel and dampened it in order to wipe the blood off of her face. Cora was not pleased with her cousin's hovering and grunted a few times when Olivia cleaned the wound.

"Stay still," Olivia got some antibiotic cream from her bag and gently smeared it over the wound. "You're such a bad patient."

"Shuddup."

"Are you okay?" Scott asked Cora.

Lydia scoffed. "She doesn't look okay."'

Cora gave Lydia an irritated look and carefully pushed Olivia away from her. "I'll heal," Almost immediately after she took a step away from the sink, her legs weakened and she faltered. She would have fallen if Scott wasn't there to grab her and keep her steady. "I said I'm fine."

"Stop being so stubborn," Olivia sighed and wrapped an arm around her waist. At least Cora would let her help.

"Do you realize how suicidally crazy that was?" Stiles pointed out sternly. "What were you thinking going after them?"

"I did it for Boyd," Cora snapped back at him. "None of you were doing anything."

Olivia sighed. "You know that's not true, Cora."

"We're trying," Scott added.

"And you're failing," Cora addressed all her ire at Scott, Stiles, and Lydia. "You're just a bunch of stupid teenagers running around, thinking that you can stop people from getting killed, but all you do is show up late. All you really do is find the bodies."

"Cora, shut up," Olivia's voice had hardened as she turned and carefully dragged her cousin out of the locker room, not hearing Stiles' comment about the both of them definitely being part of the Hale family. "I know you're grieving and you're angry and hurt, but you can't say things like that to them."

"Why not? It's the truth."

"You shouldn't say it because we're trying our hardest to figure this out," Olivia stated, annoyed. "And I get it, I can feel Boyd's loss, too, but you can't take it out on people who are doing their best to help you and the whole town."

Cora let out a drawn-out sigh and winced when a flash of pain went through her head. "I'm not apologizing," she said stubbornly.

"That's fine. Just give them some slack."

"Hey!" they heard Stiles call from behind them; he was soon at their sides. "Do you need a ride?"

"Um, yeah," Olivia nodded. "I can leave my car here and pick it up later tonight."

"Sounds good."

Halfway to their journey to Derek's loft and after three attempts to make contact with Derek, Allison called them. She informed them that she and Isaac had been searching her dad's desk and found a Celtic knot that was labeled with each group of the sacrifices. She listed the groups of sacrifices that had already happened and then the two that had yet to come.

"Philosophers?" Olivia asked in surprised. What exactly did that mean? There were a lot of occupations or people that could easily fit into that category. It would be someone like Plato, or a teacher, or a scientist, or even a really smart person. But, at the same time, how did Deputy Tara fit in that category?

"And guardians," Allison added; that made more sense in Tara's case since she was a police officer. "which after last night, has to mean something like law enforcement. Stiles, you have to tell your dad. Tell him whatever you need but you have to get him to believe. Tell your dad, warn him."

"Okay, okay, okay," Stiles said quickly, his mind racing a mile a minute. "I know."

Olivia ended the call and looked at her boyfriend, seeing the anxious look on his face. "You're gonna tell him right?"

"I have to," Stiles nodded. "but I'm gonna need both of your guys' help."

Olivia nodded and took his hand from the steering wheel, squeezing it tightly. "Whatever you need."

-

Olivia watched from Stiles' bed as her boyfriend paced back and forth, trying to come up with something to tell his dad. Personally, she had never gone through telling a parent about the supernatural world and because she was pretty sure that Natalie had some sort of knowledge about it—and she was in deep, deep denial that Olivia and Lydia were a part of it—she wouldn't really need to. She couldn't put herself in Stiles' shoes properly and it annoyed the crap out of her because she wanted to be there for him like he was always there for her.

"Okay, okay, okay," Stiles murmured under his breath. "Yes, okay...No, no..."

"Stiles?" Noah cleared his throat.

Stiles quickly faced his dad. "Dad, I'm sorry. I'm just...I'm trying to...I'm just trying to figure out how to start here."

"Hey," Noah said sternly. 'I don't have this kind of time."

Stiles blew out a heavy breath, causing Olivia to speak up encouragingly, "Stiles, just start with the cases."

"Right, right, the cases," Stiles nodded jerkily and looked back at Noah. "Okay, um, for the last year, you've had all these cases that you couldn't figure out, right? I mean, all the murders involving Kate Argent, and then Matt killing all the people who drowned him, and all these murders right now. It's like...it's like you've been playing a losing game."

Noah stared at him, unimpressed. It was clear that he didn't know why Stiles was going through his "failed" cases. "Stiles, the last thing I need right now is a job performance review from my own son."

Stiles rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I know," he looked over at his dresser in order to pull his thoughts together and spotted the chess board he and his dad would play with from time to time. "Okay, see, but that's—that's just it, Dad."

He hurried to his dresser and grabbed the chess board, which folded into a case to keep all of the pieces together, and then set it on his desk. "The reason that you're losing the game is cause you've never been able to see the whole board," he opened the game and tossed out all the pieces. "I need to show you the whole board."

While Stiles carefully labeled each and every chess piece with sticky tabs, Olivia let Cora lean against her. She made sure that she didn't fall asleep, but soon she was swept up into an episode. She could hear Lydia screaming and it took all of her control—and biting down on the inside of her cheek—to make sure she didn't scream too (she didn't realize that it would have helped Stiles convince his dad that the supernatural life was real until afterward).

Noah did not look over at her—and therefore, did not see her purple eyes—because he was too concentrated on watching Stiles label and explain each supernatural creature and the names of his friends that matched up with them. By the time Olivia was pulled away from Lydia's tether and back in control of her mind, Noah was sufficiently caught up.

Well, kind of.

"Scott and Derek are werewolves," he said flatly, looking across the desk at Stiles.

"Yes."

"And Kate Argent was a werewolf?"

"Hunter," Stiles corrected him, pointing to the piece where he labeled Kate with a purple tab. "That's...Purple stands for hunter."

"Allison and her dad are hunters, too," Olivia told him, leaving out the part where they were supposed to be retired. If Mr. Argent and Allison were retired, then normal grandparents would be working overtime.

"Yeah," Noah gestured to Dr. Deaton's piece. "and my friend, Deaton, the veterinarian, is a kanima?"

"No, no, he's a druid, okay?" Stiles stated. "Well, we think."

Olivia and Cora exchanged a look. They didn't really think that Dr. Deaton was a druid, they were 99.9% positive that he was one. Then again, Olivia could see why Stiles said what he said, Noah could only handle so much.

"So, who's the kanima?"

"Jackson," Olivia responded, thinking of her friend; she missed him.

"No, Jackson's a werewolf."

"Jackson was the kanima first, and then Peter and Derek killed him and he came back to life as a werewolf," Stiles explained. "Now, he's in London."

Noah frowned. "Who's the da-rack?"

Stiles corrected his pronunciation. "It's da-rock."

"We don't know who the darach is," Olivia piped in.

Stiles pointed at her in agreement. "We don't know yet."

Noah blinked at them. "But he was killed by werewolves?"

"Slashed up and left for dead."

"We think."

Stiles pointed at Olivia again. "We think, yeah."

Noah sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "Why was Jackson the kanima?"

"'Cause sometimes, the shape that you take reflects the person that you are."

"And what shape would an increasingly confused and angrier-by-the-second father take?"

"Uh, that would be more of an expression like the one you're currently wearing," Stiles replied nervously.

"Yeah," Noah heaved himself off the chair and started toward the door.

Stiles scrambled out of his, too. "Dad—Dad, would you wait?" he begged his father. "I can prove it, okay? Cora's a werewolf and Livvy's an anchor. You ready?" he asked Olivia and Cora; they nodded and Olivia helped Cora stand. "All right, Dad, just watch this, okay?"

Olivia didn't know if Noah managed to see any sign of their supernatural nature or not. Cora's name popped up in her head and she was dragged down to the floor when Cora collapsed.

-

"I wished you would have answered my calls," Olivia muttered to Derek as they sat side-by-side in the hospital waiting room while Cora was being examined and placed in a room.

"I know, Ollie," Derek replied softly. "I'm sorry."

"I don't understand why she's not healing. She should have healed by now."

"We'll find out why she's not," Derek assured her and squeezed her hand. "I already called Peter. Hopefully he knows something we don't."

"Hopefully," Olivia sighed; her phone started vibrating in her hand. When she was that it was Scott, she excused herself from Derek and walked over to Stiles, where he was talking to Melissa. "Hey."

"Hey, is Stiles with you?"

"Yeah, hold on," she waved to Melissa silently and grabbed Stiles' arm, pulling him into an empty hallway; she put him on speaker. "Okay, you're on speaker."

"All right, it's philosophers as in teachers," Scott told them hurriedly. "Allison and her father just found Mr. Westover."

"That makes sense," Stiles glanced at Olivia. "Tara, she wasn't always a cop. She used to teach middle school."

"Then the last one's gonna be another teacher."

"There's close to a hundred teachers employed at the high school," Olivia pointed out worriedly. "There's even more at the middle and elementary schools."

"And they're all headed home," Stiles added.

"No, no they're not," Scott said after a few seconds of silence. "They're all going to the recital."

"Fuck," Stiles cursed in annoyance. "All right, I'm gonna go talk to my dad."

"I'll borrow Derek's truck and head over there now, Scott," Olivia took the call off speaker as Stiles walked away to find his dad. "I'll only be a couple of minutes."

"Okay, but Liv..."

Her eyebrows furrowed at the worry in Scott's voice. "What's wrong?"

"I talked to Morrell. She told me that the alpha pack wanted me because I'm supposed to be a true alpha."

"A true alpha?" she repeated in disbelief. "Wow, Scott."

She was impressed; true alphas only came around once in a while and the fact that their own Scott was going to be one was special.

"Yeah, but that's not the only thing she told me," Scott sighed; Olivia braced herself for more news. "She told me that the alphas want you, too. She said that anchors are rare and you have powers you haven't even untapped. Deucalion thinks you be a good addition to the pack."

Shit, shit, shit, shit...Olivia cursed herself. Why did I have to be a rare species?

"Well, that is not good," she breathed nervously before collecting herself. "but we can deal with it later. We need to stop the darach before someone else dies."

"Yeah, we do," Scott agreed. "All right, I'll see you in ten."

"Okay, be careful."

"You too, bye."

The recital had already started by the time Olivia arrived at the school. A storm was brewing overhead and the faint music she could hear coming from the auditorium made the environment even more eerie. She ran through the parking, wishing that she hadn't worn heels that day, and rushed into the building.

She got to the lobby but stopped right in her tracks outside the main part of the auditorium, her gaze taking on a purple tint. An indescribable feeling flashed through her body and then she moved, letting whatever the feeling was take her where she needed to go. It was like the time that Derek had been shot with the wolfsbane bullet and she was led on autopilot throughout the school until she found him.

Lydia...Lydia...Lydia...Lydia, Lydia, Lydia...

She found herself in the English hallway, automatically making her way to Ms. Blake's classroom in a daze. She stopped just outside of the classroom when she heard Lydia and Ms. Blake talking.

She didn't take time to listen to what they were saying. She stormed into the classroom but was immediately airborne. Her back hit the wall painfully and she was risen until her feet were a couple feet off the ground. She was stuck and she was useless.

"Glad you joined the party," Ms. Blake—no, fuck that, I am not giving her any respect by calling her anything but her stupid first name! –smirked at her. "I was wondering when you would come for her."

"Let her go," Olivia snapped at her, her eyes darting to Lydia, who was terrified and staring at her with wet eyes. "What do you even want with her?"

"Nothing special," Jennifer shrugged. She flicked her hand toward a chair and Olivia flew to it, slamming against the hard, wooden back. "You, on the other hand..."

Olivia was unable to move as Jennifer used duct tape to secure her hands and legs to the chair. When she was finished, she picked up a small wooden dowel and started wrapping a length of strong cord around it. She was making a garrote.

"What are you doing?" Lydia whimpered, still fighting off unconscious from the hard hit she took from Jennifer when she first walked into the classroom.

"What's necessary," Jennifer stated. "I'm still surprised none of you seem to get that. You call them sacrifices but you're not understanding the word," Olivia rolled her eyes at her dramatic monologue. "It's derived from the Latin 'sacrificium', an offering to a deity, a sacred rite. A necessary evil."

"Oh, shut up," Olivia groaned, hoping to get her attention away from Lydia. "I'm pretty sure that killing fifteen innocent people isn't necessary."

"You know, on the outside, you appear so tough, emotionless," Jennifer stood from her crouched position in front of Lydia and sauntered over to Olivia. "but I know you're afraid right now. I know you're afraid all the time. This shell?" she poked Olivia in the cheek. "Well, it's all an act."

"Who cares if it is?" Olivia hissed right back at her.

"Oh, I don't care. I was just taunting you before I kill you and your precious cousins. The useless ones, I mean," Jennifer grinned maliciously. "I think I'll keep Derek around."

Olivia harshly snapped her jaw together, speaking through her clenched teeth, "Stay away from them."

"I would but I won't," Jennifer giggled. "See, you were my target. Deucalion wants you and you're powerful. If I kill you now, he won't be able to use you against me."

Olivia's heart started to race and her own name was starting to be repeated over and over in her head. Scott had to know that Lydia had disappeared and that she never made it to the auditorium. She had to stall so he could get there. "So, you're doing this to go up against the alpha pack?"

"Correct. Let's just say that you don't know the alphas like I do," Jennifer twisted the garrote in her hands and stepped behind Olivia. "And because they currently don't know my plan, I think Lydia is going to have to go, too. She knows too much. First, she can watch you die."

"No, no, no," Olivia said frantically, locking her scared eyes on Lydia, who stared fearfully back at her.

"Stop!" Lydia whimpered. "Stop, stop!"

Jennifer didn't stop. Before she could fully press the garrote against Olivia's throat, she forcefully tore the duct tape around her right hand and slipped it between her flesh and the cord. She gasped as the cord dug into her fingers. "Lydia!"

As if they had rehearsed, Lydia let out the loudest scream that had ever passed through her lips. Olivia screamed only a second later, unable to fight the urge that came from Lydia's tether. It was kind of weird, warning people of your own death.

Olivia's scream died out first and then a couple seconds later, so did Lydia's. Jennifer dropped the garrote from her hands, letting it hang on Olivia's neck, and walked over to stand in front of Lydia.

"Unbelievable," she gasped, studying Lydia intently. "You're a banshee. A wailing woman, right before my eyes. You're just like me, Lydia. Look like the innocent flower but be the serpent under it."

"She's nothing like you," Olivia spoke up fiercely, her voice hoarse.

Jennifer shrugged, the comment not bothering her. "It's too bad, though, and too late," she walked back over to Olivia, taking her place behind her and picking up the garrote. The garrote pulled tightly around Olivia's neck, making her choke. "One last philosopher."

Olivia couldn't breathe. There was no room for her trachea to move, causing her to suffocate. It was almost as if she could feel her throat being crushed, causing her to panic and squirm around in the chair, kicking her feet to try to fight back.

Olivia...Olivia...OLIVIA, OLIVIA, OLIVIA!!!!

"Stop, stop!" Lydia shouted frantically, choking on her tears as she watched Jennifer pull out a knife from her person and hold it up to Olivia's throat; the second part of the three-fold death.

"Drop it!" a new voice joined Lydia's.

With Jennifer sufficiently distracted, the garrote dropped from Olivia's neck. She took in a deep breath, her throat sore inside and out. Something urged her to look over at who had interrupted Jennifer, but she recognized the voice. Noah had ran into the classroom, gun cocked and aimed right at the darach.

As soon as she laid eyes on her boyfriend's father, Jennifer whipped the knife that was going to be used on her at him. It lodged itself into his shoulder so forcefully that it splayed him flat on his back. Noah wasn't technically in her pack, but he was someone Olivia cared for very much; that meant that she knew he was in danger, but he wasn't going to die. She couldn't explain it, but there was a different between the whispers that warned her of a pack member in danger and then the ones that warned her of the pack member's death. Noah was okay, for now.

Jennifer turned back to Olivia, intending to finish what she started, but a roar filled the room. Scott had arrived, his werewolf features fully on display as he snarled at Jennifer. He lunged at her, but Jennifer easily dodged each of his blows. She was more powerful than him and the way she sent him flying across the room and into a pile of desks proved it.

Olivia didn't know exactly what Jennifer did to him, but it was obvious that she did something else to him. Scott was spitting up blood and hitting desks that didn't weigh much didn't seem like it would do something like that to him.

She whimpered through the pain in her throat, "Scott!"

Her attention was dragged away from Scott as Jennifer slid her desk across the room and right into the door, slamming it closed. Before she could even wonder why Jennifer had done that, she saw Stiles' head pop into view from the small window at the top of the door. He was slamming his whole body against it, but with the weight of the desk, it wouldn't budge. He couldn't get into the room.

With Stiles and Scott taken care of, Jennifer focused on Noah, who had grabbed his gun, got to his knees, and aimed it at her.

"There was a girl," he said tiredly as Jennifer took slow steps toward him. "years ago. We found her in the woods, her face and body slashed apart. That was you, wasn't it?"

Jennifer glared at him. "Maybe I should've started with philosophers with knowledge and strategy."

She closed in on Noah and he pulled the trigger, shooting in her in her right thigh; Jennifer simply shook it off and continued on to him. "Healers," she grabbed him by the knife in his shoulder and held him high in the air, the blade slicing through the fleshy part of his shoulder. "Warriors..." she ripped his badge off of his shirt and crushed it with her fingers. "Guardians...Virgins..."

"God, leave him alone!" Olivia shouted to the best of her ability as Jennifer placed a wet kiss against Noah's mouth. Jennifer's face warped into a horrifying figure and screeched while she grabbed Noah and flew toward the windows. "No!"

Jennifer had disappeared with Noah. Scott had woken up from whatever daze Jennifer had put him in and the force that was shoving the desk against the door had disappeared. While Scott had rushed toward Lydia—on Olivia's insistence; the redhead was unconscious from the blow Jennifer had landed on her—Stiles rushed into the classroom and to the windows.

"Dad?" there was no answer to Stiles' call and it hit them all like a punch to the gut. "Dad?!"

(Gif is not mine)

[valeriethepussycats]

Assemble

Chapter 9

Pairing- Loki x Reader x Steve (one side)

Warning- cursing

Your thoughts and other characters are in italics.

Fury gathers Tony and Steve back into the briefing room everyone there has a look as if in a daze. A look of numb shock is shown on their devastated faces.

“These were in Phil Coulson's jacket.Guess he never did get you to sign them.”Nick throws Coulson's Captain America trading cards  on the table towards Steve. Steve picks them up, stained with blood.

“We're dead in the air up here. Our communications, location of the cube, Banner, Thor and I don’t know if Y/n will recover from this....I got nothing for you. Lost my one good eye. Maybe I had that coming.Yes, we were going to build an arsenal with the Tesseract. I never put all my chips on that number though, because I was playing something even riskier.” Nick told Steve and Ton. “There was an idea, Stark knows this, called The Avengers Initiative. The idea to bring together a group of remarkable people, see if they could become something more. See if they could work together when we needed them to, to fight the battles that we never could. Phil Coulson died still believing in that idea, in heroes.”

Tony gets up and walks off, not wanting to hear it anymore.

“Well, it's an old fashioned notion.” Nick finished.

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Thor walks out far into the meadow. He looks down. Mjölnir.

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Banner wakes up, in human form with Y/n words echoing in he’s head. He looks around and sees he is in a pile of rubble and looks up at the open ceiling he crashed in and is completely naked. A Security Guard stands there, amazed. “You fell out of the sky.”

“Did I hurt anybody?”  Bruce asked coming to.

“There's nobody around here to get hurt. You did scare the hell out of some

pigeons though.” The Security Guard  answered.

“Lucky.” Bruce replied.

“Or just good aim. You were awake when  you fell.”  The Security Guard told Bruce.

“You saw?”

“The whole thing, right through the ceiling. Big and green and buck ass nude. Here...”  He throws Banner a pair of big pants. Banner pulls on his pants. “I didn't think those would fit you  until you shrunk down to a regular size fella.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you an alien?”

“What?” Bruce asked.

“From outer space, an alien?” The Security Guard wondered.

“No.” Bruce answered.

“Well then, son, you've got a condition.”  The Security Guard disclosed.

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Barton is strapped down. Natasha watches over him as Barton tries to shake off Loki's mind control.

“Clint, you're gonna be alright.” Natasha told him.”

“You know that? Is that what you know? I got...I gotta go in though. I gotta

flush him out.”  Barton stated.

“We don't have that long, it's gonna take time.” Natasha stressed.

“I don't understand. Have you ever had someone take your brain and play? Pull you out and send something else in? Do you know what it's like to be unmade?” Barton questioned.

“You know that I do.” Natasha replied.

“Why am I back? How did you get him out?” Barton asked.

“Cognitive recalibration. I hit you really hard in the head.” Natasha answered.

“Thanks.” Barton stated then Natasha unfastens the restraints. “Tasha, how many agents?”

“Don't. Don't do that to yourself,  Clint. This is Loki. This is monsters and magic and nothing we were ever trained for.”  Natasha explained.

“Loki, he got away?” Barton wondered.

“Yeah. I don't suppose you know where?”  Natasha asked.

“I didn't need to know. I didn't ask.  He's gonna make his play soon though. Today.”  Barton answered.

“We gotta stop him.” Natasha declared.”

“Yeah? Who's we?” Barton questioned.

“I don't know. Whoever's left.” Natasha replied.

“Well, if I put an arrow in Loki's eye socket, I'd sleep better I suppose.” Barton  remarked.

“Now you sound like you.” Natasha sits next to her partner and friend.

“But you don't. You're a spy, not a soldier. Now you want to wade into a war. Why? What did Loki do to you?” Barton  asked.

“He didn't, I just...”

“Natasha.”

“I've been compromised. I got red in my ledger. I'd like to wipe it out.”

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Y/n is in Coulson’s office or more like he’s room trying to calm the raging storm inside of her revenge and anger is never a good combination with her. She Angrily swipeseverything off of his desk breaking the laptop. Automatically feeling guilty Y/n been down to pick up the laptop and sees a briefcase under the desk Curiosity taking over her she pulls the briefcase out and sees that it has her name on it.

“What are you?”

Y/n opens the briefcase and see A sticky note that says play me. Y/n then moves the sticky note and play on the video. At first all you could hear is rumble and the  screen is black. Giving up on the video Y/n  moves to pick up the stuff she knocked off the deck. 

“You should cover up because it’s going to Rain.” Said Coulson’s voice.

Y/n turns to look back at the briefcase and see Coulson on the screen.

“No um time to bundle up because it’s going to rain no. Ohhh how about the  Red Wing Black bird soaring through the sky. Get it  because of the color of the wings  it reminds me of you and the Phoenix....The point is I had this uniform made for you because your a hero and every hero needs to dress the part and have a name. Now go save the world.”

The video stops an a Second part compartment from the briefcase opened up revealing a bodysuit that’s Blue, Red, with a Yellow. It’s like Funky and Radiant. The base of the suit is blue and it’s had a red vertical line going down the middle and two yellow diagonal lines on each side of the vertical line, and the sleeves and legs have the same design as the stomach but the sleeves go all the way down to Cover the two middle fingers. The top of the suit makes an ‘x’ separate each side of the chest, leaving the neck and a little cleavage showing.

Oh Phill this is beautiful

When Y/n turns the suit around to look at the back she see a Metal plate on her upper back.

What are you for?

Just as the thought ran into Y/n’s mind a small Wood sheath attached to the Metal plate. Y/n gaps in shock. She knows exactly what that is

Y/n goes to pull the handle of the Sword out of the Wood sheath  and see a small dagger that slowly start to unfold into a 65 cm Katana Sword.

“Oh my god...how could he had this made.” Y/n wondered as a slow smile creeped on to her face. She knew she could do it and so did Phill.

Red Wing has a nice ring to it

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Tony look at the hatch. He stands not saying a word. Steve walks in.

“Was he married?” Steve asked.

“No. There was a uh...cellist, I think.” Tony answered.

“I'm sorry. He seemed like a good man.” Steve  answered.

“He was an idiot.” Tony remarked.

“Why? For believing?” Steve asked.

“For taking on Loki alone.” Tony stated.

“He was doing his job.”  Steve voiced

“He was out of his league. He should have waited. He should have...” Tony said looking at the spot where  Coulson die.

“Sometimes there isn't a way out, Tony.” Steve started.

Tony walks away from Steve. “Right. How did that work for him?” Tony asked sarcastically

“Is this the first time you've lost a soldier?” Steve asked.

Tony turns around sharply. “ WE ARE NOT SOLDIERS! I am not marching to Fury's fife!”

“Neither am I! He's got the same blood on his hands as Loki does. Right now we've got to put that aside and get this done. Now Loki needs a power source, if we can put together a list...”  Steve trailed off.

“He’s in Manhattan and if I’m not mistaken I think he’s at your tower Tony. It’s the only power store in Manhattan that I can think of.” Y/n chimed in.

Tony and Steve turns around and see Y/n standing in the door waring a black and white suit.

“Y/n.” Steve said staggered.

“What do you think Phil had it made. I’ve never had a suit of armor before but this is kind of bad ass.” Y/n proclaimed while she was checking herself out.

When Steve saw Y/n’s suit he had to check himself. He know of Y/n’s powers before the rest of the team so he knows if he let’s he’s mind wonder it would go to ungentleman like place  and Y/n could pick up on that and he doesn’t want to make things awkward between them. Steve can really see Y/n being an important person in his new life. Steve clears his throat then asks. “Where you going?”

“To stop Loki but first I’m gonna find Thor.” Y/n answered.

“What about Banner?” Tony asked.

“I sent Bruce to Manhattan.” Y/n answered.

“Are you sure your ok to do this?” Steve asked in a  concern voice.

“Yes. Im 75% sure I can do. I just  had to take some time to clear my head because before fighting Loki To keep my emotions in check.” Y/n answered.

“Or you’ll  go Super Saiyan got it.” Tony remarked.

“I am so sorry about that...” Y/n trailed off.

Steve waves his hand. “It’s ok we understand anyone would be upset finding out that kind of news.”

Y/n smiles at Tony and Steve then opens the hatch. Clueless to what’s going on Steve and Tony backs up from the hatch.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tony questioned.

Y/n smiles. “You guys need to suit up I’ll see you there.”  

Y/n jumps in the hatch then it closes behind her. Steve and Tony look at the hatch wide eyes and their mouths slightly open.

“Did she just?” Steve asked.

“Yes. Yes she did.” Tony answered.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Erik works around the CMS device that has already been set-upon the rooftop of Tony's tower.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Steve walks in full uniform. Natasha looks at him, unprepared.

“Time to go.” Steve announced.

“Go where?” Natasha wondered.

“I'll tell you on the way. Can you fly  one of those jets?”  Steve asked.

Barton walks out of the restroom. Looks at Cap. “I can.”

Steve looks at Natasha and she nods her head to confirm Barton's on their side.

“You got a suit?” Steve asked Barton.

“Yeah.”

“Then suit up.”

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Y/n is flying in the sky searching the ground to see where Thor landed until a massive lightning bolt all most hits her, Y/n flys out the way and looks down and see Thor.

“Really you couldn’t killed me!” Y/n shouted as she flys down to Thor who is standing in a meadow of flowers.

“I know about Phill.” Y/n said with a hint of sadness.

“I’m sorry. I know he meant  the world to you.” Thor said as he gives Y/n a hug then placed his forehead on her for a moment of silence.

“I’ll deal with Loki I gave you my word.” Thor declare.

“What happens if you get hurt?” Y/n asked.

“You will not risky your life me Y/n not again.” Thor disclosed getting upset for his friend.

“I won’t but I won’t yet you get hurt knowing I can help...come on I know where Loki is.” Y/n voiced leaving  no room for an argument.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Captain America pulls on his Helmet and Shield. Tony welds his Iron Man helmet. Light slips down over Iron Man's eye holes. Black Widow attaches a glove gauntlet  with her rounds on her wrist and a blue light charges. Hawkeye slips on his quiver of arrows.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Cap, Widow and Hawkeye walk towards and into the Quinjet. A Young Shield Pilot looks and stands in their way.

“You are not authorized to be here...” The Pilot stated.

“Son... just don't.” Steve told the The Pilot.

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Fury looks the window of the ship, contemplating. Agent Hill

walks up to him, knowing. “Sir.”

“Agent Hill?”

“Those cards, they were in Coulson's locker, not in his jacket.” Agent Hill disclosed.

“They needed the push.” Nick said  holding Coulson's cards.

A loud noise screeches. Fury looks out to see Iron Man flying off as well as the Quinjet.

“They found it. Get our communications back up, whatever you have to do. I  want eyes on everything.” Nick ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

Part 10

Kuddly Krab: @aesthethickks​