#Rip Hunter Appreciation Week
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Tear you down
Summary: Dean is not amused having you around.
Written for @spnkinkevents SPN Omegaverse Week – Day 1 – Sunday, April 14 - Heat/Rut
Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader
Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, heat/rut, enemies to lovers trope, nakedness, voyeurism, mentions of switching suppressants (not Dean)
Words: 600+
SPN Omegaverse Week Masterlist
He will tear you down. For messing with him. For taunting him. For triggering his rut.
Dean Winchester is on a hunt. He’s hunting a dangerous enemy. The evil hiding behind a friendly smile and boobs.
“I will kill her,” he all but growls while storming toward the dungeon. Dean and his brother found you in the middle of a fight with three alphas. You were about to rip their clothes off their bodies to forcefully mate them. “She triggered my fucking rut.”
The hunter cups his aching crotch. He’s walking around with a raging hard-on since he saw you throw punches at three strong and tall alphas.
The alpha couldn’t help but admire your graceful fighting style, even while you were out of your mind, you looked like you performed only for him.
“Dean, what are you…” Sam stops in his tracks. He can smell the rut on his brother, and backpaddles. The hunter is by all means not a coward, but his brother in a rut is more than dangerous. It’s a death sentence. Especially with an omega in heat around. “I knew it was a mistake to bring her here.”
“Stay out of my way,” Dean grits his teeth. He flexes his muscles and snarls in his brother’s direction. “I’ll get rid of that omega.”
“I can see that,” Sam follows the motion of Dean’s hand. The alpha cups his crotch and rubs himself through his pants. “I think your alpha has other plans for her. You need to go back to your room and leave Y/N alone. It’s not her fault that some douchebag she trusted switched her suppressants with vitamins.”
“What?” Dean cocks his head.
“Before she passed out,” Sam sighs, “Y/N told me about the hunter she teamed up with, and that he switched her suppressants. He wanted an obedient and needy omega around. You know, someone to knot when he feels the need.”
Dean can barely think straight with his rut clawing its way to the front, but he makes a mental note to kill the hunter if he ever meets him again. Today, he won’t be able to do so. Not with your scent driving up the walls, and the problem in his pants.
“I’ll take care of him later,” he growls the words. “Stay away from the dungeon, and her.” Dean gives his brother a warning snarl.
“DEAN!”
Sam can only watch his brother storm toward the dungeon.
He always tried to get you and Dean together. You’re a perfect match. He just doesn’t want you to mate while being in a rut and heat…
“OMEGA!” Dean pants heavily when he finally walks inside the dungeon. You refused to sleep in one of the rooms and made a makeshift bed on the ground. You’re currently rubbing your aching sex against one of his pillows, humping it for dear life. “FUCK!”
Dean’s eyes darken while watching you pleasure yourself, using one of his pillows. “Go away!” You snarl and move even faster. “I need…I want…”
He dips his head, only watching you hump the pillow. Dean smells your slick, and your sweet scent.
“Stop that!” He orders, using his alpha voice. You’re a strong-willed omega, but even you cannot fight his alpha order. Dean is your true mate, and his call is even stronger.
You stiffen and stop moving at all. Your head tilts on its own to reveal your untouched mating gland to the angry alpha.
He grits his teeth and snarls, but you can’t do anything about it.
Dean steps closer, his eyes trained on your mating gland. He hums in appreciation, but a cocky grin tugs on the corners of his lips. “If only I knew I could make you shut up using my alpha voice.”
Your eyes follow Dean’s every move. He smirks when you try to growl at him.
“What do we do about that behavior,” he purrs, and steps closer to run his fingertips over your exposed back. “I love your submissive behavior but…” Dean crouches down next to you to whisper in your ear. “I want you to unleash the beast, sweetheart. Let go…”
Tear you down (2)
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#dean winchester#dean x reader#dean winchester fanfic#spnomegaverseweek2024#alpha!dean winchester#omega!reader#a/b/o#implied smut#Tear you down
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ONE OF THE BEST AUTHORS ON THIS PLATFORM.
I have a request is there any way you could do the “I’ve never met anyone as infuriating as you, and I can’t stop thinking about you" prompt but with Zoro. Having a female reader just recently joined the crew only for them to be enemies. Both of them have a history of being enemies and now the whole crew sees them fight so the other is 5ft feet under. Only for them to be confused as to why their heart beats like crazy around each other.
Would really appreciate it if you did my request! 🥰🙏
Thank you so much for your kind words @mars-mizuko and @beachaddict48 🥰🥰 I love reading your reactions to my little silly stories and I tried my hardest to make you happy with this request! It turned out a bit bigger than the others, but I don't want to limit myself with the story I want to tell and I've accepted that some requests will have bigger fics than others! I do sincerely hope you enjoy this! Thank you for participating in the event and for all of your support!
Source for Pic
Backstabber
Word Count: 3637
Tags: fem!reader; enemies to lovers; suggestive content; implied sex; cursing; sexual tension; idiots in love;
Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.
Summary: You never thought you'd meet the infamous bounty hunter Roronoa Zoro again after four years apart. Yet here you are, part of his crew, and all he wants is to get rid of you.
|Masterlist|
“No, Luffy.”
Two words. Just two words and I already want to rip his head off his shoulders. This is gonna be great!
“Why?” Luffy cocks his head to the side, his pinky reaching inside his nose in search of the annoyance there.
“Shut up, Mosshead!” Sanji growls, his face close to Zoro’s closed-off expression. “Luffy, yes. She would be the most wonderful addition to our crew.”
Aw, see, the cook’s nice!
“She’s not trustworthy.” The swordsman has both his eyes closed but you can see the way his jaw ticks as he tries to keep his emotions at bay.
“Ditto, Roronoa, yet I just helped save your ass.” You bite back. Two can play the accusation game. It’s actually been four years since the last time you saw Roronoa Zoro. He was skinnier then, less… bulk. Still the same asshole, though.
His eye snaps open and you notice yet another difference. He’s more dangerous, ruthless, and predatory. “Measure your words, Backstabber. I’m not the same man I was four years ago.”
You inch forward, squaring your shoulders and measuring up to his height, even if you can’t reach it. “It’s too bad I am not the same woman I was four years ago, either.”
Nami and Robin watch the interaction with veiled smirks. Sanji is seething and being restrained by Franky to prevent him from attacking Zoro for speaking rudely to a lady.
“Welcome her in, Luffy.” Robin says with a hint of amusement in her voice.
“I’d say she fits right in, Cap.” Nami says with a chuckle.
And just like that, you’re welcomed into the most dysfunctional pirate crew you’ve ever met.
-*-
You and Zoro don’t like each other. Period. There’s no truce, there isn’t even a semblance of a fake peace. It’s an all-out conflict between the two of you and the Sunny has become an active warzone.
“I don’t want you anywhere near my space, Backstabber!”
“You don’t own the ship, Roronoa!”
Nami accepts the refreshment Sanji brings her and sighs, tilting her head up to where the two of you are bickering. You just wanted to train and shake away inertia, and the crow’s nest is where the barbells are.
But nooo, Mr. Salty claims that this is his space! As if he fucking owns the ship.
“LUFFY!” You both yell out the window trying to get your captain to resolve your issue this time.
“It’s been a week.” Robin says weakly from her perch on the lawn chair.
“I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” Nami whispers back to her.
“Guys, make it stop, they’re so loud!” Chopper whines as he cuddles in Robin’s lap.
Luffy, bless him, doesn’t even move from his spot, so you sigh, pushing your index finger and thumb against the bridge of your nose trying to contain the massive migraine threatening to settle behind your eyes.
“Look here, Roronoa, we have to make this work. Whether we like it or not, we are now Nakama and-...”
“I could never be your Nakama!” He hisses, dropping the barbell near his feet with the loudest thud imaginable. Sweat drips from his hair and runs down his temples, making the vein there glisten as it throbs menacingly. His (big, muscular, defined) chest heaves from barely contained rage and you force your eyes to settle back on his face because, somehow, the sight of his sweaty, glistening pecs turns you hot and bothered for reasons that have nothing to do with anger.
“Well boo-freaking-hoo. Learn to deal with it, will you? You’re a big boy.” You say slowly, emphasising each word with a step in his direction. You’re taken aback by your closeness when his scent envelops you and dazes you in more ways than one.
It’s familiar and comforting: steel, salt, sweat…
But it’s also intoxicating and dangerous and new…
Fuck.
-*-
It’s only been one week and Zoro is ready to throw you overboard. Too bad you don’t have a devil fruit or he could watch you sink without a hint of remorse. That being the case, it would just be funny as hell to watch you get pissed off at him while soaking wet.
Wet like you are now.
He found you in the middle of your workout in his crow’s nest using his training equipment in his space. You’d been there long enough for sweat to make your hair cling to your forehead, for your top to turn a darker shade and cling sinfully to your curves, and for your sweet scent to mingle with his sanctuary, making his head spin.
Zoro feels like growling, though he’s not sure if he’s growling for the right reasons.
And now you’re approaching him with fearless steps, your finger pointing at him accusingly, while your lusciously plump lips form words: ‘boo-freaking-hoo’. And all he can think about is how your lips would feel wrapped around his cock.
“Get the fuck out.” He growls for real this time and you stop pacing. He knows he’s giving off a dangerous aura and he means it. Because his heart is doing some freaking weird shit he doesn’t want to dissect right now and he needs you out of his sight.
Immediately.
It’s a good thing you obey and scurry out - still pissed and calling him all sorts of names, though - because the strain in his pants was about to force him to bend you over the nearest surface and have his way with you.
And he definitely can’t do that.
-*-
Eventually, with mediation from Robin and Franky, you and Zoro settle on a schedule for using the crow’s nest to train. It’s not so hard, since Zoro spends half the morning and afternoon napping, leaving you plenty of time for your daily workout.
“Why do you and Zoro hate each other?” Chopper asks innocently during lunch, and the table falls into an awkward silence. No one tries to change the subject since everyone’s curious.
A heavy sigh escapes your lips as memories from the past come rushing back. You and Zoro used to bounty hunt together. You met randomly while tracking the same wanted pirate. After beating the pirate’s crew and helping each other out, you split the bounty and became friends.
From then on, the friendship blossomed. Zoro had an easier laugh before, he wasn’t so guarded, so closed off.
Did I cause him to be like that?
You bonded. Actually, so much more than that, you were head over heels for him. The whole works: stomach aflutter with butterflies, fireworks exploding behind closed eyelids, a drum instead of a heart.
And then there was a misunderstanding. You got a tip about a small-time fry, barely 6k berries, hardly worth your time. But the asshole was harassing a town and you knew you could take him alone. Zoro was collecting a previous bounty so you didn’t even tell him where you were going.
Turns out the fry wasn’t easy or small. It was huge. It was 16k, not 6k, and he was a tough nut to crack. You could’ve used Zoro’s strength, but you managed. Scraped, bruised but prideful. When you went to collect, intending to share the bounty with him, Zoro was beyond angry. He found out where you’d gone and assumed you’d gone behind his back to collect the bounty and the fame for yourself.
Things escalated. You fell out with each other.
Over a freaking misunderstanding.
You were stubborn as fuck. And you soon found out he was equally stubborn, if not more. So here you were. Still mad at each other over something that had happened more than four years ago.
“We just don’t get along, Chopper. We used to be friends, and then… we stopped.”
Zoro’s glass nearly shatters with the force he uses to set it down on the table. “Bullshit, Backstabber.”
“Stop calling me that, asshole.”
“Guys, guys, you’re at the table…” Franky starts.
“Backstabber? Why? You went behind my back and collected a huge bounty without telling me. That sounds like backstabbing to me!”
“You didn’t even let me explain!” You rise, palms slapping against the wood, causing your water glass to turn and spill.
“What was there to explain? How you got greedy? How you abandoned me without a word? Because that shit stung more than the fucking bounty!”
You gasp and take a step back, grasping the underlying hurt in his words. Abandoned him…? Is that what he thinks happened?
“I… I never meant to abandon you…” Lowering your eyes, you sense the crew shifting uncomfortably under your words.
Zoro is silent.
Just as you raise your head to meet his eyes, a cannon blast shakes the ship, forcing the crew outside to battle an oncoming enemy.
-*-
In the heat of the battle, all animosities are forgotten. You and Zoro move as one, even after four years apart, you can still fight back to back as you used to. It’s both exhilarating and overwhelming.
Zoro still hasn’t calmed the frenzied rhythm of his heart. You had claimed you never meant to abandon him. Were you speaking the truth? Because, as far as he knew, you had chosen to leave him behind, collect the big bounty and disappear from his life without ever looking back.
That had been the biggest disappointment he'd faced in a long while. After four years, he thought you were part of his past. No longer a constant presence in his mind, or worse, in his dreams.
You were gone, and good riddance.
What were the chances of him meeting you again in the Grand Line, anyway?
The Marines attacking the Straw Hats are predictably weak, but there are many of them and Zoro is distracted by the earlier conversation. Apparently, so are you, because there’s no way in hell four-years-ago-you would’ve let that attack slip through your defences, let alone now-you.
Zoro grunts and slices through the three Marines in front of him to reach the bastard pinning you against the Sunny’s wall. His sword blade pressed to your throat, your arm laying limp and bloodied, rendered useless for the rest of the fight.
“I’m gonna count to three and before I fucking reach two, you’d better have let go of her and be out of my fucking sight, or you’ll lose your limbs one by one to my blades. Starting with that hand.” He growls as he notices the Marine pressing his hand against your chest to keep you pinned to the wall.
-*-
Fuck, that was hot.
How can your heart be racing this fast when you’re facing possible death at the hands of a freaking weak Marine? You have no idea how you got into this position. You know how to fight better than any of these army fools!
You were distracted, dumbass.
Yeah, you were distracted. You were thinking about the possibilities and the what-ifs of four years ago, if only you had spoken to Zoro before he thought you abandoned him. And all that thinking got you pinned to the wall with an injured arm and a blade to your throat.
“One…” Zoro starts counting and you hold your breath. You’ve seen him fight, the Marine better run. “Two…”
His voice is eerily calm, but the intensity of his words leaves no room for argument. He’s dangerous, he’s lethal, and he’s not playing games.
Even though the Marine drops you unceremoniously and starts to run, you know he isn't getting far. The manic grin on Zoro’s face just before he slashes the Marine makes the critters in your belly flutter and dance all at once.
Fuck.
Zoro did start with his hand.
-*-
“She’s fine!” Chopper exclaims as he steps out of the infirmary with a wide smile, his hoof clasping your uninjured hand as you join your Nakama by the galley. The crew receives you with cheers and you feel a bit ashamed. You wanted to prove your worth but the battle didn’t go the way you meant it to. Still, none of them make you feel unworthy.
Robin fusses over you, Luffy tries to hug you before Nami stops him with a punch, Usopp is already retelling the tale of the thousand Marines who attacked you and Sanji glides to your side with a refreshment and amiable words, worried, anxious and happy you’re safe.
And that’s where Zoro draws the line. “Can we talk?” His gruff voice rolls over you like a caress, and you bite the inside of your cheek trying to snap out of it.
“Yeah.” You follow him to the crow’s nest unsure of what he wants to say. The entire walk is wrapped in piercing silence, tension hanging like a thick fog. Once you arrive, you’re too wound up to sit, so you start pacing.
“Explain.” He says, apparently too wound up to sit as well.
The fuck?
“Explain what?”
“What you meant at lunch.”
You try to cross your arms over your chest, but the injured limb is still out of action so, instead, you place your good hand on your hip and stamp your foot. “Listen, honey,” you mock, “you better start using your big boy words because I’m not going to play riddles with you and-...”
Your sentence is cut short when he takes two strides forward, forcing you to step back until you collide with the training bars. Zoro’s face is inches from yours and the ticking in his jaw is back.
His eye pins yours, and your legs wobble under the intensity of his stare. “I’ve never met anyone as infuriating as you,” he drawls, slamming his hand against the bars beside your face. “And I can’t stop thinking about you.”
The world spins as you suck in a breath, trying to understand his words. What does he mean?
“I can’t stop thinking about your lips…” His thumb presses against your lower lip, tracing it roughly. “I can’t stop thinking about kissing your neck.” His lips brush against the pulse on your neck, teeth nibbling and pinching. “I can’t stop thinking about you… squirming under me!”
Zoro’s hand gropes the flesh of your hip, his fingers sinking in, pulling a soft moan from your lips. “Tell me to stop.” He whispers, his tongue tracing your earlobe with sinful licks. “Fuck. Just say the words.”
Your head falls back against the bars in abandon as his hand drops from your hips, fingers inching under the waistband of your jeans.
“Don’t stop.” You sigh.
And he doesn’t.
-*-
“I didn’t abandon you.” You’re still in bliss after the moment you just shared. You had thought about this, fantasied, dreamed, imagined… every possible variation of what just happened. But it was still better. “I didn’t know the pirate had a 16k berries bounty. I thought it was 6k. I was going to take care of him, call it a day and meet you to collect the bounty.”
Zoro’s still, his chest still heaving slightly, sweat clinging sinfully to where your mouth had been moments ago.
“But then you left, thinking I betrayed you, without giving me a chance to explain before disappearing from my life.” Your legs are still shaking and aching. Zoro was brutal and intense. And you loved every second of it.
“Well that makes sense…” He says as his expression softens.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your disbelief makes you face him with a scowl and bared teeth.
“Look at how much fun we could’ve been having for four years instead of hating each other. My bad, I guess!” His cheeky grin only makes you seethe more and you scramble to your feet to collect your clothes and leave him there.
“Unbelievable! You’re an ass, Zoro.” You state as you open the hatch to leave him and his smugness behind.
“Meet me later?”
The blush spreads from your cheeks to your nose and then to your ears as you face him. If looks could kill, he’d be a dead man. You show him the middle finger before closing the hatch. “After dinner in this spot. Be naked and don’t be late. Asshole.”
Roronoa Zoro used to be a friend, then an enemy, then a Nakama… now you can’t deny all the fluttering in your belly when he looks at you. But the fluttering’s fine. You can live with that, it’s actually exhilarating.
It’s the frenzied beating of your heart that you have a problem with. That, and the clenching in your chest when you and Zoro gaze at each other.
That’s what scares you.
-*-
Dinner that evening is the tensest meal you’ve had on the Sunny since joining the crew. On the outside everything looks normal. Luffy is eating from everybody’s plate, Sanji is fawning over Nami, Robin and you, and Usopp is entertaining the table with how he single-handedly defeated one hundred marines in the fight you had earlier.
But every time you glance at Zoro, he’s pinning you under his gaze, an infuriating smirk lifting the corner of his lips as he downs an entire bottle of sake. You try your damn hardest to focus on the food in front of you instead of letting your mind revisit the most mind-shattering and intense moment of your life.
Nami asks if you’re alright and you weakly respond with a yes, saying that you’re just tired from the fight, but you don’t miss her curious expression when she catches the way Zoro is staring at you. Fuck. If he doesn’t stop doing that, he might as well wear a sign on his forehead saying you just had sex.
Bastard.
Zoro leaves first and after helping Sanji clear the plates - even if he vehemently refuses your help - you make your way up to the crow’s nest. You told Zoro to be waiting naked, but you’re actually having second thoughts. Has he forgiven you for what happened four years ago? Have you forgiven him for not even wanting to hear your explanations?
You’re not even sure if you’re friends, acquaintances, enemies or something else entirely. And that needs to be settled.
Taking a deep steadying breath before opening the hatch, you brace yourself for whatever is coming, but you can’t help a small squeak from escaping your lips as you see Zoro waiting for you, bare-chested, cross-legged and leaning up against the bars.
“You’re late, Backstabber.”
“Your pants are still on, Mr. Salty.”
He chuckles and the sound makes your heart skip a beat weirdly. Should you talk to Chopper about this? It seems like something you should worry about.
Zoro moves away from the bars and takes a step your way, that smug grin tilting his lips in an endearing way. “You want them off that bad?”
You take another step back, though your legs feel like jelly. “Smug asshole.”
He doesn’t answer you with a cheeky reply and his lips turn into a thin line again. That same closed-off expression he had when you first joined and now it seems like the step back you took was a step back in… whatever this is.
“Look…” He says your name while scratching the back of his head. “I’m sorry. About the way things ended between us all that time ago. It seems silly to still be upset about it, especially now that you’ve explained yourself.”
You nod, agreeing and there’s a lightness to your chest that wasn’t there before. A sort of closure to that chapter of your lives, something you’ve carried with you even if you were unaware of it.
“Also,” he continues as he takes another step forward. This time you don’t back away. “About what I said the other day - about us not being Nakama - I didn’t mean it that way.” He sighs and reaches for your wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle. “I was just angry.”
“Are you still angry?” You ask, your breath catching slightly in your throat.
Zoro’s finger brushes the inside of your wrist, absentmindedly. “I don’t even know.” He lets out a sigh that resembles a grunt and tugs at your wrist, pulling you to him. “But I know I can’t go another day without you, let alone four years.”
Your heart skips another beat as his words sink in, and this time it continues to beat in this weird staccato rhythm. “Then don’t…” You finally murmur, pressing yourself against him, feeling the heat of his skin against your fingers.
He grins again, that shit-eating grin he used to give you back when things were still fine. “Good.” He drawls out as he pinches your chin and crashes his lips against yours in a desperate claim. His touch electrifies you and tingles in places it shouldn’t, lighting you up from within and making you feel more alive than ever.
-*-
Time passes and something shifts. The crew notices it since you bicker less. You’re pretty sure Nami and Robin know what is going on between the both of you, though they don’t say anything. But it should be a dead giveaway since you’re ‘training’ together now instead of sticking to your separate training schedule.
You still argue on a daily basis, though now there’s an underlying understanding that wasn’t there before. You’re not arguing out of past sorrows, hurt, or unresolved conflict. You’re arguing because it’s just your nature. And you notice that there’s something deeper in your connection. Those skipped beats of your heart, that fluttering in your belly… Those are all part of something far more intense that you don’t want to name yet. But you realise that there’s no rush in naming whatever you have. You have time.
Because Zoro might still call you ‘Backstabber’ with an annoyingly smug smirk, and you might call him ‘Mr. Salty’ with equal fervour now and again, but at the end of the day, you’re both exactly where you want to be: right beside each other.
Tag list: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi
#one piece#one piece x reader#x reader#op#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro roronoa x reader#roronoa zoro#reader insert#reader x zoro#you x zoro#zoro x you#birthday event
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Ao3 seems fixed, but just in case, here is my old fic "Rest and Rebirth" in its entirety. [ link to it on ao3 ] TW: Pain and injury.
CHAPTER ONE Dean wasn't sure when this started, whatever this was. He supposed it had been a few months ago. Probably a few years ago, but they really took a step in recent history. They hadn't attempted to put words to it. Honestly they didn't talk about it much at all. It just sort of evolved naturally.
The hunter was no stranger to nightmares, and he was pretty sure the things he had seen would drive a normal man crazy. Four years old, he was dreaming of his mother burning on the ceiling. Then monsters. Losing Sammy. Losing his father. 40 years of hell. They stepped up a solid notch after the Mark of Cain, his stint as a demon doing nothing to help. They intensified after Michael took control and wore his face to a monster slaughter. Jack dying somehow made them even worse.
It took a while, but they built. Time was, a bottle of hunter's helper before bed could buy him most of a night's rest, but even that stopped working, and upping the intake was unsustainable in the long run. So he had muddled through. His drinking habit could buy him a few hours at least, and then he'd just white knuckle it until morning.
At some point, he started waking up to Cas standing over his bed, in a proper nod to old times.
"Cas, we talked about this…"
"You prayed to me in your sleep."
"I…" He looked up groggily "What?" He shook his head. "Got some wires crossed there bud. Sorry to bother you."
It wasn't isolated to that instance. Every time he woke up with a scream threatening to rip from his lips, there Cas was. He had given up hovering, and usually was found on a chair, turned from the desk.
"Don't you have anything better to do than watch me sleep?"
"No."
Dean had to admit, it was becoming sort of comforting. He'd wake in a panic, and he started to look for the angel, taking for granted he would be there. In a new turn of events, after calming down he started to sometimes manage to find sleep again, even after waking from the depths of hellish visions. He would never admit it out loud, but he liked the safety he felt when Cas was around. Cas must've known, because he kept showing up.
Eventually Cas started sitting with Dean during his nightly routine of drinking before bed. They'd start in the library, and then when he worried their conversations would bother Sam's sleep, they'd move to his room. Cas was starting to open up to being more conversational, more talkative than he used to be. Dean appreciated the time spent, keeping his mind off the impending night's sleep. Cas would leave when Dean looked ready to sleep, but he'd always be back by the time the hunter woke in a cold sweat.
It took another couple weeks before Cas just didn't leave. He'd settle into a chair, and they'd spend time until Dean passed out. They didn't even necessarily talk any more. Sometimes Dean would listen to music, leafing through a magazine, and Cas would watch something on the laptop. Dean would inevitably drift off, and wake to find Cas before drifting off again. He found the dreams more and more manageable, and much to Cas' unspoken pleasure, he found his nightly drinking had become less necessary, and easier to cut back on.
The night after a particularly hard hitting hunt, Dean found himself suffering something of a relapse. Something stirring in his mind, he couldn't let go of. Instead of his now common startle waking up, he shot out of sleep, hand pulling the gun he kept under his pillow, his breath caught in his throat making him sure he would choke to death. He looked to his right, and the chair was empty, Cas gone, and that only made his chest tighten more.
He almost shot the angel when a hand touched his left shoulder, and he turned, wild eyed to come face to face with Castiel. Cas was sitting on the edge of his bed, hands up as if trying to calm a wild animal. His face was stricken with concern, and Dean slowly lowered his weapon.
"Cas?"
"You were screaming."
The hunter started to catch his breath, and finally managed the mental control to shove the firearm back under his pillow. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting up and trying to ground himself. He rubbed his face and head, taking a deep breath and reminding himself he was in his room and safe.
Cas remained perfectly still, not daring to touch the hunter for fear of startling him, but not wanting to move away either.
"Fuck." Dean said simply, leaning back to collapse onto his bed again, feeling thoroughly drained and more than a little shaken. He blindly reached for his night stand, hoping to catch his whiskey bottle and take a swig to take the edge off, but he brought back a water bottle instead. He forgot that at some point Cas had made a habit of switching the two bottles while he slept. He paused, but decided to just go with it, taking a sip and somehow still feeling a little better for having done so.
Cas shifted, making to stand and return to his quiet vigil when Dean grabbed his arm, seeming just as surprised as Cas when he did it. Castiel looked down at him, his head tilted, trying to read Dean's expression.
Dean frowned, but he pressed on against his inner doubts. "Stay…." He hesitated. "Please."
Cas didn't say anything, he just settled back, and then, after a moment of uncertainty, he leaned back against the mound of pillows on the bed, laying next to the hunter, facing him.
Dean watched Cas settle in, his expression blank. He wasn't fully sure what to make of this development, but at the moment he was too tired and worked up to process it. But with Cas' presence so close, the hunter managed to find sleep again fairly quickly.
Now at night, there is an unspoken agreement. When Dean Winchester finally settles onto his bed, Castiel takes up his place beside him. Sometimes when Dean wakes their foreheads are just barely touching, or Cas' hand rests on his arm. The proximity is always calming enough that sleep returns to the hunter in a matter of minutes.
Dean isn't sure what he'd call this. It was some sort of love for sure, but unlike than the love he had known in his life. It was nothing like the love for his brother, or Bobby, and so different than the love he had for Lisa. He smiled vaguely as he thought of Charlie, and how she would probably call it his bisexual awakening. He had heard her use that term before, though he didn't think that quite described whatever link he and the angel had managed to build.
Still, he had to admit, there was something. Something he couldn't put words to, but he and Cas never had seemed to struggle with the lack of a label.
For now he chose not to dwell on it, and simply be thankful for the newfound warmth he felt when he slept. CHAPTER 2
Cas listened for the moment Dean's breathing evened out. Usually these days he simply waited beside the hunter, ready to step in and fight back the nightmares in his mind when he sprang awake. Tonight however, Dean would be waking up in the room alone. Cas pulled the letter from his pocket, slipping it out and leaving it folded on the side of the bed, knowing Dean would look over to where he normally was. It was intentionally vague, but it assured Dean he was coming back.
He got up silently and crept over towards the door, looking back over his shoulder one last time before easing it open and slipping through. Once it was silently closed again, Cas could move a little less cautiously as he made his way through the bunker towards the exit. He paused outside the library, listening for any telltale signs Sam was still awake and on his laptop, but after a moment he was relatively sure his exit was unguarded.
The angel slipped behind the wheel of his once-stolen truck, only then allowing himself to hesitate. He opened the small bag he had with him and double checked its contents, making sure he wasn't forgetting anything he might need where he was going. Once satisfied he swallowed, feeling a small tug of uncertainty. It quickly burnt itself out however and Cas started the truck, pulling away from the familiar bunker.
He had spent months agonizing over this decision. He still wasn't sure it was the right one, he just knew it was what he wanted. When Cas finally pulled up to the old farm he had eyed as a nice out of the way place to work, he found himself simply sitting and staring at it, the uncertainty flickering up again for one last round of what-if.
Was it worth risking Dean's life for your own happiness? To risk Sam's?
That was the question. But, he had to remember, that wasn't the right question to ask. Was it worth potentially risking Dean's life for your own happiness? Even more accurate, was it worth potentially being able to simply help Dean less? To help Sam less?
He hadn't made the decision alone. As soon as he finally figured out it could be done, he talked with Sam. He admitted he wanted to let go of his grace, become human once more. He admitted that he feared he was more useful to them as an angel, arguing that it was just safer if he was in possession of his grace. As soon as he made the argument, he had pretty much convinced himself, and he tried to withdraw the question.
Sam was, as usual, persistent they talk it through. They would have several long conversations about it over the next week, more than Cas had talked about any one topic with anyone before. The angel was appreciative of his discretion, and Sam was respectful of his decision not to involve Dean.
He knew the chance to change plans was behind him, and this concern he had now was not going to stop him. He knew how to push through and past fear. He had led an assault on hell when she was at her most guarded. The only person who could talk him out of it was kept out of the loop exactly for this reason.
The soon to be human stepped out of his truck, holding the bag awkwardly as he headed inside the rundown barn. He smiled weakly. Every barn he was in reminded him of meeting Dean face-to-face for the first time. Sure, his angelic form had pulled his soul from the pit, but to stand on the same field, both as men. Or at least, in his case, something resembling men. Fitting that it was also the last place he'd stand as an angel.
He prepared the spell quickly, glad it wasn't overly complex. The ingredients were found in the bunker. Sam had help him build a spell to do what he wanted using books the men of letters had left behind. It wasn't easy. This spell wouldn't simply remove his grace, it would destroy it, every last piece. Sam had worried about the risk to Cas himself, as his body would be effectively human when it was over. He didn't care.
Cas was just finishing the last of the sigil work when his chest clenched. His angelic hearing picked up the familiar rumble of the impala approaching, and he listened with dread when the engine cut. He hoped that by some miracle it was Sam, just making sure all was well, but he knew it wasn't. The barn door opened up and he was faced with the older Winchester. "Hello Dean."
Dean's mouth was set in a line, and Cas found himself having a harder time than usual figuring out what emotions were fighting for space in Dean's head. He was moving slowly, with a deliberate walking pace. "Cas." He said simply, but his tone offered no more clues. He came to stand just a few feet away from the angel.
Castiel found himself frozen, making no move to complete the last of the sigils, no move to put down the brush either. The silence ticked on until he finally chose to break it. "How did you-"
"GPS on your phone." Dean finished. "Got your letter, real specific, thank you."
Alright, so there was a touch of the sarcasm Cas had expected. "Oh." He said simply, not knowing how to reply to the statement directly.
"So, do you need me to give you a second to come up with a lie about why you're out here, or do you have one prepared?"
"Dean-"
"Save it Cas." Dean put his hand up, cutting him off. He took a deep breath, and looked at the ground. "I know why you're out here." He glanced up and frowned again. "I overheard you talking to Sam one night, weeks ago at this point."
"You didn't say anything."
"Figured you would have asked me if you wanted my opinion."
Cas opened his mouth to say something, but Dean put up his hand to silence him again.
"Are you sure it's what you want? Forget Sam and I, are you sure that this is what you want."
"Yes."
"Okay."
Cas stared at him for a moment. "Okay?"
"I trust you." Dean said softly, though Cas could tell he was fighting a war with himself to say that. It wasn't a question of trust, though Dean clearly thought this was a bad idea. But with this blessing, Cas' last doubts evaporated. "What can I do to help?"
"There isn't anything. The sigils will help contain the grace. Normally another angel would need to help draw out the grace, but I cannot ask them. I, of course, will be draining it all, so I will be unable to direct it for long. So I needed to artificially-"
"Okay okay." Dean said dismissively, trying to stop the long overly-detailed explanation Cas was giving.
"The first part of the spell gathers the grace behind this sigil." He indicated one in his chest. "I make the cut, and drop the ingredients into the flame. The angel part of me should burn out."
"Alright."
"You will need to close your eyes. The unshielded grace would easily blind you." Like it had Pamela.
"Will it hurt?"
"You shouldn't feel it if you are far enough away."
"Will it hurt you?" Dean clarified.
"Oh." Cas said softly. "Yes." The appeal of this spell was the totality. There was no way to undo this spell. No other angel's grace could be given, his own grace could never be returned. The pay off for it's permanence was brutality. The grace wasn't simply being cut out, it was being ripped out, and burned. In many ways he was dying to be reborn.
Dean finally frowned, arms crossing as he looked over the sigil work and spell ingredients. He didn't comment for a moment, his mind seeming to process everything so far. For a moment, Castiel thought he was going to abandon his support and try to convince Cas to stop. But he simply gave a curt nod. "Where should I stand?"
"Near the door should be far enough." Cas said, finishing the last strokes of the white paint on the old weathered wood. He knelt in the circle, candle burning, and a smaller satchel of ingredients within reach. He tightened his grip over the angel blade in his hand, and gave a nod to Dean.
The hunter turned his back, and Cas could see his shoulders tense.
Cas recited the first part of the spell, easily sounding out the difficult enochian incantation. The second the last syllable passed his lips, the atmosphere in the barn shifted. The room felt as if it had become electrified. Dean could feel the hair stand up on the back of his neck. He turned and looked out of the corner of his eye, ready to close them in an instant if needed, but Cas was not yet ready to progress. The sight of the shadow of his broken wings surprised Dean. He had caught glimpses before, fleeting, but they showed no sign of fading now as they were clearly reacting to the blatant attack.
With the electricity, Cas could feel his grace begin to move. The power contained within every cell of his vessel came alive at once, and with it came the pain. Castiel had felt pain before. When his wings were scorched with hellfire. When Raphael brought the wrath of heaven down on him. When the leviathan ripped through his body. This was white hot fire being drawn through his very essence, and as much as he thought he was prepared, the pain took him entirely off guard.
Cas set his jaw, trying to turn the knife, trying to redirect it towards his chest, trying to fight through the pain. He fumbled, and the blade clattered to the ground. He reached down, trying to pick it up again. His fingers brushed over the knife, trying desperately to get his hands to obey him and close around the hilt. He felt the hand close over his and he reacted violently, trying to pull away. "No Dean." He hissed through clenched teeth. "You're going to get hurt…"
"You need help." Dean said firmly.
"My grace… my wings… they're going to burn right through-" Cas couldn't get the words out, but he knew Dean understood. He was horrified when the grip only tightened over his hand, slipping the blade out of his hold.
"I know." Was the only response he got.
Cas weakly tried one last time to pull the knife from Dean, to push him away, but his body was weakening under the strain of the grace threatening to tear through his chest. He felt one strong hand on his shoulder, holding him steady. He looked up in time to see those green eyes close as Dean pushed the knife forward just a little.
The energy released from the tiny cut knocked both men back from each other. Dean went flying across the room and Cas rolled, almost falling out of the set of runes and sigils. The light streamed from him, gathering and pooling around him. Cas couldn't help but scream as the liquid fire flooded through his body and out into the world around him. He tried to force himself to move past the pain, scrambling for grip to pull himself up towards the candle, towards the ingredients for the last part of the spell…
Strong arms grabbed him again, coming from behind him. He looked up with fear, but Dean had his eyes shielded against the light. He reached blindly past Cas, grabbing the satchel. He propped the angel up in his arms, prepared to drop the contents into the small flame. Cas knew it was pointless to fight him, and he was too weak to reasonably try. So instead he mumbled the enochian spell, and let his head fall back against Dean when he was done. Dean tossed the spell ingredients into the flame.
The grace grew with intensity and surrounded Cas. He felt the moment his wings caught alight, and he could feel more than hear Dean cry out in pain behind him. The noise built until it was a deafening roar, and Cas too had to close his eyes against the blinding light.
Then as quickly as it had built, it was over. The room was unnaturally quiet and dark. The candle was long extinguished, as well as the lantern Cas had brought, leaving only the moon glinting into the barn to light it's walls.
Cas still lay panting in Dean's arms, unable to even lift his head. Dean slid down to lay next to him, still holding an arm around the angel, keeping him grounded as tears ran down his face. It was done. He was human. Or at least as human as he was ever going to be.
They didn't talk or move for close to an hour. At some point Cas had drifted off, completely spent from the physical toll the spell took. When he woke there was sunlight streaming through the barn, and he could hear the deeper breathing of the unconscious hunter behind him.
He rolled, extracting himself from the heavy dead weight of Dean's arm. He heard the hunter wake, and met green eyes when he finally managed to look.
Cas winced as he saw the scene around him. The barn looked as if a small bomb had gone off, a clear blast ring around them. The hay and debris that had littered the floor was pushed back to the far corners, propelled by the force of the spell. Right where Cas had been propped up, scorched into the wood was an almost perfect imprint of his angel wings. The only part not visible on the floor was the burnt outline of the feathers that was clearly across the hunter's torso.
Cas closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He had wanted to do it alone, wanted Dean away and safe. Dean had come to help only to immediately get hurt from his recklessness. He could have ditched the phone, could have gone further from the bunker, could have done any number of things…
"It's okay." came the gruff voice, and Cas opened his eyes again to look into Dean's. "I'm okay."
Cas slid a tentative and shaking hand across the floor, coming to rest gently on Dean's collar bone, withdrawing immediately when the hunter winced.
"It will heal." Dean insisted.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm not."
Pain reflected across the former angel's eyes. Dean would bear these scars forever. "I didn't want you to get hurt."
"I didn't want you to do this alone."
Cas finally let his body relax, letting the floor hold him up completely. He was entirely physically and emotionally spent. He didn't protest when Dean finally got the strength to stand and help him up. He didn't argue when Dean led him to the passenger side of the impala. He didn't say anything as they drove away from his truck. He simply allowed it to happen.
Because this was what he wanted. And he was now absolutely sure it had been the right choice.
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Wait, wasn't it just last week Alan wanted everyone at his house because danger? It's not less dangerous now that you tried to get Kim out, y'know.
Lol, Charlie knows your body pretty well too Babe.
Omg, not Winner & Dean having matching umbrella ladies.
I'm making it canon in my head that the two umbrella ladies hook up when Winner & Dean hook up.
Oh, poor Babe, he doesn't deserve this. My heart.
Dammit, I know Charlie isn't really dead, not in a romance like this, and this is still making me cry!!!
Have to say, outside of having my heart ripped out, I do love the physical comfort that Sonic, North, & Alan are all giving Babe.
I like when men in dramas show easy affection with their friends.
Jeff: I sure feel bad that Babe is hurting so much because of our plan. Also Jeff: this is my shot to fuck that old man.
Kim!!!! My baby!!!!
Lol, of course no one rescued him. This crew of idiots. At least they're kind. And now he's family! The X-Hunter crew has just had a giant leap in collective intelligence.
Ha, Alan joining the "man immediately up for lifetime commitment" club.
Also his reaction after Jeff's little kiss is so adorable!
Dammit, why are both Pavel and Nut so good at crying!? It hurts!
Dean, you dick. I knew were an inadequate little shit, but seriously.
And he's still whining about appreciation when he just TRIED TO MURDER BABE. Guess Winner can visit him in prison to kick start their romance!
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Yay you're anwering asks again! Which seem to be old ones lol.
On the idea of mer Jonawagon where Jonathan is the human and Speedwagon is the merman, perhaps the rest of the Ogre Street gang could be mers as well, living in tightly-knit pods like orcas and coming into conflict with seagoers who see them as "monsters"? And with Jonathan as a human Dio would make a great human antagonist too, perhaps being a hunter of the mers who despises Jonathan for empathizing with them.
Perhaps Jonathan's meeting with them could play out like it did in canon PB, with them initially attacking him as an intruder to their turf before he shows mercy and kindness to their leader, thus earning their friendship.
Last one seemed to be from a couple weeks ago, but there are a lot that are a year old or more…. (sorry!!! bad brain has been an absolute bitch all of 2024 so far)
I really like your idea nonny!! I feel like the Ogre Street guys don't get the love and appreciation they deserve and I'm more than happy to be able to include them in these AUs too! I like the idea of them all being a gang still. They already have some intimidating appearances in the og, and that would definitely add to their mer versions as well. Seagoers would think of them at monsters at first sight, especially if they aren't familiar with merpeople or other "non-conventional" sea creatures, I'm sure 😔️ They -along with Speedwagon- would probably be outcasts on land at best (probably back at home too if they happen to be criminals or other types of "pariah"), and I think that could add to their bond with Jonathan, who thinks of them as friends (and more, in Speedwagon's case of course 🤭️💕️).
Idk if this idea was thought to be part of the Sailor Jona/Mer Speedwagon scenario?? But if so, then we can mesh both ideas and have Jona and Spw meet the way mentioned in the other post. They start getting to know each other and maybe arrange to meet again near land in the next port the ship is scheduled to visit.
The day comes and it so happens that Speedwagon's gang is hanging around that area before either Spw or Jonathan get there, not knowing about Spw's new human friend. Jonathan is the first one to show up at the meeting spot by the shoreline (and away from privy eyes, in the case of a universe where merpeople are not common knowledge? idk). Dear Jojo even brought some trinkets and things he thought Spw might find interesting and that no one onboard will miss. That's when Spw's gang notice him and jump into action, not only because he's entering their domains, but also because they have eyed those trinkets and want to rip them away from him. A fight ensues then. As limited as my knowledge on merfolk is, I'm pretty sure they are way stronger than humans (correct me if I'm wrong please!). I'm also guessing there would be no hamon in this AU, and so it's very likely that Jonathan would be overpowered eventually despite his superhuman strength from the og (can't imagine Jonathan not being buff and built like a brickwall, so he keeps his og massive size and frame). It's right there when Speedwagon shows up and scolds and shouts at his friends to leave the man alone. He was reaching the spot when he saw everything as it started going down, making him rush over to them as fast as he could. Spw's friends realize they kinda fucked up and apologize, helping Jonathan up and back on his feet. The idea kinda breaks my heart, but maybe some of the trinkets got broken during the confrontation and now Jonathan feels bad about it, although, he's happy that Speedwagon saved him from what would have very likely been a much worse outcome.
And of course Speedwagon is moved, not only by Jonathan's kindness since he really was under no obligation or whatever to bring him anything, and yet he did, but he's also moved by that faintest of pouts on Jojo's lips upon seeing what just happened to the little presents he brought for Speebs. Being mostly outcasts, I'm sure neither Spw or his friends are used to show or being shown love in any of its forms outside of their little group, so it comes as a surprise even to Speedwagon himself when he pulls Jonathan into a hug to make him feel better and stop worrying about the now broken presents. All this surprises Spw's gang too for the previously stated reasons, but it is clear to them now that their boss sees something special in that man and that, judging by his gesture of bringing him a present, he seems to be genuine in his intentions, and so they ease up on him, genuinely apologizing for the incident and what they have unknowingly caused. They are all wary of humans due to past bad experiences, but Jonathan continues to prove over time that he's someone they can fully trust and rely on, and so Speebs and his gang often follow him closely during his journeys across the sea.
#hopefully all my yapping made some sense lol#i love the ogre street gang so much you guys have no idea#nnngggghhhhhhh#thank you so much for the ask!!#jjba#merman speedwagon#speedwagon#speedguapo#jonathan joestar#phantom blood#(?#ogre street gang#also ftr: i will be using the names given to tattoo and kenpo in the musical as their names in any future asks involving them#hat lad will remain as hat lad since he still has no official name tho :(
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i feel like if i ever released my notes for CADAVER ppl would really realize how fucking unhinged i was writing that whole thing like. its actually buck wild. Honestly i'll go ahead and post it for funsies cuz I think getting to see the ideas n stuff behind ppl's work is cool, so someone out there will probably appreciate this.
some fun behind the scenes notes about it under the read more if you're interested in a mad man's ranting
my notes about what aspects of Vincent/Cid should stay the same and what parts i felt were fine to mess with.
originally i was gonna lean WAY more into Vincent being a traditional vampire rather than a horrible amalgamation of man and demon, to the point he would just straight up be hunting n whatever. I scrapped that in favor of just making him mostly immortal and can eat/drink regular stuff for fun but wants to feed off of Cid cuz bloodlust and also regular lust
i literally kept rewriting the Vague Overarching plot of Cadaver and then randomly, in the middle of the document put 'Vampire Vincent x Hunter Cid' as if this would fucking mean ANYTHING to me later. I think I was literally half asleep when i put that in. It's hilarious. I don't know why it's there or that far down. Also this was me trying to decide how close to Red Snow I wanted it to be, and originally it was gonna be Pretty Fuckin Close but I scrapped that.
hilarious that "THINGS FOR SURE" first plot point wasnt even fuckin used lmao. Also originally Vin was gonna be turned into a vampire AND THEN had chaos implanted, rather than chaos being the thing to turn him. wack. I dont even remember writing that.
i need yall to know i saw a fucking dragon outfit for fli/ght ri/sing that literally permanently altered the course of Cadaver. I'm not kidding. Someone had a cool dragon outfit preset thing for a deadzone investigator and it inspired me so much I changed Cid's profession to that. Seriously.
im so mad i wasn't able to use that stellar fucking line i cooked up at the bottom, but yall get to see it now. but yeah originally the presentation was gonna Actually Be A Presentation and then i realized 'i dont want to fucking write that, that's boring as shit' so I didn't. also i ended up making rufus way more hands-off cuz i just. dont know his character that well and didnt want to start in the middle of a huge plotfic thats not about him
these are dead ass all my notes for Cadaver. like. that's it. no chapter by chapter set up or plan or anything like that. I literally wrote about 2000 words of rambling notes, went 'yeah thats good enough' and ripped out a 63k word fic in like 3 weeks. i dont know. i dont know. its crazy.
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I just posted the sequel to All Gone (But Aching Misery)! The sequels title is A Crown of Sorrow (And a Ring of Rage) and you can read it here!
These fics are DP x DC crossovers about Danny being thrust into the role of King while still grieving the loss of his family. With two wars, relationships, paperwork, and Clockwork’s riddles, Danny is forced to set his grief to the side as he carries the responsibility of High King of The Infinite Realms.
Here’s a sneak peek of chapter one of A Crown of Sorrow (And a Ring of Rage)!
__—_____________________—__
Flashes of bombs and planes surround Wonder Woman as she fights her way through no man's land.
-
She must get to Steve, she can spot him waiting for her in the distance. Calling to her. Gun turrets fire rapidly at her as she blocks them with her gauntlets, rushing past barbed wire. Everything is trying to slow her down. Even her own body as she runs as if in water.
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She’s so close, a breath away. She sees Steve, her Steve, waving her over. His bright smile shining like the sun.
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Just as she’s about to reach for his outstretched hand he’s ripped away from her.
-
“No.” She chokes, sitting up quickly as she yanks the sweat damp sheets from her overheated body. Diana hides her teary face in her palms, breathing deeply to calm her racing heart and still her quaking hands. It was only a dream. Just another cruel dream.
Sniffing, she wipes her face as she decides to take a walk on her homeland's shores to ease her heart and mind.
She is spending the week on Themyscira for The Feast of Five. It is the Themyscirians’ most holy holiday for it honors the goddesses who took part in their creation. Yesterday they hunted in honor of Artemis and tomorrow they will feast in honor of Demeter. The days after are dedicated to worship and prayer with her sisters.
Diana has relished being in the full presence of her sisters once again. As they say, it is good to be home. While she loves her comrades in man’s world, cherishing her bonds, they can never fill the place of the sisterhood she has here. The true home she has here.
Leaving her room she walks down the stone hallways, nodding as she passes the few women still awake, finding her way to a cliff, and sliding down the rocky terrain to the white sanded beaches.
Diana closes her eyes, taking in the crashing waves, the gentle chirping of crickets, the cold sand at her feet, and the soft breeze cooling her skin. She tries to clear her mind, allowing her senses to ground her to this moment.
Breathing in she lifts her head to the twinkling sky, opening her eyes as she traces the constellations in her head. She finds Orion, one of Artemis’ favored hunters.
Diana’s gaze glides across the night sky, as she catches sight of a falling star. She follows it’s path taking a moment to give her appreciation to the goddess Asteria who guides all the fallen stars. The goddess Asteria who sends messages through them and through dreams.
What message did she mean to send Diana? Was it meant to be a cruel reminder of what she’s lost? Or was it a gentle nudge for her to let go of her heart ache?
Diana sighs, bringing her scrutiny to the sea, freezing as she watches the fallen star curve up and begin traveling parallel with the ocean.
Heading towards the island.
Concerned Diana starts running to intercept whatever this is.
Could this be the goddess Asteria answering her questions? Or a foreign invader hoping to strike when least expected?
Running around a set of boulders she’s entranced to find her falling star to be a glowing young girl with hair like the moon, floating above the sand, marveling at the scenery around her. She appears mystical with her white hair flowing around her as if she were underwater. Her expression is of joy, face bright with a larger than life smile, taking everything she sees in. As the mysterious girl turns in Diana’s direction, her bright green eyes widen as they find her behind the rock, body flinching back in fear.
Diana steps out from where she was partially hidden slowly, body open and relaxed, “Fear not child, I wish you no harm. I am Princess Diana of Themyscira, may I ask who you are?” She speaks softly, hoping to eliminate the fear dancing in the young one’s eyes.
The girl doesn’t relax, body stiffening more at Diana’s advance making her halt. At this the girl seems to look more comforted, flickering eyes steadying, “I apologize for the intrusion, Princess.” She speaks softly, an odd echo to her voice as she bows her head. “My name is Ellie and I come here with no ill intent.” She states firmly, a serious furrow to her young face.
Diana smiles, “It is nice to meet you Ellie. What brings you to my home?” She questions wondering what exactly Ellie is. She would never ask out loud, for that would be rude, however, she can’t help but notice Ellie’s lack of a heartbeat.
“I’m on a mission of sorts, to see the world. All of it and, well, Themyscira was on my list.” Ellie declares a clear passion in her eyes when she speaks of her goal. The face she wears is the same one Diana had when she used to stand on this very beach, gazing over the horizon as her heart longed for adventure. As her eyes yearned to see more, her ears to hear more, her mind to understand more.
Diana finds herself in Ellie and so does what she wished someone would have done with her.
“Come and sit with me Ellie.” Diana requests, lowering to the sand as she faces the waves. Ellie is still at first before her shoulders drop and she takes a spot to Diana’s left.
“Tell me about your travels, what have you seen so far?” Diana inquires, watching Ellie’s face brighten with innocent glee as she begins gesturing wildly, recounting story after story. Her reflecting voice holding an adoration for all she has held witness to.
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Okay but Matthew's curls, Matthew's shameless mouthguard-chewing, Matthew's jawline and neckline and collarbone, thank you for keeping us current with all of these very important gifs and videos and stills because they must be shared. With the world. And it is making me want more fic where someone, anyone (Leon, probs) takes advantage of Matthew's slutty ripped shirts and uses him like a chewtoy. How the orally fixated tables have turned...
hello anon!! ❤️ first of all thank you, i appreciate the appreciation, however i must redirect your gratitude to all the wonderful folks making the gifs i get to reblog on here. they are the real mvps. they are the backbone of the rat boy economy on tumblr. last week i used one of those gifs of matthew lounging on the ice like one of our french girls from his first game of the season to reply to my roommate about something (she is not currently a hrpf girlie but but is very supportive of my hobbies) and because this was the same night as that game she was like "i can't believe there's already a gif of that." she is one of the most Online people i know and she is impressed by the tkagif makers of tumblr. we are so spoiled and privileged. we blog amongst greatness.
second of all. yes. correct. our boy has come out hot and hard this season. the curls are curling. the scruff is scruffing. the oral fixation is fixating. sexual tension with every member of the nhl already thru the roof. the slutty ripped tshirts have all the guys in a tizzy over the décolletage. the "quick and dirty hookups in a convenient supply closet" genre of hrpf could do so much for us here. in this house we love a post-trade matthew/leon fic and, like, when you only play your guy twice a year, what are you gonna do? NOT maul him in a closet in the free 15 minutes you have before bus call? get real.
anyway when a guy is giving us a really great neck/throat situation i do inevitably start thinking about vampires. there's like half a concept in my head about leon being a vampire and the tkachuks coming from a long line of vampire hunters (and vampire hunting is seen as so antiquated and uncivilized, now, with modern scientific advancements letting vampires live mostly normal lives! but that doesn't mean a guy has to TRUST them. no matter how hot they are.) (yes this is just an excuse to think about leon literally getting his teeth into matthew.)
in conclusion: so much 2 think about!!! i am currently sitting in an apartment in boston waiting for beloved hrpf scholars @hopetorun, @bropunzeling, @postoperation, and @ohtemporas to show up so we will be sure to discuss. we'll be together all weekend, ask us anything 😂
#ask#full disclosure i wrote most of this on a plane after one (1) whiskey ginger at the airport bar#i love rat boy#hockey for ts
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In fact saying that The Winchesters respects the fans of the original is a completely valid reasonable opinion people have a right to say, as being fans of the original series, they are fans, and have a right to say that if they are pleased with The Winchesters.
Actually, Janet, people are allowed to say they like it and that it's very very good and they're moved by it and grateful for it and appreciate the thought and care and love being put into it and the producers and the wonderful cast and the writers and directors and how this has opened the door so much wider to different voices crafting episodes of an spn universe show and telling that story and centering marginalized characters who don't often get to be the main heroes.
In fact, Susan, it's a very sane clear-headed thing to do. To notice, to care, and appreciate.
Stans who have had their favorite's show fluffed in blatantly obvious and biased ways so loud the marketing gears are visible from space are not in a position to cry about bias just because someone is expressing their enjoyment of the universe expansion on an established IP.
The idea that spn fans are not allowed to have an opinion on TW unless they're ripping it to shreds is wank manufacturing absurdist theater. I'm not mad. You know what I am? I'm reading their pointless drama it for the giggles and now I'm going to speak my opinion.
Because I can.
"Criticism" is not a year and a half of non-stop hatred and trolling and angry screaming at a tv show merely existing to usher in a universe expansion that is doing all it can to fully live up to the idea that Supernatural Is For Everyone. "Criticism," Karen, is "the pacing was a bit slow this week and I wish we'd seen more of this thing I want, I loved the scenes with these other characters though and how about that gorgeous set design." "Criticism" is not a year and a half of non-stop hatred. "Criticism" is not attacking people just for writing an article that said something good about a thing they're enjoying.
People who actually love and respect a fictional universe they claim to love do not behave this way when presented with a universe expansion. If they don't care for the universe expansion, they might say why, but they don't do whatever this hot mess that's still ceaselessly raging is, and if the problems are not alleviated, if they have any self awareness whatsoever, they pack up and move on to something that is more welcoming to them.
No, in fact, this behavior is not "what fans do" it's what antis do, it's what people do when an entire fictional universe breaks for them and they no longer derive joy from it. This is what happens when an entitled subset of stans online who were under the actual, selfish delusion that an entire universe was only for them, should be only for them gets smacked in the face with reality. The og series was not only for them, they were only under the illusion it was, and they spent 15 seasons being angry because other fans besides their little subset dared to exist, now the universe expansion is not for them, and the light's finally dawning onto their narrow little minds.
Supernatural is for Everyone. And they're mad about it.
We've seen this song before in other fandoms. It's tired.
Yes, actually, this show about John and Mary and their found family circle of hunter friends fighting space insects has made me feel better.
Does that make you mad? That is not my problem.
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Enough
Chapter 3
Dean Winchester x fem reader
Chapter 1
Previous chapter
Summary: Wanting to see you in action again, Dean tags along on a hunt
Warnings: violence, blood, cursing
A few days had passed since you'd started staying at the bunker. It was an interesting experience, living with people after being on your own for so long. Despite the largeness of the bunker it seemed like someone was always nearby.
You'd made a grocery run with Cas, offering to tag along with the angel. He intrigued you. You'd seen plenty of strange creatures during your time as a hunter, but never an angel. He was gruff, quiet, and very straightforward.
Though he looked relatively harmless, his rumpled clothes and messy hair made him seem like a little kid, you could sense that he was a dangerous person. You wondered if you could beat him in a fight if it came down to it. Probably not.
He was kind to you, a bit awkward, but he'd tried to make you feel welcome. He let you pick out a cereal for yourself, insisting that since you were a part of the crew then you should have your own food. It'd made you smile. You supposed it was Mary's influence that had made him feel more open to accepting you. He'd probably be more reserved if she hadn't talked you up so much since you'd met her and Bobby.
Speaking of Bobby, he'd returned the day after you and Mary and the boys did. He was delighted that you'd be staying with them, clapping you on the shoulder and grinning at you. You must've made a good impression with him as well. You had mostly kept in touch with Mary, but he'd check in on you every now and again. And you'd called him a few times with lore questions and to ask for advice.
You were all sitting in the main room, you were reading a very interesting book on hellhounds, a creature you'd never seen before, when Sam spoke up.
"Looks like we've got a case, Kent, Ohio. A girl was found in an alley by a bar, throat ripped out. Third one this week."
"I'll take it!" You piped up.
"Mind if I tag along?" Dean asked.
"Uh not at all." You said, giving him a smile.
You didn't typically want or need a partner on a straightforward case like this, but it felt kind of weird to say no. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to get to know your housemate right?
Within a few hours you were packed up and loaded into Baby and on the road. Dean had put on some music, which you recognized as Metallica.
"Alright, Metallica, you've got good taste."
"Finally, someone who appreciates my great taste in music." Dean grinned.
"Don't tell me Sam doesn't like the classics."
"Despises them. He prefers to listen to podcasts on the 95 theses or whatever."
"Your brother has no taste." You chuckled.
"You're tellin me."
The drive to Kent was pleasant. Dean's music and the scenery kept you entertained. He wasn't much for small talk, which you appreciated. A quiet drive was one of your favorite things, a peaceful moment in this chaotic mess of a job.
You arrived at a motel near the center of town when Dean parked and turned to you.
"Do you want your own room? Me and Sammy usually share, two beds, but seeing as you're a lady and you don't know me very well..."
"Nah its fine. Get one room. I'm not worried about you trying anything, Mary would have your ass." You winked.
Dean grinned, "That she would. Sit tight, I'll be out in a minute."
After a few minutes Dean cane back out, moving the car to a spot in front of your reserved room.
You went and dropped your stuff on one of the beds, stretching your legs after being in the car for so long. You'd been in the car for longer, but a 15 hour drive still left you feeling stiff.
You decided to take the rest of the night to sleep, and get an early start tomorrow. Dean was asleep within minutes, you could hear his light snores.
You turned over to look at him, he looked softer when he slept. Not as cocky and definitely not as tense. Seemed he held onto a lot more stress than he probably realized.
You sighed and turned to lay on your back. You hoped this hunt would go well. You didn't like working with someone else, but you were determined to make a good impression on Dean. You wanted him to be willing to let you stick around.
Eventually, you fell asleep. Dreaming of an old life.
The next morning the two of you made a quick breakfast run, stuffing your faces at a diner across the street. The pancakes were pretty decent, and the coffee was strong. It was a good start.
When you returned to the motel, you and Dean changed into some suits, ready to go talk to the local police about the crime scene.
You had changed in the bathroom while Dean changed out in the room, when you walked out, you were taken aback by just how good he looked in a suit.
It made him look good, though suits really just had a tendency to make any man look good. You couldn't help but rake your eyes down his form, admiring the way the shirt stretched over his biceps.
"Like what you see?" He had a cocky grin on his face as he winked at you.
"I like suits." You shrugged.
"You like men in suits." He corrected.
"What can I say? I've always liked a cleaned up man."
"Fair enough. Ready to go?"
"Yup."
The police really hadn't given you much. What they had given you was that all the victims had been seen at the same bar the night of their deaths. All women. You and Dean figured it was a male vamp, flirting his way into a meal. You'd decided you'd go in as bait.
You hadn't thought to bring anything to try and seduce a vamp so you had to make a quick shopping trip. You were in some small boutique in town, going through their dresses.
"How about this one?" You held up a white dress with floral print, it was cute, innocent.
"Nah, the victims were all wearing sexier stuff. Short. Tight...like this." He held up a small black dress, it had a plunging neckline. Definitely a lot sexier.
"Alright, let's ring it up."
"Not gonna try it on?"
"It's my size isn't it? It's fine. Besides if it's a little small it'll just add to the look."
Dean shrugged, "Alright."
When you came out of the bathroom in that tight dress and your hair done up in an elegant style, Dean wolf whistled.
"Damn, I'd eat you up too." He grinned.
You snorted, "Whatever. Let's go."
When you arrived at the bar you sat alone at a table, a whiskey in hand. Dean sat a little ways away, when you looked over in his direction he winked at you, causing you to smile a bit. You had to admit, he was cute.
Eventually, a man approached you. Arm around the back of your chair.
"Mind if I buy you a drink?" He stared down at you hungrily. You figured this was the vamp, no one else had approached you tonight, and he had that predatory look in his eyes that you'd come to recognize after years on the job.
"That'd be great." You said, pretending to check him out. He really wasn't your type. A bit scrawny for your tastes.
He disappeared for a moment before bringing you another whiskey, you'd made eye contact with Dean and had given him a nod. He was ready and waiting.
You were suspicious of the drink, all the girls autopsy reports showed that they'd been roofied. You bit the inside of your cheek, the only way to avoid this was to fake a few sips and start acting woozy. Hopefully he wouldn't notice.
And he didn't. 15 minutes later he was leading you out of the bar, you were stumbling after him. He led you to the alleyway, the same one all the other girls had been killed in.
He pressed you up against the wall, getting ready to bite when Dean turned the corner.
"Hey bloodsucker!"
The vamp whipped his head around and took a step back, growling at Dean. Dean tossed you a machete, which you easily perked up and caught.
"You stupid bitch." It hissed.
"Au contraire my friend. It seems you're the stupid bitch, taking a hunter into an alley." You grinned. The vamp saw the shift in your demeanor, a look of shock overtaking it's features.
Dean lunged at it, but it pushed him away. Then you lunged at it, slashing at its abdomen. It cried out in pain, clutching it's side. You pushed forward, blocking the punches it tried to throw before swiftly decapitating it, blood spraying in your face.
You turned to Dean, grinning. He just stared at you.
"I think that's the fastest I've ever seen someone take down one of those things."
"I'm just another breed of hunter." You winked.
Dean hadn't missed the feral look in your eyes once you got your hands on a weapon. You'd been delighted to have the opportunity to take down the pest. He liked it a little more than he'd like to admit.
You returned to the motel and cleaned up. You'd managed to get the case solved in less than a day. That was a record even for you.
You and Dean made a pretty good team you supposed. You wouldn't mind going on more hunts with him in the future, he didn't hold you back or slow you down. He managed to keep pace with you the entire time.
The drive back was nice, Dean even let you pick a tape to play. You chatted a bit here and there, he told you about what Sam was like growing up. A scrawny little kid until suddenly he shot up and was taller than Dean.
"So what were you like then?"
"A real ladies man," he grinned, "I had girls all over. Left some heartbroken. I hunted with my dad sometimes but usually took care of Sammy. How bout you?"
"I was pretty normal honestly. I did well in school, snuck out to see my friends at night. Bit of rebelling here and there but nothing too wild."
"Sounds nice."
You smiled softly, "It was. I miss it sometimes. The simpler days. But nothing really compares to the life I have now."
"Hunting really is it's own thing."
You hummed in agreement.
You really did miss your old life sometimes. You missed working a regular job, you missed going out with friends. You missed your parents. You enjoyed what you had now, but you couldn't help but wonder what would have become of you if you hadn't gotten into hunting.
Jack and Cas were there to greet you when you and Dean returned. Mary and Sam had left on another case. You greeted them and talked about the hunt before retreating to your room.
You pulled the dress out of your bag as you were unpacking and held it up.
"Might as well keep it. Could come in handy one day." You murmured before folding it and placing it in one of your drawers.
You heard a knock on your door and opened it to find Dean.
"Whats up?"
"Just wanted to say good job on the hunt. You did well."
"Thanks, so did you." You smiled.
"Uh, we were gonna go watch a movie if you wanted to join us. Beer and popcorn, and Cas bought some candy earlier." He offered.
"I'll be there in a moment."
"Great." He nodded and walked off.
You smiled, you appreciated that they wanted to include you. Maybe it wouldn't be too difficult to fit in here.
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Next Chapter
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Dm me if you want to be tagged when I update!
#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural
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Hi, how are you?
Can i request headcanons about how Vash would react to finding out reader (gender neutral) has pointed ears?
Like, reader is always seen wearing a beanie that conveniently hides their ears and one day, during a fight with bounty hunters, they lost their beanie and Vash end up seeing reader's ears.
Later, when asked why reader didn't told him, reader just gives him a piece of paper that has written "how to tell your boyfriend you have pointed ears in 3 steps" in it.
Reader was planning on telling him but the plan got ruined.
When asked how their ears are like that, reader just shrugs and says "mama told me it was a birth defect and, well, i never questioned it".
Also, reader's ears are very expressive.
They are happy/excited? Their ears perk up.
They are sad/depressed? Their ears drop down.
They hear something from afar? Their ears move up and down as if it was trying to find out where the sound was coming from.
I'm so sorry of this is super long.
I hope you have a good day!
Hi nonnie! I am doing really great lately, thank you for asking 😌 This request is kinda a full blown headcanon already, so I’m wondering what I can actually add up to it, cause it’s so precise. But the idea is really cute, I hope you don’t mind if I changed the thing about the ears a bit. I’ve just finished watching/reading ‘Heavenly Delusion’ last week and I’m totally in love with Mimihime’s ears. They’re exactly as expressive as you’ve written in your ask and are also pretty easy to hide cause the just look like weirdly cut strands of hair when not moving.
You’ve always been self-conscious of your unorthodox ears. Getting laughed at when you’ve been a kid, so you started hiding them as you were growing older. They pretty much looked inconspicuous if you were not moving them too much, which has been hard since they’ve always been pretty expressive.
During your travels with Vash and company you’ve also tried to be discreet about your ears, preferring to wear hats or a beanie to hide them. It also made you feel more vulnerable since you couldn’t analyze your surroundings that well with hearing obstructed by the thick material.
So once when you’ve been surrounded by bandits and couldn’t manage to hear properly where exactly they’ve been lurking in search of you and Vash, you decided to just rip off your hat and release your ears, which immediately rose up in all their furry glory, allowing you to pinpoint almost the exact location of each goon, helping Vash to swiftly deal with them.
Vash’s been quite puzzled about your ears, but even more by the fact that you’ve hidden it from him for too long, having you confess that you’ve been trying to find the proper time to tell him, but couldn’t, showing some notes in your personal diary you’ve made with rough drafts of what you’ve been wanting to say to him when you open up about your ears.
Vash really came to love your ears, finding cute that he’s not the only ‘weird’ one and also appreciated the way your alleviated hearing helped your group more than once in tough spots.
#vash x reader#trigun x reader#vash x you#trigun x you#vash headcanons#trigun headcanons#lion writes
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@tbb-appreciation-week DAY 5: CROSSHAIR (09/07) — Whump | Hiding Face in Neck | "I'll keep you safe."
characters and relationships: Crosshair, Hunter, the other Bad Batchers are mentioned
warnings: mentions of Hemlock and medical stuff (syringes), references to torture (as shown in tbb s2), mentions of nausea, PTSD
Notes: aside from tomorrow's lightly angsted fluff, what do i write that isn't whump, lbr. I didn't even realise that Crosshair doesn't speak in this until the last line until rereading it. most of this happens inside his head.
read on AO3
Crosshair stared at the syringe and tried his best not to look like he was about to throw up.
The figure looms over him like something out of a nightmare, and the table’s restraints are metal claws around his wrists. The voice, soft but weighty in its menacing authority, pins him down just as well as the cuffs.
“Surely, you have something useful to share.”
The tightening of the strap around his head, the screams he realises come from himself only after they’d ripped his throat raw.
“She means nothing to you.”
They’d keep it up each time he refused to say a word, until the gray panels of the ceiling start to blur above him when he opens his eyes.
“All you have to do… And you’ll have your freedom.”
He can’t tell them, even as the pain mounts up, threatens to rip his head from his body. He can’t. He protects his brothers, even if they’re no longer his squad.
Even if he dies to keep them hidden.
“Crosshair. Are you even listening? Cross? Hey-”
A hand touched his shoulder, and he jerked away violently, stumbling back against Echo’s chair and falling to the floor as his knees buckled.
“Crosshair!” Hemlock’s face, glaring down at him, twisted in fury. He blinked, and it was Hunter’s, fraught with shock and worry. “What- Why’d you do that?”
The words stuck in his throat, clamped behind his jaws. It was only as Hunter tentatively reached out and took Crosshair’s hands in his that he realised he was shaking all over.
“Are you okay?” Omega’s little face peered out from behind an equally concerned Wrecker, Tech standing just off to the side of her, fingers wrapped tightly around the armrest of his the pilot’s chair. Crosshair wanted to shake his head no, to scream it into a pillow or from the Marauder’s roof for the galaxy to hear, but instead he curled in on himself and closed his eyes, ignoring her.
He felt Hunter’s presence and grip on his hand shift, and then there was a warmth suddenly near him. He opened his eyes to see his brother leaning in close, wrapping one hand around the back of his neck to steady him. That grip was Hunter’s comfort move, his love language; a silent I’m here when he didn’t need or want to say the words.
“We’re not on Tantiss anymore. You’re okay.” Crosshair held back a choked laugh. Trust him to hit the nail on the head after no more than a few seconds. “You’re safe now, you hear?”
Crosshair pulled his hand out of Hunter’s to roughly scrub at his wet face, the tears he couldn’t remember crying. He leaned into the safe press of his older brother’s embrace, buried his face in his neck as if he was a cadet making believe nothing bad could ever get to him while he was folded in this warm haven. And Hunter hugged him back like he was pretending the same.
“You’re safe. You’re okay. And I’m never letting you go again. I’ll keep you safe. We’ll keep you safe. Forever. Understood?” He nodded into Hunter’s shoulder, sniffled and wrapped his arms around him, squeezing as tightly as he dared.
“I hate you.”
“Love you too, Cross.”
#swift writes#swift creates#tbbaw2023#Crosshair#tbb crosshair#Crosshair tbb#Day 5#Star Wars fanfic#star wars fanfiction#star wars fic#torture#referenced torture#PTSD#platonic#siblings#Star Wars#The bad batch#tbb fanfic#tbb fanfiction#the bad batch fanfic#tbb#trauma#whump#angst#Hiding face in neck#“I’ll keep you safe.”
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Era verdad.
Era verdad. https://ift.tt/DZ4VnaK by coldtime2000 Words: 327, Chapters: 1/1, Language: Español Fandoms: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen, M/M, Multi Characters: Leonard Snart, Rip Hunter, Barry Allen, Hartley Rathaway, Earth-2 Harrison "Harry" Wells, Sara Lance, Caitlin Snow, Mick Rory, Cisco Ramon, Ray Palmer, Joe West Relationships: Rip Hunter/Leonard Snart, Rip Hunter & Leonard Snart, Barry Allen/Hartley Rathaway, Rip Hunter & Caitlin Snow, Rip Hunter & Sara Lance, Sara Lance & Caitlin Snow, Cisco Ramon/Earth-2 Harrison "Harry" Wells, Ray Palmer & Mick Rory, Rip Hunter & Mick Rory, Barry Allen & Joe West, Leonard Snart & Joe West Additional Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Male-Female Friendship, Leonard Snart Lives, Protective Leonard Snart, Post-Oculus Leonard Snart, Rip Hunter Lives, Rip Hunter is so Done, Grumpy Earth-2 Harrison "Harry" Wells, Good Friend Cisco Ramon, Cisco Ramon is Vibe, Bisexual Barry Allen, Barry Allen is The Flash, Barry Allen & Cisco Ramon Friendship, Good Hartley Rathaway, Caitlin Snow is Killer Frost, Doctor Caitlin Snow, Established Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe, Protective Joe West, Good Parent Joe West, Minor Joe West, Mick Rory Appreciation Week via AO3 works tagged 'Cisco Ramon/Earth-2 Harrison "Harry" Wells' https://ift.tt/Kbng1p0 December 20, 2023 at 05:12AM
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supernatural s12e21 there's something about mary (w. brad buckner, eugenie ross-leming)
....they just killed eileen off like that? that's... disappointing. make us connect with her through a really good monster of the week in s11, but then also bring her back in s12, have her and sam have a little flirty vibe, she accidentally kills some asshole bmol so she and sam can have an emotional beat. and a handful of episodes later she gets killed unceremoniously by ketch and, apparently, a trained hellhound. because that makes sense. no more things going bump in the night! except for the ones i use for killing people 😌
spn s12e21 (2017) / the magicians s3e8 six short stories about magic (w. sera gamble, david reed - 2018)
i appreciated sort of her brief chase scene from her pov through her hearing loss. the magicians did something similar (article for details with showrunners) with marlee maitlan's role - but much, much longer. it was 9 minutes. (took a snippet with felicia day in it too, rip charlie)
DEAN Seven monster-related deaths. I mean, what, did all the things out there suddenly start working together? SAM Dean, monsters and demons don't team up. Seven Hunters are gone. We can't grab a signal from Mom's phone. Cass has Kelly Kline who knows where. Mick has slipped off the grid. Ketch is lying to us. I-I… I wanna punch something in the face.
kudos to padalecki because as always he can really bring those emotions and he seemed to really be hurting over eileen but it's bang boom all part of this bigger picture and oh they're all monster related deaths and hey let's clean house on any side characters we wanna off for the drama. her character deserved a better sendoff than this (or hey let her live), if they were gonna have her come back, in my ever so humble opinion.
TONI I have sources, Mary. Everywhere. After you died, your beloved John was a man slowly going mad, searching for revenge. What? Your boys didn't tell you? The drunken rages? The weeks of abandonment? Child abuse, really. It's no wonder they're damaged.
grain of salt obviously what with the brainwashing etc but canonically what's been established before was surely neglect at the least. hence why i can't let it go
CROWLEY Good afternoon. Dr. Hess. Stunningly beautiful as ever.
well. if nothing else, this is a slightly more seamless way of trying to retcon the bmol existing and operating offscreen for all these seasons prior, having crowley establish some background with the bad lady
DR. HESS Crowley, one more thing. CROWLEY What? DR. HESS Your relationship with the Winchesters. It's a bit cozy for my taste. I hope you don't expect me to spare your friends.
i do think that's what keeps crowley more interesting than he might be if he was just plain beholden to the winchesters (more like cas tends to be [caveat he's not also always beholden to them but when he's not he's usually making the Worst decisions]), he's out there still killing people, aiding the bad people in killing people we like and care about like eileen. but we can also pretty much count on him coming through to work things such that dean and sam will be okay in the end. he contains multitudes
CROWLEY So… Dagon dead. Kelly's now in the clutches of the Winchesters' love slave, Castiel, who's no doubt dragging her to a gruesome death.
lol
LUCIFER Mm. As opposed to the fun-packed death you have planned.
laughed again! these two, love em
ok let me guess brainwashed to kill sam and dean, is that on the menu?
thanks for the little tidbit of them having a po box in lebanon
good lord why are they killing time at the end of the season with this random drama moment between mr ketchup and torturer lady
MR. KETCH I don't know you, Mary. Not really. You certainly don't know me. You… wouldn't want to.
oh my god and the little kid music box spooky music starts playing in the background, mr ketchup is just a hurt little boy 😢 the snort i snorted!
real deal mary just tried to kill herself, pulled the trigger and only saved by ketch pulling it away to deflect the shot what the fuck. that is way too dark and serious for this show. that was awful. samantha smith is doing good with the scene and on her knees begging to be killed we get the mushy music.
how did her hair not move from upright to this position. now i'm just being nitpicky because i'm pissed off, but if we're plowing into the gritty dark realism of her torturing/brainwashing, her hair should be gross and acting like dirty sweaty hair.
so i'll rant about the music too then. so like, this scene on the setup / assassination trap thing dean and sam luring bmol to, it's way edgier and interesting and weirder than his score usually is. sometimes it's completely bland, or misses the tone, or is mega cliched, and then it'll be Good! for a brief moment and then the tone changes and the vibe is back to boring blah nothing or actively obnoxious. i feel vaguely bad about ranting about the score all the time, but i think it's honestly the biggest failing in the show over the entire run. i have plenty of issues with other things, but the music has consistently been subpar and pulled the quality of the show down with it, in my opinion. the foley though - i love it.
also mark pellegrino as lucifer, love. so good. so creepy! ugh. and i really don't want him having thrall over crowley, because he is so creepy. so i am getting concerned
well. not sure where this is going since crowley didn't do the dead-demon-zappy thing after the angel blade stabbing, even though lucifer just walked away like it was done
nice little exchange to highlight how they fight together with silently communication, and pretty cool action sequence. don't see them in these kind of shootouts often and they gave both Js some slick action hero moves
MR. KETCH Your bunker is an excellent fortress. An even better tomb. So we've rejiggered the locks, we've shut off the water, and once we leave, the pumps that bring in the air shall reverse. Your oxygen should be gone in two days, maybe three. You dying in here, it's almost poetic, hmm? Come along, Mary.
hokay. cliche villain killing them slowly enough to give them ample time to figure it out or have someone save them
LOL while talking to robomary we get mushy music but Creepy Version. discordant
ah, is crowley in the rat? is that why he didn't zap?
literally had the thought process of wait are we in one of those parody old spice commercials?? literally wheezing from laughing
he looks great but this choice was SO. HOKEY. (with music to match, you'll be shocked to hear me say) and the visuals look fake without looking like... really obviously fake? but it's also clearly fake? because the lighting is so mismatched and earth doesn't really look like That out of the box? lol
#supernatural#spnwatch#spn 12x21#the magicians#six short stories about magic#marlee matlin#eileen leahy#spnwhinge#spn clip#spn mushy music#spn mushy music variation#spn musical score#brad buckner#eugenie ross leming#jay gruska
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Olivia Is Missing
June 29th
Olivia is missing.
We don’t really know what happened, she just didn’t show up to work. It was fine that first day, we got the food out for everyone, only had some minor panic attacks, just a usual day. No one really noticed she was actually missing until a couple days later. Someone went looking for her, because Jake finally noticed she hadn’t been in for a few days, and no one could find her.
We packed lunches for the search parties an hour ago, even for the police and firefighters that showed up from town. We appreciate them coming to look for her. We’d appreciate it more if they let us look for her too. Instead we have to prepare dinner for when they come back. We’re setting a plate aside specifically for her.
July 5th
I thought I saw her. God, she was right in front of me. It was awful. She was right outside the door when I got up for work. I almost wish I hadn’t. She was all bloody and ripped apart and I don’t remember screaming but I guess I did, since I woke the others up.
She wasn’t there, not really, but I swear I could have reached out and touched her. Jasmine thinks I was sleepwalking, but I’ve never done that before and I don’t have the haunted bed (some poor guy in West 4 has it; I woke him up on the bridge one night).
They gave up searching a few days ago. They think she’s dead. I do too, now. No one could look like what I saw and still be alive.
July 12th
Everyone’s doing okay. It’s been two weeks since Olivia disappeared. Things are getting back to normal. Alice is still a wreck, those two were so close. Jake is too, she was one of the interns he already knew when everyone came back this summer. Sometimes they just sit together and look out at the lake.
It’s weird. I took the drive to town a few days ago and I stopped by that vietnamese place she mentioned. It’s as good as she said. I wish I’d gone with her and the rest, one of those nights in the first couple weeks. But town is so far away, and I had to get up early. I have the morning shift. Olivia never did.
July 14th
Jasmine is missing.
She wasn’t here last night when I went to bed, which isn’t odd because I’m the first to go to sleep usually. But I’m the first up and she wasn’t there and something felt wrong and no one saw her leave the lab under the dining hall last night. She doesn’t leave that late, there’s still people in the library. Mike’s called the cops again. I don’t get to be a part of the search. It’s Saturday, I still work. I’m stuck packing lunches and making dinner again.
July 14th
They found her. Oh my god, they found her. What’s left of her. She was still breathing when the helicopter got here, everyone told her to just keep fighting.
She won’t make it.
They think it was a bear turned maneater, but no bear could’ve done that. They’re going to let hunters know. No one’s allowed to walk alone anymore.
Her stuff’s still in the cabin. I don’t even want to look at it. We weren’t close, but she was still a friend, sort of. I just keep looking at her bed and seeing her lying on it like she was lying on that stretcher getting loaded into the helicopter. She’s not coming back.
Everyone else at the station gets the time to mourn. We still have to get up and make breakfast. There’s a truck coming in today. We’re going to make breakfast tacos tomorrow. She liked those.
July 17th
Everyone’s tense now. The hunters scoured every inch of land in the station proper and the prairies surrounding and said there’s no sign of a bear, or a mountain lion, not even a coyote. Some of them mentioned they were waiting for someone to get back before taking the hour and a half long drive to town again. Some of them didn’t show up.
Jake’s making chickpea curry for dinner. I know, I’m waiting for my cabin mates, Margret and Lisa, so that we can go to the cabin. Whatever’s going on, no one wants to be next.
Jake’s as pissed as the rest of us. Mike’s trying to get the station shut down for the summer until we can find everyone that went missing. We all know Yucca Peak demands blood, but not like this. People don’t die, they just get hurt.
July 20th
Three people went missing. I didn’t know most of them, they were just here for a class. Here for a moon cycle, as Mike likes to say. Liked to say. He’s talking to the university about shutting down the summer programs out here, but he’s not getting very far. The university doesn’t want to have to pay people back for the canceled classes. They don’t understand the situation out here.
I thought I saw them. All five of them. Margaret was sick and in the cabin, but Lisa was with me. She saw them too. Lake said they’re seeing the same stuff. At least I’m not the only one going crazy.
Some of the students are leaving. I can’t blame them. Five people in three weeks. More, if you count the hunters that didn’t come back. The professors are still teaching, but Margaret and Lisa say that not much gets done. Everyone’s too scared to go out looking for snakes. You get too far apart from other people, and no one wants to be the next missing person.
July 21st
Margaret is missing.
July 23rd
Something cut power to the station. No one wants to use their phones or computers. We don’t have wifi out here. We barely have a cell signal. Mike radioed the town to ask for help getting electricity back but he couldn’t get through to them.
Half the people are gone now. I was going to leave too, before Margaret. I couldn’t leave Lisa alone, those two were best friends. Some people are moving their things into the dining hall so they don’t have to go out at night. I’m trying to convince Lisa and Alice to do the same. Kitchen-Mike and Cole already have. We have to do it soon, or all the space will be taken and we’ll have to be in the library.
July 24th
Something cut the tires on all the cars left here. We don’t know if the water’s clean. We’re boiling it in the fireplace and letting it cool when we want a drink. We can’t run the oven or the grill. We haven’t been able to get food in.
Mike walked the two miles to get to the mailbox. We’re hoping the snail mail gets to the University, someone in town, anywhere. We’re trapped out here. Mike’s looking through every book he can with Jake to see what can be foraged, if we can find enough for the 45 people still here.
Jordan keeps saying this is all just a series of coincidences. Really unfortunate coincidences. I think he’s in denial. Especially since five more people are gone. Alice among them.
Lake said they saw the hunters coming back from the bathhouse with Kitchen-Mike. I’ve been seeing Margaret and Olivia the most. They look like they’re trying to say something, but I can never hear them.
They all look so horrifying.
July 27th
There’s not much to forage out here. At least, there isn’t enough for everyone. The water got cut off too, so we only have the lake. No one’s swam in it in years, not since it got treated for E. coli. We boil it for twenty minutes instead of ten.
Some people got fed up and decided to take their chances walking to town. I hope they make it. Heaven knows we need to help.
More people are going missing. Since the water got cut off the plumbing doesn’t work in the bathhouse. There’s no bathrooms, no showers, no real sign that help is coming. There’s 30 of us now. Some left, some went missing. People are starting to starve. It’s been a month and a half since this all started.
I want it all to be over. I want to go home. I want to hug my parents, my siblings, my girlfriend, my dog. I want to punch whichever university bigwig pushed back at Mike for wanting to shut Yucca peak down for the summer. I want to leave here and never come back.
The vultures are all circling over the mountain, day in and day out. We make up stories about why. It’s not like we have much else to do. Class has stopped and no one is out working, except for bringing in water and going out in pairs to try and find food.
A few people brought instruments. They play songs, but only during the day. Once the sun sets it’s lights out and we don’t dare make a sound.
August 2nd
Lisa had water duty with Jordan today. They haven’t come back.
I want to go home.
August 3rd
They found Jordan in the lake. Pieces of him. We buried what we could. Everyone’s seen them now, whatever you want to call these things we keep seeing. Ghosts, spirits, collective hallucinations. No one wants to open doors. They like to pop up when you do that. We’re stuck in the dining hall without food or water. There’s 24 of us now. There were nearly a hundred before this all started.
I want to wake up from this nightmare. I want to wake up and have this all be a dream, for Olivia and Jasmine and Margaret and Lisa to all still be here. Those of us left of the kitchen staff stick close. It started with us, and if nothing else it’ll end with us.
Jake tries to keep our spirits up, but it’s kinda hard, especially now that no one’s going out to get water and stuff. It always feels like there’s something watching us, waiting for a slip up, an opportunity to grab someone else. It’s already taken so many of us. I don’t think it’ll stop until we’re all gone.
August 7th
I saw it. I don’t know what that thing was, but I saw it. It got impatient, it snuck into the lodge. It grabbed Lake. I heard them screaming. They were out the door before I could do much, but the thing looked almost human. It was too long and too tall, though, and it’s skin looked like a corpse and the look in its eyes wasn’t human.
I froze. I froze as that… thing dragged Lake out the door. I saw their eyes. They screamed for my help. I can hear them still screaming a little ways away. Whatever it is, it wants us to know it’s there.
We’re barricading the doors tonight.
I don’t think I’ll ever sleep again.
August 9th
We can’t stay here. The barricades didn’t work. There’s 19 of us now. We’re getting what we can and we’re going to walk to town together. I hope we make it.
I’m going to use the last of my battery to call my mom. Tell her I love her and Dad and the kids and all that. In case we don’t make it. In case that thing gets to us first.
August 10th
It found us on the road. It got Mike and Cole, but it was too preoccupied to follow us. We weren’t carrying much but water bottles which is why we managed to get away. I can’t… I can. I can believe that all happened. I do believe it all happened. I have the malnourishment to prove it. Dad’s going to pick me up from the hospital once I get discharged. He’s across the state, but it doesn’t matter to him. He’ll book a hotel for the night and leave the morning after I get released.
None of us wanted to be alone. We’re all in adjacent rooms, two or three to a room. The nurses don’t like it, but being alone still feels like a death sentence. At least there’s sound here. Beeping monitors and footsteps all the time. The air is stale and cool, not free and warm like at the station.
We’re all having nightmares. I think we all will for a long time. The cops tried to ask us about what happened, but they don't believe us. You can see it in their eyes. We told them about the mountains, the vultures. They said they’d check it out, even though we told them not to. I don’t think they’ll come back.
We’re all trading numbers. Our phones are all dead, we left the cords behind, but when we get back from wherever we all came from we’re going to make a group chat. I can’t imagine talking about this to anyone who doesn’t know right now. Not after the cops.
No one but the nurses believes us. If we don’t stick together, I don’t think we’ll last very long. I’ve heard about tragedies happening, survivors killing themselves in the aftermath. We’ve been through so much, we have to survive. We have to. I’m scared that if we die that thing will come for us, take our bodies since it couldn’t take our lives.
I can still hear them, everyone who died. I swear I can hear a scream down the hall, like that thing managed to travel all the way here. I know it isn’t likely, but after everything that’s happened it feels more likely than not. No one’s died, though. We’re all hearing the screams. Even the nurses. I think it’s why they believe us.
I’ll be here for another week at least. Then I’ll have to figure out how to keep living. I don’t think I can go back to school right now. I don’t think I can do much of anything. Not when I can still see Olivia standing outside the door. I can hear her now.
She wants to know why we didn’t run when she told us to.
#horror#tw: gore#tw: death#tw: blood#Also posting on my main blog#writing#short story#fiction#do not repost
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Olivia Is Missing
June 29th
Olivia is missing.
We don’t really know what happened, she just didn’t show up to work. It was fine that first day, we got the food out for everyone, only had some minor panic attacks, just a usual day. No one really noticed she was actually missing until a couple days later. Someone went looking for her, because Jake finally noticed she hadn’t been in for a few days, and no one could find her.
We packed lunches for the search parties an hour ago, even for the police and firefighters that showed up from town. We appreciate them coming to look for her. We’d appreciate it more if they let us look for her too. Instead we have to prepare dinner for when they come back. We’re setting a plate aside specifically for her.
July 5th
I thought I saw her. God, she was right in front of me. It was awful. She was right outside the door when I got up for work. I almost wish I hadn’t. She was all bloody and ripped apart and I don’t remember screaming but I guess I did, since I woke the others up.
She wasn’t there, not really, but I swear I could have reached out and touched her. Jasmine thinks I was sleepwalking, but I’ve never done that before and I don’t have the haunted bed (some poor guy in West 4 has it; I woke him up on the bridge one night).
They gave up searching a few days ago. They think she’s dead. I do too, now. No one could look like what I saw and still be alive.
July 12th
Everyone’s doing okay. It’s been two weeks since Olivia disappeared. Things are getting back to normal. Alice is still a wreck, those two were so close. Jake is too, she was one of the interns he already knew when everyone came back this summer. Sometimes they just sit together and look out at the lake.
It’s weird. I took the drive to town a few days ago and I stopped by that vietnamese place she mentioned. It’s as good as she said. I wish I’d gone with her and the rest, one of those nights in the first couple weeks. But town is so far away, and I had to get up early. I have the morning shift. Olivia never did.
July 14th
Jasmine is missing.
She wasn’t here last night when I went to bed, which isn’t odd because I’m the first to go to sleep usually. But I’m the first up and she wasn’t there and something felt wrong and no one saw her leave the lab under the dining hall last night. She doesn’t leave that late, there’s still people in the library. Mike’s called the cops again. I don’t get to be a part of the search. It’s Saturday, I still work. I’m stuck packing lunches and making dinner again.
July 14th
They found her. Oh my god, they found her. What’s left of her. She was still breathing when the helicopter got here, everyone told her to just keep fighting.
She won’t make it.
They think it was a bear turned maneater, but no bear could’ve done that. They’re going to let hunters know. No one’s allowed to walk alone anymore.
Her stuff’s still in the cabin. I don’t even want to look at it. We weren’t close, but she was still a friend, sort of. I just keep looking at her bed and seeing her lying on it like she was lying on that stretcher getting loaded into the helicopter. She’s not coming back.
Everyone else at the station gets the time to mourn. We still have to get up and make breakfast. There’s a truck coming in today. We’re going to make breakfast tacos tomorrow. She liked those.
July 17th
Everyone’s tense now. The hunters scoured every inch of land in the station proper and the prairies surrounding and said there’s no sign of a bear, or a mountain lion, not even a coyote. Some of them mentioned they were waiting for someone to get back before taking the hour and a half long drive to town again. Some of them didn’t show up.
Jake’s making chickpea curry for dinner. I know, I’m waiting for my cabin mates, Margret and Lisa, so that we can go to the cabin. Whatever’s going on, no one wants to be next.
Jake’s as pissed as the rest of us. Mike’s trying to get the station shut down for the summer until we can find everyone that went missing. We all know Yucca Peak demands blood, but not like this. People don’t die, they just get hurt.
July 20th
Three people went missing. I didn’t know most of them, they were just here for a class. Here for a moon cycle, as Mike likes to say. Liked to say. He’s talking to the university about shutting down the summer programs out here, but he’s not getting very far. The university doesn’t want to have to pay people back for the canceled classes. They don’t understand the situation out here.
I thought I saw them. All five of them. Margaret was sick and in the cabin, but Lisa was with me. She saw them too. Lake said they’re seeing the same stuff. At least I’m not the only one going crazy.
Some of the students are leaving. I can’t blame them. Five people in three weeks. More, if you count the hunters that didn’t come back. The professors are still teaching, but Margaret and Lisa say that not much gets done. Everyone’s too scared to go out looking for snakes. You get too far apart from other people, and no one wants to be the next missing person.
July 21st
Margaret is missing.
July 23rd
Something cut power to the station. No one wants to use their phones or computers. We don’t have wifi out here. We barely have a cell signal. Mike radioed the town to ask for help getting electricity back but he couldn’t get through to them.
Half the people are gone now. I was going to leave too, before Margaret. I couldn’t leave Lisa alone, those two were best friends. Some people are moving their things into the dining hall so they don’t have to go out at night. I’m trying to convince Lisa and Alice to do the same. Kitchen-Mike and Cole already have. We have to do it soon, or all the space will be taken and we’ll have to be in the library.
July 24th
Something cut the tires on all the cars left here. We don’t know if the water’s clean. We’re boiling it in the fireplace and letting it cool when we want a drink. We can’t run the oven or the grill. We haven’t been able to get food in.
Mike walked the two miles to get to the mailbox. We’re hoping the snail mail gets to the University, someone in town, anywhere. We’re trapped out here. Mike’s looking through every book he can with Jake to see what can be foraged, if we can find enough for the 45 people still here.
Jordan keeps saying this is all just a series of coincidences. Really unfortunate coincidences. I think he’s in denial. Especially since five more people are gone. Alice among them.
Lake said they saw the hunters coming back from the bathhouse with Kitchen-Mike. I’ve been seeing Margaret and Olivia the most. They look like they’re trying to say something, but I can never hear them.
They all look so horrifying.
July 27th
There’s not much to forage out here. At least, there isn’t enough for everyone. The water got cut off too, so we only have the lake. No one’s swam in it in years, not since it got treated for E. coli. We boil it for twenty minutes instead of ten.
Some people got fed up and decided to take their chances walking to town. I hope they make it. Heaven knows we need to help.
More people are going missing. Since the water got cut off the plumbing doesn’t work in the bathhouse. There’s no bathrooms, no showers, no real sign that help is coming. There’s 30 of us now. Some left, some went missing. People are starting to starve. It’s been a month and a half since this all started.
I want it all to be over. I want to go home. I want to hug my parents, my siblings, my girlfriend, my dog. I want to punch whichever university bigwig pushed back at Mike for wanting to shut Yucca peak down for the summer. I want to leave here and never come back.
The vultures are all circling over the mountain, day in and day out. We make up stories about why. It’s not like we have much else to do. Class has stopped and no one is out working, except for bringing in water and going out in pairs to try and find food.
A few people brought instruments. They play songs, but only during the day. Once the sun sets it’s lights out and we don’t dare make a sound.
August 2nd
Lisa had water duty with Jordan today. They haven’t come back.
I want to go home.
August 3rd
They found Jordan in the lake. Pieces of him. We buried what we could. Everyone’s seen them now, whatever you want to call these things we keep seeing. Ghosts, spirits, collective hallucinations. No one wants to open doors. They like to pop up when you do that. We’re stuck in the dining hall without food or water. There’s 24 of us now. There were nearly a hundred before this all started.
I want to wake up from this nightmare. I want to wake up and have this all be a dream, for Olivia and Jasmine and Margaret and Lisa to all still be here. Those of us left of the kitchen staff stick close. It started with us, and if nothing else it’ll end with us.
Jake tries to keep our spirits up, but it’s kinda hard, especially now that no one’s going out to get water and stuff. It always feels like there’s something watching us, waiting for a slip up, an opportunity to grab someone else. It’s already taken so many of us. I don’t think it’ll stop until we’re all gone.
August 7th
I saw it. I don’t know what that thing was, but I saw it. It got impatient, it snuck into the lodge. It grabbed Lake. I heard them screaming. They were out the door before I could do much, but the thing looked almost human. It was too long and too tall, though, and it’s skin looked like a corpse and the look in its eyes wasn’t human.
I froze. I froze as that… thing dragged Lake out the door. I saw their eyes. They screamed for my help. I can hear them still screaming a little ways away. Whatever it is, it wants us to know it’s there.
We’re barricading the doors tonight.
I don’t think I’ll ever sleep again.
August 9th
We can’t stay here. The barricades didn’t work. There’s 19 of us now. We’re getting what we can and we’re going to walk to town together. I hope we make it.
I’m going to use the last of my battery to call my mom. Tell her I love her and Dad and the kids and all that. In case we don’t make it. In case that thing gets to us first.
August 10th
It found us on the road. It got Mike and Cole, but it was too preoccupied to follow us. We weren’t carrying much but water bottles which is why we managed to get away. I can’t… I can. I can believe that all happened. I do believe it all happened. I have the malnourishment to prove it. Dad’s going to pick me up from the hospital once I get discharged. He’s across the state, but it doesn’t matter to him. He’ll book a hotel for the night and leave the morning after I get released.
None of us wanted to be alone. We’re all in adjacent rooms, two or three to a room. The nurses don’t like it, but being alone still feels like a death sentence. At least there’s sound here. Beeping monitors and footsteps all the time. The air is stale and cool, not free and warm like at the station.
We’re all having nightmares. I think we all will for a long time. The cops tried to ask us about what happened, but they don't believe us. You can see it in their eyes. We told them about the mountains, the vultures. They said they’d check it out, even though we told them not to. I don’t think they’ll come back.
We’re all trading numbers. Our phones are all dead, we left the cords behind, but when we get back from wherever we all came from we’re going to make a group chat. I can’t imagine talking about this to anyone who doesn’t know right now. Not after the cops.
No one but the nurses believes us. If we don’t stick together, I don’t think we’ll last very long. I’ve heard about tragedies happening, survivors killing themselves in the aftermath. We’ve been through so much, we have to survive. We have to. I’m scared that if we die that thing will come for us, take our bodies since it couldn’t take our lives.
I can still hear them, everyone who died. I swear I can hear a scream down the hall, like that thing managed to travel all the way here. I know it isn’t likely, but after everything that’s happened it feels more likely than not. No one’s died, though. We’re all hearing the screams. Even the nurses. I think it’s why they believe us.
I’ll be here for another week at least. Then I’ll have to figure out how to keep living. I don’t think I can go back to school right now. I don’t think I can do much of anything. Not when I can still see Olivia standing outside the door. I can hear her now.
She wants to know why we didn’t run when she told us to.
#horror#tw: gore#tw: death#tw: blood#Also posting on my writing blog#writing#short story#fiction#do not repost
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