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five-rivers · 3 years

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Cold Case 4

It would have been bad enough if that ‘ghost’ (was it a ghost, or did they just call it that as part of their cover story?) had been the only thing to come out of the… Whatever it was. It wasn’t.

More things emerged. These were more recognizable. Animals, mostly. Haglike creatures with long fingers and crooked teeth. Floating balls of light. Everything bright and glowing.

“Oh, my god,” moaned McGee. How in the world was he supposed to explain this to his superiors?

“Yeah,” said Patterson. “That’s… more than usual.”

“I’m making the call.”

“Who could you possibly call for this?” asked McGee. “The Men in Black?”

“We’re not calling the government for this,” said Patterson. “You saw how incompetent the Guys in White are.”

“Besides, these are ghosts,” said Collins, phone pressed to the side of his face. “What do you think the Men in Black could possibly do?”

“Who then? Who are you calling?”

“Haha, this sounds like a Ghostbusters commercial,” said Patterson. “He’s calling the Fentons.”

“The chintzy mad science tourist trap people who are connected to the mob.” Wow, McGee was just spewing all his theories right now, wasn’t he? “The ones weirdly connected to the unidentified teenage body you found last summer?”

“They’re perfectly respectable ghost scientists,” said Collins, “and – Hi, Maddie. Patterson and I are here in the Neon District. We’ve got… How many would you say, Pat?”

“Bout a dozen,” said Patterson.

“A dozen or so low-level ghosts. Night hags and small animals, mostly. Yes, I know it’s a school night. Maybe you and Jack – Really, it’s fine. This is the Neon District, after all. Not much unbroken. Hm, yeah, okay, but we do have the new guy. McGee. Yeah. Might do him some good to see? Alright. See you soon.” There was an audible beep on the other side of the line, and Collins closed his phone with a snap.

“Now what?” asked McGee.

“Now,” said Collins, “we wait.”

“With all of those… things?” He waved a hand towards the windshield.

“Yeah. The car has a coating.”

“All the police units do. Most ghosts can’t phase through it,” said Collins.

“Most?”

“Most,” confirmed Collins.

“There are always a few outliers. Besides, we’re nice and hidden here in this alley. No reason for them to come after us.”

“Unless they’re fear eaters,” said Patterson.

“They’re all fear eaters.”

“You know what I mean. The ones who want to eat fear.”

“Well, considering what some of these guys look like…”

“They’d be on us already with McGee, here. I mean, I can smell his fear.”

“Give the guy a break. It’s not every day you find out that the undead exist.”

“You can’t be serious,” said McGee. “This can’t be happening.”

“It is, though,” said Patterson.

McGee slumped down in the back seat, hopefully low enough not to be seen by the ghosts outside. Ghosts. Ghosts.

How was he supposed to explain ghosts? How was he supposed to tell his superiors that the people in Amity Park were being completely honest when they said that the town was under attack from ghosts?

He was never getting out of here unless he quit.

He did not want to lose his life to something that shouldn’t even exist. He didn’t want to lose his job to things that shouldn’t exist.

A halogen glow grew at the end of the street and a loud rumbling distracted McGee from his thoughts.

“Oh, that’s fast,” said Patterson.

A giant military monstrosity affixed with enough lights to illuminate a football field barreled down the street, bright laser-lines of green shooting out of it. And – What kind of messed up sci-fi film was this? Ray guns? Energy weapons?

Had he been drugged?

At least now he knew where the glowing paint came from. He saw new, bright splashes form where the- the ghosts were knocked into walls. The lasers traced bright lines on the brick.

Mr. Fenton, in full orange glory leaned out one of the car doors, a massive bazooka in his hand and an even bigger smile on his face, firing away.

Everything. All of this. It was too much.

“Where does Danny Fenton fit into this?” asked McGee.

“Huh?”

“Danny Fenton. And the body you found.”

“Well,” said Collins. “The Fentons are training Danny to deal with ghosts – And the ghosts like him quite a bit. He’s one of those… What did you call it?”

“A medium,” said Patterson.

“A medium.” Collins turned sharply, onto a side road. “This is faster,” he said.

“And the dead teenager?”

“Belongs to a ghost.”

“Belongs to a—What does that even mean?”

“Like, it was their body,” said Patterson, “and then they died. Pretty straightforward.”

“So, you just… don’t investigate it when that happens?” They couldn’t be serious.

“I mean, we did at first,” said Patterson. “But he didn’t want us to, and it was pretty clear there was no foul play after a while.”

“The body was buried in the woods.”

“Yeah, but he was the one who did it. Kid panicked. It happens. Not like we’re going to charge a ghost for improper disposal of human remains.”

“This is insane.”

“You get used to it,” said Collins as he pulled into the station lot.

“Please tell me this is it. That this is the explanation for everything.”

“Hah. Hardly,” said Patterson. She popped the door open. “There’s so much weird ghost stuff going on it’d take days to explain it all.”

“Like the Truce,” said Collins, shutting off the car.

McGee scrambled to follow them out. The cold night air hit him like a sledgehammer, and he shivered. “What about the truce?”

“Winter Truce,” said Patterson. “Most ghosts respect the winter solstice as a time of peace and leave off attacking for a few months around it.”

“Attacking?”

“Yeah, do you think all the damage is just from them coming through peacefully? If it was just tourists from the other side, we could handle it. We do handle it.”

“Patterson?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re overwhelming the guy. Give him a break. McGee?”

“Yeah?”

“Go home. Take tomorrow off. Take some time to… process, okay? This is a big thing. We know you’re a spy who’ll betray us as soon as you get what you came for, but you’re not a bad guy.”

“Plus, we run most people off by this point, so.”

“Unfortunately, that is true.”

“Ha! Wait until you hear about the ghost cops.”

“Not now, Patterson.”

“Yeah, um,” said McGee, raising a hand to rub at the lower half of his face. “I’m just going to go home now.”

“Drive safe!”

What would happen if he didn’t? What would happen if he died here? Would he turn into a ghost?

McGee forced a smile he didn’t feel because social pressures were still a thing, evidently. “Sure,” he said.

He parked by the graveyard. It was quiet there, this long after sunset.

He knew he shouldn’t be there. Not if ghosts were real. But he had to see it.

The grave.

It glowed faintly in the moonlight.

“I’m going to solve it,” he said. “I’m going to find out who you are and why you died.”

Because, frankly, he didn’t trust Collins or Patterson. Who knew why they’d said what they’d said? Who knew what they were getting from all these stories?

“You already know why I died. Don’t you?”

McGee yelped and twisted. There was a ghost floating there. McGee knew this ghost. Well, recognized him, anyway. Phantom, the ghost at the center of the whole tourist trap business.

“Come on,” said the ghost, “don’t tell me you’re surprised to meet a ghost in a graveyard.”

#danny phantom #dannymay #dannymay 2021 #dannymay 2021 day 16: glow #exhumed

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oliviayamaoka · 3 years

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The Roseville Murders

Danny “Jed Olsen” Johnson x Female Reader

After getting yourself into a rather tragic incident, you are reassigned to work elsewhere to protect your young career as a detective.

Your life would sure but slowly change when you meet a bright journalist named Jed Olsen, always looking to get inside information from you regarding the murders in Roseville. Seeking Jed Olsen’s help in finding the Ghostface, a spark ignited between the two of you.

Chapter One: Roseville

Y/N rubbed her eyes, tired from the long car ride you just endured. It was a long car ride from your old home but at least the day was nice. It wouldn’t be long until dusk came. In a way, you were glad. You often thrived in the nighttime and took it as an opportunity to wind down and finally rest. It was a large rental truck that you had taken on your journey to your new home, Roseville. You didn’t necessarily choose the location; you were assigned to go there. After the incident, you were assigned to help in the investigation regarding some gnarly murders. This piqued your interest since you had an interest in crime and journalism, more so crime.

It was quite the strange time, being a junior detective, or that’s what they called you anyways. Your time in the police academy was short-lived, it didn’t take long to become a detective in the nineties. Even so, you managed to impress some detectives and officers. You also had an eye for stuff that would normally slip other people’s mind, the small details were more or less important to you. Admittedly, your interest in detective work stemmed from the fact you loved horror movies and shows. Even books. It would be a silly idea in the eyes of others but you figured you could do some good. You were also extremely annoyed at how incompetent other officers could be, not writing reports in detail or straight up refusing to do a full investigation. It was ridiculous and you figured you’d try and change this.

Johnathan Stevens was the name of your supervisor, an older gentleman. He formerly investigated murders and unsolved crimes in the fifties and sixties, his prime. Some would even consider his work to dabble in the supernatural. You weren’t sure if you believed such things, not that you were a skeptic since there were small things you couldn’t explain growing up. His work was great nonetheless and he saw the potential in you. You admired him and he gave a good word to others on your behalf. He was the reason you got a job in helping the investigation in Roseville. Ah yes, Roseville.

You were excited in a way. Johnathan was able to get you a role in the investigation of the Roseville Murders. The prime suspect was a man in a costume who went by the name Ghost Face. They ultimately branded the series of murders as the Ghost Face Murders. Y/N read the files and you began to think of your own theories on who this mysterious murderer could be. The murders were premeditated and were always executed in a similar fashion. Y/N saw some photos left behind by the Ghost Face, he enjoyed posing and took pride in his work. Your train of thought suddenly ended when you saw the town’s sign.

“Welcome to Roseville.” You subconsciously mumbled. There was a slight feeling of regret and worry that itched at you from the inside but you brushed it off. No going back now, you wanted to be a good detective and help those in need.

Your hands brushed towards your turn signals. The apartment you rented wasn’t too far and you didn’t have too many things you brought with you. Roseville seemed like a quiet little city, very peaceful and tidy. A part of you had trouble even imagining that such grizzly murders could take place in what people would consider a perfect town or city. This seemed like a place where somebody would want to raise a family or live a quiet life, it pretty much had everything you needed. You didn’t blame them, the big city life was horrendous, as were the crimes there committed. Y/N sighed deeply as you pulled into the parking lot of the apartment building. It was red and looked somewhat old. Not that it mattered, you were happy with anything at this point. You rubbed your eyes again before resting your forehead on your steering wheel, putting your car into park.

It was about 6:00 PM, you didn’t have to be at the station until 7:30 PM. Much to your dismay, it was enough time to talk to your landlord. You had met prior on a phone call and you got the apartment rather easily. You saw pictures and were instantly keen on getting a lease for it. You checked your mirror to quickly fix your hair up and refresh yourself. After a moment or two, you got out and walked towards the door. Y/N pushed it open and caught a glimpse of the lobby. It was well-furnished and tidy. It was a lot better than your old apartment building in the city. Your mood lightened up, looking forward to a somewhat quieter life. You figured you had your share of the city bars and nightclubs, other shenanigans you encountered when you were slightly younger. You took a few steps in and walked towards the main office. Your shyer tendencies made you hesitate but you knocked lightly on the door, pushing it open.

“Hello?” You called out as you made eye-contact with a blonde woman.

“How can I help you?” The woman asked you, putting away some papers into a filing cabinet.

Her hair was actually kind of long and seemed natural. Her skin was fair and her eyes were a darker shade of blue. The woman’s dark eyebrows helped in bringing out her beautiful features. She was a thin but tall woman. Her attire consisted of a white turtleneck with a cardigan, dress, and black dress shoes with long, white stockings. It was a healthy mix of coziness and business. Y/N smiled kindly and extended her hand out.

“I’m Y/N L/N. I assume that you’re Deborah?” You asked as she quickly returned the smile, a more charming one. She shook your hand, her touch felt welcoming, something that was needed in Roseville.

“Yes, I am. Lovely to finally meet you! How was the trip?” She asked as you shrugged slightly.

“A bit boring but I made it.” You replied as she giggled a bit.

“Take it from me, Roseville is happy you decided to come. The rumors and murders have driven a few people away. We’re happy to have another officer to help.” Deborah said to you.

“Yeah, well, if anybody ever gives you trouble then you’ll know where to find me.” You said as she perked up. Deborah quickly walked towards her desk and grabbed a set of old, somewhat rusty keys. With a sweet smile, the woman planted the metal in your palm.

“Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate you choosing here to live. If you need help unloading your stuff, my brothers are one call away.” She said. With that voice and attitude, the woman would have made an excellent commercial woman.

“I should be fine.” You assured the woman before exiting the office space.

You swiftly walked out towards the parking lot. It was a rather nice evening so far. The sky was a mixture of pink and red with a nice breeze. You held your forehead for a second, having small flashbacks of a man grunting and swearing. You shut your eyes tightly for a moment before sighing stubbornly. Y/N didn’t want to waste anymore time remembering what happened, it was pointless. A part of you felt gross and weird. Your eyes narrowed in an annoyed manner, looking at the stuff you had to bring in.

Maybe you didn’t want to bring in that stuff anymore. You looked around, there was a bakery and a coffee shop nearby on the beautifully constructed sidewalks. Each shop had a small garden or some sort of plant in the front. Roseville was old in an industrial sort of way but the shops, houses, and plant life made it have a rather beautiful aesthetic. Not only that but you enjoyed the weather. You sighed softly, deciding that you should just walk to the police station. Ignoring the lazy and depressing feeling you had, you decided to just walk to clear your head of the memories. And so, you locked the doors to the rental truck and began your little adventure.

“You realize what you’ve done, right?” Jonathan questioned you, his nostrils flaring slightly. In his eyes were a deep stare of concentration. You felt numb but remorseless, you kept your head down.

“He was going to hurt me, Jon.” You mumbled to him, your eyebrows tightly knitted as you looked for any sort of agreement within his eyes. The man sighed deeply, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. Jonathan seemed tired.

“I know he was, kid... but you shot a man. You took a mans life. I understand you did it to defend yourself but the court might not see it that way.” He said.

“Well, I’m glad I did. He would’ve hurt more women. Innocent women.” You replied with bitterness in your voice. He sighed before sitting down, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. His eyes met yours as you looked away.

You thought about the incident a lot. You replayed your own screams in your head before the distinct sound of a gun fired in your ears. Before you even realized it, you were staring dead ahead, reliving it with intense focus. It’s not like you wanted to, it was automatic and you still didn’t process most of it. In fact, it felt like a dream. Y/N shut her eyes, exhaling sharply before looking at the man in front of her. Your eyelids rested, the numbness overcoming the raw feeling of the flashback you had just endured.

“There’s... a case in a city. A smaller city. If I talked to the others and reassigned you somewhere far, would you do it? We’ve known you for years and we care. I know that man could’ve hurt my wife, my daughter, my sister... we understand. Not many people know about this. We could help you.” He said.

“What do you mean? Won’t I be charged for it?” You asked him.

“Np, not if we... sweep this under the rug. But, if we do this then you have to do something in return. Do you want this?” He asked you. Your eyebrows lifted in surprise as you pondered his offer for a moment, you looked around the room.

“I-I do, but... will they actually do this? For me?” Y/N asked as he nodded. He seemed a bit gruff, just tired from the paperwork.

“We’ve discussed it but listen to me. You can’t tell anybody about this. We’re doing you a big favor, a huge one. The director said that more officers and detectives are needed in Roseville, he said they’d be glad to accept you. This will be a lot better than telling the court what happened.” He said.

“I, yeah, yeah.” You said, nodding in slight anticipation. Nonetheless, you were very grateful for this opportunity.

“Whenever you’re ready then but it might have to be in the next week or two.” Jonathan said to you as he looked around, somewhat nervously.

“Thank you...” You replied a bit awkwardly, not sure how to display your gratitude for him. He only nodded with a small smile, patting your head.

“Go home, kid. I’ll handle the guy.” He said as you nodded.

You sighed as you looked upwards, the sky was a mixture of purple and blue. This was your favorite type of weather. It brought peace and calmness. A small smile curled onto your lips when you thought of the old times, when you first experienced freedom and happiness. Your hands slid into your pockets as you continued to walk down the sidewalk, your gaze averting to the large building ahead. The Roseville Police Department, your future workplace.

The building looked rather strange for a police department. It had gates and vines around it, it almost looked like a school. Then again, school was indeed prison. You didn’t think about school much, in fact, you hated it. You never could relate to the other teens. Aside from writing and art, you really enjoyed watching horror movies. Anything horror intrigued you, books and movies alike. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that you were a horror fanatic. Strangely, it sort of inspired you to pursue this career. You were always pretty tough, blood and gore never bothered you. Even when you went to a morgue, it brought a small feeling of peace knowing the deceased were at rest.

You got closer and closer to the station, quickly since you were so lost within your own thoughts. The doors to the station were wooden yet grey, very large. Y/N looked around, there were very few police cars. Maybe being understaffed wasn’t the problem, it’s the fact that they seemed to be very poorly funded. You pushed the large door open, looking around the inside of the station. It was very eerie and quiet but seemed very cozy. A perfect image of the nineties. With your arms crossed, you walked up to the front desk. There was a cup of coffee, you assumed it was cold and took another look around. There were medical beds and tons of chairs stacked together. Not only that but there were statues and paintings. The paintings seemed old but the faces were creepy. Upon staring at them, you soon found inspiration in their haunting gazes.

This was going to be an interesting job, you thought.

Jed Olsen sighed deeply as he looked through different piles of papers that were piled together. It was rather stressful to have to proof-read his coworker’s work. Some of the work he looked over was really badly written. No wonder somebody of his talents got that job really easily. Ever since he arrived at Roseville, he thought he made a good impact on the city. Roseville lived in fear and that’s how he liked it.

As the young man’s thoughts turned towards his other line of profession, he smiled widely and rested his eyebrows. His name wasn’t actually Jed, it was Danny Johnson. Jed Olsen was the alter ego that Danny created when he came to this place. Aside from killing, writing was one of his professions. Danny was good at it and he even got to write about his own murders. It was exhilarating, to say the least. It brought excitement to this city, it brought excitement into his own life. The journalist façade was a great gig, he needed a job anyways. It was very convenient nobody questioned him or invited him to the bar. Then again, he was a bit younger so his coworkers didn’t bother to hang out with him much.

Danny looked around cautiously before pulling his bag towards him. He only carried around his camera. In his office, there weren’t any cameras and his door actually had a lock. There wasn’t anybody around since it was the evening and he decided to stay late to proof-read papers. His camera was black yet worn out and scratched up. Still, he chose to ignore it since that thing was his prized possession. Danny pretty much checked on it everyday to make sure it wasn’t broken and to just simply admire his work he did on it.

“Hmm...” He hummed to himself as he clicked through the photos on it. He smirked looking through his work.

His next murder was going to be perfect. Danny planned on getting more photos of Ghostface doing his heinous crimes. Jed Olsen managed to get photos of the serial killer taking pictures of his murders in rather cocky ways. And of course, the police had no idea that it was him who did it. The police here were amateurs that didn’t do their job right. It was incredibly easy getting away with the murders and surprisingly, the FBI didn’t get involved. Oh well, the law enforcement probably had other things to deal with right now.

As he clicked through the photos, thinking about his next murders, his thoughts were interrupted when he heard the familiar chime of the front door open. Maybe it was his boss? Danny quickly put his camera away in his desk drawer and rushed to unlock his door. The Roseville Gazette was usually a quiet place. He looked up as he noticed a young woman at the front desk of the gazette.

“Hey, how can I help you?” He asked, immediately switching to his Jed persona.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I was wondering if there was a Jed Olsen around here? I didn’t realize it was quiet here.” She said with a smile.

For a moment, Danny focused on her smile. It was a beautiful and genuine smile. Strange but not everybody was as shallow as his victims or the people he met. His gaze averted to her eyes and then her face. She was indeed a very beautiful person. A pleasant surprise, not that Danny ever indulged in romance.

“You’re speaking to him.” He replied with a playful shrug.

Y/N stared at him for a second before raising her eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh. well nice to meet you, Mr. Olsen.” You said as you extended your hand.

“The pleasure is mine.” Danny replied as he shook your hand.

The touch of your hand was rather soft. He didn’t know it yet but he felt slightly flustered. Danny never really met anybody that he considered attractive. Maybe he did but he never paid attention to that sort of thing.

“Do you have time right now? Or wanna schedule a date to quickly go over your work?” You asked him.

“A date?” He asked blankly. Danny didn’t know what you meant but his brain took it in a romantic way since he thought you were pretty. Your eyebrows furrowed awkwardly in confusion as you nodded slightly with a small smile.

“Um, yeah... I can come back sometime or we can meet at a coffee shop. I’m a detective so... yeah.” You say, automatically getting awkward around people your age. Danny nearly facepalmed himself but his mind quickly went to darker places.

A new detective? A detective who wanted to talk to him one-on-one? None of the detectives decided they wanted to question him. Did this woman find something? Did she suspect him? She looked like she could be a psychologist or something so maybe she wanted to see how he’d react when explaining the Ghostface articles he wrote? He’d have to get her last name and see where she lived. Y/N looked like she’d be easy to kill.

“Jed?” She asked in concern.

“Oh, yeah. Definitely... I have time right now. Sorry, I just get zoned out when I think of the murders and the sick photos he took.” He apologized.

“Don’t be sorry, that type of stuff is something nobody can get used to.” You reassured him. Jed was actually quite handsome.

“Yeah, you’re right. Come into my office.” He said, signaling with his head where his office was. You followed him in.

The office was old. It seemed rather boring at first but that’s what office jobs are for, anyways. His desk was quite clean. Jed seemed to be a very organized person. It would make sense considering his work on the Ghostface murders. You took a seat across from his desk and smiled a bit as he sat down. You were a pretty diligent worker so got straight to the point.

“So, Jed... as you know, there’s an ongoing investigation on the Ghostface Murders that I was assigned to.” You began. Danny nodded, leaning back in his office chair comfortably. He stared at you intently, watching your expression as he worried.

“I took on the liberty of reading your work on the murders. You write about him in a very peculiar way... admirably, almost.” You said to him. Danny tried to hide his worry but he was trying to figure out a way to kill you quickly. Maybe you were FBI? You were already sharper compared to the other officers/

“Anyways, I really love your work, Jed. I’ve taken a personal interest in the Ghostface. And as a detective, I’d like to get to try and get to know him as best I can.” You said with a hint of excitement in your eyes.

“Get to know him…?” He replied, slowly reaching for the knife taped under his desk.

“With your work and your input, I could put together a psychological report on him. If we want to catch him, we should figure out what type of person he is first.” Y/N said.

Danny’s fingers stopped right above the knife. His hand slowly backed away from the bottom of the desk. So, she didn’t suspect him? Danny almost laughed out of relief and at her. He was stupid for thinking she could’ve found out he was Ghostface. Y/N only seemed to be interested in his work.

“Oh, I see… yeah, that would make sense.” He said to you as you crossed one leg.

“I’m glad you agree. I’m determined to catch him and maybe even see his motivation.” You replied to him. Danny’s eyes sparked for a moment as he stared at you.

“His motivation?” He asked as you thought for a moment.

“Probably sounds strange, I know but… he must have a reason, right? And I find it so interesting how he goes about his murders. I actually have a theory about him.” You explained.

You seemed to trust Jed Olsen. The other officers and detectives said he liked to bug and probe them all the time for more information regarding the murders and what their progress was like. And truth be told? There was very little they could go off of. Ghostface was too methodical and careful, left absolutely no trace of himself besides the pictures Jed retrieved. He was a hard-working journalist and you had a good feeling about him, anywyas.

He was also pretty cute.

“I don’t think it’s strange, at all. I’ve never seen any of the detectives so passionate about the case. They always brush me off… so, what’s this theory?” Danny asked you, watching your expressions.

“Well, I only just saw your work today but I thought about it when I walked here. Ghostface seems to be rather cocky, a common trait in younger men. But, since we never caught him or anything, I know he’s really careful with what he does. The murders are also premeditated. They’re too… clean and carefully executed even if it is a bloodbath.” You sort of rambled on.

A weird feeling tingled inside of Danny as you continued to explain your theory.

“He’s really cunning and methodical. And based on my other observations, I think he uses the murders as a way of expressing himself. I’ve read about other serial killers caught… they usually leave marks, take trophies, and know the victim in some ways. Or they’re just cold-blooded but not in his case. I think he sees the murders as a form of art or something along those lines.” You said to him.

His eyebrows raised in surprise. Who the hell was she? Danny thought for a moment. She was right, he did see his murders as art and something beautiful. Did she see it that way too? This woman was strange, indeed. As as young detective, he admired her naive nature.

“That would actually make sense… he does seem to make an unnecessarily big mess when killing and yet, the police can’t find anything on him? It makes total sense.” Jed replied.

“Right? Anyways, I was going to ask if you can type of a report or something along those lines. Give me every single detail you know about him and your analogy. Your input could be vital to solving this case.” You said, standing up.

“If you don’t mind me asking, detective, why are you so interested in him? You’re really passionate about this.” He said to you.

“I wanna understand him and see more of his artwork… it’s pretty fascinating. Also, you can just call me Y/N. Have that report ready in a week?” She asked him.

“Yeah, definitely.” Danny replied to you.

“See you then, Jed.” Y/N said as she nodded with a confident smile.

Y/N was indeed young and naive. Although, she didn’t share anything confidential, she placed a lot of trust into the journalist. Then again, why should she be untrusting of him? The young woman was so passionate, intelligent, and seemed to have a very strong sense of independence. Danny assumed she came here without any authority, taking matters into her own hands. A by-the-book cop? Maybe, maybe not. Danny found that strangely attractive. However, she might even hinder his efforts and catch him. He couldn’t let that happen, yet…

There was something so intoxicating about her. Danny never met anybody that was so compassionate and understanding to his cause. Maybe, he saw her motivation in his own twisted way. This woman wanted to understand him, to see things as he does. Nobody has ever went to that length for him. Not only that but, she had no problem talking about such grimey things in a way that she didn’t get disgusted. The man had a bit of a crazed stare in his eyes as he began to recall her features.

Detective Y/N, just who were you?

And so, the obsession begins.

#dbd x reader #dead by daylight #dead by daylight fanfic #dbd fanfic #ghostface #ghostface x reader #jed olsen x reader #danny johnson x reader #dead by daylight x reader #danny johnson #jed olsen #the ghostface

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doctenwho · 3 years

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Hardy’s Cure for Sadness

Hello! Sorry this took a while, I couldn’t figure out for the life of me how to start it! I loved the request, and it was so fun to write when I figured out where I was taking it! Thanks for the request! :D

I’m glad you like my work! I hope you like this one too!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,270

Summary: Check the prompt above!

(Gif doesn’t belong to me! Credit to the creator!)

The day had been long. You’d known when you got the job that it would be long hours and lots of dutiful work, but you’d never really thought a workplace could work you as ragged as the Wessex Police station did. You weren’t even an officer, instead a receptionist, which was quite possibly more work than being an actual officer.

Not only did you have to deal with moody citizens filing reports and asking to speak with officers, or detectives, but you also had to deal with the moody officer's upstairs who were always irritated when you phoned up for someone. They were always frustrated with you for disturbing them, when you were really just the middle man.

Then there was dealing with the media, and attempting to console people who came in upset, or angry. There was being the person who’s calls got ignored upstairs when people were busy, and you were left with antsy citizens.

And you understood it all, you couldn’t even imagine being an officer and have to deal with the gruesome parts of the job, like Danny Latimer’s murder for example.

You really couldn’t win being a receptionist at the station.

The officers barely noticed you, let alone spoke to you. A few did, a pleasant few, like Ellie Miller, who was friendly and cheerful with everyone, but the majority of the office barely glanced your way unless they needed something from you.

It was tiring to say the least.

You leaned back in your chair, glancing around briefly for anyone who may need you, before letting your head fall back against the office chair and rubbing at your tired eyes.

It was just one of those days where you felt sad, but didn’t know why. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it hit you like freight truck. It wasn’t even that you were sad about anything in general—just... blah. The kind of feeling you had where you wanted nothing more than to leave the office and tuck yourself into bed at home.

And honestly, being stuck in the office really didn’t help those feelings.

You gave a tired sigh, pulling yourself back towards the desk and returning your aching eyes to the screen of documents you were going over before they could be sent up to be looked over by one of the officers. A glorified proof reader is what the guys upstairs thought you were.

It wasn’t even in your job description, but you were too nice to turn them away, and one always turned into two, and then three, and before you knew it, you were elbow deep in documents.

You didn’t hate your job here. Everyone was nice most of the time, and as much as you liked to complain, you had it pretty good. The pay was good, and it was worth it to stick around for the few people upstairs who respected you and held friendly conversation whenever you were around.

Plus, you always got to use the break room upstairs and take free coffee, or tea to have at your desk downstairs.

It had its share of pros and cons like any other occupation; some days were just harder than others. And for no reason. Nothing prompted your sadness today, it was just what it was.

It was getting quite late in the evening. You couldn’t really leave until the officers upstairs did, since you and your fellow receptionists were usually first to arrive, and last to leave. The three receptionists who swap out, the Chief Superintendents, the Detective Chief Inspector and the Detective Inspector were the only ones to have keys to the building.

It was both a blessing and a curse. You didn’t have to wait in your car for the building to be unlocked when you arrived early, but then again, at the end of the night when all the higher ups left at their usually time, but others were still busy with cases, you couldn’t leave until they did.

Thankfully though, it was usually DI Hardy and DS Miller who stayed later, so you could leave, so long as DI Hardy was around. He was usually good about staying behind late and locking up when he left (if he did leave for the night).

He’d been nothing but nice to you since he’d arrived. And that was a change of pace, since most of the higher ups tended to just breeze passed the reception desk to get to work. DI Hardy had been pleasant to you, at least in his own gruff kind of way.

But still, how most of the building talks about him, you’d never have imagined him to be as nice as he was to you. He usually stopped by for conversation, thought it was a bit awkward at times. You thought it was endearing though, since he always looked nervous, but still put in the effort to talk with you when he had the time.

Less could be said about anyone ranked higher than DI Hardy. The officers were usually friendly enough as they passed by, throwing quick greetings and friendly waves over their shoulders, but it was refreshing that Hardy too the time to check in from time to time. Especially since no one else considered a boss ever did.

You focused back onto your screen, eyes straying tiredly to anything that wasn’t bright and blinding in the evening hours. You liked to keep track of who came and went every day. You knew each member of staff by heart, so you could always keep track of when people were leaving.

If you were correct, that meant it was just Ellie and DI Hardy working away.

So, technically you could leave, but you did have more work to finish up before tomorrow, and you’d rather get it done now, instead of coming in early tomorrow to complete it.

You continued on, fingers flying over the keyboard with practiced ease.

You didn’t bother looking up from your document until Ellie appeared before you, smile bright, but tired. “You’re still here?” she asked kindly.

“Just finishing up,” you told her, hoping you’d returned the smile, “is DI Hardy still in the building?”

“He is,” Ellie gave a grimace, “sittin’ in his office staring at the files of Danny Latimer’s case.” She gave a tired sigh, rubbing her eyes. You knew the thought of the case exhausted anyone involved, Ellie and Hardy probably the most of anyone, since the two of them had been the most dedicated in getting justice for Danny. “You can leave now, if it was us who you were waiting for. Hardy will lock up when he’s on his way, that is if he even leaves.”

“That’s alright,” you gave her a small smile, “I’ve still got some work to finish up before I can head out.”

“Alright, well,” Ellie gave you another bright smile, “I’ll be off then, my boys are waiting for me.”

“Have a good night, Ellie,” you gave her a small wave as she moved towards the doors.

“You too,” Ellie grinned, “don’t let Hardy keep you here too late, alright?”

You returned a good-natured laugh as Ellie finally stepped out into the cool evening outside the office. You watched her retreating form for a moment, before it disappeared from sight, and you tiredly let your attention drop back to your computer screen.

You continued on working on your documents. It was a couple hours past the time the station usually closed. It made sense that the station closed relatively early, compared to stations in bigger, urban areas. In comparison, Broadchurch had very little crimes, and it was usually petty crimes such as trespassing, theft, and occasional breaking and entering.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been staring at your screen when Hardy finally made an appearance in the room. You’d just kind of given up on typing, and was instead just staring at the screen.

The man looked like deer caught in the headlight of a vehicle when he finally noticed you still sat at the lobby desk. He eyed you for a moment, blinking at your slouched form before clearing his throat, “(Y/N),�� he bowed his head in a greeting, “what’re you still doing here? It’s late.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you shrugged, fiddling with your fingers, “I was just finishing up a few things for tomorrow.”

The man looked you over from where he was standing across the room, eyeing your slouched position and looking all the way to your hands, which weren’t anywhere near the keyboard. You just now noticed you really didn’t look like you’d been working at all.

How long had you been staring off into space?

“Are... are you alright?”

You blinked at the man. He was still in the exact same spot he’d been when he noticed you, but he was close enough to catch a glimpse over the tall divider protecting the computers from onlookers when they were stood at the counter.

“Yeah, of course,” you cleared your throat, you’d hoped you could’ve just hidden away, or not been noticed like how Ellie had just walked by. But Hardy seemed a bit more observant. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just... look sad.” The man frowned, then, he seemed to back track, “not that I mean anything by that... it was just... ah, never mind. You look lovely as always.”

“No, no,” you sighed, “you’re right. I’m... well, not really sad. Or, not sad for any reason, you know? Just... blah.”

“Ah,” Hardy gave a slight nod, looking towards you before looking away abruptly. “I was... just heading out to eat if you’d like to join me?” He paused, glancing at you, then looking down at back of the screen in front of you, “unless you’re still working, then disregard me.”

“You wanna go out to eat now?” you asked with a raised eyebrow. Hardy once again looked like a deer caught in the headlight, blinking nervously, “I mean, I’d love to, of course, but... isn’t everything closed?”

“The bar will be open,” the man shrugged, “I’m not much of a drinker, but there’s fairly good food there?”

“Are you sure?” you couldn’t help but ask.

You weren’t too sure what to think of this situation. Alec Hardy had been nice to you, he had since his arrival, of course. But the most interaction the two of you’d really had was when he’d occasionally bring you a tea from the breakroom; there were glances, and nods of acknowledgment, or a rare, tiny smile as he walked past. Conversations were short and sweet, and usually in passing.

But he’d never prompted anything like... eating out. You weren’t sure he’d suggested eating out with anyone in the office, other than maybe Ellie. And that was usually Ellie talking the man into it with her friendly hard-to-say-no-to charm. Hardy liked to keep to himself, which was why you were both unsure of the current interaction, but honored all the same.

“Sure,” Hardy have a dip of his head, looking out at the car park where your single car remained, “wouldn’t’ve offered if I wasn’t sure.”

He paused for a second, looking around before he continued in a soft voice, “I mean, I’d like if you came with me.”

And that sealed the deal for you.

“Alright,” you gave him a small smile. “I’d like to join you.”

You almost laughed at the surprise on Hardy’s face. It was funny as much as the look was sad. You could only imagine the previous rejection that would’ve curved that look. You couldn't understand why anyone would turn the man down—they should be happy at getting anything other than the stony, hard faced detective that was keeping Broadchurch safe.

“Right then,” Hardy cleared his throat, “shall we then?”

“Sure,” you replied, organizing your papers for the morning just a bit before standing and rounding to the other side of the desk. “To the Trader’s Hotel then?”

“Yes,” the man pushed the door open for you, and you stepped out quickly. You watched as Hardy locked the door behind himself after he’d joined you out in the chill of the ocean air. The two of you decided quickly between walking and taking your car.

The hotel wasn’t far, but Hardy seemed to be set on you not walking back to the station alone when the two of you were finished eating. It was a nice enough night that you’d be pushing to just stroll along, but you couldn’t deny that the thought of walking to your car with the person who killed Danny Latimer still out there, didn’t scare you.

You’d almost forgotten that Hardy still lived at the Trader’s Hotel, just because he’s been around for weeks already, and you barely ever remembered he wasn’t a native to Broadchruch.

The drive over to the hotel was nice. It was quiet, and there was next to no traffic since the whole of Broadchurch tended to shut down in the late evening. Neither of you said very much, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. You knew Hardy just wasn’t a talkative person, but him inviting you out to eat was nice gesture.

Hardy led you into the hotel, taking a turn and leading you into the small bar section. Becca Fisher gave the man a nod, before noticing you following behind him. She raised a confused eyebrow, but gave you a friendly wave anyways.

The two of you sat at a table, and Becca was quick to join you and take your orders.

Conversation flowed relatively easily while the two of you waited for your food and drinks. Neither of you had ordered any alcohol, since you still had to drive home, and Hardy had said he wasn’t much of a drinker. You’d ordered a meal off the menu you’d had once or twice, while Hardy seemed to order a usual, since Becca didn’t even ask him what he wanted.

The two of you talked about work. You talked of the office before Hardy’s arrival, and how much had changed since he’d come. And he told you bits and pieces of his past station and some of his memorable cases. The two of you talked about nothing relating to Danny Latimer’s case, or anything relevant happening at the station.

“I swear,” he told you, voice light as he sipped on his water, “that was the weirdest arrest I’ve ever had to make in all my years.”

“Well, you don’t forget something like that,” you snorted a laugh into your own water. You set your glass back on the table and took another forkful of your meal, smiling widely at Hardy. “That’s hilarious.”

Becca had brought your food out quite quickly since the bar was relatively dead at this time. You dove into your food, starving after staying later than you usually did and not having eaten since lunch. Hardy wasn’t as excited to receive his food, but Ellie often complained in good fun that her boss didn’t ever eat or sleep, as far as she knew.

He’d always seemed like a perfectly normal guy to you, just... a bit different. He was far more normal than the rest of the station thought him to be, but then again, everyone else was going off looks where you and Ellie were seeing him for more than his harsh speech and stiff mannerisms.

Alec watched you across the table, fondly dropping his gaze whenever you looked back at him.

“What?” you could help but ask, smile small as you evened yourself after laughing at his story.

“Nothing,” he shrugged, “you have a very nice smile is all. I missed it earlier when I saw you.”

“You missed it?” you asked in surprise, furrowing your eyebrows at the man across the table, “why?”

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly, “you’ve just been a very nice person since I arrived. I know I’m not well liked, but you never really treated me any differently than you treated anyone else. I got kinda used to your smile, I guess.”

You didn’t say anything, watching him as he pushed his food around his plate more than he ate it. He looked up at you again, giving you a small smile, “it was the first thing I noticed when I met you, and the first thing I noticed wasn’t here this evening.”

You weren't sure how to respond. How was Alec Hardy this sweet, but still nicknamed ‘shit-face’ by the others in the office. Not a single other person had noticed your droopy mood. You’d been blah all day, and no one said a thing. But the first time Hardy really sees you, he’s noticed and he’s trying to cheer you up.

“No one else noticed,” you mumbled, setting your fork down on your nearly empty plate.

“They’ll all have a long time to wait before they’re observant enough to be a detective then,” Hardy said. And it almost sounded like a joke. Hardy looked towards you, giving you another tiny smile. Hardy had made a joke.

You gave a surprised laugh, at both the joke itself, and the fact that Hardy had made a joke. You gave the man a smile, to which he returned a fond look, smiling at the smile gracing your lips.

“Are you finished eating?” Hardy asked softly, pushing his own plate away. He’d barely eaten anything, but you were not close enough to him to comment on it. Yet.

“Yeah,” you yawned, “it’s pretty late. I’m exhausted.”

“It is late,” Hardy nodded, waving Becca, who’d been watching the two of you almost the whole time you’d been sitting at the table, over for the cheque. She came over, handed him the cheque, then gathered the two plates and the glasses you’d both used for water.

“I’m glad you could join me,” Hardy continued to speak, pocketing the cheque before you could see and pay your half, “it was far better having you here to eat with me, than eating alone.”

“I’m glad you invited me,” you gave him another small smile, “thank you for the invite, I think it was just what I needed to cheer me up. I don’t feel as sad anymore.”

“Anything to get that smile back on your face,” he replied with what you’d almost assume was an uncharacteristically sweet voice. You were starting to think he was just a big, soft teddy bear underneath all that gruff Detective Inspector, “don’t worry about paying, I’ve got a tab that Becca has added to the room.”

“Are you sure?” You frowned, almost feeling bad about Hardy paying for you. Sure, you’d come because he invited you, but you should still pay for yourself.

“Yeh,” Hardy nodded, standing up and waiting by the table for you to stand as well, “it was my treat. I invited you. Now, you should get home. I look forward to seeing that smile of yours tomorrow.”

The man walked you out to your car, standing there until you drove away. You watched in your rearview mirror as the man turned to enter the hotel as you turned out of the parking lot. You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face if you tried. This super late meal was all you really needed, and Hardy was an absolute saint for providing it.

And if the smile on your face the following morning wasn’t as fond and bright as the evening before with Hardy, the coffee sat on your desk, made perfectly to your liking, when you walked into the office certainly would’ve made it.

<><><><>

Hope you enjoyed! As always, feel free to prompt again if it wasn’t what you were looking for! Wasn’t sure how to go about this, but I hope it’s alright!

#alec hardy #alec hardy x reader #broadchurch #reader insert #writing prompt #fanfiction #fanfic

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anxiousstark · 4 years

Text

S2 02 | Shape Shifted

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall Word count: 2736 Warnings: Mentions of dead bodies, injuries, blood, angst, swearing (always). A/N: I’m not really proud of this chapter. It is fast and not too long. At first, I thought about skipping it, but I totally needed it to be able to introduce Isaac Lahey. Furthermore, the black backpack it’s truly important for Y/N’s past with her mother, and for her relationship with Scott!

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

"Scott told me you weren't coming today." Allison stared at me, concerned.

"What's the point of staying at home?" I chuckled. I didn't remember anything about last night. I had this uneasy feeling, but I couldn't recall anything. I remembered running after Lydia when she escaped from the hospital's window, and the next thing I was lying down on my bed after being found in the woods. "Melissa will kill me when she finds out I'm not home." I laughed.

"Oh, she will kill you." My half-brother's girlfriend smiled, clutching her books against her chest. "Stiles told me that you guys are better than ever." She blushed, nodding. "I hope you guys stay like that. Scott glares at me less when you guys are together." I smirked. It was true. Scott seemed to be calmer when he was in good terms with Allison.

"I need to go grab some books from my locker." She kissed Lydia's cheek, who had been quiet most of the time. "See you guys later." She side-hugged me.

"They called it a fugue state, which is basically a way of saying ‘We have no idea why you can't remember running through the woods naked," Lydia said while I opened the door for her. "But personally, I don't care. I lost nine pounds." She giggled.

"We were out there for almost an entire day," I answered back. "Isn't it crazy that we don't remember anything that happened during the time we were wandering around?"

"As I said before," She retouched her lipstick. "I lost nine pounds." I saw Jackson a couple of meters away from us, Lydia was walking directly to him. But his eyes were fixed on me while he smirked.

"Do your ears and nose bleed a lot?"

Fuck you, Jackson.

I walked to the bleachers, sitting down behind Scott and Stiles. Again, I was surprised that Scott was a werewolf because he hadn't noticed me as he was too busy talking to his friend. I got closer to them. "Boo." Both boys jumped, terrified. Their screams were so high pitched that half of the lacrosse team were staring at us. They both turned around to look at me. "Oh god, that was so fucking fu-"

Two arms wrapped around me, Stiles. Now, I was almost sitting on his lap, arms wrapped tightly around my waist, his face hiding on my neck. At first, I didn't know how to react, but I ended up wrapping my arms around him too. My right hand rubbed his back while the other rested on the back of his neck, pulling him closer to me, which seemed almost impossible. "I'm sorry." He whispered.

"For what?"

He sighed, his warm breath caressing the side of my neck, making me shiver. "I'm sorry for leaving you at the dance just to go with Lydia." His voice cracked.

"Stiles, we talked about this." I rubbed his back in circles. "It was your opportunity to get close to Lydia." Forming those words made my heart throb, but I continued. "You don't have to apologize for something your heart was telling you to do."

"My heart was confused." He whispered. "And because of that, you got hurt."

"It wasn't your fault." My fingers caressed his buzz-cut hair. "You didn't hit me, Chris Argent did."

"He could have killed you if he wanted. He didn't do it because you are of value. Because you are something that interests him." He clenched his jaw. "He could have killed you if he wanted to." Stiles paused. "And I never thanked you for saving me from Peter Hale back at the hospital."

"Anyone would have done that for you, Stilisnki."

We heard someone cough, and we decided it was time to part ways. Even though I didn't want to. Stupid Scott.

You know when you shower and wear clean clothes. You get inside your bed with fresh sheets. The smell and freshness embrace you, and you feel safe. That's exactly what I felt in Stiles's arms.

"Uhm. So what about the plan?" Stiles stopped looking deeply into my eyes to glance at Scott, who had interrupted us.

"What plan?" I curiously asked, sitting next to Stiles.

"There seems to be another wolf in the lacrosse team." The Hazel-eyed boy explained to me. "I told coach you're switching with Danny for the day."

"But I hate playing goal."

"Remember when I said I had an idea? This is the idea."

"Oh." He didn't understand. "What's the idea?"

"I seriously don't understand how you survive without me sometimes." He shook his head. "McCall's will always need me."

Coach called the entire lacrosse team. Stiles was the first one to go back to the field while Scott stopped to look at me. "Uhm, I hope you feel better."

"Did Melissa tell you to say that?" I jokingly asked.

"Actually, yes." He grinned when he saw how my face went back to a serious one. "I'm kidding. I really hope you feel better."

I nodded, smiling. "Thank you." I looked at him directly on the eyes. "And thank you for finding me."

"It wasn't me." He pointed at Stiles when he saw my confused expression. "It was him." Then he sighed. "And please, I can smell you guys."

"Smell what? I got showered so you can't joke about me smelling or something because I promise you I will kill you."

"No," He chuckled. "I smell Stiles." He paused. "And you, you know."

"No, I don't." He groaned, going back to the field, murmuring something about it 'not being his job'.

It seems like Stiles's plan was for Scott to throw every lacrosse player to the ground, smelling them to make sure that they were not a werewolf.

I was confused when in the distance, I saw Sheriff Stilisnki marching towards the field.

The match had been stopped by the police. "His father's dead. They think he was murdered."

"Are they saying he's a suspect?" Noah Stilisnki softly grasped Isaac's arm, letting him know that he had to go with them to the station. He was a major suspect. "Because they can lock him in a holding cell for 24 hours." Scott was still trying to understand what Stiles was trying to say. "During the full moon."

"How good are these holding cells at holding people?"

"People, good. Werewolves, probably not that good."

Isaac followed the sheriff's orders, but before completely disappearing from our sight, he turned around, looking at the other werewolf boy. "Stiles, remember when I said I don't have the urge to maim and kill?"

Stiles nodded.

"He does." I interrupted Scott. I could also feel it. I could feel the rage. He was going to explode.

After what happened in the field, we had to go to class with Mr. Harris. I didn't fancy that man, he made me feel quite uncomfortable, and his subject was monotonous.

"Why would Derek choose Isaac?" I heard Scott whisper. Both boys were sitting in front of me while I was sitting behind them, in front of Danny boy.

"Peter told me that if the bite doesn't turn you it could kill you. And maybe teenagers have a better chance of surviving."

"Doesn't being a teenager mean your dad can't hold him?"

"Well, not unless they have solid evidence. Or a witness. Wait." Stiles turned around, he offered me a little smile, making my heart beat like crazy. "Danny. Where's Jackson?"

"In the principal's office talking to your dad." My interest peaked when I heard what he had said.

"What? Why?"

"Maybe because he lives across the street from Isaac."

The hazel-eyed boy who only liked to get into trouble glanced at Scott and me. "We gotta get to the principal's office."

"How?"

I saw Stiles ripping a blank page from his notebook, shaping a not-so-round ball with it. "Everyone please turn to page 73." Mr. Harris was writing on the blackboard when the paper ball hit the back of his head. "Who in the hell did that?" Both troublemakers pointed at each other. Oh god.

Gosh, Mr. Stilisnki was right. I would only be into trouble if I went along with Scott and Stiles. But I couldn't let these two fools get themselves killed. I quickly made a paper ball, throwing it at Mr. Harris, hitting him directly on the nose. Classmates started snickering while Scott and Stiles glanced at me perplexed, but with grins on their faces. "Damn guys, I thought you said we were throwing them at the count of three." I winked at them.

However, Mr. Harris didn't seem to find it hilarious as he sent the three of us to detention. We were sitting outside when Stiles's dad came out. He hid his face behind my back, in hopes that his father wouldn't see him. Stiles under pressure was as dumb as Scott in his daily life.

"Scott." Sheriff Stilisnki greeted him. Then, he looked at his son, letting a sigh of defeat leave his mouth. "Y/N," He also greeted me. "How is that wound?"

"What wound?" I smiled, letting him know that I was feeling just fine.

He grinned back. "Good. I'm happy for you." He crossed his arms, telling his coworkers to go ahead. "I suppose you three are here to go into detention." I bit my lower lip while Scott nodded. Stiles still hiding his face behind my back. "Well, Y/N, you aren't going."

I gazed at him, utterly confused.

Stiles finally decided to stop using me as a shield. "Oh, wow-Dad! What a surprise!" Mr. Stilisnki, Scott, and I rolled our eyes. Sometimes, Stiles could be a complete fool. "Why isn't she going?"

I swallowed. I could feel both boys gazing at me.

"It isn't an interrogation, don't worry." Noah intervened. "But we need you to come back to the station. It is quite important, Y/N." I couldn't help but glance at Stiles, my anxiety going up as seconds when by. Why did they need me at the police station?

Stiles smiled at me, but I could see that he was as nervous and bewildered as me. "You are lucky," He punched me lightly on the arm. "You skip this stupid long detention." He moved a strand of hair away from my face. "And you are going to be with the coolest Sheriff of the city." He winked at his dad.

"We will still talk about this at home, Stiles." He smirked. "Come get her at the station when you finish whatever you did."

The hazel-eyed boy pouted, conducting his gaze to me. "Seems like it's going to be a long day for both of us." He muttered.

"Do you want anything to drink or eat?" Noah Stilinski took a seat in front of me. We were separated by a metal table. I shook my head while placing my hands on top of the cold surface. "I know you must be nervous about me taking you here without giving you any hint."

"And I'm in the interrogation room, so I'm even more nervous." I chuckled. "Please, go directly to the reason that made me be here."

"Do you remember Sheriff Posey? Back where you used to live?" He slid a picture of said Sheriff so I could see at him.

I nodded my head. I didn't remember much of him, but he saved my life a couple of times and did his best to snap Alice back to real life. Of course, it didn't work. "He was the one who 'took care' of Ali- my mom's situation."

Noah nodded. "He is gonna retire due to some health inconveniences."

"I hope he is okay," I sincerely expressed my feelings. "But what does that have to do with me?"

Sheriff Stilinski sighed, pulling something that was under the table, letting it fall on top of it. A black backpack. "Do you recognize this bag?" I shook my head. "Sherrif Posey had it for a long time, he wanted to wait until you were older." His eyes searched deep in mines. "This is the bag your mother took to jail. It was given to Sheriff Posey when-"

"When she killed herself." I finished for him. No tears. But my hands were full of sweat.

"Inside the bag, there are items she took to jail, and the ones they let her keep." He sighed. "Of course, those who work in jails must be strict about what inmates can keep. There won't be much, maybe a couple of pictures, something that reminded her of the outside world. Sheriff Posey thought you should be the one deciding what to do with all of this."

He slid the bag towards me. "I don't want it." I was surprised. My voice didn't creak. "You can throw it away."

He sorrowfully smiled. "I had a feeling you would say that." He coughed a little. "I've been following your case since my friend Posey told me about you. I know how much you went through, from an outsider point of view." I nodded, he was the first person who talked to me that way. It was nice, and it made me think of Stiles. "I'm still gonna give you this bag. Do whatever you want with it." I glanced at the bag, nodding. "You can take your time with it. It isn't a decision you must take right away."

My eyes glistened while I peered at him. "They re-opened the case, right?" My voice came out in a whisper. "Her family re-opened the case, right?"

Noah nodded. "It wasn't your fault, okay? They are a heart-broken family. What they went through...nobody should have to experience that. But it wasn't your fault, and the judge gave you the reason." He grabbed my hands, his thumbs caressing the back of my hands. "You have all of us now."

After the conversation with Mr. Stilinski, he made me wait in his office, telling me to feel comfortable while I waited for Stiles to come for me. I was sitting on a couch, my eyes examining the black bag that used to be the most precious thing that my mother ever had. Funny, right?

The door opened, and I was met with Stiles. He smiled when he saw me, and I did the same. "Finally!" I got up from the couch. "I'm so tired. I want to go home."

When I saw his nervous laugh I concluded that we weren't going home yet. "I need to grab the keys of every cell in the station. There's a dude dressed as an officer who wants to kill Lahey. Also, seems like Isaac was being abused by his father, Scott is in his old house, trying to investigate and Derek is flirting with the receptionist. Well, distracting her, you know."

"Okay, so where are the keys?"

Stiles walked to a little grey box that was on the wall, introducing a code. But when it opened, it was empty. "Fuck, someone already got to them." Stiles ran out of the office without waiting for me.

"Yo, wait." I grabbed the backpack, throwing it over my shoulder. When I heard the fire alarm, I started running. "Stiles! Stiles?"

In a couple of seconds, I was able to find him. His back was against the wall while he looked ahead. Isaac Lahey has escaped from his cell, and he was fighting with a man that was dressed as an officer. Isaac grabbed the head of the fraudulent officer, slamming him against the wall. Then, he turned around, looking at Stiles. He moved to get closer to him, stopping when I firmly hissed at him. Nails coming out, ice-blue eyes and scales decorating from my wrist to elbow. He felt threatened but still tried to attack me until Derek appeared.

"How did you do that?"

"I'm the Alpha."

Derek left, taking Isaaw with him before the other officers came to the room due to the alarm. Stiles rushed to me. "Are you okay?" I nodded. "You need to calm down. The scales are still out."

I glanced at my arms. "I don't know how to control it. It just happens." He nodded while talking his plaid off, helping me wear it. We were interrupted by coughs. Uh oh, Sheriff Stilinski and other officers were looking at us.

I peered at Stiles while he looked at the man laying on the floor. "Uh," He pointed to the man. "He did it."

TAGLIST: @og-baby-ob14 - @savemypostcards - @cas-loves-pizza - @used-avocado - @mvrylee - @bilesxbilinskixlahey - @honeydoll-stark - @arieltheworldisamess - @softpeteparker - @kit-kat-katie99 - @thatsuperherosidekick - @bexbetterxthanxwords - @big-galaxy-chaos - @littlemiss-forgotten - @enchantedcruelsummer - @coldfreakeggsexpert - @merla123 - @sammypotato67 - @weirdowithnobeardo - @maggiesblogsblog - @itskindyl - @bobo-bush - @moongoddesskiana - @multifandxm353 - @irwxnhugsx - @xoprincessmel - @iclosetgeek - @andreagf956 - @niawoods - @anerroroccurrrrred - @perrytheplatypus11 - @trustfundparker - @nmriia - @steve-harringtonnn - @trustfundparker -

People in black means it doesn’t let me tag them.

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doctorbeverlycrusher · 4 years

Note

For the asks: 2 and 3 😊

Thank you for the asks ❤️

2 - Top 5 overrated shows

It really takes a lot for me to dislike a show or something, but here’s some that I’ve never quite seemed to enjoy as much as the masses. I’ve enjoyed these at parts, but I was never as invested in them as most people.

The Walking Dead

Riverdale

Danny Phantom

Supernatural

Hey Arnold

3 - Top 5 underrated shows

I’m going to give a little description with these ones but here are some shows I really enjoy(ed) that I don’t see talked about enough

Providence - Sydney Hansen, played by Melina Kanakaredes (who was later on CSI:NY), goes home to Providence, Rhode Island, after the death of her mother, and ends up staying to be with her family. It’s this wonderful slice of life drama that I ended up finding by accident when my sister turned on the W Network one morning to find a rerun of it. The show has a really unique thing where the cold open to every episode starts with Sydney in some sort of dream sequence involving her mother.

Corner Gas - A sitcom set in the small town of Dog River, Saskatchewan and focuses on some of the residents. There’s Brent, the owner of the titular Corner Gas gas station which is inherited from his cranky father Oscar. His mother Emma is rather sharp witted and can hold her own against Oscar but the two really do love each other. The other major characters include Brent’s dimwitted best friend Hank, his extremely sarcastic and smart co-worker Wanda, city girl Lacey who moved from Toronto to run her deceased aunt’s coffee shop, and the only two cops in town, Davis and Karen. The show was popular in Canada when it aired, but I think it can appeal to non-Canadians as well, especially if you like quirky humour.

Human Target - Loosely based on a DC comic book character, Human Target followed Christopher Chance, a former assassin who went rogue and basically became a security specialist/mercenary for hire for people in need. He’s aided in this by Winston, a former police inspector and Guerrero, another assassin who had the same employer as Chance. In season 2, he gains a rich widowed benefactor Ilsa Pucci. At the time I watched this show, I was obsessed with the police procedurals. This show had that feel, but with a whole spy/assassin/action element that I really enjoyed and I wish it had lasted longer.

Due South - RCMP officer Benton Fraser in all his stereotypical polite non-threatening Canadian man glory heads to Chicago to investigate the murder of his father. His investigation leads to him gaining a position at the Canadian consulate where he works along Chicago PD cop Ray Vecchio. Season 3 replaces Vecchio with Ray Kowalski. There is a very divisive line in the fandom over which Ray is better and/or which Ray you ship with Fraser. Also, Fraser has a deaf, lip-reading, pure white half-wolf named Diefenbaker who is the definition of a good doggo. There is a thriving fandom for this show, but I think it would really appeal to younger people in fandom if they watched it as well.

Stickin’ Around - Most Canadian kids around my age would would remember this animated show from YTV. The show revolves around Stacy Stickler, her best friend Bradley and a group of other kids. The show is drawn in a stick person style and looks like a stereotypical children’s drawing. The show is extremely hard to find which is one of the reasons why I think it holds such a nostalgia factor for me. Anyway, if you ever find it, watch some of it. It’s ridiculous and absurd, but entertaining.

#asks

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jakegyllenhaalsupportgroup · 5 years

Text

Items In A Shoebox

This is day one of the 500 Followers JGCU Write Fest!!!! Thank you all again so much for 500 followers - this is a piece that I’ve been planning for a while and talking about for even longer, Detective Loki’s backstory within the JGCU!!!

Just to warn you that this piece talks about a lot of hella sensitive topics and so because of that your discretion when reading it is advised, please don’t read if it’s going to trigger you in any way. I’ve attempted to be delicate about the topic but please don’t read if it will upset you more than it ought to

Other than that, though, I hope you guys enjoy reading this!! I’m genuinely quite proud of how this turned out but again I have to state: don’t read this if you feel it will be too much/too intense and will trigger you (murder, domestic abuse and more are mentioned in this piece) and as well as that, please remember that this isn’t Detective Loki’s official background in Prisoners. I worked with what was given in the film and created my own idea of his background from what was given so PLEASE don’t attack me if I maybe don’t go with the canon/what you had in mind as I will cry

Loki’s hands traced over the top of the shoebox. The corners were tattered and worn with age, pieces of the brown cardboard showing in places. A thin layer of dust covered the top as Loki held it in his hands, sat cross legged on the floor of his room.

He hesitated before opening it. To him the shoebox was Pandora’s box. The only thing holding him back from a barrage of painful memories was a thin layer of green cardboard.

His fingers played with the lid of the box before he let out a long sigh and opened it.

///

David turned the purple dinosaur over in his hands.

His dad brought him back a dinosaur whenever he went away. When he’d come back he’d bring a dinosaur for him. Some flowers for him mum.

The flowers had stopped recently. But the dinosaurs always came.

David ran his little fingers over the top of the dinosaur’s body. He was sat on the sofa, his parents arguing in the room behind him. But he stared down at the dinosaur.

He liked dinosaurs.

Ever since he had learnt about them in school he had been interested in them. His teacher had lent him a book on them and David had first learnt the world ‘palaeontologist’, deciding swiftly that that was what he wanted to be when he grew up.

His father usually tried to find ‘unrealistic’ dinosaurs for him.

Multicoloured dinosaurs that would line up on his desk, looking at the child with cartoonish faces that David loved.

His dad thought that his love of dinosaurs was too grown up for a child of five. The way that he could recite every fact from that book his teacher had leant him worried his dad.

Sure, David was smart. But no kid should be that smart.

No kid should be as mature as David had had to be.

Five year old David stood from the sofa as he heard another crash from the room next door. He peaked his head around the corner as he always did when it got to this point in his parents fights.

His father was red faced as he stood above David’s mother.

His wonderful, friendly, loving, supportive father.

David almost couldn’t recognise him.

To David his father had two sides - the side that he saw and the side that his mother brought out.

He couldn’t understand why his father reacted as he did towards his mother. David’s mother was sweet and caring and so, so concerned with his father. She would do anything to make sure that his father kept happy.

David rushed back to the sofa when he heard his mother begin to scream, he hid himself under the couch cushions willing himself away.

By the time the screaming and smashing had stopped the dinosaur had left deep marks in David’s hands.

///

The purple dinosaur was the only one Loki had left from his childhood collection. It was the last one he ever got from his dad. The last time things were ‘normal’ for his family.

Loki lent over and placed it gently on his bedside table, stood up on the nightstand. It was chipped and dirty with age but still filled Loki’s heart with some sort of longing when he looked at it.

He refused to acknowledge the watery in his eyes and he pulled the next item from the box.

///

“I’m not doing this because I don’t love you - I’m doing this because I have to love myself,” five year old David struggled to make sense of his mothers words.

She took his little hands in hers as he lay under his bed, his mind fogged in confusion from sleep, having been shaken awake by his mum at three in the morning.

“Mummy?” He mumbled, allowing her to pull him back out from under his bed, into the room. His mum picked him up and set him so he was sat on top of the mattress.

She crouched in front of him and David rubbed his eyes tiredly.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I have to do this,” she told him, her eyes filled with worry and apology.

“Are you going on an adventure?” David wondered if the bruises on his mothers face hurt when she smiled at him then.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I’m going on an adventure,” she agreed, squeezing his hands.

“Can I come with you? I’m really good on adventures - Danny always lets me be his second in command,” David’s mothers lips pressed to his forehead.

“You’re always going to be my first in command,” his mum whispered. “But this is an adventure I have to go on alone. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Are you coming back?”

“Probably not,” her voice was no more than a croak and David felt tears fill his eyes.

“Don’t be sad, Mummy!” He begged when he saw her cry.

“I’m just going to miss my little man,” she whispered, bringing her son in for a tight hug. “But it’ll be better with me gone - Daddy will be less mad all the time,” she promised him.

“What if I go?” David offered. “Maybe Daddy will want you around more if I go?”

“You sweet boy,” his mum sniffled into his shoulder. “You sweet, lovely boy,” she repeated, shaking her head. “Your daddy and me both love you and neither of us want you to go anywhere, okay?”

“I don’t want you to go,” he pleaded.

“I have to,” his mum released him and her right hand went to her ring finger on her left hand.

She twisted on her engagement ring, prising it off of her hand and pressing it into his small one.

“I have to do something for me.”

///

That was the last time that Loki had seen his mother.

Now the engagement ring hung from a chain. It was a little rusted but out of all the items in his shoebox of memories it was in the best condition.

After he had been taken to the boys home, Loki had put the ring on a chain to hang around his neck for fear of it being stolen otherwise. It was the one thing that he couldn’t imaging loosing. The one thing he had never even considered trading whilst her was there.

He hadn’t worn it since coming to university, so desperate to leave his whole past behind but now, in the safety of his home, in the knowledge that he had two people who wouldn’t leave him, he slipped the chain back around his neck.

The ring came to rest next to the thudding of his heart.

///

David waited at least an extra hour before coming out of hiding.

He waited for so long after the commotion and the gun shot before he even considered leaving his safe cave that his legs were beyond numb. He toppled straight back down to the ground when he tried to stand up.

He hadn’t realised he was shaking until he reached his hands out in front of him to try and support himself.

David closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

He crawled towards the door to his bedroom and pushed it open.

He hadn’t known what was going on when his dad had burst into his room, his eyes wide with fear as he pushed David into his wardrobe, piling shirts and jumpers on top of him in an effort to hide him. He had never heard his father so scared as when he implored his son to stay quiet and not come out unless he was sure it was safe.

It was the first time in a while that David had been told that he was loved.

It was also the first time ever that David saw his father cry.

That was how he knew that it was serious, whatever was going on. David’s seven year old mind was so fixed on his fathers tears that he couldn’t even think of making a noise.

His father was in the living room.

Him and David were still there fifteen minutes later when the emergency services came, answering David’s phone call faster than normal when they realised how young the child was on the other end.

David was sat cross legged by his fathers dead body, sobbing.

///

The police had allowed Loki to keep the shirt.

They caught the men who had broken in only a few days after Loki had called the police and, after they had been properly identified and the legal process had been seen through, they had given Loki his fathers shirt.

Loki wasn’t sure why he had wanted to keep it. Perhaps because he had something to remember his mother by and he wanted something to remind him of his father - and of the sacrifice his father had made to keep Loki safe.

If he hadn’t gone and shut Loki into his wardrobe then he could have escaped with his life.

Now, Loki unfolded the shirt out of the shoebox and held it up. Blood stained it and it was almost completely shredded from the bullet wounds that had riddled his fathers body.

That had been the day he became set on becoming a detective.

///

David hated his grandparents house.

He hated the smell of cabbage that permeated the air around him.

He wanted his mum.

When the police had told him that they were going to track down a guardian for him that was who he had assumed they meant. He thought the long two years of separation from his mother would be over and that they would be reunited again.

David couldn’t hide his disappointment when it was his grandparents that turned up at the station to pick him up.

He wondered if, perhaps, his mum would be at their house. His grandparents were on his mums side so when she had disappeared that night he had assumed that was where she had gone to.

But his grandparents refused to tell him anything about his mother.

If they knew where she was, they weren’t giving any hints.

His granny ran a bath for him when they got to his grandparents house.

“Home sweet home,” his granny had declared.

There was nothing sweet or homely about it. He wanted his real home.

David sat in the bath water, thinking of the events of the day.

Was this going to be his life now? Living with his grandparents? Surrounded by the scent of cabbage and bad memories?

He had cried when he first got to his grandparents house and found that his mother was nowhere in sight. His Granddad had told him that it was better than living in a boys home.

David climbed out of the bath and wrapped himself in the towel he had left out for himself and left the bathroom to the room that he had been told would be his for the foreseeable future.

His tears began again when he saw the soft teddy bear that had been left on his bed for him by his grandparents.

Didn’t they know that nothing could be fixed anymore with a teddy?

///

The bears fur was matted and one of its eyes had fallen out at some point during his time at the boys home in Conyers but Loki didn’t care.

His grandparents had been good guardians and eventually he had gotten used to the smell of cabbage and even now, six years after he had left that place behind, it comforted him in a strange way.

But he still fucking hated cabbage.

His Granny had died first. She had a heart attack when Loki was ten and it had broken his Granddad. Loki had had to start looking after himself much more - he did the cooking and the cleaning and made sure that his Granddad got to his doctors appointments.

Loki wasn’t ashamed to admit that most of the care he took of his Granddad was for purely selfish reasons. He knew that if his Granddad was to die then he would be put in the local boys home.

Everyone had heard horror stories about what it was like there and there was no way that Loki would be taken there without a fight.

But after his Granddad was diagnosed with terminal cancer when Loki was eleven he became resigned to his fate. About a month before his Granddad died, he was told the truth about his mother.

She had returned briefly to live with his grandparents, as Loki had suspected had happened but had swiftly disappeared again only to be found a few months later dead in a hotel room.

Loki was twelve when his Granddad lost his battle.

///

“You want the book?” The boy’s face was morphed into confusion. His eyes glanced down at the tattered classic in his hands before raising back up to meet Loki’s eyes.

“Yeah.”

Loki’s jaw was clenched and his eyes were cold and unwavering as he looked at the new kid who had entered into the boys home only a few weeks ago.

“You want the book?” The kid repeated incredulously.

“Need me to fucking write it down for you?”

“No - no, sorry I just...” the younger boy collected himself, trying to hide his fear and Loki almost felt bad for a moment until he remembered what his first few weeks had been like at the boys home. “What’ll you give me?”

Loki was almost proud of the kid and he allowed a slight smirk to grace his face and he nodded at the boy.

“What’dya want?”

“Your leather jacket,” he declared and Loki scoffed.

“Piss off,” he rolled his eyes. “You know it’s not worth that,” the boy visibly deflated and Loki sighed, taking pity on him. “You get my desert tonight - and I’ll tell Anthony to lay off,” he offered, knowing that Anthony had been giving the new boy shit ever since he had arrived.

He looked up hopefully and held out the book. Loki took it from him, nodding.

“If he bothers you again, let me know,” Loki told him before turning away and stalking out of the room.

He knew that most of the other boys in the home were scared of him and the ones who weren’t were those who had been around for as long as he had.

He had been at the boys home for four years. And what was devastating was the knowledge that he would be there for the remaining two years until he turned eighteen and could leave for university and then, hopefully, the police force.

When he had saw the new boy with his book Loki had known he would have traded almost anything to have it. Few people in the home owned anything other than a couple of changes of clothes and their school books. Anything they did own would be traded for something else - extra desert or a particular clothing item usually.

Loki had lost all of his dinosaur collection within the first week of his arrival at the boys home for a pair of shoes after his had been stolen. Well, all of his collection other than the final addition: the purple dinosaur.

Great Expectations was his parents favourite book. When he was much younger, before everything went pear shaped in their relationship, his parents would tell him how it was that classic which brought them together - they had both wanted a copy of it and had gone into a bookstore at the same time and reached for it.

They had ended up reading it together after his father had asked his mother out on a date and that was the start of their relationship.

Loki himself had never actually read it but had always wanted to - but he had no money with which to buy himself a copy after he had been taken into the boys home and had never had the chance to read it.

To have a copy of it in his hands now, nine years after he had last seen either of his parents, it felt so much that, in holding Pip’s story, he was also holding that of his parents.

///

Loki didn’t realise he was crying until his tears began to drop onto the well-loved book.

He wiped it away hastily, worried about it harming the pages that he too had grown to love but he didn’t stop himself from crying.

For what felt like the first time the full weight of what he had been through hit him. It was talking to his roommates about how he had wound up in the boys home that had sparked his need to dive into his little shoebox of memories.

Loki wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to go into details about his past. What his father had been like towards his mother and what his mother could sometimes be like towards him. The details of his fathers death. The facts he had dug up on his mothers suicide when he turned eighteen and was able to find such information out.

The full truth of his life at the boys home weighed heavy on his mind and he knew it would scar him forever.

“Hey, David,” Loki looked up towards the doorframe. David and Jake were looking at him with eyes filled with concern. “Are you okay?” Jake asked.

Loki dropped his eyes down at the book, the teddy, the shirt, he felt the ring lying on his chest, and finally he looked at the little purple dinosaur.

Loki looked back to his roommates, a watery smile on his face and he nodded, the weight lifting from him.

“Yeah... yeah, I am.”

#courts writings #Jake Gyllenhaal Cinematic Universe #JGCU #Jake College Multiverse #Jake Gyllenverse #JGCU Write Fest #jake gyllenhaal #detective loki #detective loki fanfiction #detective loki imagine #detective loki fic #detective loki's JGCU backstory #jake gyllenhaal fanfiction #jake gyllenhaal imagine

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snokoms · 4 years

Text

Under the Sea part 7

so, I have a name for this OC. but I don't like the name. If you know any good and/or werid names, you would be a great help.

enjoy!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21310579/chapters/51853393

While living in the cave Stiles finally has time to think. Stiles and his thoughts were never a good combination. He tries to avoid it as much as possible. Unfortunately, there is not much to distract him after his first search of the cave.

So, he thinks. He thinks about the pack and comes to the not-so-surprising realisation that he might be alone in this. Yeah, it might not be his first kidnapping, nor is it the first time he had to get himself out of the situation. It is, however, the first time in a different body.

Would they even recognise him?

He starts thinking back to the beginning of freshman year. Scott and him had been slowly drifting apart since they changed schools. The crooked jaw boy having less and less time for him, blowing him off and spending more time with others. Saying he had to train for lacrosse if he was going to make it on the team that year.

Maybe that was why he had taken his friend out to the woods that day. To spend one last time together before school started again. Like a last hooray. Of course, it had to blow up in his own face when Scott went and got bitten by a werewolf.

Crazy right?!

Yeah, not so much apparently.

So, he had helped the boy with his control. Watched him make first line and go for pizza with the team after plays (never mind that he was on the team as well, not like he was invited or wanted. Who could want him?).

Watched him trying to woo the hunter girl, like it could end as anything other than complete and utter disaster.

And when they did get to spend time together, that was all his best friend talked about. Her perfect hair and beautiful eyes and did you know that Allison-. You get the gist.

Maybe that is why he got so obsessed by the Hales (yes obsessed, he admits. Take that.) Throwing himself in the world of nightmares headfirst to distract himself and fill the lonely days and lonelier nights.

The shaky ground his dad and he had reached years after his mother’s dead slowly disappearing with every lie, every time he did not came home, every crime scene he showed up at. All the bruises that barely left his body before others already covered them. All the excuses that they both knew were not true. Every time he avoided eye contact because he was afraid of the look in his dad eyes.

After the nogitsune, after finding out what it did, what he did. After finding out about the nightmares hiding in the shadows around the corner. The empty bottles had started showing up again. Making him avoid his dad out of fear of the man becoming like just after his mother finally was laid to rest.

Laying between the seaweeds and anemone he starts thinking about the pack. His mind immediately going to the time he held Derek up in the pool for four hours. Waiting for Scott to show up and chase away the kanima, he never thought he would be able to feel his legs again afterwards. Happy when Derek was finally able to drive him home. Or the time grandpa psycho had kidnapped him and thrown him in the basement. Only to find Erica and Boyd hanging from the opposite wall, (he hoped they were well, wherever they had run to after they were freed from the alpha pack) chained with electricity. He knew Allison knew. Had seen her there. Had felt her slice the dagger on his legsarmsfeetbreakhisfingers-

Breath Stiles. Breath, in, hold, out, hold. Again. After a while he calmed down again and let his mind wander to more recent events.

After the nogitsune the pack had started to drift even farther away. He could see the looks, the distrust and hate. He knew they blamed him for Allison’s dead. Aiden’s dead. The bomb at the police station, making his dad work even more. The arrow in Finstock’s leg. It was all his fault. Everything was his fault.

He knew, okay?

He knew he let it in.

He should have been stronger.

Closed the door like Scott and Allison did.

Fought harder.

Why was he too weak to close that damned door? His brother would not even look at him anymore. Lydia was disgusted with him, he had long ago abandoned his ten year plan to woo her (right around the time a certain sourwolf moved back to town). Isaac had left with Chris, running from the memories of the girl they loved.

Everyone at school avoided him (even if they were all too happy with his warnings), still afraid of him. Of what he became. Of what he is. Because that was the biggest joke, wasn’t it?

The nogitsune did not create anything. It just used what was already there. Corrupted his spark, used his knowledge. Used everything he had read online on days he could not sleep. Used everything he had learned from his observations.

It had shown him what is was like to kill.

To hit.

To hurt.

To make those that hurt him know what it was like to be beaten. Ignored. Tortured. Used. Thrown away like a rag toy.

Yes, nogitsunes lived on chaos and pain. But it could see what his host had seen. Just like the host could see what the parasite had seen.

It had used everything that made Stiles Stiles.

And in turn he had learned how to protect himself. How to escape chains. What the quickest way was to silence someone. What the most hurtful way was. How to move swift and quit. How to hunt the hunters who hunted him.

The new puppies in the pack avoided him.

He did not know if it was because someone told them to, or because of him. He tried to avoid thinking of the former option.

Malia had left.

Derek had left.

Everyone left him.

Maybe he had deserved this. Maybe all he was good for were territory disputes, information gathering, kidnappings, or extra additions to rare species.

Did not mean he wanted it.

He wanted out. He was going to leave the hell hole called Beacon Hills. Find a new place. It was why he had graduated a year earlier. Only applying to schools on the east coast. Packing his bare essentials, transferring his mother’s funds to another, untraceable account. Using what Danny had taught him after a lot of bribing. Using what Void had taught him during his possession. He had even left his laptop and mobile in the sheriff’s house, making it seem as if he was still in Beacon Hills.

If no one notices he is kidnapped for days. Then surely no one will notice, or hell forbid miss him, if he leaves town.

----

Two days later their careful routine is broken again when a trilling goes through the rocks, followed by an angry screech in the distance.

The boy looks up from his fish, they started eating together after that first time. In a flash he is by the entrance moving something. A curtain of seaweed appears. With quick and swift movements, he starts herding Stiles towards the smaller cave.

This is the closest they had been together since he woke up.

The screeching sounds again. Closer this time.

The werecreature starts physically pushing him towards the opening, all the while looking back. Afraid of who is behind the noise. Taking his chances, he swims inward (he’s gotten a lot better in using his tail, itching for the opportunity to use it outside the cave).

Fishboy follows and starts moving away more seaweed near the ceiling of the cave on the left side, revealing an even smaller entrance, motioning for Stiles to enter. With one look behind he quickly does so. Whatever is behind the noise. It’s close. Very close. The sweetwatercreature follows and Stiles quickly begins to swim. Through narrow tunnels and sometimes even smaller corridors they go from one cave to the next. Being pushed to his max by the hunter they left behind.

It feels like hours, maybe more, and he is exhausted when they finally pause. They’re in a slightly bigger cavern and can freely move around each other.

“sssstttaaaaa”

“ssssttaaaiiiii”

“staaaaaghhiiii”

Was that, did it just, could he….

“heerrrhhreeeiii”

Yup, he just sort of understood seahissing.

Perplexed he looks at the boy. It looks back and then quickly swims away.

Exhausted he decides to stay there for a while. Scrubbing his scales free of dirt. They have grown in his time underwater. The scales are now covering part of his torso. Getting thinner higher up and thicker again on his neck around his gills.

He is just about finished when he hears something coming his way. Quickly hiding in one of the pathways he sees the boy returning. It looks almost sad when it notices Stiles isn’t there. Carefully laying down the seaweeds he found.

He is almost gone when Stiles pokes his head out of his tunnel. Softly scraping the wall. When it looks back and sees him it starts geckering and hissing so fast he can barely hear when one word stops and the next starts.

Coming out of the tunnel and swimming towards the seaweed he starts eating. All the while paying attention to the sounds he hears. Trying to make sense of it.

Why did it look so sad when he thought Stiles was gone?

Why did it try to save him from the terrifying noise?

That’s when he notices how young the boy really is, how small. The muscles on its arm aren’t defined enough to carry another person. Without thought he grabs one and examines it. Lays it against his arm. Pokes at the little bit of muscle. Looks at every side, when the boy only looks quietly towards him, he grabs the other arm as well.

It’s the same.

How?

How are the fingers so small?

He remembers them being bigger against his skin when he was caught. Where they only big when he was above water? But that makes no sense. He didn’t shrink so why would they. Curiously he looks towards the owner of the appendage. What if…? What if they’re not the same? Does that mean the other is still out there? Or was his kidnapper killed by the monster in the lake. Is that who they ran from?

Is it dead and this one found him, finders’ keepers? No, no he cannot hope that whatever took him is dead.

He never has such luck.

#sterek #names are stupid #and difficult #i dont like them #you shouldn't let stiles alone with his thoughts #it's not good #very bad #this oc was supposed to be mean #but now i like him #so he can't be mean #stiles stilinski #is a badass

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themysteriouslou · 5 years

Note

👀 all of them for leslie?

The Basics

1. Give their full name, and describe them or post a picture! (Height, build, hair, eye, and skin color, etc.)

Full name's Elena Leslie Grünewald! Only a handful of people refer to her with her first name though. 5′4/5′5, lean and fit. Wavy, medium-dark chestnut hair; gray eyes, light skin that gradually tans, has a scar that runs across the right side of her jaw.

2. How old are they?

28!

3. Sexuality and gender?

Heteroflexible, cisgender female.

Pre-Game

1. How did they end up at the Hope County Sheriff’s Department? How long have they worked there?

Her father told her about the job just as she graduated from the police academy. He had been a colleague of Whitehorse’s when the two were young men in the office and following his transfer he kept in contact with him, so he must have mentioned her interests in a passing conversation. As for the second question, she has been working there for a year.

2. Relationship with Pratt, Hudson, and Whitehorse?

Pratt: he was the first to welcome her to the department—it took them some weeks but they grew close to each other during that time. He teased her a lot (because he was a little shit) but they got each other's back and genuinely care about the other's well-being.

Hudson: one of the first alongside Pratt to welcome her to the county, as well as the one who gave her some insight and help on how to work at the station. It took longer to befriend her than Pratt for the simple fact Danny’s death had been a recent thing and she was still blaming herself from it, but she eventually warmed up to Leslie.

Whitehorse: She has a soft spot for Whitehorse—she knew him since she was a child and had enough good memories of him to consider working alongside him a blessing. Likely sees him as a surrogate uncle figure due to the trust he extended to her as soon as she was given the duty of a cop.

3. Do they have an education?

Yup! Bachelor’s Degree in Criminal Justice.

4. Where are they from? Did they speak a different language there?

She’s from Virginia! Aside from speaking Italian in her maternal family’s household, English has always been her main language.

5. Is there anyone outside the valley that might have come looking for them?

Her relatives and some of her friends back at home—she keeps in contact with them occasionally so I'd think they wouldn't make a big deal out of her going radio silent at first. However, they'd definitely start suspecting something's wrong if there hasn't been a call from her in months...

6. Did they have a religious background of any kind?

Quite — the Grünewalds aren’t attached to religious institutions but they’re Christian nonetheless. Leslie considers herself a believer, just more laid-back and chill about it.

Inside Hope County

1. What was going through their head when the helicopter went down and during the subsequent chase?

It was a mix of words: an increasing stream of "fucks" on loop coupled with an exasperated “are you fucking kidding me”. She was almost moving on autopilot—it was a terrifying experience for her but she knew she had to escape, she had to be fast or else, it was over.

2. Were they afraid of Joseph and Eden’s Gate? Angry?

Leaning towards afraid—she didn’t know what was going on and the only thought on her mind was to get to somewhere safe. Leslie had a few run-ins with Eden’s Gate before the attempted arrest and could understand why the locals were wary of them. Mainly, she was cautious.

3. Did they trust Dutch?

Let's put it this way: waking up cuffed to a post isn’t the best way to start trust between two people.

4. How did they feel about their team being taken by the cult, did they count them as lost, did they want them back, did they not care?

Les was worried sick—the memories from hours before started to return as she recovered, which meant she remembered trying to stop the cult from taking Joey, Staci's and Whitehorse's screams, and the Marshal’s protests as he was found by the peggies. More than anything, Leslie was determined to recover them—she was not going to leave them behind if she had anything to say about it.

5. How did they take to the idea of being part of, if not leading, the resistance?

It… didn’t dawn on her she was leading the Resistance at the beginning. She was just doing what she thought right—if she could help the people of the county, so be it. Then one day she was at the county jail, talking to several Resistance members and one of them said “you gave us hope to fight back”. It baffled her at first, but eventually she slotted right into the leader role.

6. Which companions did they recruit, and who did they travel with the most?

All of them! Nick’s a constant companion of hers, the second companion often varies depending on the region she is at.

7. Did they have time to find romance amidst the chaos? How did they do it?

It's... complicated, considering she fell in love with one of her enemies. Not even her knows how did it happen.

8. Feelings about Joseph?

Mixed. On one hand he's the man she was ordered to arrest and the accusations against him, the bad he inflicted onto the county's residents should've convinced her he should be taken down. On the other hand... Leslie can see his point. She gets what's he's trying to say and why he is doing all of this, she sees him treating her carefully and taking his time to make her understand (which in turn makes her feel more conflicted tbh). Reading the BOJ in an attempt to understand him only furthers these mixed feelings.

9. Feelings about the other Seeds?

Faith was the scariest Seed for her—she gets into your mind, her persuasion convinces you that you belong with the cult and her management of the Bliss is absolutely terrifying. Leslie feels like she was walking on thin ice around her, yet she didn't see the need to refuse to listen to her (likely because her story pulls her heartstrings and her instinctual need is to help others, even her enemies and people who wronged her).

As for John, Les can admit he doesn't put pretenses and is straightforward about his motives. He doesn't try to use pity or fear to get to her, rather he just tells her the reason he is the way he is. She appreciates honesty in people, so I think she'd be the same way with him. Snarks a lot at him through the radio, though, and probably enjoys messing with him way too much, but that's it.

Jacob... well, here's the complicated part—Leslie should fear him, shouldn't feel at ease in his presence, shouldn't feel safe when she's in his arms, yet she does. It was a matter of survival what made them grow closer and fond of each other and now they don't know how to deal with it. She wants to soothe his scars, both physically and psychologically, wants to be there for him. Wants to save him. For the most part she tried to pretend these obvious feelings weren't there, but as the war wages on, with every unplanned meeting... it's just more difficult.

10. How did they handle having to kill animals and other humans? Had they done it before?

Killing animals wasn’t hard—Les participated in past hunting trips with her male relatives and the county people before. As for killing humans… she tries to not do it when she has the chance. Killing Angels and peggies in self-defense still leaves a bad taste in her mouth though.

11. Which canon ending did they choose in-game, and would you have changed the ending at all?

She choose the Resist ending. Leslie is too stubborn to go back once she had made her choice. As for the second part of the question: boy would I have. I would have spared and arrested the Seeds. Having to kill them hurt me and made me wish we could've given them a chance at life.

Personal

Favorite weapon(s)?

Any type of rifles and explosives! Molotovs and pipes are a recurrent thing in her inventory too.

2. Stealth or firepower?

Most of the time she likes stealth. However, it’s not uncommon of her to go Rambo and punch everything on sight if she has no other choice.

3. How did they spend their time, when not fighting peggies?

Lots of time spent at Fall’s End and the 8-Bit Pizza Bar. You could also find her enjoying the regions' scenery, drawing, fishing or doing tasks for the locals—basically she spent her time on things that relaxed her or took her mind off the war.

4. Where did they live during the events of the game?

Les wandered A LOT. Her actual house is at the border of the Whitetail Mountains and Holland Valley region, but she has had few opportunities to go there after the Reaping. After, she mostly uses her secret log cabin and takes naps in abandoned cars and houses/bunkers.

5. Any other facts you want to share about your Deputy!

- can tie a cherry stem with her tongue.

- used to practice baseball when she was younger.

- doesn't know how to ice-skate for the life of her —her face practically belongs to the floor if someone manages to convince her to try it.

- will laugh at the dumbest of jokes.

- prefers calling to texting people but know she's a keysmasher.

#deputy leslie #sorry it took me too long to answer!#{ tangled ramblings of hope county }#foofygoldfish

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johannesviii · 6 years

Text

Hope

Some highlights of the last EDA I’ve read (Hope).

I took these screens while reading, along with my reactions. As usual, this is full of spoilers.

This suffers basically from the same kind of problems that Parallel 59 or The Banquo Legacy had: it takes forever to advance its plot, most of the interesting things happen in the last third or fourth of the book, and most of the plot and the characters are a bit too generic. The “surprise” villain isn’t surprising at all. Eight, apart from the multiple references to his lost heart, is dangerously close to “generic Doctor” even if he has a few typically Eight moments, and Fitz is written pretty much like he was written before the whole Interference business. There’s even some continuity errors (at some point it’s said that Dave has been dead for a few months, even though an entire year has passed just in Henrietta Street, and at least several months in other books, like Year of the Intelligent Tigers).

Anji, on the contrary, is one of the highlights of the book ; she makes very debatable choices, which have actual consequences, even if some plot points are solved a bit too easily in the end. I also liked that place and its inhabitants, even though I wish the author let us spend more time with them and less time with the villain.

So, yeah, not very well written, mostly bland and generic, but not boring. 5/10

Hey, a Dave flashback!

...................still too soon.

What’s with these books’ obsession with Tarot, seriously?

“Bread-loading skills“

♫ All my friends are dead ♫ push me to the edge ♫

I’m having Dark Eyes flashbacks, now. Eight really likes to go to the end of the universe, doesn’t he?

Fitz no

Oh fuck

Run. Away.

Just another day in the life of Team TARDIS

Now THIS is unusual

You know, the usual kind of distraction

IT’S A CYBERPUNK CULT

Ooooh I like this place.

And this is interesting too, even if it’s a bit cliché in scifi.

Yeah, Eight, going to the end of the universe is a bad habit of yours

I love this place and I love you, you idiots

I wish the inhabitants were nicer to each other, though.

Friendly reminder, I love this team

Haha the most valuable item in his pocket is an old and disgusting apple core. This is cool.

This is SO cool.

Okay, I laughed.

“Smiled with affection“

Oh.

WAIT FOR IT.

sdfghjkjhgfdsdfghjkfghj FITZ

Too many distractions for Eight to handle

DON’T HURT MY TRASH SON

There’s too many distractions, so he's dealing with them one at a time, haha.

“Some slight bruising” Eight you liar

YOU DON’T SAY

That sounds like a bad deal.

Turns out there’s a lot of things at the end of the universe.

Interesting. A dream about destroying Gallifrey, clearly.

Fitz if you can’t find a good rhyme for a word, change the fucking word.

Also I’m pretty sure this idiot ghostwrote a good chunk of Space Police Defenders of the Crown by Edguy. Which, in turn, reminds me I should make a post about the highlights of that album’s booklet, because:

On one hand staying indoors sounds like a good plan. On the other hand, I’m pretty sure Silver is a villain in the making.

A baby tree! :D

Eight in a nutshell

Don’t join the Cyberpunk cult, this is a bad idea

I have sudden and unexpected Cybersix flashbacks

THE MASTER

He’s probably not but actually I’d prefer it if that was him cause Silver’s quite bland, all things considered.

Okay, Silver is a cyborg. Yay. 83 pages out of 200 and almost nothing happened.

Okay all right now please tell a story

True.

Okay! Interesting! But can something happen how? Please? Anything?

FINALLY WE’RE GETTING SOMEWHERE AFTER 90 PAGES

Like this book has done so far

Well he isn’t wrong.

ANJI THIS IS A BAD IDEA

I laughed.

I can’t fault his logic

OUCH. OUCH, OUCH.

Classic unexpectedly scary Eight.

NO NO NO NO BAD IDEA NO NO STAY TOGETHER

Well this is disappointing.

I laughed but I’m not entirely sure why.

GET UP DOCTOR GET UP DOCTOR GET UP

So he can’t metabolise drugs anymore. Interesting.

Friendly reminder that Eight is still a Nightmare Fuel Station Attendant and has been like that since pretty much the beginning of the books

Ohhh, okay. So there’s humans under the sea in a bunker, and they think the humans from the surface are mutants. A scifi cliché, but still a good idea.

EVEN EIGHT THINKS IT’S A CLICHÉ SFGHJHGFDSDFGHJ

WELL IT’S NO AN EDA UNTIL SOMEONE GETS VIVISECTED

Okay okay I now this is a long screen, but TLDR, Fitz has been an adept of the cyberpunk cult for like 3 minutes and he has already created a schism in their religion and basically destroyed it

Thank you Anji for the summary

Well that’s what happens when assholes try to keep any “race” ““pure”“ isn’t it

Also that’s disappointing too.

SAVE HIM

This is good.

Silver getting his hands on all the scientific stuff in the bunker sounds bad.

He’s learned a thing or two from the Tigers :D

OKAY I LAUGHED LIKE AN IDIOT

Nice try, though.

Well, that’s convenient.

But still, phew.

Also this isn’t okay.

Please stop reminding me of better books.

Why am I getting slightly emotional about this

Well, that was quick.

It is, but I’m still quite happy for them.

THERE’S 60 PAGES LEFT, YOU LIAR.

F█CKING SAME

Anji no. I told you that was a bad idea.

You’re just being a baby, Silver.

Honestly if that book wasn’t from 2002 I’d say that’s a great parody of the Alt Right and its usual bullshit.

ANJI THIS IS STILL A VERY BAD IDEA AND YOU CAN STILL CHANGE YOUR MIND ABOUT THIS

This book’s world is like Fury Road but, like, on water instead of sand.

Where have I heard this before.

Oh, right, okay.

YEAH, YOU THINK

Have I mentioned that this was a bad, bad, BAD idea

F█cking knew it.

F█cking knew he was a villain too, it was way too obvious.

This is Clara’s betrayal at the end of series 8 all over again, isn’t it.

Anji has a point.

Probably not.

sdfghjhgtfrdesfghjksdfghjzert

To be fair, that would probably have happened with human guards too.

What wait no bad idea, Doctor come back here this instant

That’s wayyyyyyyy too easy.

Oh, well... Bye bye New Dave!

This way, way, WAY, WAY too convenient.

This IS Clara and Danny Pink all over again. That would have been more powerful earlier in the books, I think, closer to Dave’s death, but it’s still pretty good.

Honestly, Anji is the best character in this book.

Heavy-handed, but still good.

IT’S NOT AN EDA UNLESS EIGHT BREAKS SOME OF HIS BONES

GO ANJI GO ANJI GO ANJI

SHE KNOCKED IT OUT OF THE PARK, TEN OUT OF F█CKING TEN

Slow down for a minute, you idiot

It must be pretty weird to have only one heart left

Okay, so, in the end, New Dave isn’t dead, which defies my initial expectations, and this is a lot more interesting.

This is WAY better than I expected. Kudos.

Well, too late for that!

There’s something in my f█cking eye.

Also here’s a bit of the “About the author” part, and let’s just say this is all very relatable.

#Hope #Eighth Doctor Adventures #Eighth Doctor #Anji Kapoor #Fitz Kreiner #Doctor Who #EDAs #long post #an EDA liveblog full of useless comments #capslock #gif

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yasib25 · 6 years

Text

She Used to be Mine

Neither Drew nor Jason

Too long Sam has been defined by the men in her life, for too long has her destiny been decided by the men she loves, NO MORE!!!

She keeps saying she wants to find herself PLEASE, go do that! Matter of fact, I don't think finding herself is the problem, I think holding onto that self AFTER she's fallen for someone? THAT, is her problem right there! I think we've seen the real Sam all of 2 times since she first graced our screens back in 2003. Once after she got pregnant with baby Lila, we watched her discover how much she loved being pregnant and how much she was looking forward to being a mom. Before Port Charles, Sam was defined by One Cody McCall (adoptive father), who was a con Artiste and who taught her everything she knew. She was a broken woman who had a hard time trusting anyone. But Jason restored her faith in men, in people on a whole and as much as I'm team Drew right now I have to give him props for that. Then she fell for Jason and her life quickly became about Jason, her decisions were based on how it would fit with Jason's life and his Job, sometimes that line of thinking extended to Sonny. Suddenly it was her Job to lie under oath and take evidence from police station. Even her decision to be with Lucky was based on getting a reaction out of Jason. I liked Lucky by the way, if he could've really loved Sam the way she deserved I would have totally been on board. From back then I realized that Sam was the common denominator in my Gh ships (well ships involving her.) Loved Jasam because of Sam, loved Lusam because of Sam. Sure there were some that I couldn't get on board with regardless of the fact that Sam was one half of the ship, like Sam with Silas or Patrick. With Patrick I just couldn't get over Patrina as for Silas I REALLY couldn't see Sam with him. But anyway let's get back on track, Sam Lived for Jason.

Fastforward a couple a years, Jason is presumed dead and we FINALLY see Sam be herself again. She was a great mom to Danny and she was Present! She was social, participating in the nurses ball first, she showed of her dancing skills with Anton and the following year she joined the haunted starlets. Then Drew came, he was mistaken for Jason and suddenly the sun fell out of orbit and instead of the earth orbiting the sun it was the other way around. Crappy metaphor I know but everything fell outta whack and she started obsessing over his safety. Well... first she obsessed over getting him back, then she obsessed over his memory, THEN she obsessed over his safety! Sam is a PI, that was her thing and had nothing to do with Jason and when she met Drew she used those Skills to help him figure out who he was. She and Drew got together and she was suddenly sitting behind a desk as one half of a media mogul power couple. I get that based on the memories Drew inherited from Jason and Drew being Drew he would want to make a better life for his family. But I don't think it mattered to Drew what that something was, just as long as it wasn't a legacy of mob wars and dead bodies, I think Drew would have been happy. But she quickly conformed to whatever she thought would make him happy. Especially seeing as how she was obsessing over his safety at the time.

Now she says she needs to find herself and every time she turns around she's tripping over Jason and her latest obsession is the flash drive with Drew's memories. Sam confessed her love and then walked away from both these brothers, said she needed to find herself again, so she was taking the kids and going away for a while. Few days later the kids were coming back to Port Charles with her mother while she and Jason ran off to go save Spinelli (just like old times huh?) And NOW, now she's soliciting Jason's help to commit a crime to help Drew, Jason? Help Drew?

Peter or Heinrick or whatever his name is, made the same offer to Drew an he passed because Drew wasn't about to break the law especially for Peter. And it isn't lost on me that she still loves Drew enough to not want to see him hurt so much so that she went to Jason, his arch Nemesis for help. Any scenario where Jason sees Sam's love for Drew is quite fine with me but I just want Sam to focus on herself. Drew's a grown man who knows the risks he's taking and have accepted them and Jason was a criminal long before she came to town I'm sure both men can survive without her input. I wanna see Sam focus on her kids and being the best mother she can be, this is a critical time for Scout, lot of firsts. I wanna be bias and say be all about Drew but no matter who she's ends up with I'm always gonna love Sam so I just want to see her take the time to rediscover herself and stay true to said self no matter who she ends up with.

#gh #sam cain #drew cain #jason morgan #dream #jasam

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Ranking The Bill’s Christmas Specials From Best to the One Where Reg Plays the Back End of a Panto Cow

https://ift.tt/3anspff

Christmas is where you find it. Sometimes you find it in Canley Borough Operational Unit Command, Sun Hill. It’s a rough joint where the hours are long and life is short. It’s where the cops play hardball, the dames play hard to get, and the dame-cops do both, in sensible shoes. (That’s right, some of the cops are dames – though admittedly, not really until the 1990s, and they rarely make it past Inspector.)

Over its 27-year history, British police procedural The Bill aired 2,425 episodes, just five of which were Christmas specials. They represent 0.0020% of the total output, and 100% of the episodes where Reg Hollis plays the back end of a pantomime cow. That makes each one a rare truffle for this little piggy to sniff out and stack in order of greatness. Let’s get sniffing.

5. Twanky (1997)

The plot: PC Polly Page is having a mare directing the annual Sun Hill Christmas panto: Aladdin, from a script by Tosh. The scenery keeps falling down. Widow Twanky loses his voice. Reg Hollis gets his head stuck in a cow. The Princess Lychee (it was the nineties) costume is accidentally swapped for a box of shoplifted fetish-wear that’s exhibit A in an ongoing trial. Then the venue cancels at the last minute and a crazed ex-con stalks the production, takes a hostage, and attempts to cosh the Assistant Detective Inspector to stop him taking the witness stand. Time until police work: 4 minutes 43 seconds. There’s a call-out to a bar fight involving a carving knife and 107 stitches. Who gets nicked? Three kids who steal a trolleyful of frozen turkeys. A hostage-taking pantomime-cosher. And DC Rod Skase, who gets nicked and sexually assaulted by a pair of coppers from a rival station who honk his Widow Twanky balloon boobs. Best line: “You tell Deakin, there’s no way Jason’s going down. I’ll ‘av him.” High points: Reg saving the day with a new venue and the hostage-taker getting taken down by the might of Sun Hill live on stage, to the delight of the audience, who scream like it’s the Beatles at Shea Stadium. Low points: The Gary Glitter song and dance routine (hindsight). Why it’s in fifth place: It’s the only one of The Bill Christmas specials that makes you watch what feels like an entire pantomime, including songs and an overlong cow-based dance routine. Nobody should have to go through that at Christmas.

4. The Night Before/The Morning After (2000)

The plot: The Sun Hill uniforms are planning a Christmas bash at their local, but CID’s nose is out of joint about not getting an invite, so they nick the landlord’s son for possession (an early role for Matt from aptly named boy-band Busted) and get everyone barred. Reg finds a club as a stand-in party venue but they all get into a mass punch-up in the queue. Married PC Dave Quinnan rescues PC Polly Page from the melee, and overcome by lust, they embark on an affair, feeling each other up in the meat wagon and getting entangled underneath an orange duvet. Meanwhile, two department store security guards commit aggravated robbery and pin it on a small-time Glaswegian shoplifter, who tries to appeal to Duncan’s Scottish camaraderie by spinning him a pack of festive lies. Time until police work: 00:47. Straight in. Two uniforms go to pick up a department store shoplifter who makes a run for it through soft furnishings but comes a cropper by the vacuum cleaner display. Who gets nicked? The Scottish shoplifter, Matt from Busted, and eventually, the two security guards. Best line: “I got him in the grotto” “Sounds painful” High point: Learning that Reg’s middle name is Percival Low point: A surprisingly long C-plot about Derek and Jack needing a wee. Why it’s in fourth place: A complete absence of Christmas magic. It might be set during the festivities, but this dour two-parter’s adultery plot and EastEnders-style domestic drama feels not the faintest bit Christmassy. It’s a lot of moping around in dressing gowns, grumpy bickering and lonely heartache, more kitchen sink than Frank Capra.

3. When The Snow Lay Round About (1999)

The plot: A bottle episode! The Sun Hill crew is snowed in on a mostly silent night down at the nick. Having been cruelly mocked for the quality of his Christmas tree, Reg goes out into the snow, whereupon he intercepts a rogue snowball-thrower setting off the local burglar alarms. A Christmas orphan arrives in the form of Glen, whose foster family refuse to come and collect him because he keeps running away and is generally a bit of a knob. Glen’s dad is doing five in the Scrubs, so Glen keeps robbing the staplers and calling everyone filthy framing pigs. A comedy Russian barbershop quartet show up when their minibus is stolen, and they all get the major horn for Sgt. June Ackland, who loves it. Tony brings in a drunk elf, who promises to grant him a Christmas wish if he can go free. Tony wishes for mince pies, and then magically a boxful is delivered. Danny the Elf makes the Serg’s Christmas wish come true by unearthing Glen’s grandad to come and pick him up. Time until police work: 5:04 Tony radios in a drunk and disorderly elderly man found singing Jingle Bells and trying to climb a lamppost on Fenton Street, who calls himself Danny the Elf.

UK Christmas TV 2020: Your Guide to This Year’s Festive Specials

By Louisa Mellor

Doctor Who: The Weird Anomaly of the 1965 ‘Christmas Special’

By Andrew Blair

Who gets nicked? Danny the Elf and Reg’s phantom snowball-flinger. The Russian minibus thief goes free because he brings the bus back, makes up with his barbershop quartet and they all have a sing-song. Best line: Glen’s heartbreaking “Do they have Christmas in prison?” High point: Danny telling Serg he was the one who’d granted his unexpressed Christmas wish for Glen to find his beloved granddad, then disappearing to the sound of sleigh bells as the theme music kicks in. Low point: The Borat-alike Russians. “We must tour UK for orphans charity!” Must you? Why it’s in third place: It’s very silly but really Christmassy. It snows! There’s a tree! Reg has an action scene (off-screen, but still). It has a happy ending, and the storyline about Gary the foster child ends up being genuinely moving. Comedy Russians aside, it’s a very respectable hour of festive TV.

2. Santa’s Little Helper (2008)

The plot: A spate of burglaries is traced back to a market stall Santa, who robs people’s houses during the one-hour wait for their family’s grotto photo. It turns out that Santa’s on probation, and clean, but his daughter Lisa and her boyfriend were doing the robberies to pay off his pre-prison debts to a wrong’un. Sun Hill’s finest conduct an impressive sting operation, then keep going up the chain until the investigation leads them all the way to a notorious organised criminal gang leader. Time until police work: 0:42. Two uniforms respond to a 999 call about an unconscious elderly man at a break-in. No messing. Who gets nicked? Lisa. Lisa’s boyfriend. Lisa’s dad. The loan shark and thug who was terrorising Lisa. Best line: “Thieving Santa, they’ll be telling me the Tooth Fairy’s a crack dealer next.” High point: When they’re letting Father Christmas out of custody and give him back his beard out of an evidence bag. Low point: All the stick DC Stuart Turner gets for owning a Westlife CD and keeping his flat tidy. Masculinity is a spectrum, officers. Broaden your minds. Why it’s in second place: It’s not only quite a touching story about a family trying to stay together at Christmas (albeit through breaking and entering and a bit of ABH), it also a well-plotted, satisfying series of revelations that kick-start an exciting, twisty-turny multi-episode plot about DC Stevie Moss’s undercover work that’s more or less a bonus series of Line of Duty. We’re talking high-stakes criminal gangs, guns and double-crossing.

1. Christmas Star (1998)

The plot: Tony is organising the works Christmas do, and promising the world on a £15-a-head budget. (The world: music, crisps, nuts, some grub, champagne, lap dances for the men and a Father Christmas stripper for the women.) Trouble is, he’s done a hooky no-VAT deal for cheap booze with the Cash and Carry, which gets raided by the Fraud Squad, so has to pay full whack out of his own pocket at the offy instead. A BMW driver has done a hit and run, leaving a schoolgirl Arsenal obsessive in a coma. Suspecting the owner is lying about his car having been stolen, P.C. Santini does some proper coppering, finds out the owner’s wife was driving, and nicks them both. On top of that, he manages to get the victim a hospital visit from Arsenal’s Emmanuel Petit. A Christmas miracle! Time until police work: 2:06 All units are called to the high street because of the hit and run. Who gets nicked? The BMW driver and his wife. Best line: “Tony’s had a bit of an annus horribilis” “And quite a rough year.” High point: Eddie delivering on his footballer promise to the victim, but being classy enough to keep it to himself. What a mensch. Low point: The BMW owner’s cliched beatnik stylings, man. Why it’s in first place: It’s a gripping, well-paced hour, with a satisfying ending, and a moral about not promising what you can’t deliver. It’s got a guest star in the form of 1990s football sensation Emmanuel Petit, and a hero in the form of P.C. Eddie Santini. Also, being set in 1998, these days it’s a lovely nostalgic watch. Someone gets a fiver out of a Midland Bank cash point! Someone else pays their share of the drinks kitty by cheque! All the women’s eyebrows are plucked thinner than an Elizabethan royal. Truly, a hallowed age.

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

Merry Christmas to all! (But mostly to P.C. Reg Hollis).

The post Ranking The Bill’s Christmas Specials From Best to the One Where Reg Plays the Back End of a Panto Cow appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3aknXhn

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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