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underground-secret · 8 months

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The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x F! reader

Description: The boys and reader come to the aid of Sam's old college buddy after he is accused of a murder he swears he didn't commit. They discover a shapeshifter is adopting the likenesses of others and murdering people.

Warnings: cannon violence, not my GIF, shapeshifters, teasing, tension 🤭, choking, kidnapping, mentions and usage of guns, being tied up, murder

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose, @ada--44

Word Count: roughly 8,000

(Not my GIF but we can still appreciate it)

Skin

(Master list, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter)

The Impala comes to a stop in front of a gas pump, the slightly warmer breeze of late February brushing through the car as Dean opens his door, half sitting out the door.

“Alright, I figure we’d hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight.” Dean announces. I hum in agreement with a little nod of my head, Dean looks back at me in acknowledgment and then at Sam, who has given no response or recognition.

He rolls his eyes, “Sam wears women’s underwear.”

“I’ve been listenin’, I’m just busy.” Sam shrugs his brother off, looking down at his PalmPilot.

“Busy doin’ what?” Dean shoots back.

“Reading e-mails.” Sam says simply, not even bothering to look up. Dean gets out of the car and rounds it, beginning to fill the tank with gas, “E-mails from who?”

“From my friends at Stanford” Sam replies.

“You’re kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?” Dean scuffs.

“Hey I don’t see anything wrong with that” I chime in truthfully.

“Well, what exactly does he tell ‘em?” Dean switches his gaze to Sam now, “You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?”

“Thank you Y/N.” Sam begins with before actually answering Dean's questions, “I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother and best friend. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.”

“Oh, so you lie to ‘em.” Den acknowledges.

“That’s not technically lying, he's just not giving all the details” I point out.

“Yeah, that’s still called lying. I mean, hey, man, I get it, tellin’ the truth is far worse.” Dean responds.

“So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?” Sam asks, Dean shrugs, “You’re serious?” he adds.

“Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period.” Dean states.

“Okay well, what about Y/N? We’ve known her for a long time but she’s not blood related, and I'd say you’re pretty close to her.” Sam brings up smiling to himself as if he knows he won, before quickly adding, “No offense Y/N.”

“Non taken” I answer, curious to hear Dean's response.

Dean goes quiet, just staring at his younger brother with big eyes and a tight jaw as if to tell him to stop. Finally he answers, mumbling, “That’s different.”

Without missing a beat Sam immediately follows up with, “How so?”

This time Dean really doesn't answer, just kind of looks awkwardly around. Realizing he won’t get an answer Sam adds, “Exactly.”

Dean rolls his eyes, half turning away to check how much longer he has to be there for.

Suddenly Sam speaks up again, except this time without his cocky smile and sassy attitude, “God….”

Dean turns back ‘round quickly, “What?”

“In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine.” Sam begins.

“Is she hot?” Dean cuts in, getting a look from both Sam and I before going back to the real situation at hand.

Sam ignores him, continuing his explanation, “I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zack’s been charged with murder. He’s been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn’t do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case.”

“Dude, what kind of people are you hangin’ out with?” Dean exclaims, putting the pump back in its place and closing the tank he rounds the car again.

“No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.” Sam assures as his brother gets back in the car.

“Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.” Dean offers.

“They’re in St. Louis. We’re goin’.” Sam orders.

Dean chuckles, “Look, sorry ‘bout your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem.”

“It is our problem. They’re my friends.” Sam shoots back.

“St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam.” Dean says, looking through the rear view mirror. He meets my eyes and I give him a pleading, knowing look. He sighs as he pulls out of the gas station, he makes a U-turn now driving back the way we came.

“Oh my God, Sam!” Rebecca greets happily, the long haired blonde smiling brightly.

“Well, if it isn’t little Becky.” Sam jokes bending down slightly with his arms open for a hug. She wraps her arms around him tightly, “You know what you can do with that little Becky crap.”

It’s odd but endearing to see Sam like this, being able to have a peek into what his life was like when he was away at college. When he was happy, things were a little bit simpler.

They break away and Sam turns serious, “I got your e-mail.” Her smile falters, “I didn’t think that you would come here.”

Dean steps forward and extends his hand, “Dean. Older brother.” She shakes his hand looking at him with a hint of confusion, “Hi.”

“Hi.” Dean says back with his cocky smile.

Her eyes wander over to me, as if signaling it’s my turn to introduce myself with a little wave, “Hi! I’m Y/N a, uh, good friend of these two.”

“Nice to meet you” She smiles back.

Sam, rightfully, cuts in, “We’re here to help. Whatever we can do.”

“Come in.” She steps aside leading us further into the house, Dean being the one to close the door.

“Nice place.” Dean compliments looking around the cozy well loved home.

“It’s my parents’. I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I’m gonna stay until Zack’s free.” She explains, as we follow her through the house.

“Where are your folks?” Sam asks.

“They lived in Paris for half the year, so they’re on their way home now for the trial.” She answers as we enter the kitchen, “ Do you guys want a beer or something?”

Dean smiles, “Hey—“

“No, thanks. So, tell us what happened.” Sam cuts him off, definitely for the better. This isn’t the time nor the place for drinks.

She leans against the island as she begins, “Well, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn’t breathing.” Her voice gets all crackly, tears freely flowing, “So, he called 911, and the police—they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could’ve killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police—they have a video. It’s from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight.”

“You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.” Sam offers.

“We could.” Dean adds

“Why? I mean, what could you do?” Rebecca asked.

“Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop.” Sam clarifies, nudging his brother.

Dean laughs, “Detective, actually.”

“Really? Where?” Rebecca gushes.

Easily Dean shrugs, “Bisbee, Arizona. But I’m off-duty now.” It always amazes me how easily these two lie, well mostly on Sam’s part.

“You guys, it’s so nice to offer, but I just—I don’t know” She stammers

“Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent.” Sam explains, eyebrows scrunched together in seriousness.

“Okay. I’m gonna go get the keys.” She leaves us alone in the kitchen, walking down the hall to get those keys.

“Oh, yeah, man, you’re a real straight shooter with your friends.” Dean comments, lightly shoving his brother.

“Look, Zack and Becky need our help” Sam pleads.

“I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.” Dean shrugs.

“Oh come on Dean, it's the right thing to do.” I add, joining the pleading party. “Yeah and two places at once? We’ve looked into less.” Sam points out. Dean sighs but remains silent in defeat, he won’t win this one especially when it’s the both of us pleading with him. He didn’t stand a chance.

The Impala pulls up across the street from Zack’s house, the white building in contrast with the yellow crime scene tape plastered on its outside.

We get out of the car, Rebecca having rode with me in the backseat, “You’re sure this is okay?” She asks Dean. “Yeah. I am an officer of the law.” Dean says all nonchalant as he leads us to the house.

Opening the door to this taped off house revealed a mess of blood. There was blood smeared on the walls and the furniture, a table cluttered with fruit, playing cards and newspapers as if a life was interrupted. And it was. One life physically gone and never coming back and another life, who is potentially innocent, sits rotting away in a jail cell. Rebecca remains strigid just outside the constraints of the police tape. Sam turns back to her, “Bec, you wanna wait outside?”

“No. I wanna help.” With tears in her eyes she ducks underneath the tape.

Dean and I walk slowly around the house, observing the messy crime scene. And although neither of us are actual police officers or forensic scientists it doesn't take a genius to figure out there was a struggle, based on the upturned furniture and the blood splatter alone.

Meanwhile Sam stays with his friend,“Tell us what else the police said.”

“Well, there’s no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let her attacker in. The lawyers—they’re already talking about plea bargain.” She looks around the room and begins to cry, “Oh, God…”

“Look, Bec, if Zack didn’t do this, it means someone else did. Any idea who?” Sam asks her, over the loud noise of a dog barking nearby.

She shakes her head, “Um, there was something, about a week before. Somebody broke in here and stole some clothes—Zack’s clothes. The police—they don’t think it’s anything. I mean, we’re not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed.”

Sam walks away from her with a nod. I then walk over to the half open front door, looking at the neighbors dog who hadn’t stopped barking the entire time we’ve been here.

I feel her come up behind me, “You know, that used to be the sweetest dog.”

“Oh, what happened to him?” I ask her, still looking at the black dog who bared its teeth as it barked relentlessly. If she hadn’t said anything I would think this dog was always aggressive, mean even.

“He just changed” She replies, half shrugging.

“Do you know when that change occurred?” I half turn to her.

“I guess around the time of the murder.”

I nod in confirmation, making a mental note, walking away towards the boys, a comforting hand on Rebecca’s shoulder.

The brothers stand in the hallway looking at a framed photograph of Sam, Zack, and Rebecca all together, talking over something I couldn’t quite catch. It’s bittersweet to think that even after Sam left for his “road trip” that his friends hadn’t forgotten him, had even kept up a photo of them all together.

“Apparently the neighbors dog suddenly became all aggressive around the time of Zack’s girlfriend's murder.” I retell the information I just gained. “Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal.” Sam adds.

“I was thinking the same thing” I nod along.

Sam turns to his brother, “So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?”

“No. Probably not. But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure.” Dean answers simply.

“Yeah.” Sam says

“Yeah.” Dean says back just as Rebecca walks over to us, “So, the tape. The security footage—you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it, ‘cause I just don’t have that kind of jurisdiction.”

“I’ve already got it. I didn’t wanna say something in front of a cop.” She answers, causing Dean to laugh (a little uncomfortably), “I stole it off the lawyer’s desk. I just had to see it for myself.”

“All right.” Dean says with the slightest hint of a smirk, leading us out just as he led us in.

After seeing the crime scene, Rebecca’s home stood as a total contrast. The clean cozy vibe of the home being completely absent of blood and the act of murder.

“Here he comes.” Rebecca turns her laptop towards us, pointing to the tape of Zack entering his house.

“22:04, that’s just after ten. You said time of death was about 10:30.” Dean points out.

“Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape’s authentic. It wasn’t tampered with.” She explains.

“Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now?” Sam cuts in, and if I hadn’t known him. Hadn’t known it was probably because he’d seen something he couldn’t exactly say with her around then I’d say it was a jerkish move.

“Oh, sure.” She gets up from the couch.

“Hey.” He calls out, forcing her to turn around, “Maybe some sandwiches, too?”

“What do you think this is, Hooters?” She replies back as she leaves the room. If I hadn’t known if I liked her before this I definitely do now.

“I wish.” Dean muttered in a hushed tone. I lightly smack the back of his head in warning. His head snapped towards me, and his eyes widened with confusion. “Don’t give me that look; you know what that was for!” I whispered, my words sharp as I poked his chest. He seized my wrist, his grip tight enough to send a shiver down my spine. The room seemed to grow smaller as my mouth fell slightly agape, and I gazed up at him through my eyelashes. He peered down at me, his green eyes seemingly a couple shades darker, a cocky smile on his face.

"Guys!" Sam whisper-shouted, and the small moment between Dean and me shattered like fragile glass. Dean quickly dropped my wrist, the cocky smile vanishing as he was caught in the act. My head reluctantly turned towards the taller man, although all I wanted was to keep my eyes on Dean, to feel his attention solely on me, but now it was all disrupted.

"Check this out," Sam rewinds the tape, seemingly unfazed by what he just witnessed. I clear my throat, attempting to dispel the lingering, fuzzy feeling that Dean's touch had stirred within me. This wasn't the time or place for distractions. Shifting my focus back to the reality of the hunt at hand, I watch as Sam rewinds the tape once more. In one of the frames, Zack stares directly at the camera, his eyes an eerie shade of silver, far from anything normal. Sam pauses the tape once again.

“Well, maybe it’s just a camera flare.” Dean shrugs, skepticism lingering in his voice.

“That’s not like any camera flare I’ve ever seen. You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul.” Sam informs.

“Right.” Dean says, unamused.

“No! Sam’s right! The belief has deep rooted ties to certain Native American cultures, it stems from the idea that a photograph freezes a moment in time and can capture a person’s spirit or energy at that moment.” I explained with a beaming smile, happy to share the fact.

“Do I even want to know why you know that?” Dean asks me to which I just shrugged, “I love fun facts.”

“Anyway” Sam continued, “Remember that dog that was freakin’ out? Maybe he saw this thing. Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zack’s, something that looks like him but isn’t him.”

“Like a Doppelganger.” Dean concluded.

“Yeah. It’d sure explain how he was two places at once.” Sam finished.

As dawn broke, the persistent nudge of the boys broke me from my slumber, rousing me from a deep, cozy dream. With a groggy sigh, I realized it was just 5 a.m., way too early for me. Regret gnawed at my bones as I recalled having given them the spare key to my motel room for precisely these sort of moments.

Reluctantly, I rolled out of bed and slipped into the comforting embrace of leggings, a sports bra, and a thick zip up sweater to fend off the early morning chill. As we piled into the car and set out for Zack's home once more, the chill weather and the steady movement of the car nearly brought me back to the darkness of sleep.

The car was now parked discreetly behind the house, and we stepped out, greeted by the morning's biting cold that nipped at our cheeks. "Alright, so why are we here at 5:30 in the morning?" Dean inquired, as he nursed a cup of coffee. "Mmm, yeah, it's way too early for all of this," I mumbled groggily in agreement.

"I realized something. The videotape shows the killer going in, but not coming out," Sam explained, gesturing toward the house behind him. "So, he came out the back door?" Dean pointed out, leaning against the hood of his car, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Right. So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue," Sam clarified, walking up to a large red garbage can. "Because they think the killer never left. And they caught your friend Zack inside. I still don't know why we're here at 5:30 in the morning," Dean grumbled, taking another sip from his coffee.

Sam walked away to scour the area only to stop near a telephone pole, noting, "Blood. Somebody came this way." Dean and I exchanged a perplexed look before joining Sam near the smeared blood. "The trail just ends...?" I inquired, glancing around to confirm what we were all seeing.

Suddenly the loud blaring of an ambulance sped past us, the red, white, and blue lights illuminating on the houses it passed. Once again, we exchanged a glance that balanced on the edge of caution and curiosity. With that unspoken understanding, we swiftly returned to the car and pursued the blaring ambulance.

Upon our arrival, a slightly older Asian man was being forcibly guided into a police car, his wrists cuffed tightly. Exiting the vehicle, we approached a woman nearby, clad in running wear. I asked her softly, "What happened?"

"He tried to kill his wife. Tied her up and beat her," the woman explained, causing my eyes to widen and my eyebrows to shoot up in shock.

"Really?" Sam inquired.

"I used to see him heading to work in the morning. He'd wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy," the woman sighed, her gaze fixed on the man being taken away.

Moments later we had split up, Sam and I together to semi-explore the crime scene, meaning the surrounding area since the police and a sizable forensic team were diligently at work. We were on the side of the house, scouring for any clues. Oddly enough, Sam sifted through garbage cans only to come up empty-handed. All we discovered was another trail of blood that suddenly terminated. We rounded to the front of the house.

"Hey," Dean called out, causing us to turn around. "Remember when I said this wasn't our kind of problem?"

"Yeah," Sam confirmed.

"Definitely our kind of problem," Dean nodded, sort of throwing his arm into it for emphasis.

"What caused the change of heart?" I inquired, stuffing my hands into my pockets to ward off the chill.

"Well, I just spoke to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alex's story. Apparently, the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked," Dean elaborated, nodding towards a burly police officer standing nearby.

"So, he was in two places at once," Sam stated rather than asked.

"Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house; the police think he's a nutjob," Dean shot back without missing a beat.

"Two evil doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way, how sweet," I remarked sarcastically.

"Could be the same thing doing it, too," Dean suggested. Sam looked up in thought, "Shapeshifter? Something that can make itself look like anyone?"

"Well, you know, every culture all over the world has shapeshifter lore. All sorts of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or the other way around or even into other men, like skinwalkers, werewolves, nanaue, etcetera," I reminded.

"We've got two attacks within blocks of each other. I'm guessing we've got a shapeshifter prowling the neighborhood," Dean added.

"Let me ask you this Y/N—in all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?" Sam asked me.

"Uh…no?" I answered.

He turned to Dean, leading the way, "Well then we picked up a trail here. Someone ran out the back of this building and headed off this way."

"Just like your friend's house," Dean confirmed.

"Yeah. And, just like at Zack's house, the trail suddenly ends. I mean, whatever it is just disappeared," Sam explained as we followed the trail of blood all the way to an empty street at the back of the house.

"Well, there's another way to go—down," Dean replied. The three of us peered down at a manhole.

"How lovely," I mumbled, not particularly thrilled about having to go into the sewers.

Sam lifts the grate up, allowing Dean to go in first with a smile with me following next down. Surprisingly the ladder wasn’t sticky and full of muck like I thought it’d be, but still it was gross to be down here and I don’t think two showers would be enough after this.

The tunnels were dark and leaky, a constant dripping sound coming from somewhere. “I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too. The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around.” Sam says, looking around.

“I think you’re right. Look at this.” Dean answers bending down in front of a glossy slimy pile of blood and skin. He takes out his pocket knife, pulling some of the skin up the slime of it glistening in the dim lights. I had to stop myself from gagging.

“Is this from his victims?” Sam inquires, a scrunched look of disgust on his face.

“You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds.” Dean pointed out, letting the goop of the skin fall back to the floor.

“Why would you say that?” I cringe, my question more rhetorical than anything.

Dean opens the trunk of the Impala, taking out some bullets and entering them into the slots of the gun. “Well, one thing I learned from Dad, is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there’s one sure way to kill it.”

“Silver bullet to the heart.” Sam smiles, dimples on display.

“That’s right.” And as if on cue Sam’s phone rings.

“This is Sam.” He answers walking to the front of the car, remaining just in hearing range. And just as much as I hate to admit it, Dean and I stayed quiet to eavesdrop.

“We’re near Zack’s, we’re just checkin’ some things out.

…

What are you talkin’ about?

…

Why would you do that?

…

Bec—

…

We’re tryin’ to help.

….

Bec, I’m sorry, but—“ His hand drops to his side, sighing as he looks down,

Dean walks over to his brother with a half frown, “I hate to say it, but that’s exactly what I’m talkin’ about.” He pauses before continuing, “You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they’d be freaked.” Again he pauses, “It’s just—it’d be easier if—“

“If I was like you.” Sam finished his sentence.

Dean breathes out looking around, “Hey, man, like it or not, we are not like other people.” He pauses for a third time, “But I’ll tell you one thing. This whole gig—it ain’t without perks.” He holds up a gun at hip level, Sam takes it with a sigh and begins tucking it into the back of his jeans. He begins to walk away leaving Dean and I behind.

Dean walks back over to me by the open trunk, he leans against the car as I hand him a flashlight. “What’s with that pout?” He asks me, tilting his head down to catch my eyes.

“I’m not pouting” I smile, nearly laughing. “I happen to know you quite well, you were definitely pouting sweetheart.” He smiles now too, “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

I closed the trunk, Dean taking another flashlight from me so I could tuck a small gun into the side of my leggings as I balanced my own flashlight. “I’m thinking that…this job is destructive” I look up at Dean who waits for me to continue, “Seeing Sammy with Rebecca and how happy he was just seeing a friend from college, or that photo with the three of them all together. It was bittersweet to see that really, knowing that he was and can be happy without all this” I motion to the flashlights and the guns neatly tucked away.

“I know” he sighs, “lasting relationships ain’t exactly part of the job description” he smiles sadly and I know he didn’t really know what to say to me.

I gave him a slow nod, giving his upper arm a squeeze as I walked past him, “We should go before Sam starts bugging us for taking so long.”

With guns and flashlights drawn, we cautiously treaded through the sewer, a squishy, unpleasant noise underfoot with each step. I’d definitely need to burn my shoes and clothes after this ordeal.

The sewer resembled a labyrinth, an intricate network of pipes and tunnels twisting and turning in every direction. Drips of who-knows-what fell from the ceiling. Despite our careful steps to avoid the puddles on the ground, I still felt utterly disgusted. There was not enough showering in the world to cleanse me of this event.

With Sam leading the way, his gun extended ahead of him, Dean broke the silence, "I think we're close to its lair."

"Why do you say that?" Sam murmured without turning back to acknowledge his brother. "Because there's another nauseating pile next to your face," Dean retorted, using his flashlight to reveal a slimy heap of skin clinging to a pipe. Sam leaped back, repulsed. "Oh, God!" He glanced down at his shoulder, which had been perilously close to the pile.

I moved my flashlight just past Sam, revealing a pile of discarded clothes. "I think it's lived here for a while."

"Who knows how many murders he's gotten away with," Sam added, turning to face us. "Dean!" He suddenly shouted. Both of us spun around to see the shapeshifter, still in its last victim's form, right behind us. The shapeshifter struck Dean, sending him crashing to the sewer floor, then sprinted away. Sam fired twice, the bullets whizzing just above my head. He missed.

I bent down to assist Dean, who clutched his left shoulder, grimacing. "Get that son of a bitch!" He grunted and nodded as Sam took off, leaning against the wall. Dean gestured for me to follow his brother.

Running in a sewer was just as challenging as walking, with overhead pipes requiring us to duck to avoid collision.

Sam reached a ladder and began ascending it, lifting himself up and out. I followed, feeling the cold night air surrounding me as I emerged. We stood in a park, a distance from where we had entered, scanning the surroundings. Dean struggled out of the manhole, still holding his shoulder.

"All right, let's split up," Sam suggested, concealing his gun within his jacket, out of sight from the passersby in the park. The fact that they hadn't noticed us emerging from a manhole was beyond me, but I didn't question it when it worked in our favor.

“All right, I’ll meet you guys around the other side.” Dean agreed.

“Copy” I answered in confirmation, I twirled to the left as Sam headed right, and Dean proceeded straight. Despite the cold air, I unzipped my thick sweater to conceal my gun while ensuring I could still draw it swiftly. Even though I was comfy I began to regret just wearing a sports bra beneath my sweater, my stomach and above my breasts open to the frigid air.

I walked cautiously, weaving through crowds, scanning both people and the shops that remained open. Yet, street after street, there was no sign of our quarry. No more than five to ten minutes passed before I spotted Sam standing by a crosswalk. I tucked my gun into my leggings, finally able to zip up my sweater. He must have caught sight of me approaching from the corner of his eye.

"Nothing?" he asked, even though he likely knew the answer. I nodded in confirmation.

"Hey," Dean's voice called out from behind us, prompting us to turn toward him. "Anything?" he inquired, arms outstretched. "No. He's gone," Sam replied as his brother approached.

"Alright, let's get back to the car," Dean ordered, and we complied, turning to cross the street.

“You think he found another way underground?” Sam asks, stopping at the side of the Impala.

“Yeah, probably. You got the keys?” Dean retorts.

“Hey, didn’t Dad once face a shapeshifter in San Antonio?” Sam turns around facing Dean.

“Oh, that was Austin. It turned out not to be a shapeshifter, it was a thought form. A psychic projection, remember?”

“Oh, right. Here ya go.” He throws Dean the keys who catches it with his…left hand, he opens the trunk of the car. Sam walks off towards the front of the car but I hang back, maybe I'm overthinking it but this isn’t something that I can just let slip by.

“Hey, Dean” I call out my gun trained carefully on his back, “Yeah sweetheart” He answers turning around. I fight the urge to cringe hearing the usual endearing pet name curl off the lips of someone who wasn’t Dean, even more so a being who looked like him.

Sam sees my movements and swiftly moves to the right side of his brother, “Y/N! What are you doing”

“Yeah, chill. It’s me, all right?” ‘Dean shoots back his arms raised in defense.

“Sammy, he caught the keys with his left hand” I explained through gritted teeth. In my peripheral vision I see Sam’s eyes widen in realization, he mumbles, “Your shoulder was hurt.” His hand moved to the back of his waistband, searching for his gun. But before he could reach it, the shapeshifter swung a crowbar from the trunk, striking Sam down. My gun went off twice, the first bullet missing entirely, allowing the shapeshifter to hit Sam once more.

The second bullet nearly finding its mark, grazing his shoulder. He turned his head slowly toward me, glaring up at me through his lashes. A bullet grazing his shoulder didn't seem to slow him down. He stalked toward me, like a predator closing in on its prey. But before I could pull the trigger for a third time, he used the same crowbar to knock the gun out of my hand. The sharp metal sent the weapon tumbling, 'Dean' kicking it behind him, it sliding beneath the car.

He grinned at me, and my eyes widened with a mix of fear and determination. As he swung his arm back, ready to strike me with the crowbar, I grabbed hold of it, both hands clenching the cold metal. He was undeniably stronger than me, so I braced my feet even harder against the ground, bending my knees for added leverage and pushing up against the weapon.

His feet swept under me, sending me crashing hard to the ground, my back absorbing the brunt of the impact. I grunted, pushing myself up on my elbows, preparing to rise. But he quickly knelt over me, a knee on each side of my hips. 'Dean's' large, veiny hand closed around my throat, gripping it tightly. I used my hands to try and push him off, but it was futile. With his free hand, he seized my wrists, pinning them to my chest. My head lolled back against the concrete street.

My chest began to burn with the desperate need for air, and tears welled up in my eyes from the pain. Black spots started to invade my vision as I gazed up at 'Dean' through half lidded eyes. “Come on, baby," he growled, his voice raspy as his grip tightened even further. It was the last thing I heard before everything faded to black.

In and out, voices sang in a disjointed melody. Dim lights blurred behind my closed eyes. Fragments of Sam's voice pierced through the darkness, the words struggling to piece together. "Where...he...?...Dean?"

I blinked slowly, my head swaying to the side and then back. With a deep breath, my eyes snapped open. We were in the sewer.

Sam sat directly across from me, tightly bound to a pole, a rope encircling his neck. Strangely, it wasn't a rope that constricted my neck but something cold. I lurched my shoulders forward, feeling the restrictive, itchy rope around my ankles, wrists bound behind my back, and right beneath my breasts. It was then that I noticed my sweatshirt was missing.

"I wouldn't worry about him. I'd worry about you," 'Dean' told Sam, seemingly unaware that I was also awake.

I attempted to move my bound hands, intending to use my magic to free myself from the ropes, but nothing happened. I couldn't sense my magic at all. Panic began to well up within me. I kicked my feet out in frustration, though beneath the surface, I was terrified. I couldn't feel my magic.

'Dean's' head snapped toward me, his gaze drawn to my soft whimpers of fear. "Are you wondering why you can't just...poof out of there?" I didn't answer. He crouched down in front of me, tapping the cold, constricting object around my neck, the sharp clicking of his nails against metal audible. "Iron," he whispered. He firmly grasped my chin, moving my face as though to savor what he'd done, offering me no chance to evade his touch. "From what I've learned from you guys, this has never happened to you," he murmured. He was right; while I was aware of what could inhibit a witch's powers, it had never been used against me

"Fuck you," I spat out, the curse word feeling alien on my tongue. I wasn't one to curse often.

"Oh, right back at you, sweetheart," he chuckled, rising from his crouched position and strolling over to a nearby table.

"What do you mean, 'learn'?" Sam asked him. The shapeshifter paused, gripping his head in pain and grimacing, then suddenly relaxed.

This time, he moved over to Sam, his voice laden with resentment. "He's got some serious issues with you. You went to college, and he had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home with Dad." He corrected himself, "You don't think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?"

Sam brushed aside his comment and pressed, "Where is my brother?"

The shapeshifter leaned in close to Sam, his words oozing with bitterness. "I am your brother. See, deep down, I'm just jealous. You have friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I'm a freak. Sooner or later, everybody's going to leave me." He retreated to another table, this time picking up a knife.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked.

"You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothing, just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. But, still, this life? It's not without its perks," he laughed darkly. "I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky."

His gaze shifted to me now, his head tilted to the side in a taunt "You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance." I strained against my restraints, and he turned back to Sam. "Let's see what happens." He walked away, grabbing a bag on his way out.

As soon as the shapeshifter was out of sight, Sam and I began struggling against our restraints. "Damn it," Sam grunted.

I mirrored his efforts, but anxiety washed over me, and my breathing became rapid and shallow. Panic coursed through my veins, I couldn’t feel my magic. The unfamiliar absence of my powers only added to my distress. Leaning my head back against the pole, I hoped that somehow, it would rid me of the constricting iron collar around my neck.

"Y/N, you've got to breathe," Sam urged through gritted teeth as he continued to struggle against the bindings. I tried to listen to him, taking a deep breath that got caught in my throat as I attempted to swallow a sob, releasing a low whimper.

Suddenly, Sam ceased his struggles, and we both listened. We heard movement and coughing coming from somewhere behind him.

"That better be you, Sam, and not that freak of nature," Dean's voice called out from a corner his, also tied to a pole.

"Yeah, it's me," Sam chuckled. "He went to Rebecca's, looking like you," Sam added as he continued to struggle against his ropes.

"Well, he's not stupid. He picked the handsome one," Dean joked as he continued working on his own ropes. “Yeah, that’s the thing. He didn’t just look like you, he was you. Or he was becoming you.” Sam explains further.

“What do you mean?” Dean asks.

“I don’t know, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories.” Sam shrugs as well as he can in his confinement.

“You mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?” Dean references, escaping his ropes. “Yeah, somethin’ like that. I mean, maybe that’s why he doesn’t just kill us.” Sam suggests.

Dean walks over to us, standing between the two of us. I urged him to release Sam first, my voice trembling. He nodded and moved behind Sam to undo the ropes. “Maybe he needs to keep us alive. Psychic connection.” Sam was quickly freed and stood up to stretch his neck and flex his hands. "Go see if you can find a drill or something for that," Dean ordered, pointing at the metal collar around my neck. Sam nodded and began searching the nearby tables.

Dean crouched next to me, undoing my restraints as he inquired, "What is that thing?"

"Iron," I mumbled, and his eyes widened in realization. He pulled out a pocket knife, I assume he picked up from the nearby table. I flinched slightly, even though I knew this was Dean, the real Dean who would never harm me.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm just using it for the ropes," he reassured me, raising his hands in defense and displaying the knife. He glanced at his brother across the room, and I couldn't decipher their exchanged looks. I felt silly.

Sam approached with the drill in hand, "I got it," he said, kneeling on the other side of me to begin unscrewing the collar. It seemed to be a rectangular piece of iron cut from a sheet and then drilled into the pole around me, creating this confining device. The whirring of the drill close to my ear did little to ease my anxiety.

The rope around which had rested just below my breasts, fell free. Dean quickly moved on to the one binding my wrists, which came apart more easily, and then to my ankles. I placed my hands on my lap, my wrists slightly bruised from the rope, and finger imprints marked into my skin. I now dreaded seeing what my neck looked like.

Dean's large hands cupped my wrists, gently massaging my sore skin. His movements faltered when he realized his hands and fingers matched perfectly with the bruises. The whirring of the drill stopped as Sam shifted the metal slightly, allowing me to slip free. I shuffled away from the collar, standing up quickly, nearly stumbling over myself. The sensation of my abilities returning enveloped me, offering a sense of comfort.

Both brothers stood up from their crouched positions, and Sam walked away to place the drill somewhere.

Dean approached me slowly, as if I were a frightened animal. He paused just inches in front of me, his eyebrows furrowing as he scrutinized my bruised form. His hand reached up slowly, giving me the chance to evade him, but I didn't. I allowed him to cup my cheek, his touch gentle and in stark contrast to the shapeshifter. I reminded myself that the shapeshifter wasn't him.

His gaze was soft as he observed me, carefully tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. He'd already seen the bruises, but his eyes dipped to my neck again, a touch of sorrow evident in his gaze. Just like my wrists, if he put his hand to my neck, it would match perfectly. I knew he would blame himself for this later.

With his hand still cradling my cheek, he brought my face closer to his. His lips pressed to the crown of my head, lingering there for a moment, and I melted against him. The urge to cry washed over me again, though this time it wasn't from fear, but rather from the overwhelming relief.

"Sorry to ruin the moment, but we've got to go," Sam's voice broke the silence from across the room. Dean didn't jump back or withdraw, instead his lips left my head as his hand slid from my face gently. His hand sought mine, and we followed Sam as he led us out.

Sam kicks open a grate, going out first into an alleyway. I crawl out after him, Dean following closely behind. The cold air nipped at us, our jackets nowhere in sight, and though that mixed with my bruising wasn’t the greatest fun in the world I at least got to see Dean in a tight light gray shirt. This probably shouldn’t have been on my mind at this moment but it was a nice distraction.

“Come on. We gotta find a phone, call the police.” Sam orders.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. You’re gonna put an APB out on me.” Dean exclaims.

Sam shrugs, “Sorry.”

“This way.” Dean runs off down the street.

We stood in front of a store window, a bunch of little tvs broadcasting the same news channel.

The reporter announces, “An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home.” A sketch of Dean appearing on screen, “

“Man! That’s not even a good picture.” Dean throws up his arms.

“It’s good enough” I answer, looking around at the passerby, “We should move somewhere more out of sight.”

“Agreed” Sam says walking off. “Man!” Dean complains following after his brother.

"Come on," Sam paused in the alleyway. "They said attempted murder. At least we know—"

"I didn't kill her," Dean cut him off.

"We'll check with Rebecca in the morning, see if she's all right," Sam suggested. But I couldn't picture her wanting to see us.

"Alright, but first, I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him," Dean declared.

"We have no weapons. No silver bullets," Sam pointed out.

"Sam, the guy's walking around with my face. It's personal. I want to find him," Dean argued, crossing his arms.

"Okay. Where do we look?" Sam asked.

"Well, we could start with the sewers," Dean suggested.

"We have no weapons. He stole our guns. We need more," Sam reasoned.

"Oh," I laughed. "You want guns. I'll give you guns." I flicked my wrist, and a gray revolver appeared in my hand, just like when I produced the flare gun back during the wendigo hunt.

I handed the gun to Sam, adding, "How many do you want?"

“I don’t think I can wait, I'm gonna go check on Rebecca now.” Sam said as we walked around some back streets, near the person in question's house.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? No offense” I ask him.

“Yeah. You guys just wait for me don’t go into the sewers alone” Sam orders

“Sorry Sammy but do you really think i’ll be able to listen to that” Dean responds chuckling.

“Alright, fair point. Go, i’ll stay with Becca just don’t split up” Sam comprises, turning away to go to Rebecca’s.

Guns raised, Dean leads us across a ‘room’ in the sewer. The chamber filled candles and chains, more piles of disgusting skin and blood on the floor.

A muffling noise echoes through the halls, Dean and I share a look gripping our guns tighter as we approach a figure covered with a sheet.

Dean bends down to the figure, removing the sheet to see Rebecca beneath it. Her hands and feet were bound.

“Rebecca?” Dean and I ask at the same time.

“What happened?” I ask as Dean begins to undue her binds.

Rebecca begins to cry, “ I was walking home, and everything just went white. Someone hit me over the head, and I wound up here just in time to see that thing turn into me. I don’t know, how is that even possible?”

“Okay, okay. It’s okay.” Dean finishes untying her, “Come on. Can you walk?” She nods, “Okay, we’ve gotta hurry. Sam went to see you.”

Even from outside her house you could hear the commotion and most likely fighting that happened inside. Dean crept the door open, gun drawn as he snuck in. I mimicked his movement falling after him into the living room.

The shapeshifter was on top of Sam, pinning him down.

“Hey!” Dean calls out to the shapeshifter. He gets off of Sam turning to the voice that beckoned it. Two shots ring out, through the heart and down the shapeshifter went.

Rebecca enters running over to her friend, “Sam!”

Meanwhile Dean went over to the shapeshifter that looked like him yanking back his necklace that was stolen, and it was probably bad that I hadn’t known it was gone till now.

I sat in my usual spot in the back seat of the Impala, cozied up with my halloween blanket regardless of the fact it was early March. It’s my favorite and I won’t accept any criticism.

The early morning sun shone through the windows, we hadn’t slept last night, spending the entire time busy with the hunt and by the time it was over morning was already breaking and we had to leave to avoid the police. We stopped at the motel for our bags but that was it, we were going to bid our goodbyes and then head to the next state over to rest up. I wasn’t even able to shower, which was okay in retrospect, I'd feel cleaner mentally once we drove away from here. I’d thrown a random t-shirt I had over the sports bra I had been running around in for hours. We eventually did find our coats but I hadn’t taken mine with me, memories I hadn’t wanted to keep sewn into its fabric.

Dean leaned on the outside of the car looking at a map while Sam talked to his friend. Neither boy bothered me or had talked to me much in the couple of hours since the end of our hunt, perhaps too afraid to ask if I was okay or maybe they didn’t know what to say.

I looked out the window watching the trees dance slowly in the wind after waving bye to Rebecca, listening to the boys talk in front of the car.

“So, what about your friend, Zack?” Dean asks now ignoring the map.

“ Cops are blamin’ this Dean Winchester guy for Emily’s murder.” Sam jokes smiling, “They found the murder weapon in the guy’s lair, Zack’s clothes stained with her blood. Now they’re thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah, Becca says Zack will be released soon.”

Dean rolls his eyes, scuffing, before getting into the car.

We’ve only driven for a couple minutes before Dean brings back the subject of the hunt and everything that had unfolded, “Sorry, man.” Dean suddenly began.

“About what?” Sam responds.

“ I really wish things could be different, you know? I wish you could just be….Joe College.” Dean confesses.

“No, that’s okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in.” Sam admits too.

“Well, that’s ‘cause you’re a freak.” Dean smiles that charming sweet smile.

“Yeah, thanks.” Sam laughs.

“Well, I’m a freak, too.” Dean adds

“You already know I'm one!” I topple on.

“See, we’re right there with ya, all the way.” Dean chuckles. “Yeah, I know you are.” Sam looks between Dean and I as he speaks.

“Those who freak together, stay together?” I offer with a smile, the car falling into laughter. The kind of laughter that lasts in the air even after it was over with, it was stupid of course but it left a warmth in my heart that blanketed me with just enough comfort to last me till the next state over where I'd be safe.

The car fell silent, big smiles on all our faces, “You know, I gotta say—I’m sorry I’m gonna miss it.” Dean announces randomly.

“Miss what?” Sam laughs lightly.

“How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #fanfiction #sam winchester #supernatural #john winchester #slow burn #witchcraft #series #mystery #winchester x reader #witch reader #romance #dean winchester x witch reader #dean winchester x female!reader #the hunter and the witch

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colemorrison · 6 months

Note

Hear me out

Partner in Crime by Madilyn Mei

With Deadlocke Cassidy or maybe even Junkrat (I could see it working either way)

Mainly just these lyrics

Run for it

I'll keep em occupied for you

Cause I love you, I love you so

Left me hangin at the station

But you'll be back for me soon

I'm 'bout to die

Yet the only thing I find i'm worried about is you

Something tells me you aren't coming

Guess that I'm truly doomed

IM A SUCKER FOR ANGST

Maybe a happy ending, maybe not (just be warned I might make you pay for my therapy bills)

This is way too fucking good to not do it, this is THE idea. Oh my god I hope this is good.

Junkrat :

He ran not thinking anything of it, maybe he thought you were right behind him or maybe he didn’t care. Then the footsteps sounded around the corner, they were done for, him and Roadie would get caught and then it would all be over.

Run for it I'll keep em occupied for you. ‘Cause I love you, I love you so

The words rang in his ears as he watched you take the beating, a distraction. That’s all you were, he didn’t have feelings for you, why would he? You were simply a pawn in their plan to finish this and get out of here alive and with the money.

“Run.”

Roadhog’s voice reminded him they were still very much in a bad place. Would he leave you behind?

“Jamison, we do not have fucking time for this.”

Hog’s rough voice made the hair on his body stand up, he knew he wasn’t fucking around but something about this was wrong. You didn’t deserve to be left behind to die… Did you..?

Left me hangin at the station but you'll be back for me soon.

Junkrat turned, he was leaving you, he couldn’t deal with this. Maybe if you somehow survived he would come find you again and apologise but right now he was leaving you to be a distraction.

I'm 'bout to die, yet the only thing I find i'm worried about is you.

Your head turned, ignoring the increasing beating your body was enduring. As long as Junkrat made it out and safe then it was worth it.

As long as he was safe.

Time continued to pass at a slow pace, dying on the ground, maybe this was what you deserved, karma for what you had done all those years ago.

Something tells me you aren't coming, guess that I'm truly doomed.

At least he was out and safe.

————

I have no money for your therapy BUT I am pretty funny sooo 😏.

#overwatch #overwatch2 #overwatch imagines #jamison fawkes #junkrat #overwatch 2 #OH MY GOD #I LOVE THIS #I LOVE YOU #for THE mutual <3

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liviavanrouge · 8 months

Text

New Outfits

Fellow: Now, now, everyone scan your tickets!

Lilia and Cater: *Steps forward and scans the tickets*

Lilia: *Smiles, appearing in his new outfit*

Cater: *Smiles and winks, throwing up the peace sign*

Cater: Wah~ cute!

Cater: This outfit is like a classic nutcracker type. Bet I'll really shine at the park!

Lilia: Cater, it really suits you. Seems like a rather smart outfit for you

Cater: Thanks~ Lilia's is super cute too!

Cater: When it comes to frills and tulle, Lilia really is unrivaled

Lilia: Kufufu, that's right, that's right... Look, there's a pile of ribbons fluttering off my butt

Lilia: Us two are both strong is the cool and cute categories, aren't we?

Cater: Ahaha, sayin' that about yourself? But it might be true~! Then just one quick shot! Ya-y~!

Lilia and Cater: *Smiles standing together, Cater taking a picture*

Trey, Denzel and Leona: *Scans their tickets*

Denzel: *Sighs, looking nervous in his new outfit*

Trey: *Chuckles shaking his head, twining with Denzel*

Leona: *Sighs*

Denzel: Me and Trey have the same outfits but different colors and designs...this sucks..

Leona: What pompus shit, way too overblown for hangin' out at an amusement park

Trey: *Crosses his arms over his chest* Even though it suits you so well... Leona, you saying it's pompus puts us in a bad spot

Denzel: *Shakes his head* You. Not us. You, Trey...

Leona: *Smiles* Ha, as if you both weren't thinkin' that at all

Denzel: Don't lump me in with him!!

Leona: *Smirks* You look like the good cute little boy you always act like. Suits you, Clover

Trey: *Sighs* Please stop

Trey: *Grins* ... Besides, Leona, you look so upstanding with a collar like that on

Trey: With that hat and jacket, you're so refined. Of course, maybe you should always do that

Leona: *Smiles and crosses his arms* I usually am, ain't I?

Jack, Golden and Vil: *Scans their tickets next*

Jack: *Blinks the rubs the back of his head*

Golden: *Stares stoically his eyes narrowed*

Vil: *Crosses his arms, Golden staring at him*

Vil: *Stares back at Golden noticing his expression, then quickly looks away* ..mirror!

Fellow: Yes, of course. Oi Gidel, bring the mirror!

Gidel: *Quickly brings the mirror over, Golden holding it up*

Vil: *Narrows his eyes, staring at his reflection then relaxes* I was thinking about what to do if you forced an inelegant outfit upon me, but...this may be adequate

Golden: *Smiles and nods*

Vil: Taking a traditional marching jacket and adding this embroidery on the sleeves gives it a playful air

Vil: And around the hips it's got volume like a dress

Golden: *Nods in agreement, looking smitten with Vil and his outfit*

Vil: The shades woven into the tulle are fitting for time spent at the fabled amusement park, making another whimsical detail

Jack: I don't really get what you're sayin', but... It's a pretty outfit that's very much like Vil, I think

Vil: Really? You also look stylish, Jack

Vil: This white shirt with the ornamentation just skirting your shoulders accentuates your physique

Jack: *Nods feeling Golden's eyes on him* Is that... So? Thank you

Golden: *Frowns and turns away, sulking*

Vil: Oh my poor baby, how could I forget you~

Golden: *Turns around eagerly, his eyes sparkling*

Vil: *Smiles, scratching Golden underneath his chin* Your outfit...I simply adore the tiger like stripes along your sleeves and your button up shirt

Golden: *Smiles, practically melting when Vil pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips*

Jack: That's Vil's boyfriend for you... literal definition of 'walk him like a dog'

Kalim: Everyone's sup-er cool! I wonder what I'll get

Livia: YEAH!

Vapula: *Sighs and shakes his head* For Livia I will wear an ugly outfit..

Kalim, Livia and Vapula: *Scans their tickets*

Livia: *Beams giggling, wearing ballerina like outfit*

Vapula: *Narrows his eyes and grumbles, wearing an outfit similar to Fellow but more fancy*

Kalim: *Smiles, Livia looking at him amazed*

Kalim: Oh, they really do change in no time

Livia: Agreed!

Kalim: How is it, everyone? Do we look good!?

Vapula: No, you look like an oversized yellow beetle that I feel like burning to a crisp! You're standing too close to Livia...

Fellow: Oya, well, Kalim is once again especially gorgeous

Fellow: *Smiles and takes Livias hand, twirling her around* And Livia here looks like a pro ballerina! Absolutely stunning, beautiful!

Vapula: *Scowls, daring Fellow to say something to him*

Cater: That pop of yellow, it's totally cheerful like you, Kalim!

Lilia: Mmhmm, the mutton sleeves bring to mid fashion I've seen nobility wear in the past. It really suits you Kalim

Kalim: Really? Hehe, awesome. Oh! These pants are nice and flashy and red!

Kalim: I love flashy and cheerful clothes like this. I like them!

Cater: Us three in the music club are all pretty different but we'll all shine on stage, yeah? What d'ya think?

Jade: Yes. You look just like a single entertainment group. You all look lovely

Fellow: That dazzling idol brilliance! Today's stage show will certainly be eye-opening~

Gidel: *Beams at Livia*

Livia: *Smiles* You like my outfit? Thank you!

Kalim: Yeah! It's a little stiff and heavy, but stage outfits can be like that

Livia: I gotta agree, this is also a little tight for me

Kalim: Well, just you watch~ I'm gonna dance and make it loud and exciting!

Fellow: ...stiff, tight and heavy? That's the first time we've gotten that response

Jade: Kalim and Livia usually has their pick of only the best outfits made of the finest materials, so...

Jade: I am sure it is only when compared to that. You can be assured of our satisfaction

Fellow: *Smiles* Hahaha... that is something. I will send these valuable opinions up the chain

Ortho: Kalim, Livia, it's really pretty. Nice!

Plumerina: Livia, you look absolutely beautiful in that ballerina outfit, the low bun hair style suits you..

Asher: Agreed, looks like the jackets Vil and Cater are wearing were decorated much more ballerina like for you and the tutu reaches down to your knees..the ribbons around your wrists look like that of a ribbon dancer..

Livia: *Giggles* I know right!

Vapula: *Glares at Fellow, silencing the fox when he opened his mouth to speak* I. Dare. You

Kalim: Right? Ortho, Asher, Plumerina, hurry up and get your tickets out too!

Plumerina: *Sighs* Very well

Asher: Sounds good..

Ortho: But... unlike human clothes, changing my gear isn't so easy

Fellow: *Chuckles* Fahaha, don't think so little of Playful Land

Fellow: Look forward to what could happen. That's the motto of this amusement park, you know?

Ortho: T-then my gear, too...

Asher: Let's give it a try, kid

Plumerina: If something happens, Asher here can fix it

Ortho: A-Alright...

(Translation belongs to Ekala from YouTube)

#twst livia #twst lilia #twst golden #vil twst #twst trey #twst denzel #twst ortho #twst kalim #twst cater #twst jack #twst vapula #twst asher #twst plumerina #twst leona #fellow honest #ferro honest #twst ferro

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resurrection-of-soul · 5 months

Text

Flashback | BIOHAZARD 6

Writer: Akira (日日日)

Characters: Koga, Keito

Keito: Oogami! The least you could do is respond! What are you doing on the roof of the bicycle parking lot? I don't know if you're copying Sakuma-san or what, but don't do such strange things! Koga: Hmph. Even though there's a noisy, beaten dog barkin' at me at the moment, this is usually a nice, quiet spot with a lotta sunlight, so it's a nice place to get some sleep! (Wha? My mouth just moved on its own! The hell is with this? So gross!)

NOTE: From here on out, the story sporadically dips between the real world and a dream world being shared by all the members of UNDEAD. To visually separate the two in text, I will be using italics to indicate speech from real characters inside the dream world.

[ For the best viewing experience, please read directly on my blog! ♪ ]

Time: Later that night.

Location: Inside UNDEAD's shared dreamscape.

Koga: (…...) (…Nn? Huh?) (No way, mornin' already?) (The sun's so damn bright... Guess the pills they made us take for the experiment made me fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.) (I just closed my eyes n' the whooole night's already gone just like that, huh? Feels like I barely got any sleep.) (Wait, hold on? Even if it's mornin', ain't the sun way too bri— Huh!?)

Koga: (The hell!?) (Where the fuck is this? Didn't I fall asleep in that ryokan-like room...?) (Why the hell am I suddenly outside? This makes no sense!) (And, wait, huh? I can't move a muscle!?) (Is this sleep paralysis or somethin'? I don't understand a fuckin' thing!)

Keito: ...Oogami!

Koga: (Ah, this voice is…!?)

Keito: You there? Get down here, we need to talk!

Koga: (It's Hasumi-senpai— I mean, that shitty four-eyes, ain't it? Damn, you're still wastin' that nice, clear voice of yours on spoutin' bullshit like always, huh!?)

Keito: Oogami! The least you could do is respond! What are you doing on the roof of the bicycle parking lot? I don't know if you're copying Sakuma-san or what, but don't do such strange things!

Koga: Hmph. Even though there's a noisy, beaten dog barkin' at me at the moment, this is usually a nice, quiet spot with a lotta sunlight, so it's a nice place to get some sleep! (Wha? My mouth just moved on its own! The hell is with this? So gross!)

Keito: Who are you calling a beaten dog? Bastard, learn how to speak to your upperclassmen properly. Though, I suppose it's better than being weirdly hung up on formalities. And…hup.

Koga: Woah, you just casually got up on the roof like it's normal. Even though you're a monk who's always actin' like an honor student, you're surprisin'ly rowdy, huh?

Keito: Heh. I might seem straitlaced now, but I used to be a problem child who would climb up into the rafters in the main hall and kick the Buddha statue without permission, and every time, my father or older brother had to give me a smack before I'd stop.

Koga: That ain't the kinda thing ya oughta be actin' proud of, y'know.

Keito: Exactly so. …Imitating Sakuma-san's wild behavior will not benefit you in any way, as you'll simply be shunned and blamed by those around you.

Koga: Wh-who's imitatin' that guy?! This just so happens to be the perfect place to catch some sleep!

Keito: Is it difficult for you to sleep at home? Do you have a bad relationship with your family?

Koga: I-it ain't like that! It's just that they're always scoldin' me for hangin' out at underground live houses.

Keito: Those kinds of places are hotspots for delinquents. I can understand how your parents feel. They aren't scolding you, they're just worried.

Koga: G-geez, I ain't some lil' kid who needs my parents fussin' over me.

Keito: No matter how much time passes, in a parent's eyes, their children will always be children.

Keito: That aside, I see… The view from up here is surprisingly good. Look, Oogami. What's that, moving on the horizon? A ship?

Koga: Shut uuup, hell if I know. I mean, seriously, what's the matter with you… Hasumi-senpai, did'ja actually need me¹ for somethin'?

Keito: "ore-sama"?

Koga: Wh-what, you got a problem with the way I talk?

Keito: Not at all, I just hope you don't feel embarrassed of yourself when you look back on this behavior in the future.

Koga: Says the guy who goes around usin' "kisama,²" seriously.

Keito: Details. … Anyway, I did have actual business with you. For reasons unknown, Sakuma-san has called for us, the members of DEADMANZ, to gather as soon as possible. He wants us to go to the underground live house after school.

Koga: Hah? DEADMANZ? Wasn't that a "temporary unit" meant to be used just for that performance³ the other day?

Keito: I believed so as well. However, due to the circumstances it was necessary to establish it as an official unit, and we have yet to go through the proper procedures to dissolve it. To summarize, you and I are both still members of DEADMANZ. However, the others who helped us during that abominable "Dead Man's Live," such as Kiryu, were treated as guests and are not officially counted as unit members.

Koga: Oh yeah, that kinda scary lookin' guy… Hold on, does this mean I'll get to stand on stage with Sakuma-senpai again?

Koga: Woohoo! Ya shoulda said that right away, you guy with the stupid-lookin' glasses!

Keito: Don't speak ill of glasses. I'll get angry, since it reminds me of the way Sakuma-san and Eichi teased me relentlessly when I first started wearing glasses as a child. Anyway, to be perfectly honest, I don't really want to do this... Now's the time to switch up my thoughts and strategies in order to embark on the reform of Yumenosaki. There's a lot to take into consideration, and a mountain of things that need doing. I'm very busy. Getting called out by Sakuma-san at a time like this is definitely not going to lead to anything good... If I could, I would just pretend I didn't hear him and head on home, but... That's not an option. I'm the one who came up with the rule saying that the members of a unit should do their best to follow their leader's instructions, after all.

[ ☆ ]

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ore-sama, of course. A combination of the informal, masculine first-person pronoun ore and the honorific -sama, which is typically used to show great respect (ie, you'd use this honorific when addressing, say, the emperor). Ore-sama is therefore one of the most obnoxiously self-important ways a man can address himself. Please note this is the first time Koga actually uses a first-person pronoun in the JP script during this convo. That's relevant because Keito is about to comment on it.

Japanese pronouns are a whole thing. The short explanation is that, first off, it's already considered a little rude to directly address someone as "you" rather than using their name/title/whatever. Then, there's a whole hierarchy of pronouns you're meant to use depending on gender and a person's familiarity with/social status relative to yours. The immediately relevant bit here is the fact that Keito's preferred second-person pronoun, kisama, is rude as all hell. It used to be formal and respectful (hence the -sama honorific), but gradually came to come across as sarcastic in an insulting sort of way. People do not use this in real life unless a fistfight is imminent. (Well. People don't use it in real life regardless because it's fairly archaic and pretty much only shows up these days in works of fiction as a character quirk, but. You get the point.) Keito's tone is difficult to properly convey into English in general, because he uses a lot of big, fancy words and quotes a lot of proverbs, but he also conjugates sentences in a really direct and informal way, which makes him sound like a delinquent. Imagine someone who talks like a posh scholarly type, only to casually drop "fuck" into half his sentences.

A reference to Crossroad. I won't be marking every reference to Crossroad made in this story, as there are many. If you haven't already read it, I highly recommend doing so before returning to Flashback as, in many ways, Flashback can be considered a sequel to Crossroad.

#ensemble stars #enstars translation #koga oogami #keito hasumi #flashback #undead #biohazard

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mystery-fic-anon · 2 years

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Swimming with the Fish chapter 16: Lunch Box

Sans brings Red some food, and they hang out.

Warnings: none, just fluff

Thank you to nugget4550 for beta reafing, I appreciate it and I am happy to be back to this story!

Read it on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18979897/chapters/105494568

Read it from the beginning: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18979897/chapters/45066976

Red sat up with a start, rubbing his eye sockets. He glanced around, but the cave was still the same four walls. Red sighed, sitting back against the wall. He didn’t remember what had woken him up, he just suddenly felt the need to be awake. That was odd, he usually remembered his nightmares…

Maybe Sans was coming. Red still didn’t have a proper sleeping schedule, but his body had begun to recognize what time Sans brought him food. Red usually woke up an hour before Sans even surfaced in the cave, his magic giving him hunger pangs. It was accepting the food at least, and Red was slowly feeling better. The healing might go faster with healer or one of Alphys’ concoctions, but Red wasn’t complaining. As long as he healed enough to fight properly, he’d be just fine.

Red stretched as much as he could, groaning softly. He rubbed his eyes again, then straightened his clothes slightly. His clothes were starting to disintegrate a bit, and even his jacket was getting crusty. The sea water didn’t help, it just made his clothes stiff and full of tiny salt crystals that aggravated his scars. Maybe he should ask Sans about getting a bit more water next time, and see what he could do…

Before he could think any more about that, a familiar splashing sound came from the centre of the pool. Sans popped up, water running down his porcelain bones as he smiled at Red. He seemed more excited today, his magic glowing brighter than it had before. Red hoped that he would keep resting, because he looked much better like this.

“Hey, how’s it hangin’?” Red said, shifting so he was kneeling on the edge of the pool.

Sans gave Red a thumbs-up, and then pulled out the food. There was much more than usual, and two water containers. Red hummed in shock, looking up at Sans. Sans just smiled at Red, pushing one of the containers towards him.

“Sharing.” Sans said simply, opening up one of them. Inside there was something that looked exactly like a hot dog, but it was green. Sans opened up a smaller packet, pouring ketchup all over it. At least the condiment was the same.

“Hey, have you got any mustard down here?” Red asked.

Sans scrunched his face up, looking like a cat that had just bitten into a lemon. Red couldn’t help but laugh. His laughter echoed off of the cave walls, and Sans’ musical little giggles joined him. Once Sans got started, Red found it harder to stop. Sans’ laughter was more infectious than any other, and the grin on his face when they finally calmed down made Red’s soul flutter a bit.

“Ah, never mind. You don’t have to answer more than that.” Red waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t really get the appeal of ketchup either, but each skeleton to his own I guess.”

Red opened up his own food, eager to get down to it. It seemed to be the usual, with a mix of various servings of aquatic plants. Red hadn’t realized it before, but he had the feeling that Sans was giving him a lot of health food to try and boost his magic. If Sans was anything like him, he might be using Red to pawn off the food he didn’t want to eat. Red would never refuse Boss’ cooking, but sometimes a guy needed more than home-cooked food every once in a while.

Red felt a slight pang as he remembered Grillby’s new place. Once they had come out of the mountain he had made a classier looking bar, with a real dance floor and some of the softest barstools Red had ever sat in. The drinks and fries were just as good as ever, and if some shady dealings happened under the table during the nightly poker games, well, that was just Grillby’s.

Red blinked as Sans waved a hand in front of his face, turning to look at Sans. Once Sans had his attention he tilted his head to the side, humming a single questioning note.

“Ah nothing, just thinking about something from up top,” Red said, pointing up at the cave ceiling.

Sans put his hand on Red’s, and the soothing hum he let out made Red’s bones feel like jelly. Red closed his eyes and enjoyed the relaxation for a few seconds, then pulled his hand away. Red wasn’t sure if he was actually learning to resist Sans’ calls, or if the guy was just being more chill now that he knew Red wasn’t going to accidentally dust himself as he tried to escape.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘m fine. No worries.” Red cracked his neck, then reached for his lunch. “Was just missing someone else’s food. No offence, of course. This stuff’s good. It’s just…” Red scrunched up his face a bit. “So healthy. I bet if I keep this up for another month, I’ll be growing broccoli instead of bones. I’ll be a bonafide vegetable man.”

Sans laughed, and Red felt his chest swell with pride. Sans’ laugh was the brightest part of his days, and Red was always chasing after it when he came to visit. The way Sans snorted a bit every time Red made a really bad pun was strangely perfect, in a weird way.

Red popped a piece of the hot dog into his mouth, watching as Sans slowly came down from his giggle fit. The dog was mostly seaweed and salt, but there were some other flavours too. A guy with a refined palate like Boss would have been able to tell what they were, but to Red they were just ‘good’.

“You can swim soon.” Sans said.

Red felt his jaw drop. He knew he must look ridiculous, but he couldn’t stop gaping at Sans. “Wait, for real? I’m gonna finally leave this cave? I’m getting out of here!”

Sans nodded. He was a bit calmer than Red, but Red could still see the excitement gleaming in his eyelights.

“Getting stronger.” Sans ran his hand over Red’s arm, in a gesture that was surely meant to be platonic. Red tried not to read it as anything else, even if Sans’ touch lingered near his shoulder for a bit too long. “I'll help with practice.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” Red chuckled a bit, rubbing the back of his skull. “One time I tried to swim when I was a kid, but I just sunk like a stone to the bottom. Even with ecto, I dunno if I’ll be able to do anything.”

Sans didn’t look concerned, though. He made a little musical hum, a central note that made Red somehow feel both relaxed and excited at the same time.

Just as Sans was opening his mouth to speak, he paused. He glanced down at the water, and clicked his tongue. Red had a feeling he knew what was up, and even though it filled him with a heavy heart, he still scooted back slightly on the ledge.

“Gotta go?” Red asked, and Sans nodded sadly. Red handed back the now-empty container, then gave Sans a single finger gun. “I’ll catch you later, alligator.”

Sans stared at him blankly for a few seconds. Red felt his soul sink a bit, and he wondered if merpeople even had alligators. Stupid human expressions, he should have just said—

“In a while, bone-a-dile.”

Red’s skull whipped up, but Sans was already gone. He still called after Sans anyways, slapping the water and demanding that he come back up and face the music for his joke. He could have sworn he heard a final giggle, but that also could have just been his imagination.

Red settled into his usual after-meal slouch, which was a slightly higher position than his usual lie-down pose. Sans had given Red something to chew on physically, but he had also given him more food for thought. Red was going to start swimming soon, which meant that he would be able to go see his brother, but also that he would have to go back to his old life…

While he liked most of what that involved, he couldn’t help worrying about Sans. Would Sans still want to hang out with him after he went back on land, or was it the same as releasing a rehabilitated animal back into its natural habitat? Red didn’t know, but he hoped that they could at least see each other sometimes. Sans was a fun dude, and it would be a shame to give him up. Family came first though; Sans had to understand that.

Red sighed, rubbing his skull. It was a wonder that he hadn’t worn his bones smooth again by now. Fuck, when had things become so complicated?

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chaosfaggot · 4 months

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TOP 10 VIDEO GAMES CONTEMPORARY TO THE HARRY POTTER BOOKS FEATURING BETTER STORIES

Video Game Stories were never significantly lower quality than other media. The idea that they were is a myth based on years of other media having snobby communities around them puffing themselves up and massively overblowing their own cultural significance and general quality and simply favored what they already understood over what they didn't. If you can look me in the eyes and tell me that Stranger in a Strange is the better Land when compared to Kirby's Dream I will either call you a liar or someone with no taste. That or like ur a boomer and ur somebody who you dont love's Dad, or something. Anyway, no narrative delivery system has had quite such a long, pretentious and systemically supported history as Books, one of the Worst of which is known to be Harry Potter, a pre-crap stained roll of toilet paper constructed by a known Shit Elemental. Here are some games contemporary to the publishing of this series of rolls who's stories compare far more favorably. Now you might say, "Isn't it kinda bad faith to compare to cream of the crop of one medium to the bottom of the barrel of another?", to which I say,

10. Diddy Kong Racing

When an alien wizard pig conquers Timber Island it's up to Diddy Kong and friends to defeat him by beating him in a race, something even the island's missing previous champion, Drumstick, could not achieve. I remember getting up in the middle of the night and sneaking more of this game because I just couldn't wait to see what challenges Wizpig had in store for me on his home planet. Also this game taught me what Gay was. No I will not elaborate but yes I am being serious.

9. Portal

Come on you don't need Me to tell you how good the game with the funny mean robot lady is we all know it was great blah blah blah cake blah blah weighted companion cube blah blah neurotoxin blah blah blah moving on

8. Sonic Adventure 2

In this one Sonic and Shadow (that's his edgy boyfriend) go Super Saiyan and the music is like "HANGIN AWN THE EEDGE O' TAMORROOOOW!!" and I forget what exactly they do but it was probably cool.

7. Mega Man X4

This was the first one where you could be the cool GNC lookin' red robot with the lightsaber. The first story of all time to ask what we're fighting for, with acting performances that put the likes of Heston and Shatner to shame.

6. Banjo-Kazooie

O, Grunty. Oh, there she is. There she goes. Oh. There's Grunty. Isn't she just so lovely? Oh, Grunty. Absolutely beautiful. My dear Grunty. Beloved by all.

5. The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask

I was maybe gonna put the much more beloved Ocarina of Time on here for its themes about the crushing experience of time's passage and how everything you take for granted as a child crumbling to ruin eventually reveals to you what is and isn't actually eternal and meaningful in this world, but this one introduced Tingle so I'm going with it instead.

4. Kirby 64: The Crystal Shards

This was the first one where you could play as King Dedede the Great in certain sections, a significant moment for the character development of one of fiction's truly legendary figures. This story is also the thrilling conclusion to the Darkmatter saga, and drops plenty of lore elements that will be important in the future such as the ruins on Rock Star and Shiver Star. Kirby doesn't care about any of that, but gets to eat plenty of food, so it's all good.

3. Star Fox 64

Check your G-Diffuser System, Use Bombs Wisely, and most importantly, Never give up, trust your instincts. Also I ship Fox and Wolf. And Fox and Falco. What is Nintendo DOING. I don't claim to really be able to find the pulse of what kind of media people actually want and enjoy but I feel like Furries in Space is kind of a sure thing

2. F-Zero GX

"In this world, you've got to be strong. You've got to fight to keep your spirit alive. And you might feel like there's nothing left to go for if I fall, but it's the fight that keeps us ready and on guard. Even now, I can feel the power. When I think of him I see no fear, feel no pain…"

Kingdom Hearts

This list finally gets hard to articulate because what can I even say about such a masterpiece. I can say, personally, that it was the game I got a PS2 for, and I never had any regrets about that. It has it all. Riku is basically the epitome of edgy, easily-manipulated, emotionally immature lancers with extreme romantic tension with the hero and basically spends the whole story except the very beginning and very end in his edgy lancer solo arc and then in later installments goes off to do more edgy lancer solo stuff. I've said edgy lancer so many times he has achieved edgy lancer fever pitch. Riku. This game also features the vocal talents of Jim Cummings, which are always pleasing to the ear. Also Goofy is there! Well, I'm certain you're convinced by now. Fucking masterpiece.

#video games #flame broiled takes #storytelling #narrative #media #top 10 #diddy kong racing #portal #sonic adventure 2 #mega man x4 #banjo kazooie #majoras mask #kirby 64 #star fox 64 #f zero gx #kingdom hearts

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my-lunaberg · 1 year

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OKAYYYYYYYY okay, Im about to watch Tommys The Last Stream vod after I go for another quick walk, after that its just Tubbos stream which is probably just the same thing but from a different pov anyway, then its just the Syndicate End vod and then its just a two minute video of Ranboos end and then Im finally free. I really wish I could do this properly on my blog instead of having to do this in my notes app but I simply cannot wait another day. Im so hopped up on adrenaline rn i dont think I can sleep tonight, especially if I dont finally finish this. Also I have therapy tomorrow when Im writing this and I need to calm tf down before I show up at the therapists office all shaky n shit because of some minecraft roleplay. Its almost 6 pm rn and I shall be free of this nightmare before the clock strikes midnight. Amen.

Tubbitch boi

I dont even have anything to say man

This is so upsetting dude

I made it through these first 15 minutes with basically no pausing and I just wanted to take a moment to appreciate that bc I just know the second that joker starts talking to Dream I'll be pausing every 5 seconds

Why the fuck does the prison look like it was under water for like a decade and now theres just barnacles n shit growing on everythinh

YOU SPIN ME RIGHT ROUND BABEY RIGHT ROUND

DREAM

Alright I took two minutes to mentally prepare myself now Im ready for this

Wait why the fuck was he just hangin out in the main cell if he wasnt even expecting Tommy. weirdo behaviour

PUNZ IS THERE AS WELL??? WERE THEY HAVING A DATE IN THE TORTURE BOX

"IM READY TO FUCKING KILL THE BOTH OF YOU"

*long uncomfortable pause*

"Uhm... okay"

It looks like Tommy is doing a good job stalling them so far so Im very curious how it goes from this to the stuff Ive read spoilers about

Ouhhhhhh I wonder how hes gonna react to that dig at Spirittttttt.........

Okay, no like verbal ouward reaction but that is what got him to start attacking Tommy

I dont think Punz will care that Tommy tried to kill himself bc of Dream, I think hed find that kinda hot

"The world doesnt fucking revolve around you"??? Bro Punz Boomer arc??? "Those darn zoomers wanting compassion and kindness after almost killing themselves

"Youre insane to think everything revolves around you" hello?? says the guy who fancies himself a god and also thinks everyone but him and his boytoy deserve to die because theyre "simple-minded"

OH NO i completely forgot, the nuke is not gonna hit them. this is allpretty much pointless

DAMN YOU JACK MANIFOLD

Okay listen, Im a huge c!Dream sympathetizer and I know this is gonna end with him being presented in a sympathetic and pitiable light and Im gonna fall for it no matter what because of course I am but like, he has been so comically awful throughout this entire finale I am not expecting this to end in an actually satisfying way at all

Oh that sly dog got him monologuing

Girl help I dont remember pre-rp dsmp well enough to tell if Dream is embellishing shit and victimizing himself or not

OKAY dream smp from Dreams pov lets gooooooo

??? what.

Bro Dream is not in his right mind hes so far away from his right mind he might as well be chillin in lmoonberg that guy is so mentally ill (source: I have like atleast 90% of his mentall illnesses for sure)

what do you MEAN "know more"???

Maybe Im just a simple minded nihilist but why does that matter man. Why die so you can "know more" when you can live and have like, a party with your buddies

Honestly, I feel like Dreams motivations are so stupid at this point, like literally just make him someone who worships XD and is favoured by him or whatever and then also have him have this morbid curiosity about the stuff beyond the server and have him try and become god while appeasing his actual god in the hopes that he'll reveal his otherworldly knowledge to him or whatever idk man

Hows Dream gonna grow old with the people he loves when he doesnt have fucking friends HAH got im

No offense but why has most of this finale been Tommy philosophically waxing about how you should accept death even though all thats waiting for you on the other side is eternal torment with Dream responding by being like "but why though?? :(" when that has like, literally nothing to do with any of the Dream SMPs themes? Like, okay, theres been a ton of storylines obviously but the two main ones are definitely Tommy vs Dream (its essentially the throughline to all this bullshit) and Wilbur, Lmanberg and every single attempt at a country after that. Because of this I would say that the dsmps themes are Cycles of Violence and Legacy and when they intersect you occasionally get glimmers of this idea of History Repeating Itself.

The Legacy theme is insanely well executed, no notes, Im in love

The Cycles of Violence theme.... less so. I'll probably make a more detailed post about this in the future since I dont wanna waste too much time with this liveblog. But I personally think that if they wanted to pull this theme off while also making Dream sympathetic, he absolutely needed to be affected by the violence he inadvertently caused and the audience needs to actually see it in atleast one (1) scene that would be impossible to twist into something unsympathetic unless you were looking at it in bad faith. Dream being thrown in jail and subsequently physically tortured wouldve been a great opportunity for this kind of stuff like, I remember lurking in the fandom around this time, this was the point where plenty of people were starting to sympathize simply because of how inhumane the prison was. Like, if they werent gonna show him break a little in front of others for their perspectives, the least they couldve done was make like, a few short videos of Dream being alone, doing whatever, you wouldnt even need dialogue and then pepper those throughout the post-prison arcs. You could have one like two or three minute video right after Tommys visit where he maybe tries writing those stupid essays out of boredom before burning them and then some potatoes plop into the pool and you really get a sense for the emptyness and isolation of it. Another good one would be one showing how Quackity tortures him, or maybe one taking place right after one of the torture seassions with him starving and shaking and maybe trying to write a log or something but failing because everything hurts. Him being in the prison after hes escaped and made it his base again, watching it slowly decay and fall apart with him in it. They really dont have to be long, again, two or three minute videos wouldve done a lot of good here imo. And then you could also sprinkle in some monologues because as much as I like to make fun of the snake monologue in my head, it did give some much needed insight into Dreams perspective on all of this while making him a bit more sympathetic.

Honestly, Dream is making some pretty reasonable points here (if you completely disregard all the context of the entire dsmp but still) but like dude, you cannot go around calling your teenage nemesis a pest that such obvious villain behaviour dude

Im not gonna lie, i thought the very last final scene between Dream and Tommy would take place in a more, idk, intimate? place. Thats not the right word but whatever I cant think of anything else that fits. But like, they absolutely do not have a reason to leave so I guess this is just gonna continue with Tommy and Dream talking in this fucked up room of this fucked up prison while Punz is also right there

Okay, I just got to the bit where Tommy says 'Im sorry' to Dream and I know a lot of people were upset by that bc they took it as him apologizing to his abusers for being 'abuse-worthy' if you wanna phrase it like that and thats not what I got from that at all. Like, its technically part of a very earnest emotional statement so his tone was kinda soft and apologetic but it really came across as an 'Im sorry you feel that way' kind of apology to me

BRUH HE JUST KILLED HIM??? WHAT

What the fuck is happening now

Is this hell.

NO ITS THE EARLY DREAM TEAM STREAMS THIS TRULY IS HELL

Oh my god please tell me this wont go on for much longer I already watched like 30 hours of these boring ass guys dicking around back in late 2020 i cannot take a second more

Bro why did they pick the part of the stream thats just Dream trying to figure out his fucking minecraft settings for this this isnt doing anything

Please bring me back I dont wanna watch this boring shit

What is ahppening

Okay they revived him, are they gonna explain why his afterlife hell is just him watching the most boring minecraft streams on planet earth

"It doesnt matter if I get horrifically traumatized because I'll just live forever :)"

Okay I think Im starting to understand Dreams motivations here a bit more and they make more sense but its like, if you care so much about eliminating suffering why did you go out of your way to torment Tommy like that in exile. Like, i know its because you did want him to be your friend at some point and maybe you still do but you didnt like how he would never listen to you so you figured itd be better to just break him down mentally but like, I dont think that would be necessary for the long term goal of eliminating all death and suffering at all so, what

Dude, he was not happy he was adjusting his minecraft settings

What if he just started sobbed. Hes all smug like "well, im happy now :)" and then the dam jist breaks. wouldnt that be grand

Hes fucking psychoanalyzing the green bitch this rules

Im sorry man I was not envisioning this emotional final scene to be accompanied by Punz occasionally saying some bullshit in the background

"George and Sapnap are still here" uh no, George literally isnt and last time we saw Sapnap he was making a deal with God to sacrifice his own life and afterlife to ensure that Dream would die and stay dead forever

Oughhhhhhh this is great I can practically smell the insecurity coming off of him rn

Oh god why is Tommy being like "you just wanted things to be simple [like they were in the past]" giving me a more complete understanding of myself as well this sucks I dont wanna be a c!Dream kinnie anymore >:(

I dont think Tommy is wrong about what hes saying abt Dream at all here and I think this is a smart angle to focus on for making Dream seem more sympathetic but right now I definitely feel like its missing the crucial element of "yes, Dream just wants friends, friends who will do what he wants with minimal resistance because hes a control freak" yknow? Like, his need for absolute control all the time is one of his most prominent traits and him wanting to gain some understanding and control of death and other things beyond his comprehension actually lines up quite nicely with that, its just kinda getting muddled with Dreams statements about wanting to make everything better. Granted, he probably wouldnt want to admit that his version of "making everything better" is just making everyone listen to him bc hes god basically but still, I think his control freakiness needs to get addressed more explicitly and maybe it will be, weve still hot a few minutes but ehhhhh. I doubt it

Honestly, ive grown to like Punz quite a bit eventhough he really hasnt done much but like, why the fuck is he here

I realize that the dialogue in dsmp is always overwhelmingly improv but its just so odd and kinda bad in this conversation. I think its because out of context, the way both Dream and Tommy are phrasing things makes it seem like they were on more equal footing and both suffered equally during their conflict when thats just not the case and Im not a fan

I think Ill tentatively take back all the stuff I said about how Dream shouldve been a worshipper of XD but i still think its a neat concept so I'll probably do something with that later

Oh god why did they do that crown, Dreams skin already looks bad and silly enough. Oh well I take solace in knowing that all the fanart of this scene probably slaps

OH I FORGOR ABOUT THE NUKES

Punz is still there is he gonna say anything about the nuke thats about to hit

Lookat these guys, never heard a nuke about to hit before

Ohhhhhhh I thought that previous 'sorry' was the one Ive seen people upset about, but Im pretty sure its actually this one

Honestly, I still dont see why you would be upset about it outside of the fact that it is an abuse victim apologizing to his abuser but its like, idk man. I dont think a piece of media featuring a scene where that happens within a very specific context is doing abuse apologism, although I guess a lot of people would argue that the fact that Tommy is even reaching out to Dream after everything he did is abuse apologism and. Im not even gonna try to argue with them. I'll just say that I disagree and try to explain my perspective in some amount of detail, this will get pretty personal though, so watch out:

I was recently semi-diagnosed with a personality disorder and i probably have a bunch of other bullshit going on as well and not to armchair diagnose a fictional character but c!Dream definitely has that personality disorder and whatever other shit thats hiding inside my weird brain. His irrational, defensive thought processes, his contradictionary wants, his persistent need for control, his detached nature, his manipulation, the way he uses actual emotional pain as a tool for manipulation while keeping that pain at an arms length, even his weird monotone way of speaking, I relate to all of it. I have seen and related to a lot of mentally ill and neurodivergent and neurodivergent-coded characters and I have never felt as seen as now. He embodies my worst qualities turned up a few notches to make them even worse and then he has a weird god complex on top of all of that and yet, he still ends up being given sympathy, someone tries to understand him and offers him help. And idk, that just means a lot to me so I look at this whole thing a bit differently.

Also, while I get why some people are upset and I get peoples desire to critize this from a Doylist perspective because real people came up with this story in real life and that still has implications, even when the line between fiction and reality is thick enough to be considered a wall, from a Watsonian in-universe perspective its like, Dream is not a bad person for accepting help (or trying to accept help) when its being freely offered to him

Okay wait but if the nuke still hit the prison and blew everything to shit what the hell did Jack do when he rewired the redstone at the launch thingy. Is the prison that close to the main smp I dont remember

Oh man this is gonna take a hot second huh

Okay we're back in Minecraft, Tommys punching a tree

I hate the fact that Tommy doesnt atleast punch the entire tree down before making a crafting table

OKAY IT IS DONE

I was gonna finish the whole series today but its almost 11pm and I a sleepy gal so i'll watch Tubbos pov tomorrow and the Syndicate vod and all that and also I'll probably give my thoughts on the ending in more detail after that. Right now I dont think I cant bare to write any more man, I just wrote like three or four decently detailed (for me) analyses about fucking bullshit basically in a row, my head literally hurts

So yeah, goodnight I'll be hopefully posting all of these posts tomorrow and I'll hopefully be peoperly liveblogging everything again

#livebloggin dsmp #c!dream #c!tommy

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dumdumsun · 3 years

Text

And Dusk

A/N: It's family dinner time, babes!!

Warnings: none that I'm aware of

Word Count: 3629

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Chapter 12: Team Zero

Striding into the steam-clouded sauna where the two remaining Swedish assassins now silently relaxed, The Handler began an unprompted conversation in their language. “All the new age remedies out there, but nothing beats a good schvitz when it comes to stress,” As she sat on the bench, the two men carefully watched her. “My job can be stressful, sure. But I can’t imagine what it must be like for you boys.” She batted her eyelashes.

“Do we know you?” The Swede, who appeared to be the leader, questioned. The Handler kept her head turned forward as she stared down.

“No. But I know all about you,” Standing from the bench, she quietly chuckled and walked to the center of the sauna, the steam crawling its way up to her neck. “However, seems you’ve run into some problems on this job.”

“Just a snag.” He tilted his head.

“You lost your brother. I’d call that more than a snag.”

Snapping, the second Swede pushed off the wall and marched up to The Handler. Before he could get too close, he grunted when she grabbed hold of his manhood, freezing his steps. She watched as his mouth fell open in pain. “What if I can give you the location of the knife-hurling dolt responsible for blowing up your beloved brother?”

The first Swede tilted his head. “Who are you?”

“Somebody you’re going to want to know.” Her eyes never left the man she was assaulting. The second Swede finally found the breath within him to speak.

“Unharm my weiner.” He wheezed in English, The Handler kindly doing as he asked, a smile on her face. He sighed and stepped away as his brother held up the hand that had been twirling a knife the entire time.

“Go on.”

At his words, she turned to him. “I’ll give you the exact location of the one you’re looking for. Diego. The rest… I’ll leave up to your imaginations.”

“What’s in it for you?”

“Let’s just say that his little game of ‘Hide the Sausage’ with my daughter needs a swift end. I just have one request,” The Handler approached the first Swede, the two in close proximity now. He watched her every move. “Don’t hurt the little one with the cute socks… and the other with the face scars.”

Lifting his chin, he furrowed his brows. “We’ve already killed her.” He mumbled. She only chuckled in amusement, the two men stiffening at the realization that their target may not have been executed like they thought.

-------------------------------------------------

The clicking of Reginald and (Y/N)’s shoes against the marble floor echoed throughout the hallway they walked down. The young girl was desperately trying to keep up with her father’s long strides, her puppy in her arms and her heart beating out of her chest. If they had actually complied, she was going to reveal her true whereabouts for the past two years to her family. They were going to know that the entire time they had been looking for Reginald, she was living under the same roof as him. No matter how many times she swallowed the lump in her throat, it always swelled right back up. “D-Dad, who are these people we’re having dinner with?”

“These people have been nothing but a nuisance to me.”

Her mind flashed back to the night of the gala. Diego had been there with Five. They were there for Reginald, to find out his intentions with the president. To find out what he was doing in Dallas in the first place. Reginald was a secretive man, he didn’t even let Grace or (Y/N) into his office unless he was present as well. Her stomach twisted in knots of anxiety the closer they approached the door to the tiki lounge. When Reginald stopped just before the doors, he turned to his daughter and lowered his voice. “When we enter, you are to sit and remain silent. Do not speak to them, do not interact with them. Sit and shut your mouth unless I tell you otherwise. And your pet remains on the floor or in your lap. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.” She whispered and held Mr Pennycrumb close to her chest, the pup quietly panting and licking her cheek. That seemed to be enough for Reginald, for he nodded and turned forward, slamming the door open and marching into the lounge.

The Hargreeves stood dumbfounded at their father as he headed straight to the table they surrounded, not a word leaving his mouth. None of them had expected to see him ever again, especially not after the funeral they had attended back in 2019. But what they really didn’t expect to see was (Y/N) right behind him, her eyes avoiding them as she absentmindedly pat Mr Pennycrumb under his chin. She especially avoided looking at Five, whose jaw was dropped upon her appearance. The real kick was when Reginald pulled out a chair and motioned for her to sit. Without even a peep, she sat down and allowed him to scoot her closer to the table before taking his own seat. The five blinked once before taking their own seats at the table.

“Not only have you burglarized my lab, set my chimp loose, conned your way into the Mexican consulate, repeatedly stalked and attacked not only me, but my daughter as well, but you have, on numerous occasions, called me-”

Klaus joined the table with a grunt, a martini in his hand. “Hey, Pop. How’s it hangin’?”

“-‘Dad’,” Reginald gave everyone a once over as (Y/N) shifted uncomfortably under the stares of her family. “My reconnaissance tells me you’re not CIA, not KGB, certainly not MI5, so… who are you?”

(Y/N) watched as they all glanced at each other, opening their mouths to answer, but quickly closing them instead. This went on for a few seconds before Five decided to do it, “We’re your children. We’re from the future. In 1989, you adopted us all and trained us to fight against the end of the world. Called us the Umbrella Academy.”

Reginald turned his head from left to right, frowning at each individual. “Why on earth would I adopt six-”

“Eight. One of us isn’t here.” Allison clasped her hands together on the table.

“Dead,” Diego muttered, his head bowed down. “One of us is dead.”

“And the eighth?” Reginald questioned. (Y/N) cleared her throat and began to speak, but stopped when he sent a cold glare her way. “What did we talk about?”

She quickly shook her head. “No, I… I’m the eighth. I’m also your child from the future. You just… got me very early this time-”

“(Y/N), it is not the time for your games-”

“It’s not a game! W-Why do you think I’ve been leaving my dates with Preston to be with them?” At the words ‘dates’ and ‘Preston’, Five leaned forward, eyes narrowed at his love. She glanced at him apologetically and shook her head. Reginald was just about to scold her yet again, but she rolled the sleeve of her shirt up to reveal the umbrella tattoo on her left arm. “Did you forget about this?”

“Yeah, ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba. Enough of that now.” Klaus hissed and turned behind him. Everyone froze and stared at him in confusion. Turning forward again, he simply motioned for Reginald to continue. Uneasy, he did just that.

“Regardless,” His gaze turned back to Five. “What would possess me to adopt… seven ill-mannered malcontents?”

“We all have special abilities.” The boy answered.

“Special? In what sense?”

(Y/N) set her pet on the ground and sat up in her seat. “In the superpowered sense.” She raised her brows. Reginald sighed and clenched his jaw.

“My child, if you do not stay out of this as we agreed, I am going to have to send you to the car with your mother-”

“Dad! I am being so serious when I tell you I am one of them!”

“Well, call me old-fashioned, but I’m a stickler for a pesky little thing called evidence,” He turned back to the table. “Show me. All of you.”

Allison scoffed and adjusted the straw in her drink. “Everybody wants to see powers all of a sudden…”

“We’re not circus animals, okay?” Luther spoke. “We’re not gonna bounce balls on our noses and clap our hands like seals for your amusement-”

As if on cue, Diego launched a knife across the table, zipping around Reginald’s head and pinning itself into the pillar behind him. The seven leaned in and watched as the man clicked his pen and began writing in his journal. “What are you writing?” Diego asked. Reginald glanced up at him.

“You are zero for two, young man.” He quipped, Allison sputtering her drink before Diego jumped up from his seat in anger. To prevent anything disastrous from occurring, Five stood and blinked in front of his brother, halting his movement and whispering a ‘stop!’ to him. “Now, that is interesting.” Reginald muttered.

Five sighed and headed back towards his seat. “Alright, uh, quick rundown. Luther: super strength. Klaus can commune with the dead. Allison can rumor anyone to do anything.”

“Except she never uses it.” Diego muttered. Allison removed her lips from her straw and sent a tight-lipped smile towards her brother.

“I heard a rumor… you punched yourself in the face.”

Against his will, Diego rammed his fist into his face, crying out and groaning in pain immediately after. Klaus reached over and tried to comfort him as (Y/N) and Vanya ducked their heads down to hide their smiles. Reginald glanced over at the latter. “And you?”

Luther placed a hand on his sister’s arm with a smile. “Uh, maybe we don’t take Vanya for a test run.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s probably not a good idea.” Klaus sat back in his chair.

“It’s fine,” Vanya shrugged, reaching for a fork. “I can handle it.” And despite her siblings’ protests, she tapped the fork against her glass. A high-pitched tone rang and shook the table. (Y/N) held her breath as she waited for the worst. A beat later, the bowl of fruit in the center of the table exploded, chunks of fruit splattering against everyone’s clothes and faces. (Y/N) tried to dodge as Mr Pennycrumb jumped into her lap, happily licking the food from her scarred cheeks and chin.

Reginald sighed along with his future children as he handed his only actual daughter a napkin to clean herself. Adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves, he side-eyed her. “Alright, my child, show me.”

Not even hesitating, (Y/N) stood and placed her pup in her father’s lap, despite his clear distaste, and straightened her clothes. “Alright. So, I can clone myself. To both summon and dismiss these clones, I have to sing two distinct three-note tunes.” To prove her point, she ‘ooh’ed her first tune, her clone appearing from her shadow, standing with a blank stare. Reginald raised his brows and began writing in his journal. “These clones not only share a conscience with me, but function as muscle and spies.”

“Spies?” Reginald frowned.

“They’re able to record their memories for me to look over in my own mind. Over the past year, I’ve come to learn that I can view these memories in real time. They also function to fulfill any task I command them.” Turning to her clone, she placed her hands on her hips. “Pick up Pennycrumb’s leash,” She commanded, the clone immediately doing as it was told. “I’ve also recently learned that I can give them the ability to talk. But if I wanted to… oh, I don’t know… attend a date with a certain boy without actually being there, I can project my consciousness into its body.”

After taking a seat, (Y/N) immediately slumped in her chair, unconscious. The clone beside her perked up and blinked twice before turning to Reginald. The man leaned forward to inspect it, but jumped back when it spoke. “But if something prevents my clones from fulfilling their task, they will start to self-destruct after twelve hours if said task isn’t completed. This is done by tearing into its own flesh and ripping itself apart.”

At this, everyone shivered.

“Right. It’s terrifying,” The clone returned to its blank and empty shell before (Y/N) raised her head. “And to dismiss, I hum the tune from earlier in its descending order.” She demonstrated said tune, the clone disappearing into her shadow. Mr Pennycrumb excitedly jumped from Reginald to her lap, nuzzling into her arm. “Any questions, Dad?”

Reginald was hastily scribbling into his journal. “Extraordinary. Absolutely extraordinary… And even more so that you’ve managed to keep this power from me for over a year.” He whispered. Turning her head, she caught Five’s proud smile. She winked at him as Diego stood from his seat.

“Look, we know that you’re involved in a plot to assassinate the president.”

“You were recently hospitalized, isn’t that correct? You still appear to be suffering from delusions of grandeur and acute paranoia.”

“Am I?” Diego reached into his back pocket and slid a picture over to his father. “Explain this. That’s you. That’s two days from now on the grassy knoll at the exact spot the president’s gonna get shot.”

Reginald picked up the photo and scanned it before his eyes moved to his daughter, the girl slightly shrinking under his gaze. Receiving his answer to the question he was to ask her, he turned back to Diego and set the photo down. “Well… I suppose you’ve solved it. You’ve single-handedly unearth my nefarious plot,” The smile Diego wore slowly faded. “Is that what you want to hear? You fancy yourself a do-gooder? The last good man who will save us from our descent into corruption and conspiracy? This is a fantastic delusion.” The more Reginald tore into him, the lower Diego sat himself into his chair until his lips were quivering and a tear slid down his cheek. “The sad reality is that you’re a desperate man, tragically unaware of his own insignificance, desperately clinging to his own ineffectual reasoning. More succinctly, a man in over his head.”

“Y-Y-You’re wr… wrong.” Diego stuttered. (Y/N) shakily inhaled and slammed her hand onto the table, alerting the rest of her siblings.

“Don’t you ever talk to him like that!”

“And you!” Reginald whirled to his daughter, the girl flinching a bit. “You have done nothing but deceive me! I half expect you to tell me that the man you chose over Preston sits among us!”

(Y/N)’s gaze instantly found Five’s. His green orbs were pleading, begging her to say it.

Tell him. Tell him you love me. Shout it from the rooftops, promise that you’ll always believe in us. Tell him.

But she couldn’t. Not when her doubts sealed her lips shut and casted her eyes away from him. The siblings stared between the two, heartbroken for their situation. Seeing that she chose to be ashamed, Five nodded and cleared his throat to speak. “Look, forget about the president. We have a catastrophic war coming in five days. We need to figure out how to stop it.”

“War?” Reginald looked away from his daughter and to the boy across from him. “Men will always be at war with each other.”

“No, this isn’t just some war. I’m talking about a doomsday. The end of the world.”

“Well,” Reginald muttered after a beat of silence. “You’re the special ones, aren’t you? Why don’t you band together and do something about it?”

Expecting much, much more than that, all seven of them frowned. This was what Reginald wanted from the start, for them to come together as the Umbrella Academy and prevent the end of the world. But it had been almost two weeks and two apocalypses managed to form due to their actions. That was why they couldn’t.

Grunting, Klaus suddenly raised both his arms in the air and shook uncontrollably, choking out gasps and jerking his body. (Y/N) gasped and slowly reached out to him.

“Is he having a seizure?”

“Overdosing, probably…”

“Should we do something?”

Whipping her head to Luther, (Y/N) widened her eyes. “Yes!” She shouted before turning back to Klaus as he shuddered. “Shit, what if he is overdosing?!”

“Klaus,” Five leaned over and whispered. “Now is not the time. What are you doing?”

Gurgling, Klaus turned his body to Reginald, face contorted in discomfort. “I’m… Ben!” He gasped out before falling to the ground, panting and groaning. (Y/N) rushed to his side and placed a hand on his forehead.

“Klaus? Are you okay? Can you hear me?” She whispered as he reached up and weakly wrapped a hand around her wrist. Reginald looked from Klaus, to (Y/N), then to his journal before he gathered his things.

“Well… thank you for coming,” He stood from his chair and began to walk away, stepping over Klaus’s body. “I’ve seen about enough. Come along, (Y/N), your mother is waiting for us.”

A loud slam sounded, causing everyone in the room to turn to Luther, who stood and ripped his buttoned shirt open. (Y/N) covered her mouth when he revealed his discolored bare chest and abdomen. “Look at what you did to me! Look at it!”

As the siblings groaned and gawked, Reginald simply turned his attention to Five. “You in the culottes. A word, in private? (Y/N), to the car. This instant.”

“Yes, sir.” She whispered before giving Klaus a kiss on the forehead and standing to her feet. Five walked by her side in silence until they had to split ways. Reginald turned to the both of them, and just when (Y/N) was going to turn out of the lounge, Five grabbed her by the shoulders and pressed a kiss to her lips. Gasping, the girl brushed her fingertips over her lips as her face burned. She watched Reginald for a reaction, but he only motioned for her to leave. “Bye, Five.” She grinned behind her hand and hurried away.

“This way, boy.” Reginald brought Five’s attention back to him, leading the two of them to the bar. After they took their seats and he ordered their drinks, Reginald turned to his future son. “You seem to be the sensible one of the bunch.”

“That’s because I’m the oldest,” Five nodded, Reginald tilting his head. “You know, technically, I’m older than you right now.”

Reginald turned forward when the bartender set down a bottle in front of him. “Cognac?”

“Just a smidge.” Five slightly smiled. As he poured their drinks, Reginald started their subject of conversation.

“The other night, you quoted Homer at me. Why?”

Five shifted in his seat and straightened his blaser. “You forced us all to learn it as kids. In the original Greek, no less.” He raised his brows before a glass was passed to him. He and his father did a silent cheer before he took a gulp of it. The entire situation was so jarring to the boy, but as he said before, he didn’t choose this life. He’s just living it. For the next few days, anyway. “This world ends in five days if we don’t get out of the timeline.”

“Worlds end. Paleozoic, Jurassic, and so on.”

“We can do something about this one.”

“Man’s greatest flaw: the illusion of control.”

The boy frowned. “I need your help. Alright? You’re my last sane option. Otherwise, I gotta make a deal that I really don’t wanna make. What do you know about time travel?”

“In theory?”

“In practice.”

Reginald hummed. “I know it’s akin to descending blindly into the depths of freezing waters and reappearing-”

“-as an acorn. Yeah.” Five finished with a sigh.

“What transpired when you tried traveling before?”

The boy blinked and shook his head as he looked away. “I botched it…”

“How?”

“I jumped too far forward, got stuck in the future for forty-five years in an apocalypse. Then I jumped too far backwards… except this time, I brought my entire family with me.”

Reginald tapped his fingers against the bar as he clicked his tongue. “Including (Y/N)?” He questioned, receiving a nod in answer. “Well, maybe your appetite is disproportionate to the size of your abilities. Start small. Seconds, not decades.”

“Seconds?” Five widened his eyes. “Look, no offense, but I need a bit more time for what I’m trying to accomplish here.”

“So much can change in a matter of seconds. One can overthrow an empire,” His eyes moved from Five to the doorway (Y/N) had been standing in seconds ago unbeknownst to Five. “One could fall in love. An acorn doesn’t become an oak overnight.”

Five swallowed, his expression that of defeat. “I was really hoping you had more than that.”

“I’m sorry I can’t be of more help…”

Five shook his head slightly. “I’m sorry, too. I gave you such a hard time as a kid… I didn’t know any better.”

Humming, Reginald glanced down before raising his glass. “No skin off my teeth, old man.” He smiled before drinking. Five sighed and downed the rest of his drink before standing from his seat. “One more thing.”

“What is it?” Five turned back to his father, freezing at the cold look he had been giving him.

“It would be best… if you refrained from courting (Y/N).”

A pang going through his chest, Five rapidly blinked and stepped back. “W-What…?”

“Your relationship is not healthy,” Reginald stood from his stool and began walking past the boy. “And besides…”

Five clenched his fists as his father walked towards the exit of the tiki lounge.

“I have plans for her.”

—————————————

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#the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #umbrella academy x reader #tua #tua fanfic #tua five #tua x reader #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #number five #number five x reader #five x reader #of starlight #and dusk

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peachysnzs · 3 years

Text

self-indulgent homest/uck snzfic

omg i literally entirely forgot i wrote a snzfic already a bit ago... its so self indulgent and messy writing wise and also homest/uck but uploading just in case

okok short debrief for context, karkat is a troll, dave is a human that can fly long story, matesprit is romantic partner, and trickster mode is a mode where ppl get drunk/high off a specific lolipop and have little to no restraint of themselves + gives them bright colors

// mess, intentional contagion

“h-hehh…eH’tchIUh!!!”

Karkat paused from reading his book. That... was a sound that sounded suspiciously like Dave sneezing. Hesistantly, he pushed himself up, walking out of his room and peering into Dave’s room. After all, he had no idea if the pitiful human was sick or not. What kind of matesprit would he be if he didn’t even check?

Dave’s room was empty. Which was odd. Karkat could’ve sworn he said he was going to be in there for the day, though he didn’t explain why, where the fuck did he head off to? It’s not like their joint house was big or anything. Where the hell was that nookwhi-

Something that sounded… almost like giggling rang through the air.

What the fuck.

It sounded like it came from behind Karkat, and he quickly whirled around, but not fast enough. He saw something that almost looked like a flash, a flash of bright colors and cheery pastels, before it vanished in the blink of the ganderbulbs. Like said before, what the fuck.

A sniffle. Alright, thats too much.

Karkat whirled around, shouting “Dave, what the FUCK is going on??”, not really caring for his dignity much in the moment. It had to be Dave. This was a prank or some bullshit. And then slowly, following the noise, his eyes trailed up. Up….up…up….

Dave Strider was currently floating in the air, dreamily staring down at him and just barely grazing the surface of the ceiling, adorned with mint-green hair, a pastel pink-and-yellow god tier outfit, and red, thick gunk dripping steadily out of his flushed nose as he grinned at him. Holy fucking shit, who the fuck was this and what had they done to Dave?

A vague memory registered in the back of Karkat’s mind, of Dirk mentioning how some candy made everyone insane and go Trickster mode as their outfits and demeanor became more…colorful. How the fuck did Dave go Trickster mode??? How the fuck does that work???

“hey karkles hows it hangin? cmon dudeee lighten up a lil, your expression is s-so… hiH’TCHUh! so shocked right now” Dave drawled. As he sneezed, he lazily spread his hand over his nose, catching half of the snot in it and letting the rest of the bright red concocture mist the floor beneath him, which included Karkat. Karkat could feel the wet moisture on his skin, and he shuddered, stepping back.

“Dave, what the fuck??? Gog, fucking cover your mouth, are you contagious?? Get down, now.” Karkat spat out, exasperated at how nonchalant the imposter was. Dave simply laughed at him. “me? contagious? nah im fineeee”

Dave sniffled again, the sound much more wet than previously, and rubbed his fist against his nose, smearing the red gunk all over his hand. He smirked as he slowly withdrew his hand, spreading his fingers experimentally and watching the red mucus web between his slender fingers, glistening. “totally not contagious at all” he fibbed.

Karkat could only watch in horror as Dave slowly flew down, feet clicking against the tiled floor. “hey karkitty i do-hihh…n’t k-know about you…” His expression screwed up for a second, as he fought to calm his hitching breaths. After a moment, Dave’s grin returned to his face, and with a face smeared with germ-laden gunk, he purred. “but i feel like making out right now.”

Karkat found his voice again, and he stumbled back a few more steps. “Holy shit, no- are you even *hearing* yourself, Dave??? You’re sick, you can’t-you can’t just pretend you’re not, what the fuck??? Dave, I-“

Dave leaned forward and nipped at Karkat’s neck and he whimpered.

He could feel it. The wet mess dripping onto his neck, as Dave gave a shallow sniff and as his breath hitched even more, the vibrations against his skin, Dave’s saliva intermingling with the rest of the shit getting onto his neck as he sucked gently and gave him a hickey. The sensation was so taboo and revolting it was almost…

Dave leaned back, expression contorted. His narrow eyes seemed to almost stare through Karkat, and he paused, before, oh, fuck, it sunk in. “g-ghh- gonna…sn-heHh..eeze!-“ he forced out, and even as he was about to fucking sneeze, he still managed a wavering smirk as he tried to stare down at Karkat. It didn’t even look like he was trying to pull away, if anything, he had leaned forward, leaving only a few inches between them as he used his finger to gently guide Karkat’s chin up.

Speaking of which, Karkat felt himself frozen in place, too shocked by how quickly everything had just happened to dodge the incoming flood. “heh-HE’tchIU! hihh..hih..h’tsHIU!!” The lazy covering that Dave had done before wasn’t even present. Dave sneezed freely and openly on Karkat, and Karkat instinctively shut his eyes, feeling the contagious mist against his skin. Dave wasn’t done yet, though.

Karkat could only open his eyes for a second, seeing a strand of snot dangling from Dave’s nose as he leaned his head back, right before Dave went back to sneezing. “EH’tchu! Hi’hishuu!! Ehtchuu! hih..ih-HISSHU!!” Sneeze after sneeze, rapidfire. Fuck, it was disgusting, but Karkat’s face felt soaked, totally fucking decimated after Dave’s sneezing fit that he didn’t even bother covering. Was this his plan? What the fuck??? Realizing that he hasn’t breathed at all during all that, Karkat let in a shaky breath, and then immediately regretted it as it set in that he probably just breathed in more of the shit.

Shuddering, he quickly wiped off his face, cringing as he saw the red fluid coating his sleeve. Holy shit, how much even was that? “D-Dave, what the fuck-“ Karkat started, but Dave cut him off with a smile. “dont worry im not contagious karkitty. now about the makeouts…” Dave reached up to cup his cheek and run his thumb against Karkat’s lip, and Karkat went pale as he remembered the web of wet gunk between his fingers. Oh goddamnit, he had just wiped his face.

Deep down, he knew wiping his face did nothing.

“We know that’s fucking bullshit. Are you trying to get me sick?!? I-I’m not going to make-out with you, not when- ah-“ Karkat started, and then Dave shut him up by licking a stripe up the hickey he had given him earlier.

Dave let his red eyes fall upon Karkat’s. His red nose dripping, glistening, eyes narrowed, mouth curled up like a cheshire cat, he leaned forward and whispered in Karkat’s ear, the congestion in his voice evident “karkat. lets entertain the thought i am contagious, ok?” Karkat shivered, but this time in an entirely different context.

“its too late for you. from the first sneeze, from the moment i got this cold, you were doomed. even if you tried to leave” He giggled, deliriously. “i already sneezed into your pillows, to let these theoretical germs have home there too. sharing is caring, right? and you’re going to get this cold…hih…” Karkat stared, dumbfounded. Dave leaned back from his ear, and placed a finger gently on Karkat’s nose, tracing the edges. “i-in here.”

a pause, and then a grin.

“so-hiHh- s-so why try to…t-to avoid…ihh…hiH’TSHIUU!! eh’tsHIU!!” Dave’s head snapped forward. His sneezes were getting more wet, and mucus sprayed onto his face, leaving wet stains on his sweatshirt. Karkat couldn’t even process what was going on any more. And then, Dave gently leaned forward, stopping just before his lips. “just enjoy it.” The taboo of it all… the seductive gleam in Dave’s eyes…Dave’s erection pressing against his leg… the most obvious fact that Dave was into this (and that they probably had to had a talk later, jesus, openess about kinks was important)…God, it was too much.

Karkat’s may or may not have leaned forward to meet his lips.

And well, if Karkat let Dave shove his tongue into his mouth, if he let Dave sniffle and sneeze onto him, damning him and most definitely ensuring he’d be just as snotty and disgusting as him later, if he did, well, nobody had to know.

#snzfic #snez #snz #sneeze kink #sickstuck #sneezestuck #peachywrites #god ok rereading this was a trip lemme tell u #mess #contagion

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kurooskorner · 4 years

Text

not so bad࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

warnings: just a small filler + a LONG bonus!

bonus:

a/n before the bonus starts:

the song below was made by Kelsy Karter and all rights are reserved to her! she made the song so please give it a listen, I am only using it in this fic, and I do not own it whatsoever!! thank you now enjoy! - angie <3

*video begins*

Y/N (in frame): "I was crying at three am and I told myself fuck it, write about something that makes you happy, not about some stupid boy who broke your heart! He doesn't deserve it, and my mind thought back to the video that Kuroo had posted earlier that day and low and behold I had my idea!"

*genius intro music plays*

Interviewer (off camera): "Tell us how the song "Kuroo" came to be and who produced it."

Y/N (in frame): "Kuroo was produced by my amazing friend Tsukishima and the video was filmed by my awesome production crew! It was all super secretive too, we had to get a remote spot to film in with the band and also have everyone sworn to secrecy about the song because I didn't want anyone to know about it whatsoever."

Interviewer (off camera): "So you told no one? Just your friend Tsukishima?"

Y/N (in frame): "Yeah pretty much, he took the idea and ran with it and honestly he thought I was really stupid but hey he works for me." *throws a wink to where tsukki is sitting*

Tsukki (off camera): "I wish I didn't."

Interviewer (off camera): "Alright let's role with verse one!"

*cut to the insert of verse one intro*

Verse 1

I blacked out,

passed out,

first time we met.

Y/N: "At the time I had never met him, like ever."

It wasn't drugs,

could be love,

but it's probably sex.

Y/N: "Yeah the Kuroo stan were NOT happy about that line..."

I'm thinkin 'bout you

(Na-na-na, na-na-na, na-na-na-na)

Cool stare, greased hair around your eye,

I wanna take a dirty picture,

send it to your mind,

I'm not just think 'bout you

(Na-na-na, na-na-na, na-na-na-na)

Y/N: "What can I say, man has some cool fucking hair, like it defies the laws of gravity. As for the dirty picture line...hahahaha welll ummm I have nothing to say for that except that I will never live it down, ever."

*stares at camera with shamed look*

PRE-CHORUS

I'll treat you better than

the girls you're hangin out with,

Take you to heaven and I'll show

you all around it,

I'll never ever let you down,

Ooooooh

Y/N: "I just wanted to let him know that I'm like the coolest person on the planet *sad smile* and that he should totally hang with me instead of people that'll make him sad!"

CHORUS

Kuroo!

I'm gonna make you love me!

You're gonna make me breakfast!

It's a secret just between us,

we can keep it low-key!

I ain't bein funny!

You should be so lucky,

To put your, your velvet arms around me!

Ooh, ooh

I'm g-g-g-g-gonna make you love me!

Ooh ooh

So put your, put your, put your arms around me.

Y/N: "Whew hehe so like that was a lot but anyways let's talk about it. I really just wanted to pour my heart out and I did just that with these lyrics, and honestly have you seen that mans arms? Please hug me and keep me warm, please."

Verse 2

Yeah, I'm staring at you in

the magazines every day,

Feel like I'm seventeen,

Never been touched this way,

I'm thinking 'bout you

(Na-na-na, na-na-na, na-na-na-na)

Y/N: "No clue what was going through my head for that line, but hey it works!"

PRE-CHORUS

I'll treat you better than the boys you're hangin' out with,

Take you to heaven

And I'll show you all around it,

I'll never ever let you down,

Ooh

Y/N: "Hey I don't know what he's into so I wanted to like no you know, assume!"

CHORUS (X2)

Kuroo!

I'm gonna make you love me!

You're gonna make me breakfast!

It's a secret just between us

We can keep it low-key

I ain't being funny!

You should be so lucky

To put your, put your velvet arms around me

Ooh, ooh

I'm g-g-g-g-gonna make you love me

Ooh, ooh

Y/N: "Fun fact actually, Tsukki handed me a fake letter of resignation when I sent him the lyrics, with a message that said "No." And that's all, funny joke to be honest."

Tsukki ( behind the camera eating a piece of strawberry cake): "It wasn't a joke, I wanted to resign but she refused my letter of resignation."

Verse 3

Oh, Kuroo, Kuroo

Mmmm, Kuroo

Oh, baby, I'm gonna make you love me

Yeah

So put your, put your, put your arms around me

I'm gonna make you love me

You're gonna make me breakfast

It's a secret just between us

We can keep it low-key

I ain't being funny

You should feel so lucky

I'm gonna, I'm gonna

Gonna, gonna make you love me

Kuroo!

Y/N: "My honest takeaway from this song was really, do what makes you happy and don't be afraid to move on from the past. I knew writing this song I would be seen as something I'm not but it was all for shits and giggles, I never actual meant anything in it you know? It was simply to get my mind off of an ex, I wasn't going to even have it produced or made into a music video but I said why not and did it anyways and I'm really glad I did!"

*genius outro plays*

Y/N: "Yeah I had to find a bunch if cats to have on set for the music video, good thing I knew a guy because I without him I don't think we would have gotten as many as we did on such short notice."

*video ends*

masterlist

taglist: @chaoticalybiased @anejuuuuoy @saturnfarie @miyayassy @aquzairus @gxrleexis-arctic-monks @curiouslilbeast @chokemelevi @airheadpillar @tetsuswhore @kiristanfirsthuman2nd @kukki-tsukki @krxstynnn @httpglxssy @otaku-fangirlse @peachacolada @tsumuboke @thathoneybee3 @xoxsly-bluexox

if you'd like to be added to the taglist send me an ask or message! <333

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minthysugamon · 3 years

Text

Why'd you only call me when you're high? (J.JK x Reader)

Drummer! Jungkook x Manager's daughter! Reader.

Warnings: Mentions of sex,drugs and alcohol. Usage of foul language (like in most of my writings bc i talk like a roadman). Friends with benefits type of relationship. Kinda angsty but also fluffy if you search for the fluff with a magnifying glass.

Word count: 2222 (hehe,angel number go brr)

A/N: I promise,i will try to do some smut but i don't feel comfy enough to write it bc idk...i just cringe when i see my writing. So sorry if it isn't what you guys expect...

3:03 am

Your phone buzzed once again. It was for the 6th time tonight in a row,so even without looking at the device,it was safe to assume that the rockstar your dad managed was probably at some pub,hammered and not even being able to call a cab for himself so he called your number. Like usual. 3:04 am. It rang again. "What? It better be an emergency cause i swear to god if you're calling because you're dru-" his laugh was as intoxicating as the liquor he had sipped on some minutes ago. "Doll,listen...i need a ride...and since your dad is our manager,it would be greatly appreciated if you came for me..." a sigh left your lips as you hang up on him.

But Jungkook didn't stop pestering you. The drummer of V2J was a pain in the ass. As shy and awkward he was in his sober times,his horndog behaviour was equalising if not surpassing his normal behaviour when he was thrashed.

You picked up the call one more time when the familiar ringtone went off. "Hey,why are you so rude,dollface? Don't you know hangin-" your words cut off his as soon as he was trying to do his monologue. "Jungkook. Like how you said it so cleverly,MY DAD is the manager. Not me. Pester him at 3 am if you have some difficulties to go home,not his daughter. Thank you. I have an exam in two days, i have to study tomorrow. Or today because at this point of the night i can't say tomorrow,so let me get the 2 hours of sleep i could still get tonight if i go to sleep in less than 10 minutes.. Leave me alone. Call Taehyung or something,i don't care. Now please don't call me again. Thanks." Then the tune of the "Hang Up" option resonated in your room once again.

Truth be told, if it would've been the first time he calls you and asks you for help at 3 in the morning,you would've helped his dumbass out,but it wasn't the case. Whenever Jungkook had some nightly problems, you were the first target in his contact list. It wasn't the first time he called you to pick him up from somewhere or to let him stay at your place for the night because he lost his keys to his appartment after a wild escapade with his bandmates to the nearest club. And it never ended with him only sleeping on your couch. It usually started at the front door and ended with him sleeping an arm around you after fucking your brains out. If he had been serious about this whole weird relationship you had, it would've been official for more than a year now,but he has to keep his rockstar persona intact. So of course,you were nothing more than the daughter of his manager who was good enough to be fucked when he was drunk or high.

At 3:36,someone rang at the interphone of your home. When you got up from your bed with a huff,you were already seeing the tatted up boy's smirk on the camera in a mental image. And you weren't wrong. His smirk was present as soon as the little screen had lit up with his face so close to it,you though he was a toddler seeing an interphone for the first time in his life. "You really came here at 3 and a half? Jeon,for fucks sake. If i get down there,i'mma beat some sense into you,so you better start running now." He simply laughed,a noise of exasperation leaving his throat. "Aw...come on (Y/n)...let me in,i lost my keys..."

You pushed on the key button,you let him in again. At this point it was exthausing because you knew what this meant. And even if you wanted to deny it,your brain wanted this to stop,but your heart was yearning for him. "I swear to god Jungkook,if you come here again at 3 am,i will stick a pipe up your ass." You unlocked the door for him and let him enter your home.

Fatal mistake because he didn't even answer,he simply pushed you against the wall and looked into your eyes,foreheads touching. "And why would you do that sweetheart? Hm? I thought you liked when i come here...for you." You can't deny it,you fell for him over the months,you fell for this idiot who liked banana milk more than anything else,who drank whisky with more cola than he should because he hated alcohol but wanted to keep his bad boy persona. But the smell of a woman on him made your heart sink. "Jungkook,please...just go and take of your shoes,i will bring you a blanket and a pillow so you can sleep on the couch."

He took your words in a hurtful way,his expression changed from flirty to genuinely hurt. "So...we aren't sleeping together like always?" You scoffed and got out of his grip. "I don't even know why i let you in. If you wanted to get your dick sucked again,you could've called one of your groupies." You disappeared in your room to search for a blanket and pillow,not that you deemed him deserving of such comfort,but he was also keen to be shivering at night without a blanket so it would be better for him to get some warmth during the dark hours. With a shaky breath,you went back to the living room and placed the pillow and comforter on the couch. "(Y/n)...what's the matter?" No answer. You didn't want to answer his question,he wasn't worthy for an answer,but his insistance was made clear when he took your hand into his and brought you closer to him. "Please...(Y/n)...answer me,i'm getting worried at this point,what's the matter?" Inhaling some fresh oxygen as the lump in your throat was only getting tighter,it finally dawned on you. You were in love with him. "Why'd you only call me when you're high?" The tears started to sting in your eyes,the drummer looked at you with a questioning expression. "High? What do you mean?" "Why'd you only call me and come here when your high?" After repeating your previous question,your voice cracked and all tears were let to flow down on your cheeks. "What? (Y/n) i really don't understand what you're talking about." "Why are you only showing interest in me when you're drunk and need to empty your balls. Is it more clear like that?" Jungkook's heart cracked at the sight of you crying because of him. He didn't want you to fall for him,not when he's at the peak of his career,but it would be a lie to say he didn't feel something for you.

"(Y/n)...come on,you know i can't be with someone. I thought that we both made this clear." His tattoed arms were still securely wrapped around you,stroking your back in the hopes of the action giving you some comfort,but as soon as you looked up to him with teary eyes,he couldn't help but let his waterworks flow too. Truth be told,Jungkook hated to see you sad,as awkward as the situation was right now,he hated seeing the one he fell for sad. "No,you made it clear for yourself. You're always acting nice with me,always closing any distance we had between us...no matter how hard i try to stay away from you,you suffocate me...if it was with hatred,it would be better,but it isn't. You're always here to fuck me up then rebuild me once you're sober. I fucking hate you for making me fall for you but i hate myself more for letting myself fall for you."

Your words were stinging. Even poisonous to his ears. Did you really hate him? And as much as it hurt him,it hurt you the same. You never really saw someone else in the hopes of being his one day,you won't blame it on him because you were the one in control of your own life,but every step you declined from someone else was to aliment the hope of being his one day. "I'm sorry...(Y/n)...i...i know you like me...but it won't work out. I do see you as more than just a friend with benefits,i do like you too...but...i can't be with you when i don't even know what tomorrow is made of." You tried to get out of his grip,but it only tightened and he brought your chin up with two fingers. "Listen,don't think i don't like you...if i didn't..you wouldn't be the first one i call to help me,fuck,i know i sound like an asshole for saying this but i do like you...i just..." he was getting ridiculous at this point and he knew it. "You just what? You don't want to miss out on someone else. I get it. You want your target list to be finished then crawl back to me when you're done." "(Y/n) it's not like tha-" you finally got out of his grip. "No. Don't say anything. I get it. But i won't be a second choice to anyone. Let alone you. Good night." You quickly wiped your tears away and went to your room,closing the door behind yourself,leaving Jungkook alone,in the dark living room.

He was tossing and turning for more than an hour now. You could hear it from your room how he was walking up and down the hall. 'I really fucked up.' he thought to himself and he wasn't wrong. You were probably the only person who would really go to hell and back for him and you were the only person he would do the same for. Then why was he acting like an asshole towards you now? Now that he was sure of your feelings,why did he have to break everything he tried to build? It couldn't end like that.

He softly knocked on your door,even if you told him to go away,he opened the door and lied down next to you,taking your body in his arms,nuzzling his face into the skin of your neck. "I'm sorry..." his soft lips placed a kiss on your neck and hands grabbed yours. "Sorry for what? For at least telling me the truth?" "(Y/n)...it's not like that...i just don't want to fuck things up. I prefer to fuck it up now than once we're together. I...i do love you...i heard the bells and the fireworks as soon as i saw you...but i don't want to fuck this up. Simply because i know how fans are,how groupies are. I prefer you seeing my fuckboy image than the real me,as much as i hate it though." You turned around,facing him,still in his clutch. "Well too late dumbass,i fell for the awkward and nice you,the one i see during studio hours,during practice,not this...whole flirty fuckboy persona that i get to see at every thursday at 3 am." He inhaled then kissed your forehead,bringing you closer to him. "It's too late for me to ask you to be my girlfriend...right? I don't want things to end...and,if the only way for me to stay with you is to put that image aside,i'm willing to do it." You sighed. He was still in the wrong. You didn't want him to change for you,but for him. To be himself again. "Jungkook,you don't understand...i want you to be you. I don't want you to rush into things because you don't want to lose me. Plus,you might not like a relationship,so if you don't want one right now,then leave me alone and don't make me fall for you more."

He shut you up before you could go on your monologue with a kiss. Not a rushed one like usually. But a soft one. One that tasted like cigarettes,monster,alcohol and love. "I love you...and starting a relationship now...or in 5 years...it won't change shit...no matter what i think now. I...after thinking about it...what you said...you're right. If i don't jump in right now...what will it change in 2 or 5 years? Nothing...i will still be the same if i don't change now." His frown turned into a small smile when he felt your nose in his neck,a light peck on his skin and your hands on his back. "So...you really want to start something with me...out of love and not out of pity?" He smacked the back of your head,out of habit but also out of outrage,he didn't want you to think he was doing this out of pity. "You dumbass,i want to be with you. I really want to. Out of love. Not because i pity you. You are probably the only person who would accept my headassery...and i love you. So please...don't ever think i would do this brcause of pity." You simply laughed,still sniffing a little bit and cupped his cheeks. "Good,because...i love you too." He kissed you first,again. Now with more passion though. His hands roaming around your back and ribcage,then on your waist,he couldn't help but pull you closer,until it couldn't be done anymore. "I know you do...now...shouldn't we sleep..? Because it's half past five...and you have to wake up at 10 so you can study..." You kissed his neck once more then placed your head on his chest. "It's already almost 6..might as well watch some cartoons and eat breakfast,no?" Jungkook's face lit up like a child's at the candy store. "Now i know why i heard the bells and the fireworks when i saw you."

I hope you guys enjoyed this,i kinda made it longer than most of my writings,but i still hope it's okay!

My requests are always open,so please,if you have something to request,i am more than happy to do it!

#bts #bts scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook #bts au #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #bts angst #bts fluff #rockstar bts au #drummer au #bts drummer au #jungkook drummer au

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i-choose-the-danger · 4 years

Text

Giggly Magizoologists and Where to Tickle Them

I know, It’s been a whiiiile... I hope everyone’s been staying safe and healthy through this pandemic, wherever you are. <3 It’s December 6th, the day Newt Scamander came to New York City, so I guess it’s fitting that I post a Fantastic Beasts fic. I adore Newt so so much. 😊 This one takes place at about the end of the first film. Jacob’s been obliviated, but I feel like Newt may have had to wait a few days for the next ship bound for England to arrive in New York. Tina and Queenie wouldn’t let him roam around the city alone (and I don’t think Madam Picquery would allow it, to be honest) so he’s staying in their apartment until he can go back home. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. Stay safe out there, y’all!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Newt? You still down there?” Queenie called into the open suitcase that rested on the floor in the corner of her living room.

“Yes, I’m here.” Newt had been inside his case since the morning and the sun was already setting behind the Manhattan skyline. He had been working closely with new creatures, helping them get acclimated to their new environments while he studied them. Newt was currently sitting at the small table in the corner of his shed, concentrating on heavily detailed observations and ideas he was scribbling into his notebook. His head snapped up from his work when he heard Queenie’s heels tapping down the steps behind him.

“You’ve been down here all day, honey. You haven’t even eaten at all.” She held up a plate of stew in her hand and smiled. “I thought I’d bring ya a little somethin’.”

“You didn’t have to go to any trouble.” The scent of the stew Queenie had made finally hit Newt’s nose, and his mouth instantly started to water. And then his stomach growled so loudly that both of them heard it. He grinned sheepishly at the sound, raking a hand through his unruly hair. “Now that you mention it, I am feeling a bit peckish.” He accepted the plate from Queenie and set it on the table. “Wow,” he uttered to himself.

“Aww, it’s nothin’. I usually cook to clear my head and I went a little overboard.” A sudden movement in Newt’s vest caught Queenie’s attention. She sat down on the other chair beside his work table. “The light in here must be playin’ tricks on my eyes.” She closed her eyes tightly and then blinked a few times before looking back at Newt. “I thought your pocket just moved.”

“That’s Pickett. He’s probably just restless.” Newt stuck a forkful of food in his mouth. His eyes closed as the flavor took over his senses. “Mmm…” He looked up and flashed Queenie a very brief half-smile before taking another bite of his food.

“Pickett, huh?” The witch set an elbow on the small table, leaning her cheek against her fist. “Is that another one of those… what did you call ‘em? Nifflers?”

“Oh, no.” Newt could feel his eyelids becoming too heavy to stay open for much longer and decided it best to work on his notes after he’d rested. Newt closed the small book and slid it to the back of the table, patting it once with his palm before letting it go. “He’s my bowtruckle.” A giggle from Queenie caused him to shift uncomfortably while he continued eating.

“Bowtruckle. Your creatures have such funny little names. He sounds cute.”

“Would you… would you like to meet him?” Another forkful of food found its way to his mouth. Newt couldn’t remember a time when he had been this hungry. And Queenie had made what he thought was the best meal he’d ever eaten.

“Oh, I’d love to see the little guy!” Queenie exclaimed with a small enthusiastic clap. She smiled proudly, hearing Newt praise her culinary skills in his mind while he ate. “Goodness, honey, if I knew you’d like my cookin’ this much, I woulda made extra.”

“I’m not used to this. This sort of thing.” Newt gestured to the nearly empty plate in front of him. “Home-cooked meals, I mean.” He put his head down with a tight-lipped smile, untamed curls falling down over his eyes. “Pickett, come on out. I want you to meet someone.” Two small leaves poked out of Newt’s vest pocket, followed by two tiny dark eyes, and then followed by tiny thin green digits on either side. Newt’s voice was soft as he attempted to coax the small creature out from hiding. “Don’t be shy. She won’t hurt you. It’s alright.”

“Oh my.” Queenie now had both elbows on the table, her chin resting on both fists. Taking a cue from Newt’s actions, she kept her voice soft and two steps above a whisper. “Peek-a-boo.” The bowtruckle ducked back down into the wizard’s pocket, very slowly peering out again a second later to glance at Queenie. “I see you,” she cooed in a quiet sing-song voice. She could have sworn she heard the creature chirp out a giggle in reply.

“Well now you’re just acting up for attention,” Newt scolded the creature. He held his left index finger just above his vest pocket, waiting for Pickett to grab a hold of it. Once the bowtruckle’s tiny fingers gripped onto it, Newt calmly lifted the creature from the pocket and safely lowered him onto the table.

“Aww, look at him! Ain’t he the cutest thing?” Queenie was completely smitten. She watched intently as Pickett sniffed at the air. The bowtruckle’s little root-like legs clicked as he trotted around the table. He looked at Newt’s plate, up to Newt, and then back to the plate. “Is he hungry too? I don’t even know what he eats.”

“I… I’ve… never given him my food before.” Newt squinted. He sucked his lips inward and bit down on them while he wondered. With delicate precision, he poked a single corn kernel onto one of the tines of his fork and studied it. After careful consideration, he offered it out towards Pickett. The bowtruckle sniffed at the kernel and stole a lick before backing away. Two seconds later, it snatched the kernel right off of Newt’s fork and proceeded to greedily chomp at it. “Pickett! That’s no way to eat in front of a lady!” He could feel his cheeks getting warmer from embarrassment. His eyes looked to Queenie several times before he spoke again. “I’m so sorry. I raised him better than that.”

“You got nothin’ to apologize for. I take it as a compliment.” She knew that Newt was embarrassed, and she found it quite endearing. No wonder Teenie adores you, she thought.

“Alright, Pickett. Miss Goldstein brought that food down here. What should you say to her?” Newt leaned over and brought his face down to Pickett’s eye level. “Hold out your hand on the table, like this, and stay still,” he instructed Queenie as he opened his own hand and laid it palm-up on the table’s edge. His bright green eyes squinted at Pickett, accompanied by a tight-lipped smile. Newt nodded his head toward Queenie’s open hand as he removed his own from the table.

Pickett looked back and forth between the witch and wizard a few times. His little twig-like hands rubbed over each other in an attempt to calm himself. Hesitantly, he took a few steps in Queenie’s direction. He knew that Newt would never tell him to or let him go near another person if it were unsafe, even though it took quite a few days to forgive him for the Gnarlak incident. Pickett now stood next to Queenie’s hand. He reached out his own and touched his little fingers to her palm. It felt warm. He looked back at Newt, who gave him an encouraging nod. This would be a big step, both figuratively and literally, for the bowtruckle. After a few deep breaths, he climbed onto Queenie’s palm and squeaked out what sounded like a thank you, following it with a short smile.

“Oh, you’re just adorable!” Queenie gushed. She kept Pickett cradled in her left hand and let him lay back against her fingers. Instinctively, she reached her other hand out to him and let a finger delicately brush over his leaves. “You’ve been hangin’ in that stuffy little pocket all day, huh? I’m gonna have to teach you two to get out more.”

“I’ve never seen him this trusting with anyone else so quickly before,” Newt said, ignoring Queenie’s last comment. He reached across the table for his notebook. Holding his quill in his teeth, he flipped through the pages and then quickly scribbled some notes on the first blank page he could find. Newt’s hand paused its writing. He glanced sideways at Queenie and then stared at the space in front of himself. “You’re not, I mean you can’t…” Newt couldn’t think of a proper way to word his question. He decided to simply let out the first words that came to mind. He looked at her again with wide eyes. “Are you able to read his thoughts?”

“Oh boy, I have enough of a time trying to understand people’s thoughts and memories.” Queenie blew out a heavy puff of breath. “I don’t know what I’d do if I started picking up squeaks and growls from other creatures.” She playfully scratched at Pickett’s stomach with her index finger. Her lips stretched into a wide smile hearing squeaky giggles escape him. “Who’s a cute widdle bowtwuckle?” she cooed. She scratched at his stomach again, relishing in Pickett’s continued giggling as he curled in on himself. A second later, the bowtruckle grabbed Queenie’s finger and let out a high-pitched squeal.

“Uh oh, now you’ve done it,” Newt said with an amused chuckle. The wizard shook his head, aware of what was going to happen and finding himself not wanting to warn Queenie.

“Uh oh? What’d I do?” Queenie froze as if she’d been hit by a petrificus totalis spell. “I didn’t hurt him or upset him, did I?”

“No, no. You did nothing wrong.” Newt couldn’t hide the knowing grin that slowly spread across his features even though he had lowered his head. He kept his eyes on the bowtruckle and silently waited.

“What’s wrong, little one? You ain’t upset, are you? I was only teasin’.” Pickett pushed himself up to stand, giggle-squeaking to himself while walking onto Queenie’s forearm. “Where’s he goin’?” She looked to Newt, whose eyes were still transfixed on the bowtruckle. They both watched Pickett hop off of her arm and land on her lap. He was so light that Queenie didn’t even feel him until he walked up to her waist. A second later, he ducked under Queenie’s open cardigan and started to spider his tiny fingers across her side as she had done to him. “Eek! Hehehehey! What’s he doohooin’?!”

“It’s just… It’s a game he likes to play.” Newt could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks, although he wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or from the awkwardness he felt over Queenie’s current situation. “Many creatures bond like that. With touch, you see.” He shifted again on his chair as Queenie continued to giggle. “I suppose it’s not too different from parents bonding with their children or siblings when they play or how most species bond when they ma-” Newt mentally kicked himself for rambling into such an awkward topic before finishing his sentence. “Mate.” If every ounce of blood in his body hadn’t already gathered up into his face before, it definitely would have done so now.

“I’m honored thahahat he’s bonding wihihihith me, but EEK!” Pickett had scuttled up Queenie’s arm and was now hopping across her back. Every little step the bowtruckle made was another ticklish poke that sent Queenie into a fit. “How do you turhurhurn him off?” She was now scrunching her shoulders and her nose while Pickett continued sweeping his leaves over her neck.

“I would just have to ask him nicely,” Newt mumbled, looking anywhere but at Queenie while she continued to laugh.

“Nehehewt!”

“Pickett, you’ve had your fun. Come down, now, please.” Almost immediately, the bowtruckle popped out from under Queenie’s strawberry blond curls, scampered down her arm and hopped onto the table. Newt watched him nearly trip over his little rooted legs to get back to the plate in search of more corn kernels. The wizard found himself quite thankful that Pickett had never been that bold when they had first bonded. All of a sudden, Newt recalled memories from childhood. His brother Theseus used to be annoyingly skilled at finding his ticklish spots and he hated it. Or maybe he just hated Theseus. Or both. The very thought made him cringe involuntarily.

“Newt Scamander, I am shocked. You coulda stopped him a whole lot sooner. Or warned me. Shame on you.” She was only teasing the wizard of course. Queenie went quiet, still rubbing her palms against her neck. She listened. She heard. And then she got a wonderfully mischievous idea. “Hey, Pickett? You wanna know a secret, sweetie?” The creature immediately stopped licking sauce from Newt’s plate and looked up at her with wide eyes. His little feet clicked against the table again as he skittered closer to her. Queenie held out her hand and let him step onto her palm. As she lifted Pickett close to her face and cupped her other hand around her mouth to whisper, she locked eyes with a very suspicious Newt. “Excuse us,” she said with a touch of dramatic flair. Queenie turned her back to the wizard, cupping her hand around her mouth once more. Pickett leaned in close to her, eyes wide with anticipation. Purposely making sure that her voice was just loud enough for Newt to hear, she whispered, “Newt absolutely loves tickles.”

“What?!” Newt felt the pit of his stomach freeze over. “That’s not a secret!” His lisp became more prominent in his poorly-masked panic.

“Well, not anymore it’s not, silly,” Queenie scoffed. She set Pickett back down on the table. “Go get him.” She put the back of a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh, watching Pickett skitter across the table with his twiggy arms waving as he squeaked what sounded like a maniacal battle cry.

“That is not what I meant! That’s not true at all.” Newt looked down at the table and saw a blur of green heading straight for him. “Pickett, don’t you dare. Stop.”

“You heard him. Don’t you dare stop.” Queenie sat back in her chair, settling with her arms crossed over her chest.

“No no no no no no no.” Newt tried to catch Pickett before he ran to the end of the table, but the nimble creature was too fast. Pickett dodged the wizard’s hand and used it as a makeshift springboard to launch himself at his target. If Newt wasn’t legitimately panicked, he would have found the sight of a flailing bowtruckle flying toward his face quite amusing. Pickett landed spread-eagle under Newt’s chin with a splat. A second later, Pickett scrunched his arms together and slid straight down inside Newt’s button-down shirt. Again, the wizard’s hand was too late, patting over the shirt collar where the top two buttons were left undone. “Pickett. Pickett, that’s enough of your shenanigans now.” Newt had spoken sternly in hopes of avoiding an embarrassing scene. Those hopes were promptly destroyed. “Now come out of theheheherere. No!” Newt immediately ducked his head down and scrunched his nose, trying not to laugh in front of Queenie. Between Pickett’s tiny fingers spidering around Newt’s abdomen, his feet tapping against Newt’s stomach every time he moved, and his leaves constantly sweeping across Newt’s skin, the poor man was quickly being pushed to his limit.

“Aww, come on, honey.” The witch craned her head to one side to see Newt’s face. “Just let it out. I won’t judge.”

“Mm-mm!” In his efforts to suppress his laughter, Newt ended up snorting instead. He had never been the type of person to allow much intimate physical contact aside from the occasional hug from Theseus, which he only allowed because they were inescapable. Due to this, Newt had no idea that he was still so sensitive to touch. It was almost unbearable trying to keep from moving and hold in his laughter while the ticklish sensations were becoming more intense. A yelp escaped him as Pickett’s fingers poked around his upper ribs. Newt gripped the table edge with both hands and pushed his chair back, huffing air out through his nose every time he fought to suppress his laughter. He could feel his resolve cracking apart with every sputter that snuck past his lips. As torturous as his predicament was, he had to be mindful to keep himself from batting his hands at the sensation and possibly hitting Pickett. A minute later, the wizard lost what composure he’d been hoarding. Newt was now giggling uncontrollably, twisting himself from side to side every time his little companion hopped around inside his now extremely crumpled shirt. He would be hiding away in embarrassment if he could focus on anything other than the havoc Pickett was wreaking across his abdomen. “Pickehehehett! Please!”

“If Tina could see how adorable you are right now…” Queenie was beaming, her smile wide as she bounced in her chair. “She’d get a kick outta you lookin’ all happy.”

“Ahahabsolutely not!” Newt still had a white-knuckled grip on the table. “This doesn’t leave this ro-AHAHAHA PICKETT!” The little beast had switched tactics and started blowing miniature raspberries around Newt’s navel and the poor wizard was losing the last few threads of his sanity. Pickett kept inching dangerously close to Newt’s worst spots as his little fingers continued to knead around the wizard’s abdomen. Please don’t go near my sides, he thought. And then he remembered that he was sitting across from an extremely gifted Legilimens. Oh no. Don’t think. Don’t think. His efforts to clear his mind were futile. It was too late.

“Pickett, sweetie, I think you’re neglectin’ his sides.” Queenie’s eyebrows twitched upward at the sound of a very tiny but very evil-sounding muffled laugh that came from inside Newt’s shirt. A second later, Newt flinched and his laughter went up in pitch. “I could stop givin’ the little guy ideas if you’d take my sister out before you head back home.” Queenie waited.

“If… ihihihihif I what?” Newt snorted again amid his giggles.

“You heard me. Jacob couldn’t hear your thoughts but even he could see you’re both crazy for each other. Tina won’t say anything about it though, because it’s ‘not proper’.” Queenie rolled her eyes.

“You don’t know what y- AAH!” Newt’s words disintegrated into an avalanche of giggles, snorts, squeals, and chuckles.

“Wooooow.” Queenie shook her head in disbelief. “I think you might be worse than Tina.” At that moment, Newt’s body jerked so violently that he almost fell off his chair. “Yeah, definitely worse.”

“Queeheenie, pleaheeheese.” One of Newt’s hands was still firmly clamped onto the table’s edge, knuckles paling, as his other balled into a fist and pounded down onto the table. When Pickett had shifted over to his side, Newt had taken the opportunity to practically fold himself in half by pressing his chest down against his lap in hopes of preventing another attack on his abdomen. Newt was overheated to the point of sweating. He could have sworn that his lungs were on fire every time he tried to take in a breath. He thought that he would be able to hold out just a bit longer… and then Pickett’s little fingers skittered underneath his arm. Newt let out a sound that could have been confused for a thunderbird screech. “Alright, I’ll do it!” he squeaked.

“Come on out, little guy. I think poor Newt needs a break.” Queenie did feel a little guilty about what just happened, but she was able to sense that the wizard was far from upset and - even though he would never admit it – thankful for a little harmless fun.

Newt lifted his head and took in a huge gulp of air as soon as Pickett stilled. The bowtruckle carefully shimmied back up Newt’s shirt and hopped out from the collar. With what strength Newt had left, he brought Pickett back to the table before collapsing his head into his folded arms at the table’s edge.

“Merlin’s beard,” he mumbled into his sleeve, still panting. Newt continued to rest his head there until he could control his breathing. “You are a very naughty little bugger.” Very slowly, a now messy mop of hair lifted, and Newt’s bright green eyes peeked out from underneath it. Pickett was resting against his arm, staring at him ever so sweetly with his leafy head tilted to one side. “Now that look doesn’t fool me for a minute.” The small bowtruckle hugged Newt’s arm and nuzzled against it, making a soft cooing sound. “You’re lucky that I’m very forgiving,” Newt told him quietly. The wizard gently patted Pickett’s back with two fingers. “You might be a little harder to forgive,” he directed at Queenie, even though both of them knew he wasn’t the least bit serious.

“Say what you want, but you look a bit more relaxed and you’re still smilin’.” Queenie grinned down at Pickett, who had scuttled back over to her for some belly rubs. She kept her touch very gentle so as not to incite another attack.

“Anybody down there?” a voice called from above.

“Yeah! In here, Teenie!” Queenie called to her sister. She gave an innocent grin to Newt, who looked quite mortified at her reply.

“I was starting to think you guys left or somethin’ until l saw the case.” Tina carefully descended the narrow staircase into the shed. Her brow furrowed when she noticed Pickett sitting in her sister’s hand.

“Oh. Newt hadn’t been upstairs all day and I thought he might’ve been hungry. I brought down some food and this little guy warmed up to me enough to say hi!” Queenie grinned and held up her hand to showcase Pickett. “He’s adorable when he comes out of hiding,” she added, referring to more than just the bowtruckle.

“Well, uh, congratulations?” Tina walked towards the table for a closer look when Newt’s eyes caught her gaze. He was still resting his head in the crook of one arm on the table and his freckled cheeks were still quite flushed. “Are you alright? You look exhausted.” Tina put a hand on Newt’s shoulder and looked him over. “And overheated.”

“Yes, yes. I’m fine.” Newt immediately sat up straight when he took note of the concern on Tina’s face and how she was gripping his shoulder. He looked away, blinking his eyes open wide a few times to make himself more alert. “Queenie had just convinced me to come upstairs and rest for a bit. I’ll be right up.”

“Good. I’ll see you both up there.” Tina slowly trailed her hand off Newt’s shoulder, awkwardly jerking it away when she realized she’d been holding it. Noticing Queenie’s smile, she told her in her thoughts to be quiet as she hurried to the steps to retreat from a potentially awkward situation.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” Queenie whispered to Pickett, setting him back down on the table as she stood. She leaned over Newt, her hand on his back for balance as she grabbed his empty plate. “Now don’t let me come back down here and find you sleepin’,” she scolded Newt playfully when he rested his head back on the table, scribbling her nails over the wizard’s shoulder blade. A whine escaped him and he instantly crashed his shoulder into his ear, causing Queenie to laugh to herself. Pointing to Pickett, she added, “You keep an eye on him,” before heading to the set of steps leading out of the suitcase to follow her sister. The bowtruckle straightened and chirped in reply.

“It seems to be hard for him to wind down. I worry about him,” Tina’s voice carried down from the top of the steps.

“Hmmm,” Newt hummed to himself. He wrapped his arms into a tighter embrace under his head and nuzzled into them with a contented smile. Pickett squealed and repeatedly swatted at Newt’s elbow. “Alright, alright. I’m going.” He lifted the small bowtruckle onto his shoulder before standing from the chair to stretch his now extremely tired muscles.

“Don’t you worry, Teenie. I think there’s a way you can help him with that,” Queenie’s voice echoed from upstairs.

Newt’s eyes went wide as saucers. He scrambled over to and up the ladder so quickly that Pickett nearly flew off of his shoulder.

#fanfic #tickle fic #Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them #Fantastic Beasts #Newt Scamander #ticklish!Newt #Queenie Goldstein #Pickett #bowtruckle

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