#IF I CAN just get a little heavy in the tags for a sec
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I think its really cute that Manuel gets the most love from comments! I think he deserves it, because even I have dubbed him as the Best Boy. But, Mani has mixed feelings about receiving praise and being considered the favorite. He’d sooner think people are lying to him than believe they actually like him that much. Because, why would they?
His view of himself comes from years of being stuck in the middle.
#los brujos#manuel#adrian#victor#my art#IF I CAN just get a little heavy in the tags for a sec#cw: talking about race and body image stuff#not mentioned in this little comic because i didnt want it to be TOO sad#manuel was bullied a lot in school and it affected his self confidence a looot#technically they ALL were to an extent#but Manuel had a very hard time not only being big but also Black#people were unkind and he felt better disappearing to avoid getting sneers from anyone#but that was pretty much impossible when he became so tall#though puertorican culture has a huge African/Black influence it still suffers from colorism and racism#and it would be dishonest to write a story about afroboricuas and not touch that subject even slightly#i just didn’t feel like info dumping in a comic about ALL THAT#cuz really the anons were just being cute#sorry to ramble
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late nights, heavy weights.
— rindou haitani
cw: gym bro!rindou, fluff, shy reader, rindou being a supportive & flirty gym bro, gym jargon. spotting: when a person assists the weightlifter to make sure they do the exercise in a safe manner without any injuries. <3
a/n: i was at the gym earlier and i got this idea. have not written for mr rindou haitani in a while sooo here he is!
it was one o’clock in the morning, the cool air of the early morning engulfed your body as you made your way to the entrance of the gym—the door beeping as you placed your key tag against the reader. walking in, you were met with the quiet gym music playing in the background. the gym was mostly empty; no staff in sight, and maybe one or two people working out and minding their business.
you liked working out around this time to avoid the after work rush hour, plus, you could go on at your own pace with no one waiting on you to use the equipment next. after stretching your body, you headed to the open squat rack, ready to hit legs for today.
your workout was going well so far, you were able to steadily squat heavier weights while maintaining a good form and a straight bar path. you wanted to opt for a lifting belt after placing another plate on the barbell but noticed that you must’ve forgotten it back at home. mentally cursing yourself, you looked around around the almost empty gym to see if anyone had a spare belt you could borrow.
one woman was on the treadmill—no luck with that—while a man was on a weightlifting platform, doing deadlifts. his two toned hair was tied in a low ponytail, hues of blonde and baby blue securely wrapped in a hair tie. the man sported a black muscle tee and shorts but what caught your eye was his unused lifting belt on the floor next to his belongings.
mustering up the courage, you waltzed your way over to the man and gently tapped his exposed arm. damn, he had muscles. he turned around and took an earbud out, “yeah?” his chest heaved up and down from the exercise he was doing, sweat dripping down his temples while stray hair stuck to his skin. you smiled at him, “um, if you don’t mind.. can i borrow your belt for a sec? i’m just on my last set of squats and i forgot mine at home.”
the man nodded, making a gesture to you that it was okay to use his belt. you quickly thanked him but before you decided to head back to the squat rack, he introduced himself as rindou, and you introduced yourself as well. warmth bloomed in your chest at a possible new found friend at the gym.
it was pretty hard to make friends at the gym since everyone was caught up in their own little world, you didn’t really mind it but you just wished you had some friends at the gym.
“oh, uh, i know this is probably asking for a lot.. but would you be okay spotting me? i totally get it if you’re busy!” you asked rindou, suddenly feeling embarrassed at the sudden question.
but, your embarrassment quickly faded away as he nodded, saying that he just finished his last set of deadlifts and could spare you a little time.
securely wrapping the belt around your waist, you positioned yourself against the bar, taking a deep inhale. “i’m going to place my hands here, okay?” rindou came close behind you, his muscled chest near your back. he was polite. usually when other people spotted you for squats, they wouldn’t even ask you if you were okay with their hands being so close to your chest.
you nodded, making eye contact with him through the mirror. rindou’s hands made its way just underneath your chest where your ribs ended. you felt warmth creeping up your cheeks and to your ears while he did that, internally panicking that someone as handsome as him was kind enough to spot you.
“ready when you are.” you felt his hot breath fan over your nape but you shrugged it away and nodded at him through the mirror again.
lifting the bar off the rack, rindou’s hands gripped your torso tighter to steady you from the weight of the bar and the plates. you sucked in a deep breath before lowering yourself into a squat and powering up into a standing position. rindou moved with you, squatting down as well to assist the whole motion of the exercise—throughout the whole set, he showered you with encouragement and praises which helped get you through the exercise.
“alright, last one. up!” you braced yourself for the final lift, feeling his hands tighten around you, trying to lift you back up.
after successfully executing the whole set, rindou casually reached his arm around to your front to snap the lifting belt off so you could breathe properly. the act surprised you but it also made your stomach practically do somersaults.
“wow, you did so good! feels like you didn’t even need me there. you did it like a champ!” you shied away from his constant praises, shaking your head and waving your hands to deny it.
“no, no! you definitely helped a lot, rindou. thank you kindly spotting me.. and for that belt release.” you bit your lip after saying the last few words. you swore your heart raced faster but you blamed it on the pre-workout, no way the man you just met was already making you melt. rindou raised a brow, the corner of his lip tugging up, “yeah? i can gladly do it again for you after your sets. just ask me.”
your jaw almost dropped at that. you felt your knees almost buckle at his response, not expecting the man to be so casual and brazen about it. rindou blamed it on his pre-workout for being this bold; he usually wouldn’t even go as far as to make conversation but with you, it just came out naturally.
“i mean.. as long as you don’t mind, i guess.” you let out a small chuckle, trying to hide the fact that you were absolutely losing your mind. rindou was definitely trying to woo you and you had no complaints about it whatsoever.
rindou mirrored your chuckle, “i’m very glad we’re on the same page here. it looks like there is something else to look forward to when i go to the gym, huh.”
you blinked at him, not knowing how to respond at his advances. rindou thought you were cute trying to wrack your brain for a response, the way your lips parted but no words came out.
“..i-i guess so.. um, thank you for letting me use your belt!” you awkwardly removed the lifting belt from around your waist and handed it over to him. he chuckled at your awkwardness but nonetheless, taking his belt back.
“guess i’ll see you around then? call me over if you need anymore help with any of your exercises.. or other things, doesn’t have to be gym related.” you smiled at him, shyly rubbing your nape. “i definitely will.. for both of those reasons.”
the two of you exchanged a few more words before going to your respective workout stations. a wide smile plastered on both your’s and rindou’s faces as you two resumed your workouts.
you had one more reason as to why you loved working out very early in the morning—it started with the letter ‘r’ and hopefully ended in something much more.
© mitsuyeaah
#rindou haitani#rindou fluff#rindou drabble#rindou x y/n#rindou x reader#rindou x you#tokyo revengers fluff#tokyo revengers drabble#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers x y/n#tokyo revengers x you#tokyo revengers#tokrev x reader#tokrev x you#tokrev x y/n
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] — 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐘 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐃
summary: as your relationship with Lucy Gray grows, it becomes a little harder to keep it a secret from your dad, especially when Mayfair has something to do with it.
warning/s: mentions of minor violence and the Hunger Games obvs.
author's note: okay so the song mentioned in this part and the next is called ‘forever & always’ by zeph, which i chose for the lyrics, not necessarily the rhythm as it’s not a folk song. But i did imagine it in a more lucy gray-style, so i thought it worked! plus it’s a really good song and i’ve tagged it below if you wanna have a listen :)
one / three / masterlist / wattpad
Being in a relationship with Lucy Gray was all I could have dreamed of and more. Of course, it was a complete and total secret from my father, who could never know I even befriended the girl let alone dated her. It meant sneaking around was a regular thing for us, to my dismay, but she didn't seem to hate it.
I was visiting her home one Saturday, hoping to spend some time with her since it was a lovely day. Even if it meant helping out the Covey with some chores or simply rotting away inside, I didn't mind as long as it was with her. But she seemed to have other plans when she answered the door and kissed me hello.
"I was just about to come get you," she said with an excited grin. "I have a date planned if you're up for it."
I quirked a brow curiously. "Oh, really?"
She curled her fingers between mine as she nodded, humming. "Best part is, your daddy won't find us neither."
i couldn't help but laugh at the prideful expression she wore. "That sounds perfect, Lucy Gray."
And just like that, she grabbed her guitar case and a basket before leading me into the meadow behind her house.
"You gonna tell me where we're headed?" I asked her, taking the heavy guitar case from her hand as we walked.
"This one has manners," she teased, making me nudge her in the arm as she continued, "To the lake. I got a whole day planned."
We chatted about everything and nothing as we strolled through the woods. Having grown up in town and having no need to visit the meadow or woods, I was a little unfamiliar with it all. But I knew that I felt at ease immediately, finding the scent of the earth and the view of the trees and ripples of sunlight peeking through the leaves to be refreshing. Lucy Gray reminded me of it all, I soon realised, of nature, and it only made sense why she put me at ease, too.
We soon reached the lake, which she'd told me about many times, but it looked even more beautiful than she was able to describe. She wasn't wrong about my dad not finding us here, that was for sure.
After setting down her guitar case in the cabin beside the lake, which she told me was nobody's in particular but the Covey used it when they were out here, I watched as she grabbed a cloth bag from the basket and led me outside.
"You ever been foraging before, darlin'?" she asked with an amused smile, already knowing the answer.
"I have not," I said, somewhat entertaining her teasing.
"Then we can start there," she said with a girlish grin, before tugging me by the hand into the trees.
Through vast experience and knowledge, she knew all the spots to take me to then showed me which plants were edible and which weren't. We collected a bunch of edible roots in our cloth bag, conversing in between, and I was growing accustomed to nature as we worked. Personally, I found it was an activity made even better because of Lucy Gray, who was as radiant as the sun was as it shimmered down on us. She looked so carefree, and I couldn't stop stealing glances at her.
"Oh, Y/N, come here!" she called to me as I was picking some berries from a bush she'd confirmed was safe.
"One sec," I said, tying off the bag, before heading to Lucy Gray not far behind me.
She was kneeling down into some taller grass, before glancing back at me with a delicate smile. Waving me over, she returned her attention to whatever was in front of her, and I had no choice but to kneel beside her. As soon as I saw the snake coiled around her right hand however, I fell back onto my butt reflexively, startled.
"You're okay, she won't bite," Lucy Gray said between a chuckle, resting a hand on my leg and meeting my eyes. "She won't harm you if you won't harm her."
I swallowed thickly, trusting her words but also still very much scared of the brightly coloured snake before me. This was normal to her, as evident by her nonchalance and intrigue when handling the snake, but the opposite for me.
"Lucy Gray, I don't think I–"
"You trust me?"
I blinked, eyes glued to the snake, as if it would come at me if I dared look away.
"Hey, sweetie, over here," Lucy Gray coaxed my attention away, and I relaxed slightly when I saw the way she smiled at me. "You trust me?"
"Of course I do."
She nodded. "Then come here, slowly. I promise she won't bite."
Knowing it was awfully embarrassing to look so terrified before something so small in front of someone I liked, I sucked up a breath and kneeled beside her again, though not letting go of her left hand which was still on my leg for assurance.
"They're harmless," she said softly, admiring the snake as it stretched up her hand. "I love 'em because of their bright colours."
"Naturally."
She chuckled, glancing at me sideways. "You're doin' good."
"Uh-huh..."
Again, she chuckled, before lowering her hand into the tall grass and watching as the snake uncoiled itself before shooting away. I released a breath I didn't know I was holding as Lucy Gray helped me stand up.
"Thanks for not runnin' away," she said appreciatively. "I know snakes aren't everyone's thing."
I shook my head. "It's okay. I'm scared, sure, but they're not that bad with you."
Her smile widened and I wasn't sure what I said to make her so happy, but she kissed my cheek and began to walk away. I followed after her, eyes acutely aware of any tall grass around us now, until we reached the lake yet again.
After grabbing some fishing rods from the cabin, we sat at the edge of the dock and cast our lines, hoping to catch something good for an afternoon picnic. I'd never been fishing before, so Lucy Gray was, expectedly, much better at it than I was, catching a few small fish that wouldn't be filling on its own. It wasn't until I felt a tug on my line that I grew hopeful, eyes widening.
"I think I've got something!" I exclaimed, before standing up to get a better grip on the rod.
"Pull back and gently wind the rod," she encouraged brightly, standing up too.
I did as she said, but whatever I had was a strong swimmer and pulling me forward slightly. So much, in fact, that I almost stumbled over the edge and into the water, making me drop the rod completely to catch myself.
"That was close," I said with a racing heart, but knowing I'd need to somehow collect the rod now.
"Can't you swim?" Lucy Gray asked with a mischievous smile, and that should have been my first hint.
"I can, but I wasn't planning to get my clothes–" I didn't even get to finish because all she had to do was nudge me slightly and I lost my footing, falling straight over the edge and into the lukewarm water.
My first instinct was to swim upwards, head resurfacing as I spat out the water from my mouth and wiped my eyes. Lucy Gray's laughing caught my attention, and I raised my brows with disbelief.
"Seriously?!"
"You had to get the rod somehow," she joked, and I shook my head disapprovingly before grabbing the rod that was floating beside me.
After Lucy Gray accepted it, she surprised me by jumping in next to me, still fully clothed, and splashing me in the process. Again, I wiped my face and narrowed my eyes at her as she resurfaced, eliciting more laughter from her.
"Oh, c'mon, it was funny," she tried to defend, swimming up to me and wrapping her arms around my neck. "Plus, don't you feel nice and refreshed now?"
I sighed, unable to stay mad at her when she was grinning at me so carefree. "I suppose so."
She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my lips. "Knew it. Now let's stay here for a little longer then I'll catch us a real fish and we can start on some dinner. Sound good?"
I nodded in agreement, and we did just that. It was fun to just be able to swim around and do nothing but enjoy each other's company. My heart was full as Lucy Gray filled the forest with her laughter. Between the terrible jokes I told and her contagious happiness, she was just so bubbly, and I couldn't blame her because I felt the same.
She ended up catching a big enough fish for the both of us and, using the roots and berries we picked earlier, we cooked up a lovely little bit of dinner to share by the water. I'd eaten some pretty good food, by District 12 standards anyway, thanks to my dad's job. But this was truly the best thing I'd ever eaten in my life, no doubt because of the company also.
Just as I finished rinsing our plates off in the lake, I heard Lucy Gray leaving the cabin with her guitar case in hand.
"Come here!" she called, waving me over.
I left the dishes to try on the basket before joining her where she was sat under a tree, pulling out her guitar.
"Am I about to get my own private concert?" I asked playfully, raising an eyebrow.
She rolled her eyes, though a smile ghosted her lips. "I'm startin' to regret this."
I chuckled, crossing my legs and getting comfortable opposite her. "No, go on, I'm all ears."
The truth was, I'd never get tired of listening to Lucy Gray sing, and to have her sing just for me would be a downright honour.
"I actually wanted to show you a song I was workin' on," she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I haven't finished it yet, but I was just too excited to show you and thought today would be perfect. I hope you like it."
It took me a second to realise that she'd written the song for me, and my playful nature subsided momentarily. "Wait, what? A song for me?"
"Well, duh," she said with a laugh, before strumming her guitar gently, tuning it. "Remember, it's not finished, so be nice."
Still surprised she'd written a song for me, I could only nod in response. She strummed for a few more seconds, trying to settle on a pitch, before clearing her throat.
"Love songs are fleeting,
but the melodies stick with you.
I have learned your heart,
and memorised the tune.
It's my favourite,
I'll sing it in any occasion.
It'll be my soundtrack,
beyond our youth..."
I was entranced by her voice, the softness of it and the way it carried towards me like a siren to a sailor. She was always beautiful, but when she was singing, it was something else entirely.
The tune played aloud as she strummed gently with her fingers, and her eyes found mine, a brief smile on her lips before she continued to sing.
"Every note you hum,
is a classic through and through.
I'll add them to a list called
'All Things I Look Forward To'.
It's my favourite,
even if no one will play it.
I only want a future
filled with you..."
She strummed a little longer, a delicate tune that was a little different to her jauntier tunes she performed at the Hob, and then she left her last note hanging and finished. My heart was suddenly racing, in a good way, and I was embarrassed by the tear that escaped my eye, rushing to wipe it.
"Well, gee, was it that bad?" she joked, but I still felt the need to shake my head quickly.
"No way," I told her, meeting her eyes. She was more nervous than she was letting on, so I grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently. "Lucy Gray, that was beautiful. Is that really how... how you feel?"
Her cheeks turned pink and she avoided my eyes with a shy smile. "Of course. The song's not finished, but I wanted you to hear it. To know that you mean a lot to me."
I nodded slowly. "You mean a lot to me, too. Nobody has ever said such heartwarming things to me before, let alone written them into a song for me. I'm honoured."
Her smile relaxed as she met my eyes again. "I'm glad you liked it."
My heart wouldn't stop beating so fast, not when she was sitting right there, making me forget the world existed. I couldn't stop myself as I leaned forward, taking her bottom lip between mine.
Nobody had ever made me feel the way she had, and though I'd never truly experienced it before, I decided that this had to be what falling in love felt like.
There was no other word for it.
"... and I thought I liked the colour, but it just reminded me of that time she threw up on my favourite shirt."
I blinked, trying my hardest to care about what one of my classmates was telling me over a drink at the Hob. How I'd ended up in a conversation with him was beyond me, but it felt rude to just walk away.
"Hey, isn't that Billy Taupe with your girl?"
At this, I tuned back into the conversation, confused. Following my classmate's gaze, I saw Lucy Gray standing by the bar, drinking from a glass of water and trying her very hardest to ignore Billy Taupe, but he was adamant on speaking to her. I would have left her any other time, knowing she could handle herself, but she'd mentioned recently how he'd been annoying her and trying to make things right despite being in a relationship with Mayfair. And because of this, I approached them calmly.
Lucy Gray spotted me and relaxed a little, but if Billy Taupe noticed me, he didn't acknowledge me in the slightest.
"Lucy Gray, can we go somewhere private?" he asked her desperately.
"Why would she do that?" I answered him, quirking a brow.
He glanced at me sideways, irritated. "It's none of your business."
"Hey, don't talk to her like that," Lucy Gray scolded him. "This is over, Billy Taupe, now leave me alone."
"It's not," he retorted.
"I'm saying it is," I told him in a warning tone. "Now go."
Scoffing, he finally turned to look at me. "Don't you have some whorin' around to do?"
Before I could even register his words, Lucy Gray slapped him sharply across the face, surprising even me. I opened my mouth, taken aback, as he widened his eyes and touched his face. He looked from me to her, and as soon as his expression contorted into a scowl and he took a step forward, I didn't think, I just shoved him backwards so he couldn't hurt her. That was probably the second mistake from the two of us, as he immediately stumbled back into someone with a drink, making them drop it.
"Oh, shit," I mumbled, before grabbing Lucy Gray's hand and making a beeline for the exit.
In no time, a fight broke out and the once calm, lighthearted atmosphere of the Hob turned into a violent, rough boxing ring. After some shoving and avoiding the odd swing, Lucy Gray and I successfully managed to make it outside unscathed, away from the rowdiness.
I was bent over, catching my breath, as I witnessed several peacekeepers nearby rushing in to break up the fighting, and then I looked over at Lucy Gray questioningly.
"Did you really have to slap him?"
She straightened up, having caught her breath. "He doesn't just get to talk to you like that."
I sighed, a reluctant smile on my lips. It was nice of her to defend me, but starting a fist fight wasn't on my schedule for the evening. She began to smile too, the two of us amused with what just went down, but our happiness was short lived when Mayfair came out of nowhere, spotting us.
"There you are!" she shouted angrily.
I swallowed hard, losing my smile. "Mayfair, look–"
But before I could sweet talk my way out of it, she was already yelling for the nearby peacekeepers to get us, and there was no way for us to escape this time.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek as my dad paced back and forth, his anger threatening to burst out. Stupid Mayfair and her stupid big mouth. Because of her, Lucy Gray and I were sat before him in his office at the peacekeeper's base.
"Witnesses say they caught you both arguing with Billy Taupe," he finally spoke, stopping to look at me with a disappointed stare. "Then all hell broke loose."
"It wasn't her fault," I defended Lucy Gray, not wanting her to be punished because of my father's irritation with me.
"What the hell were you doing there, Y/N?!" he asked. "You're supposed to be at home! It's–" he checked his wristwatch, "–almost midnight!"
I avoided his eyes awkwardly, trying my best to sound believable. "I just wanted to hear the Covey perform and I knew you'd never let me go. It was only tonight. But then I saw Billy Taupe harassing Lucy Gray and I stepped in. Just tried to do what was right, like you taught me."
Okay, maybe a little on the nose, but it could work.
He sighed deeply, shaking his head. Deliberating momentarily, he finally said, "Go home, Y/N."
I raised my brows. "Lucy Gray too, right?" He narrowed his eyes warningly, but I continued, "Dad–"
"Now," he ordered in a voice that meant I wasn't to argue.
I glanced over at the quiet Covey girl beside me, and she nodded reassuringly.
"It's fine," she said in a low voice. "Thanks."
I frowned, feeling guilty, but was forced to obey my father and leave. As I closed his office door behind me, I lingered for a few seconds longer.
"You should stay out of trouble, Miss Baird," he told her authoritatively. "We don't tolerate–"
"Y/N, c'mon," my father's second in command found me listening, stopping me from hearing the rest of their conversation.
I nodded reluctantly, hoping Lucy Gray wouldn't be punished, and followed the peacekeeper outside.
My dad hadn't uttered another word about the Hob incident when he came that evening. I was waiting for him to yell at me or punish me or something, but he didn't. it wasn't until the next morning, after half my night was spent thinking of Lucy Gray, when my mum told me I was grounded for the next month, only to leave the house for chores. School was finished for the summer now, so I wouldn't even be able to see my friends and Lucy Gray that way.
It was annoying, especially because I just wanted to check on her, but I couldn't exactly fight my punishment when I was caught red handed.
That same morning, my mum forced me to accompany her to the markets to pick up some things. I was lucky enough to see Y/BF/N hanging around, also buying some things, and subtly slipped away to see her as my mum asked about some carrots.
She instantly pulled me in for a hug, mumbling, "I was sure I'd never see you again. I heard what happened last night."
"It wasn't intentional," I said with a sigh. "But I'm grounded for the next month, so you won't be seeing me much."
"Y/N, you've gotta be careful," she said in disapproving voice. "No more sneaking around. You're lucky it was just a fight and your dad didn't find out everything else."
"I know, I know," I mumbled, glancing over my shoulder to see my mum still talking to the vendor. "I should get back to my mum. She might kill me if she sees me doing something other than helping."
Y/BF/N tried not to laugh as she nodded. "Good luck, Y/N. I'll see you around. Please, try not to get an extended punishment."
"Yeah, yeah."
By the end of the first week of my punishment, I couldn't take not seeing Lucy Gray anymore. So, I concocted the perfect plan to visit her on the way back from nipping to the markets for my mum, sneaking a detour to her and the Covey's place in the Seam. I could always use the excuse that there was a queue at the meat stall if my mum asked why I took so long.
After buying everything I needed, I headed straight for Lucy Gray's, anticipating seeing her. I hoped she wouldn't be upset at me, though I wouldn't blame her if she was, considering my father was the one who had punished her. Or, at least I was assuming he had.
When I knocked on her front door, I held my breath until she opened up. As soon as she realised it was me, she exhaled deeply before pulling me in for a hug. I returned it instantly, closing my eyes and savouring her presence.
"I'm so sorry I couldn't see you sooner," I said quickly. "I've been grounded and I wasn't allowed out. How have you been?"
She shook her head. "It's okay, I've been okay. He didn't do anythin' when you left, just yelled at me a bit then sent me home with a warnin'. I think he was just annoyed at you."
I frowned, but was relieved she didn't get the brunt of it. "Good. I mean, not good obviously, but it could've been worse."
She cupped my cheek, thumb rubbing gently on my cheekbone. "I'm sorry you got caught. It was Mayfair. She's still pissed at me and now you by association."
"It's not your fault," I told her, taking her hand and kissing it gently. "Have they been annoying you still? Her and Billy Taupe?"
"Not since then, no."
"Good," I breathed out with relief, before hugging her again. "I can't stay for long. My mum will be expecting me back. I'll try to visit when I can, but I won't be able to sneak out for at least another month."
She chuckled quietly. "It's okay. Try not to get in trouble, darlin'."
I cracked a small smile. "I'll try."
My punishment ended quickly enough and everything returned to normal, kind of. My dad had bigger fish to fry with work, and seemed to forget about my mishap at the Hob, so his suspicions of me disappeared and I was able to sneak out again sometimes. My mum was satisfied after my punishment and didn't suspect a thing afterwards.
I enjoyed another few weeks of my relationship with Lucy Gray before the energy in District 12 grew rotten once Reaping Day arrived. It was the tenth annual Hunger Games which meant a boy and girl would be chosen to fight to the death with tributes from the other eleven districts. It wasn't a happy time, for obvious reasons, and it was the worst part of the summer break. It was a slim chance of being picked, but a chance nonetheless, and all I could think about was who would be chosen.
The morning of the reaping, my parents pulled me into a group hug at the breakfast table, and I couldn't help but hug them back.
"I'm praying for you," my dad mumbled as he kissed the top of my head.
I smiled a little, hoping to reassure him, but I knew it wasn't genuine. It was a hard time for everyone today, but I always pitied my parents the most, knowing if I was chosen, they'd have nobody left and, somehow, the thought of leaving them alone was scarier than facing the Hunger Games.
My dad left sooner than my mum and I, needing to make sure all the peacekeepers were doing their job in the square where I'd be lining up soon. And then after my mum and I finished eating, she walked me down to take my place. After exchanging a final hug with her, she went to join the other parents in the crowd and I was left to find my place with the other sixteen-year-old girls.
Before I could even attempt to, Lucy Gray found me. I was going to ask her how she was, even wish her luck, but I didn't get chance to as she approached me with a determined expression before kissing me hard. I accepted the kiss, though when she pulled away, her hard stare met mine.
"I'm in love with you," she said the words we'd never uttered to each other before.
I widened my eyes, surprised, but a peacekeeper broke us up before I could reply, and we were separated though in the same line. Of course, it soon made sense why she'd chosen now to tell me how she felt.
She was chosen as tribute.
It all happened so quickly after that. Lucy Gray's name being chosen, the snake she threw down Mayfair's back, the mayor slapping her onstage and in front of the cameras, her song of defiance, and then her getting ushered into the Justice Building never to be seen again.
She was really gone. She'd been chosen to participate in the Hunger Games, which clearly had something to do with Mayfair, and I would never see her again unless she won. I could barely believe it, still in shock, even when the reaping ended and everybody began to disperse or rejoin their families.
"Y/N, I'm so sorry," someone said, and I turned to see Y/BF/N approaching me with a frown, pulling me in for a hug.
I was admittedly still in disbelief – denial if you will. Because she couldn't just be gone, not when she'd told me how she felt only minutes ago.
"Y/N!"
It was my dad. Y/BF/N pulled away as he found me, soon taking her place. Again, I was too awestruck to return the gesture. Lucy Gray. My Lucy Gray. Gone.
"I'm so glad you didn't get chosen," my dad said with relief. "I'm sorry about your friend, but I'm glad it wasn't you."
His words only bounced off me. I was too numb to acknowledge much more after that, stuck in my own head as my mum appeared and began to lead me home. I was quiet the whole way, trying to replay the events that had just happened. Only when I reached home and went to my bedroom did I finally realise all I'd lost in a single moment. And that's when the tears finally arrived.
How could she be gone?
I was swinging on the swing gently, next to Y/BF/N in the park. I appreciated her company, feeling a little better having someone who understood the severity of what Lucy Gray being gone meant to me.
"She might have a chance," I muttered with a broken voice. "She could hide. Wait it out."
"Maybe," Y/BF/N said softly, but I knew she didn't agree. It didn't matter though. Hope was all I had left at this point.
Since yesterday at the reaping, I couldn't help but think about what Lucy Gray was doing. Was she scared? Was she strategising? Did she stand a chance against the other tributes?
Fucking Mayfair and her jealousy was the cause of this, it had to be. Why else would Lucy Gray throw a snake down her dress? It meant she must have known. It explained why she told me she loved me before going in. She'd discovered Mayfair's plan. Why didn't I tell her I loved her too? Now she'd never know.
"Do you wanna go to the Hob tonight?" Y/BF/N asked as I continued to sulk.
I shook my head. I wasn't sure I could ever go to the Hob again, not when it held so many bittersweet memories of Lucy Gray and I. It was where I'd made my first move on her, where I'd watched her perform many times, where we'd shared our first kiss. How could I step foot in there again without seeing her everywhere?
After spending some time lost in my thoughts with Y/BF/N to keep me company, I left to go home for dinner. But before I made it there, I found myself making a detour for the Seam, where the Covey lived. I hadn't spoken to them since before the reaping, and if I was taking Lucy Gray's fate hard, I could only imagine how her family were feeling.
Only after I knocked on did I realise I had no idea what to say. What if they didn't want to see me? Or if I said the wrong thing? What if I–?
"Y/N," Barb Azure said once she answered the door. "Hi."
I swallowed hard. "Hey, Barb Azure. I– I just wanted to stop by and see how you were all doing. I'm sorry for not showing up sooner... I'm so sorry about Lucy Gray. And I just want you to know that I'm here if you–"
She suddenly hugged me, and I was glad because it said more than words could. I relaxed into her embrace, feeling comforted in our shared grief. I wasn't alone, even though it felt like I was at first.
"I'm sorry too," she muttered apologetically. "I know she meant a lot to you. We're here for you too."
I nodded, squeezing her tight.
#lucy gray x reader#lucy gray baird imagine#lucy gray baird x reader#lucy gray baird#rachel zegler#the ballad of songbirds and snakes imagine#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games imagine#the hunger games
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The Hunter and The Witch~ Dean Winchester x F!reader
Description: After getting a call from John Winchester after no contact for months. The group gets led to a town in which a couple goes missing every year around the same time. But Sam doesn’t want to follow orders anymore, and the town still needs help.
Warnings: Cannon Violence, fight scene (tell me how i did, im still learning how to write it!), arguing, a little angst, talk of crimes, cursing (i think), talk about sacrifices and Pagan rituals (i fricken love learning about Paganism), Y/N gets a little snarky and cocky, use of magic and abilities
Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44, @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn
Word Count: …14,005
Scarecrow
(Master List, Prev. Chapter, Next Chapter)
“So you’re with the Winchesters?” Adeline says, her voice just as husky and amused as I remembered. It had been months since we talked, I'm surprised she wasn’t mad at me, though maybe she was and she was just hiding it well. “Yes.” I answer simply, waiting for the impending lecture.
“I should be surprised, but I'm not,” She remarks, and I can hear the smirk on her face.
“You know B/N said nearly the same thing!” I laughed lightly, but it soon died down when she didn't join in instead going completely quiet.
“You should have told me.” She says, venom on her tongue, but I know it’s out of worry. “No text, no call, not even a letter! I show up at your house. Not only are you not there I have to find out from your co-workers that you quit and haven’t been in contact with anyone. Did you quit because of those Winchesters? ‘Cause I swear to God I wil-“
“No!, quitting had nothing to do with them.” I cut her rant off, “Look Addie I'm sorry. I got so caught up in it all I didn’t think of telling anyone.” I sigh, leaving out the part I forgot I had people who cared about me—which is so stupid. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you or scare you. But that isn’t what I called for…”
Suddenly a sharp demanding knock sounds at my door. I don’t move for a second, watching it, “One sec, Addie” I place my phone down on the bed pulling back the heavy blankets. I tiptoe to the door, the rough carpet dragging on my feet. I take a deep breath preparing myself for the worst, I unlock the door, creaking it open just wide enough to see who is there.
Dean stands there, his eyes wide and his hair a little messy, still in his pajamas. A black shirt and some plaid pajama pants, though I figured he might have thrown those on before coming to my door- I knew he wasn’t foreign to sleeping with just a shirt and underwear on. I open the door further, “Are you okay? What happened?” I spew out.
“Get dressed. Dad called, ‘doesn't want us following him. He's going after the thing that killed Mom, says it’s a demon. He gave us a bunch of names and needs us to go investigate. Meet by the car.” He answers quickly. I stared at him, all of this was rushed, we barely got any sleep and we were already leaving rather quickly. He looks me over, nods, and then walks away back down the hall to his room, giving me no chance to ask if he was okay.
I closed the door a little shocked, making my way back to my phone and before it was even by my ear I heard the impatient click of her nails against some hard surface, “Now what” she huffed. Definitely mad at me. “I’ll have to call you back later” I sigh, “I need to go.”
“No you don’t get to just call me—“ She nearly yells but I cut her off again, “Addie I promise I’ll call you back.” The line goes silent for a beat and I wonder if she’s still there.
She sighs, “I’m worried about you.”
“I’m okay” I smiled sadly, yet even as the words passed my lips my stomach twisted itself, “I will call you.”
“Fine.” She huffs but she doesn't sound so convinced.
“I love you, Addie.” I say, and I mean it.
“I love you too. Stay safe, and call me!”
“Alright, just to double check all those names are couples?” I ask from the back seat of the Impala, copying notes down on a little notepad. “Three different couples. All went missing.” Dean confirms from the passenger seat. The darkness of the night cloaks us in its cold embrace.
“You said they were from all different states, Washington, New York, Colorado, and all went missing at the same time each year trying to travel across the country. But is it possible that it’s just a serial killer? Not to undermine your fathers findings.” I explain motioning my pen around as I speak, “I mean it is possible the suspect lives in Indiana, knows the roads well, and which way people go when road-tripping. Then being able to intercept them therefore fulfilling his or her urge. Then that kill can satisfy them till next year.”
“I guess, but they always disappeared in the second week of April. One year after another after another. That’s pretty weird.” Dean points out.
“Not necessarily, serial killers can have a certain connection to a date like an anniversary of something. Feeling only the need to do such an act during said time.” I ramble.
“Well, we’re still checking it out” Dean answers plainly, practically shutting down my theory. I guess it’s safer to check but it’s nighttime. I didn’t get any sleep, they barely got any sleep, and rushing over to Indiana in a 3-hour long car ride doesn't sound so fun if it turns out not to be a supernatural thing. “And this is the second week of April.” Sam remarks.
“Yep.” Dean nods.
“So, Dad is sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?” Sam asks, though it’s clear he knows the answer.
“Yahtzee. Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this? All the different obituaries Dad had to go through? The man’s a master.” Dean beams, flipping through the papers he had on the missing couples. He very clearly looked up to his Dad in some manner, even though he wasn’t deserving of such praise. I know Sam feels this way too, he never had an issue calling out John and he certainly can see all that’s wrong with how they grew up. The thing is I know Dean knew too, he was just trained to be loyal.
I watch Sam in the rearview mirror, his nostrils flaring in anger, his hands gripping the steering wheel harder until the knuckles turn white. He pulled the car off to the side of the road, sharply, my body jerking at the motion. “What are you doing?” Dean asks confused, straightening the way he sat.
“We’re not going to Indiana.” Sam says firmly.
“We’re not?” Dean replies, shock and amusement written on his features.
“No. We’re going to California.” Sam answers, “Dad called from a payphone. Sacramento area code.”
“Sam.” Dean warns.
“Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess, and Dad’s closing in, we’ve gotta be there. We’ve gotta help.” Sam reasons, and I don’t disagree.
“Dad doesn’t want our help.” Dean argues, his voice getting louder.
“I don’t care.” Sam answers rather calmly.
“He’s given us an order.” Dean bites, using one of his favorite excuses.
“I don’t care.” He repeats himself, this time more firmly, “We don’t always have to do what he says.”
“Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, to save lives, it’s important.” Dean tries to explain.
“Please stop fighting, why don’t we work this job, put all our energy into it. Work it quickly. Then immediately head to California, both of you win” I offer, always the person trying to cool the fight down and offer some sort of solution. But even as the words leave my mouth I know I’m wrong, this argument is more than working a case or chasing demons. This is years of grief built up. Sam half turns to view me, his eyes are pained and I almost think he might be close to tears, “It won’t be enough. You said it yourself. My Dad moves fast, if we don’t head there right now we’ll miss him entirely.” He looks between both of us now as he adds, “But I’m talking one week here, to get answers. To get revenge.”
Dean sighs, “Alright, look, I know how you feel.”
“Do you?” Sam spits, nearly yelling. “How old were you when Mom died? Four? Jess died six months ago. How the hell would you know how I feel?”
Oh. This is old grief on top of new grief, he hasn’t coped with the loss of his girlfriend not that we could have expected him to. It’s too soon. These emotions are too raw, too new. Dean matches his brother yelling, “Dad said it wasn’t safe. For any of us. I mean, he knows something that we don’t, so if he says to stay away, we stay away.”
“I don’t understand the blind faith you have in the man. I mean, it’s like you don’t even question him.” Sam argues, looking at his brother strangely.
“Yeah, it’s called being a good son!” Dean yells. The tension has exploded, the car falling quiet in its aftermath. My dislike for their father seemed to grow ten folds, to make your own child feel like that—
“Dean, that’s no—“ But before I can say anything more about it Sam exits the car. Slamming the door behind him. Dean and I get out of the car following him to the trunk where he unloads his things from. “You’re a selfish bastard, you know that? You just do whatever you want. Don’t care what anybody thinks.” Dean yells.
“Dean!” I snap, “This has gone far enough, you don’t get to say things like that, he’s your brother! Both of you calm down, please.” I didn’t want Sam to be treated like this, not from his brother who I know cares about him. “No. It’s okay, Y/N” Sam says calmly, his movements slowing as he stares his brother down, “Is that what you really think?”
“Yes, it is.” Dean gives a single sharp nod.
“Well.” Sam shuts the trunk, “then this selfish bastard is going to California.” he puts his backpack on and starts to walk away.
No. This can’t be happening. “Dean,” I say desperately, he has to apologize or stop him so they can talk it out. This isn’t my place but I can’t watch this happen. He looks out at his brother, “Sam, come on. You’re not serious”
“I am serious.” Sam responds, still walking away.
“It’s the middle of the night!” Dean yells out, “Hey, we’re taking off, I will leave your ass, you hear me?”
Sam stops walking, turning around, “That’s what I want you to do.”
I let out a frustrated groan, “What the hell is wrong with you both?! Just talk it out, we can come to some sort of agreement or—or reason with each other.” I practically beg. Both their eyes fall to me but Dean just responds with, “He’s made up his mind” his eyes turn back towards his brother, “Goodbye Sam.”
I stand frozen, eyes wide, this is not happening.
Dean grabs hold of my wrist, his hand warm despite the cold night, practically dragging me to the passenger side of the car. He waits for me to sit and buckle myself before closing the door and making his way to the driver's side. He gets in, putting the car in drive.
I watch Sam turn back around and walk away in the car's side mirror. Dean must have been watching too because he slams his fist on the steering wheel, takes a deep breath, and then does it again and again. I place my hand over his just as it connects with the steering wheel again. “Dean…” I say softly, but it comes out more like a plea. His hand goes still under mine, and when I turn my face to look at him, his eyes are glossy.
He does not turn to look at me though, keeping his eyes straight ahead at the dark road. “Dean” I say weakly, letting out a shaky breath feeling my own eyes welling up, “please, stop the car.” He listens, slamming on the brakes, my body jolting at the sharp stop. He snaps his head towards me, “Why so you could leave too?!”
I lean away from him retracting my hand, placing it on my lap, “No” I say quietly. But his reaction made me want to leave, the tears in my eyes finally fell over, spilling down my cheeks, “Do not take your anger out on me.” He sighs, turning his face away from me, cursing.
“I know you don’t want to hear this…but you must” I begin to say, having to pause to clear my voice of its shakiness, “I care for you both a lot but I’m so sick of you guys constantly fighting over something stupid when all you have to do is talk.”
“That's easy for you to say.” Dean snaps back, still looking away from me.
I huff, annoyed, “See! You get all standoffish instead of dealing with your emotions and I know that's what you’re used to but you don't have to be that way around me of all people.” He goes quiet, with no snappy comeback or even a grunt of annoyance. His jaw clenches and I wonder if that's from anger, trying to hold back tears, or both. “What if were destined to always hate each other,” he says quietly, and I know he means him and Sam. “He doesn't hate you, and I know you don't feel that way either,” I answer softly, even when I know what he truly means. He turns his head towards me, a single tear rolling down his cheek, “Then why does he keep leaving?!” he says through gritted teeth the last word coming out as if he spit venom.
In truth, I can't possibly know what he feels. He raised Sam and was there every moment of every day. He saw him take his first step and say his first word, brought him to school, fed him, put him to bed, and kept him safe. I was more like Sam in that aspect, I was the youngest with an older brother who took care of me and looked out for me. Honestly more than our own Dad, maybe that’s why he and Dean got along together so well- a shared understanding.
So, no, I could not understand exactly what he felt, not even a fraction of it. But even despite that I reached my hand out carefully, my fingertips barely brushing his cheek before pausing giving him time to pull away and hide if he wanted to. He didn't. I cup his cheek, whipping away another tear that fell. His green eyes seemed softer then like his anger had diminished enough but still lay beneath the tears. I don't have all the answers, “I know it may not seem like it, but he isn't leaving you. He went off to college ‘cause he wanted a chance away from this life. Even now he is going in hopes of stopping what started this all, he’s going to come back…your brothers you can't escape each other even if you wanted to.”
It's not a solution, and I don't expect it to help. But all I can do is hope it eases something in him. He leans his face into my hand, his eyes fluttering shut as he takes a deep breath in.
In one quick motion, I unbuckle my seat belt with my free hand. He must have known what I was going to do because he removed his face from my hand only to put the car in park, release his seat belt, and turn his body so I could hug him properly. I close the distance between us so I can wrap my arms around his neck, his body immediately reacts to my movements. His head falls to the crook of my neck, his arms wrapping around my waist. He pulls my body impossibly closer and tighter.
His breathing gives him away, his warm breath coming out uneven against my neck a wetness forming against where he resides. I don't say anything about him crying, or anything at all, I just move my hand up and down his back in soothing motions, hoping to ease him.
I do not know how I managed it but after he finished crying I got him to switch seats with me so he could rest while I drove. I've never driven the Impala before, maybe this was him showing me he trusted me even though I already knew he did, or maybe it was tiredness overtaking him. But the drive was pretty straightforward and it was dark so there wasn’t a worry about other cars.
He managed to drift off, which I was envious of but I was more proud of being able to drive Baby to notice my exhaustion. I even got to play music that wasn’t the usual rock songs he liked to play, which I don’t have any problem with but a change is nice sometimes (even if I played it very quietly so he could rest).
Just as we pulled into the small town he woke up, grumbling a “good morning” before staying silent the rest of the time. He went on his phone at one point, pulling up the contacts but ultimately he did not call anyone. “Ok, ready?” I ask, shutting off the car after pulling into a spot.
“Yeah” He nods, his voice still a little gravely from sleep. I hand him back his keys before exiting the car, the pure feeling of accomplishment pulling over me. I drove Baby accident-free and made it to the destination! I’m so good!!
We walked up to the only person in sight, an older man sitting on a wooden rocking chair in front of a café. Maybe it was too early for anyone else to be out, it certainly felt too early to be up though I guess I never really went to sleep.
“Let me guess,” Dean points to the store's sign that reads Scotty’s Café, “Scotty.” He looked proud of his stupid joke if you could even call it that, a dumb grin on his face. Scotty looks up at the sign and then back at us looking unamused, “Yep,”
“Hi, my name’s John Bonham and this is Pat Phillips” Dean introduces us both, and I want to glare at him for using a member from a popular band's name but if Scotty doesn't know then the glaring would give it away.
But of course, our luck has long run out, “Isn’t that the drummer for Led Zeppelin?” He looks at Dean pointedly then at me, “And his wife?” Now I really do glare at him, I didn’t know Pat Phillips was Bonham's wife! I barely knew Bonham was the drummer for Led Zeppelin, only remembering because of Dean rambling about it. Dean looks at me, eyes raised as if to silently say he didn’t think he would know. He turns back to Scotty, shock clear on his face, “Wow. Good. Classic rock fan.” Alright, he wasn’t even trying to deny it, great.
“What can I do for you, John?” Scotty asks anyway and I’m surprised he didn’t completely write us off. Dean takes out two pieces of paper from his pocket, unfolding the missing person's flyers. “I was wondering if, uh, you’d seen these people by chance.”
Scotty takes the flyers, barely studying them before answering, “Nope. Who are they?” Huh, that was a little weird, I would think he would want to think harder about it. I study the older man but his face reveals nothing, no fear in his eyes.
“They’re really close friends of ours, honestly we’re worried,” I explained while trying to test him, if he is responsible and he knows friends are looking for them and hasn’t given up he might crack a little. “They’ve been missing for a year now, passed somewhere through here. And we already asked around Salem and Scottsburg—“ But he doesn't let me finish my list, “Sorry.” He hands back the flyers to Dean, “We don’t get many strangers around here.”
Once more his eyes and face reveal nothing but still something about him is coming off weird.
“Scotty, you’ve got a smile that lights up a room, ‘anybody ever tell you that?” Dean tells him, earning a glare from the man himself. Dean chuckles, amusing himself at this point, “Never mind. See you around.”
I wait until we’re back in the car to say something, Dean taking his rightful place in the driver's seat, “Is it me or was that guy acting weird about this all?”
“Nah, he just doesn't have expressions,” Dean responds. I laughed, “That is not what I meant!”, I turned in my seat to face him, “Okay if someone came to you and was all like ‘my friend went missing and she’s been gone a long time and I think she passed through here do you know anything.’ Wouldn’t you really study the photo and try and think back, especially cause it’s a year ago. Scotty barely looked at the photo!”
He seems to contemplate what I said, “ ‘Could also just be a jerk.” he responds. I let out a frustrated sigh, “Dean.”
“Alright, you could be onto something sweetheart. We’ll keep asking around.”
Our next stop is a sort of Gas Station, all road trip essentials lining the walls from maps to mixed nuts. Aka the perfect place someone would stop at on their trip. “You sure they didn’t stop for gas or something?” Dean asks the older couple working.
“Nope, don’t remember ‘em. You said they were friends of yours?” The man who introduced himself as Harley responded.
“Yes, dear friends,” I answered.
“Did the guy have a tattoo?” A sweet blonde girl probably around our age asks, coming down the nearby stairs with a large box in her hand, her face just barely visible. “Yes, he did,” Dean responds. She puts the boxes on the counter and looks at the picture of the dark haired Vince then back up at the couple, “You remember? They were just married.”
Harley’s eyes suddenly widened making a little ‘oh’ sound, “You’re right. They did stop for gas. Weren’t here’ more than ten minutes.” Dean and I shared a look, now this guy wanted to suddenly remember. “You remember anything else?” Dean pushes further.
“I told ‘em how to get back to the Interstate. They left town.” Harley answers, finally sharing some truth. These townspeople were strange. “Would you be able to point us the same way?” I ask him, eyeing him carefully.
“Sure.”
Dean drives down the long road, slower than usual, both of us looking for anything unusual or suspicious. There was undoubtedly something going on whether it was supernatural or not. But there wasn’t much near us, just trees and endless roads.
We pass by what looks to be an orchard, apples hanging from the lush trees.
If I was kidnapping and possibly killing people I would choose somewhere along this Interstate, it was practically dead and no one would suspect anyone driving here even late at night. My thoughts are cut off by a violent buzzing noise coming from just behind me, most likely in the back seat. I turn to Dean, giving him a confused look, he turns his head to the back of the car looking instead of the road. “Dean. Road” I remind him, his eyes going back where they belong.
I unbuckle my seatbelt, shifting myself so that I was kneeling on the seat. I lean over the back seat, having to drop down low to reach his duffle bag, the top of the seat digging into my gut. My ass is definitely sticking up in the air and most likely close to Dean, but I ignore the embarrassment of that idea as I shuffle through his bag. I move one of his shirts around, finding the cause of the loud noise, “It’s your EMF” I call out hoping he can hear me even with my head still buried in the little space between the floor of the car and the backseat. I grab the box, the medal heavy in my hand.
I lift myself up and back to my seat half turned and sitting on my legs, it continues to buzz violently, the meter blaring to the red. “‘Think it’s the orchard” he announces, pulling the car off to the side of the road. We venture into the trees.
The ground was soft beneath my shoes, a light morning dew still clinging to the grass. If this was any other day or occasion I’d say it’s a rather nice orchard but the EMF has not stopped, and I think if it could go any further red it certainly would be there.
The trees were all lined up, apples scattered about the ground and a potent scent of rotten fruit following it. From where we pulled over it wasn’t hard to find the middle of the orchard, the trees cut down in almost a circle, except some paths that broke away in various directions.
A tall post stood in the middle, a creepy scarecrow on it. It looked rather human and full rather than stuffed with straw. Its face looked like a mask with stitches adorning it and hollow eyes, greasy long hair flowing from beneath his fedora. The only scarecrow-like thing about him was the fact he was tied to a wooden post and had a sort of jumper with patches on it, though the added black trench coat contradicted this. And in his hand was a sickle, what was meant to be used for agriculture only made him that much creepy.
Its head was leaned down, and looking up at it made it only seem like he was staring down at us with those empty eyes. “Dude, you're fugly.” Dean says out loud and I almost expect the thing to move or respond, but it doesn't. “Maybe you should say sorry to him.” I practically mumble to Dean. If it came to life I didn’t want a target on his back for insulting it, or mine if it thought I was guilty by association.
“Why would I say sorry?” he counters.
“So that he doesn't kill you if it comes to life!”
“I think it’d kill us either way”
Rationally I knew he was right, but the thought of something like a doll or in this case a scarecrow coming to life creeped me out a little too much, “Good point, but he is horrifying.”
“Yeah, horrifyingly ugly” He chuckles at his own joke, a stupid smile on his face. I try to hide my own laughing, not wanting to encourage him.
“I think I see something,” He murmurs. He moves back, turning to the closest tree with a ladder against it. He picks it up as if it weighs nothing, placing it right next to the scarecrow. He climbs it until he’s at eye level with the thing. I watch his eyes fall to the hand that held the sickle, his gaze at its wrist. Its sleeve ripped a bit revealing leathered “skin” and a sort of design.
I wrack my brain for any customs or cultures that decorate scarecrows beyond just its clothing and face, but I couldn’t come up with anything. Why would anyone put a design on a scarecrow's wrist?
Dean pulls out a paper from the inside of his jacket, unfolding it swiftly before placing it near the thing, comparing the two. “Look who has a nice tat.” he says, turning the paper down so I could see. He held Vince’s missing poster, the young man holding a mug in his hand the perfect pose to see his tattoo. Detailed ink with all sorts of shapes I could even begin to describe, I look back up at the scarecrows tattoo. The two are the exact same, far too alike to be any sort of coincidence.
“Nice tat indeed.”
We immediately got in the car and turned around back to the town. Something was going on and someone was causing it. Now Dean pulls the car into the local gas station. Turning it off and exiting, I nearly stay put in the passenger seat until I see the same blonde girl from before walking up to the car. We needed answers and she seemed to be the only one willing to help.
I exit the car, keeping the door open as I lean my arms on the roof of the car. “You’re back” she greeted, smiling. “Never left.” He replies smoothly.
“Still looking for your friends?” She asks, acknowledging us both. “Yup, call it stubbornness or what have you but we aren’t given up.” I respond, still pushing the same agenda as before. “I’d call that a good friend,” she smiles.
I don’t think she’s involved in all this, she’s willing to answer our questions when no one else was and she seemed to genuinely care. If she was involved then she was quite the actor. “You mind fillin’ her up there, Emily?” Dean asks her, nodding his head towards the car. The nameplate necklace she wore came into view as she grabbed the pump and began to fill the tank. That’s how he knew her name.
“Did you grow up here?” I ask, starting back up conversation.
“I came here when I was thirteen. I lost my parents. Car accident. My aunt and uncle took me in.” She explains shortly.
“They’re nice people.” Dean replies plainly. She nods as she speaks, “Everybody’s nice here.”
“So, what, it’s the, uh, perfect little town?” Dean shrugs, nonchalantly.
“Well, you know, it’s the boonies. But I love it.” she pauses for a moment, “I mean, the towns around us, people are losing their homes, their farms. But here, it’s almost like we’re blessed.”
Dean turns his head towards me, giving me a look. This definitely was weird, I mean how could every town around them be failing but not here?Were they making sacrifices to the scarecrow? It would make sense considering its tattoo. Dean turns back around to Emily, “Hey, you been out to the orchard? ‘You seen that scarecrow?” We were thinking the same thing.
“Yeah, it creeps me out.” She answers her nose scrunching. “You can say that again” I laugh, “Do you know who owns it?”
“I don’t know. It’s just always been there.” She shrugs.
He nods to something behind her, I turn my gaze to it, my eyes landing on a red van parked by a garage, “That your aunt and uncle’s?” he asks.
She shakes her head, “Customer. Had some car troubles.” That’s a little too convenient, “Is it a couple by any chance? A guy and a girl?” I ask, worried that they might be the town's next victims.
She nods even as her face twists with confusion, “Mmhmm.”
As soon as the Impala's tank was filled, and Emily gestured toward the couple's location, we wasted no time heading straight there. Dean opens the glass door for me, the little welcome bell ringing above us. I walk in first, immediately being hit with the sweet smell of baked goods, the culprit of it being a thick piece of apple pie that Scotty delivered to a couple sitting by the window.
“Oh, hey, Scotty. Can I get a coffee, black?” Dean greets, walking in behind me, adding “And a green tea…actually while you’re at it some of that pie too.” I have to hold back the smile that wants to escape onto my face, he was being slightly annoying on purpose which is proved further when Scotty gives him a nasty look before walking away. But beyond that I’m surprised Dean knew what I wanted, yes I drank tea quite often but how did he know I was feeling that flavor in particular?
He moves to sit at a table right next to the couple, I sit in the chair next to him trying to come up with a conversation starter for the people only a table away. I mean how do you say ‘hey you’re in danger! haha, please leave town’ to someone without them thinking you're actually insane? I am pulled out of my thoughts at the feeling of my chair moving, a soft scratching noise below it. Immediately I see Deans hand at the side of my chair, pulling me closer to him without saying or looking at me.
I try to ignore his strange antics and the butterflies that flutter in the depths of my stomach at his movement as he talks to the dark haired couple, “How ya doin’?” God for someone whose usually so smooth he was being so awkward. They share a weird look clearly looking uncomfortable before waving and smiling. But their uninterest in starting a conversation with strangers is very obvious as the girl leans closer to her boyfriend placing her arm up to lean her head on as if to block us out.
“Just passing through?” Dean continues, ignoring their reactions. “Road trip.” The girl answers plainly, clearly trying to shut down the conversation.
“Hm.” Dean hums his hand suddenly finding my thigh. My heart lurches, my leg twitching slightly at the sudden movement but he just gives me a little squeeze before readjusting his hold. Splaying his warm hand against my thigh, his fingers hooking onto the inside of my leg as he pulls them apart slightly, the gap just big enough to hold my thigh comfortably. He gives me another squeeze as if he was testing the feel of me again…oh god.
My brain seemed to short circuit, any logical thoughts I had turning into a mass space of blankness and static. I swallowed roughly, my heart beating out of my chest and the butterflies in my stomach flying frantically in warmth. This was just for a cover, if we acted as a couple too then they might feel more comfortable and inclined to talk with us, I try to reason with myself. But god when did my face get all warm? Stay focused Y/N, stay focused, I repeat to myself in my head. This wasn’t the time. Can’t be thinking of my feelings for him or the fact that this was only making me feel more desperate for him. Stay focused.
“Us too” He adds, and I have to think for a second what he’s talking about…Oh yes, we are also on a road trip, yeah.
Scotty walks over with a pitcher of something brownish orange, maybe it was apple cider considering this town clearly has a large supply of it. He moves right past us, refilling the couples cups, “I’m sure these people want to eat in peace.” he scolds us.
“Just a little friendly conversation.” Dean smiles up at the grumpy man who begins to walk away, “Oh, and that coffee and tea, too, man. Thanks.” Scotty just stares at him, the scowl on his face deepening, but he doesn't say anything as he walks away fully. “So, what brings you to town?” I ask softly, a sweet smile on my face in hopes of erasing the awkwardness in the air.
The girl answers, “We just stopped for gas. And, uh, the guy at the gas station saved our lives.”
“Aw, really!” I respond trying to sound amused.
The guy answers this time, “Yeah, one of our brake lines was leaking. We had no idea. He was fixing it for us.”
“That’s really sweet” I nod with a smile even as concern eats at me. They were definitely going to be the next victims. But I’m also terribly confused, I have no idea what he was talking about. I'm guessing a broken brake line means you won’t be able to stop the car but I didn’t know it could leak…
“Yeah.” The man nods trying to go back to his food.
All at once it hits me, I nearly want to kick myself for not thinking about it right away. I want to blame it on Dean's hand placement but it was most likely my lack of sleep because I was in fact enjoying his hand on my thigh…
This small town in Indiana was practicing Pagan rituals, and as much as I hate to admit it learning about Pagans was one of my favorite things to do.
“So, how long till you’re up and runnin’?” Dean asks them.
“Sundown.”
It was common in Paganism to sacrifice something or someone to the gods. It was a time where they didn’t understand why certain things happened like crops dying, so they blamed this on not respecting the Gods enough. When the real cause could have been for a number of reasons from lack of water to not crop rotating…
“Really.” Dean pauses for a minute, “To fix a brake line?” He receives a nod. “I mean, you know, I know a thing or two about cars. I could probably have you up and running in about an hour. I wouldn’t charge you anything.” He offers.
…However in terms of supernatural beings when these sacrifices were made it did work, whether or not it was the Gods “cursing” them or just not understanding agriculture. Either way it did work, the gods answered, and the bigger the sacrifice the bigger the payout which is why they typically did human sacrifices, sometimes even on a mass scale.
“You know, thanks a lot, but I think we’d rather have a mechanic do it.” The girl replies, looking nervously at her boyfriend.
“Are you sure?” I chime in, “He really is good, I mean you should see the level of care he puts into his own car. ‘Keeping it all good even though it’s decades older than him, he even keeps my old car in check.” I knew with every word I was stroking his ego, but it was true. Beyond his own car I can count on two hands the amount of times he helped with my old Volkswagen Beetle, he’s probably the reason why it still works.
In the corner of my eye I can see his cocky sexy grin, he squeezes my thigh once more and my thoughts fizzle out again as a kaleidoscope of butterflies flutters in my gut. Jesus Christ, Dean Winchester will be the death of me without knowing.
“Yeah we’re sure” The girl insists.
“Sure.” Dean pauses, his smile dropping, “You know, it’s just that these roads. They’re not real safe at night.” I guess he figures they won’t listen any other way. The couple exchanged a look, “I’m sorry?”
Dean leans in closer, “I know it sounds strange, but, uh—you might be in danger.”
The man finally snaps, looking annoyed, “Look, we’re trying to eat. Okay?”
“Yeah.” Dean says disappointingly, "You know, my brother could give you this puppy dog look, and you’d just buy right into it.” The couple looks at him strangely.
The bell above the door rings and I figure we don’t have much time left, “Look we aren’t trying to bother you and ruin your day, okay, I’m sorry.” I start, looking back at the Sheriff who had walked in. I lean in, speaking just low enough for them to hear, “But you really are in danger, for the last couple of years couples have gone missing this time of year repeatedly withou—“
“I’d like a word with you both.” The sheriff practically booms. I go quiet giving the couple a warning look both to say to listen to what I said and to not bring anything up now, they look scared and hesitant.
“Come on. I’m having a bad day already, ‘m just tryna make it better with my girlfriend” Dean reasons, I know it’s a lie but the way the word slipped so easily from his lips made my heart flutter.
“You know what would make it worse?” The sheriff replies. Dean releases his hold on my thigh, a tingling feeling taking its place. We got up and followed the man outside then following his orders, he was going to follow us out of town and we weren’t allowed back.
We drive down the interstate, both knowing we would turn back once it was clear. But for now we trudge toward passing by a sign that says ‘Thanks for visiting Burkittsville.’ I check the side mirror, the sheriff making a U-turn, heading back to town. Great.
“Should we find a motel nearby and return at night?” I ask, knowing the couple wouldn’t have a car to leave with ‘till sundown.
“Yeah, you need sleep” He hums. I wonder if he’s saying that because he knows I haven't slept at all. “Unfortunately I will not be sleeping ‘cause I have a very good idea on what’s going on and I wanna research further” I answer, opening up the glovebox to pull out the map that resided there.
I unfold it, tracking down Indiana and then the small town we just left, following the colored lines. “I think if we stay straight we’ll be at a rest stop in about 15 mins” I mumble, hopefully reading it right.
“Anyways!” I place the map down in my lap, “I’m very sure this town is sacrificing the couples to a Pagan God.”
“‘Thinking the same,” He answers.
“Okay, good. Now I'm not 100% sure i’m right on which one it is ‘cause there’s a lot of agricultural Gods as well as Gods of the woods, but the second I can search it up I’ll confirm it.” I ramble, talking with my hands.
“To be honest, sweetheart, ‘don’t know much about Norse Gods except the basics.”
“Oh don’t you worry, I got this” I beam.
I grumble for the fifth time typing different wording into the search bar. I want to scream as the page turns blank, the only words on the screen being ‘No Results.’
“What is it?” Dean asks from where he lays in his bed his fathers journal open, looking for anything on Norse Gods.
“Somehow there is nothing on Vanir Gods and when I mean nothing I mean nothing!” I get up from my bed walking the short distance to his, I climb on it putting my legs beneath me. I turned my laptop towards him, showing him the screen, “See!”
His eyebrows scrunch up looking just as confused as I feel, “I know we aren’t in the town anymore but do you think it’s somehow related?” I ask.
“Maybe. We aren’t that far from Burkittsville” He answers, taking my laptop and searching up ‘Books about Vanir Gods’ but again the same message pops up ‘No Results.’
He types in ‘Books about Norse Gods’ a couple searches pop up the main one being a thick book only available in a college in Burkittsville. “That’s so strange.” I mumble, I mean how could they be interfering with the internet.
“If they can make sacrifices to a god I’m guessing they could mess with google of all things. We’ll go there later” Dean responds and I’m sure he means after making sure the couple is safe. He closes my laptop, “You should sleep, I’ll wake you”
I studied him for a moment, and he was right. I should sleep, it sounds wonderful actually. I nod getting up, I don’t even bother changing into comfortable clothes or even taking off my bra I just crawl underneath the covers of my bed. “Good night, Dean.” But it was hardly close to night time.
He smiles, “ ‘Night baby.”
Dean sped down the interstate, the sun was nearly down and we would have been there on time if not for all the semi trucks in the truck stop not knowing how to exit. You really think it wouldn’t be so hard.
Continuing by the vast orchard, we scanned for a red van parked on the side, hoping to beat them there.
After some more driving, we eventually stumbled upon the deserted car, devoid of anyone. He stopped the car short even as we still had multiple feet between us and the vacant van.
He turns the car off and I meet him by the trunk, he hands me a shotgun, “Go through here, cut ‘em off--get in front” he rattles off the plan as he cocks his own gun. I nod, cocking my gun before shutting the trunk as he takes the lead.
I catch up to him, running at his side, passing through each tree as my shoes crush the fallen apples with a satisfying crunch.
I squint my eyes, the dark haired couple too far away to get there before the dark figure of the scarecrow does. It was a clear distance away, I could bring us there in a moment's time. I’ve practiced this sort of distance before, it was doable, and nothing like the asylum. “Get ready to shoot 45 degrees to your left” I shouted, reaching a hand out to grasp Dean's shoulder. He meets my eyes with a look of determination hard in his irises. I focus back ahead on the target, forcing my energy there.
The air ripples around us even as we continue to run, in a blink of an eye we’re in front of the couple. A loud shot rings out, Dean shoots the thing square in the chest. But all it does is stumble back before it continues to walk forward.
Its head was tilted slightly, that greasy hair dangling on his shoulders, the sickle gripped tightly in its leathery hand. “Get back to your car!” I yell behind me, “Go!” I looked behind me for a split second, they were running and we weren’t too far from the orchards clearing.
Almost at the same time Dean and I start walking backward away from the horrifying thing. I raise my shotgun up, shooting it right in its chest as Dean cocks his gun again. But these salt bullets were doing nothing and was hardly buying us time, “Get ready to run!” Dean orders as he shoots the thing again.
Not needing to tell me twice I shift my footing, running towards the clearing right after the couple. Beyond Dean's own shoes hitting the ground hard next to me I could hear the subtle click of its boots walking the ground. Now I know how every character in Halloween felt as Myers went after them.
I do the thing that you should never do in a horror movie and turn my head to see how close the scarecrow was. It couldn’t be more than 10 feet away, “Screw this” I mumble, twisting my footing again so I could walk backwards as it came towards us. I uncomfortably hold the gun in the crook of my arm as I extend my hands forward, effortlessly calling upon my abilities as I shoot out pure energy from my hands.
The scarecrow goes flying what seems like 100 or more feet, landing harshly on its back. I want to celebrate and get all cocky but this was dealing with Norse Gods and I didn’t particularly feel like getting on their nerves at the moment.
I make it to the clearing, my chest heaving from the running and use of powers. Man, water would be good right now.
A familiar arm wraps around my shoulder, the crook of his arm touching my neck as he brings me into his side. His chest heaves too, “Good job.” The praise makes my heart swell but the sweet moment is cut off by the man in the couple panting, “What—what the hell was that?” He points between the orchard and me. Double yikes.
“Don’t ask.” Dean responds.
We sit in the Impala just outside of town so we wouldn’t technically get in trouble.
After helping the couple officially leave, thank god, we went back to the motel. It would be hours until the college opened so we really just had to wait. We ate at some all night diner before showering and sleeping for a couple more hours. We woke early, I threw on some low rise black jeans and a fitted black & gray long sleeve baseball tee, heading out to grab some coffee before heading back close to town to wait.
Dean had called Sam, placing his phone on speaker and positioning it in the middle of the dashboard so we could both hear and speak. He called his brother on his own accord to talk about the “hunt” and I didn’t dare say anything about it knowing he would just brush it off. The call was certainly more than just letting him know how the hunt was going. “The scarecrow climbed off its cross?” Sam asks.
“Yeah, I’m tellin’ ya. Burkittsville, Indiana. Fun Town.” Dean muses, taking a sip of coffee from his cup.
“It didn’t kill the couple, did it?” Sam responded concerned.
“God no” I scuff.
“We can cope without you, you know.” Dean adds.
“So, something must be animating it. A spirit.” Sam theorizes.
“No, it’s more than a spirit. It’s a god. A Pagan god, anyway.” Dean answers.
“What makes you say that?”
I answer this time, “There’s a lot that points to it, from annual cycle killings to the choice of victims. And I’m sure you know human sacrifices were common in Paganism especially when it comes to fertility. There were even mass sacrifices to even protect them and or help them with wars.”
I begin to speak with my hands again, getting more animated as I get excited, “And according to a local all the towns around them are failing in multiple degrees especially in agriculture, while Burkittsville remains flourishing largely in their apple department. As seen not only through their extensive orchard but their numerous apple products, they practically gloat upon it.”
“And you should see the locals. The way they treated this couple. Fattenin’ ‘em up like a Christmas turkey.” Dean adds in.
“The last meal. Given to sacrificial victims.” Sam acknowledges.
Dean answers, “Yeah, we’re thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some Pagan god.”
“So, a god possesses the scarecrow…” Sam starts, Dean adding in with their usual weird finishing each other's sentences, “And the scarecrow takes its sacrifice. And for another year, the crops won’t wilt, and disease won’t spread.”
“Do you know which god you’re dealing with?” Sam asks.
“Well, there’s hundreds of Gods.” I answer, “But it will most likely align with Norse Paganism which are broken up into two sections one of them being Vanir Gods. From what I remember they’re Gods of fertility, wealth, wisdom and two other things. I don’t remember too much and unfortunately there’s an issue with the internet so I can’t even confirm my theory.”
Sam laughs, “What do you mean issue?”
“Long story,” Dean responds, “But we’re on our way to a local community college, they have a book on Norse Gods there. You know, since we don’t have our geek boy to figure out the issue with the internet crap.”
Sam laughs again, “You know, if you’re hinting you need my help, just ask.”
“I’m not hinting anything.” Dean replies quickly with a fake annoyance to his voice, “Actually, uh—“ He looks at me as if he isn’t sure what to say, I nod my head encouragingly, “I want you to know….I mean, don’t think….”
“Yeah. I’m sorry, too.” Sam says seriously, seemingly knowing what his brother was struggling to say.
Dean looks to his hands cradling his coffee cup to straight ahead through the windshield, “Sam. You were right. You gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life.” I don’t try to bite back my smile, he wasn’t looking to begin with, either way I was proud of him.
“Are you serious?” Sam asks, probably never expecting to hear that.
“You’ve always known what you want. And you go after it. You stand up to Dad. And you always have. Hell, I wish I—“ He cuts himself off, sighing, “anyway….I admire that about you. I’m proud of you, Sammy.”
“I don’t even know what to say.” Sam says quietly.
“Say you’ll take care of yourself.”
“I will.”
“Call me when you find Dad.”
“Ok.” Sam responds, though he sounds upset, "Bye, Dean.”
He collects his phone from the dashboard, hanging up. He catches me staring, “What?” I don’t answer, just smile at him, “No. Don’t give me that happy go lucky sweet look.”
“Oh come on!” I laugh, “That was really sweet of you Dean! So can’t a girl be proud of her boy.”
He rolls his eyes, placing his coffee in the cupholder before crossing his arms across his chest, but his face gives him away a light pink gracing his cheeks. “You are a sweetie pie” I declare, placing a hand on his shoulder. He removes one of his arms from their own hold, placing a warm hand on top of mine, grasping it gently to remove it, “I’m not.” he bites. His tough boy act was so cute.
“If you say so” I shrug, the smile on my face giving away the fact that this wasn’t me giving up on the fact he was a total softy. He turns his head away, facing his window, mumbling something incoherent.
I want to start skipping into the library, who knew a community college would have such a nice one. Though to be fair I would say any library was nice as long as it was in good shape. I make my way to the librarian's desk, “Hello!” I greet, my excitement getting the best of me, “Could you point us to the books on Paganism? Or even just Norse mythology?”
The old woman at the desk looks at me a little strangely, maybe I came off too strong. But her expression contorts into a small smile, “One of our dear old professors would have those sorts of books, lucky for you sweetie I think he’s free right now. I can just give him a little call.”
I look back at Dean, who stands a little bit behind me, he shrugs, I guess it wouldn’t hurt talking to a professor about this. Especially if it meant looking at that book.
I turn back to the old librarian, “Yes please.” But she already placed the phone back in its holder, “He’ll be right down.” Oh. Okay, this woman works fast. “You can take a seat there, it’ll be a moment” she points to just behind us at a mostly empty table. “Thank you!” I smile.
“It’s not every day I get a research question on Pagan ideology.” Professor Williams says, as he leads us to his classroom.
“Yeah, well, call it a hobby.” Dean responds, not sounding all that amused.
“Well what are you looking for in particular?” The older man asks.
“Uh, local lore, maybe” Dean answers, looking at me to jump in at any time but I don’t know if I want to put all my eggs in one basket. We had to choose who we could trust here, and maybe I shouldn’t have been so forward with the nice librarian but doing so made getting to the book easier. I hope. “I’m afraid Indiana isn’t really known for its Pagan worship.” He answers.
I can already feel this being a painfully slow lead to the answer, “You know, actually,” I began, “I was interested in the Vanir Gods. It struck me the other day and when I can’t get an easy answer for something I go digging.” The professor stops in his tracts, turning to face me, “Very well. I was not expecting to hear such a clear topic.”
I laugh a little uncomfortably, “I just like to learn.”
We follow him down the rest of the long hallway into his classroom. A small room with desks and chairs lined in order while a large whiteboard rested on the long wall. He beckons us over to his desk, a thick and long brown leather bound book lying there, “Well, let’s see.” He leafs through a couple of pages seeking what seems to be the chapter he’s looking for, “Ah ha, there we are” he declares, turning the book towards us.
I read the first page quickly, breezing through information I already knew. I turn to the next page only to be met with a picture of a scarecrow-like thing on a post in a field with farmers surrounding it. I read out loud the text just below the image, “The Vanir were Norse gods of protection and prosperity, keeping the local settlements safe from harm. Some villages built effigies of the Vanir in their fields. Other villages practiced human sacrifice. One male, and one female.”
I looked up from the book catching Dean's eyes, this was definitely it. “This particular Vanir that’s energy sprung from the sacred tree?” Dean asks, gaze flipping to the man in question.
“Well, Pagans believed all sorts of things were infused with magic.” He answers not all that helpfully.
“So what would happen if the sacred tree was torched? You think it’d kill the god?” Dean questions further. He’s really just putting it all out there. The professor laughs, “Son, these are just legends we’re discussing.”
“Yes of course” I fake laugh along with him, “My, uh, friend here just loves the hypotheticals, you know?”
“I do,” Dean nods seriously. The professor just looks at us strangely. God I really hope he just thinks we’re weird people. “Listen, thank you very much.” Dean says, holding out his hand. The professor takes it, giving what seems like a firm handshake before offering one to me, “Yes, thank you so much,” I say sincerely, taking his hand for a single awkward handshake.
I follow Dean to the door, an odd feeling settling itself in my gut as if something was about to happen. He opens the door and the feeling spikes, my heart jumping at the simple action. What the hell. I want to ignore it, push it to the back of mind and chalk it up to just random anxiety. But I can’t, genuine fear twists itself around within me, clawing at the walls of my stomach as if to warn me. Just as my foot breeches the hallway everything in me screams to turn around.
I listen to my body, turning around as I take a half step back, a large book only inches from my face. A small breathy squeak leaves my lips as I duck, a loud bang and tumble coming from beside me. This was a trap.
Using my bent knees as leverage as well as the attackers stumbling at missing me, I latch on to their forearms pushing up and out still holding on tightly as I lift my leg and kick. My foot connects with the soft expanse of the person's stomach, letting go of his arms at the same time. It was no doubt the professor as he was the only one in the room with us. I watch him stumble backwards, knocking into his desk roughly.
My brain works quickly, adrenaline rushing through my veins. The bang and tumble I heard must have been someone attacking Dea—I twisted my upper body to the right, catching the sheriff's wrist before the blunt of his gun could hit me too. I didn’t need to look to know he already got Dean. God this town was crooked.
I bring his arm down closer to my level, twisting it in an attempt to put it behind him, but he uses his free hand to left hook me, his fist connecting with my cheekbone. I let go of his arm at the action, my hand instinctively going to my cheek that stinged until something cold clinked onto my wrist. I knew it was handcuffs but my eyes went to my wrist anyways just as he clicked into place the other half of the cuff.
He looked smug, as if he had won. He must have been stupid. Not that it changed much but my hands were cuffed in front of me, magic aside it couldn’t have stopped me. I tilt my head slightly, giving him a ‘seriously?’ look before kicking him where the sun doesn't shine, immediately he doubles over holding onto his crotch with teary eyes. I guess you could add assaulting a police officer to my list of crimes, he may have been a sheriff but it probably still counted.
He would be down at least for a minute or more so I turned back to the professor who seemed to be stalking closer with the same book raised as if he was trying to kill a bug. The second my eyes landed on him he stopped moving, I foiled his plan. “Could you stop with the book?!” I exclaim. He seems to contemplate what I said, his eyes slipping from me to something behind me. He was not good at this fighting thing.
Thin but strong arms wrap around me, forcing my arms to my chest. I flailed around trying to shake the guy off, I didn’t want to use my magic yet. The less they knew the better. “Watch, she’s a kicker” the professor warns. “I know” the somewhat familiar voice of the sheriff huffed from behind me, his chest rumbling with each word. His chest was rising and falling fast, I wonder if he fully recovered from my crotch attack or if he was pushing through.
All at once I stop flailing, a smirk making its way on my face, and before anyone can do or say anything more I bite down hard on the sheriff's hand, my neck bending at a weird angle to reach him. He yells letting me go to hold his wounded limb.
I take a couple steps away from both of them, “I’m also a biter,” I muse. I look between both men, neither of them seeming to know what to do. They hadn’t expected this. “Which one of you wants to go next?” I point between either of them, the handcuffs rattling with my movement, “ ‘cause I can go all day, baby.”
They look at each other, worried in their eyes. The sheriff's throat bobbed with a hard auditable gulp. “Aw, don’t tell me you’re scared” I tease, smirking viciously, I was having too much fun with this.
The sheriff reaches slowly for his gun, the one he must have put back after I kicked him. I watch him do it, he’d pull it but wouldn’t shoot and ask me to stand down or come with him. He expects me to be afraid of the gun, at the prospect of being shot which is why he assumes it would work. He pulls it out, holding it firmly out in front of him aiming for my chest, “Get on your knees. Hands behind your head!” he yells. How predictable.
The smirk on my face only deepens, I lift an eyebrow at him, “If you wanted me on my knees so badly you could’ve just asked.” I was never usually so flirty or straightforward, but this was just so fun. I knew I was getting cocky. Maybe I was hanging around Dean too much. “Knees now!” He yells again. At this point he was just feeding me these easy openings. A laugh escapes my lips, I must look like a psychopath.
He readjusts the gun in his hand, his finger scooting back towards the trigger, but he couldn’t shoot, not when they wanted to use Dean and I as sacrifices. “Last chance!” He warns. Last chance indeed.
I catch my eyes flaring purple in his shiny revolver, a look of horror and confusion apparent on his face. A look I was used to, and as much as it normally would upset me I could use it now. The air fizzled around me, maybe I was getting better at this, in a blink of an eye I was right behind him. I kick the back of his knee, the man buckling under his own weight, his gun going off. The bullet hits the ceiling light right above where I stood only moments before.
Shards of glass fall, the light flickering for dominance before eventually going dark. I easily grasp the gun from his hand, turning the safety back on before sliding it across the floor out of the room. Without a plan to actually hurt the man, I used what he gave me, pressing the linked chains of the handcuffs to his neck as I brought the back of his head to my stomach.
He grunts against my hold his hands trying to pry the chain off as his eyes search the professors for help, but his partner backs away hands up in defense. I loosen up my hold, I wasn’t trying to severely hurt the guy or kill him for that matter. “‘Had enough?” I ask, mostly teasing.
Suddenly a soft plush material is pressed to my face, I move to fight or teleport away but my limbs suddenly feel too heavy and my eyes begin to droop. My body feels like it’s falling even as I stand in place, I think. My eyes begin to flutter close, my legs giving out on me. The world turns black.
My head feels fuzzy. My eyes are too heavy to open just yet. It smelt bad, a musty smell combined with a farm-like smell. The ground was comfortable.
I try to open my eyes but they flutter shut again. Someones calling my name, they’re too far away…need to come closer. My head was pounding.
Something suddenly brushes into my hair repeatedly. Even still half gone, fear spikes in me. My eyes shoot open, my upper body jolting up into a seated position. Familiar hands hold my shoulders as I sway, the room seeming to move back and forth, “It's okay, you’re okay” Dean says soothingly. I stare at him, his features becoming less and less blurry as I blink.
He cups my face gently, his fingers barely brushing against my skin. He seems to study me, most likely noting the bruise that is undoubtedly forming where I was hit. His thumb brushes over my wounded cheekbone gently, yet even so I wince sucking in a breath between my teeth. “Sorry” he mumbles, meeting my eyes. I hum, my tongue feeling too heavy to utter a word. “What happened to you?” he asks softly.
I swallow, trying to force my tongue to work enough to answer but my words still come out too quietly, “You went down first. I fought, but I think someone else came. They covered my mouth with a thingy, maybe they used, um, what is it called?” My thoughts felt all jumbled still, fog covering the expanse of my brain. My head was killing me too much to think straight. He practically scowls, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips turned down in a frown, “Chloroform” he answers. I smile weakly, “yeah that.”
I want to lay down. The room was still spinning, my head hurt. This was embarrassing, I had gotten all confident before– feeling invincible only to be drugged. I remove Dean's hands from my face, holding them instead as I place them on his lap. I looked around us, the room might be moving but it was obvious enough it was some sort of basement. No, a cellar. It was dark and empty, except for the straws of hay lying around. And just across from us was a small staircase up to what seemed like cellar doors. “It's locked,” Dean says, noticing my stare. Of course it is.
But if I could just right my mind, clear the fog, I could get us out easy peasy. Almost as if I willed it, the cellar doors creek open. The sunlight floods through, I try to block it with my hand, the sudden light worsening my headache if that was even possible. I need Advil. Dean lets go of my hand getting up quickly, just watching the quick movement makes me want to vomit. I blink slowly, following suit, with a lot of stumbling I make it to my feet even as it feels like the room is pulling me down.
Four jerks stand just outside the cellar, Harley and Stacy, Scotty, and the Sheriff. Harley moves close to the stairs as if he's about to descend them before getting abruptly stopped by the Sheriff, “I wouldn’t, she's feisty.” Dean laughs at that, my assault on the man very apparent by the various bruises he displayed. I would smirk or laugh too if it didn't feel like I was using all my energy to keep me standing. Harley knocks the Sheriff's hand off but makes no move to get closer, “She’s also still drugged” he bites. “Wrong,” I pointed a finger up, feeling more like a drunk as I spoke, “This would be the side effects or aftermath of Chloroform.” All four of them looked at me blankly, maybe I was wrong. I don't know.
“I hope you both know this is for the common good,” Stacy nods. I furrow my eyebrows, “Thanks for the preaching, lady. It really eases the brain into all this sacrificial nonsense.”
“That's enough” she replies rather calmly before nodding to the others. They begin to close the cellar doors, darkness enveloping us. I sat down rather quickly, landing on my butt harshly, “I'm surprised you didn't say anything snarky to them.”
“You were more entertaining” He answers with a half shrug. He tries the cellar door again but of course it's locked, he huffs moving to sit next to me.
I lean my head on his shoulder. He speaks softly now so as not to disturb my throbbing head, “Where do you think this important tree would be?” He was referring to the tree we would have to destroy in order to kill the scarecrow, and it was a good question. “Hm” I hum, “It would be the oldest tree here, probably the most protected. Maybe the first immigrants brought it over here, so it’s wherever they would plant it. I would say in the middle.” He nods and I swear I could hear the gears in his head turning.
The cellar doors open again, Stacy coming into view “It’s time.” I want to ask why they didn't just take us the first time they opened the doors but I guess waiting to die a little later was better than sooner. I remove my head from Dean's shoulder, do we fight? It would be 4 against 2 except I wasn't completely okay. But we could fight, right? I mean we always make it out, we always wind up fine.
Harley and the Sheriff come down the stairs, the Sheriff watches me carefully as he lifts Dean forcefully up. Harley doesn't show any remorse as he grips my forearm tightly, lifting me to my feet before grabbing my other arm roughly holding them behind my back. I struggle against him attempting to step hard on his foot as he forces me up the stairs behind Dean.
Real fear twirled itself around me, were we not going to fight?
They drag us forward deeper into the orchard, I dig my heels into the dirt trying to slow it down as much as I can. I’m scared. I don't want to die. I don't want to be sacrificed to some god. Please. Please. My headache needs to go away, let me use my powers without pain. I struggle against him more, trying to let my magic seep into anything around me but immediately my headache worsens by ten folds. I grunt in frustration, trying to shake the older man off further but he only tightens his grip. I hope bruises won't come from it, not that it would matter if I died today. I close my eyes tightly, digging my heels in further, please. Please. Anything, please.
Harley pushes me forward effortlessly. I don't want to die. Please. Please.
The ground begins to rumble, shaking violently. Apples tumble from the trees hitting the ground with a bunch of thumps. My heart beats wildly in my chest as if it's trying to jump out and run away. His grip loosens on me as he freezes in place, “It's angry at us!” Stacy yells covering her head. I wiggle out of Harleys hold, taking a couple steps away as my legs wobble like the ground. A familiar click locks into place, I come face to face with a gun, “It’s not causing this. It's her” the Sheriff accuses.
“Dont touch her” Dean yells, struggling against Scotty's hold. The Sheriff must have passed him on to hold me at gunpoint for the second time today. “I'm not doing anything” I spit, the shaking ground growing more intense.
“Your eyes are glowing again” he states. “What are you talking about?” I nearly yell, I think I would know if I was using my own abilities. Plus I've never done anything like this before so how would I be able to do so now?
Before I can react he has my hair wrapped in his fist, pulling my head back forcefully a hiss of pain escaping my lips. It felt like it was going to rip itself right from the roots. “Dont you fucking hurt her!” Dean roars. The ground seems to become more violent, the large trees themselves shaking where they stood while everyone nearly stumbles over. He pulls my hair hard, my neck snapping back as he moves his shiny gun in front of me, showing me its side.
My only slightly blurred reflection stares back at me. My cheekbone had a dark bruise painted there and my eyes were–
My irises were purple. No. It doesn't make sense, I wasn't controlling this. I wasn't making it happen, I've never done this before. The Sheriff pushes me forward letting go of my hair at the last minute, I fall to my knees only a foot away from him. The barrel of the gun is pressed into the back of my skull, “Make it stop or I'll make you stop” he threatens. I can hear Dean struggle against Scotty again, and in the corner of my eyes I see him finally pull away before turning around and punching the man right in the face. Scotty doubles over, but before Dean could do any more damage to anyone else Harvey grabs him.
“You can't kill her, we have to leave them both for it” Stacy argues. The ground seems to roar, the earth shaking so siverley I nearly fall to my hands. “I would stop if I could!” I admit, “I don't kno–” I cut myself off, a sudden deep memory making its way to the surface of my brain. A memory of a deceased corn field, a disaster I caused.
“Make it stop!” the sheriff spits. “I told you I don't know h–” Suddenly the gun is raised up and before I could do anything to stop it, the gun hits the side of my skull. My head feels like it explodes as I hit the ground, my eyes struggle to stay open. The last thing I see before it all goes dark again is Dean trying to lunge forward and the ground halting in its shaking.
My eyes flutter open, my horrible headache accompanied with an even worse head-ache. Both in my head and outside. At this point my brain should be a scrambled mess.
My wrists were zip tied to a thinner part of the tree trunk my back rested on. It was just beginning to be dark out. I move my gaze from above me to across me, Dean sitting against a different tree in the same position I was in. His eyes widen and he attempts to move closer before grunting in frustration at the restrictions of his wrists, “You're awake. Are you okay?” He licks his lips, “I swear to fuckin’ god I’ll kill ‘em.”
I don't say anything, my head is too heavy. He's staring at me with wide eyes, fear clear in his irises. “‘You okay?” he asks again. I nod, my head hurts and I’m confused and upset, but I’m alive so I’m okay. He shakes his head, “No.” I look at him confused, I don't understand. He continues to shake his head, wetting his lips again, “Say it. I need to hear you say it,” he sounded breathless, “I need to hear you say you're okay.”
“Im okay” I say weakly. He sighs, relief clear in the way his shoulders drop. But I had a feeling he knew I wasn't being totally truthful.
He swallows roughly, “Can you see the scarecrow?” Despite my heavy head I look in each direction for the thing, until I can slightly see the post. “Dean” I start and I can hear my own voice wobble with fear, “It's not there.” He fights against his restraints, and I would join him in that effort if my head hasn't already given up on me. “I hope their apple pie is frickin’ worth it” he grumbles.
A shadow catches just behind Dean, I squint hoping I'm just seeing things from potential brain damage then the actual scarecrow. “Dean, I think it's behind you.” Forget everything I said and thought, I begin fighting against my own restraints, the zip ties digging into my wrists harshly. “Dean?” a familiar voice called out.
Sam’s tall figure comes into view as he rounds the tree Dean is tied to. Dean twists his neck oddly to see his brother, “Oh!” he sighs in relief, “Oh, I take everything back I said. I'm so happy to see you. Come on.” Sam takes that as his chance to assess his brother's binding before pulling out his pocket knife, “‘You okay, Y/N?” he asks as he works on sawing the bindings. “Dandy” I respond, truly done with this all.
“How’d you get here?” Dean asks his brother.
“I, uh–I stole a car.”
Dean laughs at that, “That's my boy!” His bindings finally break with a snap. Sam doesn't wait for his brother to get up as he walks the short distance to me, beginning to remove my own restraints. His eyes gaze down at me every now and then, most likely assessing the damage.
Deans at my side a breath later, squatting down to be at my level. He brings his hand carefully to my face, gently moving a piece of my hair behind my ear. Something feels dried and stiff there and I wonder if it's blood from being hit or just dirt. I tilt and roll my head away from him, the pain overwhelming even with the delicate touch.
My restraints snap above me, bits of the plastic tangling itself into my hair. My wrists are raw and red, just one more thing to add to the list. I place my hands on the cold dirt, trying to pick myself up but my ears begin to ring and my vision spins. I sit back down again, huffing. Strong arms grab my arm and waist all but lifting me off the ground and onto my feet, “‘You got eyes on the scarecrow?” Dean asks, looking at his brother who shakes his head. “Alright, I can carry you, the clearing isn’t far off” Dean says looking down at me.
“That's ridiculous,” I shake my head, “I’ll slow you down. I’ll just push through, and we don't have time to argue this.” He grumbles, he doesn't like the idea. But again we don't know where the scarecrow is and we can't waste time bickering over stupid logistics.
I immediately regret not taking the offer. My brain feels like it's jumping around in my skull and swishing side to side as if on a boat. I feel like the orchard is spinning around me, tumbling over itself like one of those tunnels in a fun house.
“Alright, now, this sacred tree you’re talking about–” Sam pants lightly as we run, Dean having filled him in on the information we gathered. “It's the source of its power” I finish, my voice feeling far away even in my own ears. “So let’s find it and burn it.” Sam annonces.
“Nah, in the morning.” Dean counters, “Let’s just shag ass before Leather face catches up.”
We come to a skidding stop, just at a clearing of trees the four jerks from before as well as a couple others stand guard. Sam nudged us in a different direction just to be met with a wall of people, we were surrounded. “Did the whole fricking town come to watch us die?!” I exclaim, “Just let us leave!” I was so tired of this, I just want to go to a motel or something and shower off today's fears before falling into a deep sleep. “It’ll be over quickly” Harley says, and if it was meant to be comforting it was not working. “It's for the greater go–” suddenly a sickle is pushed through his stomach. His mouth opens in shock, blood dripping down the sides. Screams come from all around us, and I hardly know if I was screaming too.
He’s raised off the ground before the sickle is quickly pulled out. Stacy still stands there screaming, watching her dying husband on the floor. But soon her screams are cut off too, the sickle going through her throat. Her eyes are wide, her mouth hanging open too as blood not only spurts out of her neck but spills down like a waterfall onto her shirt. The air fills quickly with all the blood's metallic scent. The scarecrow does not retract its weapon, keeping the curved blade in her neck as it grabs onto Harley's collar dragging them both behind it.
Shock had frozen us in place, but apparently not the townspeople. “Come on let’s go,” Dean insists, leading us away.
Morning came by far too slowly but at least we passed the time by using the stolen car to drive back to the college to get the Impala before returning to the orchard. It all went by so weirdly, I knew I was moving but it felt like I never left that road outside the expanse of apple trees. I hardly remember the drive there or the drive back, everything still spun and the ringing only got louder. I think I might have lost my mind.
We stand in front of the sacred tree though I don't remember how we found it. The tree had Vince’s tattoo printed onto it, that was a tell tale sign it was the right one. Sam pours gasoline all over it, Dean picks up a long branch lighting it on fire before throwing it onto the tree. “‘Think the towns ‘gonna be okay?” Sam asks as the flaming tree roars with the crackling flames. “Don’t know” Dean shrugs, but I think the answer was apparent to all of us.
“And the rest of the townspeople, they’ll just get away with it?” Sam adds.
“Well, what’ll happen to the town will have to be punishment enough.” Dean answers.
We walk back to the car leaving the burning tree behind us, though I hope it won’t spread and cause a whole forest fire, “So, can I drop you off somewhere?” Dean asks.
“No, I think you’re stuck with me.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“I didn’t. I still wanna find Dad. And you’re still a pain in the ass.” Sam explains, “But, Jess and Mom—they’re both gone. Dad is God knows where. You, me, Y/N. We’re all that’s left. So, if we’re gonna see this through, we’re gonna do it together.”
I give Sam's arm a little squeeze, it was a really sweet speech.
“Hold me, Sam. That was beautiful.” Dean smiles, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder who hits it away. They fall into a fit of laughter, “You should be kissing my ass, you were dead meat, dude.” Sam says between laughs.
“Yeah, right. I had a plan, I’d have gotten us out.” Dean scuffs.
“Right.”
#supernatural#fanfiction#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#sam winchester#john winchester#slow burn#witch reader#witchcraft#dean winchester x witch reader#dean winchester x f!reader#the hunter and the witch#the hunter and the witch update#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x female reader#angst#arguing
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idk what to ask for but Steve in the car smut?
so anyway roadhead
Car Madness - s.h.
ǁ summary: Two horny young adults and the last 2 hours of a long roadtrip. What's a girl to do?
ǁ tags: smut, oral (m receiving) with swallowing, roadhead is dangerous y'all don't do as i do, do as i say. no pronouns, no y/n, afab!reader, nickname for you is baby.
ǁ word count: 2k
It’s been 11 hours so far in the car and there are 2 more hours to go.
You and Steve had switched off shifts of driving – him taking the majority just because he felt more comfortable that way – but it still was a long fucking day in the car. Passenger seat naps were attempted by you and Steve, and he had even attempted a laying-down-in-the-backseat nap, but actual shut eye had ended up few and far between. The road from Hawkins to New York had been full of almost nothing to look at and it got to the point where even the mixtapes you prepared for the trip weren’t enough to keep the boredom at bay.
Now, sun long past down as Steve speeds down the sparsely lit asphalt of Interstate 76, you’re both half stir-crazy and half asleep. It had been foolish pride that insisted you both could make the 13 hour drive in one day without stopping – and now it was too late to back out. So foolish pride continued as you tried to think of things to talk about to keep Steve and yourself awake.
Half sideways in your seat, the sight of your boyfriend and the warmth radiating off him was a maddening mix of soothing you closer to sleep and getting you into some kind of sleepy-horny state that was making the skin on the back of your neck crawl. He was just in a loose t-shirt and jeans – why did he look so fucking hot? Sunglasses abandoned in the middle console, left hand firmly on the lower edge of the steering wheel, right hand clenching and unclenching his grip on the gear shift just to move a little. The movement made the muscles in his forearm flex in a way that made his veins more visible.
Why are veins attractive? What if women being attracted to how veins look on men was what created the very first vampire myth?
“Baby?” The warm, heavy rasp of his voice pulls you out of your lustful daze, glancing over at you with a smug smile. “I think you’re drooling a little.”
While you’re tempted to retort something to try to bring his cockiness down a peg, because he’s a sexy and charismatic bastard, you offer a syrupy sweet smile instead. “And what if I am? Can you really blame me?”
His eyebrows shoot up, sparing another surprised but pleased glance in your direction before focusing on the road. With a teasing lit to his tired voice, he politely informs you, “I think you’ve succumbed to car madness, my love.”
My love. It’s almost like he wants you to crawl across the center console and eat him alive.
“Mmmm,” you hum, intentionally high pitched like a moan and rejoicing him when clenches his strong hand around the gear shift again, along with a muscle rolling in his tightened jaw. “Car madness is giving me a lot of ideas, it seems.”
“Oh yeah?” He asks, the word slightly choked off at the end. “Like what?”
By way of answering, you shift closer to lean on the center console, chest brushing his elbow as the warmth of his skin bleeds through your comfy hoodie. “How hard would it be for you to wiggle those jeans down around your thighs, handsome?”
He says your name in a stern rumble, a warning and an encouragement. “I’m not sure if that’s a very good idea.”
“Come on, Steve-o,” you use the hand not holding up your chin to run feather light fingertips down his arm, smile growing when he shivers slightly. “I’ll be real gentle – and if you feel like it’s too unsafe after I start, you can tell me to stop. But I really, really want your cock in my mouth.”
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters to himself, pulling his arm away from your trailing touches to run a hand through his messy hair. “Fuck… Okay, fu– Jesus, grab the wheel for a sec, will you?”
Stomach twisting in excitement and anticipation, you settle yourself in your chair and grab a hold of the wheel, keeping your eyes out the windshield to keep within the lines as a lot of shuffling goes on beside you. While you want nothing more than to watch him shimmy his jeans down over his thick ass and thighs, you know he’s already a little nervous about the idea and don’t want to let your horny monkey brain take over too much.
When his hand brushes against yours to take the wheel again a few moments later, you waste absolutely no time in feasting your eyes on the new picture beside you.
Shirt slightly hiked up to show off his belly button and the trail of hair that leads down from it, you lick your lips when you follow the line to his half hard erection. Thick as ever, getting longer by the second, and just starting to blush the same pink that’s spreading across his cheeks. With his hair mussed, his hands in white knuckle grips in their places, his clothes disheveled just far enough to free his cock and balls…
“I think it’s safe to say I’m definitely drooling now.”
And his dick twitches in his lap at the same time a breathy chuckle puffs out of his parted lips. Another smug smile in place, and he momentarily tilts his head toward you to say, “That should help, huh? Why don’t you put it to use, baby?”
A firm grip around the base of him is enough to wipe the smile off his face, abs flexing as he lets out a shaky sigh. “Y’know what? I think it will help plenty.”
It’s a bit of an awkward adjustment, but without too much discomfort you manage to drape yourself across the console, right elbow resting between his thighs as you use that hand to pump the velvet skin a few times, harden him the rest of the way before you tilt down and tongue into the slit at the top of the head.
“Oh, shit,” he groans, the hand from the gearshift draping across your back while he heaves a breath in and out. Not hearing a complaint yet, you keep your hand in a firm grip around the base as you take the tip into your mouth and suck. His dick twitches in your hand and mouth right when you circle your tongue around the head before releasing him.
Lips brushing the skin on the side of his shaft, you murmur, “Still awake up there, handsome?”
“Definitely,” he confirms with another breathless laugh, warm palm dragging up your spine and resting on the nape of your neck. “So fucking awake. Please keep going.”
“Well, since you said please.” You momentarily release your grip to lick him from base to tip before taking him back into your mouth, settling down about halfway before suckling again.
“Jesus,” he repeats, fingers flexing on your scalp but still not making any move to grab your hair or push you down. It seems he is taking your promise of ‘gentle’ to heart – allowing you to control the bob of your head as you take more and more of him into your mouth.
A little rivulet of spit runs across your fingers and down to his balls, another shaky groan pouring from his throat at the feeling. With the signal, you pull off again, using your hands to spread the collected saliva down the entirety of his shaft and to a soft roll of his balls in your palm. He jumps at the sudden attention to the sensitive area, yelping a quick, “Not there!”
You completely pull away, concern creasing your forehead as he basically pants into the now heated air between you. “Sorry just…” He flashes you a sheepish smile. “Too sensitive for the car, baby. Gonna make me drive us off the road.”
“Okay, that’s fine.” You reassure at the same time his fingers, still woven into the hair at the nape of your neck, do a gentle scratch at your scalp. “But I can keep going?”
“Yeah, ‘course.”
Steve laughs again at how quickly you’re ducking back down to get your mouth around him. In your haste, you press further than you’re ready and activate your gag reflex, throat squeezing the head of his cock as he lets out a surprised moan, grip on your head tightening. “Fuck, that feels so good.”
Entirely too encouraged by his praise and sounds, you press down to lightly gag around him to a very similar reaction. Your own spit starts to hit your fingers again, and the twist up motion you do to meet your lips makes his hips flex up, pressing further into your mouth. A small whimper leaves his parted lips, making the steadily increasing throb between your legs near unbearable. Shifting your foot beneath you, you swallow any of your shame and roll your hips down to rub your clit against the heel of your foot.
“Are you…?” His grip in your hair tightens into a near fist, another moan leaving him as his hips flex again. “Christ, baby, you’ve got me so close already.”
You take as much down your throat as you can and let out a hum of approval, delighting in the way his thighs tense up around your forearm. Determined to push him over the edge as quickly as you can, your traitorous fingers release the base to brush against his balls again.
His answering moan is loud but the grip on your hair yanks you up just high enough that your lips barely brush the tip of him. “Come on baby, be good, or I won’t let you have my cum.”
The threat has you whimpering, eyebrows tipping up as you press featherlight kisses to the head of his cock and whisper, “I’m sorry, so sorry, I’ll be good, just wanna make you feel good, wanna make you cum.”
“Fuck me– You’re so good baby, so sweet for me.” He loosens his fist in your hair and gently scratches your scalp again. “Go on then, make me cum.”
You waste no time in taking him as far as you physically can, throat muscles seizing around the head as he moans again. You move to pull back but his hand keeps your head in place, his hips moving into a gentle rock of barely a few millimeters in and out of your mouth. Closing your eyes, focusing on breathing through your nose and relaxing your throat, you allow him to gently fuck your mouth until he uses your hair to pull you halfway off again.
“I’m so close, baby, please– Feels so fucking good,” he starts to babble as you return your hand to the base of his cock and go back to the upward twisting motion to meet your lips that remain suctioned tight around the top half of his cock. The additional stimulation has him moaning high, hand once again fisting in your hair as he gently thrusts up into the feeling once, twice, and then he’s cumming – abs and thighs seizing and trembling as his cock twitches in your mouth, salty cum laying out across your tongue as you continue to suck him down with a backing track of his breathless moans.
Though your hand stops, you don’t stop sucking and licking at his softening cock until you’re sure you’re cleaned off each drop of his cum, and even then he has to use his grip to pull you off so you stop overstimulating him.
Now getting a full view again, you feel nothing but pride at the heave of his flushed chest, the pants leaving his swollen, bitten lips, the muscles in his abdomen still recovering as his heavy cock falls off toward his hip as it softens. “You were right, all the drool really came in handy.”
His hand releases your hair to grip on his own, another breathless chuckle leaving him as he shakes his head. “You’re gonna fucking kill me one day and I’m gonna love every second of it.”
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thanks for reading! please reblog and leave a reaction if you liked it, they make my day <3
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington smut#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington blurbs#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#myos ideas#myo4harrington
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okay so I thought of this after seeing the rory Halloween photos but maybe you can write a story (preferably with Jack Thurlow) where they go to a Halloween party that he doesn’t really want to attend but he ends up having fun and it could be a bit of fluff + smut? thank you 🫶🫶
"a little party never hurt no one." | jack thurlow
art deco. - lana del rey
✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @angelsanarchy @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @si1nful-symph0ny @livingdead-materialgirl@romanroyapoligist @oliviah-25@si1nful-symph0ny @auggiethecreator @vanlisbon @livingdead-reilly
female!reader x jack
word count: 864
contents: slight fluff, jack being a little perverted
“oh c’mon jack, you know this is my favourite time of year.” you whine as you follow him up the stairs, his footsteps making the creaky floorboards groan. he rolls his eyes once he reaches the top. “and what do you want me to do about that, huh?” he placed his hands on his hips, his gaze turning into a slight glare.
you returned his glare, causing his own to soften a little. “i want you to come to the party with me. that’s all i ask.” you held your hands behind your back, fidgeting with your fingers as you watched the vein on his forehead disappear. he sighs deeply, rubbing his temples as he thought about your request.
he met your stare once more, this time your eyes filled with more desperation than anything. with one last huff, he finally gave you the response that you’d been hoping for. “don’t expect to wear a costume or anything, alright? and if there isn’t good booze then i’m leaving.” it was the bare minimum, but you squealed, rushing up to him and wrapping your arms around his defined torso in a tight embrace.
he gently peeled you off of him, giving you a gentle pat on the cheek with his calloused hand before locking himself in the solace of his room. you glanced at the time. 7:42pm, meaning that you had just over an hour to get ready and there was still so much you had to do. you rushed to the bathroom, starting to work on your hair, makeup, and finding a costume that would make jack lose his mind.
you finished off in the bathroom, coming out looking the opposite of how you went in. you strolled over to your room, making your way to the mass of clothes in your closet. you wanted something that was simple but not forgettable. something that would turn all heads in your direction without making you seem like an attention seeker.
just as the clock struck 9, you heard his heavy footsteps echoing through the eerie halls, coming in your direction. he landed a few knocks on the door, his tone revealing his irritation. “are you goin’ to this thing or not?!” there was no response, allowing his voice to bounce off the walls. he banged on the door a few more times before you flung the door open.
“s-sorry, im here. let’s go.” you walked past him, but his jaw was on the floor. he was frozen in place, reeling over the sight he saw for only a fraction of a second. you were halfway down the hall, but he just continued to stare at what you were wearing.
you had on a short, tight black leather skirt with torn tights underneath, something you knew always made him weak in the knees. but your shirt is what surprised him the most. it was his well-known ultraviolence t-shirt, but you had tailored it into a skintight lacy bra that could barely hold itself together on your body.
you put on your shoes, feeling as he gawked at you. you looked in his direction, a pink flush covering his pale cheeks. “you coming?” you smiled at his teasingly as he blinked himself back to reality. he rubbed his eyes, muttering quietly under his breath. “y-yeah, just a sec…
he seemed to be in a daze the whole journey to the party. your hands were locked the entire time, but you felt him stealing occasional glances at you, his hands getting sweaty and his body trembling slightly. and best of all, it seemed like he was actually looking forward to the party, but you couldn’t be too sure.
you and him quietly stepped into the host’s house, instantly being welcomed by the strong smell of beer. you lead jack inside, making him look like a lost puppy that was clinging onto you. you brought him to the kitchen, pouring some beer into a plastic red cup and handing it to him with a warm smile.
“thanks for coming out with me tonight. i hope this isn’t too much for you.” he shakily took a sip from the cup, his eyes travelling down your cleavage. “no problem…” you picked up on the slight uncertainty in his voice, feeling the need to lighten the mood. “so you really didn’t dress up? you’re no fun.” you gave him a playful punch on the shoulder, making his body jerk.
you noticed his silence, starting to feel a twinge of remorse. you spoke again, but this time your voice was regretful. “y’know what? how about we just call it a night. this party wasn’t as good as i thou-” your speech was cut off when he grabbed your neck and pulled you into a hungry, desperate kiss.
his mouth stayed on your for the longest second of your life before he pulled away,, leaving your expression contorted from shock. he smiled sheepishly at you. “you know i’ve been looking for this shirt…” a dumb little smile crept onto your face as he snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you close. “yeah… i know.”
author's note: im so sorry for unannounced inactivity :(( this week was rlly hectic but im free all weekend so stay ready!!
#rory culkin#rory culkin smut#jack thurlow smut#jack thurlow x reader#jack thurlow#jack goes home#smut#culkin cult#lana del ray#lana del ray aesthetic#lana del rey#art deco#honeymoon#444rockstargf
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T_T
This is so touching!
I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this. But then I was like, I've already made them wait long enough, and what's the harm of posting two things in one day?
Felt it'd be nice to have Part 6 be a little less plot-driven. You'll see what I mean
-------
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
QPR, Part 6
“[Hero], come on!” the villain called, from where they laid sprawled on the couch. “You said it wouldn’t take that long!”
“Hold on just a sec.” The hero’s voice floated from the kitchen. “They’ll be done soon.”
The villain scowled and flopped back on the pillows. “You never see Do-yun making Ha-rin wait around forever.”
“That’s because tv shows have this magical trick called the jump cut.” There was the sound of an oven door closing. “We'll just let them bake, and then they’ll be so good you won’t even remember the wait.”
The villain groaned.
Then they heard the sound of running water, and burst up, rushing into the kitchen. “Are you doing my dishes?!”
The hero jerked their head up like they’d been caught vandalizing. “I was just going to do a few while we waited.”
“Okay, one, you do not need to do my chores on k-drama night. And two, how long is the baking going to take?!”
The hero glanced to their phone on the counter. “’Bout fifty more minutes.”
The villain gaped. “That’s most of an episode!”
“Well I didn’t want us to have to pause the show during a big scene. This way we can – Jesus your hands are freezing!”
The villain had come up behind the hero to hug them, pressing their hands on the hero’s stomach.
“Come watch tv dear,” they said into the hero’s shoulder. “I’m cold without you.”
The hero shook their head, but also cracked a small grin. “You’re evil.”
The villain matched their expression and pressed their hands more. “Of course I am. It’s the only way I can get you to cuddle me.”
In the end, the brownies were, in fact, good enough to make the villain forget why they were annoyed in the first place.
---
“Oh my god,” the hero said.
The villain fidgeted. “Do you like it?”
“Like it?” The hero looked up. “[Villain], it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
The hero was holding a small fluffy teddy bear, its fur the black, grey, white, and purple of the asexual flag.
The villain beamed. “Really?”
The hero nodded gleefully. “He needs a name.”
“I think the tag says its name is ‘Fuzzy’ or something. You could – ”
“Ferdinand,” the hero decided, assessing the stuffed animal. “Ferdinand Bearnsby. The next Prince of Denmark.”
The villain wrapped the hero in a hug. “I’m so glad you like it.”
---
“So is [Villain], like, a law-abiding citizen now?” the hero’s friend asked.
“Uh, sort of?” The hero gazed around at the restaurant’s outdoor seating area. “They still break minor laws, but I think they’ve really toned it down to stress me out less.”
“Hey, that’s great.”
The hero swirled their iced tea with their straw. “Yeah, I guess.”
The friend quirked an eyebrow. “You don’t agree?”
The hero sighed. “Okay, so don’t ever tell [Villain] this, but I think their ‘devil may care’ attitude is maybe, kinda . . . a little bit cool?”
The friend grinned. “Oh really?”
In return, the hero’s smile was sheepish. “It’s a little embarrassing to admit, but I secretly wish that they’d behave more like their old villainous self sometimes.”
“Hm, well I suppose that – ”
Something enormous crashed into the street, making all the dishes clatter. The hero and their friend both whipped their heads around to see the cause of the noise.
“[Villain]!”
“Oh hi [Hero]!” The fifty-foot tall mech waved at the two of them. “Fancy meeting you here. How did you know it was me?”
“[Villain], why are you in a giant robot?!”
“Isn’t it cool?” The villain spun around, their heavy feet cracking the pavement and the machine's hinges screeching with every movement. “I finally figured out how to get the power system working.”
“This is illegal.”
The villain laughed. “Ah okay, I see the issue. But, fear not my darling, for I have” – they pulled out a sheet of paper that looked miniscule in their enormous metal hands – “a permit!”
Soon after, the mech continued walking down the street, while the hero followed them, shouting at the top of their lungs.
The friend watched them go, and then chuckled. Those two maniacs were perfect for each other.
---
A-spec stories taglist:
@feline17ff , @piept , @doublericenobeans , @vioqueenofmushrooms , @pigeonwhumps , @thelazywitchphotographer , @taramacgay
#asexual#aromantic#qpr#hero x villain#villain x hero#aroace#ace#aro#qpr pride#qpr concepts#heroes and villains#villains and heroes#villain#writing snippet#writeblr#aspec#aromantic spectrum#asexual spectrum#wholesome#fluff#Hero - 'they'll be done soon'#Also Hero - 'just fifty more minutes'#not a prompt
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I gave you Danny last week, and continuing my cruel streak of not giving you the Bruce-And-Constantine that makes up most of the meat of this chapter… 😈 have some Jason!
We’re close to the end my dears so with any luck this is the last WIP Wednesday we’ll spend on chapter 11, and get that posted soon! I’m just slowing down a little, because Jason’s… well, he’s a little heavy in this one
Needs some cheering up. As always, the rest of the fic is in the tag and on AO3 under Danny Fenton: Dead and Loving It
——————
Fuck the no killing rule, Jason was gonna murder Harley Quinn. And by that, yeah, he probably actually meant “seek vengeance in some small but annoying way”, but still.
He didn’t actually have a crush on Danny. It was a bit they were putting on to fuck with his nosey brothers, and it was probably a good sign that they’d apparently fooled Harley too.
But Harley was a hopeless romantic and prone to see romance where none existed, so maybe it wasn’t that good.
More importantly, Danny didn’t fucking know he was Red Hood yet. He’d have to text Harley tonight and drill that in, since she’d definitely picked up that Danny was in on the secret.
And since apparently they were all gonna be hanging out tomorrow.
He kinda wished he hadn’t brought it up. That Harley hadn’t asked.
He’d monopolised so much of Danny’s time already over the break, three full days and they still had to make that run back to Frostbite.
Danny must have had some other plans. Something he actually wanted to do with his time instead of just following Jason around.
The gala had been fun though. And so had today, it just… Jason couldn’t help feeling he was being too needy. Too clingy, with a guy he’d known for all of a week if you were generous.
Being around Danny made him feel like himself for the first time in fucking years, and he knew what he’d have given up for that.
He didn’t want to be too much. Too pushy. Didn’t want Danny to get sick of hanging out with him so soon, and leave him right back where he’d been; bitter, angry, and alone.
At least Danny didn’t seem to be thinking too much about Harley’s parting shot. There was definitely something on his mind, but they hadn’t actually unlinked arms.
Jason could feel his aura.
Concern-worry-worry.
Shit, they hadn’t fucking unlinked arms. Should they? Should Jason have? For fucks sake he was literally clinging to the guy, this was fucking ridiculous, he should just.
But Danny hadn’t pulled away.
It’d be weird to pull away now.
Jason managed to keep himself distracted in that little spiral all the way to the garage he’d parked his bike in. Danny waited until they left the manor’s grounds to speak again though, arms tightening around Jason’s chest.
“Pull over a sec?” He called above the wind, and Jason very firmly did not let that pitch him further. He pulled over, still firmly in the heights and far from any living souls.
Unless theirs counted. Probably not.
He dropped the kickstand and pulled off his helmet, hoping Danny just wanted to talk. Maybe ask him to make his excuses to Harley.
Ask Jason to drop him at the university and not follow him home. That’d make sense. He didn’t need a wayward puppy.
He didn’t actually get off the bike. Didn’t want to give up Danny’s arms wrapped around him, even if it was just for expedience.
And maybe realised that wasn’t a great idea when Danny rested his cheek on Jason’s back and a warm wave of relax-safe-reassurance threatened to swallow him.
“I know what you’re thinking about,” Danny admitted softly, and Jason damn near bolted. Barely heard the next words, which…
Well.
He knew Danny tended to overlook things. But it turned out he could be pretty damn perceptive too.
“She’s gonna be okay, you know. Cass. I can feel her anywhere in the city if I try, and I’ll know if something happens to her.”
And just like that, the bottom dropped out of Jason’s stomach.
He’d been trying not to think about it. Pretended he didn’t know what she’d be doing when she left, out in the city, one fucking accident from being like him.
Even worrying about Danny getting sick of him was better than that.
She might not even need the pit to bring her back this time. Gotham had a fuck ton of native ectoplasm even for a city; it couldn’t not.
Ectoplasm was made of and attracted to raw emotional energy. For all that people died every day in the city, more were born or moved in to join their ranks.
Gotham would be a metaphorical ghost town if they hadn’t, instead of the literal version slowly creeping across the city’s vigilantes.
From the rogues’ overdramatic schemes to the peoples’ undercurrent of rage and defiant joy, Gotham seethed with emotion. Most of the dead didn’t stay to use the ecto up, and every rogue attack brought a fresh wave.
Not clean ectoplasm like the realms, but tainted with their individual torments, the fierce glee, the desire to burn, it all churned into an ambient ectoplasm Danny swore he’d never seen in another city.
And that defiant spirit, the Gotham je ne sais quoi that made people put up with all the rogue attacks and dangers, was powerful too. Jason had known that even as a kid.
Now, it was literally the reason he was alive.
He might have a second core filling his system with pit water, but they’d both have dried up without the boundless “fuck off” energy Gotham was built on.
He’d felt it since the second he returned. He was alive in Gotham in a way he hadn’t been in Nanda Parbat, anywhere but the fucking pit. It let him think clearly.
Well.
Apparently Danny let him think clearly. That thought still stung. But it shouldn’t have surprised him.
He’d never been much of anything that other people didn’t make him.
It was why he didn’t really mind Clockwork trying to make him Danny’s knight within a couple hours of learning he was half dead. It was kinda what he did.
People had been using him as a weapon since he swung a tire iron at Batman himself. Protecting the guy who gave him his fucking soul back?
He’d have done that anyway, for free. And he got a kickass gun and a supernatural sense of when said asshole needed him. Honestly, easiest job of his life.
The catch would come eventually, but this whole “feeling the intent of people you talk to” thing left him way less suspicious than he still kinda felt he should be.
He’d rather that than be left nebulously owing his whole self to Danny with no way to repay him and no idea where the catch would come from.
It had just… never occurred to him that the same way Danny could reach out and find Vlad, he’d be able to find Cass. Or Jason himself, probably.
Jason hadn’t realised how tightly he’d wound himself until the pressure eased.
He sucked in a breath that seemed to fill his chest for the first time in hours, folded his arms forward onto the handlebars, and let his head rest against them.
Danny followed him down, never losing contact but his face slipping lower and lower down Jason’s back. It almost made him chuckle, imagining how they must have looked.
Actually, he did. Just a moment, a soft and almost giddy sound that he choked back immediately. He sounded… well. Not like himself.
He’d been itching since the girls left to patrol, wishing he could join them. Be Cass’s backup in the field and be sure she wasn’t going in on anything big alone.
Cass was a step beyond competent, she was exceptional and she’d been doing this for years without a shadow. On a regular day, she wouldn’t need help.
But hearing how close she was to losing her humanity and not coming back right no matter what had him on edge. He wanted to shield her, protect her from what he’d gone through.
It wasn’t that he wanted her out of the fight. The idea of asking her not to go out hadn’t even occurred to him. She could make her own choices and he’d back her with all he had.
He just absolutely fucking hated the idea that she was out there alone, while he had fucking nothing on him that’d let him go after her if she did need backup.
If she needed help, he’d have to waste time gearing up before he could go out after her. The other bats would have her back, they all would, so long as they weren’t busy too.
It wasn’t like he was anyone’s first choice for backup even now, he just.
Yeah. He might kinda get what Danny meant about his Obsession being protection. Protecting the bats was a recent addition, but Jason had burned himself out on enough missing kids since he got back to suspect.
He’d have to ask what an actual capital-letter Obsession felt like, but that would wait for another time.
Just knowing that Cass would be safe, had another pair of eyes and more powers than a Kryptonian watching her back made him feel like he could breathe again.
Even knowing that though, he was glad to have left the manor. He could take Danny home, suit up, and… wait.
Danny had no choice but to move back as he straightened, half moving to frown down at the smaller man.
“Is that why you wanted to leave?” He asked quietly, gauging Danny’s face.
Had Danny worked it out on his own? Felt him stressing out about his baby sister back in the field?
Did Danny know that Jason wanted to join her, if not necessarily which costume he wore, and cut his night short?
Would Danny do that for him?
The answer was obvious in the other man’s face as Danny shrugged, even before he spoke.
“I didn’t wanna put you on the spot, and I figured you’d rather get out of there,” he explained casually, leaning just a little into Jason. Enough to feel what warmth Danny had.
Jason hesitated for a long moment, not sure what to say. If he should thank Danny. If Danny would ask, and if Jason should tell him he was the Red Hood now.
It’d be weirder the longer he didn’t mention it. Like he was keeping a secret.
The same secret Danny had kept as a teenager, so at least he’d probably understand, but Jason didn’t like how it felt. He wasn’t fucking ashamed of being the Red Hood.
He’d done shit no one else ever could have, and every inch of his territory was safer than it had ever been without him. He was proud of what he’d done, even if he wouldn’t brag about his methods.
It worked. It got him where he was today, where he didn’t need to kill anymore because people turned tail at the hint of his damn name.
He still didn’t know how Danny felt about killing. It wasn’t something that came up in conversation much. Maybe he’d find a way to ask first.
Tonight, he managed a stiff nod and leaned a little of his own weight back into Danny. Even if the guy thought he was just gonna go home and mope there instead, it was a win.
“Thanks,” he said softly, half wishing for his helmet’s voice modulator. He didn’t like hearing his own voice sound so… vulnerable.
Danny, fucking angel of mercy that he was, chuckled softly and gave him a gentle tap upside the head.
“Yeah, well. Also wasn’t sure how the others would react to “99% of you are permanently on my radar” anyway, and I wanted to make sure you knew for Cass,” he explained cheerfully.
And yeah, Jason still hadn’t really processed that yet, and wasn’t even sure how he’d react. Smart fucking call on Danny’s part.
Chuckling under his breath, Jason shook his head and flipped the kickstand back up.
“Anything else before I take you to bed?” He asked, half teasing Danny’s own unfortunate choice of words earlier.
They were absolutely still fucking with his family to think this was some kind of romantic relationship. Maybe a bit to punish Bruce, who clearly couldn’t handle the idea of Jason happy.
Danny laughed, a hint of something Jason almost identified behind it, then settled himself more firmly against Jason’s back, hanging on properly again.
“Not a damn thing. Oh, are you gonna come pick me up tomorrow or do I make my own way to the manor to join you and Harley?” He asked, snugged up tight.
Jason had almost forgotten that was happening. Apparently. And suddenly he was glad for at least the motorcycle helmet as his cheeks flushed pink.
Fuck he’d say he was trailing after Danny like a puppy, except Danny was the one going where Jason needed to be.
Another excuse to get Danny on his bike, arms around him.
Fuck off, Jason Todd Romance Heroine. It was a goddamn jailbreak, if a legal one. Not a fucking meet cute.
“If you actually want to come,” he agreed a little hesitantly, because the voice that insisted he was just a burden and Danny was only humouring him wasn’t all displacement activity after all.
Or pit related, apparently. Delightful.
He coulda tried to pretend it was, but that had been more convincing back when it was always a background grumble of anger, not the little calm pool of happiness now sitting in his gut.
Unforeseen side effect of getting his toxic sludge cleaned up: he was gonna have to own some of his own bullshit now. Work out what was his and what wasn’t.
Danny leaned back a little, grip loosening, and Jason could feel concern like a whisper soft touch.
“Yeah… I would, if you don’t mind? It seems like he’s important to you.”
Jason wasted a moment trying to work out what the hell Danny meant by that.
Did he want to meet Croc cuz he was important to Jason? Or did he think Jason wouldn’t want him to if he was important?
Cuz while yeah, Jason considered Waylon a friend (and thanks, Harley, for the new name crisis, love that. The guy introduced himself as Killer Croc but Jason knew all about controlling a narrative) it wasn’t like he was family. Not like Dick, Cass, or the others.
Except. Roy was family. Long before any of the bats made it back into Jason’s good books, Roy was one of the first people to be happy Jason was alive.
And Waylon had helped Roy get help when Ollie fucking kicked him out.
Waylon had been a restraining hand on Jason’s shoulder too, in the bad old days. Keeping him from pushing too hard, going too big, doing something he really couldn’t come back from.
Family didn’t have to mean annoying texts at four AM. Didn’t have to come around for dinner every Sunday; how often did any of them really see Harley?
Fuck, how often would they have seen each other if Alfred didn’t have them all firmly under his culinary thumb.
Waylon had to count as a reliable old uncle at least.
And that kinda made it a different question. Did Jason want Danny to meet his family?
It had been an easy “yes” with the bats, not least because the nosy bastards would muscle their way in regardless. Croc…
Waylon never judged Jason. From his highest highs to lowest lows, he never looked down on him. Not even when he was telling Jason to stop and think.
It kinda made Jason ache for what his life should have been. His, and Waylon’s if he’d never been called Killer Croc.
And maybe it’d give Jason a read on how Danny would react to the Red Hood thing. Or whether or not Danny already knew.
——————
Ah, the darker sides of this story back again. We’ll get to Waylon himself next chapter (I hope), and in the mean time dear Jason has some baby angst and Bruce will only confuse things further
Tag list: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna
#danny fenton dead and loving it#wip wednesday#dp x dc#dpxdc#danny fenton x jason todd#dead on main ship#chapter 11#never make a promise you can’t keep#lots of angst today#not the deepest but lots for me
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𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒛𝒆
~ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦
Featuring: childe, diluc, kaeya, zhongli
Tags: hurt/comfort, the genshin men are always working (except zhongli), gn!reader, petnames, suggestive if you squint (childe | kaeya), zhongli’s is a bit mean-I wouldn’t say toxic but a bit dismissive
Word count: 2k (about 500 each)
An: this is the first post I’ve made like this, and I might not make them all so long next time (this is also like my first or second time writing some of these characters so pls be nice if they’re a little ooc) lmk if I’ve missed anything in the tags ^^
taglist | masterlist
𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒆
“Childe, come on, you said you wouldn’t do this to me anymore.”
Childe frowns. He doesn’t know what he could have possibly done to elicit such a response in you. he’s been nothing but a perfect gentleman, so why have you been avoiding him? And why are you standing here, having a go at him?
“Can you at least tell me what was more important than me?” You ask. You know the answer already, but you ask the question in the hope that something may have changed. But with Childe, nothing changes. He’s constant, regardless of what’s happening around him.
“Nothing is, you know that.” He chuckles, reaching towards you to pull you into a hug. You twist away from him and step back, out of his reach.
“We were supposed to go out for dinner two weeks ago and you never showed. You don’t even remember?”
“I’m sorry, I was busy. I was…” His voice trails off as he realises that he actually can’t tell you even if he wanted to. How would you feel if you knew that the hand that wiped tears from your face also wiped out entire organisations? He loved you, so much so that he didn’t want to know—not because he didn’t trust you, but because he didn’t want you to be afraid of him.
“Yes?”
“I was busy.”
“You can’t even tell me what you were doing? For Celestia’s sake, Childe, you work at the bank. What could they possibly have you doing that eats up so much of your time?”
“It’s classified,” He says weakly. Deep down, he knows you’re right—the bank was a terrible coverup for working for the Fatui.
“Of course.” you huff. It’s always classified. “When you’re allowed to tell me the truth, come back to me.”
“Hang on a sec, what do you mean by that?”
You sigh. “I can’t keep coming in second place to your work. When things have calmed down, we can—”
“Are you breaking up with me right now?”
You wring your hands together. You didn’t want it to come to this, but you know you can’t—shouldn’t—settle for this treatment.
“No. I think you just need time to get your priorities straight.”
~
You’re not usually one for gossip, but when your friend asks about the whereabouts of the ginger that normally follows you around, you can’t help but let the words spill out of your mouth.
“I’m always second place to his work,” you complain, crossing your arms. “It’s tiring, it really is. He’s great and all, and he always takes good care of me when he’s around, but he rarely ever has enough time.”
“Maybe he’s not right for you,” your friend quips, right as Childe creeps up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder.
“Who isn’t?” He asks, glancing between you and your friend. He’s almost certain they’re using this chance to get one over on him, to coax you into their arms and he. is. not. having. it.
“We were just talking,” you say softly, attempting to lessen the tension. He ignores you.
“Come on,” he says, walking away and taking your hand as he leaves. “I’m making this up to you.”
“How?”
“You’ll see."
𝒅𝒊𝒍𝒖𝒄
“You forgot our date again.”
Diluc looks up from the cup he’s polishing, his face morphing into a look of grim realisation as he comes to terms with the fact that he did it again. The cavern is almost empty, even though it’s barely even closing, and a heavy silence falls between the two of you.
“I’m so sorry, my love,” he says wearily, putting the cup down and taking your hands in his. “I don’t even have an excuse.”
You know his excuse, whether he knows you do or not. If you’re being sidelined so he can protect Mondstadt in times of need, you almost can’t be too mad. He just has a lot on his plate, right?
You smile at him, cupping his face in your hand and stroking his cheek lightly. “It’s okay.”
Diluc blinks, surprised by your leniency. “Don’t do that—don’t justify this on my behalf. It’s not ‘okay’, yn.”
Now it’s your turn to look surprised—Diluc can take criticism. If anything, the fact he doesn’t take it to heart is what makes him able to act upon it. But he’s clearly taking this seriously.
“I’ll make this up to you,” he says, glancing around the shop. There’s still no one inside, and if his memory serves him correctly, around this time things are incredibly slow. He shouts something to his colleagues about going on his break, and takes your hand.
“Diluc, wait. You can’t just skip out on work—”
“I’ve been skipping my breaks for the last few weeks, and we’re incredibly slow at this time of day. They won’t miss me for a couple of hours.”
“You really shouldn’t.”
“Placing so much importance on my work is what got us here in the first place. It wouldn’t hurt to not be so rigid once in a while.” He mutters. “Let’s go somewhere nice for dinner, it’s on me.”
~
Later, when your friend catches you parting ways with Diluc at the restaurant, they watch you with ever growing curiosity. Wasn’t he supposed to be working?
“Hey! Long time no see,” They grin. You wave back, grateful for the company. Leaving Diluc’s side always makes you feel somewhat lonely—you never know when you’ll next get a chance to be with him like this. “Isn’t Diluc supposed to be working right now?”
“Yes, but he forgot one of our dates, so he was just making it up to me.” You cross your arms, suddenly feeling defensive. It’s okay if you criticise Diluc to his face, but hearing someone else try to say something about him, especially when he’s not around to defend himself, really puts you on edge.
Your friend chuckles. “How much time did he give you?”
“I’m not sure I like what you’re implying.”
You hadn’t even realised Diluc had returned, consumed by the sheer audacity of your friend’s comment. He looks at you, pointedly ignoring your friend and smiles conspiratorially. “I’m taking the evening off. Let’s find something entertaining to do.”
𝒌𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒂
“Well, hello sunshine,” Kaeya drawls, looking up from his stack of paperwork. He looked tired, but it seems that your presence has brightened up his work filled day. Or it would have, if you weren’t wearing such a spectacular scowl. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“You skipped out on our date last week.” You grumble, crossing your arms.
“You came all the way here to tell me that?” Kaeya stands up and closes the door to his office. He didn't really want the whole of headquarters hearing this particular conversation. On his way back from the door, he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on top of yours. “We can talk about this later, hmm? I have a lot of work to do and I can’t really apologise properly here, can I?”
“You can.”
“Not the way I want to.”
“Kaeya, you’re supposed to be on a break right now. What could possibly be slowing you down so much?”
Does he really want to risk telling you that it’s your fault? That the thought of you always gets him off task, and then he has to work extra hours to catch up, and then he skips out on work to come and see you, getting even more off task. Is it really fair to blame you for his inability to prioritise?
“I have things on my mind,” he mutters. “Things that are going to get worse if you don’t leave.”
“I’m getting seriously worried for you, you know? I barely see you anymore.”
Kaeya feels himself melt with every word. He can’t see your face, a conscious decision he’s made so that you can’t manipulate him with your beauty, but he knows the expression you're pulling. He kisses your hair lightly. “I’m sorry, darling. You know I am.”
You spin around in his arms, staring at him accusingly. “You’re not sorry. You’re just saying that so I don’t dump you.”
“Would you dump me?”
“No.”
“See, that would be an irrational worry on my part.” Kaeya chuckles, kissing you softly. “A rational worry is one about my supervisor walking in on this.”
“You’re on a break. You should be allowed to do whatever you want.” You complain.
“I’m not falling for this, yn.” He sighs. “I’ll come pick you up at eight, okay?”
You scowl at him, raising your eyebrow.
“I promise. Hand on heart. Knight’s honour. Just please leave my office before I lose all sense of reasoning.” And he’s not exaggrating. He’s five minutes away from locking his office door and kissing you until your lips are swollen.
~
You were glad for your friend for wanting to meet up. It took your mind your mind off of whatever Kaeya had planned for you. But they were also very good at being nosy, so when you stood up to leave, you had to keep the incoming 21 questions in mind.
“Why are you leaving?”
“Kaeya’s picking me up,” you smile, picking your bag up.
“Are you always at his beck and call like this?” They complain. “You never give me second chances when I stand you up.”
“That’s cause you never apologise.”
“Neither does Kaeya.” They scoff, mumbling to themselves. Later, when you and Kaeya are walking to an undisclosed location as part of his apology for neglecting you, he scoffs and says: “I always apologise. Don’t I, sunshine?”
You grin to yourself and tug his hair playfully. “Not with words.”
𝒛𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊
“Welcome home, love,” Zhongli says, as you return home. He doesn’t move from his post in the kitchen, occupied by the food on the stove.
“Hello,” You smile, following the sound of his voice. “I thought we were going out tonight?” You say, when you catch sight of the food on the stove. You wrap your arms around his waist, expecting him to say something like ‘I decided to make you you favourite food instead’ or ‘I thought we could have a picnic’. He doesn’t.
“Hmm? When did we plan that?”
“Last week,” You say pointedly, pulling away from him. “You don’t remember?”
“I wasn’t under the impression that that was a serious arrangement.” He says passively.
“Are you serious right now?”
“Why would I not be?”
“That’s really selfish of you. If you didn’t want to go, why not just say that instead of leading me on?”
“I wasn’t aware that there was a specified amount of times a month we had to go out. It simply seems excessive to me.” He doesn’t look up from his cooking, almost unaware of the fact his actions are upsetting. As far as he knows, people don’t often place such importance on where they eat. It’s about eating together, is it not?
“Your self-righteous ignorance seems excessive to me too.” You huff.
“I’m not sure why you’re so upset.”
“Then listen to what I’m saying.”
Zhongli turns the stove off and turns to look at you. Moments like this always remind him of how out of touch he can be—something that was as minor as going out to eat has truly upset you, even though it meant barely anything to him. “Alright, I apologise.” He says “I’m listening. Talk to me.”
“I know it sounds silly, but eating at home is different than going out. It’s less stressful.” You sigh, you lip trembling as you hold back tears. “I guess these kinds of things don’t mean anything to you, but they do mean something to me.”
He takes a deep breath. When did he allow himself to lose sight of the things you enjoyed? He couldn’t forgive himself for this kind of slight, let alone expect you to let it slide.
“I sincerely apologise, my love.” He sighs, gently wiping away a stray tear.
“Do you really care that little about the things I enjoy? Do you just do them because you feel you have to?” You ask him. You don’t allow yourself to fall into his arms, because then you know you’ll forgive him for it all without finding a solution. “Please be honest with me.”
“I don’t enjoy them all,” He says carefully. “Not the activities themselves. But I enjoy the joy they bring you, and the time we get to spend together.”
You sniff, pulling him into a hug and pressing your face into his chest. “Would it be better if we looked for things we both enjoy?”
Zhongli hums to himself. “Perhaps,” he says, gently stroking your hair. “But in the meantime, I don’t see why we can’t go out to eat anyway. That is, if you’re not opposed to the idea.”
#genshin impact#zhongli#zhongli x reader#kaeya fanfic#kaeya x reader#diluc#diluc x reader#childe#childe x reader#genshin fanfic#genshin x reader
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Fuck it Friday
Tagged by the adorable and wonderful @panbuckley @hippolotamus @wildlife4life @honestlydarkprincess sharing a fic that I loved writing and sharing. Posting now cos I’m off the deepest darkest wales today so who knows what kind of Internet access I’ll find this week.
Tagging to share if they want to @ronordmann who made the wonderful cover @shortsighted-owl @prince-buck-diaz @heartshapedvows @heartbeatdiaz @thewolvesof1998 @fiona-fififi @alyxmastershipper @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @spaceprincessem @wikiangela @the-likesofus @like-the-rest-of-la @princessfbi @cowboy-buddie @buddierights @housewifebuck @stagefoureddiediaz @elvensorceress @bekkachaos @thekristen999 @megsvstheworld @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy - and vos it fic I’ve tagged some new people too hope you don’t mind… anyone else tag me in I love to see what you’re up to - don’t be shy 💕
Who You Gonna Call?
Call 1: Silence fills the room as soon as Eddie hangs up the phone. He’d known something was wrong the second he’d seen his Dad’s caller ID pop up at 2pm on a Wednesday afternoon. It had been a quick call, just long enough to update him on the situation, his Dad had been keen to get back to Abuela, Eddie doesn’t blame him, he wishes he could be there too. He hates that she’s moved away even though he knows it made sense. He just misses her so much, worries about her too, even more now.
His phone is still in his hand so he doesn’t really think much about what he’s doing, just makes the call. It’s picked up in under three rings and Eddie breathes out a heavy greeting.
‘Hey. It’s me.” Although Buck knows that, caller ID and all.
He gets a “Hey,” right back and then after a brief pause Buck asks the question Eddie knew he would.
“You ok?” There’s quite concern in his friend’s voice, he already knows something’s wrong. Eddie guesses there must have been something in his voice to give it away, even if he has only said three words. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised, Buck’s good like that. He knows people, he sees things people don’t expect him to and he cares. Eddie knows he’s lucky to be one of the people Buck cares about.
“Not really,” Eddie sniffs and he can just imagine Buck stopping whatever he was doing and frowning in worry. It’s an expression he’s quite familiar with but he hasn’t seen too much of lately, not now things are getting a little better for him.
“My Dad called, it’s my Abuela.” He takes a deep slightly shuddering breath, “she’s in the hospital, they’re doing tests and things but no one's sure what’s wrong, Dad tried to play it down but I could tell he was worried.”
“And now you’re thinking about plane tickets right?” The understanding is instant, Eddie nods and confirms Bucks guess.
“Yeah, I can’t go, I know that and I’m glad he told me but..”
“You’re too far away and you feel useless.”
Again he nods, a small huff of air escapes too, Buck knows him well.
“I’m gonna call her later, Dad said she’s sleeping.”
“She’ll like that, give her my love.” A heartbeat later Buck says “You want me to come over?”
He does but what he says is “No it’s ok, you’re busy. I just wanted to talk to you.”
Buck’s voice is soft, “Anytime Eds. I’m always here, you know that.”
They hang up not long afterwards, Eddie feeling slightly better having spoken to someone. No, having spoken to Buck, who’s right, he is always there for him. Every time. Eddie’s still not sure what he’s done to deserve it but he’s glad, so very glad he has Buck in his life.
Call 2
Caller ID tells him it’s Buck’s calling and he doesn’t even wait for Eddie to say hi, just jumps in with,
“Eddie! You have to help! Maddie’s going to kill me.”
“What have you done now?” Eddie knows that tone, he waits to hear what minor crisis Buck finds himself in today.
“I’ve lost Jee’s favourite teddy. Maddie just called and Jee’s distraught.”
Eddie thinks Buck’s worked himself up into a similar state by the sound of him.
“Ok, calm down.”
“I am calm.”
“You’re really not, ok, take a sec and...”
“I’ve looked everywhere, Jee will never forgive me, Maddie won’t either.”
“Buck you were here this morning, let me check, maybe it fell out somewhere.”
“Please find it Eddie, I’m a terrible Uncle.”
Eddie rolls his eyes as he pulls cushions around and looks under and behind couches and chairs.
“You’re a fantastic Uncle. Jee loves you. Maddie loves you too. A lost teddy isn’t going to change that .”
“I don’t know Eds. She really loves that bear.”
His hand closes around something fluffy under one of his chairs, he pulls it out and recognises the bear Jee had had earlier.
“Well it’s a good job I’ve found it then.”
“You have!? Oh thank god!” he can just imagine Buck's face, the way he’s throwing his head back, exposing his neck, mouth open as he sighs in relief. He gets lost in the image for a moment then shakes himself free.
“I’ll run it over to Maddie for you, I’m closer.”
“Thank you, thank you, you're the best man, I mean it.”
He laughs, he’s glad he could help wipe Buck’s distress away, a quick trip to Maddie and Chim’s is the very least he can do for Buck.
Eddie knows he’d do almost anything for his friend, but all he says is “No problem, just glad I can help reunite a girl with her bear.” before he hangs up, bear in hand ready to save Buck’s neck from his niece’s tears and sister’s wrath
Read on AO3
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Hi there. Any mdtb AU fic recs (modern setting preferably or unique settings) that you could share? Thanks :)
Sure thing! I'm gonna try to list some of the less popular (around 500 or less kudos) fics that I love so there's a higher chance people haven't read them yet, and also, so they'll get more love.
Forward by @raendown
Modern AU where Madara meets Tobirama again at a soccer game. Very cute and Raendown's works are all amazing. Honestly, they have a ton of good Modern AU's, so I'd just go check their profile out and search their Modern AU tag.
Get Yourself Someone Who Can Do Both by Gracelte
A funny modern AU Valentine's fic where every year for Valentine's, Madara pretends to go get stood up at a restaurant to get free meals.
The Boss's Sweetheart series by Sylencia
An overall amazing series, I think the second one is my favorite just because of the scene they make at their date and how Madara tries to make up for it afterwards.
In Need of Good Food by @wisiaden
A very funny food fic where Tobirama has a ton of food allergies, but doesn't let that stop him from enjoying renown chef Madara's food.
To Whom it May Concern by Honks
A very cute and funny Modern fic with an online crochet teacher Tobirama, who goes by Suiton, and a Madara who is a very good son who is just trying to help his mother out by emailing Suiton questions about his pattern videos.
Of Fungi And Voyria by @messier-47
This is actually a Stardew Valley au, though no knowledge of the game is needed (as I have none and still enjoyed it). It's got some heavy themes though, so mind the tags. Totally worth it if you can read it though, it's what got me into Messier's fics (which are all amazing, especially the spice).
Two Of A Kind by midnightfeast
This is a MadaTobi fic in a kinda loose way, as Madara is an inmate at a prison, and Tobirama is a horse, but they bond. It's cute, and a little funny seeing Madara become the Horse Girl tm. Definitely worth a read.
Angel of Vengeance by Makiaru
Modern cop Tobirama who requires help from a hired killer Madara for a special case after something happens and his suspect walks free, allowing them to kidnap his younger brothers.
And now, for some spice!
No Matter the Distance by Sylencia
Modern AU long distance relationship with some nice phone sex.
Play Games With Me by Sir_Thirst_A_Lot
A funny modern gaming streamer Tobirama and Madara fic with lots of fluff and UST.
Working Relationship by CreativeSweets
A modern superhero au with kleptomaniac Tobirama and superhero Madara falling for each other. In mask or out of mask? I won't say. It's a good story on its own, but it does have some spice in it.
Ride For Me by Pengress
A spicy fic set in a modern sex club where Madara goes to let off some steam by himself. Tobirama likes what he sees and maybe wants to show Madara how much better things would be if he let Tobirama join. For now though he can't touch Madara, so he'll have to get creative.
All in the Technique by @illogicals-blog
Tobirama moves back home and rejoins the Uchiha owned dojo where Madara has become an instructor. Lots of UST, and many innuendos about working out.
Send them Packing by @ellionne
A funny modern female Madara exacting revenge on some men who decide to spread fake stories about sleeping with her by pretending to have a dick they apparently "forgot" to mention in their stories, and a sec shop worker Tobirama who is all too willing to help her, in more ways than one.
If there's a Modern AU fic you like that I didn't list, it's either because it's something I've already linked before in a previous rec list, which you can find here or here, or it's from Raendown or Sylencia, who pretty much dominate the Modern AU tags, and you should definitely just go to their pages and read all their fics.
#fic rec list#its crazy how many modern aus are by reandown and Sylencia#theyre all so good too#please check them out#fiyas speaks#madatobi#madara uchiha#tobirama Senju
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A Surprisingly Beautiful Voice
AO3 / Commissions / Links /
Contents: fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, overwhelmed Izzy, spoilers for ofmd s2e6
Summary: How is Izzy coping with emotions when he gets that beautiful look and sings at the end of the episode?
a/n: I watched this episode a few days ago, and I couldn’t get Izzy’s mesmerising voice out of my head .. or maybe that whole scene ok
I’ll do an illustration of him in his beautiful look at all costs, when I have the time.
Hope you enjoy it! <3
tags my beloveds: @giosnape (let me know if you would like to be tagged:) )
Izzy was stumping on the ship,
Limping towards the exit,
When he saw Wee John,
Putting something onto this face.
Dum dum dum,
The unicorn’s wooden leg sang,
As he shuffled towards him and asked,
“What’s that?”
“Oh, I’m doing my makeup for Calypso's birthday.”
Izzy didn’t reply, only gazed,
At their reflections in the mirror ahead,
He couldn’t help but stare,
Leaning closer and think,
If he does it,
Would it be.. too much for me to do the same?
Could possibly Blackbeards’ first mate,
Dream to try something out like this?
It looks so ..beautiful,
So much colour and nice shapes,
Just to imagine it on my face!
Would I look comical ?
Would the others mock and Ed laugh,
Would—
“Can you do this for me too?”
Words ran through his lips,
With the force of west winds,
Before he could stop,
That longing feeling in his chest,
That yearns for acceptance.
Wee John stopped his moves for a sec,
Looking at the other man,
He was so surprised,
Didn’t know at first what to reply.
Izzy felt shame climbing up his face,
Waiting for the ridiculed rejection,
He waited for what felt like hours,
For inevitable in his opinion,
But it didn’t came,
Only friendly silence remained.
He dared to steal a glance at the tall man,
He didn’t see contempt nor jeering,
Only a welcoming smile,
That made him feel recognised.
“Yeah, sure I can!”
The two of them spent at least half an hour,
Deciding the colours for Izzy’s look,
And as John did the face,
Izzy started to feel more and more pretty.
He watched as he transformed,
Under the careful work of that Crew,
Eyes fixated on his own face,
He couldn’t help but gape,
At his own reflection in the frame,
He remembered when he first saw a worm,
Changing into the most beautiful being,
A butterfly,
An otherworldly soul,
Floating in beauty,
Charming the dark sea,
Light as a feather,
And free—
“Aaand it’s done!”
— The voice of Wee John pulled him back,
To the desk he was sitting at,
He looked again,
And was breathless,
Could it be really me,
Who looks that magnificent?
“I-I understand if you don’t like it,
We can wash it off and—-“
“It’s so.. lovely.”
— The unicorn’s voice was so little,
Not above a whisper,
He tried to fight those fucking tears,
That threatened to appear.
He felt a gentle tap on his back,
Encouraging him to go ahead.
“ I finish mine,
Then we can go together,
If you would like ..?”
“Thank you.���
— Izzy was too moved to behave,
With his usual grumpiness and swears,
He sat there and waited,
For Wee John to get ready,
He also couldn’t stop his eyes,
To wander towards his own imagine.
He emerged after the tall man,
From the murky below,
Heart thundering loudly in his ear,
Am I really gonna do it?
Or should I?
I would be the laughingstock of these twats aside.
Maybe… they helped me a lot these days..
It will be okay.
Face hiding nervousness,
Eyes reflecting excitement,
Chest burying restlessness,
He went to Frenchie,
And -asked- ordered him to start,
A slow melody he had in mind.
A voice filled the air,
That usually hushed and vexed,
Could only tell swears and meanness,
But now it was sweet,
And flowing afresh,
Make flowers blossom in chests,
So melodic and pleasant,
Full of charm and tenderness.
The air just carried it more and more,
Making it sit on moved members of the crew,
However it wasn’t heavy nor loadsome,
It was a blanket of warmth.
The song ended,
And with that the voice,
But the feeling remained,
Embracing everyone on the Revenge.
There was a moment of silence when,
Izzy panicked again,
But this feeling soon disappeared,
The crew surrounded him,
And praised,
With little truths and gentle taps,
That he couldn’t take,
Without feeling red petals traveling up his face,
He let them to hug and adore him,
Feeling too giddy and safe,
For god knows if for the first time.
Candles continued to burn,
In the colourful lanterns,
That made,
Everything seem more comfy.
The Moon smiled with them too,
Ordering her clouds to move.
Thank you for reading:)
#izzy's beautiful voice!#ofmd izzy#ofmd#ofmd s2#ofmd spoilers#izzy hands#izzy hands fic#ofmd izzy fic#our flag means death#our flag means fanfic#our flag means love#ofmd crew#ofmd s2e6#ao3#writing#poem fic#poem#israel hands#izzy hands fanfiction#fluff#one shot#ofmd fanfic#ofmd fandom
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The History of Area 59 Ruins
If you're dumb enough to Max Risk CC this weekend, you're a big enough schmuck to come to the Area 59 Ruins.
For now, let's settle with a little mood music while I get started.
So this post is just me kind of rambling nostalgically but with CC12 coming soon I figure we can enjoy the end of our CC journey with the very beginning. Plus this event happened like, at the beginning of this game's lifespan I kind of doubt most of the current Arknights players remember doing it.
These days you can only experience this map in the Training Grounds, which is a bit of a shame that it hasn't rotated back in. The gist of the stage is this: from the bottom left entrances come Light-Armored Soldiers, Heavy Defenders, and Armed Militants. From the upper left come Avengers, Hateful Avenger, and one Invisible Caster Leader I call The Rat Bastard because he sucks. From the bottom right, only Invisible Caster Leaders spawn.
There's no bosses and all of the enemies primarily just have their stats (and the Caster's Camo) to threaten you with. If you look at the contracts available...
Originium Zone: Activation III - Enemies have their HP increased by 2.5x. (3 points)
Originium Zone: Stimulus III - Enemies have their ATK increased by 1.8x. (3 points)
Objective: Blade Breaker III - Avengers and Hateful Avengers have their HP, ATK, and DEF increased by 2.2x, 1.8x, and 3x, respectively (3 points)
Objective: Armament Destruction III: Armed Militants have their HP, ATK, RES, and weight increased by 2.5x, 1.8x, 1.75 and 2, respectively. (3 points)
Objective: Covert Action III: Only 4 Operators (including the Support Unit) can be included to the squad. (3 points)
Objective: Strategic Dispatch: Casters and Medics cannot be used. (2 points)
Objective: Deep Infiltration: DP generation rate reduced by 50% (1 DP every 2 seconds). (2 points)
Environment: Precipituous Terrain III: Friendles cannot be deploying in 10 tiles (3 points)
Anti-Armor I: Enemies have their DEF increased by 50% (1 point)
Anti-Sniper I: Ranged enemies have their attack range increased by 50%. (1 point)
Anti-Mobility I: Enemies have their speed increased by 50%. (1 point)
Objective: Last Line of Defense: Life Point reduced to 1. (1 point)
Originium Zone: Erosion III: Friendlies have their maximum HP reduced by 75%. (3 points).
There might be a couple that jump out at you (we'll get to that in a minute) but total max risk was 29 and most of these are pretty simple in their execution. What was the Max Risk that was achieved by players?
To the best of my knowledge, the Max Risk achieved was 26. Which is kind of wild to think about. In this day and age it seems like almost a guarantee that a CC will get a Max Risk clear super quickly, and there are some truly heinous clears like that Ashpoint All Specialist clear. So how...did this happen?
Well there's two reasons really. The first is actually really simple: as of CC Beta's release, the most recently released operator was Mostima. This meant in terms of meta-breaking 6-stars, you had: Ch'en, Siege, Shining, Nightingale, Ifrit, Eyjafjalla, Exusiai, Angelina, Silverash, Hoshiguma, Saria, Skadi, Schwarz, Hellagur, Magallan, and Mostima. There's a lot of good operators there, but most people would agree that the grand majority of them aren't what we think of when it comes CC all-stars.
The second is how the stage is set-up. With all the tags enabled, let's look at the stats of two enemies in particular: the Hateful Avenger
and the Armed Militant
(HP, ATK, DEF, RES, Movement Speed in tiles/sec, Weight, and Attack Range)
Now despite that gigantic 99,000 HP, the Hateful Avengers were not really a big problem. They can actually be Push stalled basically endlessly. They'll take a while to actually die but it's not particularly hard to just whittle them down.
The Armed Militants are the problem. Their 5 Weight means they are very difficult to stall with shifting and thanks to the Erosion contract, nothing survives their axe swings. So already the map has two lanes you need to hold.
But it actually has a secret, THIRD LANE.
These guys are also nightmares and need to be dealt with basically immediately. Their 720 damage Arts attacks are much more lethal with -75% HP, but their increased attack range makes them a bigger issue. With the tag, they have an Attack Range of 3 tiles, but this is a little deceptive in how its framed. Let me illustrate.
Attack ranges are essentially circles, with a radius of the attack range distance in tiles. This means they can hit some tiles you might immediately think are actually four tiles away and not three.
The difference in attack ranges means that the Caster Leaders will often have complete free reign from their starting position to blast away at your entire bottom line if left unchecked, which is very bad. This isn't even getting into the one that spawns at the top too.
(Ignore the quality of these diagrams, I did them in Paint.)
So you have three lanes to defend, that's not hard, right?
Objective: Covert Action III: Only 4 Operators (including the Support Unit) can be included to the squad.
This. This is the bastard. To this day, I don't believe they've ever done a similarly restrictive squad condition in a main map (its possibly been in a rotating one, there's been 12 CCs I'm not checking).
The Risk 26 clear takes the 2 risk HP increase contract (which only boosts HP by 1.6x) and the 1 risk Squad contract (maximum of 10). With the current pool of obviously busted operators, I think it would be really easy to take the Risk 3 HP increase contract and the Risk 2 squad contract. Risk 28 is obvious. But trimming the squad down to four operators is a much more monumental task. I don't know if I would say impossible, but very very difficult.
Area 59 Ruins also ran on the rotating schedule for two CCs (CC0 Barrenlands and CC1 Pyrite) and I'll include them later on as their existence as rotating stages is far less interesting and I'm making this post while recovering from a virus lmao.
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Turn Left Ch 27- The Monty Hall Problem
Forces work to separate Shepard and Garrus just as things heat up. (CW: drug use)
Relationship: Femshep/Garrus Vakarian
Archive Warnings in author's note
Additional tags: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, slow build, alternate universe- canon divergence, detective noir, sex club, anonymous sex, canon temporary character death, murder mystery, drug use, dom garrus vakarian, whump, smut, heavy angst, alien sex, dual pov, an overly sexual elcor named candy, earthborn, ruthless, fake/pretend relationship, dead dove: do not eat, identity porn, minor character death
Detective AU mixed with identity porn mixed with so much whump my fingers are bleeding
(or, start from the beginning here)
lil text blurb:
“You wanted to see me, sir?”
The glass case that surrounded Medina’s office gave Shepard the distinct feeling as if she were a lobster in one of those all-you-can-eat buffets just waiting to be boiled alive and dunked in obscene amounts of butter. She always liked to say that Medina had a glass office because he was into some kinky exhibitionist shit and enjoyed torturing his officers with everyone else in the precinct watching as if it were some gruesome spacecar crash that they couldn’t turn away from. Today was no exception.
His voice on the tool was strained and oddly formal when he asked Shepard where she was. Of course, she couldn’t exactly say she was hosting two fugitives in a C-Sec appointed safehouse, now could she? So she lied, like she did so often that came out easier and faster than the truth, spinning some yarn that she was meeting one of her moles that was starting to feel a little queasy about their placement. Medina didn’t yell, he didn’t raise his voice-- which for him was absolutely a first. In a chokingly polite way, he asked that Shepard come see him as soon as she possibly could, as it was a sensitive matter of great importance. And he actually said those words in that order like it was fucking 1876 or something.
Medina, not looking up at Shepard, gestured down to the seat in front of his desk that she was convinced was designed with absolutely zero comfort and one hundred percent torture in mind. His eyes, jet black and piercing, were trained on his hands, his periwinkle tattoos bisecting his face in half down his nose and mouth. Shepard didn’t know if it was because she was spending a whole lot of time with turians lately, but she swore she could hear his subvocals. Or at least, she could feel the rumbling underneath her feet, as if they were an old generator running in another room.
“Sit. Please. Do you want a water? Coffee?” Oh fuck. Medina was not a nice man. He didn’t do polite smalltalk. Either he was about to hurl the table across the office and shatter one of the walls, or he was about to tell Shepard that he was terminally ill, there was no in between. She shook her head. “Alright then. I’m going to give you a chance first. Do you want to tell me why you think you’re in my office right now?”
Shepard had no clue. And this time, she wasn’t kidding around. She had gotten into so much trouble lately, the list of Reasons Why Medina Would Call Her Into His Office was so long that it stretched out past her desk and snaked itself onto the floor. So she shook her head, staring pointedly down at her knees. She figured the less blabbing she did, the chances that she would park her foot right in her mouth were present.
“Nothing? Nothing at all that would make you think that I would want to talk to you?”
“I paid Trent in Hacking fifty creds to jimmy the vending machines to my touch ID so that I get free protein bars,” Shepard blurted out. Medina just stared at her for what seemed like minutes, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth.
He reached underneath his desk for a datapad, tossing it forward until it skidded to a halt in front of Shepard. Hands shaking slightly, she picked it up, expecting the very worst. Her leading a charge against Fist in Chora’s Den, her breaking Wrex out of prison, her housing a fugitive, her letting Benezia’s daughter murder two asari in front of the precinct…
#mass effect fanfiction#mass effect#mass effect fanfic#shakarian#shepard x garrus#ao3 fanfic#turn left#femshep#garrus vakarian
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GETTING TO KNOW THE BL GANG
I was tagged by @he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle, thanks for the tag!
Rules: answer the questions and @ some people. include the tag 'g2ky BL mutuals 2022' on your post so we can find everyone's answer.
What have been the BLs that took you by surprise this year?
180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us (2022) : I mean oh my GOD, that was earth shattering, I’m literally forever changed as a person
Triage (2022) : girl, I was in that timeloop right there with Tin, the stupid little guy
Choco Milk Shake (2022) : nobody expected the cat and the dog reincarnated show, I’m obsessed
My Teeth Your Love (2022) : bro teeth kink?? and heavy trauma?? what a mix really, lethal
What have been the BLs that left you a bit/a lot disappointed this year?
Big Dragon (2022) : listen I expected BDSM fest, a lot of Yai on his knees, I expected to see Yai being dominated by the woman dom before as backstory before the mess started with Mangkorn (for horny reasons, i’m only human), I expected way more then 30 secs of gl cuz they were literally the only other side couple, instead all I got was miscommunications and I love triangle I could not care less about with a guy that should be in a throuple with Yai’s friend’s (go watch My Mate Match), and apparently I’m getting a s2 of it so they better fix it in there
Roommates of Poongduck 304 (2022) : these guys have so much chemistry, this could have been better, I just feel woobly about it all
What has been you favorite BL this year?
Kinnporsche (2022) : adhgadfjfgdhgfsjhgfjhsgafjhgsa no words really
Not Me (2021-2022) & The Eclipse (2022) : we in the trans women making masterpiece bl era and I for one am glad to exist during it fr
Favorite BL couples (not just 2022)?
TanBunn
WenZhou
Yu Zhen x Shi Lei
DanYok
AkkAyan
KinnPorsche
VegasPete
What’s your non-bl favorite this year?
Bad and Crazy (2021-2022)
Interview With The Vampire (2022-)
Abbott Elementary (2021-)
Tagging @winteams @evan-eddie @deshimango @hiawin, no pressure in actuallly doing this!
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“Escritas cruéis" 🌋