"Specimen '873 is starting to disappoint me. He was showing such promise. These numbers, however?" My keeper muttered to himself, distaste painting his face as he watched the feed in front of him. "Unacceptable for a battle class. He might as well be spare biomass at this point."
He was supposed to be wearing his glasses, not holding them. They may have been called "reading" glasses? But they were not, technically, just for that. They also had a blue light filter. Helped with headaches and eyestrain. He just hated wearing them because he thought they made him look old.
A God Forbid ANYTHING remind him of the passage of time.
He did NOT take it kindly.
I managed to avoid THAT landmine by virtue of having witnessed his receiving them. An "incident" that resulted in his head slamming against a screen. Protocol demanded he get checked. In the process, they discovered his eye sight was declining. It was a... bad day. I brought him things to break and stayed very, very quiet.
He bounced back fairly quickly, though. Once the arrogant researcher who had arranged for the incident to even OCCUR? Tried to come lord his "weakened old man" status over him. It was one thing to "accidently" let the battle class get unfettered access to weapons before loyalty train. But to be dumb enough to step into his lab, call him weak, and gloat about it?
Dr. Raghnall Periculum was many things.
But "unwilling to bludgeon a man to death with the nearest object" was not one of them.
He was dangerous like that. Murderous. It came and went like shifting storms, all you could really do was learn to read the triggers. Get good at knowing when to back up. When to hold really, REALLY still. After all... this was a lawless, immoral place. No one here could or WOULD stop him.
They were all just as bad.
Gritty Sci-Fi Otome games are... a lot less fun to LIVE. To be honest? They are actually pretty horrifying. Traumatizing, really. Hellish. As in, I am pretty sure this is a futuristic version Of Hell (but that is a personal opinion). I regret EVER playing a single damn one. But... BUT? I CLING to the knowledge I gained from it. So I can not regret it completely. Because through them? Through KNOWING this world?
I KNOW this will end. KNOW we will be free. That these monsters will pay for what they've done. The epilog promises a golden age. A beautiful, peaceful dawn after this long and terrible night, filled with horrors. I just... I just have to survive. Hold on. Keep my head down and pray.
I may be trapped in hell, but I'm not broken.
We will be Free.
I have SEEN IT.
Sometimes the greatest defiance is just refusing to die. Just keeping hope alive. I... I can do that. May not be able to fight my way out. Not smart enough to hack or sabotage these nightmares. But I can stay alive. I... I can do that. Bear witness, that someday I may stand against them in trial. Record. So no one is forgotten.
It doesn't feel like enough. I feel tired and angry. Hateful and small. But for the sake of my sanity? I make myself feel nothing. Compartmentalize. I've... I've become unfortunately quite good at it. Good at a lot of terrible things. Like placating. Making myself small. Being invisible. A retail smile. Being one with the furniture.
See, just like the poor souls on the screens in front of him? I'm a Clone. Of who? I have no idea. None of us do. They use old DNA databases. From when it was first commercially available, I think. Like those ancestry tests. Here it was squirrelled away, kept for later use. Which... was us.
My template has been dead for centuries, I think. Or perhaps? She would have considered herself my mother? I hope she would have, strange as I turned out to be. We are all children of the dead. It'd be nice to think they'd have wanted us.
Dr. Periculum's cup lifts lightly as he take a drink, more focused on his work then anything else. That heft is about midway point. I've discovered if I begin brewing now, it will be done by the time his cup is empty and he wants more. A glance at the closest screen gives me the time. Food too, is a good idea.
He likely won't eat it. But if it's there? The chances are higher. And when he comes out of his focus, it'll be available. Less chance of him getting irritated by hunger.
On a well practiced route through piles of notes and projects I know better then to touch, I quietly make my way to the coffee machine. Begin another round of abomination the caffeine tar. It is, quite honestly, a wonder he hasn't accused me of trying to poison him to a heart attack.
A few granules of salt, a bit of cinnamon, some expensive fatty creamer, aaaand? There. Unholy bitterness gone. "Just" a cup of liquid tar so potent it could make a rhino taste time.
I also grab one of the meat pies and put it on a little paper plate.
Ah... what has my life become? That I am so well practiced in make snacks for a monster? Picking them up, I don't dare answer that. That way lies madness. Don't think about it. It can wash out in therapy. After. Because there WILL be an After. There HAS to be an After.
Careful steps and...? Just as I estimated. He just ran out. I nearly silently tap the paper plate down to the edge of the table then slide it forward, with-in ease of reach, but not too close. Then I swap the cups. Go to step away. Only to freeze. As, out of the corner of my eye, I see one of his hands briefly leave his keyboard to make a nearly dismissive "one moment" gesture.
Stay put. Don't move. I'll address you when I'm done with my, more important, thoughts. I feel the flash of fear, of panic, but let it go. There is nothing I can do. I will be hurt or I won't be hurt. There is no use suffering twice, through speculation and fear, I remind myself. Force my mind empty and pleasant. Retail smile. Happy to serve.
He finishes. Leans back, dissatisfied with some project or other, and finally slips on his glasses. Gestures imperiously for the cup in my hands. I do not question of course, merely hand it to him. He takes it, passes it to his other hand, and sets it aside. Then, casually, leans slightly over and wraps a thickly muscled arm around my waist. Dragging me off my feet and into his lap.
"You know, girl? B-21873 really was, actually quite promising. I was starting to think I'd keep him. Decent speed, good stamina, excellent problem solving. His test scoring was exceeding all expectations. Really thought I might have gotten you a little friend to play with. A gaurd so I could send you out on some chores safely. But no, he just HAD to be a failure." He said, leaning forward to grab his cup.
I was crushed awkwardly close. Could feel every moment. Acutely aware of his woody and sea air cologne, the coffee on his breath as words were spoken far to close, the beating of a heartbeat I could feel against my arm. Hyper aware of him. Why was I in his lap? This felt dangerous. I should not be in his lap.
Between sips, he turned his head and pressed his lips to my temple, not kissing... somehow worse. Just... just breathing me in. Slow, deliberate, and deep. Like savoring a scent, a sensation. The subtle back and forth, as though rubbing his lips against my hair. Enjoying the feeling against sensitive skin. It could almost be a cuddle on any other man. It took everything I had not to shudder.
"Unlike you of course. You pet, could never disappoint me. If these rejects tried even half as hard as my perfect darling girl? The world'd be a better place." He paused his almost nuzzling. To simply rest his head against mine, pulling off his glasses so he could tuck his head closer. His breathe was hot against my ear. His voice gravel and distain as it spoke of others.
"It's disgusting. Like they don't even try. We spend countless resources breeding, feeding, and training them... for what? Failure? I'm starting to think those bastards are deliberately sending me bad specimens."
Every word he said was horrifying. I could not cry. Dare not. But my heart screamed for those poor souls. They were just kids. Trapped in hell. Tortured from birth. Disposed of when they no longer met some arbitrarily impossible anime standard. If I turned my head, even slightly, I KNEW, I would be faced with screens of untold suffering. Feeds of "testing". So called training. Autopsy reports and datapoints.
Lists of who... who had been deemed "not good enough".
Who were scheduled to become "recycled biomass".
But if I looked? I would weep for them. And that? That was dangerous right now. Right NOW? I had to be pleasant company. A child's doll to be dragged around. No thoughts, no differing opinions. Preferably no opinions at ALL. Just warm and huggable. Soft. A beloved pet who serves coffee and brings things when told. Endure. I just... I must simply ENDURE.
The night will end. Dawn will come. Believe in her.
J-Just empty your head... and Believe In Her.
An alert pops up. I can hear it on a screen somewhere behind me. Dr. Periculum turns his head to look, reaching for his snack. Freezes. Then, a sharp bark of laughter. It's violent, like the strike of a lightning bolt, jostling me. The ones that follow just as harsh. He's not a man that laughs often. And it's not a kind sound.
Filled with schadenfreude, his laughter is like the vicious barks of hunting hounds. The shots of a weapon. A short and harsh to the ears sound, over and over. Delight in the suffering of an enemy. The fall of a rival. It strikes through his body like seizures. Making him lean forward to read. Brace against the desk, tighten his grip around me, widen the brace of his legs.
Glancing up, his eyes are alight with manic glee. His grin is vicious.
He looks Feral.
"Well, well, WELL! What do we have HERE?! Is that Jack ANDERSON'S facility I see? Mr. 'Master of the genome' himself? Looks like SOMEONE got AHEAD of themselves! Ha!" Raghnall cackles spinning his chair so I can see the screen. Leaning back to grab his cup and toast with it. "Look what we have here, pet! Some fucking KARMA! I knew that little shit wasn't worth the paper his degree was printed on! See this? THIS is what happens when you can't control your own damn compound!"
"Rest in PIECES, you worthless little SHIT!"
I sat. Frozen. As Dr. Periculum laughed and laughed, his mood viciously pleased. Because... because I recognized that facility. Chapter Two. There was an animation that played. The... the BREAKOUT! Joy filled me. Like the first rays of dawn. That was HER. S-she was OUT! Free! She DID it! Oh god... oh god she was COMING! It had finally BEGUN!
I caught myself. Barely.
My eyes felt a bit wet so I disguised it with a fake yawn. I dare not show empathy. NEVER show empathy. Keep it guarded like diamonds in your chest. If he thought, for even a moment, that I empathized with anyone but him. CARED about anyone but him? They wouldn't last the hour.
And it would be the longest, cruelest, hour in existence, as they died.
You make that sort of mistake exactly ONCE.
"Ah~ todays a GOOD day. And you know what we should do?" He hummed, nearly a coo as he spun us almost lazily around on his chair. In whimsical circles like a bored child. "We should celebrate. Ding dong, the fuckers dead~ HA HA! Not to mention? It's been entirely too long, pet, since I've spoiled you rotten. We should get a cake, hmm? You want a cake? Lil treat? Sweet lil treat for my girl?"
"I could get you that new dress I've been looking at. Bet you'll look like a classy lil princess, won't that be nice? Can even make it match the trackers I'm finishing up! No more uncomfy collars when we go out! Just pretty lil bracelets, ain't that nice?"
I force myself to smile. Nod. Ignore the fear and anger, the humiliation and helplessness. It's not time yet. Bid your time. You will LOSE your chance for True Freedom if you give in to your anger. Your hurt. Patience, THEN strike. Remember! Chapter two! There are FIVE.
It is COMING.
He stopped spinning, planting his feet on the floor. His manic grin softening. No less unhinged, less full of teeth, but perhaps the closest a man like him could come to loving. His eyes obsessive as the roam my face. Cataloging everything.
"You know, pet? You really might be might greatest creation. Best thing I've ever made or done. Anyone wants you? They'd have to pry you from my cold, dead hands. I'd burn EVERYTHING down. Kill just about EVERYONE." His voice was the sort of whispered confession meant for churches, not the heart of this hell he had built. It felt unholy. Dangerous.
Exactly like him.
"Once I figure how to take humanity to it's next stage? Reverse aging? Heck, even stop it. I promise, pet. Gonna take you with me. You're coming along for the ride. Straight to the end. Heat death of the universe. Well become GODS, pet. Live forever and a day. Bet you can't wait, huh?"
"Don't worry. The futures going be BEAUTIFUL. Just you wait."
Can you please write Jack Kline x Prophet user ( platonic ) headcannons
yes ! my sweet boy ! much love !
Jack Kline x prophet!reader (platonic) headcanons
Jack is immediately fascinated by you when he learns youâre a prophet. Not in a scary or invasive way, heâs just genuinely curious about how your mind works.
He asks questions that sound incredibly intense but are asked with complete innocence.
âDo the visions hurt?â
âCan you tell when one is about to happen?â
âDo you ever wish they would stop?â
He notices very quickly when youâre overwhelmed, even before you say anything.
Jack treats your visions seriously from the beginning.
Even if the others are skeptical about a dream or warning, Jack listens like every word matters.
If you wake up panicking after a vision, heâs there almost instantly.
Heâs not always good with comfort at first, but he tries.
Bringing water.
Sitting nearby quietly.
Asking if you want silence or company.
You accidentally become one of Jackâs grounding points.
Being around someone who understands what itâs like to carry things you didnât ask for makes him feel less alone.
He trusts you faster than most people because you understand the fear of being tied to something bigger than yourself.
Jack absolutely hates seeing your prophet headaches.
The first time he sees you physically in pain from visions, he looks genuinely upset.
âThere should be a way to stop this.â
He gets frustrated that he canât immediately fix it.
If you brush it off, he gets more worried, not less.
He learns your warning signs over time:
when you go quiet suddenly
when your stare unfocuses
when you start rubbing your temples
when you look at something like youâre seeing through it instead of at it
Eventually he can tell a vision is coming before anyone else notices.
Jack takes your words more literally than other people do.
So if you casually mutter something prophetic sounding, he FULLY pauses.
âWait. Was that a prophecy or a metaphor?â đ
You may accidentally scare him several times this way.
If your visions involve him, Jack listens very carefully.
Not because heâs afraid for himself, but because heâs afraid of becoming something dangerous.
He trusts you to tell him the truth even when itâs difficult.
He never treats you like youâre âbrokenâ because of the prophet thing.
If anything, he admires your resilience.
You surviving constant visions, divine pressure, headaches, nightmares, all of it?
He thinks youâre incredibly strong for continuing to live normally despite it.
Late night conversations with Jack hit DIFFERENT.
Especially when neither of you can sleep.
The bunker kitchen at 3 AM energy:
him quietly asking about prophecy
you trying to explain visions that donât fully make sense
both of you talking about destiny like two exhausted teenagers trying to understand the universe.
Jack is very physically grounding when youâre overwhelmed:
sitting beside you
holding your hand if youâre okay with it
steady reminders like:
âYouâre here.â
âYouâre safe right now.â
âThe vision already passed.â
He learns grounding techniques specifically to help you.
If a prophecy scares you enough that you start isolating yourself, Jack notices immediately.
He doesnât force you to talk, but he stays nearby.
Quietly persistent.
âYou donât have to carry it alone.â
And the thing is? He means it completely.
You and Jack probably develop a weirdly comforting routine around visions:
tea after nightmares
sitting together in silence after difficult prophecies
him asking âDo you want to talk about it?â every single time
you both pretending everything is normal afterward.
Jack would trust you with fears he doesnât tell many people.
Especially fears about power, destiny, and becoming something harmful.
Because if anyone understands what itâs like to have your future feel predetermined, itâs you.
This is it guys! The last one! I did it! Thank you to everyone that requested a fic, I hope youâve enjoyed, now onto the 600â˛s!
Complete the sentence 500 Followers Challenge.
Requested by @christinalibertymikaelson
Gabriel was furious when he found out that Sam and Dean had gotten a prophet, his prophet, into hunting. Â Of all the stupid things they could do, getting you into hunting had to be the worst yet.
Not that you couldn't look after yourself, you were more than capable, but you were meant to be a prophet, someone that documented the big events, that read the tablets, that was to be protected at all costs. He didn't like seeing you out there.
Of course, he was forbidden to intervene, it was only of you were in serious danger that he could step in.
That didn't mean he couldn't keep a closer eye on things, even from being in hiding.
Sam and Dean started to call you lucky, seeming to have a knack of getting out of seemingly sticky situations. Â You didn't dare try and explain how it happened, just that it did and with growing regularity.
That was until Sam and Dean happened to mention that prophets were meant to have guardians, but with all the archangels dead or worse, you were more or less on your own.
You guessed otherwise.
You made sure that you were alone before you tried anything, and that Sam and Dean weren't likely to follow or to call. Â It was tough, as they were protective, but you managed.
âI know this is going to sound really weird,â You said to the empty room. Â âBut if your there, I would really like to talk to you. Â It seems only fair I get to know who's been protecting me.â
Gabriel was surprised, but he wasn't one to disappoint, even if it wasn't something he was supposed to do.
He didn't appear straight away though.
âWell, hello to you too.â Â He said, his voice making you jump and turn to look for him. âI can't say it's everyday that a prophet realises that someone is looking out for them.â
âWhere are you?â Â You asked.
âInvisible, for the moment,â He said casually. Â âMostly because I need to ask you something first.â
âOkay?â
Your hesitation made him laugh. Â âThere's no need to worry sugar, it's just an insurance on my part, can't have those little Winchester's knowing I'm around.â
This made you tilt your head and something that looked like recognition flashed across your expression. Â âWell, if you are who I think you are, then I should be worried, just based on what Sam and Dean have told me.â
âOh? Â And who do you think I am?â
âGabriel.â
You said it so plainly and matter-of-factly that he was taken back for a moment.
You took it as your answer. Â âConsidering you've been helping me though, I'll take it that I don't have to worry.â
Gabriel appeared in front of you, looking a little concerned. Â âNot from me, no. Â I couldn't hurt you even if I wanted to.â Â He frowns a little. Â âYou cannot tell Sam and Dean.â
âI'm sure they'd get a hell of a shock.â Â You said but quickly continued as he went to speak. âBut there is a reason I came alone. I figured that whoever was helping me was staying secret, especially after they told me everything.â
Gabriel stared at you. Â âSo why seek me out?â
âTo say thank you.â
âSeriously?â
âIs that so hard to believe?â You smiled. âYouâve got me out of some pretty tight spots, I think itâs only fair instead of believing Iâm just incredibly lucky.â
He wasnât sure what to make of this. Â In all his years and the times that heâd had a prophet to watch over, none of them had ever sought him out to say thank you before.
But then, heâd never been this protective before.
That was when he noticed your gaze wonder slightly to the side of him and it dawned on him that this was more than what it seemed.
Gabriel shifted, a little uncomfortably, suddenly unsure of what to do.
He knew that you could see his wings tucked in neatly behind him, knew it must have taken great restraint to not look straight away.
You swallowed and looked back at him. Â âSo, where do we go from here?â
Gabriel tilted his head.  âFrom here?  WellâŚâ He didnât want to say it, but he knew that he had to.  âI guess we keep things as normal as possible.  Iâm not going anywhere and I would greatly appreciate Sam and Dean not knowing about me.â
âI said I wouldnât,â You said and your gaze wondered again before you shook your head.  âI meanâŚitâs a safety thing, right?â
He nods and cautiously steps a bit closer, unable to help himself.  âYeah, but if you need meâŚâ
You look up at him and give a small nervous smile. âI just have to call?â
âThatâs it sugar,â He winks.  âNow, do you needâŚanything from me before I go?â
âDo you have to go?â Â You asked quickly, the words out of your mouth before you could stop them, your face heating up and you stumbled over your words a little. âI know you do but-â
Gabriel smiles, knowing what you really wanted to ask, a pang of regret going through him because he knew it wasnât safe. Â âTouching is off limits. Â At least for now, however,â He stretches out one wing, your eyes going wide as you watch it, but from it, he pulls a single feather out and holds it out to you. Â âI can give you one.â
Your eyes wide, you take it. âWonâtâŚwonât this make it obvious?â
He shakes his head. âOnly you can see them, althoughâŚbaby brother might be able to sense it, just keep it close to you if you can.â
You nod. Â âTh-thank you Gabriel.â
Gabriel couldnât help himself, reaching up and brushing your cheek, making your eyes flutter shut. âAnything for you Y/N.â
The feeling of his hand vanishes and you open your eyes, finding him gone, a feeling of unbidden sadness overtaking you, making you shiver slightly before looking at the feather still in your hand, your fingers brushing over it.
Gabriel watched as you left slowly, looking around the room a few times before you made it out the door. He lets out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair and wondering exactly how long this could go on before he broke.
