#they’re so blissfully unaware their daughter is dead and that their son killed her

[asclexeposting]

sometimes i feel jealous of cisgender people but then. i dont it’s whatever man. no wait i am. i am very jealous of cisgender people in a fucked up way. what

[shirtlesssammy]

7x18: Party On, Garth

Then:

Party on, Garth, indeed

Now:

A group of teens enjoy a camp-out and scary story hour. One dude tells the story of Jenny Greentree, and how she froze to death right under the tree by their campsite. A noise startles them, but it’s revealed to be another friend (wearing Sam Winchester’s striped hoodie?!). Trevor is toasted, but unlike the others, hears or senses some unknown threat, and takes off running. 

His brother and the other campers take off after him, eventually finding him gutted on the side of the road. 

Officer Garth Fitzgerald IV is on the case. He interviews a couple of the campers and they tell him about Jenny Greentree. So, he heads to the cemetery and “Garths” her. 

Trevor’s brother, Ray, gets very drunk alone and heads into the forest with a gun (a winning combo.) He sees a figure in the distance, but before he can reach her, he’s trussed up in a tree and gutted. Way to keep the family tradition alive (er, dead?). Garth hears about it over the radio, and is very upset. 

Meanwhile, DEAN HAS CAS BACK (kinda --he’s a little catatonic after taking on Sam’s crazy), and gets a non-update from Meg. He also gets a call from Garth, not that he remembers who that is. He owes Garth though so they head to help with the case. Instead of Garth, they meet Corporal James Brown.

Discussing the case with Garth, Dean comes to the conclusion that they’re dealing with an invisible ghost werewolf.

Sam learns the father of the dead brothers owns a brewery in town (and OH the irony of Dean Winchester saying microbrews are for douchebags.) Sam and Garth interview him, asking if his sons had enemies. Dean interviews Ray and Trevor’s sister, Maria. She tells him about another business partner, Dale, who died. Sam and Garth then interview Randy, the third business partner. He tells them the death was a suicide, and they’re selling their beer to a major distributor.

Meanwhile, the grieving drunk mom mixes herself a little AM joy. She plops her drink and her daughter’s OJ on the table together. Guess which one the daughter goes for? I mean, not her fault.

She’s instantly drunk, and sees a shadowy figure in the home. She looks for it. Her dad’s like, WTF?

She sees the creepy woman standing right next to her mom, but can only point and scream before her mom is gutted in the kitchen. 

Dean’s had enough of learning about microbrews (and drinking from his own flask that mysteriously sets off Garth’s EMF reader), and pops open some bottles to try. 

Dean learns that he likes the beer, we learn that Garth can get drunk off of one beer, and Sam learns that Dale left the company before he died. They’ve got a possible vengeful spirit on their hands. News of the most recent family tragedy comes across the police scanner. 

Garth and Dean head to the house, and Garth talks to the young daughter, Tess. Or should we say, Mr. Fizzles talks with Tess.

The sock gets Tess to tell them it was a monster with claws --and she drank a grown-up drink.

Sam interviews the widow of the business partner. She reveals that they both despise the other family for their past business dealings, but that her husband had sent them a peace offering. The bottle of saki he gave them arrived in a box “with writing all over it” (likely warded) and he wouldn’t let his wife even touch it. Sam’s spidey sense tingles. 

Dean and Garth piece together the other pertinent facts of the case: you’ve gotta be drunk to see the monster. Dean immediately pulls out his flask and starts drinking. Garth inquires about the flask, learns it’s Bobby’s, and speculates that it could possibly be haunted. Dean SQUASHES the feelings down. He’s here to work!

They all head to the brewery to hunt their ghost and find the potentially cursed bottle of saki - it’s been opened. They find a surveillance camera, but see nothing on the footage from when the elaborate packaging was opened. Dean thinks they need to drink to see the ghost on the security footage. “Can you even get drunk anymore?” Sam inquires, and we feel sad for Dean Winchester. 

They re-watch the footage, only to see the ghost appear this time. “He let that thing out of the box, and it must have just followed him to the place with all the thingies,” Sam summarizes intelligently. Randy arrives at the brewery, calls them hucksters, and starts to call the cops, but Garth tasers him. 

Later, in a restaurant’s back alley, Sam and Dean get a chef to read the box that held the saki. “What you took will be taken from you,” the box warns. The cook gets spooked, because the box declares that the bottle inside contains a shojo, an alcohol spirit. 

Back at the motel, they research shojos. (Randy, the brewery owner, has been kidnapped and stashed in the hot tub.)

There is a way to kill shojos...by using a samurai sword with a shinto blessing. Dean announces that he’s going to search local pawn shops for samurai swords. Lol, show, whatever. Garth pulls out his EMF and holds it near Bobby’s flask. Sam reports that he doesn’t think they’re being haunted by Bobby because he pulled out a talking board when the beer disappeared in a prior episode. Since Bobby’s spirit didn’t chat, Sam dismissed that theory. Their conversation gets interrupted by Randy waking up in Garth’s hot tub. 

Garth interrogates him. He wants to know who his kid is...because he’s in danger. It turns out that Randy had a secret kid - who’s currently working the graveyard shift at the brewery. Garth heads out, pockets loaded with the contents of the motel’s mini bar. 

At the brewery, the would-be victim cleans windows while blissfully unaware of the dangers. 

Dean gets the chef from earlier to read the shinto blessing on the sword he found. 

The blessing done, the chef heads back to work on what has got to be his weirdest night ever on the job. Dean gets an update from Garth on the ghost’s next victim, and learns that he’s at the brewery. 

At the brewery, Garth spots the ghost lurking next to Randy’s son, and hauls him outta there. Garth tries to explain that he’s in danger, but fails. However, the ghost turns up and makes his argument for him. It turns out that getting thrown through a glass window by an invisible force is an effective argument about the existence of unexplainable, superstrong forces. The guy tries to make a run for it, but he’s chased by the terrifying invisible ghost. Sam bursts in and tries to defend against the shojo, but he gets knocked out almost immediately. SAMMY, your head bby!

Dean bursts in with the sword. He is NOT drunk enough, so at first he swings wildly and the sword goes flying. Things turn around quickly for Dean, though, because the sword slides right on back to his hand! Sam wakes up and directs him in the fight, and soon the shojo is speared by the sword. She disappears in an angry flash of light. Dean looks around afterward. He’s alone - or IS HE? 

Garth wakes up in a pile of rubble. “What’d I miss?” OH GARTH. 

Dean asks Bobby to send him some kind of sign that he’s still around, while Sam lurks secretly in the background - silent witness to his brother’s CONSTANT WELL OF PAIN. There’s no sign from Bobby. 

At the motel, Garth bids them farewell. Dean gets his HUG.

For Too Precious For This World Science:

Garth drives away in a swirl of heart emojis, leaving Sam and Dean to talk FEELINGS. Sam tells Dean that he saw him trying to talk to Bobby in the brewery. Dean feeds Sam an eight layer bean dip of denial coated hope. He’s NOT SAD, he’s FINE - and there’s a whole string of incidents which makes it appear like Bobby’s been helping them along. Sam thinks that Dean’s just grieving - and his grief makes Bobby appear to still be around. Bobby is DEAD. D E A D.  

As they leave the room, the camera pans over to...Bobby! 

Before they drive away, Dean realizes that he left the flask behind in the motel room. He bursts through the door. “There you are,” he says softly, looking towards Bobby, who starts to smile. But Dean walks right past Bobby and grabs the flask, completely unaware of his presence.

Garth Quotesgerald IV:

You’ve been Garthed

I usually don’t even drink beer. It messes with my depth perception. Especially when I skinny dip

Mr. Fizzles is gonna go where the sun don’t shine

Come with me if you want to live!

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[petite-neko]

Nexus of Time - 02

Fanfiction: Nexus of Time Story Summary: Gohan trapped with in the depths of time! Now, Trunks needs to save Gohan and allow him his three years of training… for yet unknown to both of them, Gohan is the future saviour of Earth! But how can Trunks save somebody whom he doesn’t know needs saving? Fandom: Dragon Ball Z Characters: Gohan, M!Trunks, M!17&18, M!Chi-Chi Pairing: Gohan/M!Trunks, M!Gohan/M!Trunks Rating: T Warnings: Violence, Character Death, Angst, PTSD, Universe Alteration Author’s Notes: Also: Feel free to let me know of anything that seems off. As I said, I'm doing some edits to each chapter! Oh, and... fair warning. This story? It's overloaded with angst. I mean it. So much angst.

(I set up a ko-fi account guys! Feel free to donate! Link in blog description!)

(Check source for ao3 link!)

I am sorry to put this here, but due to people who have been stalking and harassing me for a certain type of content:

THIS WORK WILL NOT CONTAIN SHOTA.

NO, I AM NOT GOING TO WRITE YOU A SELF-INSERT FANFICTION.

Leave me alone, you are not welcome here.

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3

Gohan had never heard anything else in regards to the past, or of the creatures that were terrorising the Earth. Grandmother Lodi was adamant on keeping him out of the loop. ‘Don’t you worry’ she would say, ‘it’s better for you not to know.’

He appreciated her concern, he did, but… for him… it was worse not knowing than knowing. It was worse because Gohan knew… he knew of the horrors of the universe, and he knew… he knew that one day, these things would be the death of him.

They would be the death of everybody he knew and cared about. His father, Piccolo… their fighting friends…

Because the only energies he could feel… were the faint energies of his mother, his grandfather, and Roshi... (And he thought Bulma, but he wasn’t too sure. There was some familiar energy coming from where Capsule Corp should be.)

And that was rather unusual. Because for how strong those abominations must be, he could not sense them. Not a trace. In fact… the only time he could was when they attacked.

Because he could feel a disturbance. He could feel as energies fluctuated. As they faded. Slowly… steadily…

(It was… sickening, honestly. Because all he could do was imagine. Imagine just what they were doing to those poor people for their energy to slowly fade like that…)

In fact, his imagination was getting the better of him. It would create scenario after scenario, trying to envision just what kind of creatures could be stronger, and worse than Frieza. (Because Frieza… Frieza did not do this. He killed for fun, he killed for information, but not once did Gohan see or sense him needlessly torturing his victims for any other reason other than information.) They were sadistic. They would torture and torment Earth until all of their toys died out….

And his imagination would try and picture what happened. What had happened to all of his friends – his father…

Him.

So, no, Grandmother Lodi… it was not better not knowing.

And, all of this hiding… it was not doing him any favours either. Because he could see it. See that broken spirit of the old woman before him. He could see it in the eyes of the people around him. As they scurried for their shelters, only admonishing the children that tripped instead of helping them.

Fear. That was what ruled this world.

He wasn’t immune to it either.

No, as the weeks turned into a month, Gohan found himself acting so very similar to the others – but in his own, unique way. In the way that spoke of a person being scared. Because… he was going to die. Maybe not tomorrow… but…

(Because there just wasn’t any other option. There wasn’t. He was the only Gohan who had the ability to turn into a Super Saiyajin.)

And, it only made him wonder, it only made him that much more afraid, because if he, as a Super Saiyajin, couldn’t even defeat these… creatures, what chance did he? As a seven year old child who was terrified of a being far weaker? As somebody who had not made the achievement of a Super Saiyajin?

It was hopeless.

And yet, for whatever masochistic reason, Gohan would sit there, on the rocks he was found on, concentrating on the ki disruption whenever it happened.

“Gohan, dear?”

“…They’re at it again…” He whispered quietly, but he could hear her as she shook his head.

“Oh, Dearie, enough of this nonsense. Come on, come inside. Supper is almost ready.”

However there was something that was making him uneasy. More so than usual.

And it took him a few more minutes to realise just what it was…

They were headed towards where his mother was!

Gohan jolted upright and looked in that direction. His mother – his mother!

“Grandmother Lodi – I’m – ah – afraid I must take my leave now.”

She turned towards him, her eyes soft and sad. “You’re leaving. Did… you regain your memories boy?”

Gohan bit his lip. He certainly did not like playing this charade, but… how could he tell her what he had come to conclude? Especially as she didn’t believe a few things he had mentioned to her already.

“I just – I just need to go home.”

That sad smile reached her face. “Well, I can’t let you go on an empty stomach, now can I? Certainly it can wait…”

He chewed his lip more. “Just for a few minutes…” He would quickly eat, and leave. He could grant her this concern. She had housed him for this last month after all…

And, with food in his stomach Gohan stood up, only to have a firm grip on his arm.

“It’s dangerous out there child… with the Androids…”

She wanted him to stay – and that lightened his heart a bit. Perhaps humanity wasn’t completely ruled by fear after all… He looked down, only feeling that determination swell in his chest once. Androids, huh? Artificial beings… Now it was making sense just why he couldn’t sense them…

Gohan shook his head, smiling up at her. “Thank you. For your hospitality – for everything, but I must go now.”

And, as he left, taking to the skies, he looked back only to see a true smile on her face.

.+++.

Gohan managed to avoid the city that was under attack. In fact, he recognised the route he was taking, as debilitated as it was. He was headed home – not to just where his family was but his actual home.

And, aside from the beat up roof and walls, there was something else that caught his attention.

Stones. No – not just any stones – those were tombstones…

He knew… he knew he should just look away. Ignore them, but his eyes were fixated on them. They were underneath a tree. The tree he remembered climbing. The tree he remembered his dad sleeping against as they fished…

His eyes ran over the first one.

Son Goku, 737-766. Loving Father and husband.

His knees slumped. Two… two years? He was going to lose his dad in two years? That’s… that’s how much longer he had? Two years of happiness… before… before this?

It didn’t feel real anymore. No… not with that deadline. He could have lived with knowing he was going to die in sixteen years. Sixteen years. That was enough time to try and prepare for this… this calamity but… two? Two years?

Because, just how else could his father have died? The man who defeated Frieza…

He found his hands trembling. How? How could chaos be upon them so soon? How could they have just not known? To be blissfully unaware that…

(And, what did that mean for him? To have fought for fourteen years…?)

Suddenly, he didn’t want to look at the other tombstone. He knew… he knew just whose exactly it would be…

“Go-Gohan? N-No, this cannot be!”

Almost – just almost was Gohan relieved for the interruption in his thoughts. That is, until his mother’s form wobbled. “M-Mom…”

She looks so much older…

“Chi-Chi!” The rougher voice of his grandfather called out as he ran towards his mother, catching her before she hit the ground. And then, their eyes met.

“Kami… it’s a ghost!”

“Grandpa!” Finally, Gohan snapped out of it and ran over to them. “I’m not a ghost… at least I don’t think I am…”

“Th-Then what are you?” The Ox-King asked as he held his unconscious daughter.

Gohan looked down at his feet. “I’m Gohan… just not the one from here… I don’t know what happened, but one moment Dad’s coming home from space, and the next I wake up and I end up here… I… well, it looks like I’m in the future? Could you tell me what happened in the last twenty years, after Frieza attacked? From what I could figure out, everybody but me is dead…  and I died four years ago, and there are Androids terrorizing Earth, the dragon balls are gone, and Earth is now powerless against the enemy.”

“No, Earth isn’t powerless. There’s Trunks, he was your pupil.”

“B-But… if I couldn’t defeat them as a Super-Saiyajin, then what hope does a human have?” Gohan asked sadly.

“He’s a Saiyajin too.”

Gohan glanced up in surprise. “He is? I have a brother?”

For the first time did the Ox-King laugh. “No, he’s Vegeta’s child.”

Gohan blinked. “Wait, what! Ve-Vegeta’s?” Suddenly Bulma’s words echoed into his mind. Words that seemed years away…

“Don’t they look alike? Vegeta and that weird kid.”

Gohan’s eyes widened. It couldn’t be…

“Yeah, he’s got purple hair and blue eyes, he gets it from his mother.” The Ox-King seemed to be relaxed, as his family was whole. (Or… at least almost.

Trunks… Gohan thought, letting the name weave itself around in his brain. So that was the name of the young Saiyajin who saved us from Frieza?

Wait, that didn’t make any sense! Trunks was older than he was! How could Trunks be his pupil? Did Vegeta have a child before he came to Earth? Yet, Vegeta seemed surprised about Trunks. What was going on?

“At least he’s got Bulma.”

Gohan’s head was spinning. Bulma? Bulma has… no way! “Wait, wait, wait!” Gohan blubbered, before he remembered his grandfather mentioning Trunks’ hair and eyes were from his mother... “Is Bulma Trunks’ mom?”

The Ox-King nodded with his eyes closed and a smile on his face, oblivious to Gohan’s shock.

That would explain why he wore the Capsule Corporation jacket… Gohan thought, trying to piece everything together. “Grandpa… can you just start from when Frieza attacked? From when Dad came back from space?” Maybe that would be better… he was getting so confused.

The Ox-King nodded and went into his story.

.+++.

Gohan blinked as he absorbed all of the information. His dad… he died from a heart virus, everybody else died when the androids attacked six months later, and that was where he gained the ability of Super Saiyajin. Then, all he did was train and fight. He took Vegeta’s son – Trunks – as a pupil and trained him. They were the last two fighters Earth had, and now the last once he died four years ago. But why was Trunks fighting Frieza, when his dad was supposed to, why was Trunks there when he wasn’t even born yet? Why did Trunks know his dad was supposed to arrive there?

Yet, once Gohan realized when he was, things clicked into place. That machine that Trunks left in was not some spaceship, or an airplane. No, it was a time machine! And, somehow, as he came to this timeline, Gohan was swept up in it and ended up here.

He needed to find this Trunks, and go back to where he belonged.

“Where can I find Trunks?” Gohan asked as he looked up at his grandfather.

“West City, where they always – Oh Chi-Chi!”

Gohan turned to his mom, but realized that she might faint again if he was in the house. “Grandpa? Can you break the news to Mom that I’m… not a ghost?” Gohan said as he snuck quietly over to a wall and hid behind it.

“Oh Chi-Chi! Are you alright?” The Ox-King said as he lifted his daughter up into a sitting position.

However, the aged woman still had some spring as she shot up. “Where’s my Gohan? Where’s my boy?” She said and looked around. And then her face. “…Am I so old that I’m seeing things now?”

And Gohan, confident enough that his appearance wouldn’t send his mother into shock, stepped out of his hiding place. “No… no you’re not Mom.”

Chi-Chi’s head whipped up at the gentle voice of her son. “Oh Gohan… is it really you?”

Gohan’s face had a sad smile. “I’m from the past Mom… I’m not the other Gohan.”

It seemed that it didn’t matter to Chi-Chi though and she stood up to hug her young son. “Oh Gohan… my baby…”

Normally, Gohan would have squirmed out of his mother’s grasp, but he knew that she needed this. Her Gohan was dead, he was that second tombstone, the one Gohan would not - could not -  read. And then, he remembered why he was here in the first place and he looked up into his mother’s eyes. “Mom, you and Grandpa need to get out of here!” How could he have forgotten! “The androids are coming this way, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

In a manner that was too practiced, too casual, Chi-Chi nodded. “Okay. Thanks you for warning me.” She said weakly and kissed the top of his head before walking off in a ritual that, too, was probably honed over the years of terror. “You’re going away, aren’t you?”

Since when was his mother so accepting of him going away? Of going into danger? Since when did she seem so weak? So fragile? Gohan looked down. “Yes… my time needs me Mom…”

“It’s alright honey.” She said while packing bare necessities and memorabilia, in case they could not come home again. “It was… good to see you again.”

Gohan looked down at the ground before he ran up to his mother and encased her in a tight hug. He would prevent this! If only he could go back home, go back to his own time!

“Shh, shhh my dear. You must go, as do I.” Chi-Chi said and ruffled Gohan’s long hair. “But how about we cut your hair first?”

Gohan smiled. “Alright.” He said. He could let her do that, and from the ki disruption, they still were far enough away…

.+++.

“There!” Chi-Chi said. “I say, my talent doesn’t change with age, does it Papa?” The smile on her face was one that looked like it wasn’t used often anymore. (Just like Grandmother Lodi…)

“Yes it doesn’t Chi-Chi!” The Ox-King acknowledged. “But, we all should get going, I’ve contacted Master Roshi, he said he’s waiting for us at the coast.”

Gohan gave one last smile to his remaining family in this time, and took off for West City.

As Gohan flew, something bad was happening not far off. Ki’s were disappearing and he knew that if he continued to fly, he would be found out. He landed and he was near a village in the mountains. He had to be careful when he flew because he knew that if he was caught in the open, there would be no hiding. So he took the mountain route. He ran a hand through his hair.

Thankfully, it wasn’t a repeat of when he left for Namek. So, his mother had learned that taming the natural spikes was neither productive nor reasonable. She had just simple cut off the back end of it, while the front flared out as it always did.

He sighed before hiding behind the mountain. There was an old village there – and people were probably still living in the outskirts and rubble, just as they were where Lodi lived… And the Androids… they were picking them off, one by one… Destroying buildings… rubble… just to find a toy to play with.

He found himself shaking in fear and in hatred. This was just like on Namek, when he hid as he watched Frieza destroy Dende’s village. Yet, here, there was nobody to hold him back except his own fear and his own knowledge. There was no Krillin…

Gohan heard their screams, he heard their cries. And, then a man landed in front of him, hit from a blast, a kick, or something. “R-Run boy…” He said weakly before his own ki faded.

How! How could somebody, something, be so ruthless? How!

Gohan heard footsteps and he froze.

“Man, humans are such weak creatures, are they not?” A female voice said.

“Are you kidding? Sometimes I wished we hadn’t killed Gohan, at least he provided us with some sort of amusement every now and then.” A male voice responded.

Their tones sent shivers down Gohan’s spin as he hid behind a rock. These people… these things were closing in on him. They talked about death as a casual thing, they joked about it, they were the ones who killed him, no his future self.

“Well there’s always his pupil, Trunks or something.” The female said as she kicked the corpse of the man just inches away from him.

“Eighteen, do you see that rock over there?” The man said.

Gohan’s eyes widened. The voice was directed his way.

“Yeah, what’s so interesting about it Seventeen?” The female named Eighteen responded.

“Well, I think there’s some wild hair behind it.” Seventeen said and the footsteps came closer. Then, they stopped and a very human-like hand grasped his hair.

Gohan gasped and struggled before coming face-to-face with his killers, his very human-looking killers.

“Why… fancy that. This kid is the spitting image of Gohan.” Seventeen said. “I wonder… maybe he’s his son?”

Eighteen placed her hands on her hips. “What does it matter? Just kill him already.”

“Well, you see, if he is Gohan’s son, then maybe he’ll provide us with some fun. It’s getting boring killing humans without their Superhero to protect them. This Trunks character just isn’t as strong as Gohan was, even without the arm.” Seventeen then turned his blue eyes towards Gohan. “So tell me kid, are you Gohan’s?”

Why Gohan had the impulse to reply to them, he didn’t know. Perhaps it had to do with the fear that made his blood feel like lead. Perhaps it was due to the fact that if he told him that he was Gohan… they would kill him – and he had to get back. Had to get home so he could warn everybody…

So, he nodded.

Then an evil smirk graced Seventeen’s face. “Well look at that! He is Gohan’s brat!” He said before letting go of Gohan’s hair. “So kid, show me what you got! Comon! I’ll let you live if you pass the test, so you gotta give it your all.”

Gohan stared at them in fright. Pass the test? Did he have to become Super Saiyajin? How could he? How? Yet, if he didn’t do anything, Gohan knew he was going to die. So he took a deep, shaky breath and let all of his power come to him.

[savaanrp-blog]

His Story: 

Rohan was trained in murder long before he came across the Virmani’s. His stepfather was a drug lord and didn’t waste any time bringing Rohan into work. His mother, oblivious with a terrible addiction to heroin was blissfully unaware of the horrible tasks her son had to perform at the ripe old age of fifteen. By seventeen, Rohan was broken. He couldn’t sleep as he was haunted by the souls he had taken and he couldn’t leave because he was afraid of what his stepfather might do to his mother if he did. So he stayed. At twenty, he began hearing about a group called the underground coming to Goa. He didn’t really care at the time. All his emotions had been long gone and he was now a stone cold killer. Protecting his mother was his only real mission. One day, while on a job, his team was taken out by a few men. As if it was the easiest thing in the world, Rohan killed the men, all without getting a single drop of blood on himself. When he turned to the last man he was surprised. The man had a smile on his face. He introduced himself as Abhinav Virmani and explained that this all had been a test to know if the rumours he’d heard were true. He had a proposition. He would take out his stepfather’s entire operation and save his mother if Rohan agreed to work for him. Rohan thought the man was insane for trusting him, but he agreed. What did he have to lose? Abhinav was true to his word. Before Rohan even made it home, he received a phone call from his mother telling him that everyone was dead. She was frantic. Hysteric even. Rohan tried to calm her down but it was too late. The paranoia had driven her to believe that the men would be back for her and she preferred to escape them herself. Rohan heard the gun shot through the phone and he felt as if his entire world had shattered around him. He had nothing. It was all gone. Everything that he’d tried to protect. He called Abhinav to tell him that the deal was off but his new boss wouldn’t take no for an answer. Instead, he urged Rohan to join them. Promised that they were a family. That they were different. And they were. Although he is still just as cold and just as skilled in assassination as before, Rohan was almost happy now, and he hoped that his mother was somewhere happy too, watching over him, away from all the danger. 

His Relationships:

When Abhinav brought Aryan back to the underground and introduced the two of them, Rohan figured he was just another kid who had seen too much. One that would be far too afraid of the underground to survive. Another one that he’d have to bring out back and take care of. But Aryan’s enthusiasm surprised him. His awful jokes and bright outlook brought out a softer side in Rohan. He didn’t want this one to die. Determined, he did everything in his power to give Aryan the skills he needed to survive in the game without tainting his personality. To this day, Aryan doesn’t know that Abhinav had given Rohan the clearing to end his life if that’s what was necessary. Luckily, Rohan’s hard work paid off, and now he and Aryan are regularly sent on assignments together as a unit. A relationship that may be a little riskier was his relationship with Abhinav’s youngest daughter, Anya. Often, he was asked to accompany her here and there for protection, but he found himself intrigued by the girl. Obsessed almost. She had a smile that had him following her every order and he knew that he would put a bullet into anyone’s head that tried to hurt her. Not that she’d be too happy about that. Rohan is also surprisingly close to Aryan’s sister, Sunaina. After one particularly scarring event, Aryan convinced him to join him in having dinner with his sister, as they both needed a bit of space from the underground. Sunaina immediately took Rohan in as if he was her own brother and made sure to let him know that she was always here for him. Although she isn’t completely aware of the work that the two of them do, she’s always inviting them over for dinner and making sure that they’re well taken care of. Having that kind of connection means a great deal to Rohan, and she’s definitely another soul that he’d kill for without hesitation. 

His Involvement: 

Rohan is one of the men Abhinav trusts completely. He knows that since he doesn’t have any family, his loyalties lie completely with the underground and that meant everything in Abhinav’s eyes. Aside from leading various attacks on rival groups and training newcomers, Rohan is generally in charge of affairs when Abhinav isn’t in India. At first, he struggled with the business side of the underground despite his prior experiences in the drug trade due to a lack of education but Abhinav made sure to invest time and money in getting Rohan prepared for everything he had to handle. He now knows the business like the back of his hand and Abhinav wouldn’t trust anyone else with the task.

The role of Rohan Sharma is currently open / taken / reserved 

[ecotone99]

[SF] Imperfect Unhumans.

“Most days, I wake up and wonder if the machine has taken over. If today is the day I'll start walking around without control, a passenger in my own body.”

Jacken stroked his daughter’s brown hair as she snuggled against him, careful to use only his human hand. Hilda’s head was laid against his chest, half-off her bed, various tubes and monitors positioned on the other side. Turned away from her, his bulky machine arm hung stiffly, deactivated like all his other parts.

“Is that why you’re always so sad, daddy?”

He smiled sadly at her, wishing inside that he could just make all her worries go away. Little girls shouldn’t have to be worried about their daddies when their own problems were much worse.

“No, honey. They call that having a conscience.”

She struggled with the word, before giving up and not asking, likely determined to look it up herself once he was gone.

“It means I've done bad things and I'm sad about them.”

“Does that make it okay to do bad things? Being sad about them later?”

“No. Not really.”

“Then why did you do them?”

“I keep asking myself that. Maybe the blame is on the people who sent me to war knowing I'd fail. Maybe it's on the people who kept me prisoner and did bad things to me. Maybe the doctor who cut away me and put the machine there. Maybe the machine itself. Or maybe it's me and I don’t want to admit that.”

She puzzled that over, a young girl trying to make sense of concepts and questions that haunted nearly every soldier out there. She looked so small and frail next to her father's bulky form. So fragile. He wanted to hug her, pull her close, but couldn’t, for fear that he might break her.

“Flip a coin on it.”

“Really?”

“Yes. If you can’t figure out who did it, flip a coin on it. It's what May did.”

The mention of Jacken's sister made his chest clench, old anger bubbling to the surface. But he was with the only person he loved in the world, so he forced the venom and bile back down, determined not to show his daughter what a hateful man he had become.

“It’s a nice idea, sweetie, it really is. But life isn’t that easy. We know that.”

“Okay.”

Gently pulling his scarred hand through her hair, he let his child nestle against him, finding some safety in a man she hadn’t known for the first four years of her life. Four years he’d missed and would never get back.

A slow, steady beeping came from a nearby monitor, signalling that it was time for her to rest. Despite being a vibrant bundle of energy when she was awake, his daughter spent most of the day asleep. Unaware and blissfully unfeeling as serums and machines around her tried to fix her body.

His Oone burly arm scooping her up, Jacken drew up the blankets up over her small, stunted legs and tucked her in, bending down to kiss her goodnight as the medication put her under. He stood, reactivating his mechanical parts before carefully picking his way through the room, gazing out at a gloomy sky before pulling the curtains closed.

Looking back at his daughter’s sleeping form, he felt guilt tear into his chest with barbed talons, clawing and accusing.

If only he'd been there when Tanya was pregnant and looked after her. If only he had known he would have a child. If only he hadn’t ran away to fight in some war half a world away.

If only.

Head hanging, he turned and stomped from the room, pausing only to whisper that he loved her when he got to the old oaken door. Turning sideways to get through, he gently pulled it shut behind himself.

“Mother has invited you to dinner.”

The gravelly voice came from nowhere, nearly causing him to flinch in surprise. Careful not to appear surprised, although they both knew he was, he turned to face his 'brother'.

“Richard. Why are you here?” His voice was taut. Tense to the point of snapping.

“Mother has invited you to dinner. Must I repeat myself?”

“No.”

“No? Surely you jest.” The last word had all the dripping scorn in the world forcefully inserted into it, spoken as if to a particuarly stupid kid.

Resisting the urge to grab to grab and throttle the spindly little prick, Jacken took deep, heavy breaths as he forced down his rage. Goddamn machine had left him half a man, but he could still break this smug little prick if he wanted. He had lines, though. And violence this close to Hilda was one he wasn’t about to cross.

“Tell the old crone to take her invitation, spread her fat asscheeks and sit on it.”

Richard blinked.

“You were invited.” He accused, making it sound like the greatest honour in the world.

“I don’t care.” And he didn’t. So far as Jacken was concerned, the old bitch was the entire reason this fucked-up family was as damaged as they were.

Smartly stepping around the corner ahead of them, another Richard curtly smiled and addressed the man standing before Jacken.

“Master. Your presence is needed in the garden. Mis-“

Richard waved him off halfway through.

“Yes, Eighth, I know. I will be there momentarily. Shoo.” Again, he addressed the clone like he was talking to a dog, dismissing him out of hand. The clone vanished down a hallway without another word.

“You must go. You simply cannot refuse. The rules of the house dictate it.” Pulling out a tiny, barely held together yellow book, he waved it at Jacken like it was supposed to intimidate him.

Jacken scoffed at that.

“You still follow the fucking rules? They were made by a mean old bitch to keep young kids in line. Nobody takes them seriously anymore. It's time to grow up, Richard.”

“You. You*. You're a murderer! We let you in our house. You're a disgrace!”*

“Yeah, I probably am. Better than being an emotionally mangled man-child like you. Waited on hand and foot by clones. What do you sort them by anyway? Expiry date?”

Richard's flushed in anger as he glared at Jacken.

“How dare you.”

“I dare.” He growled back. “Call me a murderer, but you're no better. Pretend like they’re not living people all you like, but we both know you’re a worse monster than I'll ever be.”

“Enough.”

They'd gotten so heated that Jacken hadn’t even seen Hans until he was right behind him.

“You were called. Go. If you want your progeny to remain in Josie's care.”

The giant of a man spoke softly and simply, but his tone carried more warning and danger than Richard's red-faced screaming ever could. His bulk filled the entire corridor, head bent to squeeze through. Jacken idly wondered what the old bitch had done to the scientist who made Hans this big. Probably killed him after she got his secrets. So she and she alone had the knowledge.

Lips curling in a snarl, he was about to tell Hans to go fuck himself when it occurred that more of the others might be nearby. Daniel, Shikke, Linda and Walter would all be lurking in other corridors if the old bitch was serious about dragging him to meet her.

Richard, he could break with one hand. Hans was more of a challenge, but he'd bet on himself, if by a slim margin. All the other piling on him, though? Not too good. And the threat against his daughter was clear. If the old hag said it, Josie would stop keeping her stable. Josie always did as she was told. The only decent person in this house, and she had all the willpower of a half-eaten cracker. Then, it wouldn’t matter if Jacken killed the old bitch herself. He would already have lost everything.

Gritting his teeth, he stomped away, making sure to viciously shoulder Richard aside, leaving him muttering at his back and clutching the tattered rulebook.

The old crone wanted to talk? Fine, he'd take all her usual bullshit. Then shove it right down her throat, along with his fist.

***

“Fatter than ever, Bertha. Should I have a card prepared when your stomach staples burst?”

Mother grunted and looked up, regarding him as if eyeing some unsightly vagrant on the street.

“About time. I was worried they removed your brains when they cut off the rest of you.”

“You’ve never been worried about anything but yourself. Don’t pretend otherwise.” Jacken sat in a small, uncomfortable chair, facing the mountain of flesh that called itself Mother in this house.With no hair, crooked teeth and gums swollen with infection, her head reminded the man-machine of a rather nasty arsehole.

“You and your spawn live under my roof. At my expense. Taking valuable time from one of my daughters. But you can’t find it in you to be civil? Shame on you.”

“I can find it in me to be honest. What do you want?”

“A mother can’t see her son without reason?”

His mechanical arms curled around the arm of the chair, slowly crushing it under unfeeling metal.

“You’re no mother of mine. You never have, and never will be. You ruined this house and this family.” Painting a mocking smile on his face, he continued. “So talk all you want, but your words have no hold on me.”

She was showing signs of understanding now. Hidden in the folds of fat that covered her face, but he could still spot them.

“Whatever happened to my sweet boy? You were never this hateful. What changed you.”

“The small, naïve boy learned the truth and couldn’t handle it. So he ran away and went to war, to escape you. But war is a horrible place, and the small, naïve boy died there, replaced by a man. That man came home to find he had a daughter.”

“So I’m to take that your spawn is the only reason I haven’t seen the last of you?”

“Sounds about right.”

“What about the girl's mother?”

“What about her? She’s dead to me.”

“And you’re sure that you don’t need more insightful looks at the situation?” Her voice was soft now, sweet and honeyed. He recognized that tone, faintly. The one she always used to calm them.

He was feeling a bit relaxed now. Maybe the old broad wasn’t as bad as he'd remembered.

“Sure, why not?”

Another smile curled the corner of her lips, almost unnoticeable to the eye.

“Well, to do that, I must have context. Why did you leave?”

A shrug.

“Don’t quite know, honestly. It wasn’t one big reason. Bunch of small stuff adding up over time. Weird things I noticed. How other kids grew up and had some freedom, left home. But you kept us close. Too close. So I left.”

“And shipped off the Russo-Sino war. Where you got captured.”

Her voice was soft, soothing. Comfortable. Safe. Like he could tell her anything.

“I did. Didn’t take long either. Walked right into an ambush in my first month. They killed everyone else, just not me.” He shook his head as if trying to clear something. “Spent the next few months getting tenderized by the chinks. Lemme tell you, little bastards really know how to get in your head. Literally. After they had me beaten down into a lifeless sack of meat..well, the operating table was worse.”

He shuddered somewhat as the memories came bubbling up. She urged him on, her voice making the pain go away.

“Didn’t even have the fucking decency to knock me out before they put me under the scissors. Never screamed so much in my life. Two, three big snips, and I didn’t have my arm and leg anymore. Or some of my organs.”

He held up his mechanical arm, peeling away the shirt to show her the fused flesh.

“Bastards welded that to me. Connected the cables, pulled out some sort of weird welder, and got to work. I was past screaming then. In shock. Heart had stopped a few times. When I came to, I wasn’t myself anymore. Had this thing attached to me. They put something in my head, tried taking it for a test run.” He grinned savagely at the memory. “Bad idea.”

Mother leaned forward, a mildly impressive feat, smiling sweetly. Her voice was as calming as rain on the rooftops, like honey and sunlight distilled into beer.

“So, tell me more about this 'machine' inside you.”

Jacken found that he was nodding, smiling as he had a pleasant chat with his mother.

“Well, to start with, it-“ He paused. “Well, to start-.”

Clearing his throat, he tried again.

“The thing is-.“

There was a burst of pain and red light, a shock going through his system, recordings of the last few minutes playing through his mind in an instant. Something cold and calculating stirred in the part of his brain that wasn’t human anymore.

The sound of wood splintering came from the chair underneath him, the arm of the stool crushed in an instant.

A distorted voice spoke through his mouth.

“Use that power on this body again, and I will burn everything and everyone you love to ashes and scatter them in the wind.”

Then it was gone, just like that.

Holding up a fistful of broken wood, Jacken dropped it before her and stood.

“Jacken died fighting another man's war. He died on the battlefield. He died in the chinese torture chambers. He died on the operating table. All that is left is me. Me and the machine.”

“And the machine sees you and all your honeyed lies.”

***

That night, Jacken did as he did every other night. He sat with his daughter, rough voice talking to her, trying to sing her a lullaby.

But deep inside, he wondered if it was actually him, or the machine.

Did he really want to know?

Holding his daughter close, he decided it was best if that question was never answered.

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