#hunter?? that motherfucker was gone after a DAY
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My feelings on Gustholomule are very vague. Do I ship them? Sometimes. My default is thinking of them being the funniest snarkiest besties ever. A comedy duo if you will. They're only gay when I feel like it.
#theyre gay when i feel the need to refer to Through The Looking Glass Ruins as ''Gus's bi episode''#usually theyre just bros#i can usually picture a future where they stay bros#like theyre not as set in stone in my mind as lumity and huntlow are#HOWEVER#you wanna hear my thoughts on potentially romantic gustholomule??#i dont care if you dont. Anyway#i like the idea that if it ever DOES go turn out that way its not for a while#like a year or two or maybe even three#so i get my best of both worlds. i can have their fun totally platonic bond for a good long while#until something eventually changes#slow burn gustholomule is where its at honestly#like. amity? developed a crush after like....a month maybe#hunter?? that motherfucker was gone after a DAY#i like the idea that Matt who is way stupider than Amity and Hunter just happens to be way less romantically reckless#takes him a long while#also the comedy of gustholomule is you have the holy trifecta#the original trio of luz willow and gus. they started off losers. now they have bitches#literally bitches i mean. amity hunter and matt were all SO mean at the start#actually i got really into the idea of gustholomule while writing these tags#YEARS of being best friends and then suddenly an "oh.''#are you KIDDING me??#also also i love the idea of Amity and Hunter cornering Matt and being like#SO! *captain america sitting backwards in a chair meme* youve realized that youre a simp#gustholomule
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Since Raine was a teacher I think once they have Hunter living in their home they would immediately start to notice the signs of abuse. They would probably have issues with Hunter eating the normal amount of food for a kid his age because Belos starved him and also Hunter probably wouldn’t really be a big fan of something like pasta with sauce but wouldn’t say anything because he’s too nervous to make Raine unhappy with him so he doesn’t really eat much despite being underweight.
Hunter would probably go stiff if they put a hand on his shoulder or flinch if they heard them in anyway upset with him.
Hunter would probably take all of Raine’s suggestions on what to do while in the house at orders and carry them out with military precision even if Raine just suggested they watch a cartoon on the crystal ball.
Hunter probably has a lot of nightmares too so Raine would wake up to him screaming in his sleep.
Like Raine had hunter for a short while and the whole time it’s just one terrible revelation of what a monster Belos truly was after another.
raine definitely starts off worried about what the fuck jasper wants with this minor but i mean really theres better ways to Steal A Child, it being this SPECIFIC child who is VERY difficult to steal ironically makes it less suspicious like. okay. legitimately what is your game. and also like again despite the fact raine has seen him throw this kind on his ass a hundred times, theyve also seen him fucking vaporize one of their allies for trying to kill him so like. truly. what is his game here.
and then like. once they see how truly BAD it is with hunter, the way he flinches, how DEEP the soldier persona goes, the food and the sleep and the isolation- then its like. well, fuck, i would have wanted to help him too. so 1. how did the martlet know about all this before anyone else, because he CLEARLY knew about all this before anyone else did 2. why didnt he just tell me the truth? 3. why DIDNT he just take him and run?
i think theyre putting pieces together and while they probably have multiple theories- they might not know about the grimwalker stuff yet, but they know this kid is an orphan and related to the emperor, they know he was found the day the previous golden guard died, they know the martlet has the same colour hair as hunter, they've seen it, they know hes incredibly protective of him, they know the martlet is scarred as fuck and an incredible combatant AND a high level magic user despite never using magic- once they find out hunter cant use magic without a staff? click, dude. thats probably genetic! this guy has been around about as long as the previous GG has been gone. he looks like hunter, he's protective of hunter, he never uses magic without a staff, and the second raine asks darius about the previous GG, knowing they were close, "hey, did you ever see that guy use magic without a staff?" that seals the deal dude. raine has clocked that motherfucker from a mile away.
only now like. thats a NEW concern. okay, cool! parent. got it. well that explains his intentions. but now like- wow, he HAS hit this kid a lot, even if his motivations were clearly rescuing him. can he even be TRUSTED with him? would hunter be healthy living with this guy? is he even capable of living like a normal person? he still wont take off his stupid fucking mask or tell them his stupid fucking name! and oh, fuck- if he's the previous gg, he's done some VILE shit. should they be doing something about HIM?
darius and raine im sure have a very exciting conversation putting all the jigsaw pieces together before they realize that jasper isn't dead, jasper is the martlet, jasper is a powerless witch, jasper has a son, and holy shit is that son fucked up and in dire need of help.
meanwhile jasper is like ho ho i am sooooo good at lying and secrets absolutely no one suspects anything
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Did somebody say... ANOTHER RAMBLE?
*Barges in like about to stop a wedding*
(But thank you for wanting my rambles and liking them! I appreciate it and hope you have amazing day as well!)
OKAY SO, REMEMBER YOUR HELEL (ithaqua s tier skin) FANFIC. YOU SON OF WONDERFUL PERSON, I WAS LITERALLY OBSESSED OF THAT FANFIC, BUT I GOT IMAGINES WHILE READING THAT FOR ABOUT.. wait, let me count.
2329th
2330th..
Around 22331!
I WILL BE EXCITED IF YOU WRITE PART 2, but if you don't want! It's alright. I respect your boundaries and you of wanting what you want to write! I'm chill with it!
WHAT IF LIKE.. Well, probably like imagine too, WHAT IF S/O (the Farmer girl!), BUT S/O IS LIKE ROYALTY TOO (changing reputations here!), was actually and supposed to be betrothed to Helel when they were young/children. Like child marriage and all that.
I do think Helel would be surprised as child back then, but how children would react, he would be upset and confused. But he slowly accept it, thinking his fiance may as well be not so interested to him anyways. BUT THEN, when this motherfucker entered the room where he would meet his betrothed partner, and quickly fall in love at the sight of them.
His once act of bored and "man I don't want to be here, at all!" Turned into child-like and puppy crush on S/O, liking them already as he doesn't want to change at all. But, I think this is start of Helel obsession as well..
BUT ALSO TWIST HERE, Nathaniel (Or Nebu, I don't know which design suits him. But I like Ithawua Hunter! Nathaniel Nebuchadnezzar design more! I think it suits him!), Nebu actually likes S/O, but hearing them being betrothed to his own literal brother, Helel. He's upset and doesn't talk to Helel for awhile. MOSTLY YEARS AS THEY GROW UP
But during and after Helel exile, even though he's supposed to be the crowned king, with Nebu being now the Sun King. As he has the power with Helel gone as well (He coming back later), he makes S/O his own lover. Even though S/O promise themselve to only love Helel (it can be out of love or only doing it to satisfy the royals)
S/O situation will be like the farmer girl on the fic, locked up the cage and their body getting used, but with more punishment if S/O keeps mentioning Helel
But when Helel comes back (with trust issues), I think he will regeconize his own betrothed. Feeling happy and relief, just to see his own betrothed, but seeing what Nebu has done to them. You may hear some... Screams in the brother dungeon
But remember, Helel is very much fucked up after his years old exile. So, he's still the same but more overprotective and does keep his betrothed in the golden cage. Like trapped dove, with body of a delicate doll.
(I HAVE HYPERFIXATION ON THIS FANFIC)
(SORRY I'M BOTHERING YOU WITH BORDER OF RAMBLES!!)
Im screaming rn THIS IS SO GOOD AAA
As for part two to 'Darling Bird' idk cuz it my first idv fic and alot has changed i think in how i write Helel (he very corrupted) and my unnecessary need to world build bzjjzjzj that prob cringe and very religious themed ndnsjsj but one day jzjzjz
God i love these asks sobs pls if you have discord pls join my server! We are all screaming about florian (and florian x reader x norton lololol)
ALSO IM THINKING THT LUCA YOU WROTE TOO AAAA i miss him hchvnj my adhd brain exploding lol
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Spook
It’s time for the birthday boy! Math homework was a bitch on top of the massive caffeine crash so I was literally speed writing this. Enjoy.
Antisepticeye x GN!Reader, TW: blood mention, haunting, knife (unused)
Words: 939
You knew that he wasn’t one for big celebrations on his birthday, but you wanted to make this one special for his first birthday together with you. You were used to scouting out all the local haunted spots, and found an abandoned animatronic restaurant nearby that was set to be demolished soon. A perfect opportunity to add a bit more haunting into the ghost hunters’ lives as you brought your electronic demon of a boyfriend along to spend a day having fun and scaring people while you giggled silently from your hiding places.
He was at first begrudgingly coming along, until you pulled into the parking lot, and the hairs on the back of his neck pricked up as he gremlin crouched in the passenger seat.
“T’is place haunted?”
“Supposed to be.”
“If it wasn’t b’fore, it sure will be now!”
He excitedly glitches inside, flashes of green fractured through the broken windows as you let out a giggle. You brought along his birthday present, a hunting knife for him, and a few batteries for snacks in case he got hungry while excitedly exploring the abandoned pizza restaurant. You walk in through the front door, or rather around it through the broken front window. You found it humorous that it was still locked, even if the pizzeria closed down nearly a decade ago.
The room smells of blood, rot, and cheap pizza sauce. Not unusual for a haunted place since people like to do weird rituals for views on the internet, trying to summon demons and the spirits that haunt the grounds. You always knew if there were any actual demons or spirits around, mostly because Anti would sniff them out in the first place, often scaring them out, or at least keeping them away from you. He was like a guard dog in a sense, always taking his reward in the form of snacks and chin scratches after an investigation.
But this wasn’t a job like any other day, this was a day where he got to go have fun, explore around, and you’d just make sure he stayed away from any amatuer demon traps or pull him out of any territory fights. You looked on stage and found the gaze of the animatronics creepy, you felt as though their eyes were watching you, unblinking.
The brown bear stood in the center of the stage, holding a microphone with a small top hat and bowtie. A purple bunny stands off to the right of the bear, holding a worn, broken guitar that may have been red at some point. The third is some kind of bird, but you can’t quite make out if it’s a chicken or duck. Maybe at some point it was wearing an apron or bib, the straps still around its neck, but the clothing is long gone. Their never turning heads give you a sense of security, but you can’t help but feel like you’re being watched all the same.
You follow the stage until you reach a curtain in the corner, a deteriorated “OUT OF ORDER” sign in front. A peek behind the curtain reveals nothing there, but you hear the gentle creak of mechanics behind you, until you start hearing loud footsteps, sprinting at you. You turn around to see a rotted fox animatronic sprinting at you, mouth agape and claws ready to slice. You scream for Anti, diving behind the curtain when a familiar metallic giggle rings through the empty birthday room.
“YOU MOTHERFUCKING GLITCH BITCH- I DON’T CARE IF IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY I WILL FUCKING EXORCISE YOU-”
He stumbles out of the suit, collapsing onto the floor in a hysterical giggle fit, clutching his stomach as his glitching is off the walls. After a few minutes of you standing above him, tapping your foot with your arms crossed in disappointment, his giggles calm and he stands, wiping away a tear from his eye.
“Ye should’ve seen yer face! Ye really t’ought ye were goin’t’ die, huh~?”
“I will murder you~”
He kisses your face with a cheeky grin, before moving to latch onto you, backpack-style. He pokes your cheek with his finger, his other arm around your neck loosely to keep himself from falling off.
“Snack time~?”
“You done trying to scare me?”
“...maybe~”
“Anti…”
“FINE-”
“Thank you~”
He grins as you squeeze his hand lovingly, holding batteries up to his lips as he happily munches. You sigh lovingly, enjoying your koala cuddles in the middle of the gross, cold, dark, definitely haunted pizzeria. You walk around a bit more, looking for any other animatronics, wincing as the fox one collapses to the ground. He giggles, which causes you to join in with his laughing this time.
“You happy with your birthday celebration, diabhal~?”
“Absolutely, acushla~”
He piggybacks on you back to the car, where you give him the new knife out of your backpack. He holds it as he gremlin crouches in the passenger seat again, before glitching back into the pizzeria, testing it out on the animatronics once more. You hear him yelp, and glitch back into the car.
“GO- GO- GO- GO- GO-”
Stepping on the gas, you peel out of the parking lot, seeing glowing eyes through the broken window as the animatronics run up to the front entrance. You see the fox animatronic make a gesture with its hook that you can only assume was an attempted flip off. You glance at Anti, who looks a little spooked himself.
“Kids are spooky…”
“Of course you did…”
You laugh as he blushes bashfully, embarrassed that he was bested by a group of kids.
“Happy birthday, Anti~”
#antisepticeye#anti#anti x reader#antisepticeye x reader#jse anti#jse antisepticeye#jse antisepticeye x reader#jse anti x reader#septic egos#jse egos#fnaf#freddy fazbears#happy birthday#glitch bitch#TW: blood mention#TW: haunted#TW: animatronics#TW: knife#electric limeade#chaoswrites
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10 highlights of King's Tide
1. Belos betraying the Collector and Kikimora
2. Luz calling out Belos and bringing up good points about how no one will take him seriously after being gone on Earth for centuries
3. Luz cleverly branding Belos with the Emperor's Coven sigil
4. Witches, demons, and coven heads having their magic and life drained as soon as the eclipse happened
5. Raine severing Eda's right arm to save her from the curse
6. The Collector seemingly killing Belos by yeeting him against the wall with just their finger, reducing him to nothing but sludge
7. The Collector stopping the draining spell by moving the eclipse like an iPad touchscreen
8. A part of sludge dropping on Hunter's shoulder down to his back
9. King's sacrifice by using his sonic scream to send Luz, Amity, Willow, Gus, and Hunter to the human realm
10. Luz reuniting with Camila
King’s Tide was an absolute mindfuck. It solidified my hatred towards Belos, Odalia, and Terra. Odalia basically sold out by reporting the “stolen” blimp, Terra was too dumb to realize that the Day of Unity is a massive genocide, and Belos is extremely self-righteous about the “evils” of wild magic and his disdain towards witches. Seriously, fuck those despicable shitty-ass motherfuckers! 🖕🏻
It’s a relief that Belos’s backstabbing and manipulating deeds led him to his downfall thanks to Luz and the Collector. However, he’s not yet completely gone as his sludge successfully made it to the human realm, which makes me afraid that Belos is going to possess either Hunter or Jacob.
Now that the Collector stopped the draining spell, they began to warp reality, leaving the fates of the citizens of the Boiling Isles unknown. I hope that they realize that Belos’s words are nothing but complete bullshit and they cancel Odalia and Terra for conspiring with him.
As for season 3, I’m very angry at Disney for shortening it to 3 44-minute specials instead of renewing a full 20-episode season. It makes me want to punch a punching bag repeatedly just like what Morgan Terry did after she watched the episode.
That’s all I have to say and now that the show is on hiatus, I’m going to keep myself busy with other interests to stay sane.
#the owl house#toh#the owl house season 2#toh season 2#the owl house season 2b#toh season 2b#king's tide#fuck belos#fuck odalia blight#fuck terra snapdragon#belos is cancelled#odalia blight is cancelled#terra snapdragon is cancelled#fuck disney from the bottom of my heart
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Mine, Part 1
Characters: Sam, Dean, Jess
Pairing: past Sam x Jessica, past Dean x Jessica
Warnings: 1x01 adjacent, 10x03 adjacent, flashback, dub-con to non-con, smut, murder, pregnancy, obsessive/possessive Dean, creampie, rape by deception, mentions of arousal by murder/blood
Word Count: 3.1k+
A/n: this fic uses dialogue from 10x3. Demon!Dean refers to human Dean in the third person. Special Thanks to @writethelifeyouwant and @synmorite for brainstorming with me!
beta'd by @negans-lucille-tblr
"There’s no point of bringing your brother back now,” Dean grunts as Sam steps away, jerking against the chair. He’d play Sam’s game for now; how could he resist?
“Oh, I will bring him back,” Sam argues.
Sam just couldn’t let things go, but he was always the hopeful one, always saw the good in people, and now that Dean wasn’t human, he didn’t need to pretend that he was the good person that Sam believed him to be. Being a demon was freeing– letting loose, fucking whoever he wanted, killing whoever he wanted – despite Crowley’s insistance that he stick to those with contracts.
The dick who sold his soul just to have his cheating wife killed? Who was really the bad guy in that situation? Sure, Crowley was pissed, but both he and Dean knew who was really the stronger of the two, and Dean could easily overthrow him in Hell if he cared enough to do so. Once he was done here with Sam, he’d need to deal with Crowley. Dean isn’t dumb enough to think that he’s not the one who sold him out to his brother.
“See, where I’m sitting, there’s not much difference between what I turned into and what you already are,” Dean goads Sam, a look of guilt overwhelming his face as he realizes what Dean knows.
“I never meant–”
“It doesn’t matter what you meant. That line that you thought was so clear between us and the bad guys, ain’t so clear, is it Sammy?”
Tears well in Sam’s eyes, demon or not, Dean knows exactly how to play his brother. “You took a guy at his lowest, used him and it cost him his life and his soul. You know what, you might actually be worse than me.”
Sam fills another syringe, and walks carefully towards Dean. It was only the second injection, and it wasn’t making him feel more human, it was only pissing him off even more. He’d give Sam this; he was persistent, and Dean could think of something that might get him what he wants. Dean’s darkest secret, something the human him would never allow to say out loud, not wanting to shatter the perfect image that Sammy has of his older brother.
“This isn’t you talking, Dean.”
“Sure, it is, Sammy,” Dean grunts. “A new model: lean, mean, Dean. No one to hold me back, I can do what I want, whenever I want. And you know what I want, little brother?” Sam flinches slightly at Dean’s words, the familiarity seeming to physically hurt him. “First, I’m gonna tell you what really happened the night your little girlfriend bit the bullet, then I’m gonna do what your brother has wanted for so long, you know how obsessed he is with you? How much he loves you? And not that brotherly love, oh no, this sick motherfucker is in love with you. How fucked up is that? If he couldn’t have you, no one could. Think about it, Sammy, the second you try to settle down, and suddenly John’s gone missing? Quite the coincidence, don’t you think?”
November 2, 2005
Dean’s sure if he times everything right he can be back in Jericho before Sam even knows he’s gone. It’s barely 100 miles, and he knows he can easily make that trip in less than two hours with the way he drives. Plus, it’s already past midnight, and even if he needs more time with Jessica, he should still be back by the early morning. Sam belongs with him, not some chick – not some apple-pie life with her. Sam’s a hunter; a natural born killer, just like Dean, and nothing was going to keep them apart anymore.
It’s a little after two am when Dean pulls in front of Sam and Jessica’s apartment, he sneaks in the same way he did less than two days prior – this Jessica girl clearly didn’t learn a lesson about keeping windows locked. The apartment is small enough that anyone could easily find their way through, even in the dark, to the bedroom. Dean passes through the hallway, the outside light slightly illuminating some photos hanging on the walls.
Jessica is sleeping peacefully when he enters, her blonde curls cascading across her shoulders and notices a small box on the bedside table. Dean isn’t particularly picky when it comes to women, or men for that matter, but he can’t understand why Sam chose her. She is pretty – gorgeous, even – but enough to make Sam stay out of the life? What does she have that Dean doesn’t, what’s so special about her?
Jessica lets out a small sigh as she rolls over onto her side, and Dean wonders about the other noises she makes. He wants to touch her, see what has Sam hooked. He toes off his shoes quietly, sneaking around to the side of the bed not currently occupied. Dean undresses, setting the knife next to bed, and he feels his cock come to life as Jessica lets out another moan. The bed groans under Dean’s added weight as he slips in under the covers. He brings his body closer to Jessica’s, wrapping his hand around her waist and placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder.
“Mm, Sam,” she whimpers as Dean’s hand travels down and slips into her panties. “Thought you weren’t–”
“Shhh,” Dean shushes her, running his hand through her folds. Jessica’s body responds quickly to his touch, and after only a minute or so she’s a dripping, moaning mess. He easily slips a finger inside her, and she clenches hard around him. This must be what has Sammy so hooked, Dean thinks as he sucks a mark onto her neck.
“Sam, shit, baby,” Jessica moans as Dean slips in a second and third finger, stretching her out for him. Living in motel rooms for their entire life meant that very little was left to imagination, and he knew he was thicker than Sam, he hopes that she’s out of it enough not to notice.
“You gonna cum on my fingers, baby girl?” Dean does his best to mimic Sam’s voice, hoping that her half-asleep brain won’t notice that he sounds very little like his brother. Jessica lets out a groan as he feels her walls tighten around his fingers. “Cum for daddy.”
Jessica squirms, whining and moaning as he pumps his fingers in out, and when he rubs her clit, she comes undone around him. Jessica tries turning around, but Dean stops her, removing her cropped shirt to reveal her perfect tits. As she comes down from her high he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking off her sweet juices.
“Turn around f’me,” Dean orders, and she lazily tries to roll onto her back. “Nuh-uh, baby girl, ass in the air.” Jessica obliges and Dean pulls down her panties to reveal her glistening cunt. He leans forward and licks a stripe through her fold, and strokes his now painfully hard cock.
She tastes even sweeter this way, and Dean brings two fingers back to her, scissoring her open and getting the perfect view of the pussy Sam’s been burying himself in for the past two years. He lets go of his cock, needing to get a hand on her tits, and palms at her.
“Sam, baby, please,” Jessica moans against the pillow, “need you.”
Dean can hardly take it anymore, she does beg so sweetly. He sits up, and runs his cocks through Jessica’s folds, letting the tip of his cock nudge against her clit, causing her to whine out. Jessica moves back, encouraging Dean to enter her, but he doesn’t, he wants her to be a dripping mess before he fucks her, and she’s not quite there yet.
“When didja get so needy, baby girl?” Dean asks, letting her sit back so her ass is in his lap.
“Always needy for you, Sam,” she moans, rubbing herself over Dean’s cock. “I hate being away from you, baby.” Jessica attempts to turn her face, but Dean moves out of her sight.
“Keep your eyes closed, baby,” he instructs, “want you to focus on how it feels when I fuck you.”
“Then do it already,” Jessica sasses, making Dean’s cock twitch.
“You gonna be a little brat today?” Dean tsks, “maybe I won’t give you what you want.”
“Please, Sam,” she moans, and Dean slips his cock inside, unable to wait any longer. Dean can’t help but smirk as he watches hercunt stretch around, sucking him in as begins thrusting into her. “Fuck, baby, you feel so big.”
He reaches for her long locks, grabbing a handful to give himself leverage to fuck into her harder. Her ass bounces against him, a clapping filling the otherwise quiet of the apartment. Jessica mewls, begging him to go faster, harder, and when he does her pussy clenches, and he feels like she’s trying to milk him dry.
“Sam!” Jessica shakes as she cums around him again, and almost sends Dean over the edge himself. Jessica falls forward, letting her head hit the pillow as Dean continues to thrust lazily inside her. For a moment he thinks that if Sam was willing to share, he wouldn’t need to do what he came here for, but Sam doesn’t like other people touching his things, so it doesn’t leave Dean with much choice.
“C’mon, Sam, want you, want you to fill me up.”
“Okay, baby girl,” Dean smirks. If he’s gonna cum inside his little brother’s girl, he’s gonna make sure she watches him do it. “Turn around.”
Dean pulls out, letting Jessica flip over onto her back. Her eyes are still half-closed, her body relaxed from her two previous orgasms. He lifts her legs, her ankles next to his ears as he enters her again, this time at an even better angle. Dean grabs a pillow and props up her ass, thrusting even harder into her.
He gets a perfect view of her tits, bouncing as he moves, and he needs to get his mouth on them. He lets her legs go, and lowers himself, taking a nipple into his mouth and swirls his tongue around, he’s not sure how much time he’s spent there before Jessica is moaning, playfully pushing him away.
He turns his attention to her other breast, giving it the same treatment as the other, sucking marks and nipping at her. Jessica is moaning, and Dean is loving every moment of it. Knowing that she thinks it’s Sam making her feel this way only urns Dean on even more.
“Dean?!” Dean hears a click and light illuminates the room. He looks up to see blue eyes focused and full of horror looking down at him. “Get off’a me!”
Dean doesn’t move, only continuing to thrust into Jessica.
“Dean, please, stop.”
“I thought you wanted me to fill you up, sweetheart?” Dean smirks, holding her hands down as she tries to push him away. “I can see why Sammy wants to stay here with you, best cunt I’ve ever had. Are you such a slut that you can’t tell one dick from the other, baby girl? I’ve seen Sammy’s dick, and I know I’m bigger. Or are you such a whore that you’ll take any cock that you can get, hmm?”
“I’ll– I’ll tell Sam,” Jessica cries out as Dean continues. “I’ll tell him that you tricked me. That– that I thought it was him.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Dean reaches over and grabs the knife. “I really didn’t want it to come to this,” he feigns concern, and places the blade against her neck. “But first, I’mma cum in this perfect little pussy a’yours. And I want you to look at me when I do it.”
Jessica closes her eyes tight as Dean continues pumping into her harder, now chasing his own release. Dean presses the knife harder against her throat, a small trickle of blood appears on the underside of the blade and streams down onto the sheets.
“C’mon, sweetheart, you got another one in you, I just know it.”
Tears fall from Jessica's eyes, spurring Dean on even more, and feels her pussy flutter around him. She’s trying to resist, but Dean uses his free hand to reach between their bodies and rub her clit. Jessica whimpers, and with a half dozen more thrusts, Dean’s spilling himself inside her.
It takes Dean a few minutes to gather himself, remembering why he came here in the first place. Sammy. He needs Sammy to stay with him, needs him to leave this bitch who has somehow made him think he can have a normal life.
He grabs the clothes he had thrown to the floor earlier, and tosses a white night gown to her while he redresses. Jessica makes the stupid decision to try and run, but Dean’s faster, catching as she reaches the front door before dragging her into a large, overstuffed chair.
“That,” Dean tsks waving the knife in her direction, “was a stupid plan, sweetheart. All I wanted to do was talk.”
“Fuck you,” Jessica spits. Maybe this is what Sam saw in her. “You’re a fucking monster, and Sam’ll never forgive you for what you did.”
“Sweetheart, Sammy’s never gonna find out about any of this. Because when I drop him off tomorrow, you’re going to end it with him. You can tell him whatever the fuck you want; you hate him, you can’t deal with the family drama, it’s dealer’s choice, sweetheart. But, Sammy? He belongs with me.”
“No,” Jessica snaps, and Dean’s got to admire her courage. “I won’t, and you can’t make me.”
“You really don’t know anything, do you, sweetheart?” Dean laughs slightly, “Sammy really never told you about who we are.”
“I know everything I need to. I love Sam and he loves me. I don’t care about your family drama,” Jessica shifts in her seat. “If Sam wanted you or your dad as permanent parts of our lives he wouldn’t have avoided you for the last three years.”
“Don’t talk about our family and things you know nothing about, sweetheart,” Dean leans over her, his face only a breath away from hers.
“You’re not Sam’s family,” Jessica seethes, “I am. Me and– and our baby.”
Dean scoffs, surely she’s joking, or trying to manipulate him into thinking that she would now and forever be connected to Sam. “Nice try, sweetheart.”
“In the bedroom,” Jessica offers, “on the bedside table, there’s proof.”
Dean grabs Jessica by the arm, there’s no way he’s going to give her the opportunity to escape. She drags her feet, but doesn’t fight him, and when they make it to the bedroom he pushes her towards the bed. She lands with a soft thud, eyes watering when she hands Dean the wrapped box that he’d seen earlier.
“I was going to tell him when he came home,” Jessica offers as Dean rips open the box. Sure enough, nestled inside is a positive pregnancy test and a card with the words ‘Coming This July,’ with a sonogram photo centered in the middle. “I may not know much about your family, Dean, but I know Sam would never abandon his baby.”
“What makes you think he’ll ever know about it, sweetheart?” Dean’s eyes darken, and he plunges his knife into Jessica’s stomach. Jessica lets out a silent scream as Dean twists the knife in further, before retracting and driving it into her again. Blood plumes around her abdomen, staining the white gown, and he watches intently as her breathing becomes more ragged, before sending the knife through a final time for good measure.
“Believe it or not, sweetheart, this isn’t how I planned on the night going,” Dean wipes a fallen tear from Jessica’s eyes. “But I should’ve known that a slut like you would try to trap my Sammy into some apple-pie life. It’s better this way, you’ll see."
Jessica begins coughing up blood, and Dean knows it won’t be too much longer, he pockets the test and ultrasound photo, noting to get rid of them– Sam can’t know that she was pregnant. If he did– he’d never forgive Dean for dragging him on a case and blame him for her death. He’d lose Sammy for good, and he couldn’t allow that to happen.
“Fuck,” Dean mutters, realizing the mistake he’s made – not ridding himself and Sam of Jessica, that needed to happen – this is now the scene of a murder. He’d let his love, his need for Sammy to be back with him cloud his judgement, and he he didn’t stop to think of where he’d go from here. He and John had seen and worked enough cases for him to know that there would be evidence of him all over the apartment. He could explain any bits of his DNA in the living room, Sam would confirm that he’d been in the living room not three days prior, but the more pressing issue would be what he left inside Jessica, there was no way to explain that away. It wouldn’t take Sam long to put two and two together, and then Dean would lose his brother, for good this time, and he couldn’t have that.
“Well, this is unexpected,” an unfamiliar voice enters the room. “You know, that was supposed to be my job. A little ahead of schedule, but, I guess as long as it got done, boss won’t care,” the guy hovers over Jessica’s dead body. “Never thought a Winchester would beat me to it, though.”
“Who are you?” Dean grunts. If this guy knows who he is – who Sam is – it can’t be anything good.
“Doesn’t matter,” the older man shrugs. “Go back to your brother, I’ll take care of this.”
“Why?” Dean asks, not understanding how or why this stranger would offer to help him.
“We have plans for Sammy,” the man’s eyes flash yellow, “and as long as you and that piece of shit you call a father play your parts. Sammy’s gonna need a shoulder to cry on, and let's face it, you can’t live without him either. Go on, Deanie boy, I’ll take care of this, you’ll have your brother back and I’ll have my– you know what? I’ll keep that one a surprise. See you around, Dean.”
“You killed Jess?” Sam asks, unbelieving of what he’s heard. “Why?”
“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy,” Dean tsks, breaking free of the bonds tying him to the chair. “Weren’t you listening? Your brother couldn’t even imagine life without you. And when that little bitch told him she was knocked up, he knew you’d never leave.”
Sam’s jaw clenches, his face growing redder by the minute. This is where Dean needs Sam; pissed off – so that he can make his escape and finally get away from Sam.
Part 2
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#dean winchester#sam winchester#demon dean#smut#non-con#wincest#dean x jess#sam x jess#jessica moore#angst
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Just let me love you — Five Hargreeves
Request: “Hi. Could you possibly write about Five and reader taking a shower together and he's like so whipped for her and her body and (if it's not much) #38, #18 e #5 from your fluff prompt and #56 and #98 from your smut prompt (maybe not a too rough smut, just they both doing love and realizing how much in love they're with the other). THANK YOU ❤❤❤❤️ (sorry i'm not a native english speaker)”
Fluff prompts:
5. ”Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.”
18. “Enjoying the view, beautiful?”
38. “You say you hate it but your red face is telling me otherwise.”
Smut prompts:
56. “Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.”
98. “Just let me finish this and I swear I will go down on your and make you cum three times.”
A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!
I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.
Thank you, love💖. I did not do anything heavy or gross, it's just a cute love, I hope you like.
English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.
Requests are open. Love you ❤️
Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.
Warnings: explicit smut, swearing, but just cute smut and fluff.
— — — — —
Five Hargreeves was not known for being kind, much less sentimental. He had always been acid, ironic and arrogant, he put himself on a pedestal at levels of intelligence, ability, and always had the last word. Five did not belong to the category of men who were influenced by emotions, nor did snatched up when he saw a beautiful woman. He had always had an iron control by imposing on his feelings, like controlling his own breathing.
Then, being known for this exasperating personality, the uproar was Homeric when, for the first time, Five Hargreeves fell to his knees by a woman. In a deep and abysmal drop.
He was frighteningly in love with you. Body and soul. And the Hargreeves brothers were shocked, to say the least, when they realized all the care Five had for you, all the bright and passionate look, the easy smile whenever you also smiled too. They could see that Five saw you as an exorbitantly rare tropical treasure, something he could never miss.
No one had thought Five was the type who needed something to keep breathing, for his world to keep spinning; an object or a person. But everyone saw that if there was something, it would be you. None of the Hargreeves know how Five became so dependent, so addicted, but they were content with the joyful gleam in their brother's eyes whenever you showed up.
Five Hargreeves was not known for being sentimental, but if you asked him to jump, he’ll aks ‘how right?’.
And perhaps it was because of all this, and more, that after a particularly dangerous mission that yielded some scratches, Five went to your apartment, not to his own home.
“Oh my God!” You exclaimed, throwing the book you were reading on the bed and running to where the blue flash left your boyfriend's figure. Bruised and bloody. “Honey, are you okay?”
As soon as your hands, worried and trembling, touched Five's skin to remove the mask, he let out a low, satisfied sigh, as if your touch was the medicine for all him pains. That mission took the best of him, and Five just needed you, to feel better.
Always you.
“Some terrorists insisted on fighting.” Five rolled his eyes, now without the mask “What is it about these motherfuckers wanting to fight even when they know they are going to lose? It's fucking annoying.”
You laughed softly, your hands still working to remove him suit, tie and unbutton stained shirt.
“I was so worried.” You sighed, scanning every bit of it with agitated eyes, seeing if nothing was out of place or worrying.
“Oh, were you?”
You didn't have to look him in the eye to know that Five gave you a smug expression. The whole voice was charged with malice and arrogance, and you contained a little smile.
“Of course. I always stay when you go on these missions.” You came closer, resting your hands on him abdomen, tilting your lips in the direction of him and giving a small and loving kiss.
Five hummed contentedly, bringing his hands to your hips and giving an annoyed sigh when you walked away, clearly wanting more.
“Let's go to the bath, you need to take all that blood and relax a little.”
“Is this an invitation?” He arched his left eyebrow in a suggestive gesture, with a sly smile and a smug look.
You rolled your eyes and laughed, taking you to the bathroom of your apartment. “Not. You need to relax.”
You opened the bathroom door and turned on the shower, while Five started to undress, the blood dripping on the bathroom floor.
“I was thinking that...” Your sentence was lost in the air when you turned around and found Five completely undress.
You looked down at the blood-spattered neck, the broad shoulders that went down to a broad chest. Him skin was prickly from the cold breeze and the blood that was already drying, giving a sinister and exciting tone to the scene. You swallowed, something starting to vibrate in your core, the atmosphere becoming caustic. But your eyes continued to drop, memorizing every inch of skin, making way to his V line and…
“Enjoying the view, beautiful?”
You looked up into the green eyes, finding a smirk.
“I-I j-jus…” Suddenly, you didn't know what to do with your hands, what to say or how to act.
You had seen Five naked several times, but always... always took your breath away. He was frighteningly gorgeous. That left you with not axis, with the rotation of the Earth stopped, with reason itself running away. It was a sin like him beautiful, the blood droplets spattered on the snow-white skin, attracted you even more.
“No... actually, I'm seeing the blood you're leaving on the floor, you know?” You made up an excuse, blinking assiduously “I hate it.”
But it was only logical that he did not believer. The malicious smile widened and gained an arrogant and convinced touch, while Five approached in calm and dangerous steps, like a hunter to its prey.
Him long fingers touched your cheek, while Five leaned over and whispered in your ear:
“You say you hate it but your red face is telling me otherwise.”
You felt the heat build up in your cheeks even more, you let out a nervous little laugh as you rested both hands on him chest and looked up at his.
“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.” You confessed.
Five laughed, a laugh from one who knows he is beautiful and one who is pleased to please the only person who matters. It was a beautiful, true sound. His touch on your skin became sweeter, and he leaned towards your mouth and captured you in a soft kiss.
This time, it was you who sighed. An involuntary sigh of full satisfaction and delight. As if Five were your oasis in the desert.
You two haven't had that kind of contact in a few days. Five was having missions that demanded a lot of attention and care, and the exam week at your college had arrived. The two of you said on the phone that everything was fine, that you both were going to be fine these days, but the truth was that you missed him so much.
“I missed you.” You sighed on him lips, giving him another chaste kiss just because you could.
“Me too.” Him fingers caressed your cheek, moving away afterwards so you don’t get bloody too.
Suddenly, your whole line of reasoning has so far melted away like sand in the wind, like a broken violin string. You just felt your heart racing, your body heating up and the atmosphere becoming lyrical and stuffy.
“I think...” You sighed, your hands still on him chest. “That this is an invitation yes.” You agreed with his joke from seconds ago.
Hargreeves laughed, shaking his head and leaving a kiss on your neck.
“I was kidding, I don't want you to end up getting soiled with all that blood, too." He pointed to the small blood marks that remained on your cheek because of his touch.
Truth be told, you weren't worried. The longing hit you like a wave that was too strong and dragged you to the sea, drowning you. You wanted to touch it, kiss it, stick to it as if it were able to stop time. Five noticed the feelings in your eyes, and laughed at how you were as addicted to the love of the two of you as he was. Leaning down once more, Five splashed a kiss on your lips:
“Just let me finish this and I swear I will go down on your and make you cum three times.”
You laughed, stunned by a whirlwind of sensation and emotion at the same time. You agreed, and left the bathroom while Five entered the stall.
As soon as you sat on the bed, trying to process your own reactions, the warm autumn night breeze came in through the big window, carrying a caustic expectation on back and hitting you without mercy. Suddenly, everything became flustered, pulsating, the hemisphere seemed more malicious, with a sensual and romantic tone. If you had to describe that moment with the five senses, you would say that the light of the world has gone down to become the flickering flame of a candle, adorning the world with a red veil of romance.
The showering noise and your heartbeat were the only things you could hear. And when the hot mist of steam started to come out of the bathroom door, it was like a mesmerizing invitation, a call you couldn't refuse. You swallowed, noticing that your hands were shaking softly, as if this were your first time. But your whole body and soul screamed for him name. As the only antidote to your disease.
You stood up, pulled your T-shirt over your head, and got rid of your bra and sleeping shorts, taking your panties to the floor as well. Puffing out the chest of something you didn't know what it was, you went to the bathroom door again, opening it gently. The masculine silhouette blurred by the glass in the shower stoked your heartbeat even more, and suddenly you were burning with a caustic and delicious expectation.
When you opened the glass door and stepped into the shower, Five opened his eyes wider at your presence. There had been no need for condescending and malicious words, phrases or smiles. Five's eyes burned in the same desire and need as you, as if he were burning in the same hell. He looked at you as if he had waited all his life for that moment, as if he had cried out for you and you appeared to him, like a muse in the middle of a wild night.
Five held your face with both hands, leaning over and kissing you with all the devotion in the world. At that moment, the world seemed to have reached its highest note, its climax. You put your arms around him neck, sighing a low moan of satisfaction when he pulled you closer, sticking your whole body in his, being hit by the hot water in the bath.
Five Hargreeves was not known for being sentimental. But, in that second, he kissed you and touched you with all the affection and love that existed in the world. He didn't run, he didn't hurry, he didn't eat you like if last meal. No, he slowly ran his hands over your body, letting his tongue caress yours, enveloped in all the longing and love he felt for you.
You let out a sigh much like him name and a plea, more in need than ever. Five dropped his hands to your thighs, propelling you upwards and making you hook your legs on him hips, being held in him lap.
“I missed you.” Five released it in your mouth, seeking air as turned the two of you around, trapping your body between the wall and his body, kissing you again, giving you no time to respond.
You gasped, pressing your fingers to the black strands at the nape of his neck, wiggling hip gently over him, looking for any friction, any stimulation. But Five was as needy as you are, as needy, so he dropped a hand to him own member and positioned it at the entrance to your dripping center.
At that moment, you looked up at him, and Five fixed the green orbs on you, maintaining intense and fiery eye contact. The second he entered you, and you opened your mouth in a silent, aching groan, Five was still nailed to you, and him expression of pleasure when he hit rock bottom was exorbitantly exciting for you. Five clasped his hands on your hips, pursing his lips and frowning at the pleasure he felt, which reverberated through his veins, making him feel infinitely more alive, more intense. He withdrew and sank again, slowly, eliciting a loud moan in you.
“I love you.” You sighed on him lips, and that was the end for Five.
Everything hit Five in a fierce wave. All desire, passion, pleasure and love. Everything smashed under him with such force that Five wrapped his arms around your waist, steadying himself on you as he sank deeper into your hot and wet core, establishing a slow and intense rhythm. You moaned, gasped and sighed loudly, and Five buried his face in the curve of your neck, beating his own hot moans against your skin.
“God, I love you so fucking much!” He groaned, speeding up his movements even more, delighting in how you felt so good, so perfect. So of him.
You screamed his name softly, squeezing him and moving your hips more at the same pace, swallowing his member as much as you could, pulsing around him. Five let out a loud, broken groan, pinning your shoulder against his teeth, trying to stifle groans as he came in and out of you.
Jesus Christ! You were so tight, so wet, so hot and so fucking fucked up. So perfect for him.
Five removed his face from your neck, pulling head back just far enough to look at your body, with a louder groan escaping at the sight he had. You were fucking beautiful! All the curves in the right places, all the wonderful softness of a woman. Another moan escaped, and his eyes fell to the place where him dick disappeared between your smooth folds, leaving and entering more and more luscious, wetter, more swollen with desire and pleasure.
He wasn't going to wait long. Not with so much time without you, not with how much you were fucking hot, not with the overwhelming pleasure he felt. Five tilted his mouth to your breast, capturing a nipple and sucking, keeping his mouth there while hitting that place that drove you the most crazy.
"F-five!"
You groaned, arching your back to him, your legs closing more around hin waist, your chest rising and falling openly, as the hot water cascaded over you two.
“You are so, so much beautiful!” He groaned against your breast, as if in pain, as if everything was too much for him and he felt he could explode.
His suffering tone and totally submerged in pleasure took you to the limit. You came intensely, throwing your head back and arching your body in him arms, letting out a louder cry as you felt Five's hot liquid fill your walls, stocking both of you as deep as possible inside you.
“I love you, I love you.” You stuck your mouth to his, sighing.
Still breathless, Five admitted: “I'm going to marry you someday.”
You opened a smile that Five considered the most wonderful and beautiful thing he has ever seen.
“Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.” He said and you laughed out loud, pulling Five into a passionate kiss.
#five hargreeves#five hargreeves x reader#the umbrella academy#five hargreeves x you#five x you#five hargreeves imagine#five hargreeves smut#five x reader#five fanfiction#five x y/n#number 5 imagine#number 5 x reader#number 5 x you#number five x you#number five fanfic#number five x reader#number five x y/n#the umbrella academy imagine#tua fanfic#tua five#number five#the umbrella academy smut#number 5#number five smut#tua smut
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Hidden Hunter
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Crowley x Reader
Summary: Crowley is your best friend, has been for years and taught you a lot of what you know. However, you aren't associated with the boys.
Warnings: mention of injury and stitches, slow burn, hint at death, I could be missing some, I am not perfect please read at your own risk
A/N: I loved this fic, I hope you guys do too! Oh! And a favor I ask of you. The more I write the more I worry about warnings. If you ever see anything I write not have a warning it should, please tell me.
You pulled into your motel, harshly parking your car and storming into your room. Muttering to yourself as you slid your shirt off, door barely slamming shut, "Stupid motherfuckers couldn't just listen. Couldn't just-" you let out a guttural scream, "I tried. I tried." You shook your head, unbuttoning your pants as you heard Crowley behind you, "Hello, Mouse." You slipped your pants off, turning to look at Crowley, not missing the way his eyes studied the curves of your body. "Hey, Crowley."
Crowley took in your ragged and bloody appearance. Dried blood scattered throughout your hair, on your arms, tiny nicks and cuts over your body with a nasty gash on your torso. Crowley's eyebrows raised and he spoke as you went into the bathroom turning on the shower, "I guess they didn't take the deal?" You poked your head out of the bathroom, glaring at him, "No, they didn't captain obvious." Crowley laughed, sitting on the bed as you took a quick shower.
You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to get the blood out without stretching too far so you didn't irritate the gash on your stomach. You stepped out of the shower, washing all of the grime off of you made you feel a little better. "I hate hunting," you muttered to Crowley as you walked out of the bathroom, hair draped over your neck and a towel wrapped tightly around you. "Would you please get me a pair of shorts, a tank top and a pair of underwear out of my bag?" Crowley smiled at you, already on his way to your bag, "Of course, love."
You stood there looking at Crowley as he ruffled through your bag. His suit clinging to all the right spots, curling around his biceps, tight around his thighs, unfortunately his ass covered by the length of his jacket, shoes nicely completing his look.
You'd met Crowley a few years back, when he was a lowly cross roads demon. You went to make a deal, planning to exchange your soul for the ability to track supernatural creatures so you could save them. Crowley took an interest in why you wanted to do such things. Realizing that you were a hunter that wanted to stop the deaths before they happen was important to you. Stop the needless death of humans and monsters alike.
You'd become close to him, allowing him to teach you the ways of the natural witch. After about a year you had learned enough that Crowley needed to come up with some other reason to stick around. So he started to offer his help with no strings attached as he took a liking to his little mouse. The hunter who only hunted those who hunt.
Crowley handed you the clothing, politely turning around before you dropped your towel. You slid your underwear on, groaning as you did so, causing Crowley too start to turn around. He stopped himself, asking permission first, "Let me help, yeah mouse?" You giggled, covering your boobs and huffing, "Yeah okay."
Crowley turned around, helping you step into the shorts and pulling them up, he handed you the towel to properly cover yourself on his way up. What a gentleman, you thought as he went over to your bag, digging out the emergency kit. "Lay, you need stitches," Crowley pointed to bed. You grumbled, he knew you didn't like stitches, "It's not even that bad, it's fine." Crowley glared at you, "Love, if you don't stitch that it's gonna take months to heal and likely get infected."
You laughed, laying down, "I could always just use a spell." Crowley shook his head, his playfulness with his best friend suddenly gone, "We've discussed that Y/n, it's not the kind of magic you want too mess around with." You put his hand on his arm, as he wet the rag he had with alcohol, in an attempt to comfort him, "I was just kidding, I know."
Crowley started cleaning the gash, making sure that you had gotten all the debris out. You hissed at him, you could see how curious he was, but you'd made a rule that he doesn't press hard unless it's bad. "So," you croaked out as he started stitching you, "what'd you do today?" Crowley smiled at you, secretly bashing you because if you'd just listen to him and find partners it wouldn't be like this.
"Well, I saw moose and squirrel-" You lifted your head, excited, "Sam and Dean?" He nodded, "Yes the royal pains in my ass. They were having trouble tracking some witch-" You giggled, "I could've helped them instead." Crowley tries to hide his genuine concern by joking, "Oh no doll, I don't think we'll be doing that." You furrowed your brows, "I still think we'd make a good team."
"Mouse, I don't ask for much," Crowley sighed, "if you want partners, I can find plenty of hunters that are not Winchesters." Crowley put gauze over your stitches, carefully pressing tape to hold them in place. You sat up, Crowley turning around to let you slip your tank top on, "Decent," he turned back around, "what is your problem? I never like other people enough to let them join me, but when I hear about someone you say no?"
Crowley sighed, "They're dangerous people, Y/n. I've told you I don't want you near them." You stared at him, "I just don't understand, you always tell me they're dangerous and I can't go near them but nothing else!" You stood up, starting to pace. "They're-huff-" Crowley looked away from you, closing his eyes tightly as they flashed with anger, "they'll do nothing but destroy you." With that Crowley was gone. You were used to your arguments ending like that, even your conversations. He would get called away and come back when he wasn't busy and that was fine, but you were going to look into the Winchesters while you had the chance.
You pulled out a map of the United States, channeling through your pendulum Crowley had hand made for you. You smiled, looking at the chain on one end a sharp pointed crystal rested, on the there a tiny little metal mouse, identifying it as yours, the only one on the planet like it. You took a deep breath, circling the crystal over the map focusing your energy on the image of the Winchester brothers. After a few minutes of scrying and finding nothing you decided to leave it for now, starting to pack up your things you began thinking about what was so bad about the Winchester brothers. Why did Crowley want you to stay away?
You didn't really know much about them aside from the little Crowley'd told you because you didn't really associate with other hunters. At the end of the day, you hated most of them. Hunters in general were crass, and you hated that. You are a ray of sunshine trying to preserve life and most hunters see something not human and kill it. That didn't sit right with you.
You thought about the things you did know about the brothers. They had been in this life their whole life. Had lost both parents, almost ended the world a couples times, saved it just as much if not more. Only really had each other, but Crowley had mentioned an angel on their shoulder-Castiel I believe? What did you even know about him?
"I don't believe I know you?" Your entire body went cold, turning as fast as you can to aim a gun in between his eyes. "That will do little damage to me," he spoke flatly. "I beg to differ, these here special made bullets to put your ass in back in hell, so tell me? What're you doing here?" The man is staring at you, confusion in his brows, arms by the edges of his trench coat, pants and shirt tidy, but not perfect, "I am Castiel, an angel of the lord. You called to me." Before you could even think of a response, Crowley was standing next to you. Eyes holding fear, not ager, he speaks lowly, a whisper under his breath.
"What have you done little mouse?"
You lowered your gun, not sure if it was because it wouldn't do damage or because you felt safe with Crowley there. "I didn't call to anybody," you stare at Castiel, eyes boring into his as he speaks. "I beg to differ, I felt you, heard you, you seem to also need dealings with the Winchesters?" He looked to Crowley who he'd just seen not hours ago, "I am slightly concerned with Crowley being here." Crowley scoffed, "I haven't tried anything on the musketeers in years, I've been nothing but a friend and Y/n here was too curious for her own good." He growled out the end looking directly towards you, causing a rush guilt for going behind Crowleys back.
"I didn't mean to take you away from the Winchesters-" "You did not. I am a man of many abilities, helping people is one of them. At least allow me to heal you." You backed away as he stepped forward, "I am not going to hurt you." Crowley put his hand on your arm, trying to reassure you, "Well do it then Feathers, but uh-" Castiel healed you, you felt warmth, pain dissolving from your body, "can we keep her to ourselves?" Your eyes raised at Crowley, appalled by his gumption to hide you.
"Excuse me?" You jerked away from Crowley, Castiel raising his eyebrows at you. "Is that what you would like Y/n?" You looked at Crowley, his face a mix of anger and concern. "Can we? I promise I won't bother you." Castiel smiles at you, secretly reading you, "You wouldn't be a bother but I understand. I am happy to have healed you." Castiel was gone, Crowley already starting to pick your bags up. "We're gone now mouse."
He grabbed you, whisking you away. You looked around, taking in the room you were standing in. It was clearly an apartment, a nicer than you'd ever known anyone to have. You looked around, a sleek kitchen area, the bathroom door opened from the living room, the couch took up most of the living room, a nice coffee table in front of it but pressed to the wall.
"Crowley where are we?" He was glaring at you, a sour look on his face, "A safe house, I hoped we'd never have to use it." You shook your head, "Okay, but where? What about my car?" He shuffled on his feet, "In a few days when I know Castiel didn't spill the beans about you I will take you back to it." Crowley chuckled a little, but not answering as he reached out your bags for you to take. You huffed, taking your bags from him, and then he disappeared.
You walked over to the refrigerator, to your surprise it was stocked. Demons don't need to eat, you thought to yourself, a little confused and trying to figure out where you were, you moved to the window. You looked out and you couldn't have been but three stories up, but no markers as to your city or state. The bathroom was also stocked shampoo, conditioner, soap, toilet paper, toothbrush and toothpaste?
Crowley reappeared, holding the rest of your things and your gun. You took it from him, anger over your features. "Crowley, are we in someone's apartment right now? You know how I feel about how you taking over peoples lives!" Crowley scoffed at you, "You know I respect you too much to violate your beliefs like that!" You rolled your eyes, tucking your gun behind your waistband, "Then who's apartment is this?"
Crowley made his was over to the cabinet, pulling out a bottle of liquor he conveniently knew where to find, "Technically yours. Like I said it's a safe house." You tapped the counter, letting him know you wanted a glass as you sat down, "Gonna have to do better than that." He poured your glass first, shrugging he started, "I pay for it, it's under a fake name, it's warded so you can't be found, do we need to get into logistics?" You downed your glass, picking up the bottle and filling up again, "You brought me here after I met Castiel, that's not exactly safe house worthy." Crowley shook his head, sipping on his own glass, "Yes it is cricket, yet it is." Your blood started to boil, you stood from your chair, seething with anger, you spit, "Crowley, if you don't stop acting like-"
"Like what? Like someone who wants to keep you alive?" You flinched at Crowleys words, waiting for him to continue, "Everyone that they're around dies, Y/n, dies. Hunter funeral, pile of ash, dies. Everyone but them; they will destroy you." You scoffed, "I'm pretty good at keeping myself alive thank you." He raises his eyebrows, smirking a bit, "Do you forget how we met mouse?" Your eyes connected with his, glaring, still seething with anger, "I was desperate not dead, there's a difference. Crowley, they can't be doing more damage than me hunting on my own. Maybe I could be a voice of reason-" Crowley slammed his glass down, grabbing the counter with both hands, "No! I don't know why you even want to know them!"
You studied Crowley, jealousy now seeping from him. Then it clicked. It clicked that you two were a bunch of shy kids. Bouncing around each other like you were fifteen for years now. Each thinking the other was uninterested, each thinking that you didn't deserve one another. Crowley rightfully so for a while, the things he did outside of you could be classified as horrendous, but your ray of sunshine had spread to him. Bringing out all of the good parts that once was Fergus Roderick MacLeod, reminding him of who he could be. You reminded him how to love, how to hold someone higher than yourself. Reminded him of what it's like to protect someone other than yourself, to need to.
"Crowley," you walked around the table and placed your hand on his, "please just tell me what's going on." Crowley didn't hesitate, he turned to you pressing his lips into yours. It took you a second to realize what was happening, and then you melted. You moved your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss, his stubble tickling you. Crowley tangled his fingers in your hair, taking a deep breath as he readjusted to meet your lips, tongue skirting your bottom lip before nibbling on it. You gasped at the action, the sound taking Crowley by surprise as he continued to glide across your lips, not missing the warm blush on your face.
Crowley was first to pull away, sliding his hand out of your hair and tucking it behind your ear, resting his hand there, he whispered, "I can't lose you." You planted a chaste kiss on his lips, smiling at him reassuringly, "You won't." He softened a little bit, sighing heavily before returning his lips to yours. Soft and gentle, savoring the moment as he tugged you closer to him with his arm around your waist. You pulled just an inch away, Crowleys eyes opening and making contact with yours, "Does this mean I get to meet the Winchesters?" Crowley growled at you, quickly lifting you by your thighs causing your to wrap your legs around him, "Absolutely not."
#supernatural fluff#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fanfiction#spn flangst#spn fluff#spn angst#spn fanfiction#crowley x reader#crowley x y/n#crowley fluff#crowley angst#crowley fanfiction#Crowley imagine#crowley fic#Crowley one shot#crowley Drabble
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17 year olds don’t make good decisions
Summary: it's exactly as the title suggests. On Nico's 17th birthday, he decides to do exactly as the title suggests and ends up visiting his boyfriend at the infirmary.
A/N: THIS WAS INSPIRED BY @rainnows and @daughter-of-sunshine from this post. ALSO SHOUT OUT TO @marbleheavy WHO CHEERED ME UP WHEN I WAS TALKING ABOUT BEING SAD ON BATHROOM FLOORS. Thank you @solangeloweek for this fun challenge! I actually managed to complete it without burning out halfway unlike with writers month which I PROMISE will be finishing. It feels super cool to tag people as if I had a tag list. Anyhow, hope yall enjoy the final day in will solace's bday week and comment! <3 from Persephone.
Read on AO3 Masterlist.
Perhaps trying to give himself a lip piercing all by himself in the solitude of the Hades Cabin was not the best idea. That said, Nico was trying to celebrate his 17th birthday and he had been looking forward to getting a lip ring that he had seen Thalia wear recently and of course, Nico was impressed.
But Nico was even more impressed when Thalia had told him that she had pierced her lip herself like a badass motherfucker. At the time of course, Nico's first thought was wondering whether the hunters of Artemis had a dress code and if so- were piercings included? (Because he knew that Apollo would definitely want in on that.)
But now, as he held his bleeding lip which dripped over his fingers and pulled out the metal needle which had come in the packaging, he realised that just perhaps this wasn't a great deal. He grabbed some tissues and held them to his lips in the hope that the applied pressure would at least stop the big gush of blood but after several impatient minutes of doing so, he began to slightly panic.
Why hadn’t the bleeding stopped? Did he hit a blood vessel? Obviously he must have since he was bleeding! Was it veins or arteries that were super dangerous? God, why was blood so red? And why did this hurt so damn badly- he’s been stabbed for goodness sake! He was a soldier and it was a boo boo lip that was getting to him?
He rushed to the infirmary in panic- he doubted many people would see him and he deeply cared about his lips; afterall, how else would he kiss Will?
“Why are you holding that to your mouth?” Will asked when he saw his boyfriend walk through the infirmary doors. “ You’re not meant to eat tissues. If you were hungry, you should have bought a happy meal.”
Nico, who was still bleeding profusely into the tissue, turned it around so Will could; see his blood stained face and almost ripped lip.
“It won’t stop bleeding,” Nico managed to whine out in pain.
“What did you do?!” Will shouted in horror.
“I DON’T KNOW, YOU’RE THE DOCTOR!”
“I’M A HEALER, NOT A DOCTOR!” Will, truly panicking, screamed back. The two stared at each other, eyes wide open and finally, Will realised that while Nico was a soldier, he wasn't a healer. Sure- he inflicted injuries but he didn't fix them. In other words, Nico was completely clueless.
Will repeated the question, this time with a calmer tone. “What did you do?”
He changed his gloves and sat Nico down so he could have a look.
“I shwied oo iercee my wip,” Nico tried to speak as Will held his mouth open, taking a glance at the bottom of his lip.
“Sooo?” Nico said once again, over exaggeratedly as his boyfriend prepared to clean the wound.
“There’s a hole in your lip.” Will said, without a fraction of surprise as he began to clean the wound, lightly dabbing the soaked cotton ball at the injury.
“Ouuchh,” Nico tried to move away, but Will - in a very threatening manner- stopped him with a manic gleam in his eye that read No <3.
The two sat there as Will managed to stop the immense bleeding. Quite luckily for Nico’s reputation, there weren’t many people in the infirmary that specific evening and therefore, it was only Will and a couple of other healers- who weren’t scared of Nico but let him think so- who knew of the accident.
“Why did you even want to get your lip pierced in the first place?” Will umbled as he began to clean up.
“Because.”
“Because what?”
Nico replied in innocent honesty. “ It’s cool.”
Will choked at the simplicity of the answer. “Because it’s cool?”
Nico, similar to a puppy, nodded with eager delight. Sure, his lip piercing had not gone the way he had wanted and it was a shame that he’d have to wait for his lip to heal so that could try again but in the end- his lips still seemed to be working.
“Let me get this straight,” Will paused, “ You got a lip piercing, you willingly attempted to put a hole through the flesh of your lip because you thought it looked cool?”
“No,2 Nico huffed slightly. “Also you can’t get anything straight.”
Will sighed, “ And you’re about to make a gay joke to hide your own religious truama, aren’t you.”
“Oi!” Nico cried. “ No fair! You don’t get to ruin the punchline of my joke and expose my psychological trauma!”
Will gave a small chuckle to himself as he finished cleaning up and Nico patiently- which was relatively surprising- waited on the bed. He moved his fingers to gently prod his lip where the injury had occurred a while ago, a bit surprised to feel the flesh there to be swollen and burning hot to the touch.
“Willll,” Nico complained. “ My lip is puffy.”
The blond healer scoffed in response. “ That’s what you get for trying to pierce your lip by yourself.”
“But Thalia did it by herself and it looks so cool!”
“Is that what this is about?” Will turned around suddenly. “ Because Thalia told you about her lip piercing.”
Nico folded his arms looking away slightly. “ She didn’t just tell me, she was wearing her lip piercing and I for one think it looks awesome.”
“Yeah, I can really tell from the state of your lip,” Will laughed dryly.
“You’re being meaner than usual, sun boy.”
“You’re being stupider than usual death boy.”
“See!”
“I think I'm allowed to be a bit annoyed at the stupid attempt you made ot pierce your own lip without the aid of anyone else- or at least your boyfriend-, who, might I add, is a healer!”
“So I’m meant to be running to you every time I might have a problem and supposedly need some help with it?”
“Yes!”
Nico, ready to retort back an ‘I thought so”, paused. “Oh.”
The infirmary fell silent as they both stood staring at each other while the sun set behind=d them in the background. Will’s skin glowed under the light and Nico’s eyes glinted. They stared at each other and suddenly within a beat all the tension in the room rushed out and they both started laughing at one another. Suddenly a tall, black haired boy scrambled into the infirmary with mischief written all over his gleeful face.
“So?” Percy painted. “Did you actually try and do the piercing?”
To say the least, Will demanded an explanation.
#will solace#will solace bday week#will solace fanfic#Nico Di Angelo#Nico Di Angelo fanfic#solangelo#solangelo fanfic#solangelo fluff#will x Nico#Nico x will#will solace fluff#Nico Di Angelo fluff#percy jackson#Percy jackson fanfic#Percy jackson#Thalia grace#Thalia grace mention#Nico x will fluff#will x Nico fluff
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The Proposal Part 12
Jensen Ackles x Reader
Story Summary: Jensen needs help keeping his life in order. To keep the media off his back. In order to do so, he comes up with a plan. Y/N, just a producer’s assistant, is pulled in to play a part she never thought she would have. Jensen’s fiancee. Only will it stay as a part to play, or will she start to want more?
Catch Up Here: Masterpost
The party was the least of your worries. As soon as you left the offices, Jensen was pulling you to the side. “I have a short filming schedule today. Why don’t we get your stuff packed up and bring it on over to my place? We can have dinner brought in. Maybe talk about what needs to happen first.”
“I’m not sure I can leave early,” you argued. You didn’t want to sound argumentative, but you weren’t the star. You were just a personal assistant that could be replaced in an instant. Leaving early wasn’t always an option for you, no matter if you wanted to or not.
“Leave that to me,” he winked one of those gorgeous green eyes your way. Which made you notice the blood covering his eyebrow and temple. And while that would have worried anyone else, you had to remind yourself it was just makeup. He was taking a break from playing Dean Winchester, the hottest monster hunter you had ever seen.
Squeezing your shoulder as he passed, he headed straight for the offices you had just vacated while you forced yourself to keep moving. Past the trailers to the food tent. Pouring yourself a cup of coffee and grabbing a muffin, you sat down at one of the picnic tables, taking a deep breath. Sipping at your coffee, you knew you only had moments before you would be pulled back to work.
“You seem frazzled,” Ruth sank down across from, a steaming cup of tea in her hand. “Need an ear?”
“You’ve already done so much,” you started to say but she waved it off. “I just feel really in over my head right now. I’m barely staying afloat, and I fear things are just going to get worse.”
“What is it now? I thought the weekend in Texas had gone smoothly.”
Picking at the muffin, you were surprised at how close to tears you were. It wasn’t that you were that upset. But things kept getting piled up on your shoulders and you felt as if you might crack. “It did. His family was nice, and he was very understanding. But now he wants me to move in with him. Today actually. And Jim is already planning a fancy engagement party up here. Warning me that I need to be on my best behavior. I don’t want to do another party. Especially with all the office big shots. And he’s inviting media. I’m not used to being in front of them. What if I disappoint Jensen?”
She squeezed my hand just as one of the producers came into the tent, motioning for me to move on. “Dearie, you won’t disappoint him. Just be yourself, and let those buffoons in suits fall in love with you.”
You smiled at her before making your way back to set, seeing the disapproving glares of the fellow assistants. They had already heard the news, and it seemed as if you were being judged by them as well.
“Y/N, we need you over there,” the producer ordered. “You need to clean up all that glass.”
There was fake glass everywhere. Sam and Dean were being pushed through a window, and of course, it had to be cleaned up after every shot.
“Unless she thinks she’s too good for that now,” one of the other assistants muttered loud enough for you to hear. “Throwing herself at the actors, spreading her legs just to get some media notice. I bet Jensen’s just using her.”
The words stung, but you didn’t want to draw attention to yourself by retorting. Ignoring them, you began sweeping up the glass just as Jensen and Jared came back in. Jensen waved at you as did Jared, and you ducked your head, not wanting any other nasty comments coming your way.
Jensen came striding over. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just some jealous people making their thoughts known.”
He frowned. “I wish you didn’t have to go through that. If there’s anything I could do…,”
You shook your head. Anything he would do now would only add fuel to the fire. “But I did talk to Jim, and we’re both leaving at 2. I’ll drive you to your apartment, and we can gather some stuff up today, pick up the rest another day. Sound good?”
“Yeah.”
He headed back to his chair just as the director set up the shot and you stepped to the side, working hard to get the props set up in order that they would need them. Keeping to yourself, you listened as Jensen and Jared rolled through their lines with ease, laughing when there was a pause in filming.
“Hey Y/N,” Janelle whispered as she brought over some extra blood in case they needed a touch-up. “Why didn’t you let me know about you and Jensen? That’s some juicy gossip I would have loved to hear about.”
“We were keeping it a surprise,” you whispered back. “The office is trying to control things.”
“Watch your back,” she warned. “Those girls are jealous.”
Filming was wrapped only five minutes later, and Jensen came jogging over to you. “Ready to go?”
Nodding, you were surprised when he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you against him and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “Y/N and I have a busy night planned. See everyone tomorrow!” He called over his shoulder.
You were sure the other girls were just seething, but you couldn’t care. You loved the feeling of his lips against yours. It had been a nice surprise. He ducked into his trailer, changing into street clothes, joining you not even five minutes later. There was still a slight smudge of fake blood on his temple, and you reached up, brushing it away.
“We’re taking Cliff’s SUV. It should be large enough to haul most of your stuff. Then you get to pick dinner tonight, okay?”
“Sounds great,” you answered, slightly nervous at spending so much time with Jensen. Alone. In your apartment, and then his. A man that you wished would just kiss you once again.
Read Chapter 13
Dean/Jensen tags: @acortez82 @acreativelydifferentlove @adoptdontshoppets @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278 @bi-danvers0 @cap-just-said-language @colette2537 @deansgirl215 @flamencodiva @hamiltrash1411 @its-not-a-tulpa @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @justanotherwinchester @just-another-winchester @karouwinchester @keikoraventeller @krys198478 @librarygeekery @magssteenkamp @misspygmypie @mlovesstories @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @mrspeacem1nusone @nothinbuttrouble2 @ria132love @ruprecht0420 @screechingartisancashbailiff @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @squirrelnotsam @team-free-will-you-idjiot @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @thoughts-and-funnies @torn-and-frayed @tricksterdean @wonderfulworldofwinchester @woodworthti666 @beabutterfly987 @pink-sparkly-witch @sexyvixen7
the Proposal Tags: @supraveng @vicmc624 @lottieellz101 @impala-dreamer @maddiepants @emilyshurley @tonystark-makes-me-cry @starryeyeseunbyul @rach-12 @spnfamily-j2 @ima-be-a-mongoose @flamencodiva @compresshischest09 @parinarain @stoneyggirl @tftumblin @massivelycreepypineapple @posiemax @traceyaudette @peacedolantwins2 @eliwinchester99 @deans-baby-momma @aiofheavenandhell @athenamikaelson @samsgirl93 @meowmeow-motherfucker @chevyimpala00067 @metalfangirl @alwaysananglophile
Forever Tags: @aditimukul @alexwinchester23 @algudaodoce03-blog @amanda-teaches @andreaaalove @artisticpoet @atc74 @be-amaziing @camelotandastronauts @caswinchester2000 @cpag7 @chelsea072498 @closetspngirl @deanwanddamons @docharleythegeekqueen @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @esoltis280 @tatted-trina6 @foxyjwls007 @gh0stgurl @goldenolaf25 @growningupgeek @heartislubbingdubbing @heyitscam99 @hobby27 @horsegirly99blog @imsuperawkward @internationalmusicteacher @iwriteaboutdean @jayankles @jensen-gal @justsomedreaming @just-another-busyfangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @linki-locks11 @littleblue5mcdork @lowlyapprentice @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @mogaruke @monkeymcpoopoo @musiclovinchic93 @nanie5 @percussiongirl2017 @plaid-lover-bay25 @roonyxx @ronja-uebrick @roxyspearing @samanddeanmyheroes @sandlee44 @shamelesslydean @simonsbluee @sillesworldofwriting @sgarrett49 @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnwoman @superbadassnatural @thatcrazybookwormgeek @thewinchesterchronicles @valsworldofcreativity @vvinch3st3r @whimsicalrobots @winchester-writes @zombiewerewolfqueen
#the proposal#jensen ackles x reader#supernatural x reader#supernatural reader insert#katy writes#spn fanfic#jensen ackles#y/n
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Dead Man’s Tale
“Long, short, they all end the same way.” --Katabasis
Type: Scout Rifle
Slot: Kinetic | Energy | Heavy
Element: Kinetic | Stasis | Strand
Perk: Cranial Spike - Chaining precision hits grants bonus damage and quickens reload speed.
Trait: Transformative - Future drops of this weapon will have random rolls.
Masterworked Trait: Dark-Forged Trigger - Removes hipfire penalties.
Ornaments: Burial Wrap, Remembrance, Dead Man's Revenge, Noble Burden
Origin & Description: Katabasis: the descent. Katabasis is the going-down, the journey to the underworld, the fall from paradise into cruel reality. Katabasis is the dead man, and he's got one hell of a tale.
Guardians don't have to listen to the Vanguard. In fact a lot of them don't. One of the ones who didn't was the Hunter Katabasis and his Ghost Gilgamesh. Disillusioned when the Traveler stood by as the City burned during the Red War, the pair listened when Emperor Calus offered glory and riches to Guardians who might rally to his banner. Hey, remember Calus? The hedonistic Cabal ex-Emperor madman lounging aboard his prison-turned-pleasure barge Leviathan, indulging in delirious celebration of the end coming on the points of the knife-edged fleet he saw at our galaxy's edge? Remember how he proclaimed himself the Darkness' herald, prophet of the world's doom? How's he doing now that that end has literally arrived? Darkness is here, the Pyramids hang in the sky in much the same way that bricks don't, and Calus and Leviathan disappeared along with the four worlds Darkness swallowed up. And now that we know what he was up to just after said worlds were swallowed, I hope that motherfucker stays gone.
When "the end is nigh" became "now," Calus at first waited for Darkness to present itself before him, as it must surely do for its most faithful herald…but it didn't. No matter, he decided. This must be a test of his might. He went about figuring out how to speak with it, which meant figuring out who to try speaking with in the first place. While the Traveler seems to represent a singular avatar/representation of Light, the Pyramids are some kind of group manifestation of Darkness and have no individual representative that we know of (though we did meet something face-to-borrowed-face in the Black Garden). Darkness whispers to many, including us, but as far as we know only three entities have ever faced it directly, and of those three only Oryx truly conversed with it through the vessel of an unborn ogre. Calus, like Oryx before him, would need to create a proxy for the Dark.
He selected as the medium for this conversation the Scorn, since the Dark-tainted Ether coursing through those reanimated husks made them receptive to its words while their own rotted minds left them an empty vessel for its influence. Cabal Psions have powerful mental abilities of metaconcert and communion that he commanded them to use to fuse Scorn into a hivemind strong enough to make a connection. Then he planned to use the Crown of Sorrow, a captured Hive artifact that linked the wearer's thoughts to others (an artifact he decided to test, by the way, by cloning a new random Cabal and then plunking the Crown on its head, creating a big mess we had to clean up in the Crown of Sorrow raid.) The Psions would link up the Scorn hivemind, Calus would wear the Crown, and he'd use the Scorn as his phone line to make a collect call to 1-800-DARKNES.
Not being completely stupid, Calus isolated these experiments on the stolen Legion carrier Glykon (named for a minor Roman snake god whom the ancient Greek satirist Lucian claimed was a con), parked above the yawning abyss that used to be Mars. He moved in the Psion scientist Qinziq, the Guardian Katabasis*, and a bunch of bizarre equipment, and set them to work. Now space-Rome wasn't built in a space-day, and dead corrupted hivemind consciousnesses take time and work (disgusting, disgusting work) to assemble. Katabasis spent weeks trapping and herding Scorn onto transports back to Glykon, where they were caged and subjected to some pretty horrible experiments, even for creatures that are basically zombie husks.
*In one of my favorite environmental details ever, when you find Katabasis' abandoned jumpship in Glykon's hangar, it's the real in-game model of The Emperor's Chosen. It's a player-obtainable ship that comes from running a lot of Calus' seasonal Menagerie activity; in other words, it's the ship of someone who's spent quite a bit of time aboard Leviathan.
Qinziq drowned the ever-reanimating Scorn in their Dark Ether to strengthen their link to Darkness and figured out how to slot someone else in the place where the Barons had once commanded them. When she thought she had enough hooked up, she signaled Calus. Glykon hovered above the edge of the Mars anomaly as Calus came aboard in a gilded procession bearing the Crown. Psions forced the Scorn into metaconcert, then subsumed them into the Crown. Even Katabasis was summoned to witness the attempt so that his Light might additionally entice the Dark to them. Calus donned the Crown. And Glykon dove.
And failed. Calus' plan worked in that through the Crown he yoked the Scorn's prepared minds and inhabited their senses the same way he's been dividing his consciousness across his robot proxies, but even though they reached the very edge of the Mars anomaly, Calus' words fell into nothing. Darkness didn't see him back. Furious, Calus tore apart the failed Scorn himself; but then he thought he detected something else, something different from the Pyramids' attention: an Observer. An Entity. A Voice of Darkness that embodied it the same way the Traveler embodied Light*. That tantalizing glimpse motivated him to keep trying, to everyone else's regret. Glykon hadn't entered the anomaly, but the attempt had changed it. The Scorn went into a perpetual frenzy, breaking loose again and again to kill whatever they found. Strange fungus began to infest the ship, its slender, flower-like spore stalks resembling the Sarcophilus ("flesh-lover") fungus that grows aboard the Drifter's Derelict crossed with the psychoactive Royal Nectar plants from Leviathan. Cabal ensnared by it fell into comatose eternity, their minds swallowed up. Still Calus hammered on.
*If Calus is right about Darkness having an avatar like the Traveler, we need to revise a lot of what we thought we knew about it.
The whole build-a-Scorn-hivemind-to-channel-Darkness plan is one of those projects where the only prospect worse than failing is succeeding, and eventually Calus succeeded. After many more failed attempts he donned the crown, Glykon dove, and this time it finally pierced the anomaly's barrier. Space warped around them, the Scorn amalgamated into a single Locus of Communion, Calus gazed once again upon the Darkness, and the ship hurtled through into…Nothing. Nothing at all.
And Calus was gone. Glykon, unfortunately, wasn't. The emperor in whatever apotheosis had swallowed him had left the carrier behind in absolute Nothing. The Scorn tore loose and rampaged through the ship, whose crew had no way to escape, to signal for help, even to go outside. Katabasis himself sent distress signals pleading for rescue, offering his prize rifle to any Guardian who'd brave the Scorn to find him and his Ghost, but no one received them. Gravity waves pulsed through the Nothing, rearranging the ship's geometry in impossible ways and reanimating any Scorn that hadn't been incinerated. The crew fought back, tried their best to cut the connection and return Glykon to normal space, but one by one they fell until only Katabasis and Gilgamesh were left. Katabasis asked Gilgamesh not to revive him immediately after his next death, to wait instead until they found rescue, because not even a Guardian's Light can take that eternal onslaught…or a Guardian's Ghost. But no sooner had Katabasis died again than Gilgamesh revived him, telling him he was done. Had been done for a long time. He had lost faith in the Light during the Red War, had tried to steer a path through the Dark, and now he just wanted it to end. He tormented Katabasis - reviving him just to let him starve to death or be torn to pieces, over and over again - until his Guardian had no choice but to kill him. Katabasis left one final message for whoever found his corpse telling of the Glykon's fate and…well…when we find him, we find him strung up on the Glykon's bridge, pierced through and through with the Dark-drinking fungus like a hideous marionette. Safe to say it wasn't a pleasant end.
But for us, it was just the beginning! Specifically the beginning of Season of the Chosen's Presage mission, aka "Goin' to Spookytown," and I'm pretty sure it exists because someone said "pfff bungie can't do horror anymore" and some dev rolled up their sleeves and went "fucking watch me." It's not hard to detect the hand of those who cooked up Halo's disgusting Gravemind at work in the fungus-rotted labyrinth of corridors and corpses you venture through aboard the newly-returned Glykon. Presage has simple puzzles based around barriers that can only be traversed after touching spores released by rupturing clumps of glowing nodules - the resemblance to Leviathan's spore mechanics is not a coincidence - that grant a buff called "Egregore Link." To save you a Google search, "egregore" in Western occultism means a non-physical entity or psychic manifestation created by a group that shares a common motivation. By inhaling the spores you gain a temporary sympathy with the fungus, which has itself melded with the Scorn hivemind, and it thinks you're part of the club just long enough to let you through a gross doorway. Traverse enough gross doorways and your reward is a showdown with the Locus of Communion, a ragged facsimile of a Scorned Baron, and finally the corpse of Katabasis strung up on the bridge with his promised rifle tangled in the hyphae below him. Personally I wouldn't want to touch a gun that's been encased in that unholy gunk, but it is a nice gun, and as we've established, Guardians will do just about anything for a nice gun.
Or in this case, multiple nice guns. Dead Man's Tale is one of two exotics that seem to have been designed as part of a new direction in gameplay loops that Bungie was experimenting with during Year 3. Starting around Shadowkeep Bungie announced they were beginning "sunsetting" of weapons and armor, imposing a max power cap on items that would eventually cause them to cycle out of use. The details of why weapon sunsetting was conceived, what it was supposed to do, and what it ended up doing, are interesting but would fill a whole other entry. Suffice to say that while they made this choice for well-motivated reasons, it turned out to be unpopular and cause its own set of problems and was reverted at the beginning of Year 4. In the meantime Bungie tried out incentivizing players to grind for exotic weapons the way they did legendary ones, since exotic weapons had no power cap. Dead Man's Tale and the handcannon Hawkmoon were both released as weekly rewards from individual, special missions (Presage and Harbinger), and while every version of them had the same intrinsic exotic perk, the rest of their attributes (barrel type, magazine, and two regular legendary perks) were random. Players could therefore play each mission up to three times a week to get three different drops. Therefore, while every drop of Dead Man's Tale comes with the vicious Cranial Spike perk, they're otherwise different.
Cranial Spike is kind of all you need, though. It's a simple perk: each precision hit increases damage and reload speed, up to five stacks. Dead Man's Tale is a Kinetic Scout Rifle, giving it long range, high precision damage, and a slow firing rate. It's also another of Tex Mechanica's Cowboy Aesthetic guns, this time based on a bolt-action rifle and complete with little spinny animation when drawing or reloading it (and an upsettingly realistic firing sound). Reloading it two rounds at a time makes it take unusually long to finish, but it also means that it can be interrupted and fired mid-reload, a benefit Destiny generally reserves for shotguns. Its two ornaments, Burial Wrap and Remembrance, tone down the yee-haw: in the case of Burial Wrap, by wrapping it in quilted blue cloth (possibly Katabasis' cloak?); in the case of Remembrance, by replacing the wood furniture with stunning scrimshaw ivory carvings of, oddly enough, Riven of a Thousand Voices. I'm not sure why they chose Riven, but it makes for a gorgeous piece. Its catalyst removes the hipfire penalties aka firing without aiming down sights becomes as accurate as aiming, which makes it a monster in some PvP activities. It's not utterly dominant, but it can put down some serious hurt. Not enough to save Katabasis, though. Maybe I'll bring it along when we finally figure out where Calus is hiding...
Destiny 2 Compendium Armarum Exoticarum
[ Ace of Spades | Ager's Scepter | Anarchy | Arbalest | Bad Juju | Bastion | Black Talon | Borealis | Cerberus+1 | The Chaperone | Cloudstrike | Coldheart | Collective Obligation | The Colony | Crimson | Cryosthesia 77K | DARCI | Dead Man's Tale | Deathbringer | Dead Messenger | Devil's Ruin | Divinity | Duality | Edge of Action/Concurrence/Intent | Eriana’s Vow | Eyes of Tomorrow | Fighting Lion | The Fourth Horseman | Forerunner | Gjallarhorn | Grand Overture | Graviton Lance | Hard Light | Hawkmoon | Heartshadow | Heir Apparent | The Huckleberry | Izanagi’s Burden | The Jade Rabbit | Jötunn | The Lament | The Last Word | Legend of Acrius | Leviathan’s Breath | Lord of Wolves | Lorentz Driver | Lumina | Malfeasance | Merciless | MIDA Multi-Tool | Le Monarque | Monte Carlo | No Time to Explain | One Thousand Voices | Osteo Striga | Outbreak Perfected | Parasite | Polaris Lance | Prometheus Lens | The Prospector | Queenbreaker | Rat King | Riskrunner | Ruinous Effigy | Salvation's Grip | Skyburner’s Oath | Sleeper Simulant | Sturm | Sunshot | SUROS Regime | Sweet Business | Symmetry | Tarrabah | Telesto | Thorn | Thunderlord | Ticuu's Divination | Tommy's Matchbook | Tractor Cannon | Traveler's Chosen | Trespasser | Trinity Ghoul | Truth | Two-Tailed Fox | Vex Mythoclast | Vigilance Wing | The Wardcliff Coil | Wavesplitter | Whisper of the Worm | Wish-Ender | Witherhoard | Worldline Zero | Xenophage ]
#Destiny 2#Dead Man's Tale#Katabasis#Presage#Gilgamesh#happy Witch Queen preview day!!#I'm so fucking hype for all that cool shit they dropped!#mad mad hype#anyways Presage is terrifying#go play it if you haven't#it's an amazing mission and this gun is legit fun#Destiny Compendium Exoticarum#Destiny#this is the wager of existence
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The Thing About Humans
summary: Connor is struggling to cope with his newly acquired emotions. Hank, however, is a pro.
warnings: cursing, mentions of death/suicidal thoughts, tickling
-~-
In the time that Connor had been living with Hank, post-deviation, he had been warned about dwelling on the past. It was a mistake Hank had made far too many times, one of which nearly resulted in him ending his own life. And Connor knew that Hank spoke the truth.
But there he was, curled up into a ball on Hank's couch, plagued by the memories of his days as a deviant hunter. He was thinking about Daniel. The look of terror and betrayal in his eyes after being shot by the snipers.
"You lied to me, Connor. You lied to me." Those were Daniel's last words, the pitch of his voice gradually deepening as his system shut down. If Connor would have known what would happen to Daniel... he would have done something to stop it. Anything.
Connor could feel himself shaking as his thoughts continued on. Where was Hank? Gone for lunch, I think. It wasn't like Hank to go to the Chicken Feed truck without him. Had Connor done something wrong? Was Hank mad at him?
Just as Connor was starting down that new thought train, he heard Hank fumbling with the key to the front door just outside. Hank finally managed to unlock the door and stumble into the house, half-empty soda cup still in-hand.
Hank was almost startled to see Connor curled up on the couch. "Connor?" No response. "Connor! What happened?" Hank quickly abandoned his soda on the kitchen table and hurried over to the couch, kneeling on the floor next to where Connor was sitting.
"Connor, talk to me. What's going on?" The genuine panic in the lieutenant's voice surprised Connor. He had only heard him speak like that during missions, when Connor's life was in jeopardy. But Connor wasn't in danger now. No, at least not physically.
"Connor!" A firm hand on his shoulder brought Connor back to reality. He looked to Hank, slightly startled. The lieutenant was taken aback by the tears streaming down his android companion's face. His voice softened, the panic fading into genuine concern. "I'm right here, son. Just breathe." Hank paused for a moment to allow Connor to catch his breath. "Can you tell me what happened?"
Connor took a moment to swipe the tears away from his eyes. "Those d-deviants-" his voice wobbled as he spoke. "They just wanted freedom. And I just-" His voice broke into a sob as he tried to continue, hiding his face in his hands, but Hank had already figured out what Connor was trying to say.
"That wasn't you, Connor. I know that, you know that, even all of Jericho knows that now. The real you, the you we all know now, is kind, compassionate, empathetic... and anybody who doesn't see that is a fool."
Connor sniffled, once again looking up at his human friend. Hank's words were genuine, and Connor knew it. "When you used to tell me I was showing empathy, I didn't believe you." Connor choked on some odd mix of a laugh and a sob, remembering his stubborn attitude prior to his deviation.
Hank chuckled at the memory of Connor back at the police station, begging him to help with locating Jericho. "No denying it now, huh?"
Hank stood up from his position on the floor, plopping down on the couch next to Connor. The android now sat upright, legs crossed beneath him.
"Feeling better?"
"I'm starting to, all thanks to you, of course."
"I'll say, I never imagined I would meet an android more empathetic than most humans. Talk about character development, huh?"
"I'm sure you're exaggerating, Lieutenant."
There was a short pause in conversation. A comfortable silence. It didn't last for much longer than ten seconds, but it was there.
"Still the same stubborn wise-ass though." Hank nudged Connor with his elbow, attempting to lighten the mood.
"Hey!" Connor yelped, pushing Hank's arm away. "As if you're not just as mule-headed as me!" Connor shot back with a grin that one could only describe as shit-eating. Oh, he was gonna be like that now.
"Holy shit, now you're giving me attitude? Where the hell did you learn that?"
"You know, Jericho may not be the greatest influence for your sweet innocent android, Lieutenant." Connor's grin grew wider with each passing second.
"Okay, now you're just asking for this." Hank jumped to his feet, grabbing Connor's hands to pull the android down onto the sofa completely, both of his wrists trapped inside one of Hank's large hands. Connor was now laying face up on the couch with his hands pinned above his head. "You knew this was coming, didn't you?"
Hank had learned a lot about Connor over the past couple of months. He learned about his fascination with dogs, heard him laugh for the first time, and discovered the android's true personality. And as sweet as Connor could be, he could also be a little shit.
Hank, however, had discovered a fool proof method of knocking Connor down a few pegs. Oddly enough, the discovery of that method just happened to go hand-in-hand with hearing Connor laugh.
"Connor, how long has it been since you laughed?"
Connor swallowed the nervous lump in the back of his throat. "Approximately 36 hours."
"You know, studies show that laughing on a regular daily basis has a significant positive impact on mental health."
"Of course I knew that, Lieutenant. I am, quite literally, a living database." If smug remarks could kill, Hank would have been six feet under.
"You pretentious motherfucker!"
Connor was about to fire back with another cocky remark, but he was cut off by his own startled yelp as Hank tazed him in the ribs. "Wait! Hank, you don't have to do this-!"
"Of course I do! You were in a shitty mood, you gave me attitude, and when I pinned you down, you continued with the attitude? Come on, Connor, you weren't exactly subtle about wanting this."
Connor attempted to defend himself, despite the fact that Hank had figured out exactly what Connor was after, but he was once again cut off, this time by his own sudden burst of laughter as Hank began repeatedly poking him in the ribs. "Don't you dahahAHAHARE-"
"Oh, I dare." Hank chuckled at the android beneath him, eying the hem of Connor's oversized DPD hoodie."
"Nohoho!"
"Yes!"
Hank quickly shoved both of his hands underneath the android's shirt, now leaving Connor with complete control over his arms. Obviously, Connor made no attempt to defend himself from Hank's attacks. He was too caught up in his own wild laughter to do so even if he wanted to.
"You know, I'd never heard any androids laugh before you, Connor. Although I can't quite say I'm complaining. It's kinda fun watching Mr. Look-At-Me-I'm-So-Serious get destroyed, and by something as childish as tickling?"
"KNOHOCK IT OHOHOHOFF!"
"No, I don't think I will." Hank's nonchalant yet teasy reply in combination with the feeling of his hoodie riding up gave Connor goosebumps. "Hey Connor? How much air can fit inside the average human's lungs?"
Connor paused for a minute, confused by the odd question. "Well it all depends on a number of factors like age, size, overall health-"
"Too slow!" And with that, Hank took a deep breath and blew a huge raspberry right over Connor's belly button.
Connor all but screamed in response, flailing his arms until he felt one of his hands make firm contact with Hank's face with a pained "Ouf-!" from the older man.
"Hank! Oh my... I didn't mean to, I'm so sorry!"
"Oh relax, will ya? I'm fine! Not really surprised either."
"Why would you do- that- if you knew I might hurt you?" The concern in Connor's voice was genuine.
"Oh my God you can't even say it!" Hank snorted as Connor's face flushed bright blue.
"Hank, I'm serious! Why would you do that?"
"Okay, look. The thing about humans is that, more often than not, they're willing to get hurt for the folks they care about. Even if that means getting smacked in the face after a very well deserved tickle attack- I wanted to cheer you up, not to mention you wanted to get wrecked. Neither of us wanted me to get smacked, but it happened. And it's okay, because you're feeling better now right?"
Connor thought for a moment. "Yes, Lieutenant. I do believe that's true."
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Think Twice part 14
Rated: M
Warnings: Not really any
“I am going to make sure you never even think of touching my girl ever again. I am going to make sure you wish you never even met her.”
Seth Rollins X OC X Jon Moxley/ Dean Ambrose
A/N: This is back due to getting asks for it. Well, okay one ask, but that was enough. I had some chapters I never posted so heres some more. I have no idea who on the taglist still wants to be apart of it or what blogs have changed so yeah. I will make a masterlist of this some time either tonight or tomorrow. As always...Enjoy.
@abadamn @hotyeehawman
Fuck. Fucking fuck fuck fuck. That couldn’t have gone any fucking worse. I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling the ends of it. I was angry, but I wasn’t sure who it was. Myself? Aria for not listening? Or Alexa for having this idea in the first place? I was a fool to ever think that she would be okay with me just lying about who I was. I thought maybe just maybe that we would be able to move past this. Hell, last night was one of the most amazing nights of my life. Sex with her was something I couldn’t help, but crave more. No woman was ever going to compare to her. I knew it was going to be thankless to even try.
I sighed deeply as I walked to my cabinet, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and pouring it into my morning cup of coffee. I had a good feeling about where Aria was going to end up after what she found out. There was one part of that note she never asked about. That was her father. I knew I had told the truth in the note about how Seth and his father had killed her father. I don’t think she wanted me to answer that part. She wanted to find out for herself which is what scared me. It meant that she was most likely heading to one person, Seth.
The phone ringing pulled me from my thoughts. I went back to the bedroom to grab it. It was Alexa. “Hello?” I answered it. I took a big drink of my coffee as I waited for her response.
“Is she with you?” Alexa asked me nervously.
“She just left. She didn’t take the news that well. I don’t know if she is heading your way or not. She didn’t exactly hear the news from me.”
“Who did she hear it from?”
“She found a note I wrote for her before I left. I never gave it to her, because I didn’t have the balls to. I got it out and some old pictures of us, I guess I forgot that I left them on the coffee table and she found them.”
“You dumb son of a bitch. What did that note say?” She shouted.
“It was an accident. The note just said my feelings...Plus that Seth might have killed her father.”
“WHAT?!” She yelled into the phone. “She can’t know that. If she knows that than she is going to confront. Shit.” She swore some more on the phone before speaking again. “I have to head to work and I am guessing you do too. We will deal with this at lunch. I hope Aria turns up at work.”
“What if she goes to Seth?” I asked. There was no nervousness in my tone. I knew that was exactly where she was going to go.
“We will worry about that later,” Alexa said.
I sighed, hanging up the phone before taking a big swig of coffee. I got up from my bed and started to get dressed for work. I hated to admit that Alexa was right. There was nothing we could do at this point. If we did something it might do some more damage to Aria. This was going to be a long day.
I was putting my lunch in the fridge when I heard my boss, Cody, behind me. I was glad that I didn’t drink too much of that coffee and placed a piece of gum in my mouth before coming to work. I would have been sent home in a second if he smelled it on my breath. I would have been written up so fast. Cody treats everyone like real employees and isn’t scared to fire anyone. He fired a guy named Ricky for missing too many days to go tanning for his modeling gig. Ricky wasn’t much of a mechanic or a fighter. He was just a pretty boy chasing some ass. I don’t know what it was about blood and men raging with testosterone, but it makes a certain type of woman come from miles around.
“Yeah, man?” I asked him.
“I have someone begging to fight you.” He said in a stern voice. I tried to read his face to see if this was some kind of late April fools joke, but if it was a joke, he had a great poker face. No one wanted to fight me after I killed that guy. I was pretty much out without being out. I had to admit I was really enjoying no longer fighting for money. I liked just working on cars as a way to make cash. I was going to ask Cody if I could just work for the shop without fighting. He doesn’t normally hire people who don’t also fight for him. Even the girls, his wife included, fight from time to time. It’s not as common.
I raised an eyebrow, “Who? No one has wanted to fight me after what happened.”
“I think you know him quite well. He came here as an old friend the other day. Seth Rollins. His father, Hunter, said the bet isn’t money, but a girl. Aria Myers.”
I dropped the bag I was holding my hands at his words. “Aria? He wants to bet me, Aria?” I began to pace. This had to be a nightmare. How did I wake up into this nightmare? I knew I could beat Seth. Hell, I could beat him with my eyes closed if I really wanted to. He knew I was a better fighter, so why would he do this? “This motherfucker is going to cheat. Cheat like he always does. That’s how he got her in the first place.” I groaned. “Honestly this man doesn’t have an honest bone in his body. Tell him no.”
“I told him I would think about it. I think you should do the same.” Cody closed the break room door before coming in closer. “I really think you should, Dean Ambrose. You owe her that much. Isn’t that why you came back in the first place?” He asked. He was the only other person who knew who I really was besides Alexa and now Aria. I decided he was most likely the one to keep it a secret and to help me get by. He treated me the same regardless of if he knew who I was or not.
“Look, she knows who I am now. There is no telling what she is going to do with that information. She also knows what happened to her dad.”
“You told her all of that in one night,” Cody said, his eyes wide. “That’s a lot of information to drop on someone. Her concussion might have been a year ago, but if her memory still isn’t good that could throw her into a depression or something worse.
I shook my head, “I didn’t mean to. She found a note I wrote after it happened. I spilled the beans about everything from my feelings to what I knew about her father. I wrote it when I thought I would never see her again. I wasn’t man enough to give it to her at the time. She was going through a lot and I just couldn’t make it worse. I also hated the thought that this might be goodbye.”
“I better start looking at applications.” He said as he turned around.
I looked at him confused, “For what?”
“Your replacement.” He said firmly before leaving the breakroom.
#jon moxley#jon moxley smut#jon moxley x oc#seth rollins smut#seth rollins x oc#seth rollins fanfiction#dean ambrose smut#dean ambrose x oc#dean ambrose imagine
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BGDC: Stay Down
A Supernatural Fan-fiction Mini-series
Featuring: Female Hunter!Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Chuck and Jack
Written for: @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story Bingo
Summary: Everything comes to a head. Can she do better this time? Is there anything worth salvaging? Chuck has his own thoughts.
Square filled: In Vino Veritas
Word Count: 2615
Warnings: THIS HURTS, Flashbacks in italics, canon-ish, verbal arguments, that pesky motherfucker HOPE, Chuck is still a dick.
Series Masterlist
Inherit the Earth con’t
It had taken Sam two weeks to get out of Dean what happened, why she left. It was not his proudest moment, but the thought of her in their home made him sick. So, he had shown her the door. He thought he was her hero, he’d never imagined she’d treat him like a piece of meat.
There were some lines that you shouldn’t cross and he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to forgive her that.
The drive to Sam and Jack feels like an eternity, even ignoring all traffic laws. The day is bright, but the impala rumbles garishly, a black omen. The static hiss of unmanned radio stations gives her something to do. She diligently sorts the tapes, finds something to fill the void.
Melody as white noise. A band aid on a bullet wound. Dean can’t fix what’s been broken. But she never even tried.
Sam cries at the sight of her. She runs into his arms and he squeezes until he can’t any longer. An ounce of redemption in the ocean of guilt. Sam glances over her head to his brother, he feels the other shoe drop.
“Where’s Cas?” Jack’s obvious question echoes the shame in the new arrivals’ eyes. She holds her breath as Dean explains, like she’s waiting for his story before she can move on. Like he didn’t tell her either.
Sam aches with what he’s allowed to happen. The old internal rage gnashing at his gut as he screams in an abandoned restaurant. They’re what was left behind. All they have left to do is give Chuck what he wants.
His ending, at last.
Dean didn’t tell her what he and Sam were doing. Didn’t need an outside opinion on this one. Instead he asked her to keep an eye on Jack, knowing she’d say yes. He guessed he wasn’t done asking for things. The sight of Chuck makes him see red. But this was it, he’d die with his brother beside him. For the world.
When Chuck blows off their offer, he can’t say that he’s surprised. Disgusted, angry, regretful maybe, but Dean’s not surprised.
The house always wins.
They crash at a motel for the night, everyone gets their own rooms for a change. She knocks on his door just after midnight with a bottled peace offering and her ratty sleep clothes. Dean doesn’t need this right now, but he doesn’t have the energy to be cruel.
“Where’d you get this?” Dean holds the amber liquid up to the light to read the label.
“Liquor store down the street. Don’t even feel bad for taking the five finger discount anymore,” she sighs and drops on the spare bed. “You gonna tell me about your little side mission or do I just get to guess at the outcome?”
Dean cracks the bottle open and sighs. “Bupkis. So, nothing to tell, really.”
She’s watching him for signs of lies, at least she’s not overtly antagonistic with her appraisal.
He offers her the bottle and she shakes her head. ‘Maybe she learned her lesson,’ he thinks and then takes a long pull off the glass rim.
“So, the Empty, huh?” Dean grimaces as she closes her eyes, taken aback.
“What makes you think I want to talk about it?” Her faces pinches and he is just too fucking tired.
“Because you always want to talk about it. It was kind of a thing.” Dean shrugs.
“I came to check on you, dumbass,” she mutters. He sits on his bed, leaves the bottle between them on the nightstand.
He doesn’t stop the sour hum that claws up his throat. He was trying to play nice, but she just had to keep on being the tough guy. “Funny, didn’t think you cared much what happened to me anymore, or how I feel about things at least.”
She has the gall to look surprised, but underneath it he sees she’s almost as tired as he is. “I did not come here looking for a fight. If you’ve got something to say to me--- Maybe you should remember who called who. And who dropped everything to help.”
“And I don’t seem to remember you doing too much of that,” Dean snaps back, turning his head only.
She pauses and Dean feels a little smug that he’s getting to her. But not nearly as much as he should. He cocks his eyebrows, waiting for her obvious answer.
She shoves him back on his proverbial heels instead. “We both know you were just keeping tabs on me. There wasn’t anything for me to do. And then I became a fucking bargaining chip. So screw you, Dean. I’m not here for a performance review.”
“I think we already established, no one is screwing anyone here,” Dean mutters, letting his head fall back against the wall.
“Is that what this is about?! You are honestly bringing that shit up now?!”
“So what if I am? Better than acting like it never happened. Playing the fucking martyr,” Dean bites back. “I, at least, own my shit. Maybe you should try it some time.”
“You kicked me out! What was I supposed to do, wait on a damn cross until you finished your case?!” She still doesn’t get it. Dean’s chest is writhing with all the things they never buried.
“It doesn’t matter. We were family. And you threw it all away,” Dean lays it out.
“ME?!”
“Yes, you!” Dean’s standing, hunching over her, unleashing. “You had to make it about your feelings and the crush you had on me when we were kids. Don’t you see? It was more than that. We WERE more than that. But you were lonely, or horny or needed to drown your feelings. And you cheapened everything. And now---- we can’t even have a real conversation.”
It’s like he’s looking at a completely different person. He doesn’t even know her anymore.
“Dean, I---” He cuts her off, this was entirely pointless.
“Don’t, okay? Just--- leave it. I’m gonna get some air.” Dean starts towards the door and slumps, half turned he continues, “Look, I’m glad you didn’t get stuck in the Empty. But Cas did---- And to be clear, this wasn’t ever about rebuilding bridges, it was about stopping Chuck. And we couldn’t manage that.--- But we can’t just go back to the way things were just because we’re all that’s left. The sooner you understand that, the easier this will be--- for everybody.”
The heaviness of wasted effort sinks into his shoulders. Dean closes the door behind him with a gentle click. They both know she’ll be gone before he gets back.
No one left in the entire world and one of my oldest friends still doesn’t want me around. This wasn’t humble pie, it was a goddamn humility infused vat of pie filling. Not a spoon in sight.
Fuck him. Fucking pie metaphors even. Fucking brain.
I leave the damn whiskey, but I really want to throw it against the wall. Dump it in his boots. Bath in it. But I don’t. I give him his twenty paces and I duck out, bypass my room, Jack’s, and head back towards the liquor store. There was a pick-up I might be able to hot wire, if I remember where I saw it.
I mash my lips together to stop their quake, but everything keeps clawing its way up, centering itself in my way. I did this. The one person I needed to believe in me and I fucking ruined it. It was never about Amara, or Cas or him being too good for me. I just wanted what wasn’t there.
The dirtiness slides down and clings to me, like a wet coat. An unwashable stain, that’s all my presence is anymore. I don’t want to be where I am unwanted, unneeded, unuseful. Well, useless really. But, I can’t lose Sam too. Not again and definitely not now. I stop when I spot the truck.
Running isn’t going to mend what running severed.
Know better, do better.
I creep back to the motel and pretend to sleep. There are salt lines dried across my skin when Jack knocks on my door.
The sun still rises. Dean tosses his things in his bag, even the whiskey. Waste not want not. They’re heading home to regroup or to hide or just for something to do. He doesn’t care, but being out in the open feels like he’s leaving them open for an ambush, or Chuck’s prying eyes at the very least.
He knows they’re not safe from that anywhere. It just feels safer somehow.
Dean feels good in motion. Sam’s at his side, while she and Jack sit in their own quiet corners in the back. The looming reality of an empty planet unnoticeable on the backroads. Denial is a helluva drug.
So is hope. Good thing he kicked that one.
When they pull into the garage, he doesn’t even bother grabbing his duffel from the trunk. Dean bee lines for the hard stuff and no one even bats an eye.
Maybe he has always been that predictable. Maybe he no longer cares.
I’m sitting on my bed, flipping through an old photo album when Sam finds me. It’s been three days and the bunker just keeps getting hollower the longer we stay inside. It’s like Chuck is slowly strangling the oxygen from the air.
I’m pretty sure I’ll be the first one to break.
Dean’s too far into a pity party at the bottom of a bottle to be pushed off any one edge and Sam’s too good at keeping on. Of course, Jack is getting by on sheer purity of spirit.
“How you holding up?” Sam’s voice is scratchy, but familiar, I don’t know the last time we actually spoke. I don’t really make eye contact, but shrug all the same.
“You?” I ask, unnecessarily.
He sits down beside me, looking over my shoulder. He huffs out a laugh at one of the pictures.
“I can’t believe you managed to keep all of these,” Sam says as he reaches over and slides his finger tips over the poorly taped Polaroids.
“They were at Bobby’s for a while, but I dug them out of a storage unit after--- well, after I fucked things up with your brother. Figured they were all I had left after that.”
Sam inhales at my bluntness, cocks his head because it hurts to hear, but also doesn’t sit right. What a doof.
“Spit it out, Legs, I know you wanna say something,” I goad.
“I guess I don’t really--- what happened?” Sam’s eternal need to know things going for my weak spot. “I mean, Dean said you tried to put the moves on him, but I guess, why was it so horrible?”
“Well, I actually have some new information on that front,” I offer, turning to face him and placing the memories on the far side of the bed.
Sam’s brows pitch.
“Apparently, I--- cheapened everything. Dean thought whatever our relationship was, was more important than hooking up. And I made it all about me.”
“He said that?” Sam asks in a hush.
“Yup,” I huff out. “And a very firm, ‘there is no rebuilding bridges’,” I say in my best/worst Dean voice.
“Wow.” Sam looks to the ceiling then scratches the back of his head. He doesn’t know what to say.
“It’s okay, I mean, I did kiss him. I knew it was a bad idea, but I had psyched myself up that entire night, misread everything. I’ve never been the one guys willingly go home with. I shouldn’t have forced it.”
“Don’t say that. You’ve had---,” Sam breaks off when he thinks about my asshole ex.
“I’ve had a couple of real winners,” I finish for him. “But it’s okay. Because now we’re the last people on Earth. No one left to break my heart.”
I slap the edge of the mattress and lurch to my feet, ignoring the pain in Sam’s eyes. He just lost Eileen and here I am moping about something that happened over two years ago. Once a shitty friend, always a shitty friend.
“You can keep looking through that if you want. I’m gonna start dinner,” I add at the door.
Sam nods, but he doesn’t reach for the album. He just sits on my bed and chews the inside of his lips.
Jack’s feeling things and Sam’s looking at Dean with insistence, but Dean’s hungover-leeched brain is not putting things together.
“What?!”
Sam grimaces, heavy on the bitch factor. “I think you should be the one to tell her we’ve got a lead. Meanwhile, I’ll start packing the car.”
“Great. Sure.” Dean does little to hide his disdain. Sam doesn’t budge.
He grunts through an explanation as she cleans her gun. Luckily, she doesn’t ask too many questions because the vibrations of his own voice are adding to the throbbing at the base of his skull.
She slips him a bottle of painkillers before ducking into the back seat next to Jack. He doesn’t say thank you, but he knows she knows he’s grateful. They used to be able to do that, not as easily as he and Sam, but silent communication was possible, once.
He gets them on the road before noon, the familiar feel of the wheel in his hands steadies Dean until the pain starts to subside. The soft, yet urgent Jack-P-S guiding their way.
They stop for an inevitable pitstop and Dean gets hit with a pure dose of that damning hope. A white, shaggy dog is laying outside the men’s room and his face breaks into a smile for the first time in weeks. It’s the proof he needed aside from Jack’s fuzzy radar.
Chuck didn’t get everything.
He scoops the dog up and shows him off to Sam, forgetting entirely about his need to pee. He sets the sudden miracle in the backseat, promises there’ll be enough room for him.
That’s when Dean spots Chuck in the field, menacing and knowing. Dean straightens on instinct, facing the threat. As Chuck raises his hand to snap, a gushing voice rushes to Dean’s side.
“Oh, who’s a good boy?!” She doesn’t see their destructive creator waiting in the wings and Dean moves to shield her from Chuck’s gaze.
It’s too late.
Suddenly Chuck is standing beside the impala’s trunk.
“Now, how exactly did I miss you?” Chuck gapes, the disbelief and rage shifting across his once amiable face.
She chokes on her breath, freezes on the spot. Dean sees the power trip flash in Chuck’s piercing blue gaze. He likes when people are fearful, he likes to see them squirm.
“She wasn’t here when you iced everybody, Chuck. It doesn’t matter anyway, it’s still just us,” Dean reasons, downplaying her worth.
“Nah, I don’t like it. It’s supposed to be you and Sam. Jack, fine. He’s just a pet anyway. But her? You guys get over your crap and suddenly there’s a whole new generation of thorns in my side. Sorry,” Chuck huffs and snaps his fingers. She disappears faster than Dean could take it in. “Not sorry.”
“What the hell?!” Dean barks. Panic, rage, and overwhelming sadness shoot through him as he dives towards Chuck. But he’s gone before Dean can get there. Falling to the gravel, gracelessly, Dean spins on his knees to see if Sam or Jack are still alive and accounted for. He spots their silhouettes through the convenience store windows. With that little platitude, Dean staggers over to soothe the dog’s sudden whimper. And then it vanishes too.
Maybe Dean never made it out of Hell after all.
Tell me what you think?
Tagging: @peridottea91 @fookinghelljensensthighs @cosicas-cuquis @flamencodiva @akshi8278 @dontshootmespence @smi727 @ericaprice2008 @crashdevlin @dolphincliffs @spnfamily-j2
Read On: Free Will
#bgdc#dean winchester fanfiction#tell me a story bingo#spn fanfic#supernatural fanfiction#dean angst#s15 fic#platonic!reader#plussized!reader#reader insert#spn angst#the dog gets dusted#no beta I die on my own sword
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Class Is In
#SL #ClassIsIn
Written by @DamagedBrother and @OfFeatherNFang
****
Mal:
I shifted uncomfortably. It wasn’t even the first time, but thank fuck, none of my new ‘students’ seemed to notice. As each of the Brothers filed in, taking various seats at the front of the room, I resisted the urge to up and fucking leave. Instead I clenched the black dry erase marker, my eyes straying to Zsadist, who watched me with a small, reassuring smile. My free hand absently brushed over the new scar beneath my shirt, reminding me of what I was doing, and why.
My most recent hospital stay had ended only a few days earlier, and while I’d been approved to teach a classroom full of muscle clad, would-kick-the-shit-out-of-satan killers, I was still black listed from actually leaving the manse to go on rotation. So I had to take what I could get I guess.
As silence crept in with everyone settling the fuck down, I felt the even more uncomfortable weight of eyes on me, waiting for how I was going to wow them. I mean, this wasn’t a class on explosives, firearms, or the 52 ways you could kill a guy with your thumb. This was on the supernatural. Or, I guess, everything ELSE that was supernatural other than… well, us.
“Right, shit, well… here we go. Never been a public speaker, so bear the fuck with me while I figure this shit out,” I mutter, tapping the marker against my free hand. Rhage, helpfully, grinned and said ‘here, here’.
“Well, let’s start by cutting straight to the why’s of being here,” I say firmly, looking to Zsadist and giving a small nod. “Z had a demon hitch a ride. He was possessed,” I say flatly. “And demons gossip around the lava water cooler worse than chicks in a high school. If we don’t start taking precautions now, we could be seeing more of them. Or more of what happened…”
I managed to keep myself from brushing the scar this time, but nothing could quell the furious fire burning in me to ensure Zsadist would never, ever have to go through that shit again.
Zsadist:
I couldn’t help but keep my eyes locked onto my male. I mean let’s face it, I always wanted my eyes on him. But even more lately with what had gone down recently. I could have lost him. Lost the most important person in life at the hands of myself. Well technically not myself, but still, this meeting was important. It was important for the Brotherhood to learn some knowledge on a new threat we had.
Demons.
Shaking the thought from my head as I give my male an encouraging smile. He looked nervous as hell to be in front of the Brotherhood right now, about to teach them a thing or two of his enemies. Though I wanted to believe that my Brothers would behave and give them his full attention.
I couldn’t help but notice Mal’s hand as it crept closer to the new scar that I helped make on his body. Yes, this wasn’t my doing completely, but my hand was the one wielding the dagger. I had to stop letting myself believe this was all my fault, because it wasn’t.
The demons were another enemy that we needed to take down. So I made sure everyone was paying attention before my eyes landed on Mal once again.
Mal:
“I can honestly say I’ve never dealt with a demon possessing a vampire before, but then again, I don’t think the regular vampires they’re used to quite cut it…”
I frowned at that thought, but shrugged and kept going.
“Anyway, we’ll deal with the other breeds of vampires in another lesson,” I say absently, shaking my head. “And ghouls… werewolves… wendigos… poltergeists… well, you get the idea.” I waved my hand as if it would dismiss all the other breeds of supernatural beasties I’d just thrown out there. “Demons are our most pressing issue. How to identify one…”
Turning to the white board, I popped the top on my marker and started to write as I spoke.
“Flickering lights. While also a sign of a malevolent spirit, it can be an indicator that a strong demon is nearby. In their raw form, they look like dark black smoke. That smoke will seek access to your body through your nose and mouth,” I instruct, turning to look back at the Brothers.
All of whom were staring at me, wide eyed and… damn, I wasn’t sure. Angry? Disbelieving? Incredulous? I couldn’t pin it. But this shit was definitely not what they were used to dealing with, and I was going to need to give them a minute to absorb.
“Uh… ask questions, if you want. If it… makes it easier.”
Zsadist:
Whoa okay. That was a lot of knowledge my male just spilled. I was just accepting the fact that demons had entered our world, but all those other things? Hell no.
As I looked around the room I couldn’t help but notice my Brothers with the same blank look on their faces. Vishous was the first one to recover. I watched carefully as he lit a blunt then leaned across his desk.
“Well shit. Always figured there was more to life than just us and the humans.” Vishous said with a shrug.
Rhage’s brows drew in as he raised his hand. I couldn’t help but laugh as he played the role as a student. Once called on, by the very sexy teacher, he drops his hand and unwraps a lollipop.
“So...like all those things you are saying is bad? But how can that be true? I mean...Hadrian is a shifter and he isn’t bad. Used for bad things, sure, but that isn’t his fault. I guess what I’m saying is, what is trying to come for us currently? Do the demons work with the other parties that were mentioned?”
Ah yes, Hadrian.
Even though we were connected, I had a weird feeling that Rhage was tight with the male as well. Rhage once told me that he can relate to Hadrian in some way and hopes that they would get the chance to spend more time together.
Speaking of, I needed to check in with the shifter and make sure he was doing alright. We did manage to be on rotation together every now and then, but rarely did we have the time to chit chat. Maybe next time Mal was out fighting and I was at home I could see if Hadrian wanted to grab a beer. Couldn’t hurt.
Mal:
“Not all shifters are bad the way not all vampires are bad,” I conceded, nodding my head. “Hadrian is a special example too. Even in his world, being able to shift into more than one creature is rare. Most shifters, like werewolves, are bound to one animal.”
Pausing, I took in a breath, trying not to let myself be distracted by thoughts of Hadrian. The shifter being metaphysically bound to my mate was still a raw point for me, but I was working through it. Y’know. Slowly.
“But back to demons…” Lifting a hand to my shirt, I tugged down the collar just enough to reveal the pentacle tattoo across my chest. I also tried to ignore the quick way Z’s golden eyes narrowed at my potentially showing skin to his Brothers, but in this instance he was definitely going to have to breathe. “There are ways of ensuring a demon can’t possess you,” I explain. “This symbol is a protective one that repels demons. They can’t possess me. You can also wear the symbol, or other various amulets and protective talismans, to prevent it.”
Letting go of the shirt, I start a list.
“So, symbols. Talismans. Holy water,” I add, my tone rueful as I figured some of them were, undoubtedly, rolling their eyes. After all, holy water was also a mythical vampire repellent. “If a demon has already possessed a body, you can sometimes provoke them into revealing themselves by saying the name of God in latin.” I glance back at all of them. “Their eyes will turn a complete and glossy black with no iris at all. If they turn any other colour… well. Run like hell while screaming my name,” I say dryly.
Zsadist:
My eyes narrowed dangerously low when I watched Mal reveal his chest to my Brothers. Sure, they’ve seen his bare torso, but that doesn’t mean I wanted them sneaking a peek.
Quickly my head snaps in Vishous’s direction when he starts sketching in the notebook he brought to Mal’s class. Leaning over my desk to look over his shoulder only to reveal a drawing of the tattoo my male wore on his chest. Vishous continued to underline the shape as I leaned back into my seat. He probably had a plan of making some amulets for us to wear while out on rotation.
Everything Mal described sounded...insane. But I knew first hand that this was serious, and everything that he was saying was true.
“I can’t believe we are going to turn into demon hunters!” Rhage chimes in with a goofy smile.
I hold back a snort, turning my attention towards Tohrment as he clears his throat. All heads turn towards his direction.
“So...do these demons have a main purpose? Or do they just run around trying to find people to possess. Like we know what the lessers want...I was just wondering if these demons had an end goal.” Tohr murmurs as he crosses his arms.
Mal:
“Woah, hold your horses dragon boy,” I snort, shaking my head. “I don’t want to turn the Brotherhood into hunters. Believe it or not, there are hunters out there ready to track down demons and the like when they pop up and send them back to Hell. The ‘only’ reason I am teaching ‘anything’ right now is because… well, me being here could bring more of the nasties into our radar, and I want everyone at least prepared to handle it.”
Yeah. Fuck. I ‘so’ did not need to lead these leather clad killers into metaphysical battles. They were all about the bang bang motherfuckers, and you couldn’t waste a ghost or half the things I’d fought with just lead and blades alone.
“Case in point,” I continue, arching a brow. “Half the shit I deal with can’t be snuffed out with a few bullets or a well placed knife to the heart cavity, yeah? Banishing demons requires the seal of solomon and exorcism chants and a whole whack of shit. In the case of possession? Prevention is so much better than cure, so I just want everyone able to avoid it. Depending on who excels at these classes, I may go further to teach exorcisms.”
My eyes flicked to Zsadist, then to Vishous, the two I’d already pegged as most likely to be taught an exorcism. If Vishous didn’t go ahead and research the latin for it without me I’d be shocked.
“As far as a demon’s purpose…” I trailed off, sighed then shrugged. “Really, they want mayhem. They want souls. They don’t want to be in hell. So, all of the above and then some. The better their vessel, the more situated they are to get other demons up and included. So, a breed of rich, powerful vampires with all manner of weapons at their disposal would be ‘very’ appealing,” I add dryly. “So, to reiterate… demons flinch at the latin name of God, burn at the touch of holy water, have dark eyes and look like dark clouds of smoke when they come at you in raw form. Any questions?”
Zsadist:
Everyone kinda stayed quiet, some shook their heads as Mal asked if anyone had questions. Which honestly I was a little relieved at. That means that my Brothers were taking this seriously. Then again after they discovered Hadrian, and learned about shifters, they must believe that anything is possible at this point.
“Think this is a good starting point. We need to continue on and train to be able to handle the demons. Mal is right in a sense where we don’t need to go out and look for demons to destroy, but more so be equipped to handle them if they get in the way from our main goal.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle slightly as Rhage’s face fell. Maybe one day Rhage could go on a mission if any of Mal’s hunter friends ever needs a hand. Then again Hollywood actually might cause more damage.
Snorting at the thought as I look up to watch them file out slowly. Vishous stops in front of my mate to show him some things he wrote down then bumps his shoulder before following out after Butch. Figures V would be all about this. I’m sure he would be up all night doing research.
I lean back in my desk, keeping my eyes on my mate as a private smile slowly forms on my face. Something that my Brothers wouldn’t get to see. Slowly I move to get up, the wooden chair creaking beneath me as I shift my weight off of it.
“Well, that went...well.” I rumbled as I made my way over to the very handsome teacher. “What do you think?” My arms cross over my broad chest.
Mal:
With everyone getting the basics down and with no further questions, class seemed to be dismissed. As Vishous stopped to show me his mockup of the tattoo on my chest, I nodded, agreeing with his ideas of necklaces and arm bands bearing the symbol to protect the Brothers. They needed things that were easy to put on or keep close that wouldn’t get in the way of the fight.
Waiting for Z to come up, I felt myself relaxing the closer he got, until he was right there and I was leaning over to steal a kiss.
“You think it went well?” I murmur, grateful to hear it. “Could you tell I was nervous? Teaching classes is not really my schtick, but everyone seemed to… take it well.”
Sighing, I leant against the desk at the front and gestured backward at the board and the notes I’d made.
“I know this is new to everyone, but… I appreciate the enthusiasm.” Pausing, I looked my male over and felt a familiar and welcome rush of affection. “You okay?”
Zsadist:
The kiss was soft and I welcomed it by sliding my arms around Mal’s waist. Holding my mate against me as my hand lifted to graze his cheek.
“Yeah, now that everything's okay and you are healed.” I murmur as I avoid his gaze for a moment. Trying not to picture the moment I stabbed my own mate in the chest.
Clears my throat. “This is good. We needed this done in case we came in contact with another demon. It seems like everyone took it serious for the most part.” I snort thinking of Rhage then shrugs. “Do you feel good about continuing the lessons? I want to make sure every Brother is well equipped to take care of a demon if we come across one. Scribe, don’t need anyone else getting possessed and stabbing people in the manse.”
Mal could have died. So we needed to take this seriously and make sure everyone in the mansion was safe at all times. To think that we let a threat in, that I let a threat in, was unsettling.
Mal:
Nodding, I rubbed a hand down my mate’s arm reassuringly, looking at the empty classroom. I’d already started to take precautions of my own. The second I’d been released from the med wing I’d sought out, of all people, Fritz, asking for a layout of the grounds and every entrance. From there, I’d gone to each one and set up holy seals - wards to keep out demons and trap any that tried to enter.
“I’ve spoken with Vishous,” I murmur, still thinking about the wards. “I let him know about the wards I put near the entrances - asked him to figure out more permanent solutions to my chalk and salt displays. I think Fritz almost had a coronary when I drew on everything, threw salt everywhere, and told him he couldn’t clean it,” I add ruefully, flashing Z a smile. “But at least that’s a start. I should’ve thought of that when I moved in…”
The admission tasted sour on my tongue, and I looked away from the intensity of that golden gaze to better process my guilt. If I’d had devil’s traps set when I moved in, Zsadist and the demon hitching a ride wouldn’t have got past the door. He’d have been trapped, but performing an exorcism at that point would’ve been a lot fucking easier. But instead I’d been naive, thinking the demons and all the beasties I’d hunted would never find me in Caldwell. And Z had almost paid the price.
“I’m good with continuing lessons, not just on demons,” I said finally, letting out a breath. “And while I was honest when I said I don’t want the Brothers going hunting if I can help it, there is a perk to knowing I have back up if something goes down in our backyard.”
Zsadist:
“Don’t beat yourself up about that. Hell, I’m surprised this is the first time we have come in contact with them. With all the shit we dabble in you would have thought we would have seen them before” I shrug before reaching for my male. My hand cups his nape, forcing his gaze back to mine.
“Hey. You can’t beat yourself up over this, just like you told me that I can’t even though I do.” I snorted. “It’s done and you are safe in my arms.” My voice cracks slightly at that, holding him a little tighter in my arms.
“Everything is going well, and I’m grateful to have you teach us how to handle these demons.” I nod before slowly pulling away.
“Now...come on, let’s head back upstairs…”
My scarred lips turn up into a playful smirk as I start down the hallway. I couldn’t wait to have my male in our bed and to know that he was safe with me.
#EndSL #ClassIsIn
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