#i think proceeds went to help the birds

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Red Sky At Morning | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Discussions of healing from a sexual assault (proceed with caution if this is triggering for you!!! I love you!! Take care of yourself!!!), canon violence, canon gore, spitting insults back and forth with Bela, discussions of dead family members

Word Count: 7523

A/N: I snuck a New Girl reference in here… see if you can catch it ;) Also… there is heavy homoerotic subtext between Bela and (Y/N). Giving my loyal subjects what they deserve lmfao

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Your mind refused to let you rest after seeing Sam leaving in the middle of the night. Despite your exhaustion, you stayed near the window until you saw the car return to its original parking spot around three in the morning. And sure enough, Sam walked out of it, looking severely pissed off. 

‘I’m guessing he didn’t just have a bad hookup,’ you mentally remarked. You stewed for a few more minutes on what he could’ve possibly gone to do before sleep finally came to claim you. You settled into bed next to Dean with a yawn, and his lips twitched upwards in his sleep when you wound your arms around him. 

***

The next morning around seven, you woke up to see Dean shuffling around and packing. 

“Look at you, early bird,” you said dryly, stretching. 

He turned slightly over his shoulder and smiled at you. “We gotta talk about Sam.”

You sat up, immediately alert. “Yeah, I know. I saw him leave last night.”

“And now, one of the bullets is missing from the Colt,” Dean huffed. “Dammit, Sam.”

“Let me take the lead on this one, okay?” you urged Dean, moving to the bathroom to brush your teeth and messy hair. “Promise I’ll let you get your two cents in, but I wanna see if he’ll fess up to it first.”

Dean seemed hesitant, but you saw his reflection in the bathroom mirror nod anyway. He approached you and gave you a kiss on the side of the head; you assumed in assurance that he would do what you said. 

***

Night fell, and none of you had said a word to each other. You sat in the back seat, of course, and Sam was in the passenger’s. You leaned back on the cool leather with crossed arms, waiting for someone to break. 

Finally, you’d had enough. “Got somethin’ you wanna tell us, Sam?”

He turned to you, and it was evident he was playing dumb. “It’s not your birthday, is it?”

You quirked a brow, unamused. “No.”

“...Happy Purim?” he laughed. “Dude, I don't know. I have no idea what you're talking about—”

Dean cut him off, seeming not to be able to help himself. “There's a bullet missing from the Colt. You want to tell me how that happened? I know it wasn't me. I know it wasn’t her. So unless you were shooting at some incredibly evil cans—”

“Dean…” Sam sighed. 

“You went after the crossroads demon, huh?” you said as more of a statement than a question. 

“After I told you not to,” Dean added harshly.

“Yeah, well…”

“You could have gotten yourself killed!” Dean roared.

“I didn’t,” Sam argued.

“And you shot her.”

“She was a smartass!”

Dean waited a moment, trying to gain his composure. “So, what? Does that— Does that mean I'm out of my deal?”

“Don't you think I might have mentioned that little fact, Dean?” Sam scoffed. “No. Someone else holds the contract.”

“I do believe I already told you that,” you reminded the boys. “And no one will fucking say who.”

“Of course, our best lead would be the crossroads demon. Oh, wait a minute…” Dean snarked. 

“That's not funny,” Sam said dryly. 

“No, it's not!” Dean yelled. “It was a stupid fuckin’ risk, and you shouldn't have done it.”

“I shouldn't have done it?” Sam challenged. “You're my brother, Dean. And no matter what you do, I'm gonna try and save you. And I'm sure as hell not gonna apologize for it, alright?”

The rest of the drive to the next case you’d stumbled upon was completely silent. 

***

You and the Winchesters posed as detectives once more to interview the great-aunt of the woman who’d drowned in the shower. The witness seemed particularly interested in Sam, which you were struggling to hold back a smile over. 

“But I don't understand,” the elegant, elderly woman said. “I already went over all this with the other detectives.”

“Right, yes,” Dean replied. “But, see, we're with the sheriff's department, not the police department – different departments.”

“So, Mrs. Case—”

“Please.” The woman’s voice had suddenly dropped an octave, likely attempting to seem sultry. “Ms. Case.”

Sam looked intensely uncomfortable. “Okay. Um, Ms. Case, um, you were the one who found your niece, correct?”

She nodded. “I came home; she was in the shower.”

“Drowned?” Sam asked.

“So the coroner says. Now, you tell me, how can someone drown in the shower?” Ms. Case’s eyes refused to leave Sam. 

“How would you describe Sheila's behavior in the days before her death? I mean, did she seem frightened? Maybe she said something out of the ordinary, or—”

Ms. Case suddenly cut Sam off. “Wait a minute. You're working with Alex, aren't you?”

Before you could voice your confusion, Dean started talking. “Yep. Absolutely. That's—” he laughed, “Alex and us, we're like this.”

“Why didn't you say so?” Ms. Case grinned. “Alex has been such a comfort. But I’m sorry, I thought the case was solved.”

You shook your head. “No, not yet.” “I see.” The woman seemed a bit dazed.

Sam cleared his throat. “So, anyways, we were talking about your niece.”

“Well, yes. Sheila mentioned something quite strange before she died. She said she saw a boat,” the woman explained. 

“A boat?” you questioned.

“Yes. One minute it was there, then it was gone. It just disappeared right before her eyes. You think it could be a…” the woman trailed off, seeming to search for the word, “—ghost ship? Alex thinks it could be a ghost ship.” You noticed that the elderly woman’s eyes still had not left Sam. 

The younger Winchester seemed thrown off by her intensity, and he coughed awkwardly. “Well, um, could be.”

“Well. You let me know if there's anything else I can do for you—” she traced her hand down Sam’s slowly, and you and Dean had to bite back smiles— “Anything at all.”

***

Your laughter burst out as soon as you got down the street and far enough away from the house that the old woman couldn’t see you. 

“What a crazy old broad,” Dean chuckled.

“Why? Because she believes in ghosts?” Sam scoffed.

You and his brother laughed louder. “Look at you, sticking up for your girlfriend. You cougar hound.”

“Bite me,” Sam grumbled. 

“No thanks,” you smirked, “bet she will, though.”

“So, who's this Alex? We got another player in town?” Dean questioned.

The brunet shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Doesn't change our job.”

“And what looked like a ghost ship, right?” 

“Yeah. It's not the first one sighted around here, either.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Really?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah. Every thirty-seven years, like clockwork, reports of a vanishing three-mast clipper ship out in the bay. And every thirty-seven years, a rash of weirdo, dry-land drownings.”

“So, whatever's happening is just getting started,” Dean sighed. “What's the lore?”

“Well, there are apparitions of old wrecks sighted all over the world. The S.S. Violet, the Griffin, the Flying Dutchman; almost all of them are death omens.”

“So, what happens? You see the ship and then a few hours later, you pucker up and kiss your ass goodbye?” the older brother snarked. 

“Basically,” shrugged Sam. 

“Next step?” you asked him. 

“I gotta I.D. the boat.”

“That shouldn't be too hard. I mean, how many three-mast clipper ships have wrecked off the coast?” you replied.

“I checked that, too, actually. Over one-hundred and fifty.”

“Oh, great!” you sarcastically noted. 

You and the Winchesters approached an empty parking spot, and you got increasingly confused as you did.

“This is where we parked the car, right?” Dean asked. 

“For sure,” you nodded. 

“Where's my car?” Dean growled. 

“Did you feed the meter?” Sam questioned. 

Dean’s voice began to rise in a panic. “Yes, I fed the meter. Guys, where's my car? Somebody stole my car!”

“Whoa, Dean!” you said, grabbing his arm and trying to keep him from pacing. 

“Somebody stole my ca—” Dean bent over to clutch his knees to calm down. 

“The '67 Impala? Was that yours?” A familiar voice slyly asked. 

“Oh, you bitch,” you grumbled, looking up to see Bela Talbot.

“I'm sorry. I had that car towed,” she said. 

Dean shot up. “You what?!” 

“Well, it was in a tow-away zone,” Bela replied simply. 

“No, it wasn’t!” Dean argued. 

“It was when I finished with it,” she smirked.

“What the hell are you even doing here?” the older brother questioned pointedly.

“A little yachting,” she responded flippantly. 

You clicked your tongue, realizing something. “You’re Alex. Workin’ with that old lady.”

“Gert's a dear old friend,” Bela nodded.

“Yeah, right. What's your angle?” Dean cut his eyes at her.

“There's no angle. There's a lot of lovely old women like Gert up and down the eastern seaboard. I sell them charms, perform séances so they can commune with their dead cats,” Bela grinned.

“And let me guess, it's all a con, none of it's real.”

“The comfort I provide them is very real.”

Sam jumped in finally. “How do you sleep at night?” 

“On silk sheets, rolling naked in money,” she scoffed. “Really, Sam. I'd expect the attitude from him, but you?”

“You shot me!”

“I barely grazed you.”

“She is right,” you murmured.

Bela turned to you. “Cute. But a bit of a drama queen, yeah?” 

“You do know what's going on around here. This ghost-ship thing, it is real,” Dean pressed.

“I'm aware. Thanks for telling Gert the case wasn't solved, by the way,” she said.

Dean looked at her like she was stupid. “It isn't.”

“She didn't know that. Now the old bag's stopped payment, and she's demanding some real answers. Look, just stay out of my way before you cause any more trouble. I'd get to that car if I were you. Before they find the arsenal in the trunk.” Bela turned around and smiled over her shoulder. “Ciao.”

You and the Winchesters watched her go. 

“Can I shoot her?” Dean growled. 

“Not in public,” you and Sam replied. 

***

You encountered Bela once more the next day when another man had been killed. She was posing as a reporter, but you and the brothers managed to shoo her away from the victim’s brother. Unfortunately for him, he’d seen the ship as well. 

Thankfully, you’d gotten the car back, and you headed over to it after questioning the man. It was parked a distance off from the buzzing crime scene, enabling Dean to begin loading shotguns in the back of his car. 

“I see you got your car back,” Bela’s frustratingly beautiful voice cooed. 

“You really want to come near me when I got a loaded gun in my hands?” Dean growled. 

“Now, now. Mind your blood pressure,” she quipped. “Why are you even still here? You have enough to I.D. the boat.”

“That guy back there saw the ship,” you explained. 

“Yeah? And?” 

You blinked at her, slightly stunned by her coldness. “And he’s going to die. We have to help him.”

“How sweet,” she mockingly pouted. 

“What is wrong with you, man?” you asked her. 

She ignored you. “He's cannon fodder. He can't be saved in time, and you know it.”

“But why not at least try?” you argued. 

“Yeah, well, I'm actually going to find the ship and put an end to this. But you have fun,” she grinned tightly. 

Sam and Dean moved to either side of the car, but you weren’t done with her yet. 

Dean seemed to know what you were up to as he watched you intently, saying,

“(Y/N)—” but it was too late. 

“Look, I don’t know what happened to you to make you such a heartless bitch, but I really and truly hope you heal from it soon. ‘Cause you’re a completely miserable person to be around,” you called after her. 

She turned around to you sharply with her arms crossed. “Don't you dare look down your nose at me. You're not better than I am.”

You shook your head. “I don’t think I am. In fact, I know I’m not. But at least I own it and try to be better.”

“Come on,” Bela scoffed. “You do this out of vengeance and obsession. You're all a stone's throw from being serial killers. Whereas I, on the other hand, I get paid to do a job, and I do it. So, you tell me, which is healthier?”

“Oh, god, if I didn’t hate you so much, we’d be such good friends,” you said, a lilt of sincerity in your voice. “But I gotta tell you, man, I’m really not concerned with which is healthier. I’m not even concerned with which is more “morally ethical.” What just… puzzles me about you is how you think that nasty attitude shields you.

"These two might not be able to see it,” you continued, nodding at Sam and Dean, “but I do. You are quite genuinely disappointed in yourself. I get it. The economy sucks, the bees are dying, and movies are all pretty much sequels now. Gotta put food on the table some kind of way. But why do it your way when you can’t even stand to look at yourself in the mirror? Pride. Because without your money and your attitude, you know you’re not half the woman you claim to be.”

“You talk too much,” Bela spat, clearly affected by your words. “Anyone ever tell you that?”

“All the time,” you smirked. “See ya around, Alex.”

***

Later that night, you and the Winchesters decided to stake out the home of Peter Warren, the man you’d spoken to earlier. He was next on the chopping block, and you desperately hoped you’d be able to stop the ghost in time. 

You knew that whatever Sam and Dean were talking about, they would catch you up later. And so, you decided to let your thoughts drag you into your own mind. 

You were aware of how harsh you’d been on Bela. The truth be told, you didn’t hate her at all. In fact, you admired her ambition. However, everything you’d told her had all been your real perception of her. You knew that everything about her was a facade. And for some reason, she really got under your skin. 

You supposed it was because you saw yourself in her. Maybe, if things had been different for you, you would have ended up just like her. Maybe you didn’t like seeing your reflection in her. 

“Hey, you!” someone called from outside the Impala. 

“I think we've been made,” Dean said to you and Sam. 

You followed him across the road to where Peter stood, yelling.

“What are you guys doing?! You watching me?”

“Sir, calm down. Please,” Sam coaxed, but to no avail. 

“You guys aren't cops!” he continued. “Not dressed like that. Not— Not in that crappy car.”

“Whoa, hey. No need to get nasty.” Dean cut his eyes at Peter.

“We are cops, okay? We're undercover,” Sam bluffed easily. “We're here because we think you're in danger.”

“From who?!”

“If you just settle down, we'll talk about it.” Sam led you and his brother into the gate, backing Peter closer to his car.

“Look, you guys just stay away from me!” Peter exclaimed, getting into the vehicle to drive it toward the gate.

“Wait!” you called.

“Hey, you moron! We're trying to help you!”

“Not helping, Dean!”

As the car approached the gate, it shuddered, coughed weakly, and died. 

“That can't be good,” Dean noted. 

“Not at all,” you replied. “Get the salt gun.” Next, you ran to the car to help Peter. In the seat behind him, a man with sunken eyes and dripping wet, long, black hair dressed in old sailor’s clothes appeared. Then, it was next to Peter in the passenger’s seat. You tugged on the handle with all your might, but it wouldn’t budge. Horrified, you watched as Peter slumped to the steering wheel with water pouring from his lips. 

“(Y/N)!” Dean called from behind you. 

You ducked just in time for Dean to fire at the ghost from the passenger’s side door. 

Reaching through the broken glass, you hurriedly unlocked the door. You immediately dragged Peter out onto the concrete and put your head to his chest, listening for a pulse. He had none, but you tried CPR anyway. Of course, it was no use. Defeated, you looked up at Dean with sad eyes. 

“Dammit!” he growled, kicking the car in frustration. 

***

You hadn’t spoken much after leaving Peter behind. It felt awful to leave him on the ground, but there wasn’t much you could do with his body if you wanted to evade suspicion. 

Luckily, Dean had found a house to squat in a few days earlier, and that was where you were readying for bed. 

The house had clearly not been lived in for some time, and you were thankful you made the brothers start keeping air mattresses on them for instances like these. 

You and Dean took the upstairs bedroom, and Sam slept in the one downstairs. The house was still furnished, but dust covered every surface. You decided to leave the cleaning for tomorrow and opted for a “ho bath” as your mother used to call them since you refused to step foot in the unclean shower. 

Cross-legged on the air mattress, the hair you were in the midst of combing through waved gently in the wind coming through the open window. 

“You wanna say it, or should I?” Dean raised an eyebrow at you as he entered the room after his shower. 

You tilted your head at him, confused. 

“You can’t save everybody, sweetheart,” he reminded you. 

“Dean—” You rolled your eyes. 

“What? Don’t gimme that. I know you were thinkin’ it,” Dean said, getting down onto the mattress next to you. He lounged back on the crook of his arm behind his head, leaning against the wall. 

You couldn’t meet his eyes and kept your body facing the open window on the adjacent wall. “I just… It feels like I can’t save anybody lately.”

Dean stared at you intently; you could feel his gaze burning a hole in the side of your head. 

You returned to brushing your hair, and he sat up to sweep it all over your shoulder opposite him. Dean kissed your newly-exposed neck gently, as if he was savoring the way you felt against his lips. Your brushing slowed, and you tilted your neck further to give him more access. 

He kissed up to your mouth; his kiss gentle there, too. When he broke away from you, Dean leaned his forehead against yours. 

“What are you doing to me, sweetheart?” His voice rumbled lowly in his chest, almost as if you weren’t supposed to hear him say that.

You responded by nudging his nose with yours and then pecking his lips. 

Something in the way the two of you kissed felt somber. Granted, almost every day recently seemed to have a somber element. Every day meant one step closer to Dean’s time being up. It was the elephant in the room that was only acknowledged for fleeting moments. And when one did acknowledge it, the other would beg for it to be over. While both of you knew talking about the situation was necessary, neither of you could bear it for longer than a few minutes every once in a while. 

You brought this up to Sam the next morning, who sat with you on the couch as the sun rose while Dean continued to sleep. 

“I think he just wants to be with you,” Sam said. “I mean, with Jess… when I was dreaming about her dying, all I wanted to do was be with her. To… reassure me that wasn’t real. Or, wasn’t real yet, I guess.”

You nodded. “And I don’t necessarily want to talk about it for extended periods of time. Talking about it makes me feel more in control, I think. I just don’t like feeling fucking helpless.”

“Trust me, I don’t either. And Dean definitely doesn’t. I tend to micromanage more than he does, but…” he shrugged, trailing off. 

“I have something else to tell you,” you began, wondering if you should even continue. 

“Go ‘head.”

“Back at that… prison. The guard I beat up? He, um, he raped me.”

“Oh, my god,” Sam breathed out. “God, (Y/N/N), I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine. That’s not the point.” You scrubbed your hands down your thighs anxiously. “I’m telling you because I don’t wanna talk to Dean about it. I mean, with the deal and everything else going on… I almost don’t wanna burden him with it? I mean, he knows, obviously, but… I don’t know, I just feel like I have no right to be struggling compared to him.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Sam scolded gently. “(Y/N), neither of us could ever imagine what that’s like. And if my idiot brother is making you feel that way—”

“No, no, he’s not—”

“—Good! ‘Cause I’d kill ‘im if he was,” Sam finished. It was honestly the most riled up you’d seen him in a while. 

“Thanks, Sammy,” you smiled weakly. “It’s just… it’s all so much right now. I wanna enjoy every second of my time with Dean. But between the deal and hunts and… that and everything else on the goddamn planet consuming me every second of the fucking day, it’s really hard to.”

Sam eyed you sympathetically.

Before he could respond, you took in a shaky breath, steadying yourself. “Anyway, what’s up with Peter and his brother? I know you researched ‘em yesterday while I was zoned out in the back of the car.”

Sam still seemed like he was wrapped up in your earlier conversation, but he knew better than to force you to keep talking about. “Oh, yeah, uh… they came into, like, a hundred and twelve million after their dad passed. That was really the only thing interesting. Everything else about ‘em was clean,” he informed you. 

“Huh,” you considered. “Any connection between the vics?”

Sam pursed his lips. “Far as I can tell, no.”

“Awesome,” you dryly stated. 

You then heard a groan come from upstairs as someone began to descend the staircase. 

“Morning, Dee,” you called up. 

All you got was a grunt in response. 

***

You sat with your knees pulled to your chest, wrapped by Dean’s arms as he held you to his side. The two of you were just sitting with each other and thinking; a pastime that you were becoming quite fond of.

Dean’s lazy circles he was tracing on your outer leg stopped at a knock on the door. 

You shot Dean a look and stood, grabbing your gun off the worn coffee table. You pressed it to the back of the door and peered through the peephole to unfortunately see Bela. At this revelation, you made a face at Sam and opened the door. 

She strolled right in. “Dear... god. Are you actually squatting? Charming.” Her self-satisfied smirk never left her face. “So, how'd things go last night with Peter?”

You refused to dignify her with a response as did Sam and Dean. 

“That well, huh?” she taunted. “If you say 'I told you so,’ I swear to god; I'll start swinging,” Dean growled. 

“Look, I think the four of us should have a heart-to-heart,” she sighed. 

“Oh, sure. We can sing kumbaya while we’re at it,” you quipped. “Cut to the chase, Bela.”

“Temper, temper,” she tsked. “I come bearing gifts.”

“Such as?” Sam questioned.

“I've ID'd the ship.” She unwrapped a leather case containing a quite elaborate file. She spread the papers within it across the table. “It's the Espírito Santo: a merchant sailing vessel; quite a colorful history. In 1859 a sailor was accused of treason. He was tried aboard ship in a kangaroo court and hanged. He was thirty-seven.”

“Which would explain the thirty-seven year cycle,” Sam noted.

“Aren’t you a sharp tack?”

You snapped, “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

She ignored your comment. “There's a photo of him somewhere…” she flipped through the file and finally settled on a picture of a much drier version of the man you’d seen last night.

Dean looked to Sam. “Isn't that the customer we saw last night?” 

“You saw him?” For once, Bela seemed surprised. 

“Yeah, that's him, except he was missing a hand,” the older brother nodded. 

“His right hand?” Bela questioned.

“How'd you know?” you returned. 

“The sailor's body was cremated, but not before they cut off his hand to make a hand of glory,” she explained. 

Dean childishly laughed. “A hand of glory? I think I got one of those at the end of my Thai massage last week.”

“Dean, the right hand of a hanged man is a serious occult object. It's very powerful,” Sam lightly chastised. 

Bela rolled her eyes. “So they say.”

“And officially counts as remains,” Dean considered. 

Sam’s eyebrows pinched together. “But still, none of this explains why the ghost is choosing these victims.”

“I'll tell you why. Who cares?” Bela said curtly. “Find the hand, burn it, and stop the bloody thing.”

“I don't get it. Why are you telling us all of this?” you asked.

“Because I know exactly where the hand is,” she nodded. 

“Where?”

“At the Sea Pines Museum. It's a macabre bit of maritime history. But I need help,” she said, closing up the file.

Sam crossed his arms. “What kind of help?”

The woman smiled. You hated how charming her smile was. You wanted to hate her so badly, but she was growing on you.

‘Definitely like a wart. Maybe a fungal infection,’ you thought.

***

“I hate this plan,” you said. 

“I don’t think you realize how often you say that,” Dean returned. 

You glared up at him while you helped adjust his tie. He looked completely beautiful, and you wanted nothing more than to keep him here with you and ravish his body. 

Bela’s brilliant plan was bringing Dean as her date and forcing Sam to go with Ms. Case to a charity event. However, given Bela and Ms. Case could only take one guest each, you were forced to sit this one out. Or, at least, that was what Bela thought; you knew she could’ve gotten you in if she really wanted to. You knew she was attempting to humiliate you or put you in your place after what you said to her. However, if there was one thing you knew, it was how to crash a party.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” Dean asked you. 

“You,” you smiled lopsidedly up at him. 

He smirked down at you and kissed you. He held you by your waist as close to him as he could get you, and you returned the gesture by gripping his lapels. 

“What is taking so long?” Bela called up the stairs, forcing you and Dean apart. “Sam's already halfway there... with his date.”

“So not okay with this!” Dean yelled back, and you giggled, resting your forehead on his chest.

“What are you, a woman? Come down already.”

Dean looked at you— for approval? For reassurance?— and headed down the stairs. He adjusted his cufflinks with you trailing just behind him in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Bela looked beautiful in her evening gown and glittering jewels, of course, and you hated her all the more for it. 

“Alright, get it out,” Dean encouraged you and Bela. “I look ridiculous.”

“Not exactly the word I'd use,” Bela sighed. 

Dean’s nose crinkled in disgust. “What?”

“Y’know, when this is over, we should really have angry sex,” Bela stated plainly.

“Don’t objectify him!” you cut her off; perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. 

Both Dean and Bela stared at you in questioning. 

“Let’s go,” Dean told Bela. “See ya, sweetheart,” he called back to you as he followed Bela out the door. He tossed one more longing look at you over his shoulder before closing the door behind him. 

You immediately sprinted back up the stairs and took out the evening gown you’d been hiding in your duffel bag. 

***

After having snuck into the party through a window on the back of the museum that security had neglected to cover a door anywhere near, you casually slipped down the hall into the ballroom. 

You could see Dean, Bela, and Sam bickering near the entrance to the grand ballroom, and you smiled lopsidedly at the sight. Sam then caught sight of you moving through the crowds of people toward them thanks to his superhuman height, as did Bela and then, Dean. Bela crossed her arms angrily, but you were focused on Dean and trying to fight a smile off your face. 

Dean seemed to be breathless. “Damn, (Y/N).” 

“Damn, yourself.” You turned to Bela. “Great party,” you commented, taking a glass of champagne off a passing tray. 

“Thought you were supposed to be waiting back at the house,” Bela replied. 

“And miss all the fun? No thanks,” you smirked, taking a sip and staining the glass with red lipstick. 

Ms. Case then came up behind Sam holding two glasses of champagne. Before he knew it, he was being whisked away by his date. You giggled at the sight, and Bela rolled her eyes. “C’mon,” she told Dean. 

You were delighted, actually. For once, you got to enjoy a fancy party without having to partake in the hunt or any sort of planning the heist. All you had to do was make sure no one got arrested. 

You hung back on a far wall, sipping your beverage and watching a disgruntled Sam dance with a very handsy Ms. Case. 

‘Dean would be pissing himself,’ you thought, giggling at the sight. 

The next thing you knew, the old woman was whispering in Sam’s ear. You had to cover your mouth with your hand to keep the laugh from bursting out. 

And then, your joy was smothered. 

“Hi, gorgeous,” a man said, having come up next to you. 

“Go away, please,” you snapped, beginning to feel tension grip your throat. You weren’t sure what it was about him, but he was reminding you of what happened to you at the prison. Perhaps it was the way he approached you?

“Okay, then, Jesus,” he muttered and was gone soon after. 

Your breathing began to slow, but your discomfort continued. Your heart rate remained elevated, and your mind felt in a fog. You returned your focus to Sam and Ms. Case once more trying to keep your mind grounded in the present. 

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your elbow. You whipped around and threw a punch, catching the attention of several people around you.

“Whoa!” Dean said, catching your wrist and dodging your fist. 

Gaze landing on those beautiful green eyes and freckles that you had come to love so much, your breathing finally slowed. You began regaining awareness of the world around you and tried not to shrink under the stares of the wealthy around you.

“Way to not draw attention there, (Y/N),” Bela commented. 

Eyes like daggers, your head snapped toward her. “Watch your fucking mouth,” you hissed.

She seemed to realize she’d crossed a boundary, and she backed off. “I’m gonna go get Gert a cold shower,” she quipped, her pride refusing to admit she knew she was wrong. 

You stared after Bela mindlessly, and Dean put his first and middle finger under your chin to turn your face back to him. Your eyelashes flickered, and he searched your face for clues as to what triggered you. 

Sam came up beside you and Dean. “Guys? Uh, hate to interrupt, but… let’s get outta here.” 

You and Dean followed his gaze to one of the women you’d seen whispering and pointing at you after you threw a punch at Dean talking to a security guard and pointing at your trio. Dean instantly grabbed your hand and began leading you out of the museum. 

When you arrived at the car, Sam turned to you. “You okay? Saw you try to deck Dean back there.”

“Yeah, uh… this guy just—” you ran a hand through your hair and sighed— “Nevermind. Let’s see the hand.”

Both boys dropped it, although you knew Sam would probe you further later. 

“Yeah, tell me I didn't get groped all night by Mrs. Havisham for nothing,” the younger brother commented. 

“I got it... Mrs. Who?” Dean wondered. 

You giggled. “Great Expectations?” you prompted.

Dean just stared at you blankly. 

“Charles Dickens?”

He blinked. 

“Dude, did you pay any attention in high school English?” Sam scoffed.

“Sure I did!” the older brother defended. “Caroline Stone sat in front of me; she was my tutor. Fucked her in the janitor’s closet and everything—”

“Oh, yeah, you were definitely paying attention to something,” you deadpanned, lightly flicking him on the shoulder. 

He rustled around in his suit jacket, rolling his eyes, and took out something wrapped in a handkerchief. Dean’s amused expression soon melted into aggravation as he did so.

“What?” you and Sam asked worriedly. 

The older Winchester held up a glass bottle with a miniature ship rocking around in it. “I'm gonna kill her.”

Behind Dean, you saw something on the horizon line. The museum was expectedly located near the water given its emphasis on seafaring history, and your heart dropped when you realized what was happening. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered under your breath. “Dean— Dean, I see it.”

“See what?” he asked, following your gaze. 

“The fucking ship, Dean. It’s the fucking ship,” you breathed out.

“(Y/N), that’s it,” Sam realized.

“What’s it?” you questioned frantically, eyes still on the water.

“Ms. Case said the Warrens? The brothers? It was rumored they killed their father for his money. And Sheila? She got in a car accident. Her cousin Brian was with her, and he died. That’s the pattern.”

You nodded slowly. “Killing family members. Awesome.” You shook your head, turning to the expensive car next to you. “Fuck!” you yelled, punching the door of the car. 

***

You paced around the room, Sam trying his best to keep you and Dean calm while he researched. 

“Y’know what, you’re right. I'm not gonna kill her. I think slow torture's the way to go,” Dean growled. “I’ll fuckin’ string her up, I swear to—”

“Dean, look, you gotta relax,” Sam sighed, although he seemed stressed as well. 

“Relax!” Dean laughed coldly. “Oh yeah, yeah, I'll relax. My fuckin’ girl’s just on Davy Jones’s hit list, and I can’t do anything to stop him because I lost the only fuckin’ thing we could use to save her. Fuck!” There was suddenly a frantic knocking on the door. Disgust burning in your eyes when you looked through the peephole, you opened the door for Bela. 

“Just let me explain,” she said. “I sold it. I had a buyer lined up as soon as I knew it existed.” 

Dean was completely furious, and he stalked around her. He made a shooting motion with his fingers which would’ve pulled a smile for you had it not been for your situation. 

“So you needed a cover for the charity ball,” you spat. “And we were convenient.”

She nodded reluctantly.

“Look, you sold it to a buyer. Just go buy it back,” Sam implored. 

Bela shook her head woefully. “It's halfway across the ocean. I can't get it back in time.”

“In time for what?” Dean questioned. 

Realization struck you, and you began laughing coldly. “Oh, okay. You saw it, too.”

She looked up at you, and for the first time since you’d met her, Bela looked terrified.

Dean whistled lowly. “Wow, you know, I- I knew you were an immoral, thieving, con-artist bitch, but just when I thought my opinion of you couldn't get any lower—”

“What are you talking about?” she cut him off. 

“We figured out the spirit’s motive,” Sam began, putting a photograph in front of Bela. “This is the captain of our ship. The one who hung our ghost boy.”

“So?” she prompted. 

“So they were brothers. Very Cain and Abel. So now our spirit, he's going after a very specific kind of target – people who've spilled their own family’s blood. See, first, there was Sheila who killed her cousin in the car accident, and the Warren brothers, who murdered their father for the inheritance. Then, (Y/N). And now you.”

“Oh, my god,” Bela breathed out, seeming to breeze right by the fact that you’d seen the ship, too. 

“So who was it, Bela? Hmm?” Dean taunted. “Who'd you kill? Was it Daddy? Your little sis, maybe?”

“It’s none of your business,” she defended weakly. 

“It is our fuckin’ business,” Dean snapped, suddenly leaning on the arms of her chair. “(Y/N) saw it, too. And I don’t give a damn about you. But (Y/N)... is…” he trailed off, shaking his head and hanging it low, seemingly overcome with emotion. “And you just sold the one thing that could possibly save her life.”

“Well,” Sam said, “maybe not the only thing.”

All three of you turned to face Sam questioningly. 

***

Kneeling on the soft grass beside the grave of the captain, you helped the boys set up a ritual circle under the light of the full moon. 

“Do you really think this is going to work?” Bela asked worriedly, standing to the side. She pulled her jacket around her shoulders tightly.

“Almost definitely not,” Dean grumbled, looking over at you. 

You smiled weakly at him trying to reassure him that you would be okay.

Thunder clapped unexpectedly, and the wind whistled around you. Rain began to pour, soaking you to the bone in an instant.

“Sammy! You better start reading!” Dean ordered, pulling you up from the ground and shielding you with his body.

The younger brother obeyed, and then, Bela shouted, “Behind you!”

Dean was immediately flung through the air away from you, and you wheeled around to see the ghost you’d seen at the Warren’s house. Before you could raise your gun to shoot him, he put his hands on either side of your head. Immediately, you began coughing up water. It felt like your throat was closing as the air slowly left your panicking body. 

Dean staggered over to you and tried to support you through your heaving, shuddering breaths. “Sammy, read faster!”

Black spots began to form in your vision, and you were sure it was the end. Then, the rain died down. The wind billowed gently, and the spirit’s head turned slowly toward a creaking sound.

“You... hanged me!” the spirit cried at his brother. 

“I’m sorry,” the captain responded pitifully. 

“Your own brother.”

“I’m so sorry!”

The spirit charged his brother, leaving you a sputtering mess on the floor. You heard the two men scream, and then, they both went quiet. 

***

After parting ways with Bela for the evening, you returned to the house for a few hours of sleep. However, laying next to Dean— the moon illuminating his freckled skin and occasionally-fluttering eyelashes, breaths deep enough to move his chiseled shoulders along with his chest— you couldn’t sleep. Since he’d drifted off about an hour ago, you’d been lazily stroking his hair; the two of you facing each other. 

Then, Dean took in a deep breath, stretching out on his back. It became clear to you that he’d woken up, though his eyes remained closed, when he kissed the inside of your wrist. Soon enough, his breathing became steady once more. He kept you snuggled tightly into his right side; legs intertwined and breathing beginning to mirror each other’s. 

And then, it hit you: you’d felt oddly at peace, as much as you’d tried to deny it, when the ghost put his hands on the sides of your head. Even when you were in excruciating pain— lungs burning and eyes watering— you were almost relieved. Because if you’d died tonight, that meant you wouldn’t have to live without Dean. 

***

Given your realization the previous evening, you wandered around in a daze all morning. You had never enjoyed depending on others. Needing help was so pathetic in your mind, and you refused to ask for it. Despite the way you encouraged Dean to open up and accept help, you couldn’t take your own advice. After your mother’s devotion to your father led her to standing by idly while her two children were beaten black and blue, you swore that you would never let a man rule your life in any sense of the word. And now, Dean was consuming you. 

However, this devotion didn’t feel hopeless. It didn’t feel messy. You didn’t feel your essence deteriorating while he hacked away, carving space and indelibly marking your soul. This devotion was welcomed. Allowed. Encouraged. You were willingly handing your beating heart to him, and you knew you could take it back at any time.

Before Dean, you never trusted anyone. You would never have allowed someone to walk beside you through Hell before you met him. Try as others might have, Dean was the only person to mesh harmoniously with your body, mind, and soul. 

When Bela came to say her goodbyes, though, you forced yourself out of your thoughts. After she’d thoroughly amused Dean with the ten thousand dollars she gave the three of you to repay her debt, she swaggered out of the door. You surprised even yourself when you followed her out. 

“Bela!” you called.

She turned back to you. “Sorry, darling, all out of goodies for the day—”

“I don’t want your money,” you cut her off. “I wanted you to know that… whatever you did, I understand. The boys may never, but I saw the ship, too. Whether we like it or not, we’re pretty similar; you and me.”

She seemed stunned by your admission. 

“Take my number,” you told her, pressing a piece of paper into her hand. “If ever you feel like slummin’ it for a crappy beer in a dive bar. Or if you run into any more ghost ships.”

That stunned Bela even more as you turned on your heel and headed back inside. 

*** “Seriously? Atlantic City?” Sam scoffed. 

Dean had you speeding toward a casino with the money Bela gave you as night fell that evening. “Hell yeah! Play some roulette. Always bet on black.” He paused for a minute, allowing the air to shift in the car. “Hey listen, I've been doing some thinking. Um... I want you to know I understand why you did it. I understand why you went after the crossroads demon.”

Sam sighed, much to your surprise. You figured he’d be thankful to hear Dean’s admission. 

“Y’know, situation was reversed,” Dean continued, “I guess I'd 've done the same thing. I mean, I'm not blind, I see what you're going through with this whole deal; me going away and all that. But you're gonna be okay.”

Sam looked upset at that. “You think so.”

“Yeah, you'll keep hunting, y'know, you live your life. You’re stronger than me.” At Sam’s scoff, Dean exclaimed, “You are! You are. You'll get over it. But I want you to know I'm sorry, I’m sorry for... putting you through all this, I am.”

“Y’know what, Dean? Go fuck yourself,” Sam spat. 

“What?” Dean questioned. You were stunned as well.

“I don't want an apology from you! And by the way, I'm a big boy now, I can take care of myself,” Sam continued his tirade.

“Oh, well, excuse me,” Dean grumbled. 

“So would you please quit worrying about me?” Sam shouted over his brother. “I mean, that's the whole problem in the first place. I don't want you to worry about me, Dean, I want you to worry about you! I want you to give a crap that you’re dying!”

“He does, Sam, knock it off!” you jumped in for the first time. After all, it was you that had planted the seed to Dean that he should have apologized to Sam.

Dean said nothing, and you could tell by the smirk on his face that he wouldn’t be displaying vulnerability with Sam again for quite some time. 

“So, that's it? Nothing else to say for you?” Sam pushed. 

“I think maybe I'll play craps,” Dean stated.

Outraged, Sam just stared at him in complete disbelief. He turned to the window, and you continued to watch Dean. His smile faded to a steely, difficult-to-read expression.

Sighing, you settled stretched out across the seat and crossed your arms over your chest. Dean’s eyes met yours briefly in the rearview mirror, and you saw a flicker of his real feelings— hurt, betrayal, fear— cross his face before his expression returned to unreadable. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[bratzbrat]

✟The Witch Hunter!

pairing: a witch!hunter! Katsuki Bakugo x fem!reader.

cw: mentions of death!/ death threats! | female reader! | mature language! | please proceed with caution! |

1.7k+ words.

ΝϴͲᎬ: hi bugs! sorry it took this long for chapter 4! but I've been up at late hours taking care of my grandma and carrying her for check ups at the hospital these past few days. she's doing better now! so hope ya enjoy!

⊰𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 pt.1⊱ »»————> Bitter Hunter...

"good, you're up," he grunted, noticing your glare as you struggled against the shackles. "we're continuin' on foot."

"are you serious?" you scoffed, tugging against the restraints. "you went all the way back there, just to chain me up again?"

"damn right i did," he shot back, his eyes narrowing. "ain't giving ya' any more chances to use yer tricks."

rolling your eyes, you rose to your feet, "if i wanted to do anything, I would've done so last night..." you scowled, shaking off the cold stiffness lingering in your body from the night before. "so, you're going to drag me through the snow like this?" and your eyes widened as you realized... you were already dressed... though the delicate silver armor that once adorned your core, was missing, but he didn't give you much time to dwell on it

"got a problem?" he challenged, folding his arms. "didn't think so. now, move it." he gripped your arm and tugged you forward with a curt, "let's go."

as he dragged you out of the little house, you we're met with green sceneries, all around, as if snow hadn't almost buried you alive last night, and you gawked at the sight in disbelief. the forest floor was covered in patches of grass and flowers, you could hear the faint sound of running water in a nearby river and birds chirping from their homes in the towering trees. it was unbelievable. and the hunter tugged you forward, to start walking.

you tried keeping pace behind him, your breath picking up as you struggled to follow. the chill in the morning air and the heels you wore were doing you no favors. and each time he pulled on your chains, you winced, feeling bruises form on your wrists.

"can't you at least ease up a bit?" you suggested, trying to maintain a light tone, despite your growing fatigue. "it's not like i'm going anywhere."

"shut it, witch," he shot back, focus unwavering as he navigated the uneven terrain. "the last thing I need is you fallin' behind."

you huffed, rolling your eyes. "well i'm not exactly keen on being here. you're the one dragging me behind you."

"i could leave yer ass here, if you'd like." he muttered, and you could hear the overflowing sarcasm in his voice.

"is this your idea of kindness, then? like last night?" you asked, tilting your head slightly. "what generousity from a witch hunter."

"don' twist it," he growled, glancing back at you with that familiar scowl. "it was survival. that's it. nothin' more."

"sure it was, it's not like you were pressing my bare chest into yours... with your fingers almost digging into my back, might I add..." you retorted, unable to help yourself from teasing him a little. "i thought maybe we'd formed a connection, you know?"

"don' get ahead of yourself," he replied, barely sparing you a glance. "it wasn't like that, it ain't like that, and it won't ever be." he stressed, "i'll never feel anythin' for a witch."

you felt a sting at his words, but you quickly brushed it off. "right, it's ridiculous to think otherwise..." you muttered to yourself.

every step you took was met with sharp rocks and thorny brambles, tearing at your exposed ankles. the blonde hot head, grunted in frustration, each time you stumbled, with a scowl etched across his almost perfect face. the shackles clinked with every move, limiting your balance and speed. when you tripped over an uneven stone and landed hard on your knee, he clicked his tongue in annoyance, folding his arms as if to say, 'of course.'

"can't even walk fuckin' straight without makin' things harder, can ya'?" he growled, looking back at you on the ground.

you shot him a glare, pulling yourself up. "maybe I wouldn't keep tripping if I wasn't chained up like this!"

"maybe you wouldn't be, if I trusted you," he shot back, with a slight bit of mockery in his tone. "now stop whinin' and keep movin'."

your steps felt heavier the longer you walked, and your shoes—meant for anything but landscaping— only worsened the ordeal. a sharp pain pulsed through your foot as you stumbled once more, and you let out a frustrated huff.

"agh- my feet—" you started.

and mr. hot head cut you off with an annoyed snarl, "then quit wearin' those ridiculous fuckin' shoes. ain't doin' anyone favors with 'em."

you bit your tongue, resisting the urge to snap back. the exhaustion was setting in, making it harder to ignore the ache in your feet, the rawness of your wrists and the ever-growing hunger gnawing at your stomach. finally, you had enough.

"stop," you said, tugging back against his grip. "we need to rest."

he spun around, eyes narrowed in irritation. "y'think just 'cause yer tired we're takin' a break? newsflash, princess: we ain't got the luxury."

you stood firm, refusing to budge. "you can grunt all you want, i'm not going anywhere until I can feel my feet again."

he let out a rough exhale, "we're movin', even if I gotta drag ya' the whole way." clearly at the end of his patience.

you dropped to the ground with a huff, closing your eyes for a moment, letting the brief reprieve calm your pounding heart. and you could feel his glare fixed on you.

you looked up at him, undeterred by his hostility. "without my cooperation, we'd have a pretty slim chance of making it out of here alive, you know." you said, your tone unwavering.

his eyes narrowed down at you again and his jaw clenched at your words. "i don' need a godsdamn witch's help," he sneered, "just need you alive long enough to haul your ass back to stand trial. if i gotta drag ya' the whole way there, i will."

"and what then? you think a stiff-necked trial will do anything but waste everyone's time?" you scoffed, rolling your eyes. you could get out of this anytime you wanted...

his lips curled into a bitter smirk. "that stiff-necked trial decides the exact way yer gonna die." he lowered himself down in front of you, "people 're gonna pay good coin to see yer head roll." and sneered, making sure he looked you dead in the eyes. " 'n if they choose torture instead, i'll make sure ya' beg for death. 'cause i'll be the one carryin' it out." his eyes drifted from yours to your slightly parted lips, then quickly darted back up again.

"before that, hunter, i'll make you beg for the help of a witch." you challenged, getting a little lost in his fire.

his words had snapped a few heartstrings that formed when held you for warmth, and you cursed yourself for feeling even a ounce of anything for him, as you looked into his crimson eyes. "so beautiful," you whispered, barely audible and he shuffled back a bit, glaring at you.

you met his stare again, shaking off that thought. "you better pray to the goddess, that we don't run into trouble. you might be strong, but even the strongest have their weaknesses."

he scoffed at your —uncalled for— words, but the flicker of hesitation in his eyes was there, even if, just for a second. ignoring it, he gave a sharp tug on your arm, forcing you back to your feet. "we're wastin' daylight. let's go." was all he brought himself to say.

-

the hours crawled by as you trudged forward and just when you thought you couldn't bear it any longer, you saw a small village ahead, nestled in the valley, like it was forgotten by the rest of the world.

he paused, surveying the huts and cabins, with a tense expression before turning to you. "listen up," he commanded, "keep any 'n all of your... witch crap hidden. last thing I need is anyone seein' me with a livin' one o' you."

"aw, and we were just on the brink of becoming friends too..." you pouted, feigning disappointment.

"try anythin', and I mean at all, and you'll regret it." he shot you a sharp glare, and you had to suppress an amused laugh.

"we wouldn't want that, would we?" you teased, locking eyes with him just before he tugged at your chains, leading you into the village.

you trailed behind him, your eyes drifting over the skeletal remains of what used to be a village. crumbling huts and rotting beams cast shadows across the ash-covered ground, each step stirring up fragments of the life that had once been here. and the only sounds being the crunch of your footsteps.

"oi, witch, keep up. ain't got all day for you to gawk at some broken-down village." he grunted in irritation, glancing back to see you lingering near one of the collapsed structures.

you raised a brow. "what's the matter? are you scared a curse might rub off on you?" you teased.

"tch," he scoffed, turning away from you. "i ain't scared of some pathetic curse. just don' wanna spend any more time in witch-infested places than I gotta." but that wasn't it. something else had been rubbing him in all wrong ways as he scanned the area.

a smirk tugged at your lips as you followed him, sensing his unease. "you're jumpier than I expected for a witch hunter," you muttered under your breath, knowing he could hear.

he whipped around, "i'm not a witch hunter, i'm the witch hunter. the best there is. so watch it. witch." he spat back, quick to correct you.

rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms. "if you were actually the best, you'd know curses don't stick like that."

"like i'd trust anythin' ya' say, witch. all yer people do is twist words to get what ya' want." he sneered, glaring back at you.

shaking your head, you brushed past him, challenging his intense stare. "believe what you will, hunter. and you better hope your strength is enough, for if we run into anything more than a curse here."

you jinxed it...

a low, guttural rumble vibrated through your body, a sound that sent a chill down your spine. and you spun around, searching for what that could've possibly come out of. your mind racing as you considered what kind of creature was watching you— a tiger? bear? something worse?

find the previous chapters in my masterlist!

chapter 4 pt.2

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed!

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✟The Witch Hunter!

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©𝐵𝑙𝑢♡

»»————>𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

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[diabolicalacid]

birds of a feather— the head and the heart

warning/s : nsfw (smut), minors DNI.

atsumu’s hand reaches for the dial to turn off the sound system of his car. the soft music in the backdrop of him and you fades as his fingers rotate the dial to zero. he puts his foot on the break, halting the car in front of the gate to your dormitory, exactly where he had parked it when he received you in the morning.

you surmise this is your cue to leave. today has been fun, not it’s time to end the day, go your separate ways. you don’t want to, but that’s what the deal between the two of you was. a day full of fun, then it’s all over.

you take a look at your cellphone, checking in the time. it’s half past ten, a little before your curfew. if you don’t hurry, they won’t let you in. you twist your body in order to take hold of your belongings from his backseat, but he quickly makes an effort to grab your shoulder. he stops you in your tracks.

“wait.” he orders, opening the door to his car.

he alights, voice fading in a distance, “i’ll get it for you.”

atsumu quickly opens the door to the backseat and grabs all of your stuff, including the bouquet of flowers he offered you this morning. he proceeds to make his way to the door to the passenger seat. he swings it opens it for you, holding out his hand for you to take. for a moment, you find yourself hesitating.

you wonder if a few more moments of proximity with this man might cost you your dignity. if you let him hold you at the end of day, you’d start thinking it’s unfair how this good thing has to come to an end, and you’d beg for him to make it last longer. you’d lose your footing, end up looking extremely desperate, but you’d want him to have you regardless. despite deductions, you’re quick to accept his offer.

you place your palm over his. he wraps his hand around yours, helping you out of the car seat. you push the car door behind you. he hands you your tote bag and the bouquet of flowers. you receive it, offering him a gentle smile. he doesn’t let go of your hand, and you find it difficult to hold everything using one hand.

atsumu notices, relieving you of your tote bag. your hand is still held by his. you gulp as he pulls you closer to him. his hand releases your own and finds your waist, and he’s smiling softly at you. he really isn’t making this easy, if anything, you think you’re about to combust into a thousand burning flames. you’ll just take the liberty to pretend you haven’t been feeling the exact way since the beginning.

he takes the initiative, “i’ll drop you off to your room.”

“you don’t have to.” you’re quick to refuse his kind offer, coming off rather impolite.

you need to consider that amane san must be on rounds right now, and the last thing you want is to get caught sneaking in a perfect stranger into your room. as far as things with tobio went, amane was well acquainted with him, so she stopped taking things seriously after one point. but atsumu is a completely new entity, and you don’t want to wreak a havoc.

his hand that is enveloping your waist, tightens it’s hold around your figure, drawing you closer to his body, and you seek support, holding onto his arm. he insists, “but i want to.”

you want to deny deny deny, but his hold on you is making you so damn weak. your heart is a gullible child not even your head can convince otherwise. then there’s also the second surprise you prepared for atsumu, staying up all night yesterday. you were planning to discard it, since you thought you overdid yourself. but in the end you surmised that it would be best to hand it over.

though you intended on making him wait by the car so that you could make your way to your room and grab the gift to bring it to him, now it seems it wouldn’t hurt to invite the man to your room. whatever follows this bold decision of yours will be purely as intended by destiny.

as much as you’d like to shift the blame on the gift you prepared, deep down you know that your heart is the full fledged culprit. you’ve never been a bold person, but right now, you’re overflowing with courage you never knew you had.

you’ve snuck in tobio plenty of times without ever getting caught, so atsumu shouldn’t be a problem either. you’ll just have to play it safe. you’ll have to make him follow your instructions to the t, and it’ll be just fine. nothing to worry about per se.

“okay.” you grant him the permission to take you to your room, taking a step away from him. you don’t mention that you plan on inviting him inside.

atsumu’s smile widens and gaze locks into yours. It’s so contagious, you find yourself smiling back at him. he chuckles, mentioning a crucial point, “not sure where you stay, you’ll have to be the one to guide me, cutie.”

he pokes your cheek, you swat his hand off your face, glaring at his action. you growl, “let me go.”

but he isn’t swayed. so you request, “please?”

atsumu withdraws the hand placed around your waist. you try to encase his hand in your own, but yours is just too small to cut the deal. you drop his huge hand in frustration.

atsumu chuckles at you. your glare intensifies furthermore. you decide not to entertain him, commanding as you start walking toward your dormitory, “follow.” and so he does.

once you reach the lobby, you find yourself at crossroads once again. whether to invite him in or not to invite him in. it’s a pressing matter that needs to be thought through.

the possibilities are endless, and you aren’t sure which amongst them is the most favourable for you, or if you’ll ever reach the ending you so desperately desire for.

you think for a moment or two. he isn’t sure what the hold up is. now that he’s safely escorted you in, the next obvious thing to do should be to say your goodbyes and go your own ways. the one day contract between him and you should officially end as of right now, and you should be treading your own separate paths, never colliding again.

you give in. your heart gives in. you decide you want to invite him to your room. whatever may be the consequences, you’ll come to face them bravely when you have to.

you muster the courage to speak up. nervously rubbing the skin of your arm as you ask him, “i’ve prepared something for you. do you mind coming to my room?”

it isn’t an understatement to say that he’s shook. you’re quite bold to bring that up, and he wasn’t expecting it. neither were you. but here you are, asking him to come over, and here he is, contemplating whether it’s a good idea to go over.

he doesn’t give it much thought. he thinks for a second, then decides to go for it, agreeing, “alright, i don’t mind.”

“but no naughty business, cutie.” he winks at you, teasing as he pulls you in his embrace, hands casing your waist, bodies hanging only a few centimetres apart.

your cheeks instantly flush a deep red shade, and your gaze drops to the floor. you mumble, rolling your eyes, “i don’t know which one one of us needs the warning more.”

atsumu moves a loose strand of your hair out of the way, and tucks it behind your ear, inching in closer to your face to whisper to you, “exactly what are your intentions with me, cutie?”

you cannot take it anymore, it’s too much. the tension between atsumu and you is far too much than your fragile heart can take, and in the moment, you vacillate, quickly taking a step back to free yourself from his grasp.

you clear your throat, breathing in a haste, clarifying oneself, “i have no intentions of doing what you’re thinking of.”

“and exactly how do you know what it is that i’m thinking of, cutie?” he smirks, cupping your chin to level your eyes with his so as to hold your gaze, “you don’t read minds, or do you?”

“because then you’d know i’m thinking no pure thoughts.” he sneers, pecking the corner of your lip, then your neck.

you tremble as you feel his heavy breath against your neck, a wise thought dashing to your mind, wondering if it’s still a good idea to invite him in. your hand pushes him away, and you separate yourself from him before it becomes detrimental for you.

you fix your eyes to the floor, relenting to spare him a look, as you’re still too nervous to allow yourself to hold his gaze. you mutter, grimacing, “i didn’t know if i knew what you wanted back then, but i do now.”

“good.” atsumu walks over to you, cupping your chin once again, coercing you to look him in the eye, ridiculing you, “and you still think it’s a good idea to invite me over?”

“i don’t want my gift to go to waste.” you hiss, grabbing his hand in order to force him to release your chin, but his grip is too strong for you to negotiate.

annoyed, you drop the effort, menacingly fixing your gaze elsewhere so that you don’t have to meet his. it would be too much for you if you stare into his eyes any longer. you’re already faltering as it is, you don’t know what consequences this will lead to. you’re sure none of them will be holy. next thing you know, you might kiss miya atsumu like there’s no tomorrow, allowing him to take you whole.

he lets go of you, asking as he looks in the direction of the entrance to the building, “where to, cutie?” he spanks you, jolting you in the direction of the entrance.

you jibe at him, “don’t get too freaky, miya.”

“you aren’t getting anything out of me.” you warn, and atsumu scoffs. you’re glaring daggers at him.

you roll your eyes, “be respectful, will you?”

“alright, lead me, my liege.” he requests, bowing down to you.

you moue at his terrible theatrics, stepping into the building, looking around for amane’s presence on the ground floor.

you confirm amane’s absence and take his hand, jolting towards the stairs to climb to your floor. you’re careful with every floor you ascend, avoiding amane like a pro. once you’re on the third floor, having successfully avoided her, you peep around to discover a suitable spot for him to hide until you can scan around to make sure the coast leading to your room is safe and sound.

“there.” you point at one of the pillers, gesturing him to take a spot behind it, “hide.”

“don’t come out until i wave my hand.” you state sternly, then inform him, “once i reach my door and wave my hand, you’re to run at your fastest speed.”

you question, making sure he’s understood every instruction that has been pushed his way, “clear?”

he nods, then raises his thumb at you, a cheeky smile painting his face. a confirmation that your instructions were clear enough, and he’s to make no mistakes until your mission is successful and done for.

you carefully tread, neck craning around to look for amane’s presence, as you actively trail in the direction of your bedroom. once you’re at your door, you’re quick to unlock, enter and wave to atsumu.

catching your gesture from where he is hiding, he rushes in your direction in response, and before amane makes it down the stairs to your floor, you quickly pull him inside your room, locking the door shut.

you breathe heavily, sighing in contentment that the two of you didn’t get caught pulling this off. you look up at atsumu who’s already looking your way, a hearty laugh ready to burst through. you both end up laughing in unison, taking in the moment, digesting whatever just happened.

then, you pause together. for no particular reason. there’s a few moments of unexplained silence. you aren’t sure what brought this on, but neither atsumu, nor you dare to speak a word. but you find him wavering his stare between your lips and your chest. that doesn’t make you uncomfortable per se, but your hand instinctively moves to cover your chest.

you’re pressed against the door, and atsumu moves a step closer to you, close enough that you can hear his heart beating faster than usual because of the short cardio session your little stunt put him through. but that’s all he does.

he doesn’t make any further efforts. you aren’t sure if you were expecting him to, and if you wanted him to. maybe it’s the way you shielded yourself that made him stop in his tracks. maybe if your hand wasn’t covering your chest, he’d have done what he intended to.

you place your hand on his chest, requesting, “please, move.”

“i need to go in.” you tell him, hinting, “the present won’t bring itself out.”

he doesn’t budge. you apply some force to move his body to the side, and enter your room. once you’re inside, you invite him in as well, “come on, take off your shoes and get inside.”

“you know, i have a gift for you.” you stretch your lips into a smile, highlighting your dimples. his eyes are instantly caught by the particular sight, prying him to stare in the direction of your lips.

“you’ve only mentioned it a few times now.” atsumu shakes his head as he sighs.

he gets rid of his footwear and walks into your dorm room, coming to stand right in front of you.

you walk up to him, stand on your tip toes to quickly peck his lips, and praise him, “good boy.”

you turn around and dally your way towards the mini refrigerator to acquire the cake you prepared for him last night. once you’ve taken it out, you turn around, holding it out to him.

“tada.” you make a sing song voice.

you approach him, while singing a birthday song, pushing the cake in his direction, hoping he’d accept your offering. you look at the blueberries and lemons decorating the cake, pointing, “it’s cute, isn’t it?” no response.

you pout, expressing disappointment, “why won’t you take my gift.”

“i spent so much time preparing it for you.” you whine, cheeks puffed out.

atsumu sighs, unsure of what he is thinking of. the more he looks at you, the more it seems he wants this night to lead the two of you to someplace he’s sure neither of you were expecting it to lead to. to think this way when he’s already made it so obvious to you is rather stupid.

he isn’t sure if he should be thinking these thoughts at all. they shouldn’t be whirring around his head to begin with. after all, this is only supposed to be a one time thing, and he was specifically warned by bokuto san not to lead you on.

he’s led you on enough as it is. he really shouldn’t take this any further. it’s bound to make things worse for you as well as for him. he knows this well, he can put two and two together to decipher the pros and cons of his unideal thoughts. his head and his heart cannot reach reach a comprise.

in the battle between the two, the head loses, and atsumu let’s go of the remains of his rationality. he takes the the cake out of your grasp and puts it on your desk, returning to stand face to face with you. you’re left swarmed by confusion.

but before you can interrogate him, he puts a lip to your finger, inching his body closer to you. once he’s close enough, he pulls you further in by the waist, until your chest is pressed firmly against his. you don’t retaliate. you just let him take control.

“the cake can wait.” he smirks, speaking in a breathy voice, wrapping an arm around your waist and resting the other against the nape of your neck.

he tells you, his lips only an inch apart from your own, “right now, this is what i want to do, cutie.”

your cheeks are burning, your body is trembling, your mind is fogged, and your palms are sweaty as they wrap around his shoulders for the balance. he can feel your body shaking against his. you’re nervous, he knows. he’s making you nervous, he knows. he’s at an advantage, and he likes it.

“you alright?” atsumu loosens his hold on you, asking out of concern when he notices the state of your body. you hum in response to him, granting him a green light to proceed.

just to make sure, he inquires yet again, “are you sure you’re okay with this?” you hum once again, confirming your agreement regarding the matter.

“great.” the corner of his lip raises as he voices, fain.

atsumu pulls you closer to him once again, clashing his lips against yours. his tongue entwines with your own, exploring around your mouth. you can taste the strawberry from his froyo swishing around your mouth as his tongue swarms around. you like whatever it is that you’re feeling. you grab his blonde hair and press his face against your own, urging him to continue further.

soon enough, breathless and quite uncomfortable, you’re quick to interfere, and you step back. he isn’t sure what warranted your reaction, but he’s willing to be patient.

he rubs your back, asking worrisomely, as he leaves a trail of kisses in the region of your neck, “did i do something wrong?”

“it’s me. i’ve never done this before.” you admit, moaning as you feel his hot breath condensing all over your neck, enticing a reaction from your end.

you mumble, embarrassingly, gripping his hair to move his face off your body, “sorry, i’m a spoilsport.”

“that’s all?” atsumu laughs, twirling his finger around a strand of your hair, playing with it.

he stoops lower and uses his teeth to pull your dress off your breast, placing a quick kiss on your cleavage through your brasier, reassuring, “don’t worry, cutie.”

“i got you, i’ll be gentle.” he looks up at you, winking, as he raises himself back up, proceeding to press his lips against your own once again.

atsumu’s frisky hands rummage around your back to discover the zip to your dress. he unzips your garment while his lips are still glued to yours. he pulls himself apart from you for a moment, swinging your body around as he presses you against a wall, the impact making your paints fall to the ground, painting the floor around you in a myriad of shades.

his hands mischievously, and quite easily undress you, completely revealing your brasier and underwear, two different colours. not a set. you really didn’t think it through before making your pick, and you really weren’t expecting to be fucked by atsumu miya on your first date.

your cheeks glow red in embarrassment, but frankly, atsumu doesn’t care if it’s a pair or not, he just wants to get those pieces of fabric off you and eat you out. he finds himself releasing his belt and loosening his pants while you stand there, hands covering your brasier and your underwear like it matters at this point.

he inches closer, finding himself pushing his lips against yours for the third time today, finding himself rock hard down there, ready to go. his arms envelope your body as he lifts you up. you cross your legs around his waist, putting your arms around his neck.

atsumu throws you onto the bed, hovering over you, with his large, throbbing cock erect underneath his loosened clothing. you’re desperate and you want him to put it inside of you this instant. he reaches out to get rid of your underwear. you can’t help it but let out a loud moan when you feel his hands prancing around your private parts in an attempt to rid you of your undergarment. you’re sure you were loud enough for your neighbours to hear, and they’ll know you’ve been a naughty girl tonight, but you don’t seem to care. you just want his cock inside of you, is all.

you’re hasty enough pull off his pants and his undergarment, revealing his large, veiny, aching cock ready to be inserted into your vagina. you throw the piece of cloth to the ground, spreading your legs wide apart for him, smirking.

“you really want me, don’t ya, cutie?” atsumu teases you, cupping your chin to catch a hold of your wavering gaze.

“too bad i don’t have protection on me.” he purses his lips, shrugging as he lays on top of you, pinning his chin against your cleavage.

his large hands cup your boobs, stimulating the nerve endings around your nipples, irking you to let out a vague cry.

your voice cracks, as you plead to him, “it’s okay, i need you inside of me.”

“atsumu.”

he commands, taking your chin into his hands, shooting a coy smile at you, “look at me, cutie.”

“hold my gaze.” he orders, assuring, “and you’ll get exactly what you want, cutie.” you nod, following his order, forcing yourself to look right into his eyes.

you’re already sweaty and he hasn’t even started yet. you don’t know what to expect from the process, but your instant reflex is the shut your eyes when you feel his cock sliding against your walls, inside of you. he’s too big for and it’s too painful. when he breaks through your hymen, you feel sharp, lancinating pain, warranting you to let out a loud moan as you bleed a little, “a-ah.”

“stop.” you speak up, huffing for air.

atsumu withdraws his cock from inside of you, caressing your cheek, inquiring, worried, “are you okay?”

“it hurts.” you cry, still in the midst of catching your breath.

you permit him, “try again.”

accepting your request, he inserts himself into your vagina once again. as you feel his large dick sliding against your walls, you scrunch your face in pain, whimpering, “o-ouch.”

“do you want me to stop?” he asks.

you refute, shaking your head, wanting him to continue pleasuring you. you scratch your nails against the bedding when you feel him thrust his cock inside you again, and again and again, making you groan and wail in pain because his size is just too big for you to take. as you feel his cock glide in and out of your pussy rhythmically, your moans get louder and louder, and the pleasure of having him inside of you intensifies tenfold. you find yourself gasping for air.

you feel yourself about to cum. atsumu drags his dick out of your vagina. his lips move away from your neck to your ear. he nibs your ear, while he inserts his fingers inside your pussy, letting your cum drips over his fingers, tainting them slimy white.

“you’re leaking, cutie.” atsumu states, chuckling, as he inserts his dick inside your cunt again, licking your ear, prying you to let out a scream when you feel the friction of his girth against you as he slides in and out.

smiling proud of himself, he kisses your neck, relieving you momentarily when he removes his cock out of your pussy, but only after he cums inside you. his fluid drips down your thighs, mixing with your own. he finds himself pressing his head between your thighs, tongue reaching to lick your walls to cleanse them of the filth of your act. as you feel his tongue brush around your lips, you can’t help but ask him for more.

“n-need more.” you stammer, breathless, overwhelmed with guilty pleasure as you grab his neck to make him face yourself, smiling tiredly at him, “tsumu, gimme more.”

atsumu lays right beside you, rubbing your cheeks as he teases you, sliding his hand down slowly and steadily, with fingers that tread over flesh, from your cheeks to your neck down to your stomach, leaving behind a ticklish sensation on your skin.

he places his hand over your mons, whispering as he bites the cartilage of your ear, “want more, cutie?”

you nod, signaling him to continue.

atsumu inserts his fingers into your vagina, curling them up and down, rubbing the area between your inner and outer labia, slowly stimulating your clitoris. you feel a pleasurable sensation wash all over your body. the motion of his fingers demands you to moan. he’s so good as he rubs your inside, you feel yourself cum all over his fingers.

satisfied with your response, and proud of himself, he inserts his fingers deeper, curling them in a come-hither motion, coercing you to whimper quite loudly. you’re sure were loud enough for your neighbours to hear you. once again. but you simply do not care. you’re too busy bathing his fingers with your cum.

tonight is going to be a long night, you think to yourself, closing your eyes shut, moaning over and over again as atsumu’s fingers twist and curl inside of you. he finds himself entertained, hearing you mewl and watching your squirm as he pleasures you. you cum over and over again, every time you’re stimulated, as his fingers move methodically within your walls, drenched in your fluid that you can’t seem to stop the flow of.

atsumu retrieves his fingers, holding onto your waist as he raises himself to hover over you. he brings his lips closer to you body, designing a trail of feathery kisses from your neck all the way down to your desperate pussy. he presses his face against your folds, inserting his tongue, licking you on the inside. when his tongue brushes past your clitoris, you whimper, cumming all over his face.

he laps it like a street dog, asking for more, “give me some more, cutie.”

you’re heaving for breath as atsumu explores your throbbing pussy with his tongue alone, hitting the spot every chance he gets, obligating you to wail over and over again. you’re profusely cumming, with his mouth covered in your fluids. he loves it, you love it. he’s too good.

“we’re about to have fun tonight.” he sneers, raising his head to look at the state of you.

atsumu shuts your legs close, giving you a break. he puts his body on to you, feeling your chest rise and fall evidently while you’re breathless. he snakes himself upwards. he kisses you on the lips, allowing you to get a quick taste of yourself.

“i- i think i want a r-round two.” you stutter, pushing him off you. your hand slides down to grab a hold of his penis. you start to fondle with his tip, doe eyed as you look at him with pursed lips and an expecting expression, “you’ll be gentle, just like the last time, won’t you?”

his eyes widen when he feels your soft hands playing around with his cock, moving upwards and downwards, stroking it. he likes the feeling of your soft skin feeling his penis, your fingers prancing around like you own his cock, and what was drooping becomes rock hard once again, aching to be slid inside of your pussy that’s clearly asking for more.

atsumu climbs on top of you, lacing his sticky fingers with your own, pinning your hand against the bed, his other hand rubbing the skin of your cheek as he prepares to enter your cunt. you grab the nape of his neck, dragging his face closer to yours.

he feels your heavy, needy breath dissipate against his cheeks as he bites your nose. with his lips brushing against yours, as he presses his dick into your cunt, he mutters, “want this, don’t you?”

you feel him cum inside of you, filling you up. as a stream of his semen trickles down your inner thigh, you shoot him a wide grin, huffing, “yes, w-want this.”

“s-so good, tsumu.” you groan, feeling his cock rub against your lips, inciting you to squirt all over his cock.

atsumu is so proud of himself for pleasuring you so good on your first time. he presses his dick deeper inside of you. you’re a wailing, crying mess as his large dick inserts itself further inside you, making you ache. but the feeling of his cock being thrust inside of you is too good to make him stop.

he chuckles at your sweaty face painted crimson, with a weary but satisfactory smile lining your pink lips, smirking at you as he kisses your lips, then your neck, “alright, cutie, it’s time we have more fun throughout the night.”

౨ৎ yn and atsumu got along too well for his own liking, and he actually ended up having a great time with yn.

౨ৎ yn lost her v card to atsumu, meaning this is the first time she even hooked up with someone.

౨ৎ the security guards saw yn sneaking atsumu into the dormitory, but they just assumed it’s tobio.

౨ৎ tobio definitely cried on his way to practice.

౨ৎ you’re going to hate me for the next few chapters.

previous : d day

masterlist | next : rebound sex

🐰 i want you to be real scared for the upcoming chapters, that’s all.

taglist— @wolffmaiden @kafkassexchoe @luna-mothii @bomjug @le000xxgrd @dazqa @ineednanami @iluvaquaphor @debussy42 @choizzn @bunninio @empress-pug-pug @karasunoya @sereniteav @yuminako @reooreo @loveelylacey @nbcvs

[alex31624]

Duck Comic Reading Club Week 8: Dangerous Disguise

Ok, I'm finally finishing up the week 8 reviews. Let's go right away into Dangerous Disguise, is my first Carl Barks reading and I sure that is going to be greaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!!!!!

WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?

Humans? Regular, everyday, no question about it, humans? What the hell man? This is not right, no, no, no. Also...

Where in Dismal Downs are they? Crime Villa? Is this place safe for the babies?

Gosh… everything here seriously creep me out… anyway…

Imagine how mad Scrooge was at Donald and the babies that he actually sent them to another country. That crazy old bird is a pro hater.

After Donald mentioned the spies, HDL went crazy about it. They started seen spies in every corner, and drove Donald insane. In this situation, I have to be on Donald side, kids can be annoying.

I'm a grown man, and if that guy starts talking to me, I'd run to another city, but Donald thinks it's a good idea to help this stranger hiding under a pier.

Turns out that Donald passed a secret message to Madame Triple-X, professional spy. Spy that buries the message in front of witnesses that later recover that said message.

The kids show the message to Donald that takes the obvious choice, confront the spy.

Don, buddy, you're not PK here. Call the police.

Donald and the kids took the train directly to Chiliburgueria, just to realize that Madame Triple-X is in a plane to the same destination. Bad luck.

But the surprises are far from over.

Another spy is ready to take down the Ducks. But, do not worry, Huey has a plan…

He killed him.

Huey killed him.

Look at this. Look at it. That guy is dead, is deader than my dreams of Ducktales season 4.

Well, for reasons, Madame Triple-X is now in the Ducks' wagon. Donald tries to steal her purse, only to be discovered, and he and the boys are thrown out of the train. Luckily, they fell on a pond.

The kids complain, but Donald was one step ahead, because he now has Madame Triple-X's purse.

They now can make some lunch.

Madame Triple-X is also thrown out of the train, and is once again, face to face with our heroes.

And she proceeds to...

Oh, for duck sake!

Guys, the lunch thing was a joke! Don't eat the salami sandwich the evil spy offers to you!

And of course the sandwich put the Ducks to sleep. And of course Donald's neck fell directly on the tracks.

Thank God, the trainmen strike saves Donald.

Lucky.

The Ducks steal the train and arrive to Chiliburgueria where they find Donaldo.

So, Donaldo is a bullfighter, therefore, I hate him. I'm against that barbarism wrongly named culture.

But, the guy was taken down by his doppelganger, and treated by evil ten-years-old triplets. What a day.

Donald took Donaldo's place in order to capture Madame Triple-X, and I wonder…

Donaldo has the same voice impediment that Donald has? They look identical but, the voice… Donald voice is the most recognizable voice ever.

And back to the looks one second, how is that Donaldo looks exactly like Donald? I think Quackmore has a lot to explain.

After a bullfight where, thankfully, no bull was harm, Donald finally convinces Madame Triple-X that he's the spy. Only for Donaldo to break free and end the charade.

But then…

Madame Triple-X was a secret secret service member all along! And she almost fail her mission, because those damn Ducks.

Donaldo then, jump through the window. No second thought about it.

The Ducks then came back to Crime Villa to enjoy their vacation.

What can I said about this one? It was weird, and fun, and crazy, and stupid, and I loved it.

More of this, please.

[silvantransthranduiltrash]

I know some people like to think of feanor as a difficult elf from birth to death, but I personally thinks it’s much more tragic (and much more juicy) if feanor was a (reluctant) good brother. (You can pry good husband and dad feanor from my cold decaying dead hands thx).

Like, feanor wasn’t a “nice” elf, especially to his siblings, but he was there when it counted. Sort of a “only I can bully my little siblings” kind of deal where, while he can tug at their hair (not too hard, don’t want to get in trouble with atya (or so he tells himself)) and call them idiots, the moment someone else so much as looks at his baby sibs wrong he already has a 25 step plan to ruin that elf so badly they’ll never show their face in tirion again.

Bby arafinwe will aproach him holding an injured bird, crying his heart out begging him to help and feanor would simultaneously scold him for holding it to tightly and gently take hold of the bird in order to bring it to a healer while arafinwe trails behind him.

Bby Nolofinwe asked him to help with his school work bc feanor, for all that he’s a grumpy little shit, knows what he’s talking about and “like hell he’s going to let any elf in the house of finwe be anything less than perfect”. Nolofinwe just looks excited: “ok, big brother! 😁” absolutely used to his tsundere attitude.

The first time another elf acted untoward to findis despite her being a princess, feanor comes flying out of the left field and decking em. Then proceeds to give findis an impromptu lesson on throwing a punch.

And of course as time went on and things got more complicated, the pressure of tirion + the depression bc of miriel + morgoth + everything caused him to eventually cave. It got worse bc he refused to come to the gardens of lorien for healing because he was afraid he’d end up like his mother and abandon his family.

I personally really do view his actions post morgoth being released (mainly the flight of the noldor/kinslaying) as a mental break.

[gotstabbedbyapen]

Do you have any HCs on how Tantalus’ dinner with the Olympians went down?? cause I feel like that could either be a horror movie or a comedy sketch

We shall have both :))))) This is only my imagination of Tantalus' myth so don't take it too seriously!

Warning: The following post mentions murdering and cooking humans. Please proceed with caution!

There are two versions of how Tantalus was punished: he cooked and served the gods his son or he stole ambrosia from the gods. I like to think these two events happened in linear, so you will have my HCs about both events :))))))

One time, Tantalus was invited to an Olympian banquet as Zeus' honorable bastard son. And he got cocky because what are the chances someone get to feast with the gods?

Tantalus was served the best of food and drink at the party, but he then noticed all the gods were dining on ambrosia and nectar. That means his meal was an anomaly.

At first Tantalus was curious of the difference, then he got annoyed that he was invited to the god's home but didn't get to taste the god's food - so what's even the point of coming to Olympus? (hubris alert!!!)

With the "I'm in Olympus so might as well make the most of it" logic in mind, Tantalus went to the kitchen and helped himself some ambrosia from Hebe's serving jug.

When he tip-toed out of the kitchen, he was met with Hebe and Ganymede at the door. There was a moment of silence with the cartoon bird flying by...

Tantalus: What the f-

Hebe: THIEF!!!

Ganymede: *hits Tantalus with his jug*

When the Olympians gathered at the kitchen, they saw two very pissed off cupbearers and one Tantalus laying on the floor Peter Griffin style.

After Hebe and Ganymede told everyone what happened, Zeus kicked Tantalus out of Olympus. No harsh punishment to him yet because Zeus deemed Tantalus is acting out of character because of temporary greed.

About that...

Tantalus was livid from getting kicked out of Olympus with a restraining order. He was only enjoying his "right as guest"!!!!!!

He grumbled that he would have gotten away if it wasn't for two pesky cupbearers, and that the gods weren't all-seeing as they claimed to be.

At first it was only a cursing thought to tend the his pride wound, but then the desire for revenge took over Tantalus and led him actually try to outsmart the gods.

Tantalus then invited the Olympian gods to a feast in his palace as repentance for his past act of thievery, but in actuality, he would trick the god into eating his son to disprove their omniscient.

Now here's the part where it gets disturbing.

To make sure the gods have no way of knowing his son is part of the feast, Tantalus butchered Pelops until his pieces look no different from the typical pork or chicken and cooked each part in a different dish (some in the stew, some in the roast, etc.)

To further sell the act, Tantalus deliberately offered Demeter a piece of Pelops as "comfort" after her separation with Persephone. Still depressed about her daughter's absent, Demeter unknowingly ate it.

The rest of the Olympians immediately dropped their forks out of horror when they found out it was human meat they were served.

It's even worse when Tantalus had triggered the elder Olympians' trauma (except Zeus) because it reminded them of when they were eaten by their father.

Yeah, it wasn't a pretty picture.

Zeus plunged Tantalus into the Underworld with a lightning. When his crimes were presented to the King and Queen, Persephone decided no further judgement is needed, this guy is going straight to Tartarus for taking advantage of her mother's grief.

And so old Tantalus was punished by getting trapped in a lake with branches hanging above him, never to be allowed to drink the water or eat the fruits.

As for Pelops, things are pretty much the same as in the myth for him.

The Olympians pitied Pelops and bargained with Clotho (youngest of the Fates, who spins the thread of human life) to help him. Under Clotho's instruction, Hermes collected Pelops' pieces - painstakingly because Tantalus chopped him so finely - and boiled him in a cauldron.

Pelops was brought back to life after the ritual, Hephaestus made him an ivory shoulder in place of the flesh one that Demeter ate, and Poseidon whisked him away ;)

[fanfoolishness]

a rain that sounds like home (5/8)

After the destruction of Tantiss, the Bad Batch is safe at last. As Crosshair begins to recover from his injuries, it becomes apparent that not all of his scars are physical, and that guilt and grief are wounds that cut deeper than any blade. His family is determined to be there for him -- if only he can let them in.

Canon-compliant, focusing on PTSD, amputation recovery, and sibling grief, with plenty of whump, hurt/comfort, and emotional catharsis. Set shortly after the return from Tantiss and my fic Breaching the Wall. 43,000 words total.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

Chapter 5: Mistaken.

Crosshair searches for a place in the community, while Omega struggles with memories of Tantiss. Wrecker does his best to help them both. 5900 words, Crosshair and Omega POV.

---

“So what are you working on today?” Crosshair asked, taking a seat on the pier beside Wrecker.  He swung his legs over the side of the dock, letting them dangle in the warm water.  Sunlight sparkled on the surface.  Around them, villagers worked on their boats or prepared their catches for the market.  Wrecker had picked a dock slightly out of the way of the main hustle and bustle, and now he bent over the ropes in his lap, focusing hard with his tongue sticking slightly out of the corner of his mouth.

“I’m getting better at nets,” said Wrecker.  “It’s fun.  Kinda reminds me of timer munitions.  Wires and ropes, same thing, right?  It’s all about the pattern.”  His strong fingers gripped a complicated-looking needle, using it to twist patterns in the thin twine-like rope, strands hanging off a hoop.  Crosshair watched him for a few minutes, and even though he could easily see the steps, they didn’t make any sense.  The twine had no shape, but then suddenly, there was half a meter of net in Wrecker’s hands.

“You and your wires,” Crosshair said.  “They never made sense to me.  I’d rather take a good clean shot.”  

“Yeah, I know,” Wrecker said.  He kicked his feet, making splashes in the water below as he made another three loops in his net.  “I like this, though.  They don’t really need a lot of bombs here, so it’s nice to have somethin’ else to do.”  His face fell a little in disappointment, and Crosshair smiled faintly, thinking of Wrecker’s massive grins when an explosion went just right.

“I thought you could just wrestle the fish into submission,” Crosshair cracked.  “Do you really need a net?”

Wrecker laughed.  “Nah, not really.  But they do.”  He jerked a thumb behind him at some of the villagers, a couple working on repairing their small fishing boat.  “Empire did a lot of damage that night.  People are still working on fixing things.  Hell, there’s still some damage from the sea surge that needs fixing, and that was almost a year ago.  I might get to throw out a few booms for that if I’m lucky, but people need to eat more than they need stuff blasted out.”

Crosshair leaned back, gazing up at the sky.  Birds with long, spear-like bills and wide wingspans flew by in a slow stately line, and he watched them proceed, wondering what they were.  He could see startling details on them, even at this distance; a patch of skin on their throats flushing blue and violet, red-rimmed azure eyes, a sandy blonde ruff of feathers at the base of their necks.  

He thought back to what Wrecker had said.  “You and Hunter fit here.  It’s good for you.”

Wrecker gave him a curious look.  “You fit too, Cross.”  

Crosshair remembered the moving day party two weeks ago, Wrecker and Hunter easily mingling with the villagers while he skulked out on the patio.  “Not like you do.”

“You could.  All it is is talkin’ to people,” Wrecker said.  “Sometimes I can’t remember everyone’s names, but I’m good at faces!  And you could always ask Omega if you need to cheat.  She’s got everyone down.”  He held up his half-finished net, watching as the loose weave fluttered in the breeze, nodding in satisfaction.  “Looking for something to do?”

“Yes,” said Crosshair.  “We haven’t exactly ever had extra time.  I don’t know what to do with it.”  He scowled.   At first he’d spent his time cleaning up their small house or going on long walks, but it never took long to get the place tidy, and the walks were less appealing as he found himself trodding the same trails.  He was glad to spend time with his family when they were free, but Omega was now taking classes with the other children on the island, Hunter was deciding they should have a garden and was constantly working on that when he wasn’t picking up odd jobs, and Wrecker spent most of his time here down at the docks.

Everyone had found somewhere to be, besides him.

“Well, this is a good place to spend it,” said Wrecker.  “Another reason I like making nets?  It’s peaceful.  Kinda like Omega’s meditation, but not boring.”  He laughed.  “I tried with her once or twice, it just makes me fall asleep.”  He paused, giving Crosshair a knowing look.  “You still doing that?”

Crosshair looked away.  What would be the point now?  No hand, no tremor, no need.  Even though part of him missed those times he’d meditated with Omega, her calm breath mixing in his ears with the ocean waves, her encouragement meaning the world.  She’d asked him a few times since they came back, and he always turned her down, the question making him uneasy.  

He’d lost the battle he was trying to fight there.  No sense returning to the battlefield now.  He shook his head.

“Huh,” Wrecker said, almost looking disappointed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Wrecker shrugged.  “I dunno.  Just -- seemed like it helped you, before.”

“And you’re saying I need help now?” Crosshair asked icily.

“Don’t get bent out of shape,” Wrecker said, resting his net in his lap.  “But….  Maybe.  You sleep like crap.  I know, because your bunk’s across from me.  And I know you like being on your own, but it kinda seems like you’re on your own the wrong way.  Not because you like it, but ‘cause it’s easier than being around other people.”  He shrugged again.  

“How very astute of you,” Crosshair said, anger shivering just beneath his words.  His eyes narrowed.  He knew Wrecker was trying to be helpful.  Maybe that was part of what made it so enraging.  I don’t need help!  And somewhere deep, deep inside, a faint thought: I don’t deserve help.  He slammed his fist down on the wooden dock, letting out a sharp huff of breath.

Wrecker held up his vast hands in supplication.  “Hey, told you not to get bent out of shape.”

“Just leave it alone, Wrecker.”

“All right, all right.”  Wrecker gave him a sly look, then suddenly swung his leg sharply through the water, creating a massive wave.  It splashed Crosshair up to his waist.  

“Wrecker!” he snarled, scrambling to his feet, water pouring off of his linen pants.  His toes squelched on the wet dock.  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“What?” Wrecker asked innocently.  He burst out laughing, shaking his head.  “Ahhh Crosshair, you shoulda seen your face.”

“If you keep this up it’ll be the last face you ever see,” Crosshair spat.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”  He got to his feet, setting down his half-finished net.  “C’mon.  If you want something to do, lemme introduce you to Beryx.  She’s always got stuff she could use a hand with.”

“She had better only need one,” said Crosshair, raising his eyebrow.

Wrecker snorted out a laugh, then stopped himself, looking guilty.

“No, no, I was being funny,” Crosshair admitted.  “Go on and laugh.”

“Oh, okay!” Wrecker said, relieved.  “But uh… I don’t know when it’s okay to laugh about it, and when it isn’t.”

“Neither do I.  I’m making it up as I go,” Crosshair said honestly.  “Come on.  Let’s see this Beryx.  It’s better than standing around here waiting for my pants to dry.”  He briefly considered trying to shove Wrecker into the sea while he was thinking about whether or not it was okay to laugh at hand jokes yet, but decided against it.  This time.

Beryx was a stern, no-nonsense Kiffar woman in her senior years, with a striking purple facial tattoo and long white hair.  “Wrecker!  This your brother Crosshair?” she said in a voice that was clearly used to giving orders.

“Ha, what gave it away, Beryx?” Wrecker said.

“Between the clone resemblance and the crosshair tattoo, it was an easy guess,” she said drily.  “Good to meet you.  Now, you lookin’ for some work?”

Crosshair shrugged.  “Sure, if you’ve got something I can do.”  He held up his stump.

Beryx wasn’t phased.  “You look strong enough.  I mean, not like Wrecker here --”  She reached far up overhead, stretching to her tiptoes to cuff Wrecker on the shoulder.  He blushed.  “But I got a pile of fish for deliveries for the older folk, and those long legs look like they’d do just fine with the stairs.”

“They don’t get their fish at the market?” Crosshair asked, slightly relieved she hadn’t been thrown by his missing hand.  Deliveries should be easy enough.

“Ain’t always easy for them to leave the house, so we send the food to them.  Plus, they get a chance to visit with the delivery crew.  So I expect you to make a little chitchat with ‘em when you drop their orders off,” she said, lifting several cooling bags on straps.  “C’mere, bend down.”

He leaned down before he’d fully processed the rest of what she said.  “Chitchat?  That’s not --”

“He’ll be great!” Wrecker said cheerfully as Beryx slung several bags over his neck and shoulders.  He grunted slightly.  The old woman was much stronger than she looked, and the bags weren’t light.  He glanced down at them, spotting small readers on each one that said names and addresses.  

Crosshair sighed.  Well, he was the one who had come down here.  “I guess I’ll be back to drop these containers off after the delivery.”

“Just bring ‘em by before I head out for the day,” Beryx said.  “Much appreciate it.”

“Meet you up at the market for lunch after?” Wrecker said.  “Omega’ll be done with school by 1400.”  

“Sure,” Crosshair said, and much to his surprise, he found himself looking forward to it.  He straightened up, the bags rustling at his sides, and headed up to town.

---

“Chitchatting” with the elderly hadn’t been the way he’d planned to spend his day, but it was going much better than he had expected.

This time of day the sun was still pleasant instead of punishingly hot.  It was early enough in the morning that the wildlife of the island scampered around freely.  With Batcher hanging out with Hunter today, Crosshair’s keen eyes picked up small jeweled birds hovering in the glossy green shrubs, small rabbits ducking in and out of the shadows, a fish-hawk wheeling high overhead.  The fish-hawk was white and black with striking markings and a piercing golden eye, and he watched it for a moment at a rise on the stairs before remembering where he was heading next.

His first stop was to a tiny Twi’lek woman bent with age, her soft accented speech difficult to understand.  Marhee Narjin took her delivery with a wide smile, asking him inside to help her put away the food.  Her little home, which seemed to be the same general structure as their own, was full of art on every surface, paintings, decorations on the walls, small canvases stacked in every corner, art supplies overflowing.  A curious painted wooden sculpture of many small pieces, shaped somewhat like an upside down trill in Aurebesh, stood in pride of place in the alcove in her wall.  The same place Omega had laid down Tech’s goggles.  He wondered what it was, why it was important, but did not ask.

She chattered brightly to him as he helped her put away the fish.  Asked his name.  Asked his age, then looked astounded when he gave it to her.  Asked if he had fought in the war, seeing his wrist.  When he told her haltingly that he had, she shook her head, sighing.  “Ah, Ryloth, how I miss it!  It was a beautiful world before the war.”

Crosshair frowned, ashamed.  He’d been to Ryloth twice… once on the right side, once with the Empire.  He gritted his teeth, tried to say something reassuring.  “It’s still a beautiful world.  I… I saw an eclipse there, once.”  He and Tech had been the only ones to see it, and it still gave him goosebumps to remember the shadowed sun, Tech’s look of awe.  “It was incredible.”

She gave him a sweet, tremulous grin.  “The last eclipse on Ryloth I saw was well before you were born.  It was a holy thing.  I am glad you were able to see it, Crosshair.”  She sighed happily.  “Thank you for helping me.”

“Can I ask you something?” Crosshair asked suddenly.

“Of course.”

“Why do you paint?”  He tried to find the right words for the question.  “What is it for?”

Marhee looked at him, thunderstruck.  “Why, I paint because I must.  It is who I am.”  She gestured to the colorful paintings in the kitchen of flowers around the island, seascapes, a silver fish with sparkling scales.  “It is how I see the world.”  She looked at him curiously.  “Sometime, when you do not have many bags of fish to deliver, come by.  I would like to paint you.  You might understand then.”  

“Paint… me?  Why?” he asked, taken aback.

“Because you are a clone, one of many, and yet different, one and alone.  A curious dichotomy for an artist to explore!” she said in delight.  “But I mustn’t keep you.  Go on, until we meet again.”

“I -- all right --” he sputtered.  She ushered him back out and he shook his head, trying to understand what that had been about.  

But she’d been kind and her paintings had been beautiful.  He’d been able to see every brushstroke in the paintings, every varied hue, the way the layered paint formed a luminous shimmer on some pieces.  He thought Wrecker would have particularly liked the fish.  

He remembered Hunter’s gardening attempts.  He’d never tried drawing -- Hunter had done all the motifs on their armor, aside from Wrecker’s helmet -- but they did have time to try new things now.  Huh.  

His other deliveries went smoothly.  An elderly pair of humans invited him in for a cup of caf and to meet their lothcat, Mr. Tibbins, a creature they proudly told him only went out on a leash so as to not harass the local wildlife.  Mr. Tibbins looked as if he might have other ideas, but he tolerated the elderly couple pinning his leash on him for a stroll after they’d put away the fish.  Crosshair ignored the creature, but the lothcat promptly waltzed over to him and clambered into his lap, purring furiously and shedding all over him.

An old Abednego gave him a pair of cookies for his trouble and mused at him about the latest jizz album.  He played a few songs for Crosshair, and he had to admit they were pretty catchy, though he wasn’t exactly going to go as far as the Abednego, who listened for half a song and then got up and started dancing with the aid of his cane.

Two human sisters insisted he join them for a morning pick-me-up, which turned out to be a fiery amber liqueur.  He took one sip and nearly spat it out, his head swimming almost instantly.  What the hell they were drinking, he had no idea, and wanted no part of it.  He hid his tiny glass behind their seasoning shaker and made an excuse to go to the next delivery, managing to evade detection until he got outside.  His head felt floaty for a good half an hour after that stop.

His last stop was coming up, and the midday sun was beginning to swing high.  After climbing up and down the stairs -- probably making a few wrong turns, as he was still getting the hang out of how the island was organized into neighborhoods -- his stomach was growling.  The two cookies and the caf had long since burned off.  It’d be good to meet Wrecker and Omega for lunch and tell them of the morning. 

Maybe they already knew the artist and her work.  He kept thinking of the vivid colors in her home, lush fuschias, greens in a dozen shades, phantasmagoric midnight blues.  

Maybe there was a market stall with some beginner art supplies he could investigate.

He climbed up to the last corner home on this stretch of lower Pabu, stretching his neck as he went.  He glanced at the order, an assortment of fish for Eenta Bogin.  The old man was sitting on his patio, looking half-asleep.  Crosshair approached cautiously with a clearing of his throat, and the old man sat up straight and looked around, squinting through clouded eyes.

“Oh!  Oh, are you bringing the fish?” he asked, shading his eyes with one hand.  “Why, that’s mighty kind of you.”  He got to his feet, shuffling slowly from the patio to the front door.  Crosshair reached out instinctively, offering his left arm, and the old man held onto it with surprising strength.  

“Thank you, young man.”  Eenta glanced up at him as they entered his home, looking puzzled, then shook his head.  “The kitchen is this way.  What did Beryx send?”

“Looks like… a few bar jack, a pair of reefcrawlers and a mora,” Crosshair said, riffling through the last of the fish.  “Good variety.”

“What’s your favorite?  I’m partial to mora, myself.”

“Same here.  It’s got the best flavor.”  He pulled out the packages of cold fish, helping the old man get them into his conservator, rearranging some of the other food until they found the right order.

“Well!  Very good,” Eenta said, smiling.  “You know, it took me a moment to remember you, young man.”  He narrowed his hazy eyes at Crosshair, focusing.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” said Crosshair uncertainly.  Maybe he had come to the moving day party?  Many villagers had stopped through during the day.  Though he suspected Eenta didn’t exactly have the mobility to stop by for a quick visit to a party.

“No, no, I remember now,” said Eenta in a warm voice.  “The sea surge!  Your big brother Wrecker scooped me up like a sack of tubers and hauled me on out of here.  Good thing he did, too!  And you and Miss Phee were so handy with those ladders.”

“I don’t --”

“But you look a little different than I remember.  Changed your hair, I think.”  He frowned, kind concern in every line of his aged face, his rheumy eyes squinted in concentration.  “Are you getting enough to eat, Tech?”

Crosshair froze.

His heart felt like it stuttered, then stopped.

“Tech?” the old man asked, his voice faltering.

“That’s -- I’m not --”  He struggled to get the words out.  “Enjoy the fish,” he choked out, and he fled through the front door.

There was a buzzing in his ears, a roaring, prickling thing that he faintly realized was his own pulse.  It thrummed.  It thrummed.  He stood there blinking slowly in the blinding sun, trying to remember how to breathe.

---

Omega waited near the weeping maya, looking around for Wrecker.  She’d had a busy day at the island school, her mind spinning with galactic history today.  Her brothers had taught her so much since she’d left Kamino, but it was almost always practical, survival-based.  She’d needed every scrap of what they’d given her, but now she was hearing about other things, too; old stories, historic events, learning about different peoples and languages.  She let out a long breath.  Tech would have liked these lessons, she knew; maybe he would have compared them to what they had learned on Serenno.

But Hunter and Wrecker and Crosshair made surprisingly good listeners.  She’d talked their ears off every day for the past week with the stories she’d heard about Jedi in the High Republic and the great hyperspace disaster.  She and Lyana made up their own stories, wondering what it would have been like to use the Force, Omega picturing Asajj’s powers mixed with heroic adventures around the galaxy.  The disappointment she’d felt after Asajj had left had long since faded, but she still liked to imagine if things had been different.

She missed the Tantiss children a lot on days like this.  Senator Chuchi, Echo, and Emerie had been hard at work, and Sami, Jax and Eva had all been reunited with their families and relocated.  Only giggly Bayrn remained with his foster family, still working on trying to learn his first word.  Omega wondered what they would have thought of the stories.  Between what Omega knew of Tantiss and Emerie’s information, she had a pretty good idea of why the children had been held there, and it made her gut twist to think of how long they’d stayed there before she came to them.

She took a deep breath.  

It was a good day.  She didn’t want to think about Tantiss right now.  Didn’t want to think about it ever again.

She sat down on one of the weeping maya’s roots, picking at the bark with her fingernails.  

Crosshair and Hunter limping beside her, both of them panting, injured, exhausted -- the shuttle waiting, all of them making one final run for it -- Hunter and Crosshair collapsing into the seats beside Wrecker, their faces pale and grimacing -- Crosshair’s bandage soaked with blood --

She shuddered, trying not to think about that moment -- or the moment she first realized Crosshair had lost his hand -- or the moment she saw the wound on Wrecker’s chest -- or how Hunter’s hand in hers had shook with pain, all the way to the shuttle --

Omega took a deep breath.  Tried to focus on the fact that they were all home and safe again.  

Her eyes welled with unexpected tears.  Not all of them.  Echo had barely stopped to rest before leaving them again… and Tech would never come home.

Her previous good mood suddenly sank like a stone.

This kept happening, since they’d come back.  She didn’t know why.  Everything should be better now!  She balled up her fist in frustration and took another deep breath.  

In, and out.

In, and out.

She crossed her arms over her chest as Wrecker spotted her from across the way, waving with one hand.  He closed the distance to meet her, bringing with him a large tray of fish and rice.  

“Hey, kid.  Ready for lunch?”  He glanced around.  “No Crosshair yet?”

“No.  Crosshair’s coming?”  She smiled a little, her mood lifting slightly.  He’d been eating on his own a lot lately, skipping dinner or breakfast.  It’d be good to see him, especially up here out and about.  

“I told him to meet us here,” said Wrecker uncertainly.  “Since when am I on time?”

“Hey, anyone can change, right?” Omega asked with a grin.

He chuckled.  “Good point, kid.  Well, I vote we dig in.  We can always get more when he shows up.”

They ate together beneath the soft green foliage of the tree above, the sweet scent of its flowers a gentle perfume carried on the breeze.  Omega told Wrecker some more of her Jedi stories, and he shared a few of his own -- a general called Skywalker, one named Kenobi.  They talked for a good while, and Omega wondered how Gungi was doing, if he was able to keep up with his training on Kashyyyk.

She must have been hungrier than she’d thought, or Wrecker had snuck extra portions when she wasn’t looking, but when she reached down for another scoop of rice and fish she realized they’d nearly eaten through the whole tray.

“Wrecker?  I thought you said Crosshair was coming?” she asked.

He frowned, glancing up toward the sun, judging the time.  “He shoulda been here by now.  He’s never this late.”

“When did you see him?”

“Down by the docks.  He was taking up a load of deliveries for Beryx.  He shoulda been done… shoot, at least an hour ago,” Wrecker guessed.  He sighed.  “Must’ve changed his mind again.”

“He keeps doing that,” said Omega sadly.  “I asked him to meditate again with me yesterday, but he turned me down.”  She rested her chin in her hands, thinking hard.  She remembered how it felt on the bridge, Crosshair’s wounded arm resting on her shoulders.  “Is he going to be okay, Wrecker?  With his hand?”

Wrecker opened his mouth.  “‘Course he is.  At least… that’s what I wanna think.”  He looked down at his hands.  “But I don’t know, Omega.  Guess none of us do.”  

“I hate not knowing,” she admitted. 

Wrecker looked like he was deep in thought, trying to figure out what to say to her.  At last he said,  “He’s tough, our Crosshair.  But -- don’t tell him I said this, got it?  He’s, uh, he’s tender, too.  You know?”

“Secret’s safe with me,” she said, smiling.  “I think I know what you mean.”  That sounded right -- like the brother she knew from Tantiss, coldly trying to convince her to leave without him; and the brother she knew from Pabu, desperately trying to keep her safe.  She swallowed her bite, then halfheartedly put together another one.  It seemed to take forever to chew.  

“I think more ‘n anything, he just needs some time, I guess,” said Wrecker.  “AZI keeps trying to give him options.  Prosthetics and stuff.  Maybe it would help?  I don’t know.  Echo always seemed okay with just his scomp, though…”

“I was talking with Mrs. Mikkels yesterday,” Omega mused.  “You know, the tailor?  She lost her hand a long time ago.  She said she likes using her mechanical hand for work, but at home when she wants to relax, she takes it off, because it never quite felt like her real one.  I never thought about it like that.  I guess there’s lots of options.  I hope Crosshair can find something that works for him.  Or maybe he won’t want one, and that’s okay too.”  

She fell silent, and they held the quiet for a beat until the words snuck out of her.  “I’m worried about him.”  She knew what Crosshair would say if she told him so.  I’m fine, maybe with a toothpick flicked her way for good measure.  But he’d always been a bad liar.

“Yeaaaah, me too.”

“He seems like he’s closing up again somehow,” said Omega.  “It’s not just his hand, is it?”

Wrecker put his arm around her.  “No,” he admitted.  “Seeing Tantiss again… he was in a bad way, even before he got hurt.”  He shook his head, swallowing.  “Never seen him like that.  Maybe he’s still carryin’ that around.”

Like what? she almost asked, but decided she didn’t need to know.  Didn’t want to know, unless Crosshair wanted to tell her.  Omega wiped at her eyes.  “He went back there for me.  It must have been so hard for him.  You don’t know what it was like there.  He was so… empty.  He thought he deserved to be there.”

“But he came back and he faced it.  Like I said -- tough,” Wrecker said, his voice tinged with pride.  He smiled down at her.  “Like his sister.”

Omega laughed, even though things felt so heavy.  “That’s true.  All of us are.”  She leaned against her brother, grateful beyond words to rest against his broad, safe shoulder.  “I’m so glad we won, Wrecker.  That we got the clones and the kids out.  That we really, really hurt the Empire, and they won’t be able to find me, ever again.  But -- but I feel so sad, too.  I don’t understand.”

“What kind of sad, kid?” Wrecker asked gently.

“I dunno.  Lots of kinds.”  She stared down at her lap.  A cool afternoon breeze fluttered by, carrying with it the sweet smell of flowers.  “I knew you’d all come for me, I wasn’t scared about that.  Crosshair and I had a plan, and it worked, right?  But -- being back there again --”  She shivered, trying to forget the empty walls of her little cell in the Vault, Hemlock’s cold soft voice, the feel of the cuff on her wrist.  The bruises had faded weeks ago, but she rubbed her wrist, feeling their echo.

Wrecker was giving her a sad, almost guilty look.  She scrunched up her face in confusion.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said hastily.  He patted her on the shoulder.  “I’m just sorry you had to go back there.  I know we were out of options.”  He let out a long breath.  

“Yes,” she said, though she wondered why he’d gotten that guilty look.  She sighed.  “I just feel some days like it’s still there.  Tantiss.  Even when we’re here, and everything’s so much better…”  She closed her eyes, snuggling against his side, and he rested his large strong arm around her, protective and gentle both.  She breathed in; breathed out.  Tried not to think about looking out at the jungle, night after night, wondering if she would ever see her brothers again.  It didn’t seem fair that she still had to think about it when they’d won, when they’d torn it stone from stone.

She tried to remind herself that everything was different now.  Not just different from how it had been on Tantiss, but before, too, when she had been alone on Kamino.  

Once, she’d been lonely every day, Nala Se mostly consumed in her work, no one else around for company except, briefly, her baby brothers.  For a little while they’d been scarcely smaller than her. Yet before they were old enough to remember her they were gone, whisked off with the other cadets; and she was alone again, a freak, an oddity, a bad batch of one.  

But here, now, she had brothers.  Brothers who hugged her and made her dinner and stayed up late with her if she had trouble sleeping; brothers who’d risked their lives for her, Tech who’d given his life for all of them, brothers she was so lucky to have.  She had the cadets Wrecker and Hunter had found, the other clones she’d met through Rex and Echo and in Tantiss, brothers and friends in a different way; she had Lyana, Shep, Phee.  And when she didn’t want to talk to anyone else, when she needed to be alone but not alone, there were Batcher and Gonky.  They had so much here.  She had so much.

She blinked back tears again, looking up at her brother, annoyed at her watery eyes.  “Sorry,” she said.  “It’s just -- everything.”

“I hear ya, kid.”  He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and she giggled.  

“Want to go back home?  Maybe Crosshair’s already there.”

“Sure.”

---

Batcher found him as the sun was setting.  Crosshair slid off his perch on a large rock near the water’s edge, feet landing in the sand.  “If you’re looking for dinner, you won’t find it here,” he told her.  She just panted, wagging her tiny tail, and nudged him in the leg with her great head.  

“You were looking for me.  Huh.”  A thread of guilt uncurled within him.  He’d promised to meet Wrecker and Omega for lunch, which had been and gone hours back.  But instead he’d made his way back to the docks in a blur, dumped off the delivery containers, and made his way here to the hidden cave.

He knew he’d been here for hours.  The last brilliance of the orange-red sun lining the horizon was more than enough of a cue, let alone the thirst on his tongue and his growling stomach.  But he hadn’t been able to move more than enough to stand up now and then and skip stones into the flowing water, watching them sink.  Inevitably he had tired of that and had gone back to sitting, until he got so restless he had to stand and pace and throw again.  His aim with his left was getting better, but still nothing like his right had been.

Batcher rumbled one of her little noises that meant she wanted to go.  He sighed, following her obediently as the dusk deepened and the sky shifted from blues and violets to space-deep blacks.  

“Did one of them send you after me?” he asked, fully aware of the absurdity of asking the question.  She trotted along the rocky shore and into the sandy reaches, panting as he came along behind her.

He let out a long, shaky breath.  The old man’s face swam back into his mind, confused and kind and yet so certain his name was --

He picked up the pace, jogging along the hound, welcoming the exertion and the way his heart rate rose.  The breeze sheared past him, cold at first, then pleasantly cool as he ran.  He could try to think about his breath.  Try to think about his footsteps in the sand.  Try to think of his arms pumping, the right arm moving more swiftly with the lighter weight.  Try to think about anything but --

He shook his head, growling, furious at being back there again.  He couldn’t shake it.  Couldn’t shake the sound of Tech’s name in the old man’s voice.  Couldn’t stop thinking about Kamino, how sometimes their trainers would mix up him and Tech before his hair turned silver, before Tech needed the goggles.  He thought about Tech’s face, once a mirror to his own, and he burst forward, the breath tearing itself from his lungs as he reached the beachside stairs.

He slammed to a stop, folding himself in half, left hand gripping his knee, right arm tight against his thigh.  He panted in the night air, his chest searing like a wound.  He couldn’t catch his breath.  He choked, trying to find it, trying to stop the panic clawing out of him, but all he could do was stand there gasping.

Batcher turned, leaning her heavy head against his leg, and he reached out to cling to her as if she was the last bit of dry land in a churning sea.  Gradually his breathing slowed to a ragged rhythm, Omega’s meditation distant and impossible, lost to him now.  He pressed the hound closer to him, taking in gulps of cool air, blinking back the water in his eyes.

“Come on,” he managed.  “Time to go home.”

They took the stairs slowly, following the strings of solar lamps strung along the path, and eventually the lights of their little home appeared around the bend.  He swallowed, looking at their little home, seeing glimpses of Hunter, Wrecker and Omega through the windows.  It looked like they were having dinner.  Probably talking about their days.  Normal things for a normal life.  He wondered what that was like.

The door slid open for him.  He nodded slightly to his siblings, sitting at the dinner table.

“Crosshair!” Omega said.  She took a look at him, face scrunching into a frown.  “You didn’t come up for lunch.  Are you okay?”

“Yeah, you had us worried, Cross,” said Wrecker.  Hunter looked at him curiously, waiting for his response.

“The deliveries went long,” he lied.  “It’s easy to get turned around.  I’ll make it for lunch next time.”

Wrecker and Omega glanced at each other, clearly not convinced.  His stomach clenched, readying for a confrontation --

“Well, join us for dinner at least,” Hunter said before the others could ask more questions.  He gestured to a serving bowl of greens and vegetables.  “Give this a try.  I think I’m going to plant some in the garden.”

“Oh.  Uh, all right,” Crosshair said, the tension draining out of him.  He was safe from another round of questioning.  He clung to the rescue gratefully, grabbing a plate with his left hand.  

“Come on, try some.  It’s better than it looks,” Wrecker said.

“Yeah,” Omega said, giving him a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.  “Pull up a chair.”

“Let’s see just how edible this is,” he said.  He took his seat beside them to try some dinner, and Tech’s face receded into the background, at least for a little while.

[missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway]

Be Careful What You Wish For (SinsDC)

Be Careful What You Wish For:

Clint Barton x POC!Reader “Nyx”

Summary:

Sometimes all you need is someone else to take the reins.

Warnings:

18+ Only MDNI, Smut, PWP, Rope Play, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex

Notes:

The music set to this session is “Be Careful What You Wish For” by Jack Harris. Give it a listen to get into the mood. Happy Reading Heathens  😈

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Banner by @cafekitsune

“Well, well, well what have we here? A bird of prey on display. All tressed up just for little ole me.”

“Your assistant was getting a little handsy. Not sure how good of a job he did at pulling these knots tight enough.”

“Can’t blame him for wanting to touch the merchandise. Those biceps of yours are heavenly.” You chuckle. Making your way over to the chair Clint is currently tied to. “Besides, I wanted to see how quickly you could get out before I went and trussed you up myself.”

“Oh, Thank God.” The ropes around his torso loosen and fall to the ground around him. “I thought I was going to have to hold back and pretend the whole session.”

Rising from the chair he swaggers over to you. Placing his callused hands upon your cheeks and pulling you into a kiss.

“Hello gorgeous. Just needed to get that out of the way. I’ll behave now. Where do you want me?”

“You’re wanting as little control as possible, correct?”

“Correct.”

“But no real Domination?”

“Correct again.” He grabs your hand and runs his thumb along your soft skin. “Think of it this way. I want you to use my body for pleasure without my interference. Don’t worry about anything other than coming on my tongue and cock as much as possible. That clear enough for you?”

“Crystal.”

“Great. So, again, where do you want me?”

“Lose the cute purple briefs and starfish in the middle of the bed for me. Make sure your head is comfortable but slightly raised on a pillow please.”

He groans at your tone. Giving his cock a squeeze through his briefs before shoving the material down his thighs. Kicking them to the side with a little bounce. Sending a wink in your direction he can’t help himself and back flips onto the king size bed taking up residence against the wall.

“Show off.” You shake your head.

“Excuse me, but weren’t you the one twirling around in aerial silks earlier? I’m just meeting you at your level. Plus what's the point of sleeping with a former circus performer if you won't let me play along?”

“Fair point. Now hurry up and get comfy. I’m just going to grab what I need from the wall. Any texture preference I should be aware of?”

“Nothing to coarse but I do enjoy a bit of a bite.”

“Noted.”

You proceed to collect your preferred bundles. Double checking the length and inspecting for any tears.

Clint clearly had taken your order to get comfy seriously as he lays back, eyes closed and breathing steady. Gently climbing onto the bed you grab his outstretched right hand and begin to secure him to the headboard.

“Mmm. I love it when you manhandle me.”

You shake your head at his antics. “Always a clever quip waiting on your tongue.”

“I know one way you can shut me up.” He grins waggling his brows.

You chose to ignore him as you continue to tie him to the bed. Being careful to be precise with your knots and the amount of slack the bondage provides.

“Secure enough for you? Or do they need an adjustment?”

He gives a tug with all four limbs. Testing their limits with a cheeky grin. “Damn. Perfect on the first try. It’s as if you do this for a living or something.”

“Ha. Ha.” You snark. “I could just leave you here and make my way to Nat’s room instead. Give you time to think about all the things we are doing to each other while you go untouched.”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll stop messing around. I’m dying to know what’s under that robe.”

“Good boy.”

Standing above him, feet on either side of his torso, you untie your red silk robe. Letting it cascade down your arms and land in a pool on his pelvis. Revealing a purple and black silk and mesh lingerie set. Complete with a balconette bra and crotch less panties.

Clint licks his lips and whines at all the supple flesh you just exposed.

“Fuck. Me.” He whispers.

“That’s kind of the point bird boy.” You chuckle lowering to your knees. Hovering over his abdomen as you pick up your discarded robe and toss it to the side.

You push back, sitting fully on his pelvis. Trapping his aching cock between your damp folds. With a swivel of your hips you both moan. You keep up the small circles until you're riding the edge. Holding off on your own pleasure just yet, you rise back up onto your knees.

You maneuver your body until you have spun around and your dripping slit is hovering over Clint’s waiting mouth. You can feel him pull against the restraints. Desperate for a taste of you on his tongue.

“Patience. You’ll get a taste soon enough.” You reach forward and begin teasing his now leaking cock. Giving him slow delicate strokes that have his hips lifting off the mattress.

“Please.” 

“Please what?”

“Please sit on my face. Wanna feel you come undone on my tongue.”

“Well since you asked so nicely.”

You lower your hips down. Cunt barely hovering over his parted lips. As soon as it is in reach enough of his lifted head, Clint sucks your clit right into his mouth. No teasing or slow build up. Straight to the point. Practically setting you off instantly.

Your grip on his cock falters as you give in to pleasurable talents of his tongue. Gyrating your hips til his tongue hits that one sweet spot along your bundle of nerves and sets you off. You jolt upright. Smothering Clint as you ride the wave of your orgasm.

As the fog lifts you rise up on your knees. Providing Clint with some much needed air. As he focuses on taking in lungfuls of oxygen you slide down his torso. Throwing your leg over the side and repositioning yourself over his rock hard cock.

Notching his tip to your entrance you slide down his impressive length. Whining as your pelvis’ touch. Leaning back, you stretch your arms to the right and pull the quick release on his ankle. Doing the same to his left. You're surprised when Clint keeps his legs right where they are.

“Don’t look so shocked. I want to watch you ride me for a bit, Sugar. But thanks for the release anyway.” He winks.

You choose to just go with it and roll your hips back and forth. Grinding down and making Clint hit all your sweet spots. Head flung back and your body moving purely on instinct. You close your eyes as you give to the need for release.

The next thing you know, hands are gripping your waist and you are being rolled over until your back hits the mattress. Your hands are quickly tied together. Opening your eyes you are met with a smiling Clint. He takes your tied wrists and places them around his neck.

He leans down to kiss you. As you part your lips, allowing his tongue admittance, he slides himself back inside you in unison. Causing you to moan around the thick muscle dancing along yours.

He never stops kissing you as he thrusts deep and hard. Increasing the pressure or depth with each muffled moan. He’s reading your body like no one has before. It’s intoxicating.

He finally breaks the kiss. “Fuck this pussy is always spectacular. I’m not gonna last much longer. Where do you want it?” He pants.

“Wherever you feel inclined to do so. I am at your mercy.”

He groans. Hips faltering. “Fuck that’s hot.Wrap your legs around me.”

You lift your legs until they wrap around his hips. Ankles locking to secure them in place. Bringing you even closer than you were before.

“Fuck. Fuck. Here it comes. Just for you. All for you.”

He presses his forehead to yours as his cock surges and then begins to paint your walls white. His climax, setting off your own, as you fall apart around him. Gasping breaths and quiet moans echo through the room as you come down from your respective highs.

“Wow” He whispers into your neck. Followed by a sweet kiss.

“I know. Thought I was supposed to only use you as a toy? Care to explain what happened there?”

“The way you were riding me. Completely lost in the pleasure short circuited my brain. I needed to fully be the reason that look of calm and euphoria was on your face. My bad. You gonna punish me?”

“No.” You chuckle. “I like it when you lose control and give in to your baser thoughts. Especially when I benefit from them. You play it off as you are Mr. Nonchalant but you're very much in control of everything at all times. Giving in means you feel safe here and that makes me a very proud woman.”

“This place is magical.”

“I tend to think so. After all it technically brought all of you to me. By way of Wade of course but still.”

“We better get you cleaned up before Nat comes and drags you out of here.”

“Actually I was explicitly told to only slip on my robe and head straight to her when we were done.”

Clint groans, thrusting his still connected hips into you. “Why must you both torture me so. I know you can feel me getting hard again.”

“Sorry not sorry. Requests are requests. I’m just following orders. Feel free to find the pocket pussy molded after me and help yourself out while I’m gone. After you untie me of course.”

“Should I make sure I put on a show for the cameras so you can perv on me with it later?”

“No objections here. Just make sure it’s a damn good show.”

[mrsjobarnes]

Not the only Cowboy - Chapter 3

Summary: Jake had never been the type of guy to fall first, maybe you’ll be the one to change that. 

A/N~ Sorry this took so long guys, school is kicking my ass right now. I’m a double major so my course load is massive. I hope you enjoy it! xoxo

Jake Sersin x Nurse!reader 

Word count: 1.8k

Warning: Drinking, flirting, and kissing Asshole Ex. Let me know if I missed anything! 

Likes & comments are welcome! 

Please do not steal my work! 

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Nat what am I supposed to wear, I haven’t been on a date in years,” you said panicking on the phone. 

“I'm still confused about why you asked Bangman on a date,” Nat said giggling. You rolled your eyes and kept rummaging through your closet. “Why don’t you wear that blue sun dress you have and your sandals,” Nat said. 

“You’re a Guinness Nat,” you said smiling, grabbing said items, and running into the bathroom to change. “And to answer your question I asked him out because he seems funny and kind” 

“Okay well text me if you need me to beat his ass or save you. Love you, have fun, bye,” she said.

Right as you finished you heard a knock at the door. 

“Coming” you yelled from the hallway as you returned to your room to get your shoes. Once you open the door you are met with Jake in a white button-down and khakis. “Well don’t you look handsome,” you said. 

He smiles and blushes “Thank you, sweets, you look stunning,” he said kissing you on the cheek. “Shall we go?” he asks. 

You all decided to go to dinner before going to the club. You all decide on burgers, which is your favorite.  “So tell me about something random about you,” Jake asks with a smirk. 

You think hard about it and respond, “Okay I know this is weird but I have a fear of birds” you say blushing. Jake tries his hardest not to laugh. “Don’t laugh it’s not funny” you say giving him a look that only his mother gave him, which shuts him up real quick.

“I’m sorry doll, it’s just a little funny. Can you at least tell me why?” he says smiling. 

“So when I was younger I went to a petting zoo and they had a field and coop where you could pick up the chickens so I went to pick up a chick and it turns out it was actually a baby goose and mamma goose didn’t like that and proceed to chase me till I dropped the chick. Ever since then, I’ve been terrified of all birds,” you say looking down at the table embarrassed. Jake looks up at you and realizes what he did. 

“I can understand that, if that happened to me I would be scared too,” he said. “I think my biggest fear would have to be those tiny dogs,” he said with a sincere look on his face. Now it was your turn to laugh except you didn’t keep it in. “Har har har laugh it up but why do you get chased one of those satan spawns don't come asking me for help,” he said smiling at you. He could listen to you laugh all day. “Tell me something else about you,” he said 

“Oof umm I like history like I’m a huge nerd,” you say blushing 

“I like history too but what part of history?” he said raising his eyebrows

“Hmm I’m fascinated by anything from the Industrial Revolution to the Vietnam War, I know that’s a broad timeline but yeah oooooh I also really like true crime,” you said.

Jake’s eyes lit up “I obviously have a fascination with military history. I am fascinated with world wars and what the repercussions are. I also really like true crime. What is your favorite,” he said, seeming genuinely interested. 

“Like my favorite crime or?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. He shook his head, yes, and as you thought about it, your food was brought out “I would have to say like high profile murders or assassinations. I don’t know what it is but I find them so interesting. What about you?” 

Jake takes a second to think about it. “I have a weird fascination with cults. I have no idea what it is about them, I think it all stems from the whole Waco Texas thing happening when I was growing up,” he said. The conversation carried on until it was time for the bill when you both raced to pay for it. “Y/n please let me pay, it’s just how my mama raised me” he said pleading with you. 

“Jake, would you just let me, please, it’s my treat,” you said with starry eyes. Jake had to fight with all his might not to let you win this. Just add it to the list of things he really likes about you. Once the waiter gets to the table he snatches it before you can. You give him a huge pouty face, “Fine you won this time but I'm buying drinks’ you say smirking. When you walk to the car he races in front of you to open your door. On the ride over to the club you continue your true crime discussion when your favorite song comes on the radio and you start singing and dancing along in your own little world. Jake was mesmerized by you, you made him feel something he didn't think he was capable of. 

Once you pulled up to the club you walked straight to the bar and ordered a Long Island iced tea and Jake ordered a beer. Sadly he beat you to paying again much to your dismissal. “Jake once we finish these we should dance,” you say smiling. Suddenly ‘I Like It Like That’ by Cardi B came on and it was like a switch flipped in your brain and you pulled Jake onto the dance floor. You put his hands on your waist and started dancing without a care in the world. Jake was a great dance partner. “Have you taken ballroom dancing classes?” you ask smiling because he had such grace when dancing. 

“Yeah, I had to take my sisters to Cotillion,” he whispered in your ear before twirling you around. After a couple of songs, you guys get water and go to the bathroom. While freshening up in the bathroom you couldn’t fight the blush on your cheeks. You had never had this much chemistry on a first date. Walking out and towards Jake you see a redhead hanging all over him, you quickly get upset and charge at her but before you can say anything he gently pushes her off of him and says “I'm on a date ma’am, sorry” and he walks to the other side of the bar. You stand there grinning like an idiot, you can’t wait to tell Nat. He is sitting on a stool as you approach him. “There you are sweets, here is your water with lemon,” he said, slinging his arm around your waist pulling you to stand in between his legs. “Can’t have the Navy’s best nurse having a hangover” he said, kissing your cheek. He pulled back and you gave him a lustful look. Finishing your water you pulled him to the dance floor when ‘Dancing with Our Hands Tied’ By Taylor Swift came on. 

“Ahhh I love this song” you shout pulling Jake onto the dance floor. As you guys dance you feel nothing but safe in his arms, you could get used to this.  A couple of songs later you guys decided to call it a night. 

As the night comes to a close, he walks you up to your door. You can tell he wants to come in but you’re not ready. “Thank you for this wonderful date. I hope we can have a second one” you say kissing him on the cheek turning around and walking into your house. Jake stood there with the biggest grin contemplating how he could one up this date.  

—

Monday at work all Jake wanted to do was find a reason to go to your office. He tried complaining of a headache, upset tummy, and a paper cut to which Mav just laughed. 

“Hey blondie,” You said walking into the lounge. Jake’s head shot up and a smile broke out on his face. “Heard you had a Paper cut that was life-threatening,” you said grinning while the rest of the team giggled. Mav had come into your office begging you to go give Jake attention so he’d finally do his work. “We can’t have one of our best not feeling well,” you say grabbing your lunch from the fridge. 

“I'm feeling so much better now that you’re here,” he said, smirking as you sat next to him at the table. Everyone continued their conversations, while Jake just kept smiling at you. 

“So what's on the agenda for today?” you say. Maverick answers your question and starts to go into detail, Jake looks over at you and can tell that you are lost. He leans over and starts translating pilot language into understandable terms. “So after all that are we getting drinks?” you ask and are met with a hardy yes from everyone looking at a Maverick who planned a hard day. You chuckle and finish your lunch. When your pager goes off saying you have a patient, get up to return to your office, Jake springs up and offers to walk you. On your way there you strike up a conversation about how you want to get a cat. 

“I just don’t get how you want to get a cat when a dog is a great option,” he said in a serious tone. You just looked at him and giggled.  

“Well I’m not at home enough for a dog plus cats are just as fun,” you say looking at him for a second before walking into the clinic and stopping at the counter to be given the patient’s file. 

“Okay we’ll agree to disagree, but before you go to work I want to know if you’ll go on a date this Wednesday?” he asks with a shy smile. You kiss his cheek. 

“I would love that,” you say before walking into the examination room. Looking down at the chart you walk into the room. You look, your stomach drops and tears start to well in your eyes, you thought you’d escaped him. 

“Hey Baby,” he says with his classic smirk. 

“What are you doing here Blake,” you ask slowly, stepping back and trying to grab the door handle. 

“I came to get my fiancé” 

Tag list

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[hollowbeanz235]

Hey yall, this is my book the park. It was made on wattpad and this is the first chapter, sorry if it's cringy I've gotten better as I went. Enjoy!

-‐-------------------------------------------------------------------

Inks pov

I've been sitting here for a while looking at my reflection in the water, usually there's music and sound in undertone. Such joy and happiness, apparently not today. This is odd, today is odd.

I don't know why I had the impulse to come here, I don't even remember when I came here. God's I'm all over the place.

                              ...

Why do I exist? That's a serious question...I don't remember starting at all, I just remember being. Man my memorie really is gone at this point isn't it, apparently in my lost thought I didn't realize how much time had actually passed.

No one's pov

Ink stood up, grabbing Broomie in the proces then suddenly.

    BOOM

the skeleton jerked at the loud noise, swinging his head to the direction from which it came from, listening with his ears(how?!?!?) Trying to hear more....nothing no noise no birds nothing. " wonder what that was" He said turning back around exploring and or leaving.

But soon in the treeline a saw a very familiar outline " error! Hey hey error!" Ink waved at the other skeleton running towards him and sitting down.

"HI Ink, you seem...like usual." Error seemed nervous, not expecting the smaller one to sit right next to him. " yeah I was just over by the lake, what are you doing here?"

Inks eyes changed whith his emotions, making error blush a ever so slightly a hint of yellow sitting just bellow his eyes."I just found it was quiet in this au today, I just needed to be out of the void I guess." Error looked into the aray of flowers, they were all so beautiful."What on earth are you doing here ink?" Error looked back down at him.

Scilence, only scilence." I-i don't really know, guess I just needed a break." He looked down at his brush, going with the grain.

"That's alright I guess, life hurts sometimes." Ink put his head on errors arm (he's to short to reach his shoulder) and closed his eyes. Error flinched slightly at the contact, he had never been the greatest with it. And sometimes it hurts. Ink slowly started to fall asleep, enjoying the scielence and warmth of his surroundings.

      Time skip, because I said so.

BANG

as the loud noise happend again Ink woke with a flinch, looking around frantically."Ink hey calm." Error brought him back to reality, snapping at him.

"What was that?!?!" Ink said, he was concerned. "I don't know I herd the noise earlier, but I didn't think about it." As they both stood up and started walking towards the noise, they geared up, ink holding his brush and error taking out his strings. With anticipation they slowly made their way around the thick trees and saw it.

"OH MY GOD, LOOK AT THE LITTLE BUNNY." Ink started running towards the bunny, error trying to stop him. "INK WIAT NO, THAT LITTLE THING CANT MAKE THAT MUCH NOISE" error tried grabbing for him but wasn't quick enough.

Slowly, a shadowy figure appeared from the trees. Appearing behind the cute bunny and ink, staring them down with a hungry look on its face.

"Ink, PLEASE just put the rabbit down, and walk back to me slowly." Ink looked at him in concern, but obeyed. Put the rabbit down and walked towards him.*wispering*" why are you so freaked out?" Ink turned around to look at the horror known as the thing.

"That's why" it had multiple legs an odd amount literally there was 9 of them if not more, many eyes and claws. And yet it slightly resembled a dear or a moose, haha yeah maybe if moose or dear was a mix between oh god help me and radiation.

Ink and error stood behind it, weapons at ready. "Ready ink?"

Ink only stared at him " as ready as I can be."

To be continued

So what do you think? Should I keep on writing this rewrite?

[beardedmrbean]

Brother, want some news that made me big mad to hear?

In my hometown a couple weeks ago someone shot a California Condor and now the Games warden is tearing ass to get the guy that did it.

Got any fun facts about that bird to brighten the day or do you wanna suffer with me?

We finally got those off the critically endangered list a year or so ago I thought, ain't just gonna be the game warden going after him. Feds are gonna get in on that and not the FBI but one of the ones that actually does its job.

Wrong about the critically endangered, but we're getting there.

Here's a kinda weird infodump that plays in no particular order, except the last 3 images because I noticed they were numbered.

Here's from 2019

Went through like 15 pages to find a good video, birdoftheweek was on the first page.

Looks like there's a bunch over at Pinnacles, used to hike and climb there all the time but there were no condors that I can recall from the mid to late 90's.

Let's see what the Park Service has to say, (they say there were I'll trust them)

California condors once ranged from British Columbia, Canada down to Baja California, Mexico. This range shrank with the increase of European settlers moving west. The causes of the decrease in condors included poisoning, shooting, habitat degradation, and the collection of eggs and feathers. By the late 1800s, naturalists were already making note of the California condors’ declining numbers and in 1967, condors were listed as an endangered species. Despite this protection, their population continued to decrease and dropped to a low of 22 individuals in the 1980s. All wild condors were then trapped and placed in captive breeding programs in an effort to save the species from extinction.

Since 1992, captive-bred condors have been released at five different sites in western North America (Pinnacles National Park, Big Sur, Hopper Mountain Wildlife Refuge Complex, Vermillion Cliffs, and Baja California). Each release site monitors the flock’s behaviors, movements, nesting attempts, and mortalities. Pinnacles joined the recovery program in 2003 with the release of 2 captive-bred condors on December 20th. In 2016, the first condor chick since 1898 (condor 828) fledged from a nest within Pinnacles. Since their reintroduction, condor numbers in the wild have slowly increased thanks to wild nesting and the release of captive-bred condors. As of the end of 2018, there were a total of 488 condors in the world, with 312 of those flying free in the wild. However, condors today are still dying due to lead poisoning, consuming litter and microtrash, and electrocution from power poles. Learn more about what you can do to help condors and other wildlife here.

ones over by Pinnacles might be in the group for your local deal, or maybe there's other groups in the area too.

Speaking of that area, can I just tell you how confusing it was for me as someone who had done the 152 run oodles and oodles of times when the Hollister clothing brand came out and made it big.

All I could think was who in the world would think that's a place that should have a "cool" clothing brand named after it.

Few years later I learned it was a gap thing and most people had no clue Hollister was a real place, lol.

You may proceed to laugh at me now.

[bigmack2go]

I got live‘sies so its time to appreciate‘sies some brackrond‘sies detailies

Not rly bc but i live how it looks like were zooming up, and then back down the lodge before and after santafee prologue

Why tf is crutchie su confused when he wakes up

Jack proceeds to sleep with one of just drawings wtf

He waves his hand infront of crutchie like „ur eyes closed yet??“

Al playing and leaning on the rail ahhhh ahshwksmdnxlxl (in case u didnt know: i love albert)

Race laughing and slapping specs

Everyone just deads in their tracks and teams up when Albert gives his coment that went to far

Finch scratching his head is so real

DID BIRD FLY TWEETY BOY JUST LEAN IN FOR A GOODMORNING KISS

AND DID GINGER MF JUST REFUSE BIRD FLY TWEETY BOY HIS KISS??

The slap on his chest like „not now honey“ 😭swejfcizp

Ike and mike arent in the same thibgy thing. For fucks sake thank god cuz its been bothering me for a while how they only get mentioned in the same context. I hate it when they do that. Wait nvm that looked like mush but it actually was mike.

Naw sniper can be so adorable

Did i mention i fucking love jojo

Smalls snd finch sharing a room ™️

Crutchie is so done w jacks bullshit

LMAO BUTTONS COMBING HIS HAIR

Albert posing infront of the „mirror“ is so me tbh

Ive mever seen anyone struggle this mutch to out on a hat as blink. All those tbh thats smt that could be me prolly

Specs babe what r u doing on the floor

Race shaking his jaket is so overdramatic and its perfect

Mush and henry are a duo I didn’t know I needed.

Why is mush acting like hes in a circus lmfao

Tommy struggling with the pants is everything

Elmer just took his cap off, put it in his pocket, and the magicaly made it apear in his other hand???

Who is tommy saluting at

Naw specs is like a big brother to livesies blink and it breaks my heart in the best way possible

Albert jumps in the middle like when i slide through the kitchen on my socks lmfao

Tbh sniper just wanted to move too

Sky. What was your thought process when you looked at darcy‘s ass instead of Katherine‘s even tho you knew this was gonna be in the proshot?

BUTTONS WTF??

Finch is such a mood istg

Snipe honey ily but you are being a little creepy

HENRY YOU JUST PUT ON THE JACKET HOW DID IT GO OFF U AGAIN?

I demant to know what jojo is doing

Ok smalls just sitting there dangling their feet is everything

BUTTONS ALSO LOOKED AT DARCY INSTEAD OF KATH WTH ?? HER ASS CABT BE THAT BAD /j

Kath awkward queen

Darcy going „alright“ like „okay thats enough, im done— your dONE“

HES SO PROUD 🥹

Specs. Going down backwards are leathers. This are stairs. Please watch where you’re goibg

RACE TOO IS EYEING DARCY INSTEAD OF KATHERINE

Istg romeo and jack r the only ones eyeing kathering wtf is thos?

RACE LOOKS AT CRUTCHES SO KNOWINGLY LIKE AN INSIDE JOKES UNDER BROTHERS LMFAO I LOVE THAT. THEYRE MAKING FUN OF JACK TOGETHER AHSHWKENFN

Ok so elmer actually looked at kath but he honestly just looks angry

Tommy boy save me, youre the only normal person here!

Nvm

Race wtf is your deal??

OKAY SOMEONE HELP ELMER I THINK HES HAVING A SEIZURE

How is blink STILL bot done?!

Jacks just talking to the air

Every single one of finches facial expressions. Like i can’t even count them all.

Hes so done lmfao

Mush? Wtf? Stop? Please?

You wanna share with the class tommy? We wanna laugh too

Buttons just watches like he just gave up like,,, ah whatever you do you

Mush is becoming a poledancer??

WJEN DID SPECS GO BACK UP THERE WTF

Race slapping buttons on the cheek like a grandma💀💀💀

We all agree that albert is that one friend where the whole friendgroup thinks he’s the token straight friends but hes everything but that, its just that he doesn’t talk about it a lot. And there’s that one friend (i wonder who/j) that knows fron experienced how thats just so fucking wrong

Elmer is like „😒😒😒—oh shit thats my cue- IM HAPPY“

So i got aprox two seconds into it and now in tired so see u lmfao

[notarobotsadly]

ABOUT ME (the host): -William Afton Fictionkin -Jevil Fictionkin -Cat Therian -demon/angel/divinekin yes those are all lumped together -mmmmmaybe Dragon Otherkin like I know -PROUD TRANSGENDERIST EXPLOSION EAGLE AMERICAN FLAG -happliy married (/p) to @sweet-drmzzz -ADHD (not diagnosed but my dad is and I have almost all of the symptoms) and looking to see if I have NPD (and if I can get a NPD diagnosis without my parents finding out) any resources for either dropped in my inbox are a blessing -STRONGLY against the color purple and ONLY I can bully that color. PROUD #1 ANTI PURPLER (/j <<here as a precaution because that color has it out for me (/j))

about my Kintypes:

>Jevil< -alters that were split because of this number count: ??? -Aesthetics I associate with it: Jesters Goblincore Kind of Goth ngl -General vibe: "I am god" highs and rabies -Opinions on sourcemates: ANYONE CAN INTERACT (enrichment for my cage) also Seam is my peepaw/memaw in memories. -additional like micro 'types that stim from this one: Fae/the fair folk Goblins Imps/Demons kind of godish shit -Origins: present in a really developmental time in my life

>Will A< not gonna speak much on this one because I hate it -alters that were split because of this number count: 12 Sourcemates are encouraged to interact -Origins: present in a really developmental time in my life + the reason I'm still alive rn.

>DIVINE< -a character I will NOT be talking about -alters that were split because of this number count: 1, I think. -Aesthetics I associate with it: basically anything angelic, -General vibe: high energy, somehow. I love geese. -additional like micro 'types that stim from this one: Birds Demonic/Angelic/Divinekin goats sometimes WINGS oh my god I need WINGS. -Origins: saw a character and went "OH MY GOD ME???? Wait."

>kind of placekinish< -I just want to be a place, isn't that being a god in it's own right???

no dni just stances

-don't know what pro recovery or anti recovery means but I do believe when it comes to someone elses mental health issues all we can do is take their words for it especially online when you don't know them that well, and I do believe you can find joy in your mental health issues. It's at the end of the day up the to the person suffering from it and their therapist to decide how it's handled end of story. If you don't want to "encourage a delusion" than just block them. They know how it affects them best, you are a stranger on the internet.

-Pro Endo and not willing to engage in syscourse (on this blog at least) because it's just petty at this point.

-I believe that everyone is allowed to make jokes about their mental health (if the joke isn't going to make it worse) shit like "adhd moment" and "haha autism" isn't going to hurt anyone but people who are not adhd or autistic making fun of adhd and autism is. Joking about it can help ease the pain of it all and clapping back with "just wait till you've suffered like I have" isn't helping? Yes they are suffering that's why they're making these jokes. To cope with their suffering.

-I don't believe the media you consume defines you just how you consume it.

-straight Alloaces Ily, straight Aroallos Ily, lesboys ily, I don't think anyone outside of internet spaces cares that much nor will this hurt anyone

-I consider myself Alterhuman and I am an alterhuman friendly space

additional

-please ask me to trigger tag I'm not good at it but I can try

-blog may contain unreality and etc proceed with caution.

-I use tone tags and don't see the harm in them but will prefer to use stuff like this: (serious) (joking) around strangers.

-I believe in a free palestine and will try and reblog fundraisers and such, please correct me if I get anything wrong.

-We consider ourselves a system and you have no right to know if we have trauma or not as a stranger on the internet end of story.

-if you see any stamps here you made and want credit please let me know

SYSMATES SIDEBLOGS

system and alterhuman sideblog: @sysshitig <<More social on here

-Willaim: @scottjustletmedie

-Sun: @mikumikuyoucancallm3miku

-Malhare: @malharevrthepcport

-Jevil: @thedungeonv2

-Boomboxes/WIP req sideblog @boomboxedbeats

-Queenies Sideblog: @queeniesmansion

-Banhammers sideblog: @tyrantofbanland

all of them are under construction btw.

tags I need to keep track of: #artistic reference #for later #writing inspo #buttons

cred: -MCLS Stamps

[punishing-eden]

The Stars Lead me to You...

Genshin Impact fanfic Rewrite

🍁Kazuha x Lumine/Hotaru🍁

Summary:

Teyvat shifted as the earth shuffled, the wind sang, the water whistled, the birds frolicked, and the air was fragrant.

On this day, the world shifted and the galaxy of stars came together to made way. Telling Kazuha, that something awaits for him at the end of the starry path.

Tags: Fluff, one-shot, rewrite, traveller is Lumine, not reader-insert, Kazulumi, Qixi Festival.

The water glistened as the early morning arose. Liyue Habour was quiet the people were still asleep or, were just waking up.

In admist of tranquility, the Crux was busy up and running. Sailors pulled up the sails, the others mopped and clean the deck. Everyone was doing their part on the ship, all expect for Kazuha.

With his back leaning on the railings of the crow's nest, the Rouin, Kazuha Kaedehara, was simply enjoying the morning breeze. He chuckled before letting out a laugh.

The breeze spoke to him of nature's nonsense. They were a bit lively today.

"Oi, Kazuha!" a crew member called from below, "Do you mind giving me a hand?!"

The young samurai opened his eyes. He looked out to the glowing horizon before casting his eyes down, and jumped out of the crow's nest.

With the power of Anemo, Kazuha landed on the deck unscathed. He gave a nod to the crewmate, and proceed to help with moving the crates out of the sunlight.

As he stayed on deck, Kazuha noticed the atmosphere felt a little different. The crew seems to be, relatively, lively and cheerful. There was something in the air, and Kazuha couldn't really pinpoint what exactly it was.

"So... Is there something happening today? Everyone seems to be in a good mood." Kazuha asked as he carried another set of crates to the other side of the ship.

The crewmate answered with a loud voice, "Well, today is a special day, and Captain Beidou gave us the rest of the day off after morning preparations!"

Kazuha could tell the crewmate was enthusiastic about it.

"That's nice of Beidou..." Kazuha smiled.

The breeze blew by, and its whisper tickled the samurai's ears. It was muttering nonsense again.

"Yes, I can't want meet my sweetheart at the habour," the crewmate said,"It's been such a long time since I last saw her."

Tunning in to the people around, Kazuha listened to what the others were saying.

"I am looking forward to confess today!"

"I am going to attend a family's wedding. Today is a good day for that!"

"Do you think I would meet the One during the festival?"

Everyone seems to have that same giddy feeling.

As time went on, most of the crew had left the Crux for land. Kazuha was back on the crow's nest, by then, the breeze had became a little stronger.

Kazuha chuckled, "What is it you are trying to tell me?" he asked.

The waves began to rock the ship in response.

"Are you telling me to head to shore?" Kazuha asked. Nature was pushing him to go somewhere.

The waves swayed rocking the ship gently towards Liyue Habour.

"Where are you telling me to go?" Perhaps, you could show me a path?" Kazuha asked, facing the habour's direction.

He left the ship and made his way to Liyue Habour. As he walked pass the trees and the greenery, he noticed how everything seems to be a little different. The coincidental hints: the fruit fallen from trees were in pairs, the butterflies were flying around in pairs, the flowers and weeds intertwined with each other as if they were holding on together.

"hmm... Nature sure has it's way of things." Kazuha muttered to himself. As he reached to near the entrance of the harbour, the sky had already turned orange, and the sun begins to set.

The wind blew as the plates of the earth seems to shift. The young samurai felt it. It felt like today the world has shifted in a certain place.

Liyue Habour, Liyue Habour...

The nonsense of the wind repeated in his ears.

He continued his journey and stopped by the peak of the hill. The sky was in different shade of deep blue. The stars begin to come out. They slowy swirled into all sorts of patterns.

"They looks splendid tonight." Kazuha commented.

Night was befalling on the bustling Habour.

He could see the lights and lanterns lit up, and the decorations for, whatever festival was happening, were illuminated.

Feeling inspire, Kazuha thought of a tune. He took a piece of leave from the ground, and improvised a rhythm. He dedicated the song to the stars.

By the time he was done, he looked up the dark sky. He watched in awe as the stars, like mercury, began to merge and lit one single path in the sky.

Follow the path, and it will lead you.

He heard a whisper.

The universing was telling him something, and Kazuha accepted it's guidance and followed the path of stars.

It lead him into Liyue Habour. The streets were bustling with people. Couples, who professed their love and longing. Gifts, were gifted to show appreciation. Street vendors invented games to strengthen the bond between matched pairs. The children laughed as they frolick among the lovers.

Yet, Kazuha walked pass each and everyone, following the path that called for him, that was meant for him. He sees the end of the path, without heasitation, his legs moved faster, and soon he was running.

A smile drawn on his lips when he reached to the end. The end where he was destined to meet someone. Someone, he held to his heart.

"Hello, traveller..." He greeted.

---------------------------------------------------

Author's Notes :

A rewrite of an old fic.

I used to have a Genshin Fanfic account named, Komore Teahouse. This was a Fanfic I wrote for the Qixi Festival during that time. Kazuha is one of my favourite characters in the game, and I love how well his personality fits with the traveller.

Unfortunately, I have since deleted the Komore Teahouse blog (Where I get to Rp as the dog owner, I forgot his name). I won't go into too much detail as to why, but please don't expected me to write anymore Genshin fic. I will only post old ones, if I feel like it.

(C) Punishing Eden

[diaborodevil]

Earth

Perceptor: bumblebee are you ready to receive the equipment

Bumblebee: uh yeah

Perceptor: you seem distracted

Bumblebee: I’m fine

Perceptor: good um what do you think there bringing I’m guessing equipment

Bumblebee: I’m thinking weapons this is planned to become a military base

(We then see a temporary groundbridge open as a bot walks through with a cart full of weapons)

Bumblebee: I won the bet

Perceptor: we weren’t betting

Crosshairs: we’ll you wish you wer I got you some of the finest wares I could scrounge up and yer getting them for free pardners

Perceptor: thanks what’s with the accent

Crosshairs: do ye want the guns are no

Bumblebee: we’ll take them

Crosshairs: good I’m gonna go and get the second cart now

Bumblebee: wow look at all of them oh I can’t wait to try them out

Perceptor: yeah but what good are they if we’re hiding out and there’s only two of us and why start with a weapon supply

Bumblebee: wait did one them move

Perceptor: don’t be perpos oh wait I think one is

(The suspicious gun then leaps off the cart then transforms into a bird like shape)

Lazerbeak: *scawwwww*

Perceptor: it’s a decepticon bumblebee catch it

(Lazerbeak proceeds to fly through a window)

Perceptor: okay we’re going to need to chase it cmon

Bumblebee: but you don’t have a terra alt mode

Perceptor: I know but we need to catch that decepticon

Bumblebee: I’m just gonna grab a few of these

(Both bumblebee and perceptor leave the base)

Crosshairs: I’m back where did everyone go well I reckon I need to leave a note done and I’m good to go

(On one piece of perceptors equipment we see two dots start to move on the screen)

Sam: bumblebee you out here

Daniella: I don’t think we’ll find him out here

Sam: we’ll find him I have questions

Laserbeak: *scraw*

Daniella: was that a robotic bird

Sam: yep it was

Perceptor: it went this way

Bumblebee: okay got it

Sam: bumblebee what’s going on

Perceptor: I thought you said no Terrans saw you

Bumblebee: how do you know he saw me

Perceptor: he knows your name

Bumblebee: fair point uh the con is getting away

Sam: can we help

Perceptor: no your not involved in this

(Bumblebee and perceptor continue the chase)

Daniella: sam what are you thinking

Sam: does mom still play badminton

Daniella: no she wouldn’t even get mad if anything oh I see what you’re saying

Perceptor: huh is it me or is it trying to

Bumblebee: watch out

Sam: pretend to get hit

Bumblebee: what

Sam: if it looks like you get hit it might come to investigate then me and Daniella will spring a trap to catch it

Bumblebee: okay wait were is the other one

Sam: the other guy

Perceptor: that might just work

(So)

Bumblebee: aughhh

Laserbeak: *scraw*

Sam: now

Laserbeak: *SCRAWWWWWWWW*

Sam: we got it

Laserbeak:

Sam: never mind it’s got me

Perceptor: bumblebee go help him also hand me that

Bumblebee: okay you know how to use that

Perceptor: I do

Bumblebee: and got it

Lazerbeak: *SCRAW*

Bumblebee: how strong is that thing

Perceptor: keep it steady

Bumblebee: IM TRYING

(Laserbeak escapes but before he can continue to fly off *bang* he drops into some distant forest)

Perceptor: got it

Bumblebee: phew glad that’s taken care of

Perceptor: next of course is your new friends

Sam: sir bumblebee saved me and my sister and I saved him so could you please

Perceptor: quiet let me talk bumblebee I am upset that you blew our covers but as long as your friends keep quiet I’m okay with that and you can even let them come to the base before our Allie’s come

Bumblebee: thanks perceptor

Perceptor: so what are your names

Sam: I’m Sam and this is my sister Daniella

Daniella: what’s your name

Perceptor: it’s perceptor now if you’ll excuse us we need to get back to our base

Bumblebee: see ya

Sam: bye

(Laserbeak recovers and flys away until landing on a decepticons arm)

Soundwave: oh Laserbeak it is good to see you again and thanks for distracting those Autobots so my trainees could sneak onto earth

Shatter: it is good to see you again

Dropkick: so why did you call us down here

Soundwave: you’ll learn in do time wait did you have a third con with you

Shatter: no you only called for us what do you mean

Soundwave: you were followed

Dropkick: but who is it

(The proto_rocket crashes into the side of a mountain as a figure in a white cloak exits it)

???: RAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

A new challenger approaches