#this laptop was running like it was on dial up...but we got here.......

[briankang]

A Day in the Life of Bang Chan 💫

Happy 27th Birthday, Chan! 💕 Thank you for always being the most shining star in the galaxy ✨

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[arjwrites]

Take A Picture, It'll Last Longer- Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: While hunting with the Winchesters, you had picked up a disposable camera to capture some memories. Each photo represented an important point in your collective journey- all the while, hinting at a budding connection behind the scenes.  Warnings: None! Largely gn, but reader is occasionally referred to as "she." Slight language here and there, mostly just silly fluff! A/N: Another idea of mine that has been kicking around for a while. I hope the Sam crew appreciates this! <3

“Alright boys, hold up those shovels!!” You were perched on top of a neighboring gravestone, disposable camera held close to your face.

“You’re kidding, right? We are literally desecrating a grave, and you’re snapping pictures? This could be used as evidence one day!” Of course Sam was throwing sass. He could never just sit there and look pretty for you.

“C’mon, we’ve gotta preserve this stuff for posterity! Sam and Dean Winchester, in their natural habitat!” you laughed. 

Dean, in sharp contrast to his brother’s protests, instantly struck a pose, slinging the shovel over one shoulder and gazing dramatically to the horizon like an action hero. Huffing, realizing he was outnumbered on this matter, Sam limply lifted the shovel in one hand, popped a thumbs-up with the other hand, and slapped a forced, sarcastic smile on his face.

“Perfect! Now they’ll also get to witness each of your unique brands of bullshit!” 

Sam crossed his arms in a (slightly) feigned offense, looking to Dean for backup. Dean simply shrugged- “I mean, she’s got us there. That’s pretty much our bullshit in a nutshell.” 

Sam fought hard to stifle the smile that was working its way to the surface. She knew them too well. 

–

“What are you looking at?” Your voice broke the silence that had been dragging on for longer than you even remembered. The question had came out a little sassy, which you didn’t intend, but you were feeling a little defensive. There was no way Sam was staring at you for any good reason. You were nested against the arm of one of the motel couches, piled high in lore books, researching while sporting an unbrushed head of hair and last night’s pajamas. It was noon. Not your best look. 

“Nothing, nothing. Sorry.” He held your gaze just a moment longer before returning to his work, smiling down into his laptop. You hummed, satisfied, until you felt his eyes peek back up at you. 

“Hey, take a picture, Winchester! It’ll last longer!” You laughed, hiding your hint of insecurity with a bit of sass. It was a joke- completely a joke, and you thought Sam had taken it as such, until…

“You know what? You’re right. Don’t move a muscle.” Sam held his hands out as if to freeze you in your current position, turning on the dramatics as he backed away slowly before spinning on his heels to run to your side of the room.   

“Sam-”

“I said don’t move!” He taunted over his shoulder. 

You heard Sam rustling through your bag, but you didn’t dare turn to look- you figured you’d humor him and comply with the ridiculous request. Sam returned to his perch on the couch across from you, a grin adorning his face and the camera looking comically small in his large hand. He cranked the dial, lined it up with his right eye, and called out- “Say cheese!”

“Cheeeeeese!” You laughed, bathing in the blinding brightness- both from the camera’s flash and Sam’s mile-wide smile. If only the photo had been captured from your point of view- you could stare at that face forever. 

–

“Alright everyone, gather around!” Dinner was finished, the dishes were done, a fresh round of beers were cracked. What better time for you to call for a little family photo?

“Here we go again with the paparazzi,” Bobby gruffed, ruffling your hair as he passed you. 

“Excuse me, it’s called being the family historian. We need to record this touching memory!” 

“Alright alright, get over here, everyone,” scolded Sam with a lighthearted tone. Having him on your side was helpful- his long arms corralled the whole crew with ease, gathering everyone in front of the couch. You smiled a silent thank you, and he winked at you in return, sending your heart aflutter. 

While the team of men behind you figured out the ideal photo formation amongst themselves, you prepped the camera, winding the dial and propping it up on the tv stand while making sure to get the angle just right. After this there would only be one picture left on the camera- you had to make sure to save it for something really good. 

Dean stood behind the couch, arms draped over the shoulders of Bobby to his left and Cas to his right. While Dean was already cheesing, Bobby and Cas weren’t quite as natural in front of the camera- it was taking them a second to settle in. Sam, however, was sat down on the couch, arms outstretched to beckon you in. Eager to get the picture taken, you clicked the button to trigger the countdown.

“Alright, we’ve got ten seconds everyone!” You raced over to plop yourself down next to Sam, who almost instictively wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in as close as possible. You tensed a bit, nerves on fire due to your intimate proximity to him, but your face beamed with joy. In the last few seconds before the photo snapped, Sam pressed a sneaky, soft kiss to the side of your head, returning to his former pose just before the final flash went off. Though you were able to calm your bugging eyes in the nick of time, there was little you could to stop the searing heat that flushed to your cheeks. God, you hoped that wouldn’t show up in the picture.

–

It had been a few months since any of you had so much as thought about that camera. Life had gotten a bit busy, to say the least. The end of the world had brought with it plenty of trials and tribulations, and left very little time for photo ops. That being said, you had finally reached a long awaited moment of peace. Things had died down, and there was a brief moment for you and the Winchesters to catch your breath and lay low for a bit. 

It was well past midnight, and a quiet had fallen over the bunker- not the usual tense, fearful, impending-doom type of quiet. This was much more peaceful. Typically, at this hour of the night, the three of you would still be up researching or figuring out plans for your next move. Tonight, however, Dean had been able to hole himself up in his room for a while, trying to get some kind of sleep, which wasn’t usually an option for him. After dozing off and on unsuccessfully for a few hours, he emerged from his room, in search of something he knew would help knock him right out- a snack. 

Drudging down the hall, Dean was drawn away from his intended destination after noticing the blue glow and soft buzz still emitting from the television. Thinking Sam had left it on before heading to bed, Dean rerouted his path in order to switch it off, mumbling to himself that this was not his job. His frustration remained up until he was able to fully take in the scene in front of him. There on the couch lay you and Sam, fast asleep. Sam’s massive frame dwarfed yours as he held you from behind, face firmly planted in your hair. One of your arms curved in front of you to wrap itself around Sam’s, and the other flopped off the couch, the TV remote dangling loosely in your grasp. Dean felt far too sappy even thinking it, but he could’ve sworn he had never seen either of you two so peaceful. 

After smiling down on the two of you for a few seconds shy of creepy, Dean had a realization. He tiptoed out, careful not to disturb you two, and beelined for a little something he had recently discovered, stashed in a junk drawer. The disposable camera, long forgotten, with only the space for one serendipitous photo remaining. “Finally, you two,” Dean whispered, punctuating his sentence with the quiet click of the camera. He’d been betting on this for months, and now, you and Sam could never live it down.

[i-heart-yellowstone]

40 - State of Emergency

Part 41

Raised Fair Share of Hell

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Alissa’s pov

Pressing my phone to my ear it went straight to my daughter’s voicemail inbox making me sit my phone down and grabbing one of the glasses near the living room bar, throwing it harshly against the nearest wall.  “Argh!” 

“That glass belonged to my father’s grandfather.” Beth spoke typing away on her laptop while sitting on the living room couch. 

Stomping my boots on the wooden floor I glared at my sister in law, not in the mood for her snarky joking at the moment.  “Bethany, I’m in no mood.  My daughter hasn’t called me back yet and she said she would after she checked on her boyfriend in the hospital.” 

“Are you sure she isn’t occupied with sharing his bed?” She raised a glass of whiskey while taking a drink. 

Gagging at the thought I felt immediately uncomfortable at the thought.  “That’s disgusting, Beth.  And my daughter wouldn’t immediately lose her virginity to that boy like you did to your husband.” 

“Kayce got you pregnant on the first go-around.” She smirked in my direction before the front door opened and my husband walked into the living room holding up his phone.

Rushing over to his side I clasped my hands together hoping he had some good news.  “Have they heard anything about our girl?” 

“Nope.  The whole Bunkhouse gang has tried calling her.  Dad, your mom, your sister have too and got nothing back.  We’re starting to run out of options here.” 

Running my hands through my hair I paced back and forth in the living room in front of the grand fireplace.  I know it had only been 24 hours but it was still too long for her to not tell us if she was okay and give us an update on her boyfriend.  “We gotta call our dude in Texas.  He can go to Tech and see if she’s there.  Because we know it would be hours before we ever get off the plane if we left right now.” 

“Jimmy?” Kayce raised a brow hearing me say the great state of Texas. 

Shaking my head, I slumped my shoulders, taking my phone off the coffee table.  “Call him.  But he’s not the only guy we know in Texas.” 

“Please not that childish horse trainer, Lissa.” Beth put a hand to her forehead groaning at the memory of when she had to go ask for his help and he nearly had her play strip poker with him. 

Looking over at her I switched my focus to my husband who was waiting for an answer.  “Travis.” 

“Oh geez.  I guess we don’t have another option do we.” Kayce removed his hat, running his fingers through his hair, taking out his phone searching for his number.  He put the phone to his ear dialing the Texan.  “Travis, this is Kayce Dutton. I need you to go to Tech and see if my daughter is there.  She’s not answering any of our calls here.  Give me a call when you find her.” He put the phone away draping his arm around my waist when I walked over laying my head on his chest hoping she would be okay. 

Kayce, Tate, Madeline and I were sitting in the stands in the arena with John getting ready to watch our oldest daughter perform in her segment of the rodeo show today in Texas.   Ever since she was in middle school we had started letting her practice with Travis Wheatley.  

John had bought horses from him and he had shown them on the road to provide our ranch with some extra money if we ever needed it.  Now he's been teaching my daughter the rodeo life ever since.  Currently in her sophomore year of homeschool she had begun making a title for herself on how good she performed ‘County Rodeo Queen’. 

I could see Travis talking to our daughter who was sitting on her horse inside the shoot waiting for the buzzer to go off.  I could imagine he was telling her what he told her the first time she was really nervous.  “It’s just you and a horse doing a job tryin’ like hell to not let the other down.” 

The buzzer went off and at the same time a caff and my daughter bolted out into the dirt arena.  She chased after the small animal reaching down with her freehand to twirl her lasco, throwing it out and having it wrap around the cattle’s back legs.  “That’s another impressive time slot for Faith Dutton from Montana.” The announcer declares and the crowd cheers proudly. 

“That’s our girl.” Kayce grinned in my direction while holding up Madeline so she could see over the crowd. 

Madeline clapped her hands at the age of six. “Sissy.” 

Tate and John were talking about the rest of the show while I made my way down to the shoots seeing my daughter talking with Travis until he saw me coming up to them.  “Alissa, hey.  Have you talked with her about what she wants to do once she’s done with school?” 

“Not really.  We’ve just been letting her try out new experiences.  Why do you ask?” I crossed my arms over my chest. 

The horse trainer chuckled looking over at my daughter posing with a little girl who wanted to pet her horse.  “She’s got a future in this business.  I mean she’s literally becoming Queen Rodeo from Montana.” 

“That’s a big compliment coming from you.  I’ll talk with her about it if she mentions it.  But Kayce and I agreed we’re going to let our kids choose their paths in life.” 

Travis nodded in understanding.  “Well I’ll be here if she ever needs anything.” 

“I’ll remember that. Thank you.” 

Texas Tech 

Caroline was sitting on her bed inside her dorm room until the door was suddenly kicked opened where it nearly broke from the hinges by the force of the impact.  She jumped up into the air with a shriek, grabbing her lamp off her desk ready to hit someone with it.  “Ahh! What the fuck?” 

“Where is she.  Where’s Faith Dutton?” She watched an older guy stomp into her room completely dressed in cowboy clothing and his hands clenched into fists. 

Caroline held the lamp tightly in her hands.  “Uh hello.  I’m not answering any questions until you tell me who the hell you are.” 

“Travis Wheatley, I’m a family friend of the Dutton’s.” He introduces himself seeing the lamp in her hands.  “I’m not here to hurt you. I just need to know where my little Rodeo Queen is at.” 

Caroline lowered the lamp.  “Um…she left with an older guy at 8am yesterday morning.  But she hasn’t come back yet.  I assumed she'd just been in class all day.  Why did something happen to her?” 

“How old was this mystery guy?” 

She ran a hand through her hair.  “Elderly looking age.” 

“Thank you, young lady.” Travis took out his phone shutting the dorm door behind him taking his phone call out into the hallway.  “I need to put out a missing person report on an eighteen year old girl that has brown hair and green eyes.  Her name is Faith Rae Dutton and she was last scene with an elderly guy leaving Texas Tech at 8am.” 

“We’ll start the investigation, sir.” A 911 operator responded back to him. 

The door behind him got flung opened causing Travis to shift his attention to the teenage girl.  “Hey! Are you going to look for her?” 

“Yeah.  I am.  Why the fuck do you want to know?” 

Caroline snapped back at him.  “I wanna go with you to look for her.” 

“You just told me the description of the guy.  I think I can handle this on my own.”

Caroline crossed her arms over her chest glaring at the taller cowboy in front of her.  “I know some guy who is related to the guy I gave you a description for.  My roommate is dating a boy named Cooper Norris and his father works on the oil rigs.”

“What’s this guys name?” Travis asked. 

She scratched her head thinking quickly.  “Tommy Norris, I think.”

 

“Okay then let’s go.  Find me his address cause we’re driving to his fucking house to make sure he ain’t hurting my little rodeo buddy.” Caroline grab her keys chasing after the cowboy who was stomping out of the building, clearly on a mission. 

[notasouleater]

Take A Sip From My Cup Chapter 3

Chapter 2 Chapter 4

Ao3

Notes: 3,252 words. Where do they keep coming from. I don't write long form I don't understand

Odaiba Station was a long walk after work. Far out of Wizardmon’s way, and Gatomon’s too, so he really insisted on not wanting a ride. It was fully abandoned for years, covered in moss, and eerily quiet away from the city. Well worth the walk.

Wizardmon worked his way through the abandoned buildings, his own desire paths now covered in snow that muffled his steps. The wind was making the already frigid environment even colder, so he headed to the lee side of the main building, not heading inside but sitting in what was once a window, hidden under the overhang of a sky bridge. It was a nice spot, protected from most of the snow and chill, but allowing him to look out over the space.

He pulled out his laptop and began to work. He let the atmosphere around him give him inspiration with its haunted feel. Completely silent except the muffled wind and… footsteps. Wizardmon’s head darted up to take in the figure making its way steadily towards him. Then he broke into a soft smile.

“Mr. Ishida!”

“Wizardmon! I was hoping to see you here,” the older (not old!) man called back, coming over to sit with him. “You don’t come out as much in the snow.”

“It is a bit more difficult to walk,” Wizardmon conceded, before interrupting himself with a sneeze.

“You sure that’s the only reason?”

Wizardmon waved off his concern, “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Mhm,” Mr. Ishida hummed, eyebrow raised. “You’re not invulnerable, you know.”

“You sound like Gatomon. A few sneezes do not mean anything.”

“If you say so. How is your friend?”

“She is the same as ever.”

Mr. Ishida raised an eyebrow at that.

“She is well .”

“Still banning you from drinking hot sauce at work?” Mr. Ishida grinned.  

“She’s getting close to banning even mixed drinks now,” Wizardmon sighed. “To prevent me from ‘corrupting the youth’”

“I mean, with what you’ve told me about the kids-”

“I encourage experimentation. Supervised experimentation.”

Mr. Ishida laughed. “You should teach them some of your street magic.”

“I have already promised them balloon animals,” Wizardmon responded with amusement. “Though perhaps they will take an interest! And how are things at your profession?”

“Ah y’know Fiji, working me to the bone. I’ve been pitching an anniversary newspiece though, history of the station, and I’m hoping we can film around here for it.”

“Will you report it?”

“Bah, ask me if they decide to actually run it,” Mr. Ishida huffed. “Though in other news, you won’t believe what I’ve got!”

The man gave a mischievous grin as he reached into his work bag, pulling out a bottle.

“Burn unit?” Wizardmon read off the label.

“It’s a new green sauce! We got samples at work and it’s pretty good. Here-” Mr. Ishida opened the bottle and held it out towards him, “try some.”

He took some sauce on his finger and tasted it. Spicy! And a little sweet. 

“Excellent,” he nodded. “Thank you Mr. Ishida.”

He groaned. “That makes me sound so old. How many times have I told you to just call me Hiroaki?”

“Numerous.”

Mr. Ishida just shook his head. “Anyways, if you like it you should keep it, they gave me more than I really can use with just my son and me, even if I like it.”

“Oh…” Wizardmon took the bottle. “Thank you. Hiroaki.”

He just laughed in response. 

-   -   -   -

Wizardmon was definitely sick.

He hadn’t wanted to admit it. He woke up to an alarm that was much too loud, a sore throat, and aching muscles. He shut off the alarm, but leaned back instead of getting right up. He was still so tired, and just wanted to rest for a few minutes before getting up. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again it was two hours later.

Crap.

He had several texts from Gatomon, as well as a missed call he scanned over while hurrying across his room. He dialed her back, balancing as he tried to change into day clothes at the same time as holding the phone.

“Hello-”

“Wizardmon!” she hissed, “where are you?”

“My apologies,” he croaked, and oh he needed water, “I had alarm trouble. I should be there in no more than 30 minutes.”

Silence.

“Wizardmon. Are you sick? ”

“No, I am-”

“You sound like shit, and you told me you usually wake up before your alarm,” she insisted. “Did you sleep through it?”

He hesitated. “I may have… fallen back asleep,” he admitted.

“You’re definitely sick. Don’t tell me you were planning on still coming in.”

“Of course I am. It’s not that bad, and I can’t leave you alone .”

“Pumpkinmon and Gatsmon are already working today. They should-” she sighed, “they should be adequate. They aren’t completely useless, you know.”

“But-”

“Do you want to set a bad example? As the Staff Safety Officer? For the kids? ”

“...that was a low blow.”

“Good. I don’t want to see you again until you’re fine,” she ordered, “and if I do I will be taking you right back home. You know I can.”

He sighed, but he was too tired to actually argue. “Yes, I am familiar with your wrestling skills. Alright. But call me if there are any emergencies.”

“You are off-duty -”

“Gatomon.”

She sighed. “Fine. But it will be. Fine that is. Get some rest.”

With that she hung up the phone and he was left to his own devices. Well. His and Tailmon’s devices. His throat still hurt.

Alright then. Priorities. He gave in and went first to his medicine cupboard, pulling out cold n flu medicine on his way to the kitchen where he got himself water. His throat still felt rough after, but better. The breakfast for Tailmon, weaving through his feet as he went to her bowl, then breakfast for himself. He settled on the couch with a quickly toasted bagel, deciding that just because he wasn’t going into work didn't mean he couldn’t get anything done.

This plan immediately failed.

Tailmon was taking advantage of his being home, and planted herself right in his lap, covering his computer screen and twisting to continue doing so no matter how he tried to adjust. He was finally able to settle leaning over the armrest and onto the table which he slid over for that purpose, but found himself unable to focus. It was hard to understand what he was doing, and the longer he stared the more the screen hurt his eyes even on the dimmest setting, pixel art bleeding together in front of his eyes. He gave up barely 20 minutes in.

He looked down at the cat curled contentedly on his lap, definitely smug now that he’d returned to a sensible seated position. “You were also attempting to get me to rest, huh,” he murmured.

It was, he had to admit, unusual the amount of attention Tailmon was giving him. She was usually pretty happy with just sitting near him, taking his lap only when she wanted attention. Now though she was firmly planted and purring, clear she wouldn’t be moving even when he stopped petting her. He scritched under her cheek, looking into her face as she moved it into his hand.

“Does this remind you of how we met?” he wondered.

It’s a memory that sits sharply against all the events around it. He remembers being wheeled away and spotting the scraggly white cat near his car, blue eyes burning into him. Then he’d spotted her hanging around his apartment building later, easy to recognize. He’d asked around, but no one else had seemed to have ever even seen her besides him. He’d felt almost like the cat was checking in on him. Soon enough he was feeding the stray, then caught her to take in to a local shelter. He’d meant to leave her there after getting her vaccinated and spayed, where she could find someone that could properly care for a pet. But she’d started yowling the second he tried to walk away, and he couldn’t do it.

He didn’t think he would make a very good pet owner, but he’d pulled himself together to do all the research he could and do right by her. She trained him herself, really, where he was lacking, batting at him until he got up to make food for them both until it became routine. She was a proud creature, and he certainly thought she had the right to be so.

Wizardmon yawned as pet Tailmon, pulling him back to the present.

“You’re a good cat,” he said, hand slowing.

The longer he sat there the more he felt the ache in his bones, offset by the pressure on his lap. It’s not like he was getting anything done anyway, not with a cat on his lap, and he felt his head drift down to rest on the back of the couch. His eyes slid shut, and soon enough the low sound of Tailmon’s purring carried him off to sleep.

-   -   -   -

“Glad to see you’re sounding better.”

“Do you mean looking?”

“No.”

Despite the light teasing, Gatomon looked very pleased to have Wizardmon back in the shop again once his cold had worn out. He was also pleased, not ever particularly fond of rest.

“Pumpkinmon and Gotsumon were thrilled when they heard you would be back in today, you know. They insisted on taking an extra shift.”

“Ah, well I did promise them balloons. Though, since I did not know they would be here today-”

“Yes, I’m sure that’s why,” muttered Gatomon. 

“What do you mean?”

She just rolled her eyes in response, and went back to what she was doing.

“How are the sprites going, by the way,” she asked as she passed him behind the counter.

“They are going forward well,” he responded, “though I might ask you to look at some to see if they are clear.”

“Which ones?”

Wizardmon reached over to pass her a cup, waiting until she was done calling out to the customer in question. “Jackalopes and Nightcrawlers.”

“Hmm. I don’t know what that second one is.”

“Pants.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ll see. Though I am trying to figure out the balance of popular figures to more unique ones.”

“You know what everyone knows? And loves?”

“Is it ang-”

“It’s angels,” she said resolutely, before giving him a sly look. “And you know the horror fans would love what you could do with them.”

He raised his eyebrows, amused, “not that you would know about scary angels.”

“Now listen here,” she said, leaning in with a fighting smile when the door rang, and she looked up to it with a knowing look. Gatomon stepped to the side as Wizardmon turned around just in time to see Pumpkinmon and Gotsumon barreling towards him.

“Wizardmon!”

“You’re back!”

He surveyed the teens' bright faces with confusion. “I was only gone a couple days?”

“And we missed you SO MUCH!”

“Yeah! We made a bunch of cool new drinks, but Gatomon wouldn’t try ANY of them!”

“You’ll try them, right?!”

Wizardmon took a second to process the rapid-fire he’d just been hit with. “What… kinds of drinks?”

“Imaginative ones,” said Gatomon.

“Oh all sorts, ” said Gotsumon with extreme eagerness. “Do you want hot or cold first? Sweet? Sour? Rich?”

“Well-” started Wizardmon.

“Ooh yeah,” Pumpkinmon lept in, “and you have to tell us what you think!”

He felt like his head was close to spinning. “You are aware we are supposed to be working right now, correct?”

“Aww, c’mon boss,” whined Pumpkinmon, gesturing around the shop, “there’s no one here right now, it’s the middle of the day!”

“And we’ll get right back to it if someone comes in!” agreed Gotsumon.

Well. They weren’t entirely wrong, it was a pretty slow part of the day, with a while before the after-work rush. He looked to Gatomon, who shrugged.

“You said you had something ‘hot and sour’?”

“Ah yes, the Green Dragon ,” intoned Gotsumon. “At once.”

- - - -

“What do you think?”

Wizardmon considered the sample cup in front of him (they’d quickly switched to the tiny cups when he realized just how many drinks they wanted him to try), pointedly ignoring the phone camera Pumpkinmon clearly thought they were hiding better than they actually were.

“It is very… pink.”

“But the taste?” asked Gotsumon eagerly.

“It tastes pink.”

“How can something taste pink?”

“What did it taste like to you?”

“Dreams.”

“On the scale,” interrupted Pumpkinmon, “where would you place it?”

Wizardmon considered this. “Between the Lemon Cake Latte and the Lava Explosion.”

Gotsumon pouted, “aw c’mon, I thought it was better than that.”

“You have to remember this is the guy that put the Scented Candle Tea in the top spot,” said Pumpkinmon.

“It is hardly my fault if you don’t understand good tea,” said Wizardmon, “and I believe this one would still cater to-”

He was interrupted by the ringing of the front door, and turned to see Kari walking in.

“Gatomon!” he called to the back, trying to figure out how he was going to distract the other two when Pumpkinmon piped up.

“Ms. Kari!”

Wizardmon sent a confused look to Gatomon as she emerged from her office, looking quite put upon.

“We’ve failed on that front,” she muttered to him.

“I was not here,” he responded. “I did excellent on that front. You owe me balloons.”

“ Hey, I didn’t completely fail” she whispered, before returning to normal volume, “they just spotted my cousin who is from out-of-town before I did the other day and she introduced herself before I could! And it’s so nice my horrible other cousin isn’t with her like I feared, such confusion the first time she came by!”

“Ah of course,” agreed Wizardmon, who was 99% sure no such cousin existed, “we were keeping the teens away from family drama.”

“Yeah, he’s terrible,” joined in Kari, beaming.

For their part Pumpkinmon and Gotsumon seemed to have barely been paying attention to the lie being woven around them, much more focused on trying to get Kari to try a Flamingo Drink.

“Ms. Kari! You have to try this!” called Pumpkinmon.

“I said no serving things to customers that haven’t been tested,” said Gatomon.

“Wizardmon tasted it!” responded Gotsumon as at the same time Wizardmon raised an eyebrow and said “ did you now. ”

“Oh I don’t mind,” grinned Kari. “Not like I’m paying for it.”

She accepted the cup from Gotsumon, who beamed, watching eagerly as she took a sip.

“Huh,” she said. “Tastes like pink.”

“What does that even mean ,” whined Gotsumon.

“It just tastes like pink,” shrugged Kari. “I like it.”

“Impressive, given you usually go for the bitter coffees,” said Gatomon.

“A glowing review then. You guys should sell it.”

Pumpkinmon and Gotsumon’s eyes went giant. “Can we really??”

“Don’t get ahead of yourselves,” said Gatomon, “you know Myotismon would blow a gasket if we served drinks not on the standard menu.”

The teens drooped. Wizardmon sensed an opportunity.

“However,” he said. “That is only if he finds out.”

“Wizardmon-”

“I mean it could work,” Kari mused. “Just put it on a little special menu sign and hide it under the counter when his people come in.”

“You would encourage this,” hissed Gatomon, before turning to the pair still pleading at her. “Your little puppy eyes won’t work on me.’

Wizardmon stepped in. “I have a possible suggestion. Why don’t you just try it?”

Gatomon gave him an exasperated look, but he looked back reassuringly. Trust me , he thought, winking. She held for a moment, then relented.

“Fine. But only because these two had it first.”

Pumpkinmon and Gotsumon cheered as she took the cup from Kari, sniffing it suspiciously before taking a drink. There was a moment after it hit her mouth where her eyes absolutely lit up. She took a moment of deliberation before sighing.

“Again. You understand what deep shit we’re in if word gets out.”

“I know you want this to be the best shop it can be,” said Wizardmon.

Gatomon sighed. “Fine.”

“YEA-”

“BUT- if we get in trouble for this, it’s on you two, you understand?”

The pair nodded vigorously, Kari giggling in the background.

“Y’know cuz, I think this will be good for you! Take back some control!”

Gatomon glared at her, though the effect was ruined by the still cheering teens. “Were you buying something?”

Kari pointed to the still slightly filled blender behind her with a cheeky smile. “I’ll take a Flamingo Drink please.”

-    -   -    - 

They were closing up when Wizardmon heard Gatomon sigh.

“You know this whole new drink thing is going to turn into a mess.”

“A mess can be good if you’re tired of things being clean.”

She gave him a very unimpressed look.

“I think you enjoy the solving,” he said, giving into clarity. “You like doing a lot more than just listening. And you like doing things that make your shop better.”

“But it’s not mine, not really, is it?” she said, bitterly. “Might as well accept that before it all comes crashing down again.”

It hurt when she said things like that. She had so much fight in her, but she couldn’t lift up a hand for the one battle she needed most anymore.

“I wasn’t being entirely kind when I supported their idea, you know,” he tried instead. “They’re unlikely to run back to their boss if they’re outing themselves doing it.”

Gatomon smiled at that. “Ha, I should’ve known you would have something sneaky like that.”

She hesitated. “I do have to admit you all are on to something. I do miss creation…” 

She shook off the thought. “Nevermind that. It’s time to go.” 

They went outside, and when Gatomon nodded towards her car, he didn’t argue. Given he’d just been ill it was not a fight he thought he would win. They drove along in quiet companionship, listening to the quiet tones of the radio. When Wizardmon got out at his apartment, Gatomon stopped him before he could say goodbye.

“Wait. I have something for you.”

He watched with curiosity as she rifled through her bag before pulling out a bundle of fabric she held out to him. He stared at it.

“Well?” She looked distinctly like she was trying to power through her own discomfort. “Take it.”

He reached out, a wide, beautiful scarf unfolding under his hands. The yarn was a deep indigo, with bits of pale code patterned into it. He couldn’t quite tell under his gloves, but it looked soft. And warm.

“Gatomon… this is for me?”

“Of course it is,” she huffed. “You certainly need one.”

He couldn’t stop looking at it. “It is lovely.”

“Yes, well- consider it a business expense. So you stay healthy.”

He smiled up at her. “Thank you for this gift.”

Her eyes went wide, then she looked away. “You’re welcome,” she mumbled, before clearing her throat. “I’d better see you wearing it next time you’re outside in the snow, you understand? Good night, Wizardmon.”

“Good night Gatomon.”

Later, after he’d eaten, and Tailmon had yelled at him until he went to bed, he was sitting up and thinking as he stared at his cat on the end of the blanket.

“Tailmon,” he said. “I believe things may be changing for the better.”

[electionfraudking]

(Takes place several hours before xigbar is brought to bfd)

Xigbar brought the cloak this time. Leaving it behind before was a mistake he wouldn't make twice. Blanket was NOT fuckin' enough.

He hauled the last of the bodies up from the sort of. Morgue/freezer setup Showie had up to the makeshift lab he'd put together under the Kins Storage. He didn't know how far underground he was, but it had to be pretty deep. All the better for human experimentation, he supposed. Not like that's an above ground activity.

He dialed her number on his phone, and she picked up instantly.

“Hey.” She said.

"Hey, doll. Finally got all the bodies down here."

“Great. And you brought the cloak?”

"Yeah. Not doing this without it again. The blanket was nowhere near enough."

“Ha-ha. Got you to admit you didn’t bring the cloak last time even though you said you did.”

"Boooooooo. You suck. Run me through the steps again?"

“You got the body all laid out, yeah?”

"Well. More or less. Kinda just flopped. Carrying a bunch of bodies down here is hard work, okay? Leave me alone." He didn't mean it do NOT leave him alone.

“Okay, okay. Pick one and get it in a separate area. For this experiment we’re gonna revive them over and over and over to see what happens. Run your choice by me, though. No one valuable.”

"Well, the options today are…" He checked the bodies. "Jeremy Heere, Sasha Waybright, Default Mii, Qifrey, and Stede Bonnet. Figured it'd be a good idea to start with the freshest ones."

“Ooooh-kay,” She said, and he heard a tapping noise.

"What's that sound?" He asked.

“Stanley brought me my laptop! I’m taking notes!” Her voice sounded bright. “Anyway, let’s start with,,,,, Stede. Not a teenager and not a non-human. Looking at his historical file there is little of value to lose, memory wise. Additionally, he was in team We Cause Problems.”

"Damn, alright. So I just kill and revive him over and over? How many times, do you think?"

“Take notes each time, maybe ask a set of questions? Record his responses as you go. Maybe,,,, Do you know where you are, do you know who i am, do you know who you are, etc? And keep an eye on his physical form as well. Uh- the kins, they put everyone in hospital gowns, yes?”

"Yeah, they're in the hospital gowns." He looked over the bodies and shook his head in disappointment. "Man, I was hoping Sasha was gonna win that round. I like her. Kid's got guts."

“Well, nothings permanent when you have necromancy!” She said brightly. “We can exclude her from the subject pool and- oh, here’s an idea. Start with her, she’ll be our control. Bring her back once and then set her aside.”

"Works for me." Xigbar grinned. "Perks of being named vice showrunner, huh?" He pulled Sasha aside and set her up to be resurrected.

“Oh, definitely. When this is through we can make you a bracket and switch places.”

"I could make you election fraud queen- we can have matching sashes."

“Maybe that’ll happen in the couple battle? That tournament runner and I had a very nice chat just last night.”

"Ha- why does that make me nervous?" He pulled on the cloak. Gonna remember that every goddamn time now. Hell, he even brought a couple spares.

"Going silent for a minute. Gotta do the thing." He set up the sigil and then lit it. He heard Showie quietly counting down on the other end of the line.

“Okay, get ready~” She said.

The room filled with frigid wind. Most of which went around the cloak, like it had a- No Shit, Xigbar, of course it had a force field. Not like that was Showie’s specialty or anything.

She waited a few more seconds until the real cold hit, then said, “Well, it probably makes you nervous because we were talking about you!”

"You wha-" the words were stolen from his lungs when the Real cold hit. Damn you, Showie. Why does he even work for you. You suck.

“Oh, it was nothing bad,” She said, and he could hear her grin. “15 more seconds until Sasha begins moving!”

"Then why did you say it like that?!" Oh. Cheat code. Breathe THROUGH the cloak. The air is still cold, but it doesn't straight up hurt like that.

“Say it like what?” She said innocently.

Sasha begin to writhe, 15 seconds after that, the air returned to normal and she sat up, gasping.

“The questions,” She reminded him. As if he needed reminding.

"Swear to god, I'm gonna-" Ough. This woman. Xigbar cleared his throat. He grabbed his notepad off the table. "Hey, kid. Can you tell me who you are?"

"S-Sasha Waybright," she responded. Still seeming a bit out of it. Xigbar wrote it all down, the name and her condition.

"And do you know where you are?"

"It was…" Sasha put her face in her hand, like she had a migraine. "Some kind of tournament. White Boy Bracket? I was in a round and-" she looked up, pale. "I died?"

"Sure did, kiddo. But hey, who cares, right? Not like you're still dead!" Never talk to children again.

“That was a bit insensitive,” She said, “Check her physical condition? Mark down any changes you can see and then ask her if anything feels different.”

"Hi, yeah, no?" Sasha snapped, shakily getting to her feet. "No one's checking any of my physical conditions, thanks."

"Kid, chill. You're not getting touched. Just trying to make sure you didn't get fucked up in the resurrection, like some people. One guy didn't have a mouth for a while."

Sasha didn't look convinced. Still, she held her arms out in a T and turned.

"Great. Thanks. Not seeing anything unusual."

"Yeah, no, I could've told you that."

“I did say to ask her.” Showie said.

"Yeah, well, nothing's weird." Sasha rolled her eyes.

"See what I mean?" Xigbar laughed. "The kid's got some balls! Fuckin' love that! Just mouthing off to the Showrunner like it's no biggie!"

“Yeah, well,” Showie said, “There should be a room off to the side. New clothes, food, place to rest. Put her there.”

Xigbar gestured with his head the direction she was supposed to go in. Sasha rolled her eyes again, but went into the designated room.

“Alright,” Showie said, “Pretty successful control. Personality seemed intact, yes?”

"Most personality I've seen from a kid her age in a while." When it came to personality, Roxas and Xion were Not It. At least, not for a while.

“Oh, you should meet Annabeth. Percy, too. But they’re both solidly off limits. If Percy lost, I think I’d rig it. Anyway, onto Stede.”

"Right. So, rinse and repeat with what happened with Sasha, then just kill him again? Just to confirm."

“Yes. Avoid too much blood loss or head trauma, though, Blood loss would only frighten the others once it was their turn. Head trauma could muddy the results.”

"Cauterizing shot through the heart. Got it."

She hummed in agreement. He reset the ritual, this time using Stede, and relit it. Time for cold again. "So if the conversation wasn't 'that bad', then why did you say I should be nervous?" He chuckled.

A sort of evil giggle, “Oh, you don’t need to be nervous.”

Chuckle revoked.

"Okay, now I am nervous."

“No, no it’s fine! We just- you know, I didn’t really have anyone to talk to, so we talked! And it was fine! Now, the cold.”

He was ready this time.

"... You can talk to me-" That came out way more pitiful than he meant. Good job beating the poor little meow meow allegations, Xigbar.

“Not about this,” She laughed, “Anyway, did you put all of Team We Cause Problems into the match? Sasha, Stede- Virgil?”

"Nah, just Sasha and Stede. If I'm going purple, it's gonna be that Afton guy."

“Oooooh,” She said, “Oh, the effects of degradation on him would be fascinating. You know he’s already a living rotting corpse? That’s why he’s purple, he’s decayed! We might even do him a favor, reviving him. Set him right.”

"You want me to save him for when you get back, then? So you can see?"

“Hmm. Yes.” She sounded pleased, “It'll be interesting. He moving now?”

"Yeah, doin' the floppy thing." Don't make a dick joke. Don't make a dick joke. Don't make a dick joke.

“Pfft,” She laughed, “You know what else?”

"What? Did you just-?!"

“Oh, you know! Ah! He awakens!” She said, apparently she had the timing memorized, because Stede did, in fact, Awaken.

"Hang on- did you seriously just make a dick joke-"

“You walked right into it! Now, pay attention to our guest.”

Dear fucking god he was in love.

"Right, ah-" he cleared his throat, and rattled off the questions.

When Stede answered accordingly, Xigbar wrote everything down. Then, without giving him a chance to react, shot him right through the heart. Stede was dead before he hit the ground, and not a single drop of blood spilled. Goddamn he's good.

"Goddamn, I'm good."

“Yeah, yeah. Bring him back. Pretend like the first one didn’t happen, but ask him if he’s seen you recently.”

"Alright, fine."

Run through of the ritual again. Did it Have to be this cold? There is no reason anything should be this cold. Christmastown wasn't even this cold. Stede still answered appropriately. Seemed a little frightened.

Now for the good question.

"Have you seen me at all recently?"

"Y-yes, you just shot me."

"Oh, did I? My bad."

Bang.

Xigbar laughed like it was the best joke he'd seen in forever. It kinda was. I mean, the look on that guy's face? Absolutely priceless.

“Okay, okay, look him over for non-arrowgun damage and then bring him back,” She said, trying not to laugh, “Just turn him over with your foot or something.”

"Alright, alright, just- give me a second-" He needed to calm down. "Fuck, I wish you were here. You should've seen his face when I shot him!"

“I wish we could do video call, but then-” She paused, “But then tu-sais-qui would be able to hear you. And I don't mean, you know. Mon ex-mari. If only I had headphones.”

"Ah, well. When you're here, we can do this again."

Xigbar nudged Stede over, looking him over for wounds. "Well… He's missing an eyebrow, but nothing else."

“Oh, weird. That’s new. Mark it down- that’s near the head, so. Hm. Carry on.”

"Right."

Ran through it again. Still cold. Less bad though. Getting used to it?

From the get go, Stede looked scared. Especially once he laid eyes on Xigbar. Good. Be afraid. Xigbar had barely even opened his mouth before the guy took off running. He made it past him, but not much farther before he slipped and fell. In a moment of total clarity and definitely not panic, Xigbar may have. Accidentally slipped and shot Stede perfectly through the heart again. Whoopsie.

"Oops."

“What happened?”

"So. Totally normal, but uh- I may have jumped the gun. Literally. He tried to make a run for it. Knee jerk reaction, I killed him again."

“Oh. Well. Try not to do that,” She didn’t sound mad, “But we have the answer to at least one question. He definitely remembered you.”

"Tell me about it." Xigbar kicked the body- wait. No wonder he fell. "Dude's got two left feet. No wonder he ate floor."

“What, literally? Bizarre. I wonder if it’s just the degradation or if it’s how soon they’re happening, one after the other. Uh, hm. How unethical are we willing to get?”

"Doll, I'm willing to do a lot more than you'll make me. I'm ready to get downright heinous in here."

“Nothing heinous, just… perhaps a bit psychologically cruel? It would be interesting to see what would happen if we spaced the deaths out a little more. Once a day? Once a week? But I- I wouldn’t want to leave them in that sort of consistent, unending fear. Can you kill subtly? I don’t want them to see it coming. Perhaps we can hook them up to some sort of drip? We do have a hospital room adjacent to the lab… we could tell them that they’re hurt, that it’s a sedative? Pretend they’re in a hospital, so they don’t run? And of course I would work to undo any degradation they experienced once I got back.”

"... Good fucking lord." He needed a second. "You have no idea how hot that was, oh my god."

“W-well now I’m worried, was that worse than just killing them? I don’t want them to, like, sit in the fear!”

"No, no, you're fine. Just. Wow. I wanna study your brain." And also maybe. Yeah. Please laugh.

Small laugh, “That’s not very reassuring. I-is that a good idea or should we think of something else? Or, in either case, who should it be? Our test subject I mean.”

“Hm,” He checked his notes, “Washington?”

“Oooh, yes. I wouldn’t mind getting unethical with that creep. That came out wrong.”

"HA! You can get unethical with me anytime." The floodgates are open. Here come the sex jokes.

“Just revive him!” She said, laughing, “We can do this later!”

[tex-was-taken]

So I caved and decided to make an OC for COD. Why? Because why the hell not.

TeX

"At a press of a button, I'll be the one laughing here."

Picrew used (I WISH A COULD DRAW)

Meet 141's target new recruit: Angelo 'TeX' Salvador.

He is Task Force 141's new fillipino cyber expert and excels as a frightening hacker. Unlike the operatives in the team, he is unable to take arms on the field due to missing a leg the frontline.

But that doesn't mean can't put his skill to use!

Short story ahead!

Once a soldier, always a soldier. But in Angelo's case, losing a leg meant he couldn't fight in the frontlines anymore. Nowadays, he is a freelance hacker who takes on contracts from even the shadiest of people, all for the fun and money.

As long as they don't involve the government that is.

"Here's your coffee, Angelo." A waiter approached the table where Angelo sat, holding a cup of hot liquid and offered to the man. "Busy as always, huh?"

"You betcha, salamat." He takes the cup in his hand, the warmth absorbed into his hand as the aroma of freshly brewed java filled his nostrils. "Got tons of report to analyse and send off. Can't waste time, and besides why not enjoy it with the best coffee in town?"

The waiter chuckled, "The best indeed. Anyways, howl if you need me."

RING

Before he said anything, his phone began to let out a buzz. Every second, it vibrates. Angelo frowned to see the name that popped on the screen, 'Annoying', he was hoping it was someone completely different.

He sighs, picking up the phone.

"TeX, have you gotten our information yet?"

Of course.

Straight to the point.

"Their systems are slightly outdated but their security is hardcore." He responded, observing his screen as the loading bar continued to increment.

"So you can't get crack it?" The voice sounded disappointed. "Such a shame, I thought—"

"Now hold on a minute, buddy. I didn't say I gave up, didn't I? Took a couple of days to break their encryption. Had to sacrifice a shit tons of resources to keep them from tracing me."

"Cut the bullshit, TeX. Our deal?"

Angelo rolled his eyes. Quite a persistent fellow. "Yes, I have it here. Will have a drop point ready for you in a few hours." Twirling a USB around his finger.

"Good. You'll have your pay as soon as the exchange is made."

"Pleasure doing business with ya." Angelo smirked, the files finally ready to be transferred. The call ended and he sets the phone done next to the laptop, plugging the drive into the port. "What did this guy want anyways..." he uttered as he browsed through the files.

It didn't take long to realise what he had stolen.

Reports, logs, secrets, and Operative information. A file drew his attention as it was clearly out of the ordinary in a directory full of sub directories.

Read me

...

A bright red laser appeared on his chest, moving carefully towards the top of his head like. Even if he moved, he wouldn't get away with a leg like his.

He was caught.

"Ah shit."

He clicked his mouse on the text file, reading what was saved as he felt sweat dropping from his temple. He never felt this pressure since he was a soldier.

The fear running down his spine as he is in enemies sight.

Not bad. Your actions haven't gone unnoticed but I'm impressed you made it this far. We had our eyes on you for quite some time now, TeX.

You got two choice.

Angelo read the next lines, it looks like he will have to decide what comes next. Surrender and confess to his crimes or...

He slowly picked up his phone. Dialing the number that was on the screen and waited.

"So?"

Angelo drew his sight towards the source of the light.

"I'm in."

[sparkletastic-cookiedough]

Your tags gave me inspiration…

“Father.” Nico and Hazel marched into Hades throne room. If they weren’t his kids, Hades would’ve smited them. Only his family had the privilege to act like that.

And Percy Jackson, but that was a different situation. Killing Percy would be asking for war, and, more importantly, Nico would be sad that his dad attacked his friend.

Hades tried his best to look impassive. “Son. Daughter. What brings you to my domain?”

Nico looked Hades in the eyes. “Do I have another sibling?”

What.

“Where would you get such an idea? Did you forget the oath I made to not have anymore children?”

“Well, your brothers both broke the oath, so…” Hazel said.

“My brothers” Hades spat, “are fools. I have no living demigods but you two.”

Hazel turned to her brother. “Maybe he’s a different pantheon, then. I told you not to jump to conclusions.”

“Sorry, Father.” Nico said.

“You are forgiven, my son.”

“Maybe we should get Annabeth’s help on this. She and Percy are always the best to talk to about other pantheons.” Hazel said.

Hades frowned. If only his precious children would come to their father with their problems. Hades wanted to help them, give them fatherly guidance. But his children were running off to other demigods? Hades had a brief thought of smiting the child of Athena for keeping away what was rightfully his, before brushing it off. Nico would be sad.

“I might be able to offer my assistance.” Hades said casually.

“I don’t want to bother you, Father, I’m sure you’re very busy.” Nico said.

“You’re already here, and I’m offering.”

“It’s not that important” Nico dismissed.

“So unimportant you came marching down into my throne room demanding answers?” Hades raised his voice.

“I already apologized for that! Gods, you’re so-“

Hazel interrupted before Nico could insult the lord of the dead. “Nico found someone who claims to be the ghost king on the internet.”

“Son, you cannot believe everything you read on those forums” Hades explained as though Nico was five.

“There’s more than that, though.” Nico turned on his laptop and showed the messages to his father.

DeadTired: Are you my brother?

TheGhostKing: ??? I don’t think so??? Then again, I did discover a sibling by complete surprise once, so there’s always a chance.

DeadTired: I get that, same thing happened to me.

TheGhostKing: Dude, maybe we are siblings. Is your dad an incredibly powerful man with delusions of grandeur and a creepy basement?

DeadTired: you really shouldn’t insult my father like that.

TheGhostKing: and you’re half human too?

DeadTired: yep.

TheGhostKing: another sibling, dang. It’ll be helpful to have more people that can fight baddies with me. High school is tough when you have to save your town from the latest wack job.

DeadTired: and the adhd and dyslexia sucks too

TheGhostKing: how did you know???

DeadTired: runs in the family. Me and my sister have it. By the way, where are you training? I haven’t heard of any siblings in either camp, but with the wars I might’ve missed something.

TheGhostKing: what wars?

DeadTired: …oh no. How old are you, again?

TheGhostKing: 19

DeadTired: you’re still alive, and you haven’t been to camp??? Hold up, I need to have a talk with my dad.

TheGhostKing: k.

Hades read through the messages. On one hand, it could be a demigod from the Norse pantheon or something. On the other hand, Hades got a distinct feeling of dread.

“I might know who this is.” Hades said. “I’ll call him” Hades reached into his pockets and pulled out a rotary phone (he had very large pockets).

“Now while I’m more familiar with sending physical messages, I believe texting is more polite these days, yes?” Hades looked up at his son for confirmation. Nico nodded, stunned at his Dad’s absurd decision to use ancient technology. If Nico could adapt to the times, so could his dad.

It would at least be less ridiculous than this- Nico watched as the king of the underworld spun the dial on the phone wildly, typing a message in the most inconvenient way possible.

Nico didn’t even know it was possible to send a test using a rotary phone. It probably wasn’t- but Hades had magic and whatnot.

The sound of the dial echoing around Hades’ massive throne room was the only disturbance for several minutes. Nico didn’t dare leave- his dad would be passive aggressive about it later if he did.

Finally, Hades inputted the last of the numbers.

Hades smirked, proud of himself. Whether that was since Hades thought he was with the times, or if this was some elaborate ruse on his children, Nico would never know.

“I have invited someone for a chat. I suspect he may be the friend you met online. He should arrive shortly.”

“You’re being very polite.” Hazel noted. Indeed- usually the gods wouldn’t ask for people’s presence like that.

“You seem surprised. Am I not normally courteous to you mortals?” Hades spoke with a bit of an edge to his tone.

All the answers Nico could think of were the wrong ones. Sure, Nico was sassy at times, but he actually did have self preservation, unlike Percy.

“If only Grandfather was as polite as you. He could’ve asked permission first before trying to take over the world.” Hazel expertly defused the situation with a joke.

While yes, their grandfather was a touchy subject, mocking the guy seemed to be a dead-certain way of relieving tension at a family reunion.

Hades laughed, a deep thing that made the earth shake beneath them. “Perhaps,” he started, losing his speech briefly in laughter before collecting himself again, “he could’ve asked permission before eating me alive.”

Nico laughed at the joke, pretending it was hilarious instead of uncomfortable.

The laughter eventually died down.

“What now?” Nico asked.

“We wait. I have a game of Scrabble, if you’d like to play? Athena has been raving about board games lately, and I’d prefer to play with someone whose company I actually enjoy.”

“I’m dyslexic.”

“Right. I’m sure I have some game you like…”

Nico picked the least offensive option. His dad was far too competitive to play monopoly or uno, and he’d rather crawl through Tartarus again than play cards against humanity with his dad.

Hades and his children all sat down for a round of Candyland.

//-\\-//-\\

After hades was sent back to the Candy Cane forest for the third time, (Nico was definitely cheating) a someone knocked on the door.

It wasn’t just any door, it was the one Hades had told his children explicitly never to touch. Hazel had her theories as to where it led, and most of those were unpleasant in one way or another.

Hades immediately stood up, and answered the door.

As it opened, green smoke poured out. Hazel peeked behind the forbidden doorway- the space flickered between a dark red sky, complete black, and a strange expanse of green and purple.

It hurt Hazels eyes to look at the shifting landscape, so she instead turned her eyes to the stranger at the door. He appeared a few years older than Nico, but that didn’t mean much with the Gods regularly shifting their appearance. His dark hair and impish grin made him look a bit like Percy. Something about his eyes though reminded her of death, something Hazel was fairly familiar with.

“Sup?” Said the man in the doorway to Lord Hades, King of the Dead, God of the Underworld.

Hades bristled a bit at the lack of respect, yet he didn’t smite or threaten the doorway guy- which pointed to Doorway guy being either a god or someone with enough power that he can afford to disrespect the gods like that.

Another point where he’s similar to Percy.

“I thought Princess Dorethea was teaching you manners- like the proper way to address a king.”

“Yeah, but you know I don’t like those stuffy titles and whatnot. If I don’t have to use them, I don’t.”

“Hm.” Hades grunted. Hades actually liked titles quite a bit, they made him feel important. He also enjoyed formalities to an absurd degree. He was the kind of guy who wore three piece suits to bed.

There was also the fact that Nico and Hazel knew quite well: Hades was just as petty as the rest of the gods.

A wide smirk spread across Hades face. “Son, Daughter, I would like you to meet High King of the Infinite Realms,” the doorway stranger rolled his eyes. “Child of the Veil, Guardian of doorways,”

“That’s enough” Danny looked embarrassed, as though Hades was showing off his baby photos.

“Traverser of Timelines, Hero of Amity Park”

“Seriously Hades, we don’t need to be here all night!” The guy lept at Hades.

“Breaker of the Flaming Siren, Weilder of Fear, Bearer of Mortality,” Hades continued on, dodging the kids attempts to silence him in good nature.

The guy was quite speedy with good reflexes, but Hades was a god who could turn into shadows. Eventually, the guy tired himself out.

“Please, oh great god of death, end this suffering.” The guy said, before lying on the floor and accepting his fate.

Hades, pleased with having made someone else beg for mercy, finished the titles with a grand “Danny Phantom.”

Danny waved from his position on the floor.

“I’m Nico.” He introduced himself, rather than letting his dad do it. Nico knew he didn’t want Hades to list off titles, since his dad would sneak in titles like “cleaner of bathrooms”, complete with paperwork to back it up.

“Let me get this straight.” Said Hazel. “You’re… a half-immortal kid who’s gone on some cool missions, and your kind-of-parent is the fabric between life and death, and the space between realities?” She summarized, having paid attention, since someone had to.

“Pretty much, yeah. I was a normal kid until a lab accident, and now I’m half ghost. Evil ghosts tried to invade my town, so I beat them up. Then I beat the king of ghosts, and now I’m the king of ghosts.”

“Sweet” Nico said. “I also beat up a ghost king- different ghost king- and now am the ghost king. Hades is my dad.”

“Wait… you wouldn’t happen to be DeadTired, would you? Cause otherwise there are three people who are Ghost Kings, and I don’t think I can keep up with that.”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Nico said.

“Nico freaked out and thought you were our sibling.” Hazel explained. “So he went to dad, and dad sent you a message.”

“Sweet. Well, now we know why there’s two ghost kings.” Danny said.

“How does this power structure thing work anyway?” Nico asked. “Like, if we both gave orders to a ghost, whose orders would the ghost have to follow?”

Danny laughed. “Ghosts? Following orders? I wish. Sure there might be laws and protocol, but they don’t matter that much when no one follows it.”

“They don’t just… obey your commands?”

“That would be so awesome if it worked. I could just command the ghosts to not attack people! But no, they have to go around fighting people, or trying to kill me, or feeding off human joy.” Danny rolled his eyes.

“Sounds more like monsters than ghosts.” Hazel noted.

“Yes, your definitions of ‘Ghost’ are a bit different.” Hades responded. “Daniel”

“Don’t call me Daniel.”

“-actually fights something more similar to physical manifestations of primordials. It’s a bit complicated.” Hades explained.

“Dang. You must be pretty powerful then.” Nico stated with a bit of awe.

“Sure, I guess. But you kinda have to be when dozens of ghosts keep trying to attack you. Your dad is one of the only ones who doesn’t bother.”

“His realm interconnects kingdoms of the dead, thus I qualify for ghost citizenship.” Hades said.

“Do I qualify for ghost citizenship?” Nico asked. “Shoot, will I need to pay ghost taxes?”

“You can be tax exempt because I say so.” Danny informed Nico.

“Wonderful that you give tax exemption to my son but not me.” Hades grumbled.

“You’re a god of wealth, you can pay taxes.”

“Maybe I’ll use my son to commit tax fraud.” Hades contemplated.

“Dude.” Danny’s eyes flared an acidic green. “Don’t talk about tax evasion in front of the tax enforcers. That’s tax evasion 101. Thats like keying a policeman’s car. It’s stupid.”

“Don’t threaten me, boy.” Hades sneered. The ground began to shake.

“Or what? Wanna go up against the ghost who beat Pariah Dark?” The temperature dropped to a chill. Nico could see his own breath.

“Child, you have no idea what you’re up against. I have power beyond what you can fathom.”

“So did Undergrowth, and I showed him who was boss.”

“Speaking of wealth” Nico interrupted, “they’re opening preorders for the Mythomagic video game, and you technically abandoned me in a hotel for years, meaning you owe me like eighty birthday presents.”

Danny glared. Hades sighed, and handed over his credit card.

“Get out of my sight.” Hades commanded.

Nico grabbed Hazel and Danny’s hands and shadow traveled away.

Back on the surface, Nico stumbled to the ground.

“You really shouldn’t antagonize the gods like that.” Hazel suggested to Danny.

“I could’ve taken him.” Danny shrugged.

“Hazel” Nico groaned from the floor. “I want my laptop, but I don’t want to stand. Grab it for me?”

“You’re lucky you’re my brother.” She retrieved Nico’s gaming laptop.

“Shh, I’ve only played Candyland all day. I’m ready for some real games.”

“You got Doomed on there?” Danny asked.

Nico grinned, excited to have finally found a fellow gamer.

//-\\-//-\\

Nico couldn’t believe it.

How dare some completely mortal person take the username TheGhostKing on twitch before he could?

Look, the human probably thought they were being funny, and they didn’t know that there was an actual ghost king with a throne and everything. That ghost king being Nico DiAngelo, son of Hades.

It wasn’t fair. It had taken Leo ages to manage to get a streaming setup for Demigods that didn’t attract monsters. Nico had set up an account as quick as he could, ready to showcase his gaming prowess to the world. (Nico did spend decades in a casino after all. He was an amazing gamer).

And yet, the title that was rightfully Nico’s had been taken.

Nico sent a message to the user, ready to fight for his claim. This could only go well.

//-\\-//-\\

Danny Fenton had no idea who was messaging him about being the actual ghost king, but they were a liar.

After all, Danny was the ghost king, he had won the title through combat fair and square. It came with a few responsibilities, sure, but Pariah Dark had been sleeping on the job, and no disasters had happened.

So he meant no disrespect to DeadTired22, it was probably just some weird kid pulling a prank on him.

But some of the things DeadTired said were… interesting.

DeadTired: I am the ghost king, I have a throne and everything.

TheGhostKing: I know the actual ghost king, and he said you’re lying.

DeadTired: Dude, I know this is probably some joke to you. But you, a foolish human unaware of your place in the universe, shouldn’t joke about things beyond your comprehension, lest you anger the very forces you imitate.

TheGhostKing: Bold of you to assume I’m human.

DeadTired: Who are you then? Midas? There’s a difference between “Ghost that is a king” and “king of ghosts”. I am the second. We are not the same.

TheGhostKing: Eh, why not spill to strangers on the internet? It’s not like you actually know me irl…

TheGhostKing: I’m actually only half human.

DeadTired: …are you my brother?

[mspi]

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Oh no you don't

Myself? I was without my family, my bf was in another city, and I made a dumb decision to think I could trust coworkers. My horrible B.

My idiotic self was trying to build computer systems that would catch the eyes of a young generation. More affordable than laptops, yet portable like a backpack. They'd be personalized for the client depending on their wants & needs for work, studies and gaming.

This is back in 1997ish days. Earning my A+ certification would've been easy to get more ppl to listen to me. Oh yeah, I was an Asian girl working in a retail store being ignored. Until a shopper asked how much I knew about computers and where mine came from.

My answer shook the both of us. I said I built my computers for gaming, studies, and practice. Her: Why aren't you working for Apple? Me: 🤣 I could use their help. Maybe I should read more about their founders for tips.

Decades later, after reading the Steve Jobs biography, I see that one of my old jobs were run similar to what Mr Jobs had built. It wasn't a happy place as I was the only one not 🚬 throughout the day or cursing like a sailor at our lawyers, managers, or HR.

People need to cool it by picking up healthy habits. Exercise relieves stress better than 🚬 breaks 4x an hour. I had to go around the block for fresh air.

Here's a sign that things are bad. My roommate who was a BIG fan of one of the founders would've turned down meeting him at one of monthly company pub gatherings. They said it can't be so great if they've shrunk me from the stress.

###

Oh FLASHBACK

There was a cool looking chill bar around the corner from our condo. I was a bit jelly that the roomie went with our neighbor upstairs for some drinks. All I'd want is a Cosmo or Irish Coffee.

Next realization:

They called me to leave the door open. I left the 🚪 open and they rushed in to a bathroom to 🤮🤮🤮 in the 🚽. 🤷‍♀️ Maybe I'm out of my league with the 🍻. Nah, I'm a cocktail gal. Talking sips of 🍺 from the ex at clubs and sports events was all I could handle.

Darn am I happy I learned from living with the old bestie to remember to eat before drinking. Ooooh, that explains the big dinners before we went cray clubbing downtown.

More 🤦 -- They knew our limits before I understood that I was 🤢 pukey like. There was a kicking drink I had a few gulps of that they pulled away from me after they had done the same. Thank goodness the front bathroom had a 🛁. I rushed there and 🤮, then they came in after and we were supporting each other through the icky mess.

Why'd I make that the time I believed I could trust them? We're talking about not wanting to let that catch go.

If they can make it through that + they knew of the MS and possible cancers that would be coming 'round, I believed I caught a keeper.

It's so much more than that experience. We had so much in common with enjoying our careers and hobbies. 🤓 Jokes didn't phase us. Forget that I thought they got the position I was going for in the university's IT dept, they deserved it and were healthier to do what was physically needed to reach and climb through.

Yes we met through work. My former manager told them to say hi to me studying in the empty library. Awkward.

It could be the best luck for me career wise. What I was doing in the library was trying to decide my major. Programming back then was a bore during the dial-up internet days.

When I caught a sparkle in their eyes was when I let them know who I was working for. Maybe it could've been a geek 🤓 dream connection. Ohh I was with AtHome who provided Cable Internet for North America through our cable partners nationwide and beyond.

###

Diff types for diff people

I'm thankful I'm not supposed to drink like I did when I was younger. There's a way good reason what might happen. My meds might lose their efficacy.

-- dnagirl

11.01.2025

[charcherry-weekly]

Charcherry Weekly - Issue 220

Hey there, Mage of Light Nick Card here. Its been raiiiining lately. We got news to focus on though.

Heated Fights on Dawnsring!

Early this week, a new desertian combatant made their debut in the Dawnsring Divine Combat Circuit's Light League. Reportedly they're a 3 in 1 type of fighter, with three different identities and 3 different combat styles. Together they are known as the Light of Hope. The members of the Light of Hope system include Heir of Hope Whirlwind of Prospit, denizen-made construct the Acting Monarch, and Thief of Light the Dungeon Mistress. Short, medium and long distance ranges respectfully. Their first match was against the Patchwork Terror, an elderly seamstress with a perchance for crafty tricks. She made use of a magically animated plush toy that appeared to resemble the late timespace monster chronos. The Acting Monarch took center-stage at match start, but soon swapped out for the Dungeon Mistress. She made use of distracting elements to set up for the Whirlwind of Prospit to strike! The match continued on with some back and forth, copious amounts of front swapping, some string cutting, and finally a finishing blow from the Acting Monarch, who claimed victory for the Light of Hope by shoving the Patchwork Terror and her plush out of the ring!

With a win under their collective belt, the Light of Hope managed to attract the attention of the DSPAN tv channel, who then proceeded to obtain the broadcast rights to their matches, as well as for Time Trancer, so that their bouts can be broadcasted on a new substation of DSPAN known as DSPAN-DR. Do note that this new channel is a payed channel, in contrast to standard DSPAN, which is always free to watch. Monthly fee is 50 credits per household, with an initial receiver setup fee of 10 credits per device. For those who don't wish to pay to watch new matches, DSPAN has also partnered with NABC to broadcast the fights on neo alternia, desertian territories, and other places that may pick up the NABC-2 channel. These will not be live and instead will be on a time delay of sorts and will be dubbed in alternian for localization reasons. Desertian viewers can access english closed caption subtitles for this channel. Other desertian and neo alternian dawnsring fighters are encouraged to contact DSPAN if they wish for their fights to be aired, via the email address dr-viewer-contact@dspan.desertia.robotics . Please note that this email address (much like everything else on the .robotics domain) cannot be reached from the vanilla timeline for unknown reasons.

On thursday, a second desertian fighter joined the fray, under the name NullPointerException. Reportedly she is a nonplayer with an expert grasp on weaponized sylladex usage and uses a combat exoskeleton to increase her fighting capabilities. NPE's first match was against The Light of Hope, who certainly didn't go easy on her! However, NPE had the element of surprise on her side, as she made excellent use of the classic Random Bullshit technique, engaging in comedic antics during the entire match. Reportedly she also tried to throw a nokia brick phone at LoH, only for the Acting Monarch to hit a home-run with their scepter! A very lucky audience member managed to catch the phone and even got it signed later on! Upon retrieval however, the phone rang in classic nokia fashion and played the catchy ditty from the level 1 ending to the flipjam fanventure Dial-In Mishaps upon being answered. At some point, NPE wound up using a ThinkPad laptop as a shield, and a computer keyboard as a smacking device. NullPointerException managed to win against Dungeon Mistress by knocking her out of the ring with the keyboard. After the match, the two (plus the other two) desertian fighters shook hands and returned home. The next day, a new memo was set up for fighters and fans to discuss things at #dawnsring-fighters. All currently contracted desertian fighters are present there, willing to field questions from their dear viewers and enthusiasts alike, within reason.

Reportedly, there are plans for a state-of-the-art movie theater to be built in Desertia Town, for the purpose of hosting dungeon crasher movie nights and likely free screenings for desertian residents to enjoy at all other times. Do note that it is in deep planning phase and may take a significant amount of time to be designed and built. In the meantime however, movie night will continue to be hosted online in the #movie-night-group-chat when it is scheduled.

Classified ads

Rail engineers wanted! Contact theUnderground for details.

Do you need therapy? Have you been impacted by the cosmic creation game in some manner? Do you have weird problems that likely have supernatural factors? Contact Dr. Winters at 555-555-0125 (new number) to schedule an appointment, new client slots open in October.

Do you have an Important Quest Item that's not for your quest? Are you missing the one you're supposed to have? MacGuffin's is your one-stop shop! inquire by contacting @dicelibrarian on tumblr.

Do you want an ad here? Contact lavenderSiren to get an ad for whatever. If you don’t write it yourself, you risk the newsletter writer writing it instead, do be warned.

This week’s known market stands in Desertia Town:

DTA train ticket stand

Katie’s potion stand (Not available to plitlanders due to regulations, available to all others however)

shinyjiggly pokesnacks stand (also has a Unity Village location!)

Candy stand

Costume stand

Progress is inching along for HyacinthHeld, now finally to a point with significant level design. Admittedly I've been distracted by news elsewhere of the pokemon mega-leak, particularly internal documents that are close enough to canon to have impact upon the pokemon world as we know it. No comment on the apocryphal legends deemed unsuitable for a young audience, you know which ones they are. I will say however, you might want to consider seeking out the keys soon. Analysis from recovered files has revealed that there may be a key present in the Alchemy Factory department. Stay safe out there. https://letssosl.boards.net/thread/457/charcherry-weekly-issue-220

[or-something-better]

November 18, 2022

Nightly RP              (Ruby write this outline)

Sam

Sitting on the sofa in Ruby’s apartment, I balance my laptop on its arm and try to jot down notes from the research page I’m looking at. So far, I’d been able to connect a few of the dots that Charlie had given me a couple of months ago and I was starting to get a little more excited that she might really be on to something.

Ruby

Standing in front of the open fridge, I turn to Sam.  Anything, in particular, you want for lunch?

Sam

Not really paying attention, I answer without even looking up. Uhhh, whatever you want is fine…

Ruby

Mumbling to myself Of course it is. Grabbing the covered bowl already in the fridge, I set it on the counter. Tuna it is.

Sam

With pickles…

Ruby

Oooof course…

Patience

after having several visions of Sam standing over Ruby with a knife it's time I call Sam. dialing Sam's number and hearing eye of the tiger play

Sam

My phone starts to ring, and I have to juggle everything in order to bend forward and scoop it up off the floor. I can see from the caller ID that it’s a call from Patience and right away feel a rush of worry. Hey, Patience, What’s up?

Patience

Hey Sam do I've had this vision 4 times now and really feel like we should meet up. I can't tell where it's but it's dark and you are standing over Ruby with a knife and I'm really afraid of what this means

Sam

Patience, slow down…slow down. This is a vision you had? You gotta know that it’s pretty much a sure thing that I won’t be doing anything like that, right?

Patience

I don't know Sam they've been pretty close lately to being right. I just don't know what to think

Sam

Alright, alright… want to meet and talk about it some more, maybe you'll feel better. I'm at Ruby’s right now, is it okay if I bring her?

Patience

Yes Sam I think we should and yes please bring her. I really want to see you both together

Sam

Okay, great. Meet us at the park in Beloit near the college. There are some benches near the west end, we’ll meet you there.

Patience

Thank you Sam be safe hangs up my phone and getting ready to leave

Sam

I hang up the phone and think about what she’s just told me about her vision.

Ruby

Waiting for Sam to explain……I finally ask.. We got trouble?

Sam

That was Patience, she’s had one of her visions and says it included you and me. She wants to meet, feel like coming with?

Ruby

Puts everything back in the fridge Sure.

Sam

I get up and go get dressed. Coming out of the bedroom, I look all around the living room and then yell out for Ruby. Hey, have you seen my shoes?

Ruby

Already holding his shoes out to him with them hanging off my first two fingers, I smile, without a word.

Sam

I hold up a finger and try not to grin. Don’t you say it… I take the shoes and quickly sit down and slip them on.

Ruby

Once Sam is ready, I quickly pop us to the Park to wait for Patience.

Sam

I see Patience coming towards us and I stand up to greet her. You made it…

Patience

running towards Sam and Ruby I grab them both for a group hug I'm so happy to see you both maybe you help me make sense of these visions

Ruby

Have a seat Patience, I offer, standing up too.

Sam

Hey, it’s okay… Here, sit down… we’re gonna figure this out, honest.

Patience

Thank you Ruby

Sam

I glance over at Ruby and give her my best It’s okay look. Patience, Why don’t you just tell us exactly what you saw, don’t leave anything out, okay?

Patience

Ok so the vision I have had 4 times now all with you Sam standing over Ruby holding a knife ready to stab her in the chest trying to catch my breath from running"

Ruby

Do you see anything around you? What time of day do you think it was?

Patience

as I'm telling them another piece of the vision comes to me I can see clearly as I walk around Sam seeing Ruby lying on the ground I shake myself out of it

Sam

When it becomes clear that she’s seeing something else, I squat down beside the bench and take hold of her hands. Try to stay with it…

Patience

Sam you and Ruby are in a forest the clouds open up a bit and with the moon I see you standing over her ready to stab her in the chest Sam you stabbed her in heart

Sam

Looking up at Ruby, I can see that she’s as disturbed by this as I am by all this. What the hell was going on?

Ruby

Starting to pace, my frustration builds What is it with this bunch? It’s one disaster after another. There’s never a lull in between crises! Is there a curse on this crew? Is it impossible to have a quiet, uneventful week? Hell, even a couple of days would be a fluke.

Sam

I stand up and walk over to Ruby. Hey, Hey, you know this isn’t a real thing, right?

Ruby

Looking at him bewildered. What do you mean? Every vision Patience has had has happened. Maybe not exactly as seen, but they happened.

Sam

I know that this all sounds… bad. But I’m also sure that nothing like that is ever going to happen. It’s just not. I look at both of them and can see that neither are in agreement with me. Okay Look, how about this, let’s go back to the Bunker and get the others to listen to the vision and see what they all think. Yeah?

Patience

I'm really sorry you two but I had to tell you I agree Sam picking up my bag

Ruby

Whatever you say, Sam. I reluctantly agree with him. Let’s get this over with. I pop the three of us to the bunker.

Charlie

sitting at the map table on my laptop when I see Sam, Ruby and Pay appear hey guys

Patience

sitting at the map table with group hey Charlie

Henry

Hi

Patience

wringing my hands not knowing what is going to happen

Meg

just sitting down with a beer well howdy guys. seeing their faces what's wrong now??

Ruby

Now what would make you say that? I ask sarcastically.

Meg

Cuz you guys look a little freaked...? shrugging

Patience

Ok as I try and sit still so I've had this vision four make that five times now. At first I could only see Sam standing over Ruby with a knife and she was lying on the ground. Then I saw them surrounded by lots of trees   this one I felt like I was there and watched him stab her in the heart.

Henry

That’s ridiculous Sam will never hurt her

Meg

knowing that it would not happen that way, I smile a small smile to myself yea, I don't think that would happen. Ruby would easily woop your ass first! chuckling

Ruby

I grin at her remark

Charlie

smirking while I don’t disagree with you Meg, patience is always spot on. I’ve never seen her have a vision that we haven’t seen happen… I think we need to be worried

Sam

Look, I agree with all of you that I’d never use a blade against Ruby. I get up from the table and pace as I think and speak. But we’ve also seen Patience’s visions come to pass over and over again. I think we just need to find a way to SEE more of what’s coming to her.

Ruby

That would be a good place to start.

Sam

That gives me an idea that might actually help us. Patience maybe between all of us we can come up with a way to… I don’t know, Boost your gift maybe?

Patience

That sounds good to me whatever we need to do to figure this one cause I must say I am NOT liking these visions

Sam

I look around at the others hoping that maybe I’ve hit on something. I’m worried that time might be a factor here, guys. What do you all think?

Charlie

I think you might be on to something… I mean Missouri used to touch things…. And I’ve seen patience do that before…

Meg

shrugging and taking a sip of my beer I have nothing better to do. I'm game. looking at the others

Patience

I think you're right Charlie maybe I can do that again here

Henry

That sounds like an idea. Let’s try that not sure how phsycs do things

Patience

trying to relax sitting at the map table

Meg

thinking of how to help, and who might be responsible for this fucked up vision, I offer well, maybe it could be lucifer...?

Henry

Spell ritual maybe. I’m not really good at this stuff.

Ruby

Turning to Patience When you think about the vision, do you get a feel for any location?

Patience

I feel like it's really close by, but can't tell where

Ruby

I may have an idea that might help. Turning to Sam  Sam, do you have a map of Kansas?

Sam

I go over to the roll top desk and look through the maps in the drawer, pulling out one of Kansas. Here use this Ruby.

Ruby

Taking the map from Sam, I spread it out on the table in front of Patience Ok, calm yourself and clear your mind. Let all thought go. With your hand, hold it over the center of the map. When you’re ready just let your hand guide you.

Meg

sitting up a little straighter and leaning in a bit to see better

Ruby

Close your eyes

Patience

holding my hand over the map I closed my eyes and relaxed I can feel my hand moving on on it's own then I feel a tug and my hand drops to the map

Ruby

Seeing Beloit below Patience’s stilled hand, I quickly look at Sam, worried.

Sam

When I see where Patience’s hands stops, I can’t keep, Shit from escaping my lips.

Patience

worried as I see the look on Sam and Ruby's face what what's it mean?

Henry

Huh?

Charlie

giving them a look, as Beloit is familiar and I know Sam and ruby have had dealings there in the past

Sam

I think maybe we really are in trouble here.

Charlie

If it’s that close, shouldn’t take us too long to get there…. Right?

Sam

Hang on… I go into my room and pull out the notebook I used when I’d originally been looking for a safe place to stash Ruby. Inside was the City map of Beloit, and I take it back out to the rest. Here Patience, see if you can make it work on this one… I unfold the city map and lay it on the table.

Ruby

Giving Patience a look of encouragement, This should help us pinpoint the location even further. A little nervous, I watch as Patience’s hand moves once again.

Patience

still relaxed I closed my eyes and hold my hand over the map. Again feeling my hand moving on its own. Then my hand drops to the table.

Meg

standing now, concerned for Ruby and Sam

Ruby

Seeing it's not inside Beloit, I have a sense of relief It's outside the city at the State Park.

Sam

Relieved that the place we’re looking for is nowhere near the apartment.

Henry

We have a place to start I guess

Meg

nodding at henry sure do.

Ruby

A thought occurs to me. Patience, what if I were to stay behind? If I’m not there, Sam can’t kill me, right?

Patience

looking at Ruby I answer her Ruby I wish it were that simple but I have tried in the past but the visions just readjust themselves to get the exact same results, I'm really sorry

Sam

Ruby, I’m not doin’ this…Getting my go bag together, I grab the keys to the Charger and head outside. Opening the trunk, I drop my pack inside and leave it open while I get in and start it up.

Charlie

Well… getting up to grab my go bag we won’t find out much sitting here …. grabbing the keys to my bug I head out to the garage

Ruby

Following Sam out, I take shot gun

Sam

Charlie, just follow me. I know exactly where we’re going.

Henry

grabs my bag and gets in Sam’s car hope it goes well

Charlie

nodding take the lead then

Patience

getting my go bag and following Sam and the rest to car dropping my bag in the trunk should I ride with you and Ruby?

Sam

Yes, so we can maybe narrow down where we're going

Patience

That's my thought as well

Meg

stashing a couple knives up my sleeves, I catch up to them

Sam

Once everyone is inside, I pull out and head for the freeway exit. The ride is quiet, and the sun is starting to set as we pass the first Beloit exit. I can feel the tension in the car and can’t be sure that I’m not the one who’s putting it out. I reach over and squeeze Ruby’s leg, smiling to try and let her know that everything is going to be fine.

Ruby

I return his smile with my half-hearted one, I know he means well. I still can’t help but be nervous. I’ve never doubted that visions are real.

Henry

We will stop whatever comes

Charlie

I follow closely behind Sam, keeping my eyes on the charger, thoughts racing about what is to come

Sam

When we reach the area Patience pointed out on the map, I look back at Patience in the rear view mirror. I’m just going to drive slowly through this area. Patience see if you can feel anything that might lead us in the right direction.

Charlie

noticing Sam slowing down, I match his speed and stay close

Patience

After a while of riding through sitting in the back seat watching as the trees go by when I start to feel strange  STOP SAM WE'RE CLOSE trying not to yell but did anyway

Sam

I pull the car over underneath a large tree and stop.

Charlie

seeing the brake lights on the charger, I pull over behind Sam and look around at the setting sun

Meg

getting out of the car, I look around

Henry

gets out of the car, what now?

Patience

getting out of the car looking around

Sam

As the sun slips below the horizon, I watch Charlie pull in right behind me and I get out of the car.

Ruby

Getting out of the Charger into the darkness, I look around at what the headlights show.

Sam

Charlie, Patience had a feel about this area.  How about we split up and see what we can find? Patience you and Henry come with me. Ruby you stay with them and away from where I am, agreed?

Ruby

That's a good idea Sam.

Charlie

I think that’s a good idea… I’ll take Meg and ruby… I think it’s best you and ruby aren’t together

Henry

That’s good with me

Patience

standing next to Sam and Henry good with me

Charlie

I’ve got radios in my trunk if you don’t…

Sam

Good Idea. Henry will you man the radio for us?

Henry

Sure

Ruby

Do you get a feeling for any particular direction Patience?

Charlie

going back to my bug I grab a couple of radios, making sure they’re both turned on and charged I pass one to Henry

Meg

looking around the wooded area, waiting to start our search

Charlie

Meg, I’ll let you take the lead on our side passing her the radio

Patience

with the strange feeling I point  over toward the bunch of trees to the south ( I think)

Sam

I look off in the direction Patience indicates. Let’s come at this from two sides… meet in the middle. That way if we flush anything out it’ll be between us.

Henry

takes it thanks

Ruby

I turn on my flashlight and wait to follow Charlie.

Patience

Sounds like a plan

Meg

taking the radio, I smirk at Charlie that's cuz I'm awesome.  Let's go. walking slowly away from the other group

Charlie

following behind Meg I keep my eyes peeled for anything strange

Sam

Pulling out my flashlight, I lead my group off to the left, through the woods.

Patience

walking  as quiet as mouse

Sam

I was moving slowly, trying not to make a whole lot of noise. Patience just let me know if you feel anything…

Charlie

a small rustle can be heard in the woods close by

Henry

follows Sam like a duckling. Hoping it’s nothing to bad

Patience

I will Sam promise

Sam

Suddenly I hear what sounds like snapping wood off to my left. I hold up my fist to signal the others to stop. With only hand signals, I let Henry and Patience know that I heard something and that they should stay right here. I point to myself, pull the demon blade from my jacket pocket and then head off alone to see if I can find the source of the noise.

Charlie

Anything yet, meg?

Henry

waits for Sam to come back

Patience

not happy with staying behind but I agree to stay behind with Henry

Meg

Not yet. staring around as I walk

Charlie

…..coming up behind Ruby, I cover her mouth and knock her to the ground without a sound, and drag her off further into the forest

Ruby

Something grabs me from behind and throws me to the ground. I fall hard, hitting my head on a rock in the middle. I lose consciousness.

Charlie

Turning I look for Ruby Ruby?? Meg??!!! Where’s ruby?!?!

Meg

something comes out of nowhere knocking me down

Charlie

scrambling back to my feet I run over to Meg and extend my hand to help her up

Meg

dizzyingly looking around what the hell was that!? taking Charlie's hand, I stand up I don't see her.

Charlie

Me either… we need to tell the others…..

Meg

Shaking my head to clear it yea. Let's go.

Sam

Moving cautiously through the woods, I’m listening intently for the slightest sound.

Ruby

seeing ‘Sam’ in the distance I decide now is the time to move, running up behind him i grab him by the hair and pull him backwards, slamming him into the ground

Sam

The attack catches me off guard, and I spin around hitting the ground flat on my back. Rolling to the right, I use a tree to get back to my feet.

Ruby

lunging again I throw Sam towards another tree close by, my claws extended

Sam

Dropping the flashlight, I grab the arm that is clawing towards my face, and bend my body forward with enough force to throw the person to the ground. As I step back, breathing hard, I see that the person on the ground is Ruby!!

Ruby

with a snarl on my face I try to attack again

Sam

I glance up just as the moon comes out from behind a cloud to shine its full light on Ruby as she gets up and runs towards me. In the silvery moonlight, I can see her clearly.

Ruby

raising my arms I try to strike again

Sam

With a sudden rush of relief, I jump forward taking the attack to her! Grabbing her arm, I sweep my leg against hers and knock her to the ground. In one fluid movement, I straddle her prone form and before she has a chance to recover, plunge my Blade deep into her heart with all the force I have.

Ruby

screams out in pain, until the sound ends

Sam

Blood sprays from her death-wound and I look up just in time to see the others come running with looks of horror on their faces.

Meg

seeing Ruby on the ground dead, Sam holding the knife seriously!?? That's what we were trying avoid!! How could you!!?????

Charlie

I come upon the scene just as I see Sam pull the blade from Ruby’s chest What did you do?!?!

Henry

comes running not wanting to wait any longer you promised to not

Patience

walking up to the others with Henry SAM W'WHAT HAVE YOU DINEY

Sam

Standing up, I pull my blade from the body and all can now see it’s true form. It wasn’t Ruby. This was a shapeshifter that had just taken her form. I wipe the blood off the blade and walk over to the others.

Ruby

Stumbling into the open with the others, I hear them accusing Sam and see them surrounding him. Stop! It’s not what you think!

Charlie

my shoulders sag in relief hearing Ruby shout

Henry

How you know?

Patience

relieved to see Ruby I run to her. Oh Ruby I was so scared

Meg

relief washes over me as Sam tells us it's a shifter seeing ruby I relax

Sam

I smile and reach out and take hold of Ruby’s hand, turning her wrist up to the moon light. The shifter didn’t have this mark. I pull back my sleeve to show them that we have the same scar on our wrists. Looking directly at Ruby, I nod to her. I knew it wasn’t you.

Ruby

I punch Sam's shoulder Smart ass

Meg

That was insane! Shaking my head and putting my knife back in my sleeve

Patience

I knew there had to be an explanation.

Charlie

I’m just glad it wasn’t Ruby…. I don’t know that I can talk anyone into bringing you back next time Sam ….

Sam

Charlie... let's not test that out

Charlie

grinning agreed

Henry

grabs the legs we probably should hide the body

Meg

looking at the body good idea. You take the legs, henry.

Sam

Let's them take care of the clean up, picks up my flashlight and heads back towards the cars.

Meg

Grabbing the hands I start walking backward we need a shovel.

Ruby

The animals around here will probably take care of it

Henry

starts walking forward ugh this is heavy

Patience

sighs of relief as I watch Henry and Meg hide the body

Meg

grunting with the effort let's set it over here. jerking my head toward a large trunk of a tree

Sam

I slip my arms around Patience's shoulders Your vision was right again, well, basically. I think you're getting the hang of it all

Henry

Ok drags it to the tree

Meg

I pose the body in a sitting position, then return to the group thanx buddy.

Henry

Yup returns to the group

Patience

Thank you Sam I am really working on them I'm just happy now that you and Ruby are both safe, by the am I ridding back with you guys?

Sam

Absolutely

Charlie

holding up keys well I’m ready to go home and get back to my game

Patience

Whew what a night. Next time I am not waiting so long to say anything

Henry

hops into Sam’s car

Patience

hops in Sam's car with Henry

Sam

Heads back to the Bunker, happy that everything worked out so well.

Meg

I'll see you guys later. waving at the group

………………………………………….

Point 1

Sam is in ruby’s apartment seated at the table looking at his laptop when his phone goes off. It’s a worried Patience asking for help. She tells him she’s had a partial vision that shows Sam standing over Ruby (who is lying on the ground), ready to stab her in the chest with a large knife. She can’t tell where they are, but it’s after dark. She tells him she has had the vision four times now but that it is still only a partial vision. She wants to meet.

Sam asks if she would like Ruby to be there, too. She agrees.

They plan to meet up at the local park. Sam and Ruby have a bit of small talk while waiting for Patience to show up.

Sam has filled Ruby in as much as he can and Ruby is anxious to find out more

Point 2

Patience is understandably upset with her vision. She tells them that she’s had this vision four times and it’s always the same. She is concerned and doesn’t understand why more is not showing up.

Sam asks her to go through the vision from the beginning and tell him and Ruby everything that she has seen.

During her telling them the vision, she gets another small piece. The background starts to become clearer. She sees Sam standing in a forested area with lots of trees and Ruby is lying on the ground in front of him. It’s after dark, clouds open up and the moonlight shows Sam, standing over Ruby, raising a knife and stabbing her in the heart.

Point 3

Ruby is concerned about the vision. Sam suggests they go to the bunker and see what the rest think. Patience agrees and grabs her bag. Sam says they should try to figure this one out.

Point 4

Seated at the bunker table, the group go over the vision. Henry says that is ridiculous, Sam would never hurt ruby.  Meg agrees commenting on how ruby could and would kick his ass if he tried. Charlie listens and agrees with Meg but reminds everyone patience is usually spot on with her visions. Sam says that they need to find a way to help Patience ‘see’ the rest of the vision. Ruby agrees that that should be the first thing they do.

Sam tells Patience that maybe between all of them, they can figure out the vision and as quickly as possible. Patience agrees.

Point 5

The group starts throwing out ideas. Meg thinks Luci is behind it. Henry thinks maybe it’s a ritual of some sort. Ruby asks Patience if she can get a feel for the location. Patience tells them she knows it’s nearby. Ruby helps her use her intuition to find the location. She tells Patience to hold her hand over the map of Kansas. Patience centers herself again. She holds her hand over the map. As she moves her hand over it, she feels a tug, allowing her hand to move freely. It stops over the city of Beloit. Sam and Ruby look at each other with concern. Charlie gives them a knowing look. The rest talk about it being close by and they should be able to get there quickly.

Point 6

Sam gets a map of Beloit and they have Patience try one more time. When her hand stops, it is outside the city (bringing relief to Sam and Ruby) in a forested area. That would match with what Patience saw. She centers over Rock Cut State Park, south of Beloit. They now have a place to start. They will try to find the location once they get to the park. Ruby asks Patience if she should stay behind. If she’s not there, how can Sam kill her? Patience tells her she’s tried that in the past but unfortunately, she can’t beat the visions. It would just readjust for the same result.

Point 7

Everyone gears up and gets ready to leave. It takes a little while for them to get there. The sun is starting to set. Sam can see Ruby getting anxious. He puts his hand on her leg to reassure her and smiles at her. The smile she returns is more of a grimace. Henry and Charlie reassure them that they’ll stop whatever is coming. Once they get to the park Sam suggests they drive through it to see if Patience can pick up anything. After a while, she tells Sam to stop the car. She feels they are near the location.

Point 8

It is after dark now. Sam parks and everyone gets out. They divide into groups.  Sam Patience and Henry in one group.  Ruby Charlie and met in another. Patience points in a direction where she gets the greatest feeling. Sam suggests they try coming to the area on two sides and then meeting up at the end. They will keep in touch with radios. They carefully and quietly move forward.

Point 9

As they are walking, Sam thinks he hears something. He tells Patience and  Henry to stay there while he checks it out.

Meanwhile, the other team moves forward when, after a short time, something runs through them pushing them down. Ruby is pushed back into the bushes and hits her head, knocking her out. Meg gets back on their feet and looks around for Ruby. She’s nowhere to be found. She and Charlie start to panic a little.

Point 10

Sam is looking around, knowing he heard something. He’s holding his flashlight out in front of him in one hand and the demon knife in the other, just in case. Suddenly, he’s jumped from behind. Something has latched onto his back and is trying to claw at him.

He struggles to get it off him. Finally throwing it to the ground, he sees….Ruby. He glances up and sees the moon, just like Patience said. She gets up and charges at him again, arms raised, hands clawed. The moon comes out from behind the clouds, and he gets a good look. Suddenly feeling relieved, he rushes forward knocks Ruby down then stabs her with the demon blade, killing her.  He hears the others, and looking up, he sees everyone, coming through the brush. Ruby isn’t with them.

The group panics that Sam has actually killed Ruby. The others circle Sam and ask how could he kill Ruby. Suddenly Ruby comes up behind the others telling them it’s not what they think. Sam tells them it was a shapeshifter that looked just like Ruby. He smiles and lifts her arm showing the others her blood spell scar in the moonlight. The shifter didn’t have one.

Henry and Meg hide the body in the underbrush.

[whirlybirbs]

               (   another gif by @unearthlydust​ from this beautiful set !   )

✪   —   VACANT MIRRORS  ;  B.B.  |  3/?

summary: you find out about bucky’s past, he finds out about yours. 

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 6.4k, va va voom

a/n: oh look out here comes the plot, charactization, and growth between to pals who are maybe starting to feel a little something begin to take shape. but ignore that, there’s danger afoot. no spoilers for tfatws here!

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“You know I have to ask these questions. It’s part of the check-in.”

“Yeah,” you fire back, flat enough to warrant Dr. Hart’s scowl to grow. You can’t see it over the phone, but you know the way her words whip around you means she’s upset, “I know.”

“If you’re not following the action plan set out by the judge,” she begins, leaning forward as her tone drops into a scalding hot sort of seriousness on the other end, “You will go to prison. You know this. So, do you want to spend ten years of your life behind bars? Are you trying to get yourself locked up? Come on.”

You can’t look up from your computer’s screen. Or maybe you can, but right now, there’s a dangerous mixture of anger and guilt and frustration boiling under your skin.

“I’m trying.”

“Trying isn’t good enough for the GRC,” Dr. Hart snaps, “You know this. They’re giving you a chance — they know you’re talented. You have the ability here to go straight, to earn a living, to finally make up for those years of blackhat work.”

“Everything I did,” you fire back, ripping your eyes up to meet Dr. Hart’s, “Was for others. I didn’t get a fucking penny.”

“You’re not Robin Hood,” she shakes her head as her tone softens, “We all make mistakes. But, everything has a consequence. You know this. And this conversation isn’t even considering the other charges.”

“You know the extortion case would never hold up in court.”

Dr. Hart sighs raggedly. “And I don’t intend on ever seeing it play out in court, because you’re going to follow the conditions of your pardon.”

“The GRC is a bunch of fascists—”

“Enough,” she snaps, “If you want to go and appeal your case with the judge, be my guest, but I can almost guarantee you’ll be perp-walked out of that Federal courtroom in cuffs.”

She’s right.

Dr. Hart is right.

Your knee is bouncing, up and down and up and down. You’re wound up around yourself, arms crossed tight, brows knotted. With a shaky exhale, you just nod. You breathe, and you remind yourself that she’s right. She’s right, she’s right, she’s right. It’s not worth it. Dipping yourself back into that world, the layer of the web beneath the surface, isn’t worth it.

The GRC is your way out.

Just be a good little girl and do as you're told.

“So, I’m going to ask you again,” Dr. Hart begins, pen clicking alive on the other end of the phone call, “...Have you engaged in any illegal activities online in the last seven days?”

                                                       ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦   

Inessa Sidrova’s photo stares up at him from its place on the speckled marble counter, stacked neatly next to his notebook where her name is scrawled in chicken scratch — between two other names: Zemo and Henrikson.

His laptop, technically on loan from the FBI, sits beside both.

(When Barnes had agreed in that closed doors meeting to the conditions of his pardon, a certain FBI agent by the name of Jimmy Woo had been rather insistent that Barnes needed a personal computer in order to carry out his portion of the conditions insofar as tracking down the remaining HYDRA pawns in the States. Woo had also insisted, to the agreement of Dr. Raynor, that a personal computer would help better acclimate Barnes to the new world he’d been dropped into.

Woo was even nice enough to take an hour of his own time to show Bucky enough to get started — but was whisked away for some investigation out in New Jersey.)

Bucky rubs the cold vibranium of his left palm into his eye, then exhales long and slow.

He’s done all he can. And still, no leads on the woman.

Rounding the kitchen island, he digs his cell from his pocket. He goes back to staring at that text — the one he’d laughed out loud at the moment it lit up his phone — and he can feel that ol’ bite of anxiousness creep into his arms. His fingertips tingle.

On the television, a laugh track plays over a clip of The Three Stooges. Blue eyes flick upward, and he partially wishes a ladder would put him out of his own self-induced misery.

Outside, the antics of a Saturday night in Brooklyn roll on.

In the last few days he’s parsed through his thoughts enough to realize it’s not telling you that scares him — no, it’s telling you the truth. The whole truth. All of it. After all, the good comes with a lot of bad; the sort of bad you chain in a chest and sink in the ocean. And Bucky finds that, even still, the good is questionable at best. The good is… small. Microscopic. Completely and totally tainted by the fuckin’ decades of brainwashed, war dog bullshit.

He groans and drops his head back against the wall.

He tries, for the next twenty minutes, to formulate some sort of reply to your text message. But, half the battle is figuring out what to say, and the other half is actually typing it out. This whole flip phone purchase was really starting to sting like regret — and as much as Bucky loved technology back before the war, and all the magical possibilities it held, he can’t help but feel like an ornery old man now.

It’s the change. Steve was right. Too much change.

He can’t find the space button and he can’t figure out how to delete the random 3 he’d accidentally punched in — so, with a grumpy huff of disapproval, Bucky simply dials your number.

You pick up on the third ring.

“Don’t you know it’s Saturday?” your voice is a welcomed sound, “The History Channel is running a bunch of old war documentaries you might enjoy, grandpa.”

Bucky snorts, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie. “What makes you think I’d wanna watch that shit?”

“Everyone knows that old men like two things,” your voice is light, half-distracted from the sounds of it, “World War Two, or grilling. And honestly, you don’t strike me as the grilling type.”

“I like a good burger.”

“Yeah?” you snort, and Bucky can hear you shift your phone from one ear to the other, “Is that why you called? To hint at being hungry?”

“No,” he exhales, looking out the window, “No, I was trying to reply to your text but I can’t find the fuckin’ space button. Calling is easier.”

“Oh my god—”

“Shut up,” he barks with a laugh, sitting up, “Don’t even start — are you hungry?”

“Almost always, why?”

“Got any plans tonight?”

“... You do know who you’re asking, right?”

Bucky grins, a little boyish and a little tired. “Good point. Loser.”

“Oh, shut up. You’re the one calling me to hangout,” you snort, leaning to prop your feet up on your desk and lean back. Your chair wheels backwards, far enough for you to get a good look down the street. It’s a nice night, cool enough, and it seems like the whole borough is awake, “But, I’m only hanging out if you tell me what the fuck is up with court mandated therapy. I can’t wait another three days.”

Your anxiety has been pricked the last few days over it.

“... Do I get to pick the place?”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

“Great,” he exhales tightly, “I hope you’re in the mood for sushi.”

                                                       ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦   

Izzy’s is busy, but there’s privacy in the bustle.

Bucky had buzzed your apartment’s ringer and you’d flown down the stairs, looking… alive. The sort of alive that was new — like a fresh bud beginning to bloom in spring. It had made him grin, and he’d watched you push a tress of hair behind your ear as you decided it was warm enough for no jacket tonight. The light of the crosswalk sign lit you up like a star.

He was sweating.

Dr. Raynor was right — that was it, of course it was — that it was getting too warm for his usual outfit. So, he’d settled on the next best thing: a sweatshirt that was big enough and black enough that he could bury himself in it. His hands are tucked neatly into the pockets.

No gloves tonight.

He feels naked.

He shoulders the door and holds it open with the toe of his boot as you duck towards the back of the restaurant. There’s a booth in the back by a large bamboo plant — you weave through the place with a new found confidence. There’s anxiousness in your shoulders but it melts when you look back at Bucky. Like a watchful guard dog, he nods.

You settle into the booth, toss your jacket in the corner, and smirk.

“I get out sometimes,” Bucky remarks before you can even say anything. He shifts in the booth and reaches up to scratch his cheek with his right hand, “Not often, but I do.”

“I didn’t say anything...”

“You were going to,” he nearly smirks back, his brows raised as he adjusts the chopsticks on the table, “I know that look.”

You snort, nudging his boot under the table. That works a huffed little laugh out the man across from you. Almost immediately you can sense anxiousness rolling off him — it’s the tightness in his mouth that gives him away, the way he’s fussing with the soy sauce dish and trying to get it to line up perfectly with the marbling on the table. Worry flashes in your eyes.

“Bucky.”

He raises his head.

“You alright?” you ask quietly.

“You have to promise not to flip out.”

Your brows knot tightly — but before you can even question what the fuck he means, he’s casually dropping his other hand onto the table.

And you almost don’t notice at first. Your brain fills the gaps in, figuring it’s his glove. But, then you blink and his hand catches the light and you realize it’s not leather. It’s glittering obsidian, garnished with gold, and it’s moving. Flexing. Seams bending and warping and there’s a gentle hum coming from the appendages and you squint because he’s tapping his fingers on the table and there’s a metallic tik-tik-tik that meets your ears.

Then, your eyes jump to his face.

He looks pained.

You’re confused.

And then you’re not.

“You’re —”

You slap a hand over your own mouth. You have to promise not to flip out. Your eyes are eighty miles wide and your jaw is falling open and you’re leaning forward, whispering in a rushed tone because what the fuck.

“You’re that Bucky?!”

Oh, you feel stupid.

The hostess appears, suddenly. You snap backwards in the booth, Bucky tucks his hand away, and you both muster forced smiles to the waitress. She’s young. Pretty. Her name-tag says Sarah.

She asks about drinks.

Bucky gets a beer.

Slowly, you knock your knuckles against the table and drop your head into your hand. The look on your face is exhausted. “Do you guys have Mai Tais?”

The answer is yes. And you’re glad. Because you’re going to fucking need it.

The two of you are quiet until the drinks come — avoiding one anothers gazes for completely different reasons. Bucky is sheepish, a bit mortified, like he always is when people recognize him. It’s why he shaved his fuckin’ head. It worked well enough but… the arm was usually a dead giveaway.

Meanwhile, you’re wondering if you could shave your own head and disappear. Because there’s no easy way to explain the weird elation swirling in your chest right now.

Bucky’s first to speak. His beer is in his good hand. He inhales quickly, eyes darting to you as he leans forward and whispers incredulously. He speaks quickly and his words are pointed with an edge of curiosity.

“...What do you mean ‘that Bucky’?”

“Y’know, I knew there was a reason you acted like you needed a senior citizen discount. And you know exactly what I mean,” you rush out all while waving your Mai Tai and jabbing the side with the umbrella towards him, “Listen, this is a lot to take in, Mr. Avenger.”

“I am not an Avenger—”

“You helped reverse the Snap. You’re the Winter Soldier. That makes you an Avenger—”

Bucky’s shaking his head, eye screwed shut tightly because the sudden equation to his past self being considered a hero is like being socked in the mouth. He stutters over his words and shakes his head more vigorously, like he’s trying not to hear what you’re saying.

“I am not the Winter Soldier. Not anymore. And it’s not like I’m not on the fuckin’ roster, doll—”

You hold a finger up, stopping him there, and take a long sip of your sunset colored drink. You swallow. You exhale. Bucky swigs his beer.

“One, don’t call me doll,” you say curtly, then raise a second finger. You lean in and squint, “Two… Christ, the haircut really makes a big difference, doesn’t it?”

“That’s what everyone keeps saying,” he sighs raggedly, dismissing your scrutiny.

You puff your cheeks out and exhale. Leaning back in the booth, you try not to feel so fucking insane.

“...I can never have you over now.”

Bucky’s brows narrow quickly and his eyes snap to yours. “What?”

“I can’t have you over,” you explain slower with your eyes rooted to the soy sauce in the corner, “Because I don’t think I could ever handle you seeing my signed and framed Captain America poster from his USO tour in 1943.”

Bucky’s face is deadpan. “You’re kidding.”

“I really wish I was,” you gripe, “It’s an original.”

“...You’re a Cap girl,” he says suddenly, leaning back with this look in his eye. It’s less of a question. You can’t pin it down. It looks like he's damn near traumatized.

Bucky thinks — honestly — that this is the cherry on top. Every girl back then was a Cap girl, too. It figures, now, in this new century where he’s making new friends that… as per usual, Steve gets the cake. That fuckin’ pint sized bastard.

He’ll have to tell him about this.

You yank your eyes up to Bucky’s face. His mortification is shifting to surprise to amusement. You’re fast to sit up, mouth opening to fire a retort — but Bucky’s suddenly really enjoying the look of pure horror on your face at the insinuation. He’s smirking. Plain as day. He swigs his beer.

“No, no—” you raise a finger, “No, stop it. Don’t make it fuckin’ weird, Bucky, it’s not like I have his name tattoo’d on my ass. And I knew a girl in college who did.”

His brows rise sharply and you’re finding you’re regretting everything that’s coming out of your mouth.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you guffaw, gesturing for him to show you his hand again, “I wanna see.”

Bucky sighs and plucks his hand from his hoodie pocket.

With a sort of tenderness Bucky wasn’t prepared to handle, you take his metallic hand into your own. There’s an immediate twinge — one that’s procured by flashes of violence from years of being a walking weapon. He breathes, and he reminds himself that this arm is not the same that tethered him to HYDRA all those years ago.

This arm is his, it is not him.

The sensation is different. He isn’t used to anyone touching him like this; he’s used to the feeling of flesh on the other end of a punch, or a throat caught in his palm. Not the gentle pass of your fingers, delicate and purposeful, over his knuckles.

You turn over his hand, eyes alight with curiosity — and Bucky, desperate to stamp out the hotness growing in his gut, moves quickly to flick your nose.

“Ow—”

“Don’t stare,” he says coyly, “It’s rude.”

The waitress is back. His hand is tucked away, and you wrestle the stupid expression off your face long enough to order a plate of assorted maki rolls and some fried tofu. Bucky orders what seems like his usual — shrimp tempura and spicy tuna rolls.

The waitress, Sarah, disappears with a smile.

You’re grinning.

“So… Does this make me the sidekick?” you whisper playfully.

“Shut up,” Bucky laughs, his lips almost darting into a smile.

You cock your head, pushing your chopsticks across the table with a horribly coy look on your face. It’s comical. “...I think this makes me the sidekick.”

“It — stop it — it does not make you the sidekick,” Bucky says slowly as he sips his beer and pins you in the booth across from him, “I’m not a hero. You’d have better luck asking Cap on that one.”

You grow silent. There’s a question hanging on your tongue. You’re wrestling with yourself — Bucky can see that much. He frowns.

“Spit it out, Goose.”

You blink. “Was that a Top Gun reference?”

“You wanted to be the sidekick.”

You wave it off, blinking into your Mai Tai. Your voice is quiet. Even as you speak, there’s a hesitancy akin to walking on eggshells. “What happened to Cap? Is he… alive? He’s gone off the grid. It’s, like, this massive conspiracy theory online.”

“He’s upstate.”

You blink.

“That’s ominous.”

Bucky shrugs. “Someday I’ll take you. It’s… nice.”

You go quiet. You freeze, drink halfway to your mouth. Bucky can’t help but smirk at that. His laugh is more of a scoff than anything.

“Relax, Miss America.”

“Shut up — do you mean that?”

“What, that I think you’re in love with Captain America?”

“No, you bastard, that you’ll take me. To meet him.”

Bucky’s words are easy. They roll off his tongue without a second thought. He feels… okay. Like this part is okay. Not as bad as he thought it could be. His anxiousness isn’t as heavy now. He feels like he isn’t losing you. But then again, he hasn’t gotten to the bad part yet.

“He’s my best friend,” Bucky explains plainly, “And so are you.”

The admission is warm. As easy as breathing. Two months in the making.

“Your only friend,” you say quietly, offering the joke as a cover for the softening tone that dances over your words. It’s affection, you realize, as you mimic his shrug, “But, go on.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Bucky chirps, “But, yea, I mean it. He’d like you.”

You raise your chin, wiggling a bit in the booth. It’s pride — and as much as Bucky likes the look of it, he can’t handle the ridiculousness that comes along with it. But, it’s sort of comforting. He knows this playfulness, this easiness, it’s all because he’s him. You trust him. In.a way, it strikes Bucky with guilt. There are wall of his still built up high. Maybe they’re slowly coming down, but… he’s like a stray dog, slow to trust.

“Safe to say,” you breathe, “I have a few questions.”

“I figured as much.”

You sip your drink and swallow. You raise a hand. “But — I wanna know the boundaries. I don’t want to… I don’t want to pry about shit I have no business knowing, alright? It’s your life and even if we are friends, I don’t need to know everything.”

The relief is almost immediate. He thumbs the label of his beer.

“Ask anything. But I can’t promise I’ll be able to give you the answers.”

“And I’ll leave it at that,” you say sternly, propping your elbow up on the table and offering your pinky finger, “Until you want to talk about it. Promise.”

He crooks his pinky in yours, squeezing gently. You smile.

Sarah comes back with the food, and then Bucky offers his usual half-exhausted, half-amused smirk.

“You get three questions now. Then, we shut up and eat.”

You fold your hands neatly over themselves, eyeing your food as you try your best to sort out what questions come up with the most urgency. There’s… a lot. I mean, everyone knew about the Avengers — and everyone had their opinions. The Sokovia Accords, Lagos, the Blip… and SHIELD. Years of bullshit culminating around those who were considered the heroes. The kickback usually ended up on everyday citizens like you. After the initial amazement, the reality of it all set in.

But, to Bucky’s point, he wasn’t really an Avenger.

Nowadays, there really wasn’t a team at all. No up-state compound, no leader, no Stark and no Rogers.

You’re sure the GRC will try — that the military will try. Morale and hope and blah, blah, blah.

You narrow your eyes. “How old are you?”

It’s quick. “One hundred and six.”

“How’d they keep you alive that long?”

There’s a wince that flashes across his face like he’s been stabbed with a white hot poker in the ribs. You see a twitch of irritation bubble across his lips. Not with you. No, it’s that this question is still hard for him to answer. Bucky exhales sharply.

“Next question.”

You feel a pang of guilt flare in your chest. You move along.

“Who kept you alive that long?”

“The Russians. HYDRA, if you wanna get specific.”

You exhale and settle on the fact you now have more questions than answers. But, you nod and snatch up your chopsticks. Enough of the twenty questions game.

In all honesty, it’s not like Bucky’s existence was common knowledge. The Winter Soldier was known mostly, sure, to those who had floated in the same circles as him when he was nothing but a rabid cur on a choke chain. He can’t help but be a bit thankful for the minor erasure of his new self — sure, in the eyes of the U.S. government he was a high-level threat to be reintegrated as soon as possible and surveyed at all times. But, to the average New Yorker, he was just another person. Everyone was so used to seeing the heroes in their costumes with their bigger than life personas and…

Bucky was just Bucky.

Even he didn’t really know who that was. He was starting to.

His pardon had come with some flak from some of the more political news outlets but… somehow, the details of the Winter Soldier’s exact crimes were being kept silent. Probably to avoid panic. And, even then, the connection between the newly alive James Buchanan Barnes and The Winter Soldier hadn’t been made yet in the public eye. He was glad.

The haircut definitely helped.

It’s like he was a walking classified redaction.

Bucky has a sushi roll in his mouth when he finally speaks. “For such a Captain American fan, I’m surprised you didn’t recognize me.”

“Oh, you’re really not gonna let that go, huh?” you say as you chew, covering your mouth. You swallow and waggle your chopsticks at him, “Listen, it’s been a while since I’ve… y’know, had my Avengers phase. That was years ago. It was at its peak when I worked for SHIELD. And besides, you’re kinda new to the whole superhero scene.”

Bucky frowns. “You worked for SHIELD...?”

“For a year,” you say tightly, “Back before the collapse.”

“Only a year?”

“It was for my graduate program,” you wave it off, “I won out on the most competitive internship NYU had to offer. I was working within their cybersecurity division. I will say I spent more time trying to sort of email phishing scams than anything else, though. I’m sure they saw my record and wanted to keep me away from the juicy stuff.”

Bucky squints.

You offer a sheepish shrug.

“I got into trouble when I was younger,” you sip your drink and sigh, “I always liked computers. I used to spend all my time on forum sites just… reading and talking to people and figuring out how these sites actually worked, so learning how to write my own code was just the next step. When I was fifteen, I learned how to tap phones. At sixteen, I was hijacking my neighbor’s internet conenctions and remotely controlling his laptop.”

“Sounds like a good time.”

“Yea, well, he was a sitting Senator who was having an affair with the nanny,” you mutter, “And I was stupid enough to try and blackmail him for cash. I wish I could say I learned my lesson.”

Bucky exhales long and hard at that, like he knows where that snap of misguided judgement goes. It’s not like he’s passing judgement onto you, but… like he knows the feeling. And you manage to not feel so small, then — telling him this is easy. It’s not your favorite part of your life by any means, but Bucky is listening. Really listening.

He fiddles with the paper wrapper of the chopsticks.

“So, less a Goose and more a Kevin Poulsen type, huh?”

You snort. “For an old man, I’m surprised you know who that is. But, I wasn’t hacking into the Pentagon at seventeen. I was too busy doing community service.”

“HYDRA had their eyes on him in the 90s,” Bucky mumbles through a bite of spicy tuna, the memory popping into his mind and flying out before he can stop it, “I remember… I thought his username was stupid.”

“Oh, you didn’t like Dark Dante?”

“Like I said,” Bucky chortles, “Stupid.”

“You wouldn’t have liked mine, then,” you smirk lightly, “It’s worse.”

Bucky raises his brows, somehow doubting that entirely. “Really?”

“...I was hackrabb1t for a long time. Y’know, with a ‘one’ for the ‘i’,” you cringe, “People kept thinking I was a furry.”

There’s a pause. Bucky’s face is set in an unreadable emotion. It’s confusion mixed with amusement mixed with… something else. When he speaks, he clears his throat and tilts his head.

“It’s clever. But,” a pause, “What is a furry? I’ve been seeing that word all over PlentyOfFish.”

Your jaw flies open. You raise your hands as your head reels around. Bucky has a look on his face like he knows, he knows he shouldn’t have asked and he definitely shouldn’t have given you enough context to know where he’s seen that phrase before, because now you’re looking at him like he has seventeen heads and they’re all on fire.

“Y’know what, nevermind—”

“—Oh, no, no, there’s way too much to unpack here,” you lean forward, “You’re on PlentyOfFish?”

“ChristianMingle wasn’t really my speed — stop laughing.”

“Shut up — stop it, stop — this is too much,” you say with a high voice, “If you get catfished, I’m not helping you track the person down…”

“—What the hell is a catfish?” he nearly cries, raising both hands in a desperate shrug, “I don’t even know what any of these words mean.”

“Oh, you sweet, naive, innocent, man—”

“No, no, no, no,” he chirps, raising a finger with a deadly look of seriousness on his face, “No, I am not naive or sweet or any of the above. I’ll take ‘cute’, sure, but none a’ those.”

“Is that what the furries call you on PlentyOfFish? Cute?”

He drops his head back against the booth and stares at the ceiling.

“Our friendship was a mistake, rabbit.”

You choke out a laugh. “Shut up, you walking claw machine.”

You’re both laughing now — quieter but sustained and everytime you think you’ve calmed down enough to sip your Mai Tai, you just have to look at the distraught, scruffy man across from you to break into another fit of muffled laughter. Finally, after what feels like forever, you both manage to calm down enough to finish the plates in front of you.

There’s a warmth that’s settled in Bucky’s chest — it’s eaten away at the usual jitter in his legs, the anxious twitch of his fingers. It’s a different emotion. Acceptance, maybe. Comfort. Affection.  

Then, while you’re piling the last bit of sushi rice into your mouth when your phone, set on the side of the table, begins to go off. It hums erratically, dancing in a circle, and all you do is stare at the name flashing across the screen. You’re smiling, hugging her. It’s from Jaimie’s wedding — out in some big, wide open orchard with the sun setting behind you. The picture there is old; you were both different people then.

Before… everything.

MOM Morristown, NJ

You scowl and stare.

Bucky blinks.

“You gonna get that?”

Quickly, you snap out of it. You reach and silence the buzzing with two quick taps. Quietly, you offer up a somber sigh.

“I never do.”

Bucky frowns again, this time with a worried look that digs deep into his eyebrows. You ignore it on purpose, pushing your plate away and leaning back in the booth. He knows what you’re doing — you’re avoiding his gaze, and therefore his own questions.

“Rabbit.”

“Oh, is that my new nickname, then?”

“It fits,” he chirps before crossing his arms, strategically hiding his metallic hand, “What’s up?”

You grow quiet — then it spills out.

“I can’t talk to her.”

“Why?”

You chew your lip. You bite your tongue and you hold back on the finer points of your anger — ones dredged up by the still present sting of your check-in with Dr. Hart this afternoon.

Here it comes.

“As a part of my pardon, I was ordered no-contact with my family,” you exhale, controlling the level of your voice, reciting the court papers you’d read over and over and over, “It was deemed that further contact would impact my progress towards reformed behavior and judgment.”

Bucky’s eyes are wide. His jaw is tight.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘pardon’?”

It’s your turn to cross your arms now, to ignore the sting of his look. It’s the kind that screams disappointment more than anything. You hate that you’re getting it from Bucky of all people.

“Like I said, I didn’t learn my lesson when I was a kid,” you shirk, “Last year I was arrested on a number of counts — I’d been evading the FBI, CIA, all of them, for years. I was doing it all for people like me. The ones who got left behind.”

Bucky’s tone is flat. It’s serious. His next sentence is less of a question, more of an order. The cadence is rhythmic and it reminds you of your brother the night he found out about the first time you’d been arrested; you decide, then, that Jaimie and Bucky would have gotten along.

“What did you do?”

“Whatever I could,” you wave your hands, “Identity theft, falsified documents, insurance fraud. Anything. There were people, like me, that in a blink, lost everything. Accidents, deaths, evictions and no one did anything for us. The insurance agencies wouldn’t cover damages related to The Snap. Life insurance policies, social security… It all got snatched up by people at the top while the system collapsed around us. I had to pay for my brother’s funeral out of pocket. And there were hundreds of thousands of people just like me, just trying to get by. And everything failed us.”

Bucky is stuck in silence. It’s like mud, dragging him to the bottom of a pond — the sort that’s dredged with misery. In an instant, his veins are on fire with an anger he hadn’t felt in a while. It manifests itself in the tightening of his jaw. He rubs his face and props his elbows up on the table.

“Why won’t they let you see your family?”

You fiddle with your napkin.

“My brother… His wife was on maternity leave when she disappeared in the Blip,” you mutter, “She came back to no job, a dead husband, and no home. Their apartment complex had been abandoned. She’s trying her best to make ends meet. She lives with my Mom in our old home. Neither of them can find work. They… The court thought that I’d be influenced to do something if I was around them.”

“What, like help?”

“They see me as a criminal,” you manage, “But I’m useful, so they’re keeping me around.”

Silence falls between the two of you once more — and the sad look on your face makes Bucky’s chest tight. He can see anxiety beginning to spill over; you’re wringing the napkin, fiddling with the edges. Suddenly, Bucky realizes you’re feeling exactly how he was an hour or so ago.

Your voice is soft. “I’m sorry. I was going to tell you.”

“Looks like we’re two birds of a feather,” he says, knocking the toe of your sneaker with his boot, “Listen, we all do stupid shit. I’ve got a lot worse weighing me down. I get it.”

You look up, sadness glistening in your expression like sun off a lake. It’s harsh. He wants to look away.

He doesn’t.

“... So, that means you’re good with computers?”

                                                      ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦  

That’s how you find yourself in Bucky’s Brooklyn apartment at almost midnight, wandering behind him in the long halls and watching curiously as he digs his key from his pocket and shoulders the door open.

It’s a small apartment. One bed, one bath, a kitchenette and that’s really it.

For its size, it’s hardly lived in.

You suppose it makes sense — Bucky didn’t have a lot of personal belongings, and with the hints he’d dropped about his life before The Blip, you were beginning to understand that he may have never really had that much to begin with.

There’s a blanket on the floor by the television and a single couch pillow. It’s tucked in the corner, behind a small sofa. There’s a chair in the living room, one from an old dining set. At the kitchen counter, there’s a stack of papers and a single laptop. Even though all the kitchen’s wares are older models, the bones of the apartment are good. Bare, but good.

You stop in the doorway to the bedroom and stare at the untouched bed. The sheets are tucked tightly in the corners — there’s something militaristic about it. Across the hall is the bathroom. It’s small. You can see a few amenities scattered across the sink’s top.

Being in here feels something like an open wound.

It was lonely. Quiet. Cold.

“We need to make a trip to HomeGoods,” you mumble as Bucky flicks on the lights, “I get the whole minimalist thing, but sheesh.”

“I don’t have a lot,” he says, kicking off his boots by the door and shrugging off his jacket, “And I don’t need a lot either.”

You watch as his shoulders sag a bit, like he can finally let down his guard just a little in his own space. It’s endearing. You perch yourself up on the kitchen counter as your eyes follow him; he moves to fling open a cabinet and grabs a mug. Then, he hesitates.

“You want tea?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Tea?”

“Dr. Raynor said,” Bucky reaches for a container of tea bags from the top shelf. His henley lifts enough to flash a bit of skin along his lower back and you swear you see a scar, “It would help with my anxiety.”

You swing your legs a little. “Then sure.”

“You can use my Captain America mug,” he chirps, laughing a little to himself, “Seeing as you’re such a big fan…”

“God, I regret even saying anything to you,” you spit as you hop down and lean around him to get a look at the mug, “Did you seriously buy that?”

“It was a gift.”

“Bullshit.”

Bucky snorts as you shake your head and wander backwards, eyeing the rest of his apartment with a bit of astonishment. It’s really nothing impressive — but, you suppose it makes sense. Whatever meager disbursement that the government was willing to give Bucky for his efforts in fixing the Snap was better than nothing.

Your gaze hangs on the blanket in the corner.

He watches you; and he notes the sore sadness that dissolves your posture at the sight of the nest in the corner. A bit of shame colors his cheeks as he heats up the water. When Bucky speaks, it’s slow.

“The bed was too soft. I couldn’t sleep on it,” he shifts from foot to foot and focuses on taking the tea bags out and methodically wrapping the strings around the handles, “Dr. Raynor said that’s a typical thing for soldiers to experience when they come home from war.”

You’re quiet for a while after that, only speaking when he rounds the counter with your tea. He offers it up with a tilt of the head.

“You never got to come home, though, right?”

“No,” comes the short reply as you both watch the lights outside the window, “No, I didn’t. Not until now.”

You nudge his arm with yours. You lean a bit. Bucky leans back.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he manages after a sigh and sip of the tea, “I can’t just feel sorry for myself anymore. I’m trying to fix the wrongs I did — and that’s why I need your help.”

You quirk a brow. He reaches around you and grabs the stack of papers on the counter. With a steady grip, Bucky presents the photo of a woman who looks strikingly familiar. You can’t place her face, but there’s something about her that feels like a slap across the cheek. She’s young here, in a faded photo with tattered edges. Beside her is a man who is laughing. The photo is candid, and they’re both beautiful. They’re both  wearing a uniform — but you can’t place the era or location.

You turn to Bucky for answers.

“Back in the 70s, at the height of the Cold War, HYDRA was working in tandem with the Russians to spy on American forces,” he offers easily, staring out the window, “The American HYDRA cell hadn’t yet been planted. This man, Andrei Kuznetzov, was a spy. He was feeding the Americans information on the Russian nuclear program. His wife, the one in the photo, was ordered to kill him. She refused.”

Bucky’s fingers twitch.

His words are soaked through with pain.

“I,” he continues, “killed him.”

You hold your breath. Then you spare him a mournful look.

“Inessa Sidrova went on to help form the same HYDRA cell that ended up taking over SHIELD here in America,” Bucky mumbles, “She’s dangerous. There’s others like her, ones who I helped create, all over the world. But, she’s my top priority. I just haven’t had much luck tracking her down.”

“That’s why you need my help.”

“I’m 106 years old,” Bucky deadpans, “The microfiches at the library were getting a little tedious.”

“But,” you chirp with a sly smirk, “You figured out how to set up a PlentyOfFish account?”

He shoulders you again as you sip your tea and laugh.

“Shoulda never said anything,” Bucky grumbles, “Dr. Raynor thought it was a good idea. Y’know, to get back out in the world.”

“I can promise you,” you say with a stern shake of the head, “The metal arm will get you plenty of chicks and dudes in due time.”

“Good to know,” Bucky replies as his words lilt with a playful sort of questioning that you purposefully ignore. You’re not feeding his ego today. Maybe tomorrow, after you take a crack at figuring out where this woman is.

It’s going to be a long night.

[ramblesanddragons]

Your hot drink is stirring itself.

You watch in shock as it does so and resist the screaming in your head telling you to run. You resist calling your partner because that would be admitting that they were right, and the place was haunted. They were right of course but you’d deal with the playful “I told you so” later. You have to focus on the right now. It takes several deep breaths before you decide how you’re going to handle this.

You start by clearing your throat and the stirring stops, the spoon dropping onto the saucer with a clatter.

“Um hello?”

No response.

“Hey, I didn’t scare you off, did I? Look I just want to talk.”

The radio in the kitchen buzzes and you follow the sound. You adjust the dial until you hear the faintest of noises.

“He-o”

“Hi there. So, turns out my spouse was right. Go figure. Do you have a name? I feel bad just calling you The Ghost.”

The radio buzzed. “Martha.”

“I guess you know our names by now. I’m sorry if we’re disturbing you.”

You got a bit of non-descript static in response. The worse thing they’ve done so far is they keep moving where you keep the bread. A few doors have shut too but it’s less slamming and more a gentle push.

“Is there a way that we can make our stay here better for you? Because this...this place is all we can afford. The housing market was a nightmare. I think I know why we got a semi-decent price on this place now.”

“L-lonely,” Martha said.

“Oh, we can fix that. I’m working from home right now. Probably will be for a while. We can hang out when I’m not on a call.”

“Do...ou..lke..scrab...?”

“Do I like... scrabble? I love scrabble.” You picked up the radio and placed it on the table next to your laptop. There was a sound almost like a relieved laugh. “Let me go get my game.”

[4awny]

UPDATE ALERT: A Helping Hand

Cartman leaned in to get a closer look. "So that's where you've been."

"I'm running on fumes right now, so I need to get there tonight or I'm gonna be stranded out here."

"What the hell are you doing all the way in Nevada?" Kyle questioned and reached out to grab his laptop sitting on top of the dresser. The tips of his wiggling fingers just about made contact, when Cartman abruptly swiped it away.

"You asshole."

Cartman dropped the laptop onto his lap. "I'm trying to help you, retard."

Usually when the brunette did something nice, it was either to benefit himself or he expected something in return. Kyle eyed him like the sceptic that he was.

"I'll tell ya what. When I get back, I'll come and tuck you into bed, read ya a nice bedtime story and I can tell you all about my lil trip up here in The Silver State. Sound good?"

"Sounds great." Kyle agreed, despite wanting to know more. "Maybe then we could actually celebrate your birthday."

"Ah, and there's me thinking y'all forgot."

"I didn't forget." Cartman confessed proudly. "I knew and then made a conscious decision to not give a fuck."

"Heh." It took Kenny a moment to think of something to come back with. And then he remembered all about the juicy material he had on him. The smirk could be heard in his voice. "You got a habit of ignoring things, ya know that?"

Kyle was too distracted with setting up his laptop to notice the sudden change in the brunette's expression. "Cartman's got a lot of habits, Kenny."

"You know what, Kyle? You are so right, he does! You wanna know what my favourite one is?"

"Kenny." Cartman warned when he felt his face starting to flush.

"Okay, okay. Seeing as we're best buds and all, I won't go into it. Like the good friend that I am, I ain't saying nuthin."

He knew what game Kenny was playing. He knew, because he would have done the exact same thing if he managed to play his cards right. "Fuck you."

Kyle paid no attention to the conversation and assumed they were just talking shit to each other. "Photo's kinda blurry, dude. I'll fix the resolution and then I'll look for anything that stands out so I can pinpoint where it is. Might take a while."

"Thanks, man. You're a big help. I would kiss ya if I could." He snickered and Cartman could sense a storm heading his way. "Actually, second thought, I better not. If I did that, Cartman might-"

"BAH BAH BAH, ENOUGH." He swiped the phone from Kyle's grasp and quickly switched off the loud speaker. When his ear met with hysterical laughter, his blood boiled and he growled out, like a bear protecting a secret. "I swear to god, you scrawny piece of shit, the next time I see you?! I'm gonna take a knife and kill you my goddamn self! Slow and painful, how about that?!"

"Ha! Bring it on, asshole. You're the one that outed me first. Mama always told me you get what ya get and you got what ya got. And you wanna know something? I have no fucking clue what she was talking about. Still don't. But I think I get it now. So yeah, you can go ahead and kiss my scrawny piece of shit ass. Yer fucking prick."

Cartman spat with pure rage. "You fucking-!"

"Cartman."

Kyle's calm voice flinched him away from the phone. "What?!" He barked and regretted it immediately. Hearing the sound of the hangup dial, Cartman took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly. He rubbed the bridge of his nose as a means of calming himself down before handing the phone back to its rightful owner.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31878976/chapters/88707868

Chapter 24 - A Helping Hand

[charlie-minion]

Could the same SPN finale make a little more sense with some additions/changes?

I’ve had the idea for this post stuck in my head for days now, but with every new conspiracy theory and every new eventuality in the fandom, it became difficult to cool down enough to write something less ship-related and more narrative-focused.

What Supernatural and non-SPN fans have to understand is that a lot of us have expressed disappointment and frustration after 15x20, not because of Destiel (that’s just one part of the whole problem), but because the finale doesn’t make sense. Everything was leading up to something beautifully crafted until the end of 15x19. Beyond that, it’s hard to understand what happened. The story rendered all the character growth irrelevant, invalidated the themes of free will and “family don’t end in blood”, regressed to the original brother codependency they spent 15 years trying to overcome, made a queer non-binary character in a male vessel and a deaf female character basically disposable, and kept the show’s reputation of queerbaiting and misogyny until its very last breath.

That’s not going out with a bang! At least not a positive one. We all were ready to mourn Supernatural, but we wanted to feel proud of its legacy, and somehow TPTB managed to tarnish that legacy in less than 45 minutes. What a way to ruin the other more than 13,600 minutes of story!

It doesn’t matter who is to blame (The CW, Robert Singer, Andrew Dabb). It doesn’t matter why it happened (homophobia, censorship, marketing for Walker, bad writing). What matters is that at the end of the day, the finale that aired is what we got and that’s going to hurt for a long time. It hurts even more when we realize that the same finale could have easily made more sense, even without being perfect.

That’s what I want to do in this post. I want to show you how things would have been less jarring (for the fandom), while still keeping the goal to please the general audience.

Before I begin rewriting 15x20, I have to mention that I talked to my conservative boomer sister about the finale. She hasn’t watched the second half of season 15 yet (she’s waiting for Netflix to have it), but she’s been watching the show for a long time (she introduced me to it 8 years ago). She’s the perfect example of a viewer from the general audience. Loves the show but doesn’t give a second thought to it and definitely isn’t paying attention to character development or themes. Doesn’t engage with fandom, actors, or any of the show’s social media. Pure GA! When I told her the series finale had aired, she asked me about it and I refused to give her spoilers. Because of that, she told me the ending SHE wanted. She said she would be happy with either of two possibilities: the boys retiring and finally living a normal life OR they going to heaven and finding peace at last. She saw Sam and Dean as a unit, which means: both retiring or both going to heaven. AND she saw Cas as part of that, too. She wasn’t so sure about Jack. And for her, we could use the “Eileen who?” and it wouldn’t be a joke. She didn’t remember her.

NOW IT’S TIME TO WRITE A NEW VERSION OF 15X20 (KEEPING 15X18 AND 15X19 EXACTLY THE SAME AS THEY AIRED). This will be a very long post:

The opening remains almost the same. No “Carry on my wayward son” to induce feels. Too soon and too predictable! (Reasoning: Everyone was expecting it to play right there, so it would bring more tears at the end)

In the opening, after the scene where Jack says “People won’t need to pray to me or sacrifice to me”, we also see the scene from 15x19 where he says “I won’t be hands on”. Then we see the rest of the opening as it was. (Reasoning: People needed to be reminded that Jack would NOT intervene and that’s why later on, he would NOT save Dean).

We get the same montage, but when Sam takes a break from his morning run, we see him reading a message on his phone. A simple: “Hey Sam, what’s new?” from Eileen. Sam smiles fondly and begins to type a response we don’t get to see. The next scene continues the same, Sam making breakfast. (Reasoning: A text was a very simple way to show that Eileen was alive and still in communication with Sam).

The montage slowly ends as Sam enters the library (not after he sits down). He seems to be talking on the phone but we only hear an “I’ll tell him. Bye”. As he walks towards the table, he tells Dean: “Charlie says hi. Mentioned something about Stevie’s perfect scrambled eggs we have to try.” Dean’s answer is “Awesome!” (Reasoning: Just ONE line was needed to unbury Charlie and her girlfriend. ONE LINE).

Sam sits down, opens his laptop and everything continues the same. The title card shows for the last time.

YOU SEE? In the first 4 minutes they could have acknowledged that THREE WOMEN were alive and safe: Eileen, Charlie and Stevie. It wasn’t hard! Don’t blame bad writing on Covid! Now let’s continue.

Sam and Dean arrive at the Pie Fest just the same. Dean goes to get some “damn pie” and Sam takes out his phone. He dials and when someone picks up, he says “Hey, Jody, how are ya?” We don’t hear the rest of the conversation. The scene moves to Dean coming with his 6 portions of pie. Dean sits down and Sam tells him, “Talked to Jody. The other hunters haven’t had much work lately.” “That’s good, isn’t it?”, Dean says. All we get from Sam is “Yeah.” So, Dean looks at him and asks “what’s wrong?” like it happened in the episode. (Reasoning: Again, a couple of lines to make sure the people that were killed in 15x18 are safe and remembered by the boys in 15x20. Why is this important? Because they’re family!)

The conversation about Sam’s sad face happens the same. Sam is the one that mentions Cas and Jack. (Reasoning: Because this episode was so Sam-centered, it’s obvious he was the protagonist in the finale. If we see him communicating with Eileen, Charlie, and Jody, then it’s NORMAL, even expected of him to be the one to bring up Cas and Jack). Without these additions, it’s harder for people to understand that most of the finale was NOT from Dean’s POV but from Sam’s.

Dean’s “if we don’t keep living, then all that sacrifice is gonna be for nothing” stays the same. (Reasoning: I believe it’s necessary that the show sticks to the importance of “letting go” and “what is dead should stay dead” for the first time ever because the message is “even when you lose someone you love, you can still find some form of happiness and keep living, for you and for them, because that’s what they would have wanted”. Bringing someone back means “I can’t live without you”, and that’s just more codependency. It’s how the demon deals began in the Winchester family –Mary being the first one to do it. This would explain why Dean didn’t ask Jack to bring Cas back, as he asked Chuck. He understood Jack was NOT going to interfere anymore and accepted it. Besides, when Cas saved Dean from hell, Dean thought he didn’t deserve to be saved. This time that Cas saved him, Dean finally feels worthy enough to accept that YES, HE DESERVED TO BE SAVED ALL ALONG, just as much as he deserved to be loved by that angel of the Lord. In this scene, Dean also says that the pain is not gonna go away, which means that from HIS PERPECTIVE, it still hurts that Cas is not there. The problem is that the finale is not showing his POV but Sam’s.  

Sam pies Dean on the face just the same. (Reasoning: That part was just to avoid ending the scene on a sad note).

Everything related to the case happens exactly the same. (Reasoning: At this point, people don’t really care about the MoTW, they care about Sam and Dean).

NOTE 1: The case is important to show that even when the Winchesters are finally free of Chuck’s influence, they CHOOSE to keep hunting. It isn’t something they do out of revenge or because it is their destiny anymore. Maybe they were forced into the life at first, but they’ve learned to find joy in saving people. Being hunters is who they are. However, the fact that a job application was shown on Dean’s desk is also important because it means he was willing to explore what else was there for him besides hunting. Maybe he could find a balance? Maybe he was thinking it was time to quit? We will never know! The thing is that Sam only finds out about it when he goes into Dean’s room after his brother is dead, so maybe that’s when it hits him that Dean wanted to explore his options, and Sam starts to think it’s time for him to do the same.  

NOTE 2: I believe the masks the vampires are wearing is something we can blame on covid. If they had their faces covered, it was easier to use people from the SPN crew for some scenes, instead of using more actors unnecessarily.

NOTE 3: When Sam and Dean arrive at the barn, we get 3 visuals to remember Cas in the same scene (those are for the fandom, not for the general audience): a) the barn, obviously; b) the bag that resembles Cas’ trenchcoat so much that many people thought that’s what it was; and c) two feathers hanging on Dean’s right when he opens the trunk.

The scene with the throwing star happens the same. (Reasoning: The episode is still told from Sam’s point of view, so it makes sense that he fondly sees his brother as a man child).

Jenny the vampire? Uhhh… I mean, it’s not the best piece of writing I’ve ever seen, but it’s not the worst, so okay. That stays the same. (Reasoning: There is none, but she’s not what really ruined the finale, so whatever!)

Dean still dies impaled on a rebar. (Reasoning: OK. HERE ME OUT!!! I hate as much as everyone else that Dean is killed. I think it’s lazy writing, but that’s what we got and I can’t change that in this re-write, so if killing Dean is what we have to work around, then, memes aside, death by rebar is better and here’s why. There’s no one to blame for Dean’s death: no Chuck (the boys were willingly hunting even after Chuck was defeated), no vampires (they were all killed and were no real threat, so it was impossible for Sam to begin a quest for revenge against all vampires. What was Sam going to blame? A rebar? Can you kill it? Hunt it? NO. It was an ordinary death, a stupid accident. Just like any person can die at any moment by slipping on a banana peel. Is it a good death? No, but it’s good to know he doesn’t die trying to save Sam or Cas, because Dean Winchester is NOT willing to give up his life in exchange for anyone else’s anymore.

Sam takes out his phone and says he’ll call for help, but his phone is more visible to the audience. He dials and it’s almost to his ear when Dean stops him and Sam hesitantly hangs up. (Reasoning: People have complained that Sam didn’t call an ambulance, but actually he tried to. It’s just that people missed that part, maybe?)

After Sam puts his phone back in his pocket and says “OK” to Dean, he adds, “I’ll pray to Jack”. Dean’s immediate answer is: “No hands on, remember?” “But Dean”, Sam says, and Dean interrupts him with “OK listen to me” and tells Sam what to do with the kids they rescued. (Reasoning: Jack is God now and how come Sam didn’t remember? The viewers remembered, so it was necessary to include a line that ruled the option out and that showed Dean didn’t want Jack to intervene. The rest was fine).

The lines “You knew it was always gonna end like this for me. It was supposed to end like this, right?” disappear completely from Dean’s monologue. (Reasoning: This is the most problematic part of Dean’s dying speech. He fought God and earned free will, he is no longer controlled by fate or destiny. Accepting that he is supposed to die on a hunt regresses his character development and denies his desire to keep living. This was a total mistake and should be removed).

Instead, if going to heaven is the ending TPTB wanted to give Dean, at least he should say something more empowering. Sam tells him that both of them are going to take the kids somewhere safe. Dean answers and the scene follows like this: “No. Sammy, we made our choice, didn’t we?”, he smiles with difficulty. “We were free to write our own story and we did. We decided to keep saving people, hunting things. Because it’s what we love despite the risks.” (Reasoning: If Dean’s going to die it doesn’t have to feel like it was always meant to be that way. He should die knowing that he exerted his free will until his last breath).

The rest of the dialogue between Sam and Dean happens almost the same. Except that instead of Dean saying “‘cause when it all came down to it, it was always you and me. It’s always been you and me”, he says “’cause when it all came down to it, we’ve always had each other’s backs. Always.” And instead of Sam saying “Don’t leave me”, he says “I still can try to save you.” (Reasoning: It sounds way less codependent without diminishing the importance of their love and support for each other).

Besides, let’s change Dean’s “I’m not leaving you” for “You don’t have to be alone. You’ve still got family.” The rest stays the same word by word. (Reasoning: Dean reminds Sam that “family don’t end in blood” and there are still lots of people out there who love Sam and will be with him).

“I love you so much, my baby brother” stays exactly the same. (Reasoning: Dean always had trouble to express the big L word. I always believed and said many times that before Dean could say “I love you” to Cas or any other character, he had to say it to Sam. So, this is important as part of Dean speaking his truth).

The last part when Dean insists Sam tell him that it’s okay stays the same. (Reasoning: It’s the final moment when the codependency cycle breaks. No more running in circles).

The forehead touch between them stays the same. (Reasoning: I think I would do something similar if my sister were dying. I know there are w*ncest shippers out there, but it shouldn’t matter because the moment feels appropriate for that kind of goodbye). 

See? There are changes but not too many. That’s why I’ve been saying that it was easier to get it right, yet they still managed to screw it up.

The second montage stays the same. (Reasoning: Life goes on, but of course Sam has to mourn).

The call about a case in Austin remains the same. (Reasoning: It’s the only part of the episode where someone from the found family is mentioned, so I think that Donna’s name is perfect in that moment. However, without the other additions I’ve made in this re-write, that off-hand mention feels too little. Its purpose was to tell the viewers that if Donna was alive, so were the others, but the way the episode was executed gave us an isolated Sam, incapable of having friends and a family without Dean).  

After 30 minutes of Sam’s POV, let’s finally see the last bit of Dean’s POV that we’ll ever get.

Dean arrives in Heaven and Bobby receives him. All their conversation stays almost the same, except that after mentioning Rufus and before saying “and your mom and dad…”, Bobby adds an “Ellen and Jo let me borrow their place”. (Reasoning: If you’re gonna put the man outside the Harvelle’s place, at least mention them for Jack’s sake!).

Besides, after Bobby tells Dean that Sam will be along and that time in heaven is different, Dean gives a small smile and says, “Well, there’s no rush. I want him to have a long, happy life.” Bobby answers with: “I would expect nothing less from you, boy” and tells him he got everything he could ever want, etc., just like it happened in the episode, and finishes by asking “What are you gonna do now, Dean?” (Reasoning: It’s important we know for sure that Dean is NOT codependent anymore and that he doesn’t expect to have a miserable afterlife just because his brother is not there yet).

Instead of saying “I think I’ll go for a drive” Dean says, “I think I know what I want” and walks towards baby. Bobby still tells him to have fun. (Reasoning: “Know what I want” is ambiguous enough to help us introduce the last piece of the puzzle, the one thing Dean’s wanted for many seasons and has never been able to express).

 The biggest change is coming:

Dean gets on the Impala and has a moment of silence while he contemplates the wheel. He begins to pray: “Hey, Cas, you got your ears on? I hear you’ve been busy working on this updated Heaven with Jack. You were right about him, Cas. You had faith in him and he saved us all. You could always see the best in everyone, even when they couldn’t see it themselves. Even when I couldn’t see it myself. There’s so much I want to tell you. Maybe you can visit sometime. I hope prayer’s still a thing up here.” (Reasoning: Dean’s side of the confession was unaddressed and that was terrible writing. If there was no way to get him to speak his truth textually, at least take him as close to it as possible).

We listen to a flutter of wings and a “Hello, Dean” from the back seat. We don’t see Cas, but the camera shows us Dean’s cocky smile and he says “Took you long enough.” He turns around slowly. End of scene. (Reasoning: The flutter of wings confirms that angels have their wings back and ties that loose end. The final “hello, Dean” was highly anticipated and it made sense. If Misha couldn’t be there to film, for whatever reason, or if the problem was the kind of conversation Dean and Cas would have, then don’t show it, but leave the door open. Let us know that the two characters were reunited and will talk, but whatever Dean has to say is so private that it’s not for us to hear, only for Cas.  

We finally hear “Carry on my wayward son” and get a montage that begins with Sam playing with his kid. Then we see Dean driving, super happy, and Sam living his life to the fullest. We still get Sam’s Blurry Wife, BUT… we see pictures of Eileen in the living room (not just of John, Mary, Sam, and Dean). We also see photos of Jody, Donna, Charlie, and AU!Bobby. (Reasoning: FAMILY DON’T END IN BLOOD).

The scene where Sam is wearing the party wig and looks miserable inside the Impala is cut and nobody talks about it ever again because it never existed. We get a scene of Sam teaching his son how to fix the car instead. (Reasoning: First of all, don’t give Sam a life where years later he’s still in pain. Second of all, the fucking wig was a crime).

Sam’s dying scene stays the same. The only thing is that his son signs a couple of phrases to him before actually speaking. (Reasoning: More confirmation that Dean Jr. is Eileen’s son).

We hear the final “Evanescence-like Carry on my wayward son”. Again we see the photos and there’s family other than the Winchesters there. (Reasoning: Obvious at this point).

The rest is exactly the same. The show began with two brothers and it’s okay if the last scene is with the two brothers reunited in Heaven. At this point, the other parts of the story are acceptable enough for us to feel happy that they get to see each other again after years of a happy (after)life.

Now look me in the eye and tell me this was too hard to execute. I still think that bad writing is a thing we can’t deny here, adding to the possible meddling of the Network. Maybe Dabb wanted us to hate the finale because he couldn’t get away with what he truly wanted. If that was his intention, then kudos to him. He and The CW really gave us a finale that only 30% of the fandom liked.

I hope you guys have enjoyed this and it helps to give you some peace of mind. In my heart, this was the finale we got. It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t drop the ball either.

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

the Original Vampire | Elijah Mikaelson x Winchester!reader

Requested by @nalledimessi​ / Summary: You finally tell the truth to your supernatural killing brothers; you’re dating the Original vampire Elijah Mikaelson. 

A/N: I’m so sorry for the wait, had some things come up at home. I hope you enjoy!! xx 

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

** Rules for Requesting **

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

*oh my this gif; he’s a freaking hottie UGH

“What is your story?” Elijah asked as his fingers ran up and down your arm. You were laying on his chest between the sheets of his bed. 

You hummed as you stared up to him with a soft smile, your index finger caressing his cheek, “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” You whispered against his lips. 

He chuckles, pulling you closer against his chest, “That’s such a cliche.” 

You sat up next him, holding the sheet against your chest, “If I did tell you, you’d never forgive me.. You wouldn’t look at me the same.” 

He furrows his eyebrows as he stares at you, “It can’t be that bad.” He sits up and leans back against the headboard and reaches for your hand, but you pull away, tears already forming. 

“I should go.” 

Elijah is confused with the change of emotion in you. The two of you had been dating for close to three months now. He’d met you in a bar located in the French Quarter and the two of you had been inseparable since. 

You hated lying to him like this. You knew his secret; He was a vampire, an original vampire. The same one you and your brothers were hunting at the moment. You, Dean and Sam had drove down to New Orleans after hearing word vampires were taking over the French Quarter. So far during the two months, you’d killed 2 vampires and were no closer to killing the original vampires. Thanks to you. You’d kept your brothers away this long, sending them in the opposite direction. 

You were really going to kill Elijah that night you met him. That was your plan but he’d shown you a side of him, the good side that you couldn’t believe he was this evil vampire everyone spoke about. 

“You don’t have to go so soon.” He reaches for your arm, stopping you, “What is bothering you?” 

You shook your head, slipping your arm from his grasp, “It’d be better to be kept a secret.” You gave him a begging look, “Please just let this go.” 

He gives you a nod and waves his hand toward the door, “Then go.” 

You silently thanked him and hurried to get dressed.

“Will you still come to the party this evening? You are my date.” He asks, getting dressed himself. 

Shit. You’d completely forgot about the party tonight. You wondered if you could get passed your brothers tonight to attend. “Yes, I’ll be there.” 

Elijah came to your side after you’d completely dressed and put his hand on your cheek, “You can tell me anything.” 

“Not this.” 

~ 

“Where the hell have you been?” Dean stood from his seat at the table, anger written all over his face. 

You shrugged him off, tossing your jacket on the bed, “I was following a lead.” 

“We were worried sick.” Sam closes his laptop in front of him, “We tried calling and you didn’t answer.” 

“Sorry.” You mumble, sitting on the bed to slip your shoes off, “Phone died.” 

“Well, we got a good lead.” Dean tosses the paper next to you, “Hope you brought a fancy dress with you.” 

You picked up the piece of paper and read it over. 

“Cause we’re going to a party tonight.” Dean smirks. 

It was a poster for the same party you’d be attending tonight with Elijah. The same party that the Mikaelson’s were throwing at their home. Oh this wasn’t good at all. 

“Go get ready. We leave in an hour.” Sam orders. 

“We can’t go to this party.” You stand and look between the both of them, “We’d be walking straight to our death.” There would be multiple vampires there, you just knew it. 

Dean waves you off, “I think we’ll be fine.” 

“No, I don’t think you guys understand.” 

They have a look of confusion on their face, “Please. Elaborate.” 

“Yes please, elaborate, little sister.” Dean huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Never mind.” You shook your head, “forget I said anything.” You head for the bathroom but Sam stops you, “Is there something you know that we dont?”

You shook your head, “No.” 

“You wouldn’t lie to us, would you?” Dean asks, skeptical. 

“Fuck you, Dean.” Looking between the two, “I’m going to get ready.” 

~ 

Sam and Dean made sure you were packing heat underneath your dress. Mostly wooden bullet filled guns and a couple wooden stakes in case you were to run into a vampire. How were you supposed to walk in there and not be spotted by Elijah? it was his family’s party and he’d be expecting you, looking for you in the crowd. 

You knew as soon as Sam and Dean laid eyes on one of the Mikaelson’s, they’d be dead. Oh god, what did you get yourself into? 

You followed behind the two brothers, sick to your stomach. You just had a feeling this night wouldn’t end well. “Should we get a drink first?” You suggested. 

Dean nods, “I could use a drink.” He lead the two of you toward the bar and was preoccupied by ordering, giving you time to look over the place. You spotted him instantly at the balcony above the courtyard. He hadn’t noticed you just yet. 

“Going to find a bathroom.” you said to Sam, who gave a nod, “Be careful.” His attention was then back toward the bar.

You quickly slipped through the crowd, looking back up where you’d spotted Elijah. He was already looking down at you with a smile. You returned the smile and headed up the stairs toward him. 

“You look stunning.” He compliments, leaning in for a kiss, but you’ve grabbed his arm and lead him toward his bedroom, “This morning wasn’t enough for you?” 

“We need to talk.” You quickly turned around to shut the french doors behind you. “I don’t have time but you and your family are in trouble.” 

“In trouble? What the hell is going on?” 

You glanced back at the door, Sam and Dean would be looking for you soon, “Elijah..” 

“Tell me why my family is in trouble.” He growled, becoming protective of his family and taking a step toward you. 

“I’m not who you think I am.” 

“Then tell me who you are.” He didn���t know if he could harm you if it came down to it. His heart was yours and the thought of harming you in anyway, made him sick. “I told you earlier, you can tell me anything, my love.” He gently caresses your cheek with his knuckles, “Who are you?” 

Your eyes became glossy as you stared up at him, “We.. me and my brothers are hunters. We hunt the supernatural and we got word of vampires taking over the French Quarter. The night we met, I was going to kill you but you showed such.. such a different side of what I thought vampires were. You showed me compassion and kindness.” You let out a soft sob, “I fell for you, Elijah and I couldn’t do it. I’ve tried to push them in the opposite direction from you and your family, but they saw the poster and they’re here.” 

He couldn’t help but grow angry at what you’d just told him. You lied to him, betrayed him. “you lied to me.” He took a step away from you. 

“Elijah please.. I wanted to tell you.” You begged, “I wanted to tell you so many times but I just didn’t know how.” 

“You betrayed me. Me and my family. We opened our home to you! We trusted you.” 

“Elijah, please. You have to know keeping you and your family safe was my main priority. I’ve kept them in the opposite direction so they wouldn’t find you. I’ve been feeding them the wrong information for weeks.” 

“Why not tell me the truth? Why lie to me?” 

“Because if you knew the truth you would have killed them.. or killed me. I couldn’t risk my family getting hurt either. But I wanted to protect both your family and mine.”

“So they are here now to kill my family? You brought them here?” 

You shook your head, “I would never. They saw the posters Rebekah put up this morning about the party.” 

“I wish you would have told me the truth sooner.” Pulling out the phone he starts to dial Klaus’ number to warn him. 

“Elijah I’m so sorry.” You let out a soft sob and hung your head. 

“Shh shh..” He gathers you in his free arm. He could see the hurt on your face and deep down he knew if you’d wanted to kill him, you’d done it already. “It’s alright.” He kisses the top of your head. 

“Niklaus-” He started but was interrupted as Sam and Dean bursted into the room, guns drawn, “get away from her!” 

Elijah went into protective mode, pushing your body behind is. 

“No-” You tried to interject, but it was too late. Sam pulled the trigger and the wooden bullet went straight through Elijah’s heart. You watched as he landed on his back with a thump, his body going grey with death.  

“No!” You cried out, “No! What did you do?!” You dropped to your knees next to Elijah, “No No no..” You gripped his hand in yours, laying your head on his chest and sobbed. This is what you’d tried to protect him from but you’d failed. You failed him. 

“Get away from him, y/n!” Dean ordered. 

“What the hell are you doing!” Sam went to grab you by the arms but you shook him off, falling back at Elijah’s side, “You killed him!” 

“Yeah I did!” Sam yells back, “That was the damn plan!” 

“What the hell is your problem?” Dean asks, reaching for you. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Your hands gripped Elijah’s shirt, your head going to his chest, “I’m so sorry.. I’m so sorry Elijah.” 

Dean and Sam had no idea what was going on and were confused with your outburst. Why were you crying over this mans, not man but vampire’s body? You’d think they’d killed the love of your life. 

“Oh my god.” Sam is the first to realize it, but Dean lags behind, “What?” 

Elijah gasps as he comes back to life, your name the first thing on his lips, “y/n” 

Your hands went to his face as the grey disappeared, “oh Elijah.. what is.. you’re alive?” Your hand went to his heart. The wound was still opened. 

He growls in pain as he pulls the bullet from his chest, examining it, “It’s not white oak.” Tossing it away from him, the wound healing, “You can’t kill an original vampire without white oak.” 

Sam and Dean are flabbergasted, that was not in any of their books. “You’re alive.” You sobbed, wrapping your arms around him, “I thought I lost you.” 

“Shh.. it’s alright my love.” He wipes a tear from your cheek, “I’m alright.” 

“What in the hell is going on?” Dean is still not caught up. 

“You’ve been screwing with our investigation this whole time, haven’t you?” Sam asked as he put the gun back in his holster, “Leading us in the wrong direction?” 

Elijah slowly pulled himself off the ground and helped you to your feet, “I love him, Sam.” 

“you gotta be fucking kidding me.” Dean growls, “you in love with a vampire?!” 

You flinched at his outburst. Elijah’s arm protectively wraps around you, “He’s been nothing but compassionate and kind.. He’s not like the stories dad would tell you. He’s a good man and yeah I love him.” 

Dean starts toward you but Sam grabs him by the shoulder, “Don’t Dean.” 

“You’re not on her side.” Dean looks at Sam in disbelief, “You can’t be okay with our little sister being in love with a vampire!” 

“She loves him, Dean, what the hell are we supposed to do?! We kill him, she’d never forgive us.” Sam looks at Elijah, “You love her?” 

Elijah looks down at you with such admiration and wipes a stray tear from your cheek, “With everything I have.” 

Sam takes a step toward Elijah, giving him a warning point of his finger, “If.. If one hair on her head is ever injured because of you, mark my words, the next bullet that goes through you will not be wood. It will be white oak.” 

Dean can’t believe his eyes. His little sister in love with an original vampire and his brother just going along with it. Saying it’s okay. Deep down he knew Sam was right; if they were to kill him, you’d never forgive them and they would lose another family member. You and Sam were all Dean had left and he couldn’t lose either of you. He steps up beside Sam, “That warning comes from me too.” That was his way of giving you his approval. 

Stepping away you gather Dean in a hug. His body stiffens at the affection but he returns the hug, “Thank you.” 

“I’ll kill him y/n. I’ll kill him if he hurts you.” He whispers to you. 

You nodded, “I know.” You give him a soft smile and then turn to Sam, giving him a hug. 

“We’re going to head back to Kansas. I assume you’re staying here?” Sam asks. 

You nod and return to Elijah’s side, “I’m staying here.” 

Elijah holds his hand out toward Sam, “If you two ever need help on a hunt, I’m willing to lend a hand.” 

“We won’t need it.” Dean grumbles as Sam shakes his hand and thanks him for the offer. 

Dean doesn’t shake his hand right away and Sam nudges him, “Fine, whatever.” He huffs with a shake of Elijah’s hand. 

Sam and Dean returned to Kansas to find another case while you stayed with Elijah in New Orleans. It felt like a cloud had been lifted from your shoulders. No more lying to Elijah or your brothers; Everything was out in the open and you’d had their approval which made it even better. 

Supernatural tag list: @fanficscuziranout​ , @taylordrunkonwhiskey , @hollymac79​ , @akshi8278​ , @thedarkqueenofavalon​ , @idkhaylijah​ , @dpaccione​ , @corishirogane3​

All my works tag list:  @blossomreed​ , @mggstyles  , @simonsbluee​ , @thewolf-and-thesheep​ , @obxrafejjwhore​ , @abbiesthings​ , @itstaskeen​ , @reniescarlett​

The Vampire Diaries / The Originals tag list: @thefandomplace​ , @taylordrunkonwhiskey , @somewhatasoftbaddie , @toomuchtv95​ , @losers-club6​ , @daddydobrockk ,  @idkhaylijah​ , @harpersmariano​ , @dpaccione​ , @hellotvshowtrash​ , @akshi8278​

[beauvibaby]

emergency contact — m.tkachuk

a/n: a random fic that I finally finished!!

word count: 2.4K

You groaned, the buzzing from your phone was stirring you from your sleep, it was nearly three am. No one would call you this early for no reason, so you suddenly came to your senses, scrambling to answer it. “Hello, hello.” You rushed, hardly getting to it in time. “Is this Y/F/N?” The lady’s voice came across delicately which only caused your heart rate to pick up. “Yes.” You sat up in the bed, flipping your lamp on as she began speaking across the line. “My name is Diane, I’m calling from St. Alexius Hospital, your brother, Matthew has been brought in from a car accident, you were listed as his emergency contact.” She explained, you flew out of the bed, “is he ok?” You were rushing around, pulling on whatever clean clothes you could find first. “He’ll be fine, I’m not at liberty to discuss the details over the phone.” She spoke calmly, you nodded, before realizing she couldn’t see you. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You quickly hung up, yanking your jeans on in a rush, you forced any nervous thoughts to the back of your mind. He would be fine, that’s what you kept repeating to yourself, he was the only family you had left, he had to be fine.

Your feet carried you into the hospital emergency room before your mind could catch up, you reached the counter and blankly stared for a moment, you read her name tag, Diane. “I’m Y/F/N, I’m here to see-” “Ah, yes, for Matthew?” She cut you off, flipping through the papers on her desk. “Room 113.” She pointed you down the hall, and you were off, speed walking down the hall, your shoes sounding loud against the linoleum floor in the early morning. 109, 110, 111, 112, you froze outside of his room, clearly it couldn’t have been that bad if he was alone. You heard a groan from inside the room and you came to your senses, you pushed the curtain aside, “Matthew.” You whispered, and then looked up, the stranger in the bed looking at you with raised eyebrows. “You’re not my brother.” You gasped, and then realized you were standing in his room still, “I’m so sorry, uh, feel better.” You saw the cast on his arm and a bruise forming just under his eyes. “I’m not complaining.” He mumbled with a lazy smile, it captivated you, the way his blue eyes lit up as you smiled back at him. “But no I’m not, my name is Matthew though.” He muttered, coughing lightly, reaching for the water, it was just out of his reach so you walked over and handed it to him. “Here you go.” You whispered, his fingers brushing against yours as he took the cup, “I have to go, I-I’m here to see my brother.” You gave him a smile, going to rush out of the room but as you turned, Diane came running in, out of breath.

“There was a mix up, I’m so sorry.” She rushed, Matthew looking between you and her, eyebrows raised in amusement. “Is my brother even here?!” You snapped, relieved but angry at the same time. She shook her head and you scrambled to pull your phone out of your pocket, dialing your brother’s number. You bounced on your feet as it rang and rang, “Y/N? Why are you calling so late?” He grumbled into the phone, “Matthew!” You cried in relief, “you’re ok?” You asked, “of course I’m ok, why wouldn’t I be?” He sounded confused, “nothing, uh, it’s a long story, I’ll call you later.” You hung up, arms crossed as you glared at Diane. “Miss Y/L/N, I am so sorry.” She apologized again, you could only nod weakly. “I’m so sorry, uh, Matthew.” You turned to the guy in the bed, he had to be right around your age. “I really hope you feel better.” And with that, you rushed out the door, over run by the emotions you just went through.

That was almost a week ago.

Five days if we’re being specific.

“Mom is going to kill me if she finds out I let you drive.” You tuned into the conversation a girl was having with what you could only assume is her brother from the way she spoke to him. You kept your eyes focused down on the cup of coffee and laptop before you, but your ears perked up. “That’s why she isn’t going to find out, right Taryn?” He quipped back at her, you couldn’t fully place it but his voice had an oddly familiar tone. Not one that you knew well, but as if you had heard it before. You continued typing away on your laptop, forcing yourself to stop eavesdropping on their conversation, a message came up on your screen and you became so engrossed in it that you didn’t even notice as Matthew walked past your table with a small gasp, dragging his sister along.

“That’s her!” He whispered to his sister, who only looked at him confused, “that’s the girl from the hospital.” He groaned, running a hand through his curly hair. Only making it look messier. Taryn glanced at you, and at him, then back and forth once more. “You couldn’t pull her.” She teased him, earning a light flick to the arm from him. “I totally could!” He defended, panicking when your head popped up, you glanced around but didn’t notice him. “Well aren’t you going to go say something?” Taryn nudged him, taking his coffee from his not broken arm, and setting it down beside hers on the table. “What am I going to say? ‘Oh hey, not sure if you remember me but you barged into my hospital room last week because you thought I was your brother’? That’s not going to work.” He rambled, too caught up in his own words to notice his sister walking towards you until it was too late. She simply sat across from you, making your body jump back.

“Uh, hello?” You spoke hesitantly, sliding your laptop closer to you, eyeing the random girl skeptically. “Hi, my name is Taryn, I think you met my brother, Matthew over there, in the hospital last week?” She smiled politely at you, pointing to the corner of the cafe were you turned and saw Matthew looking over with wide eyes and pink cheeks, he offered a small wave, wincing when he used the arm in a cast. You giggled under your breath, waving back, “I did.” You confirmed, “I’m Y/N.” You added, turning back to Taryn, “well you see, he hasn’t really shut up about you since then, he thinks you’re really pretty, so I figured I’d come try and help him have a chance to talk to you.” She explained with a grin, occasionally glancing at her brother, who you could only assume had turned more red. “I’d love to talk to him.” You assured her, slowly closing your laptop, holding back a large smile when she grinned, rushing off, you heard them bickering before Matthew approached, awkwardly sitting where his sister just was. “Hi.” He hadn’t struck you as one to be shy when you first met him, “hi.” You repeated, leaning back in your seat. “How’s the arm?” You teased, glancing down to his cast. “It’s getting there.” He shrugged, looking up and meeting your eyes. “I’m really glad they called you.” He added, ah, there’s the confidence you were looking for. You rested your elbows on the table, holding your chin lightly in your hand, “are you?” You cocked your head to the side, smiling as he blushed.

“I am.” He confirmed, placing his phone up on the table, “so why don’t you give me your number, and I’ll take you out to dinner.” He spoke softly, a small hint of nervousness to his voice. “You know, as payment for emotional trauma at the very least.” He joked, earning a genuine laugh from you. “I think that sounds fair.” You picked up his phone, adding yourself to his contacts. “Good thing I’m the only Y/N you know.” You handed him his phone, smiling as his fingers brushed yours, it sounded cliche, and you hated to even think it, but even the simple touch sent your heart into a frenzy. “Mhm, good thing.” He agreed, staying seated, “you know, if we kept talking this could almost be like a first date.” He raised an eyebrow, you noticed the small smirk on his lips. “I think I can spare some time.” You smiled sweetly at him, diving into conversation. You both covered a lot of things, from work, which caught you off guard for sure when you heard what he does, to family, all the way down to embarrassing childhood stories.

“Alright, I’ve waited as long as I can wait, Matty, we need to go.” Taryn interrupted, looking down at her brother from where he was still sitting, you checked the time on your phone and you were embarrassed to see it had been nearly two hours. “Oh my god, Taryn, I’m so sorry.” You apologized, Matthew smiling at the interaction as his sister brushed it off. “It’s fine.” She turned back to him, who was lost in his happiness, “so, Matty.” You teased, gathering your things, “I’ll be waiting to hear from you.” You stood up, pushing your purse onto your shoulder, he followed, standing in front of you, he ducked down to press a kiss to your cheek. “You’ll definitely be hearing from me.” He smirked, walking off with his sister while you blushed furiously, he glanced back and you shot him a wink, you two were made for each other.

“So, tomorrow?”

You giggled at your phone as you walked to your car, already getting a message from him. You bit your lip as you smiled, typing a quick response to leave him on his toes while you drive home.

“I’m sorry, who is this?”

You put your phone on silent to avoid getting distracted while you drove, but you could tell it vibrated a couple of times on the seat. It felt like forever until you got home, but once you did, you and Matthew texted the rest of the day, setting up plans for you both to meet at a restaurant not too far from your house the next day.

You were a little nervous, just because first dates were always nerve wracking, but otherwise you were calm, you knew you’d have a good time. You smoothed out your pants, looking down at the printed material, you adjusted your tucked in lace camisole, tugging your cardigan on over top, a chic yet comfortable outfit, paired with some heeled boots. Your hair falling down your back in loose curls, you gave yourself one last adjustment before you made your way out the door, hoping you wouldn’t be too early, you wouldn’t want to ruin his manly pride.

You were excitedly surprised when you arrived and Matthew was already standing outside the restaurant waiting for you. “Hi, Matthew.” You called as you climbed out of your car, his head snapped up, a grin covering his face as a couple of his curls bouncing in front of his eyes. “Hey. You look great.” He met you in front of your car, his jacket hanging off on one side because of his cast. “Clean up nice yourself.” You replied with ease, “how’s your arm?” You added, lightly touching it where he had scribbled on it. A chuckle falling from your lips at the stick figure he’d left on it. “Better now.” He smirked, earning a snort in return, your hand shooting to your mouth. “Oh my god.” He broke into laughter, using his good arm to move your hand from your face, “that was equally cute and funny.”

“I’m glad you thought so.” You breathed out, giggling as he led you inside.

***

“Oh, Matty. She’s lovely, I’m so happy for you.” Chantal grinned, looking at the ring he had picked out for you. You’d been together for just over a year, you both fell quick and hard, you moving to Calgary with him halfway through the season. “Thanks mom.” He sighed in relief, it was the last few weeks of the off season, and it was a no brainer for you both to come back to St. Louis for the summer to see your families.

What you didn’t know, is that he ended up holding onto that ring for almost a year before asking you to marry him, two years to the day when you ran into his hospital room.

***

“Matty, what are you doing?” You asked breathlessly as you walked into the living room after your shower, in frumpy pajamas and a wet messy bun. You looked at the candles that were scattered around, and him in a pregame suit, despite there being no game tonight. “You can’t cry when I haven’t even said anything yet.” He whispered as you approached him in shock, he pulled the velvet box from his jacket pocket. “Matthew.” You gasped, cupping his bearded jaw, he wiped under your eyes lightly, “Y/N.” He murmured, lightly kissing your forehead before getting down on one knee.

“As much as I hate how that mix up in the hospital scared you that night, I’m so grateful for it, you were right in front of me that whole time in St. Louis, but I wouldn’t have met you if it wasn’t for that.” He explained, popping the box open, you started nodding instantly, “ask me.” You begged. “Will you marry me?” He cut straight to it, grinning when you dropped down on your knees in front of him. You nodded furiously, holding his face in your hands, “yes. Oh my god, yes.” You pulled him in for a kiss, squealing in delight when he yanked you closer, “Mrs. Tkachuk sounds nice, doesn't it?”

***

You leaned in the doorway to your son's room, smiling as Matthew theatrically recalled your meeting story, your son, who was only four, looking up at his dad like he just told him how the earth spins. You giggled, making your presence known, you joined them on the floor, draping your legs over your husband’s lap, your son climbing onto yours, hugging you tightly as you played with his curly hair. “Is daddy telling your favorite story again?” You asked him, smiling when he nodded enthusiastically, “I really like that story too.” You told him, feeling Matthew squeeze your hip as your son giggled.

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