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moonfoxgazer · 5 months

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It could be considered sad, perhaps, how things must happen for things to continue on the correct path, consider how it could be comparable to that of the work of a ranch-hand as they guide the herd towards the best pastures. Occasionally they must make a difficult decision which may or may not require a sacrifice, some of the herd may not make it, but ultimately it is for the best possible outcome for the whole.

*insert that one song with tears falling down at the party and being the saddest baby in the room* I've been playing with the whole cowboy Danny Phantom idea for awhile now. If ya'll are curious about designs and meaning feel free to read below. Don't fret, I have more cowboy stuff stewing in the stock pot, but the potatoes aren't soft enough yet so ya'll have to wait a bit more.

For Danno So design choices are taking Southwestern outfitting and combining it a little with the Ghost King stuff too, such as the Crown of Fire becoming akin to a hat band (which nicer hat bands and sometimes feathers are often earned within ranch-hand and rodeo cultures) and then the Ring of Rage becomes the Bolo of Rage, heh. And naturally the kiddo's insignia becomes a belt buckle because those are earned for sure and usually goes with the outfit. Now for CW

I based a lot of his design off more outrider/ outlaw designs while keeping the feeling of his original outfit. So his cloak remained but shorter and a little more ragged, which many travelers back then would have some sort of cloak or coat, depending on region, money and circumstance, fighters usually went with looser clothing so it was easier to move and access weapons. Of course you have the bandolier, which was used mostly to carry more ammo. The rifle CW is carrying is loosely based off a Winchester Model 1873 Smoothbore Rifle, which was a common rifle type in the late 1800s. Of course I had to reference the medallions with an engraving in the butt of the rifle, which carvings and decorations on firearms were common during the time, with many carving the decorations themselves during downtime, and well, we know how CW is about his branding. The last bit that really could stand out is his belt buckle, which is of course decorative and based off Dine Silver and Turquoise jewelry with a common blossom pattern in the center. Being from the southwest, there's a lot of things about life out here, both in the past and present that require sacrifice and that's something that resonates a lot with DP honestly. It's a theme I like playing with a bit when it comes to the idea of the southwest. It's why Danny looks melancholy and withdrawn here and CW in his typical aloof nature is more, neutral. If ya'll read through all this, congrats, you didn't get caught in a cactus, ya'll are awesome.

#moonidraw #danny phantom #concept #danny phantom fanart #cowboy danny phantom #cowboy #western aesthetic #ghosts #ghost cowboy #clockwork #glockwork #cowboy clockwork #ghost king au #ghost king danny #history lesson #look this is a special interest of mine and it means a lot to me because it's a big part of the culture of where i am from

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stusbunker · 3 months

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Spotless: Cuivré

Chapter Ten

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam, faceless paparazzi

Word Count: 1873

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, family stuff, Dean and Bela go out, I ran out of time for more smut, I'm sorry! unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

Dean chewed his cheesesteak and waited for Sam to spill what they were really doing out to lunch in this out-of-the-way place ten minutes from the studio where he and Ash had been wrapping up production. Sam had grown more stoic over the past year or so, walking on eggshells around Dean’s temper would do that to anyone, even if they’d had the experience of growing up with John’s.

Not to say Dean hadn’t appreciated Sam keeping most of his opinions to himself as Dean figured out just who he wanted to be, to become. Because Sam was a bit of a whiner and Dean really couldn’t argue with himself and Sam and still feel like he was gaining ground. The kid had always been too smart. Adam too, if he was being honest, but he wasn’t there. Adam hadn’t gotten to see first hand the destructive spiral Dean had thrown himself into and thank God for that, because he still thought Dean was someone worth emulating.

“What’s up?” Dean broke the stalemate between Sam and his salad.

Sam took a bite and Dean had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the clear procrastination. He huffed and shoved his sandwich into his mouth letting the melding of meat, cheese, and juice-soaked-bread nearly make up for his brother being a shit.

Sam stretched out his neck and swallowed thickly, taking a sip of his water before he finally spit it out. “Kate called, she needs to know when we’ll be home and how long we’ll be back.”

Dean sighed. “What did you say?”

Sam leaned over his bowl. “That’d I’d talk to you and let her know.”

Dean nodded and set his sandwich down to pull out his phone. His calendar was a mess, uncompleted reminders and bright colors of things he didn’t really have a say in most days. The blue of the date with Bela the following night was something he’d been looking forward to, though. He scrolled out to see the whole month.

“I’ve got nothing after the eighteenth. Bela’s going home for the holidays so won’t have to worry about her until New Years. What’s Madison doing?”

Sam huffed. “Dude, don’t lump them together like they’re equals.”

Dean raised his eyebrows and pinched his lips shut. He could wait out Sam’s brattiness better than most.

“Dude, come on. My actual girlfriend will be flying home to Ohio for like the three days the shelter’s closed to the public, otherwise she still has to work.”

“Was that so hard?”

“Fuck off, Dean. When do you want to leave?”

“I really don’t want to go at all, but I miss the kid,” Dean said honestly, taking another obnoxious bite. Two could play at that game.

“Yeah, but it’s been awhile since we did the whole home-for-the-holidays thing. Plus, we can stop and see Ellen, meet up with Garth or somebody.”

Dean nodded as he chewed, gesturing to his phone. “When do you think we should leave? Thinking what, three days out, two back?”

“We could do two and two, weather permitting,” Sam offered.

Dean looked at his fries when he added, “we’re going through Flagstaff. I’m not driving through Utah if I don’t have to.”

Sam leered at him. “I doubt that will be any better, but I don’t really care as long as you don’t bitch about my car the whole way.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. You’re the bitch anyhow,” Dean grinned sarcastically before stuffing his face with the last third of his sandwich in one go.

“Jerk,” Sam muttered and continued to stab at his salad. Neither of them stated the obvious, that Dean’s route avoided Vegas, Utah really had nothing to do with it.

Bela’s townhouse was only a fifteen minute drive from Dean and Sam’s house once she finally gave in and gave him her address. He pulled up to the curb with the freshly waxed Impala and his oldest leather jacket. He slid out of the driver’s seat and clocked the corners, seeing if he had any nibblers as he popped his collar and locked the door.

They were going to go big this time, an entire night out on the town. Dean had been too busy recording and they didn’t want to lose any momentum with them both traveling for the holidays. At least, that’s how you sold it. And Bela was more than willing to set the itinerary. Dean, surprisingly, went along with it, as long as he got to drive, which ensured he wouldn’t be imbibing too heavily and could make the call to escape whenever he saw fit.

Dean felt every inch a rockstar as he strolled up to Bela’s door, knocking instead of texting to announce his arrival. She left him out there for almost five minutes before buzzing him in, but he took it in stride.

Bela’s place was nice in an untouched kind of way, it was all huge white walls and seamless floorboards and regular maid visits. Sure, Dean and Sam used a cleaning lady, but it was more due to the size of their place than appearances. Dean still washed his own damn dishes.

He was stunned when she rounded the corner, bare shoulders and lean neck, her natural beauty more accessible than the last time he saw her. He whistled quietly, taking in her pristine white pants and silver slip of a camisole.

“You cut your hair,” Dean said, surprised.

“Yes?” Bela’s face scrunched up as if she was afraid for his mental capacity.

“It looks nice, fresh,” Dean added, stepping into her space and leaving a peck on her cheek. “Almost ready?”

She swayed a little and rested her temple against his jaw, his hands automatically found her hips. “Anybody out there?”

“Not that I noticed, but trust me, the car will turn some heads,” Dean reassured, palms hugging the little meat on her.

Bela groaned. “Fine! Let’s go.”

Dean smirked when she eyed the car, holding the door open for her as she sank on to the vinyl. She would die before admitting he was right, so he revved the engine a little before pulling into traffic.

The restaurant was down the street from a new club Dean had heard about and he knew a guy so he was able to get Baby properly valeted for the interim. Walking would get them more coverage, even if it was only two blocks. But until then he had to stand and wait at the coat check, Bela’s coat that perfectly matched her pants was draped over his arm while she checked her makeup or whatever it was that girls did in the bathroom. He had asked Charlie before, for insider information, but she just shook her head at him. And, well, you really didn’t seem like the type to go in packs.

“Alright then?” Bela asked, bringing Dean back to the present.

“Right as rain,” Dean said smugly, holding open Bela’s coat for her to slip into. “Hey, I was meaning to ask you, uh, does Trouble know about us? About the limo?”

Bela turned sharply, bright eyes cutting as she searched his face for something, maybe to see if he was joking, maybe to see if she’d heard him right. “Is she supposed to?”

Dean shrugged, holding out his elbow for her to take as they headed outside.

“I thought that was something girls talked about with their best friends, all the gory details,” Dean emphasized the last two words.

Bela leaned in to speak quieter, “I don’t know if you’re fishing for compliments or if you’re being intentionally obtuse.”

Dean chuckled self-deprecatingly. “Both, it’s always good to assume both.”

“Right. Well, I don’t think you’d like to hear about Sam’s abilities and conquests in detail, would you?”

Dean spotted the camera before the photographer, but he smirked and leaned tighter into Bela’s side. “What’s Sammy got to do with this?”

Bela laughed, loud and bright, it didn’t even feel like she was acting, but Dean felt the flinch as the flashes started. The sidewalk erupted as people spotted them, most moving out of their way, some still shoving past, annoyed. He had thought about bringing Benny along, just in case, but it shouldn’t be that much of an issue, it wasn’t a concert-sized crowd.

Dean prayed he wasn’t wrong.

He took Bela’s elbow in his other hand and wrapped his right arm around her waist instead, keeping her close, safe. But outwardly, he remained cool, easy smiles and murmuring to her as if in secret. The conversation dropped as they slipped past the VIP line and into the side entrance of the club. Again, because Dean knew a guy, not because either of them were that famous. They wouldn’t have to do this song and dance if they were.

“You good?” Dean asked as soon as they were alone.

“Peachy,” Bela replied, excitement dancing in her eyes as she darted past him towards the nearest bar, calling over her shoulder, “drink?”

Dean rolled his eyes and fought to catch up. They talked, and danced and made painful small talk with the other people in VIP. Dean ignored the knowing glances from a gaggle of twenty-somethings in the corner. Hell, it was LA, they were probably older than him anyway.

Bela came back with another drink for herself and a tonic with lime for Dean, keeping up the front. She draped herself against his side after setting their drinks down. “You’re brooding again,” she warned him.

Dean couldn’t help but smile. “Am I now? Couldn’t be from you being cryptic on the way in here, huh?”

She tipped her chin and looked at him with the full force of her eyes. “Dean? Don’t be an idiot. I didn’t tell Y/N about fooling around with you because I didn’t think she’d want to hear it, especially the details. She says you think of her as a little sister, I wouldn’t want to scar her beyond belief.”

Dean licked his lips, his stomach was somewhere on the dancefloor below. “She said that? That she thinks of me as her brother?”

Bela pulled back and patted his chest. “I think it’s what she thinks you do. Why? Is there something else going on I should know about?”

Dean tensed, sure they were more or less alone up there in their little corner of the VIP, but this wasn’t the place for this kind of conversation. “You’ve been friends with her for a while, has she ever told you about Jo?”

“You mean the best friend from high school who she lost in the accident?” Bela matched his solemness.

“Yeah— I guess you know, but, uh, she was my girlfriend when she—,” Dean always had trouble talking about this, it’s why Missouri still didn’t know it all.

“And Y/N just went and set you up with another best friend, like she was playing dolls?” Bela asked, trying to suss out what had Dean so on edge.

Damn.

Dean hadn’t thought about it that way. Maybe you had different intentions than just business. Maybe Dean had been reading the tension pouring off of you all wrong. Maybe he was just some hapless big brother to you after all.

Bela's look

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter Eleven: Eco

#spotless series #dean/reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean/bela #slow burn #rockstar au #fake dating

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wizard-on-whales · 3 months

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Dressed in yellow with his yellowboy

The Lancaster Repeaters in the game were based after Winchesters lever action rifle which was often called "Yellowboy" for it's polished bronze frame. And although the gun in the game was designed after the 1866 model (which was Winchesters first ever gun) the 1873 model was considered to be "the gun that won the West" as it was a favorite not only among the cowboys but also the Indians

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #van der linde gang #dutch van der linde #hosea rdr2 #john marston #red dead fandom #red dead redemption #rdr1

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freetheshit-outofyou · 7 months

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little nuggets from the Duncan v. Bonta, No. 19-55376 (9th Cir. 2021) ruling. California's magazine ban. Judge Roger T. Benitez (St. Benitez) is dropping truth bombs all over Rob Bonta, Attorney General of the State of California.

“Rather than re-tell the long history of large-capacity magazines in this country, we offer some highlights:

• The first known firearm capable of firing more than ten rounds without reloading was a 16-shooter invented in 1580.

• The earliest record of a repeating firearm in America noted that it fired more than ten rounds: In 1722, Samuel Niles wrote of Indians being entertained by a firearm that “though loaded but once, . . . was discharged eleven times following, with bullets, in the space of two minutes.” Harold L. Peterson, Arms and Armor in Colonial America 1526–1783, 215 (2000). DUNCAN V. BONTA 133 • At the Founding, the state-of the-art firearm was the Girandoni air rifle with a 22-shot magazine capacity. • In 1777, Joseph Belton demonstrated a 16-shot repeating rifle before the Continental Congress, seeking approval for its manufacture. Robert Held, The Belton Systems, 1758 & 1784–86: America’s First Repeating Firearms 37 (1986).

• By the 1830s, “Pepperbox” pistols had been introduced to the American public and became commercially successful. Depending on the model, the Pepperbox could fire 5, 6, 12, 18, or 24 rounds without reloading. • It took several years for Samuel Colt’s revolvers (also invented in the 1830s) to surpass the Pepperbox pistol in the marketplace.

• From the 1830s to the 1850s, several more rifles were invented with large ammunition capacities, ranging from 12- to 38- shot magazines.

• By 1855, Daniel Wesson (of Smith and Wesson fame) and Oliver Winchester collaborated to introduce the lever action rifle, which contained a 30-round magazine that could be emptied in less than one minute. A later iteration of this rifle, the 16-round Henry lever action rifle, became commercially successful, selling about 14,000 from 1860 to 1866.

• By 1866, the first Winchester rifle, the Model 1866, could hold 17 rounds in the magazine and one in the chamber, all of which could be fired in nine seconds. All told, Winchester made over 170,000 copies of the from 1866 to 1898. See Norm Flayderman, Flayderman’s 134 DUNCAN V. BONTA Guide to Antique Firearms and Their Values 268 (6th ed. 1994).

• A few years later, Winchester produced the M1873, capable of holding 10 to 11 rounds, of which over 720,000 copies were made from 1873 to 1919.

From this history, the clear picture emerges that firearms with large-capacity capabilities were widely possessed by law-abiding citizens by the time of the Second Amendment’s incorporation. In that way, today’s large-capacity magazines are “modern-day equivalents” of these historical arms, and are entitled to the Second Amendment’s protection.” Pages 132-134 “Characterizing my car ban analogies as “inapt,” the majority says that California’s magazine ban is more akin to “speed limits.” But in attempting to trade my analogies for a more favorable one, the majority misses the obvious point: that in every context except our distorted Second Amendment jurisprudence, everyone agrees that when you evaluate whether a response to avoid some harm is “rational”—much less a “reasonable fit”—you takes into account both the gravity of the possible harm and the risk of it occurring. The majority here completely ignores the latter. Perhaps if I use the majority’s own analogy it might click: If California chose to impose a state-wide 10 mph speed limit to prevent the very real harm of over 3,700 motor-vehicle deaths each year experienced from driving over 10 mph, no one would think such a response is rational—precisely because, even though the many deaths from such crashes are terrible, they are a comparatively rare occurrence (although much more common than deaths caused by mass shootings).” Page 152 “The majority also relies on the argument that limiting magazine capacity provides “precious down-time” during reloading, giving “victims and law enforcement officers” time to “fight back.” But here again, that same “down-time” applies equally to a mother seeking to protect herself and her children from a gang of criminals breaking into her home, or a law-abiding citizen caught alone by one of the lawless criminal mobs that recently have been terrorizing cities in our circuit. The majority focuses only on ways higher capacity magazines might cause more harm in the very rare mass shooting, while dismissing the life-threatening impact of being forced to reload in a self-defense situation as a mere “inconvenience,” and characterizing as mere “speculat[ion] . . . situations in which a person might want to use a largecapacity magazine for self-defense.”

Ultimately, it is not altogether surprising that federal judges, who have armed security protecting their workplace, home security systems supplied at taxpayer expense, and the ability to call an armed marshal to their upper-middleclass home whenever they feel the whiff of a threat, would have trouble relating to why the average person might want a magazine with over ten rounds to defend herself. But this simply reinforces why those same judges shouldn’t be expected to fairly balance any Second Amendment test asking whether ordinary law-abiding citizens really need some firearm product or usage.” Pages 164 and 165

#pro 2a

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just-another-star-47 · 3 months

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Leander Prewett

Please be aware that this Leander is the version of my fic "When shadows turn to darkness", so he may be different from the Leander you envision him to be.

Of course feel free to ask me any questions that may arise, reading this. 😊

Full name: Leander Anaklet Prewett

Birthday: 16. October 1873

Two older sisters (one working at the Ministry of Magic, the other beeing in her seventh year in Hogwarts/Ravenclaw)

Two younger sisters (identical twins; eight years old)

His mother is a housewife, his father is famous for his wood carvings; his grandmother is living with them as well

The family lives in Winchester, England among Muggles

Leander is clumsy when it comes to flying and barely is able to hold himself up on the broom

His mother became gravely ill after the birth of the twins and Leander and his older sisters took care of them as best as they could -> for whatever reason, the twins started to took a liking especially towards Leander

Every christmas holiday he travels back home to his family

He arrives with the Hogwarts Express and travels with a carriage to London, to meet the Weasleys in Diagon Alley

He has met Garreth way before Hogwarts because their families are rather close

Leander is a family person

He is heavy influenced by Muggle fashion, their values and beliefs because he lives among them

Leander is one of the few Wizards that is a Protestant (his family as well)

His family has enough money to live a good live, but they aren't rich by any means

Leander wishes that he would be as smart or as successful as his older sisters

He feels inadequate often and is at odds with his ego

He is a mediocre student with a talent for duelling

Best classes: Potions, Dada, Muggle Studies

Worst class: Transfiguration

He suffers with exam nerves

He has a rather soft temper, but feels the need to hide it and appear strong and nonchalant

He admires Ominis (mainly for his social graces)

Leander tattles.. a lot

He visited a Christian Muggle school before Hogwarts and is therefore one of the few students able to endure History of Magic

He has a problem to unlearn his heavy accent and is teased for it - mainly from Sebastian

Leander thinks of himself as a grown man with his seventeen years, which causes him even more stress and pressure

More details will follow...

#leander prewett #hogwarts legacy #when shadows turn to darkness fic #leander prewett headcanons #hogwarts legacy characters #give leander some depth

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itsmarjudgelove · 7 months

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WINCHESTER 1873 JUTSU

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alphawolfstabs · 6 months

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BILLY

Drop some gun facts on me because I could show you some Red Dead Redemption guns on Discord.

GUN FACTS GUN FACTS GUN FACTS !!!

[Also tagging @alkivm and @smashlovesscream because I saw your asks as I was writing this!! <3]

I’m gonna be telling you about THREE KF MY FAVOURITE GUNS. BE READY. I TALK ALOT.

•The FAMAS

-The FAMAS is also known as the “Fusil d’Assaut de la Manufacture d’Armes de Saint-Étienne’ which translates to “Assault rifle from the Saint-Étienne Arms Manufacture" I believe-

-It’s a French gun, given by the name. It’s actually a French bull pup assault rifle. One way to tell it’s a bullpup is by the magazine being located behind the trigger!!

-it was developed in the LATE 1960s and was entered in the French military around 1978 I believe.

-THE CALIBER AHHHHH. It’s a 5.56x45mm NATO. Which is the basic caliber for most modern military rifles

- So fun fact about this! It’s a selective fire rifle. MEANING. It could fire in semi auto or full auto

-I believe it was also featured in a Solid Snake game- it had nothing to do with the lore but due to the FAMAS being kinda Bulky, it was easy to put into the game at the time [I don’t remember the game but it was pretty old.]

• The P90

-The FN P90, often referred to simply as the "P90," is a compact submachine gun designed and manufactured by the Belgian firearms company FN Herstal!!

-CALIBER. The Caliber is a 5.7x28mm. It has low recoil but good penetration capabilities.

-the P90 Is another BULLPUP. I like bullpups- anyways. Like I said, the magazine is behind the trigger which helps for a shorter overall length while maintaining a longer barrel, which can improve accuracy and muzzle velocity.

-It's also another selective firing, so it could so semi or full auto and I find it so AMAZING

-IT CAN ALSO BE configured for left-handed use, thanks to its ambidextrous design. The P90 features controls and features that accommodate both left-handed and right-handed shooters. AHHHHHH.

-The Iron sights on a P90 are so deliciously beautiful. I just. I love.

• The Winchester 1873 Lever Action Rifle

-So this was introduced in 1983, given by the name, and was instantly a success due to its innovative design, versatility, and reliability. It was designed by John Browning, who would later become one of the most influential firearm designers in history!! AAAHHH!!

-The rifle was originally chambered for the .44-40 Winchester cartridge, which was a popular and versatile round that could be used for both rifles and handguns- although, later it was changed. sighs

-The 1873 was equipped with a rear ladder-style sight, which was adjustable for elevation gdhjkfgdsfjgdsfdsh

-So!! Its often associated with the American frontier and is deeply rooted in the history of the Wild West. Its introduction marked a significant advancement in firearms technology dhfhfkhf

YOU GUYS PROBABLY DONT KNOW A SINGLE THING I SAID BUT I PROMISE IT'S INTERESTING FDHJFGFKFHJFG

I LOVE GUNS AHHHHHHHHH

#guntism #its real #fantasylandbitch #SEEEE #I KNOW STUFF #I know more about how a gun works than relationships #is that sad? maybe #AHHHHHH #FGJHGRKYUEFGREY #thank you guys #I needed to let that ouy

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rainbowriderjt · 7 months

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150th anniversary of the 1873 Winchester

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muchamusedaboutnothing · 1 year

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Heart of a Hunter Act VII - Ch. 14

Characters: Dean x doctor!Reader, Sam Winchester

This story is Act 7 of a saga.

New to the story? Get caught up on the Heart of a Hunter Saga here.

All your favorite Winchesters are alive, in spite of the curse that nearly took them from you. After coming so close to losing the only family you have left in this world, you’re taking matters into your own hands. There’s a witch to hunt.

Series Warnings:

Character injuries/sickness - Take note that no one is excluded from this.

Canon-typical violence and language.

Lots of whump.

Lots of caring for hurt characters.

Smut (18 Only. NSFW. You were warned.)

Angst.

Fluff.

Medical talk. Is that even a warning

Image Credit: bing image search, google image search, @jamiedornaniseverything , @iansomerhaldres ,

Wordcount: 1873

Chapter 14

Dean could still hardly believe it was over. He was so goddamn proud of you his heart could burst with it.

He’d been less than an hour away when you’d called to say the witch was dead. Of course, he didn't admit when you called that he was already on the road to meet you, but you’d find out soon enough.

He knew the name of the motel you were staying in, but not the room number. When he pulled into town he called but you didn't answer, prompting him to call a second time. "Come on, sweetheart. Pick up … pick up …."

Still no answer.

He was relieved to see your truck parked only a little haphazardly in front of the stretch of motel doors. He parked Baby next to it and cut the engine, grabbing the keys as he hurried to climb out.

He looked around quickly. There were two motel doors directly in front of him, but after another glance he noticed drops of blood on the cement in front of one. He cast his eyes up to find a smear of dried blood on the doorknob, too.

He banged on the door. “Hey, it’s me. Open up.” He waited, but you didn’t come to let him in. He knocked again, sighing in frustration. It took a moment to pick the lock and he let himself in the room, but it was still faster than arguing with the motel's manager.

"Hey, you in here?" he called out as he closed the door behind him.

Your duffel was on the bed but there was no response. His eyes drifted further toward the bathroom where one of your boots was barely visible in the bathroom doorway.

He rushed forward to find you lying motionless on the linoleum with enough blood on your clothes to make his heart jump into his throat.

"No, no, no. Oh God.… " Dean dropped to his knees, searching for a pulse at your neck. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt it bounding there beneath his fingers. He kissed your forehead, shoving down the wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him as he moved on to inspecting you closer.

There were no obvious signs that you'd hit your head when you'd blacked out; another thing to be grateful for.

A needle driver was still clasped in your hand and you'd managed half a dozen stitches in the cut above your hip before passing out. From the looks of things, you'd need at least that many more to close it.

Dean loosened the belt around your thigh only to discover a gunshot wound. He cursed under his breath as he inspected the area closely. There was no exit hole and, while fresh blood slowly oozed from the wound, he was certain no major arteries were involved. He tore open a fresh gauze square and pressed it to the hole, quickly scanning the supplies already spread out all over the bathroom floor and sink.

He grabbed an elastic bandage and wrapped it around the top of your leg to hold the gauze in place and provide some compression. It would only take him a moment to finish what you'd started with the cut in your side, but retrieving the bullet would be more complicated.

"Okay, sweetheart. I've got you."

He carefully gathered you in his arms, mindful of the most obvious injuries as he carried you to the bed.

You awoke to a stinging pain in your side and throbbing in your thigh. When you opened your eyes you saw your husband bent over you, brow furrowed in concentration. You tried to speak, but your throat was so parched you only managed a soft groan.

Dean's head snapped up and he smiled as he looked at you. "Hey, there she is … my beautiful badass."

You cleared your throat. "I ... I must have-"

"Blacked out?" he offered, eyes soft and full of concern. "Totally understandable considering you were stitching yourself up. And don't worry, this cut here didn't even mess up your tattoo." He winked and kissed your lips tenderly, pulling back to gaze at you. "Hang tight for me, kay? I'm gonna finish patching you up."

You sucked in air through your teeth at the feel of the needle piercing your skin as he worked. "How - how did you get to me so fast?"

He hesitated for a heartbeat. "We'll fight about that when you're fit to be fighting again."

You knew that meant you wouldn't like whatever answer he had. Maybe letting it be for now was the right choice. "Jonah?" you asked. "Is he-"

"With Sam and Addie," Dean finished. "Playing house and getting spoiled."

You sighed a breath of relief then, only to suck in another at the pain.

"Just finishing up with this cut, and the gunshot wound in your leg is a given, but what else hurts?" Dean asked. You must have thought a little too long about how to answer, because Dean turned his head to study your face again. "Still with me?"

"Hmm? Yeah…."

"C'mon, sweetheart. You gotta tell me everywhere those sons of bitches messed you up."

You tried to focus on the question because it was reasonable for Dean to want to assess your injuries. You hadn't given him a lot of information on the phone earlier - certainly hadn't wanted to worry him more than he already was. But then, you'd apparently overestimated your ability to stay conscious while suturing yourself up.

"The gunshot wound and the cut are the worst of it," you answered.

Dean was quiet while he placed two more sutures and tied it off, trimming the excess. "Hang tight. Gotta put a bandage on this." He secured a large piece of gauze in place on your side with medical tape.

He loosened the elastic bandage he'd wrapped around your thigh and slid it further up your leg before wrapping it tighter to act like somewhat of a tourniquet. Then he immediately set to work examining the bullet wound. "Small calibur, judging by the entrance hole," he said as he worked.

"It was my backup weapon," you admitted.

Dean's eyebrows went up. "Your .380?"

"She ricocheted a round back at me and, well … "

Dean nodded in understanding. "Okay then. Good and bad news is the smaller caliber means less soft tissue damage, but the slug might be a little harder to find."

The combination of pain and surprise made you snort. "I must be delirious. I swear I just heard you say soft tissue damage."

Dean glanced up at you, a cocky smile on his handsome face. "What can I say, sweetheart? Been married to a doctor all this time. Apparently the lingo's rubbing off on me."

He used iodine from the med kit to sterilize the wound.

"There's a metal probe that's rounded on the ends." You gestured with a wave of your hand toward the med kit.

"I know. I got this," Dean said with a reassuring smile. "Hang in there for me." With forceps in one hand and the probe in the other he began searching for the bullet.

"Son of a-" You gasped and reminded yourself not to flinch or jerk away as Dean worked.

"Sorry sweetheart, but you gotta breathe," he encouraged without looking up. "Now that you're conscious let's try to keep it that way, hmm?"

You did as he said and exhaled before sucking down another breath of air. Jaw clenched, you closed your eyes against the searing, hot pain. Beads of sweat gathered on your brow. Willing yourself to hold still, you desperately wished it was over already. You just wanted to sleep.

Several minutes passed before Dean let out a victorious "Ah-ha, gotcha!" He was holding the mushroomed .380 slug up in the light using the forceps. "Another one for the Mason jar back home," he said as he set it aside on the nightstand.

"Thank you," you breathed.

"Don't mention it," he said, shooting you a wink. "Give me a second to clean this out." He ripped open a packet containing a syringe with his teeth and used it to draw up some sterile saline. Then he aimed the syringe at the bullet wound and pushed in the plunger, washing out the wound. He repeated the process several times.

"This one will have to heal from the inside out," he said as he dried the area with a square of gauze.

You nodded in agreement as he applied some antibiotic ointment and put a clean dressing in place. His doctoring skills had certainly come a long way since you'd met him.

"Good work, grasshopper," you said, smiling through the pain.

Dean moved the supplies out of the way. He brought you a glass of water and you popped an antibiotic pill from the med kit to help prevent infection.

"Let me take a good look at you." Dean's hands carefully went from your ankles to your head, checking for any other areas of tenderness or bleeding in between that he might have missed before. You had some sore spots, but that was to be expected after the fight you'd been in.

When he gently took your face in his hands and looked into your eyes, you knew he was scrutinizing the size and shape of your pupils.

"You get your bell rung?"

"Only if you count headbutting a demon."

His lips turned up in an amused smile. "That's my girl."

But it hit you like a brick then. "God, the demon…. We have to get back to the shop."

Dean's brow furrowed. "What? Right now?"

"I left a demon behind in a devil's trap."

Dean blinked at you. "One demon? So, I'll gank him. Let me just get you situated here first."

You were already sitting up again and lowering your feet to the floor. "No. I need to go."

"I don't think you should be going anywhere. I'll take care of it."

"I'm going. I need to get dressed."

Dean squared his shoulders, planting himself in front of you. "Dammit, sweetheart. Don't you think you're being a little unreasonable?"

You paused long enough to look up at him, taking a step closer and reaching out to grasp his hand in yours. "This demon - or, rather the person he's possessing - I need to find out if he can be saved. He’s the patient that was in the medically induced coma. What if we can exorcise the demon and save him?"

Dean studied you with concern in his green eyes, but, to his credit, he nodded resolutely. "Yeah, okay. If that's what you need to do."

You suspected his profound relief at your still being alive factored into that answer.

Dean retrieved his bag from the car and helped you pull on one of his clean t-shirts and your sweatpants. "You know, this still doesn't mean you have to go. I can handle an exorcism so you can stay and rest."

"Nice try." You gave him a little smirk that meant you were digging in your heels, but appreciated his failed attempt to leave you behind.

You limped across the room. "Where are my truck keys?"

Dean sighed, admitting defeat. "Just get in the car. I'm driving, missy."

Act VII Masterlist.

You can find the Masterlist for the Heart of a Hunter Saga here.

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#Heart of a Hunter #dean x doctor!reader #spn series #spn reader insert #dean x reader

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handfulsofhistory · 28 days

Text

1873 Winchester

#rifle

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burningexeter · 1 day

Text

TOP SECRET GOVERNMENT FUNDED COLLECTION, LOCATED IN LOWER MANHATTAN

What you're about to see and read is something that has been kept completely unknown by not just the general public but also several organizations in the U.S. Government as well with this being kept under lock and key by its owner and collected by the people who've helped fund this.

Actually let's cut the bullshit, what this is is a grittier, ultra-hidden, more surreal but also strangely more airier take and combination on and of Warehouse 13 and the SCP Foundation.

Hidden through an alleyway in lower Manhattan, New York, the secret entrance to it is through both a giant elevator straight out of a storage unit or an emergency exit with flights of stairs that you'd almost find in any abandoned warehouses or buildings of sorts. Whichever the way, they take you down to an underground place that's best described as a weird combination of sewer tunnels and a warehouse with sliding doors at the end to the real deal.

When one of the doors is open, here's what you find —

An entire, no VAST collection in a VAST underground warehouse filled left and right with all of these numerous different objects and items that have been collected and stored away from the public and from all of these equally numerous different events. All of them are highly organized in their own distinct sections with their histories written down alongside with them in one way or another.

But before we get to what's in this warehouse, who is the owner of this place that aforementioned keeps it under lock and key — at first, it was simply just one owner however now that's officially changed to TWO owners. Mikasa Ackerman and her wife Historia Reiss.

A former Eldian soldier and the former Eldian Queen, Mikasa's reasoning for doing this is kept completely 100% ambigious but how did Historia get dragged into this?

She followed Mikasa one night to where she was going, she discovered and quietly followed her into the entire warehouse..... only to be "discovered" by Mikasa who already knew she was there and had been following her from the immediate getco. The result was an entire chase that ended with Mikasa sinking her teeth into Historia's left ass cheek.

But what is in this warehouse:

• A 5 1/2" barrel Colt Single Action Army Artillery revolver (A Fistful Of Dollars) with silver rattlesnake inlays on the grips (For A Few Dollars More) and a Colt 1851 Navy revolver with cartridge conversion and the same silver rattlesnake inlays on the grips as well (The Good, The Bad and the Ugly).

• A Colt Model 1873 Single Action Army Revolver, a Smith & Wesson Model 3 "Schofield" Revolver, an FN Model 1903 Pistol, a Spencer Model 1865 Carbine, and a Remington Rolling Block Rifle (Red Dead Redemption).

• A Borchardt C-93, Colt 1851 Navy, Colt New Army & Navy, Colt Single Action Army, FN Model 1900, LeMat Revolver, Mauser C96, Smith & Wesson Schofield Model 3, Volcanic Repeater, Carcano M91/38, Elephant Rifle, Henry 1860, Krag-Jørgensen Rifle, Spencer Model 1860 Carbine, Browning Auto-5, 12 Gauge Double Barreled Shotgun, Sawed Off Shotgun, Winchester Model 1887, Winchester Model 1897 and bow and arrows (Red Dead Redemption 2).

• A large-bore 4-shot double-action revolver forged from a combination of Irish church bells, cold iron from crucifixes and blessed silver. Its wooden grips, estimated to be nearly 2000 years old, are engraved with a logo of a raised fist holding a dagger. Weighing in at about 10 pounds unloaded and chambered for custom 22mm cartridges, it has enough muzzle energy and recoil to break a normal man's arm (Mike Mignola's Hellboy Comic Series).

• An ornate golden ring with a large red stone in an unusual setting, not found in any Earth jeweler's catalog (Flash Gordon).

And believe it or not, that's just five. There's plenty of more where that came from. If you wanna do a retroactive shared universe than this is how you do it, my friends.

#attack on titan #mikasa ackerman #historia reiss #top secret #scp fandom #fictional conspiracy theories #a fistful of dollars #a few dollars more #the good the bad and the ugly #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #hellboy #comics #flash gordon

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