#who did not entirely know what they were signing up for

[anthropwashere]

THIS but fucking. MBTI. When I was still in the Air Force my... hell, I don't remember his position name. I'm so happy to realize I've brain dumped so much military minutiae after only three years out. Anyway. My supervisor's supervisor. This Master Sergeant (MSgt) was OBSESSED with MBTI. It was literally the first conversation I had with him when he took the position and was doing the rounds to meet all of us. We were working for a 3-letter agency AND working outside our unit in an almost wholly civilian org on top of that, so thankfully we didn't work in the same office, but good christ he took potshots at ANYBODY he ASSUMED was one flavor of alphabet soup or another that he didn't "agree with."

He did, for whatever it's worth, correctly guess my flavor of alphabet soup (I have never ever been able to remember or care what my MBTI is, it's fucking alphabet soup, leave me alone) after a 5-minute conversation. He also, however, failed to notice my far more aggressive and obvious extremely mentally and physically unwell signs thanks to my miserable recent divorce and far more miserable unfolding chronic illnesses that were going to end up with me getting a whole-ass 100% disability rank/pay with Veteran's Affairs and insisted on visiting my shit-ass cubicle EVERY. FUCKING. DAY. to CHAT. USUALLY DISCUSSING FUCKING THE MBTI OF VARIOUS OTHER DUDES IN OUR CHAIN OF COMMAND (COC). THAT I BARELY KNEW THE NAMES OF. NEVER MIND WHAT THEY LOOKED LIKE OR WHO THEY WERE AS LIKE. ACTUAL DUDES. BECAUSE. I MUST STRESS AGAIN. WE WORKED IN A MOSTLY CIVILIAN ORG. SO 90% OF THE MIL FOLK IN OUR COC DIDN'T WORK ANYWHERE NEAR ME. TO THE POINT WHERE I LITERALLY DIDN'T HAVE THE DOOR CODES TO ACCESS WHERE THEY WORKED. AND THE OTHER 10% DID LIKE. ACTUAL INTEL SHIT IN OTHER OFFICES I HAD RARELY ANY REASON TO EVER ENTER. AND THE ONES I DID HAVE REASON TO ENTER WITH MILITARY FOLK IN THEM WERE USUALLY FUCKING INSUFFERABLE. AND I AVOIDED THEM AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE. SO. I DID NOT. FUCKING KNOW. WHO HE WAS. EVER!!! TALKING!!! ABOUT!!!!!

Hngh. This is why I try not to think of those awful fucking 5 years of my life. I get caps-lock-y about it. Sorry.

Anyway, this motherfucker like. Trauma bonded? To me? Because of his also miserable recent divorce? And he wanted to fuck me SO HARD while also endlessly ranting to me about MBTI horseshit 60% of every conversation we had (the other 40% and his otherwise normal behavior did actually meet me compatibly on the Normal Human Scale and we got on well, and also he was my supervisor's supervisor so like, I had to be somewhat respectful of his stupid MSgt rank). It was an exhausting fucking. What. 8 months? A full year? MBTI this. MBTI that. Etc. Etc. Etc. ETC.!!!!!!

Anyway the SECOND I said "asexual" he entirely quit talking to me entirely, so I guess that's something.

Secondary anyway birthstone-obsessed people are wild to me. Us March folks got royally fucked over by boring-ass AQUAMARINE and you expect me to take that stuff seriously? Lol

Thirdly anyway I haven't dealt with any hardcore astrology people since high school, but she was my friend's mom and she and her husband were honestly the best role models in my life at that age? To the point my shit-fucking-terrible mom resented her otherwise a-okay positivity in my life for like? A decade?? Hell, she probably still does. It's wild how many times I had to remind my Chronic Gaslighting Bitch of a mom, "I haven't talked to Betty since I was 18, WHAT are you talking about."

Fourthly anyway shout-out to Civilian Megan (whose spelling variation I can never remember on account of having one of those Normal White American Girl names with 50 spelling variations, even with her full name on a paper name plate) who sat across from me and went out of her way to save me from Awkward Lengthy conversations with MSgt MBTI and SSgt Marvel Movies Nerd every goddamn day, she was a real one and I should probably shoot her a 'hi how are you' message on Steam today

“Bat swinging at wasp nest” post but I cannot be nice about astrology people. No you did not find the one good or cute or quirky way to believe the quality of someone’s character is biologically pre-determined. Just because you found a way to not base it on race or ethnicity or gender does not make judging someone’s character on an innate and uncontrolled attribute suddenly teehee fine.

I’m even more baffled by the people going “it’s just fun!” “It’s just a hobby!!” Sure if it was something harmless. It’s not. We are quite literally talking about how you intend to judge, treat, view, respect, and interact with someone entirely differently based on an inherent trait. How are you not aghast? How are you not embarrassed? Why are you so insistent on needing to operate on a hierarchy of pre-determined character judgement?

[lavender-butterfly-cookie]

Forgotten friends

So I read a lot of ancient Y/N cookie stuff because why not and I decided to make my own. Bear in mind that this is a work of pure imagination and judgment will not be tolerated.

Long ago, You were baked along with 5 other cookies, an immense power created within you by the witches. You were all created to the purpose of protecting earthbread and providing guidance to those who resided within it. Knowledge, Volition, Change, Happiness, Solitude and Patience. All created for a great purpose.

Alas, great power always begets corruption. You watched as how your friends will crumbled onto their own strength one by one. You wished you had seen it sooner. Wish you had taken notice of their behavior changing and shifting into corruption. You wish you could've done something sooner. But you couldn't.

You felt... foolish, to put it kindly. All the signs had been there. More cases of injured cookies, more homes being destroyed out of nowhere, the constant plea from the cookies to be protected. But every time you asked who had hurt them, they never replied. You should've realized it sooner. What other cookies had powers strong enough to wipe an entire village out of existence and only leave ashes, flour, jam and crumbs as it's remains?

Regardless of not having seen it sooner, you knew something had to be done. You had to intervene, make them come back to their senses somehow. But every time you got the courage to even walk to their quarters, you never entered. You were scared of what your friends had become, a lot more than you would've liked to admit. Besides, there were five of them and one of you. Even if they haven't crumbled you already, they're still capable of doing it.

With little to no options left you were forced to seek out the help and guidance of the witches. Fortunately for you, they had already come up with a solution. The unfortunate part?

The solution was to seal them away.

You were unsure how to take in this information. Part of you wanted to plead and beg that they find another way. But the other part knew this was the only way to protect earthbread. With a heavy heart you agreed to lure your fallen friends into a trap. Did you like it? No, of course not. They were your friends. But did you have a choice? Also no. It was for the sake of earthbread.

"Are we there yet?" Shadow milk cookie asked, though it came out as more of a whine. You were leading them to the agreed spot where they'd be sealed, having promised them that you wanted to show them something.

"Patience, Milk. We'll be there soon." You said, followed by a soft chuckle. Though you knew that was only to hide your dread. Here you were, leading your friends into a trap, and all you could do was try to divert any suspicion by acting like everything was ok when in reality it wasn't. "We've been walking FOREVER! How far must we go to see this thing?" Burning Spice cookie complained. You had to fight hard to suppress that deep sigh gathering in your lungs. If this experience wasn't already dreadful enough, they had been complaining time and time again how long it was taking and you gradually grew annoyed of them. "Look, not my fault you don't have any wings to just fly there. We all could've been there ages ago if SOMEONE wasn't a wingless pepper, don't attack me!" You retorted. Just as he opened his mouth to speak again you snapped something else.

"And don't even THINK about bringing up Silent Salt cookie. I know he doesn't have wings but at least he ain't complaining!" Though you're not sure if it's cuz he won't or if he can't. Either way, Burning spice cookie let out a grumble of annoyance before keeping quiet.

"Hey can we-" Eternal Sugar cookie let out a long yawn as she stretched out like a cat before snuggling back into her soft pink clouds. "Can we like, take a break or somethin'? We've been walking for ages..."

"Your feet haven't even touched the ground since we left!"

"Mmmh, too much work."

Another deep sigh you forced to not surface out brew up in your lungs again. You hadn't realized what pricks your friends had become. They used to be so nice. Now they're just... Annoying. Though you can't really say you were surprised, seeing as they corrupted in general.

"Applying pressure on Y/N cookie is futile. Our journey will on prove to be more insufferable and longer if we continue to be uncooperative." You heard Mystic flour cookies dull voice say.At least SOMEONE wasn't breathing down you neck. You also couldn't help but realize that the only thing that seemed to be different about her was the fact that her voice held no annoyance in it.

Heck, it practically held no emotion in general. Regardless you found her more tolerable in this moment then the other three. It kind of stung though, knowing she along with the others were following you so willingly to their own demise. But it had to be done.

Finally, you made it to the spot. You told them to stand in specific spots, which they complied with. As you got out of the way, you looked over at them all. You felt your smile falter and your heart began to ache. So you were really doing this, huh? You didn't want this. Not at all. But you had to do this. Once you felt the witches about to begin you let out a shaky sigh.

"Forgive me... I never wanted this..." you said softly, but it was loud enough for all of them to hear. Before they could react you watched five forks come down and imprison your friends, much to your displeasure and their shock. You turned away, unable to watch further. You tuned out their cries for your help. And without looking back, you walked away, your head hung low in shame and pain.

You hid yourself away and watched how the world around you changed. You now concealed your souljam as a pendant on your clothes and you concealed your identity. In fact, you changed it completely. You wondered for many days and night if your forgotten friends would ever forgive you.

Maybe... just maybe... with a lot of patience. Even if they did, nothing anyone said was gonna ever allow you to forgive yourself. Not even the light of patience would allow it.

[borathae]

Red

"Jungkook knows that he can always use his safeword with you. Even during your most passionate of roleplays."

Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, Comfort Fluff, slight Smut in the beginning

Warnings: sub!Jungkook, Mommy Dom!Reader, implied sexual situations, implied prisoner & cop roleplay, implied spanking & pain play, nudity, use of his safeword, the most comforting & loving aftercare for both <3

Wordcount: 1.7k

a/n: i can't find the ask rn, but someone once asked me if Koo ever had to use the safeword with her and how that went. so i decided to write it for you besties and it comes without a surprise that this is incredibly comforting and lovely 💗

 

Jungkook is a masochist. That much is sure to both him and you. He likes it when the ropes pinch a little. He likes it when the overstimulation burns so fiery. He likes it when the tug on his hair stings. And he likes it when the impact play leaves tender spots behind. Jungkook is a proud and very happy masochist. Pain is pleasurable to him, it gets him off.

But even for a proud and happy masochist such as himself, the pain can get too much. He is only human after all.

For tonight’s roleplay, you tied him to a metal pole with his back turned to you and his arms lifted above his head. He can rest against the metal post with his elbows if he wishes to do so. He is entirely naked and drenched in sweat by now, while you are still completely clothed. Tonight’s role play – like all your other role plays – was discussed into the smallest details beforehand. He is supposed to be your prisoner who refuses to give you crucial information and you are the morally corrupt detective who uses torture to get what she wants. It is so hot and sexy and so much fun. You interrogated him as he was tied to a chair and had a vibrator strapped to his cock, manhandled him a little as you shoved him from the interrogation room (your office on normal days) to the torture chamber (the playroom on normal days) and you used just the right impact toys in just the right order to really get him going. It was so much fun until suddenly it isn’t. 

You strike his tender and very red buttocks with the wooden pedal. You didn’t change anything in the way you strike him. You use the same angle, the same speed, the same strength, but it still gets too much for him. The once pleasurable pain becomes incredibly real. 

Jungkook tenses up and instantly yelps up, “ah! Red!”

“I’m stopping”, you exclaim and drop the pedal, “you’re safe. I’ll come closer and undo the bindings, okay?” 

“Yes”, he gets out, nodding his head. 

You caress his back slowly as you work with the other hand, studying his face worriedly.

“Are you okay? What happened?” you ask him. 

Jungkook meets your eyes and drops his temple against the metal pole, showing you how truly ruined you got him.

“I’m sorry”, he says.

“If you are sorry about using your safeword, be quiet. I’m happy that you used it. Did it get too much?” 

“Yes, too painful. I didn’t like it anymore.”

“I hear you. I’m sorry that I didn’t catch your signs.”

He shakes his head, “there were none. The pain suddenly felt too real.” 

“I see.” You lean in and kiss his cheek. “Good job for stopping it. I’m sorry for actually hurting you. I never meant to hurt you in a way where it feels real. Can you forgive me?”

“It’s okay, Mommy. It’s not your fault. You did everything right, but my body just had enough. Thank you for being such a good Domme.” 

You smile. He always knows exactly what to say to reassure you. There was never an instance when you felt like a bad Domme or like you had to be ashamed of what you did. He always reassures you and praises you just right.

“Thank you, Bunny. Thank you for being the best sub ever.”

He lets out a shy giggle. You smooch his cheek in reaction. The knot of the ropes finally opens. His weak arms instantly fall down, knocking a surprised groan out of him.

“Sorry, god sorry, I should have warned you. Are you okay?” 

“Yes, but everything hurts. Mommy, I can’t stand for long. I feel dizzy.” 

“Hold onto me. I’m here”, you gasp, instantly picking him up in your arms. 

He drops his head onto your shoulder, limbs wrapped tightly around you. He loves being carried by you. He thinks that it is impressive how strong you are. It is also really hot to him, but he can’t think of that aspect right now. He feels too ruined for it, finding comfort in your arms as you carry him to the sofa.

The sofa in the playroom is soft and has very comfortable cushions to rest on. He sinks into them with a relieved sigh, having to sigh again when you kiss his forehead.

He is currently resting on his side, while you are kneeling next to the sofa. You are facing each other. Jungkook can barely keep his eyes open when you brush his messy hair out of his forehead. He smiles tiredly. You retort it, kissing his forehead again.

“Does it hurt lots?”

“I guess. It feels like a numb pulsing.”

“I see. I’m sorry, Bunnybaby. I’ll get you something for the pain, yeah?”

He nods his head.

“Do you need pain meds as well? Or just something to cool?”

“Just something to cool.”

“Alrighty, I’ll be back really soon.”

You stand up and wrap him up in a warm blanket so he wouldn’t get cold.

“And, Mommy?”

“Yes, Bunny?”

“Maybe something to drink too, please?”

“Of course, Bunny.”

Jungkook sinks into a mixture of wakefulness and sleep while he waits for you to return. He dreams but it feels as if he was just vividly imagining things. It is such a nice and comfortable state to be in. 

He opens his tired eyes when he hears you come back. You are carrying a tray of snacks and whatever else you need to take care of him. 

You kneel down next to the couch, greeting him with a tender kiss to his cheek. 

“Hey, there.”

“Hey, Mommy”, he whispers, smiling sleepily. 

You lift the glass of water closer to him, guiding the metal straw to his lips. You put it there so he wouldn’t have to move out of the position. Jungkook gladly sips from it, gazing at you. He finishes half of the water.

“Good boy. Here’s a little treat for you. Open up.”

Jungkook obeys happily. You put a piece of hard candy on his tongue.

“Mhhhm, my favourite”, he gasps in a pitched voice, letting it melt on his tongue.

“Everything for my Bunny”, you say and kiss his cheek. You wipe the hair from his temple. “Now. I’ll get behind you and wipe some cream on your butt. Is that okay?”

“Yes, ‘is okay.” 

You climb on the sofa, nuzzling yourself into the cozy nook behind his legs. The couch is big enough to house both of you comfortably. It was very important to you and him when you purchased it that it has enough space for both of you. Aftercare for you and him is very touch-heavy. Cuddles, caresses and being physically close are what work best for the two of you. So it was important that your aftercare couch would accommodate these needs comfortably. 

You lift the blanket off his butt, making sure to keep the rest of him covered. You inspect him. Almost the entire space of his buttocks is reddened. In the middle of each cheek, the first indicators of bruises have started to form. No wonder that it got too much for him. Looking at him, it would have taken you maybe three more strikes and you would have stopped it for him. 

“Looking at you, I feel reassured I’m not an awful Domme. I think I would have given you like three spanks max before I’d have stopped it for you. So I still know the signs.”

“You’re not an awful Domme. You’re the best Domme ever. I feel so safe with you”, Jungkook whispers, dragging his words sleepily. 

“Thank you, Bunny”, you say, giving his back a little kiss before you straighten up again. You pick up the tub of cream and put some of the cooling ointment on your fingers. You spread it on his raw buttocks carefully, going especially gently on his bruised spots.

“This feels so good”, Jungkook breathes, body growing slack in relaxation, “I’m so tired.” 

“You can sleep if you need to.”

Jungkook hums. Afterwards, you and he fall into comfortable silence. You use it to massage his tender spots while he falls asleep. Or so you think until he breaks the silence in a soft voice.

“___?”

“Yes?” 

“Do think that it’ll ever stop feeling so good?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Aftercare. It feels so good with you. It’s like coming home. Do you think this will ever stop?” 

“I don’t think it will. At least I hope it won’t. I try to make it nice.”

“It’s so nice.”

You smile fondly, gazing at the back of his head. 

“I don’t think so either. It’ll always feel so good. I know it”, he says and sighs contently.

You look at him, feeling your heart race unbearably. You love this man so much. You have to be closer to him. It is impossible to exist otherwise.

You open the blanket to get under it behind him. You spoon him, wiggling your arms around him. Jungkook melts into you, holding your hand instantly.

“You know that I adore you, don’t you?” you whisper into his hair. 

“I adore you too.” He kisses your knuckles. “And I loved today. Thank you for this. I’d like to do it again someday, just maybe with less spanks.”

You snicker. He does too.

“Mhm yeah, agreed. Less spanks, more edging.”

“Nooo. No edging”, he whines with a pout.

You chuckle, talking between kisses to his face and neck. 

“Yeees, all the edging for you.” 

“Mommy, this is so unfair”, he complains, shivering each time you kiss a new spot. This is so relaxing to him.

“I think it’s fair.”

Jungkook huffs out air and pouts. You laugh fondly, cradling his cheek so you can turn his head to you. He gazes, but pouts for dramatic effect. You decide to take matters into your own hands and kiss his cute pout away. 

Jungkook gladly accepts it, heart racing like crazy in his chest. He turns in your hold, hooking his arms behind your head which naturally deepens the kiss. 

Truly, being with each other feels like home. Even something as serious as using your safewords will always end in comfort and love. That’s what it means to be with your soulmate. 

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Jus In Bello | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: yay arrests, canon violence, canon gore, henriksen being lowkey bigoted, mentions of smut (MDNI, 18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 6043

A/N: my american readers, i know we are all mourning this week. i hope that this brightens your day a bit. i love you all!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

Somewhere in Colorado, you and the Winchesters managed to track Bela down to a hotel. You rushed in with your gun stowed in your jacket and were surprised to find no one. Confused, you searched through drawers hoping to find the Colt instead. 

“Any sign of it?” Dean whispered commandingly. 

“No,” you replied. “This is definitely her room, though.” You held up three wigs from the dresser. 

Suddenly, the phone in the room rang. You shared a confused look with Sam and Dean. You picked the phone up trepidatiously, and didn’t say a word into it. 

“(Y/N)? Sweetie, are you there?”

“Bela,” you hissed. “Where are you?”

“Two states away by now.”

“Where?” you snarled. 

“Where’s our usual quippy banter? I miss it,” she sing-songed. 

“I want it back, Bela. Now.”

“Your little pistol, you mean?” she tsked. “Sorry, I can’t at the moment.”

“You understand how many people are gonna die if you do this?” you argued. 

“What exactly is it that you think I plan to do with it?” she scoffed. 

“Uh, I don’t know, take our only weapon against an army of demons and sell it to the highest bidder?” you remarked. 

“You know nothing about me,” she replied bitingly. 

“I know I’ll stop you,” you said evenly. 

“Tough words for a gal who can’t even find me.”

“I’ll find you, I swear to god. Because I have absolutely nothing better to do than hunt you down and kill you,” you said. 

“That’s where you’re wrong. You’re about to be quite occupied.” Her words had a sinking feeling forming in your stomach. “Did you really think I wouldn’t take precautions?”

Suddenly, police officers burst into the room and pointed guns at you and the Winchesters. Immediately, you put your hands above your head and dropped the phone. 

“Hands in the air!” an officer shouted. “Down on your knees.”

“That bitch,” Dean growled from his position on the floor beside you. 

The officers forced you down onto the ground with your hands behind your back. When the officers repeated your Miranda rights, though, you noticed Bela had only given your first name. Thankfully, your full identity was still concealed. 

Though, that momentary relief quickly dissipated when you heard the voice of the man you’d spoken to on the phone of that bank in the shapeshifter case.

“Hi, guys,” Henriksen said. “It’s been a while.”

You watched Dean lay his head down on the floor beside you in defeat. 

***

Stoicism had always been your forte when it came to run-ins with the police. Dean, however, was as quippy and defensive as ever. You loved him more than anything, but that was definitely not going to work in your favor in this situation. 

Dean and Sam were shackled together and brought into the police station first. Meanwhile, one guard stayed with you in the police car. Unfortunately, you were frisked upon your arrest, and anything you had to help you get out of your cuffs were now unavailable to you. 

One other guard returned and led you into the police station. You cut your eyes at the secretary clutching a rosary and cowering in fear while she muttered what you assumed to be a prayer. You smirked at the irony of the situation. 

You were then thrown into the cell across from Sam and Dean; the only two cells in the entire station. You remained silent, not even talking to Sam and Dean. Your anxiety was quickly getting the better of you. No matter what escape plan you tried to think of, you knew it was a lost cause. 

“Hey there, sweetheart,” Dean called from across the hall. 

You kept your eyes at the ground. 

Then, the sound of footsteps you attributed to Henriksen approached. He stopped between the two cells, pacing around and addressing the three of you. “You know what I’m trying to decide?”

“I don’t know—”

‘Don’t do it, Dean,’ you thought. 

“What?” your partner continued to remark. “Whether Cialis will help you with your little condition?”

“What to have for dinner tonight.” Henriksen clearly had no time for Dean’s comments today. “Steak or lobster, what the hell, surf and turf. I got a lot to celebrate. I mean, after all, seeing you three in chains…”

“You kinky son of a bitch. We don’t swing that way,” Dean sneered. 

“Now, that’s funny.” 

“You know, I wouldn’t bust out the melted butter just yet,” Dean continued. “Couldn’t catch us at the bank, couldn’t keep us in that jail.”

“You’re right. Fucked up,” Henriksen nodded. “I underestimated you. I didn’t count on you being that smart, but now, I’m ready.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, ready to lose us again?”

“Ready like a court order to keep you in a supermaximum prison in Nevada till trial. Ready like isolation in a soundproof, windowless cell, so that between you and me… probably unconstitutional.”

Your stomach flipped again at his words. 

“How’s that for ready?” Henriksen smiled. “Take a good look at Sam and— oh, nice to meet you, (Y/N)— you three will never see each other again.”

You felt like you could throw up. 

“Aw,” the officer mocked. “Where’s that smug smile, Dean? I want to see it.”

Dean shook his head in disbelief. “You got the wrong guys.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot. You fight monsters. Sorry, Dean. Truth is, your daddy brainwashed you with all that devil talk, and no doubt, touched you in a bad place.”

‘Oh, fuck. C’mon, Dean, don’t do it,’ you silently begged. 

“That’s all. That’s reality,” Henriksen finished. 

“Why don’t you shut your mouth?” Dean spat through his teeth. 

“Well, guess what. Life sucks. Get a helmet. ‘Cause everybody’s got a sob story. But not everybody becomes a killer,” the officer pushed back. “And now I have three less to worry about. But what I’m curious about…” Henriksen turned to you. “What happened to you, (Y/N)? What’s your sob story?”

You stared up at him through your eyebrows angrily. 

“What, you met these two on the road somewhere? They convince you of this Satanist crap? Then what, you start givin’ it up to one of ‘em?”

“You shut your mouth now, Henriksen,” Dean roared. 

“Hmm,” the officer hummed. “I’m guessing it was Dean. I almost feel sorry for you. But I gotta tell you, that’s not your only issue, here. It took a while, but I figured you out. You an immigrant? ‘Cause you’re undocumented. Where you from? So I can send your ass back wherever you came from, and they can deal with you as they see fit.”

You still did not respond to him despite the rage and panic bubbling just below the surface. 

Henriksen seemed to get bored and look down at his watch. “Ah, well. It’s surf and turf time.” He laughed coldly and walked away from you. 

“(Y/N), you okay?” Dean asked, reflex seeming to have him pulling on the chains attached to his brother to try and get to you. 

You nodded.

“So, this is how it ends, huh?” Dean tried to remark. 

“No, Dean,” you murmured quietly. “We’ll figure something out.” After the “Mystery Spot” ordeal, you just wanted to spend some time with Dean taking a quiet case or finding Bela. This was not how you would’ve chosen for his last three months to go. You couldn’t believe this was going to be your fate.

Your anxiety was quickly getting the better of you, and you wanted nothing more than to be in the cell with Sam and Dean just for some form of comfort. 

Instead, you were isolated from them. You were feeling more and more isolated from both Winchesters lately. Maybe not physically but mentally. Mentally, you were just living in fear of the day that Dean left you. You were scared of what you were going to become after his death, especially after what the trickster told you. 

A man entering the cells from the office area caught your attention. He closed the heavy door behind him. “Sam and Dean Winchester. And Ms. (Y/N). I’m Deputy Director Steven Groves. This is a pleasure.”

“Well, glad one of us feels that way,” Dean sneered. 

“I’ve been waiting a long time for you three to come out of the woodwork.” Suddenly, Steven spun around and shot at you, hitting you in the left shoulder. You shrieked in pain. 

“(Y/N)!” Dean and Sam yelled. 

You fell back to the ground and scrambled around the cell trying to get away from the shots the man was firing. 

Sam must have realized the man was possessed and began the exorcism ritual, making Steven’s head whip from side to side. He stopped firing, thankfully. “Sorry, I've gotta cut this short. It’s gonna be a long night, fellas.” Then, the familiar black smoke shot out of Steven’s body, and the man screamed. 

Henriksen and two other officers burst through the door. 

“What the hell was that?” one officer asked. 

“Put the gun down!” another commanded.

“He shot him!” 

Sam froze, still holding the gun. “I didn’t shoot him, okay. I didn’t shoot anyone.”

“He shot me!” you squeaked pointing to the man on the ground. You rolled toward the cold cement floor holding your left shoulder with the opposite arm. 

“Get on your knees, now!” Henriksen ordered. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” Sam mollified. “Don’t shoot. Please. Look. Here.” He passed the gun through the bars. “Look. We didn’t shoot him. Check the body. There’s no blood. We did not kill him. Go ahead, check him.”

One officer stooped to check Steven’s body. “Vic, there’s no bullet wound.”

“He’s probably been dead for months,” Dean explained. “What did you do to him?” Henriksen demanded. 

“We didn’t do anything,” Dean responded. 

“Talk or I shoot!”

“You won’t believe us.”

“He was possessed,” Sam began. 

“Possessed? Right,” the agent laughed coldly. “Fire up the chopper! We’re taking them out of here now.”

“Yeah! Do that!” Dean threw his hands up as best he could in his cuffs in exasperation. 

“Bill?” there was static on the other end of the radio in one officer’s hands. “Bill, are you there?” There was no answer. 

Henriksen nodded for the man to go check outside. 

The three other officers stood with their guns pointed at each of you. 

You continued to writhe, the bullet wound in your shoulder making the entire left side of your torso hurt, waves of heat emanating from the hole in both sides of your shoulder. 

“Could somebody help her for fuck’s sake?!” Dean grunted.

“They’re dead,” you heard the radio in an officer’s belt say. “I think they’re all dead.” His voice was cut off with a loud scream. 

Henriksen grabbed the radio. “What the hell was that? Reidy? Reidy?! Come in? Reidy? Reidy?”

Henriksen never got a response. He and the other officers left trying to help the one who was likely dead by now.

You started trying to shove the jacket around your body into your wound as best you could with the limited amount of fabric and range of motion due to the cuffs around your wrists. Then, you noticed a roll of toilet paper atop the metal toilet in the corner.

“Sweetheart, you okay?” Dean asked. 

You laughed through your pain as you crawled toward the toilet. 

“I know, I know, stupid question. I wanna come help you. I’m sorry.” “It’s not your fault,” you hissed through your teeth, trying to keep pressure on the wound with the toilet paper. 

Then, the lights in the prison went off. 

Dean looked up at the ceiling. “Oh, that can’t be good.”

“Nope,” you groaned. “Fuck, man, what the fuck. What is wrong with our lives?”

Both brothers chuckled. 

Henriksen came back into the cell area. “What’s the plan? Kill everyone in the station, bust you three out?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean shot back. 

“I’m talking about your psycho friends. I’m talking about a blood bath,” Henriksen pressed. 

“Um, evidently, they’re not here to help us,” you groaned, motioning to the bullet wound in your shoulder. 

“She speaks,” Henriksen droned. 

“Look, you got to believe us,” Sam begged. “Everyone here is in terrible danger.”

“You think?”

“Why don’t you let us out of here so we can save your asses?” Dean begged. 

“From what? You gonna say ‘demons’?” He raised his gun, pointing it at the ceiling. “Don’t you dare say ‘demons’. Let me tell you something. You should be a lot more scared of me.” Then, he left. 

“How’s the shoulder?” Sam asked you. 

You took a pad of toilet paper with a large blood stain on it away from your shoulder. “I’ll live,” you shrugged. 

“Y’know, if we get out of here alive,” Dean added. 

“Right. So you got a plan?” you asked the brothers. 

Just then, you noticed the secretary peeking around a corner outside your cells. 

“Hey,” you said to her. 

Nancy backed off immediately, scared. 

“Hey, Nancy,” Dean said. “Look, my girl’s been shot real bad. Can you— Can you get her a towel, or something? Just one clean towel, okay?”

Nancy looked unsure. 

“Please, I’m beggin’ you here. Trust me, I don’t do that often,” Dean told her, trying to get her to open up a little. “Look. Look at us. We’re not the bad guys. I swear.” He gave her a smile, and Nancy shuffled away. 

You deflated. “Nice try,” you told Dean. “Thank you.” Your eyes sank to the ground, and then, movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. 

It was Nancy, who was back with a towel. 

“Thank you,” you smiled gratefully. 

“Thanks, Nancy,” said Dean. 

Nancy backed away from you when she’d given you your towel. Suddenly, Sam grabbed her from behind and pulled her against the bars. 

Nancy screamed, and an officer came in with a rifle.

“Let her go!” the officer demanded. “Let her go!”

Sam let Nancy go, and she left horrified. 

“You’re okay, Nance?” the officer asked her.

She nodded. 

The officer turned his attention back to Sam. “Try something again, get shot. And not in the arm.”

“Okay,” said Sam. 

“What the fuck was that?” Dean questioned, upset. 

Sam held up Nancy’s rosary. 

You snorted out a giggle. 

***

The towel was helpful, but not as helpful as some stitches, a clean bandage, and some antiseptic would be. 

“We’re like sitting ducks in here,” said Sam.

Dean sighed. “Yeah, I know. Would it kill these cops to bring us a snack?!” he shouted out his last words.

“Always thinkin’ with your stomach,” you snorted. 

Dean gave you a playful glare. 

“How many you figure are out there?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know,” you replied. “But they could be possessing anyone. Anyone could just walk right in, and we’d have no idea.”

“It's kind of wild, right? I mean, it’s like they’re coming for us. They’ve never done that before.” Dean smiled suddenly. “It’s like we got a contract on us. Think it’s because we’re so awesome? I think it’s ‘cause we’re so awesome.” 

You and Sam rolled your eyes. 

A sheriff entered and unlocked your cell.

“Well, howdy, there, sheriff,” Dean said to the officer. 

You stood, immediately uncomfortable and alert. “Uh, sheriff?”

“It’s time to go, darlin’,” he said monotonously. 

You backed up into the cell. “Uh, I’m okay! I’m comfy right here. Thanks, though.”

Henriksen suddenly appeared. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“We’re not just gonna sit around here and wait to die. We’re gonna make a run for it,” the man replied. 

“It’s safer here,” Henriksen pushed. 

“There’s a SWAT facility in Boulder.”

Henriksen stepped into your cell. “We’re not going anywhere.” Then, he shot the officer in the head. 

“Sam!” you yelled, and he tossed you Nancy’s rosary as you dodged a blow from the demon possessing Henriksen. You wrestled the gun away from him and threw it out of the cell. You scrambled to subdue the demon and dropped the rosary into the toilet. 

Between shouts from the brothers trying to break out of their cell and Henriksen grunting as you wrestled him, you got your cuffs around Henriksen’s neck and pulled hard. 

You knew it would hurt like a mother, but you flipped yourself over Henriksen’s head and pulled him to the ground with you where the holy-water toilet bowl was waiting. You shouted out an exorcism, continuously forcing his head into the bowl. You sat on his shoulders trying to use all your body weight to way the much stronger man down. 

“Hurry up!” you heard Dean yelling. 

“It’s too late. I already called them!” the demon told you between gasps as his head came out of the water. “They’re already coming.”

You shoved him back into the water and finished the exorcism. 

Henriksen screamed as black smoke shot out of his mouth and into the air vent in the ceiling. 

You got off the man’s back and sat down on the bed, panting. Henriksen had fallen to the floor. You then noticed the small crowd that had gathered around your open cell. 

“Is he… is he dead?” Nancy squeaked. 

Henriksen regained consciousness and coughed. “Henriksen! Hey,” called Sam. “Is that you in there?”

You got down to Henriksen’s level to give him a once-over. 

“I… I shot the sheriff,” Henriksen breathed out. 

You could feel Dean’s next quip coming. “But you didn't shoot the deputy.”

Despite yourself, you snorted out a laugh. You quickly regained your composure when you noticed Sam’s glare. 

“Five minutes ago, I was fine, and then…” 

You cut Henriksen off. “Black smoke? You were possessed.”

He looked up at you in disbelief. “Possessed, like… possessed?”

“That’s what it feels like. Now you know,” you shrugged. 

“I owe you the biggest “I told you so��� ever.” Dean returned his gun to Henriksen. 

The agent stood and addressed the officer standing behind him that you’d just noticed. “Officer Amici. Keys.”

With said keys, he released you and the brothers from your cells and chains. 

Dean rushed to your side. 

“Alright, so how do we survive?” Henriksen looked between the three of you.

***

Dean insisted on patching you up. You insisted you could do it yourself, but Dean was just as stubborn as you were. Finally, you allowed him to work on you. 

Sam had drawn two devil’s traps on the floor of the station in the midst of Dean tending to you. The officer, whose name you learned was Phil, helped Henriksen prepare guns. 

Dean snorted at the guns. “Well, that’s nice. It’s not gonna do much good.”

“We got an arsenal here,” Phil replied. 

“It’s like using a BB gun on a T-Rex. That’s just gonna make them mad,” you informed them. 

“What do you need?” asked Henriksen. 

Dean smirked slightly. “Salt. Lots and lots of salt.”

Phil scoffed. “Salt?”

“What, is there an echo in here?”

“There’s road salt in the storeroom,” Nancy piped up from the corner. 

“Perfect. Perfect,” Dean sighed in relief. “We need salt at every window and every door.”

Henriksen and Phil left to go retrieve it. 

You hissed as Dean made a particularly rough jab at your arm with his stitching and grabbed his wrist. 

“Sorry,” he murmured. 

You stroked his wrist with your thumb briefly before dropping your hand. You turned to Nancy, who looked on silently. “How you holdin’ up, angel?”

“Okay,” she shrugged, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. “When I was little, I would come home from the Church and start to talk about the devil. And my parents would tell me to stop being so literal. I guess I showed them, huh?” 

You laughed softly. “Evangelical?” 

“Yeah, actually,” she replied. “I would ask if you are, but…” 

You laughed. “No. Raised Catholic, though.”

She made a sound of disapproval.

You laughed again. “Yeah, I’m not exactly crazy about it, either.”

Dean finished wrapping the bandage around your shoulder while you talked to Nancy. “Thank you,” you told your partner. 

He kissed your forehead as he stood from his chair. Phil returned at that moment. 

“Hey, where's my car?” asked Dean. 

“Impound lot out back,” Phil replied. 

Dean moved to leave. 

“Wait.” Phil stopped Dean. “You’re not going out there?”

“Yeah, I got to get something out of my trunk.”

You immediately stood to follow him. “I’m coming with you.”

“(Y/N), no,” Dean warned. 

“Dean,” you responded, leaving no room for argument. His gaze was intense, but you held it with equal ferocity. He was the first to look away, informing you that you’d won the argument. 

You smiled cheerfully and followed him out to the Impala. 

As soon as you were outside, Dean was angrily ranting. “I’m gonna fucking kill Bela, I swear.”

“Not if I kill her first.”

“I mean, she nearly got you fucking killed. Over a gun that means nothing to her. What the fuck is she playing at?” 

“Dean—” you tried to cut him off. 

“I swear to god, I’m gonna make it slow and painful.”

“Dean—”

“She’s gonna wish we got locked up in supermax,” he growled. 

“Dean—!”

“What?!” he asked, turning to face you. 

You were looking at him with such admiration, and his shoulders relaxed immediately as did his angry expression. “I love you,” you told him. 

Dean leaned down to kiss you fiercely in the middle of the impound lot, cupping your chin. You pulled yourself impossibly closer to him.

He pulled away from hungrily kissing you momentarily. “I would fuck you right now if I could.”

You laughed. “Demon hunting’s what does it for you?”

“Watching you demon hunt does it for me,” he said. “The way you held your own against Henriksen? Damn.”

You pulled his lips back down to yours but pulled away after a quick kiss. Dean’s lips chased yours, but you turned and started walking forward. 

“(Y/N),” he groaned.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you told Dean’s car as you approached it. You helped Dean pack his duffel bag with various weapons quickly until you caught sight of black smoke hurrying toward you. The lights in the lot flickered, and you smacked Dean’s arm frantically to get him to look. 

Dean immediately pulled you away from the car after shutting and locking it, and the two of you raced back to the station. 

As quickly as you could, you got back in the doors. “They’re coming!” you shouted, slamming the doors behind you and Dean. 

Black smoke hit the window beside Nancy, and she screamed. You grabbed Dean’s and Nancy’s hands and pulled them into the center office with Sam close behind. 

Dean tossed two sawed-off shotguns to you and Sam, and Henriksen looked between the three of you in admiration and confusion. 

Phil, Nancy, and Henriksen had salted the windows while Sam spray-painted devil’s traps on the floor. The building shook as the demons hit what you imagined was the invisible wall keeping them out. 

“Everybody okay?” Sam asked. 

“Define ‘okay’.” That was the first time you’d heard Henriksen’s voice tremble. 

“Alright, everybody needs to put these on,” ordered Dean, handing each person a protection necklace. “They’ll keep you from being possessed. There you go.”

“What about you guys?” Nancy asked.

You pulled down your jeans just enough to reveal the tattoo on your hip while Sam and Dean revealed theirs on their chests. 

“Smart. How long you had those?” Henriksen asked. 

“Not long enough,” Sam replied. 

***

You stayed in the office with Dean and Henriksen while Phil, Sam, and Nancy went to check the perimeter. Henriksen stared sadly at Melvin’s nameplate— the officer he’d killed— and your heart hurt for him. As much of a pain in your ass as Henriksen had been, he had a big heart. 

He then picked up one of the shells you were filling yours and Dean’s guns with. “Shotgun shells full of salt.”

“Whatever works,” Dean shrugged. 

“Fighting off monsters with condiments,” Henriksen said more to himself than you. “So. Turns out demons are real.” He took off his tie and began filling his own gun with the rocksalt shells. 

“FYI, ghosts are real too,” Dean noted. “So are werewolves, vampires, changelings, evil clowns that eat people.”

“Okay then,” the agent nodded. 

Dean smiled. “If it makes you feel better, Bigfoot’s a hoax.”

Henriksen snorted. “It doesn’t. How many demons?”

“Total?” you asked. “No idea. A whole lot, though.”

“You know what my job is?” Henriksen asked. 

“You mean besides locking up the good guys?” Dean smirked. “I have no idea.”

Henriksen began, “My job is boring; it’s frustrating. You work three years for one break, and then maybe you can save... a few people. Maybe. That’s the payoff. I’ve been busting my ass for fifteen years to nail a handful of guys, and all this while, there’s something off in the corner so big. So yeah… sign me up for that big, frosty mug of wasting my damn life.”

“You didn't know,” you told him.

“Now I do.” Henriksen looked thoughtful. “What’s out there? Can you guys beat it? Can you win?”

“Honestly? I think the world’s gonna end bloody,” Dean replied. “But it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t fight. We do have choices. I choose to go down swingin’.”

“Plus, you got nothing to go home to but your brother.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Dean replied, nodding at you. 

You smiled. 

“So I was right,” Henriksen nodded, smiling lopsidedly. 

“What about you? You rockin’ the white picket fence?” Dean asked Henriksen.

He shook his head. “Empty apartment, string of angry ex-wives.”

“Well, if there’s anything this one’s proven to me,” Dean nodded toward you again, “it’s that there’s someone for everybody.”

“Look at you getting sappy,” you said. “Imagine that.”

Dean smirked and clicked the barrel of the shotgun back into place. 

Suddenly, you heard a crash. You grabbed your gun and ran out into the lobby. 

A woman had broken in, but you couldn’t quite see who it was around Sam. 

“How do we kill her?” Henriksen asked, stepping up beside Sam.

“We don’t.” Sam lowered Henriksen’s rifle, informing you exactly who had gotten in. 

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, god.”

“She’s a demon,” Henriksen replied, confused. 

“She’s here to help us,” Sam replied. 

“Are you kidding?” Phil piped up.

“Are you gonna let me out?” Ruby asked. 

Henriksen looked to you, confused. You just shook your head in exasperation.

Sam scratched the ground to let Ruby out of the devil’s trap. 

“And they say chivalry’s dead,” she remarked. “Does anyone have a breath mint? Some guts splattered in my mouth while I was killing my way in here.”

“Show off,” you murmured.

Dean smirked. 

Ruby walked past you into the main office, and you, Dean, and Henriksen followed closely. 

“How many are out there?’ you asked. 

“Thirty at least,” she replied. “That’s so far.”

“Oh, good,” Dean snarked. “Thirty! Thirty hit men, all gunning for us.”

“Who sent them?” you asked. 

Ruby looked to Sam, who stood in the doorway. “You didn’t tell them? Oh, I’m surprised.”

“Tell us what?” you asked, cutting your eyes at Sam.

“There’s a big new up and comer. Real pied piper,” she explained. 

“Who is he?” Dean questioned. 

“Not ‘he’. Her,” Ruby answered. “Her name is Lilith.”

You laughed, immediately recognizing the name. “Like, from Isaiah? That Lilith?”

Ruby nodded. “Look at you, sparky. You almost impress me. She really, really wants Sam’s intestines on a stick. ‘Cause she sees him as competition.”

Dean turned his attention to Sam. “You knew about this?” Sam didn’t answer.

“Well, gee, Sam. Is there anything else I should know?!” Dean roared. 

“How about the two of you talk about this later? We’ll need the Colt.”

“About that,” you said to Ruby. 

She looked at you in anticipation. “Where is the Colt?”

“It got stolen,” you admitted. 

“I’m sorry. I must have blood in my ear. I thought I just heard you say that you were stupid enough to let the Colt get grabbed out of your thick, clumsy, idiotic hands. Fantastic. This is just peachy.”

“Hey, look,” you said. “You’re not my mother. Spare me the reprimanding, okay?”

“Shut up,” she told you. “Fine. Since I don’t see that there’s any other option, there’s one other way I know to get you out of here alive.”

“What’s that?” Dean asked. 

“I know a spell. It’ll vaporize every demon in a one-mile radius. Myself included. So, you let the Colt out of your sight, and now, I have to die. So next time, be more careful. How’s that for a dying wish?” she spat. 

“Okay, what do we need to do?” Dean asked. 

“Aw,” she tsked, “you can’t do anything. This spell is very specific. It calls for a person of virtue.”

Dean nodded. “I got virtue.”

The demon snickered. “Nice try. You’re not a virgin.”

The older brother laughed. “Nobody’s a virgin.”

Ruby looked at Dean and then at Nancy. 

“No. No way. You’re kidding me, r— You’re…” Dean trailed off under your warning gaze. 

“What? It’s a choice, okay?” Nancy’s cheek blushed, and she looked down to her ballet flats. 

“So, y-you’ve never… Not even once? I mean not even – Wow.” “Dean!” you scolded, lightly smacking the back of his head. 

“So, this spell. What can I do?” Nancy smiled at Ruby.

“You can hold still,” Ruby replied, almost smirking, “while I cut your heart out of your chest.”

“What?!” the woman squeaked. 

“Are you crazy?!” you pushed back. 

“I’m offering a solution,” Ruby said in response. 

“You’re offering to kill somebody,” Dean argued. 

“And what do you think’s gonna happen to this girl when the demons get in?”

Henriksen piped up. “We’re gonna protect her. That’s what.”

“Very noble,” Ruby scoffed. 

“Excuse me!” Nancy politely interjected. 

“Guys—” you tried, having heard Nancy trying to speak. 

“You’re all gonna die. Look. This is the only way,” Ruby continued, talking over you. 

“Would everybody please shut up?!” Nancy yelled. She turned her attention to Ruby. “All the people out there… will it save them?”

Ruby nodded. “It’ll blow the demons out of their bodies. So if their bodies are okay… yeah.”

Nancy paused thoughtfully. “I’ll do it.” The room erupted into a string of “hell, no”s.

“We don’t have a choice,” Ruby argued. 

“Yeah, well, your choice is not a choice,” Dean asserted. 

“Sam, you know I’m right,” Ruby tried, but the younger brother wouldn’t look at her. 

Dean smiled, thinking Sam would agree with him. “Sam? What the hell is going on?”

“Sam,” you urged. “C’mon, man.”

“It’s my decision,” Nancy tried. 

“Damn straight, cherry pie,” Ruby commented. 

“Stop! Stop! Nobody kill any virgins. Sam, I need to talk to you. (Y/N), you, too.” Dean led you and Sam out into the hallway. “Please tell me you’re not actually considering this. We’re talking about holding down a girl and cutting out her heart.”

“And we’re also talking about thirty people out there, Dean. Innocent people who are all gonna die, along with everyone in here,” Sam responded. 

“It doesn’t mean that we throw away the rule book and stop acting like humans. I’m not gonna let that demon kill some nice, sweet, innocent girl, who hasn’t even been laid. I mean, look, if that’s how you win wars, then I don’t want to win,” Dean stated. 

“Then what? What do we do, Dean?” Sam pushed. 

Dean turned away, and the wheels in your head turned. “Wait, I have an idea,” you announced. “It’s, uh, a stupid one, but it beats killing a virgin.”

“How stupid?” Sam asked. 

“Like, Dean-level stupid,” you answered. 

“I’m standing right here,” Dean said. 

“I’m kidding. You’re very smart when you wanna be.” You patted his shoulder softly.

“Okay, so, what’s the plan?” Sam questioned.

“Open the doors,” you said. “Let ‘em all in, and we go to town.”

***

You stood near the main entrance waiting for Dean to give the “all clear.” Ruby left moments ago through the doors you stood near, and it gave you a clear view of just how many demons lay ahead of you. 

Nancy and Phil waited on the roof with bags of salt to lock the demons in the station with you to carry out your fabulously idiotic plan. 

“All set?” Dean called to you. 

A string of “Ready!” came from you, Sam, and Henriksen. 

“Let’s do this,” called Dean. 

You broke the salt lines and devil’s trap protecting the doors in front of you. You threw the outside doors open, and suddenly, a demon appeared from above to kick his feet at you. You shot at the demon while you scrambled backward to try and scramble into the office. 

You stumbled toward the audio room, shooting shot after shot over your hurt shoulder. You met Henriksen inside, providing him cover while he waited for the symbol from Dean. 

Your shotgun clicked, having run out of shots, and you chuckled the gun at the snarling demon in front of you. 

“Henriksen, now!” Dean yelled, much to your relief. 

Henriksen turned it on while you wrestled with the demon in front of you, and the demon shoved you to the ground. He had your discarded shotgun pressed to your throat as the beginnings of the exorcism you had recorded played over the station’s radio system. 

The demons screamed horribly as your voice carried over the loudspeakers, and the demon above you rolled off, allowing you to breathe once more. As the exorcism finished, you struggled to get to your feet. You checked on Henriksen behind you, who’d also had a tussle with a demon, and he sighed in relief. 

You stumbled out of the audio room with Henriksen in tow, and you found the boys making their way out of the office.

After stepping over the collapsed, formerly possessed people scattered across the floor, Dean tucked you into his side as you took in the scene around you. You wiped blood off your lip and laughed in relief. You put your arm around Sam, and the three of you stayed there silently for a moment. 

***

You bid goodbye to Henriksen, Nancy, and Phil, and the FBI agent had said he’d kill you, Dean, and Sam in his report back to the Bureau. Despite how rocky your relationship with the man had been, you were grateful for the way it’d ended. 

Now, in your motel room, you packed up, and Ruby appeared at the door. 

“Turn on the news,” she ordered, walking into the room. 

You did so.

“The community is still reeling from the tragedy that happened just a few hours ago. Authorities believe a gas main ruptured causing the massive explosion that ripped apart the police station and claimed the lives of everyone inside. Among the deceased, at least six police officers and staff, including sheriff Melvin Dodd, deputy Phil Amici, and secretary Nancy Fitzgerald as well as three FBI agents, identified as Steven Groves, Calvin Reidy, and Victor Henriksen.”

Your hand flew to your mouth in horror.

“Three fugitives in custody were also killed. We’ll continue to follow the story here at the scene, but for now, back to you, Jim.”

Ruby turned off the television and looked at the three of you with an “I-told-you-so” look.

“Fuck you, Ruby,” you huffed. 

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” she responded. 

“Must’ve happened right after we left,” said Sam. 

Ruby tossed hex bags to you and the brothers. “Considering the size of the blast, smart money’s on Lilith.”

“What’s in these?” you asked.

“Something that’ll protect you. Throw Lilith off your trail… for the time being, at least.”

You nodded to her in thanks, and Sam thanked her audibly. 

“Don’t thank me,” she scoffed. “Lilith killed everyone. She slaughtered your precious little virgin, plus a half a dozen other people. So after your big speech about humanity and war, turns out, your plan was the one with the body count. Do you know how to run a battle? You strike fast, and you don’t leave any survivors. So no one can go running to tell the boss. So next time, we go with my plan.” With that, she left. 

Your head dropped in exasperation, and Dean reached over to grab your hand. He squeezed tightly, and you and the Winchesters sat in silence for a long while. 

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

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

May I take a moment to be utterly predictable and give my defense of the Rohirrim for failing to understand that Éowyn was not yet dead on the Pelennor Fields?

I know everyone likes to poke fun at my guys. “Oh, if Éowyn was so important, how is it that they didn’t even think to check whether she was really dead? Why did they need Imrahil to set them straight? What a bunch of goofs!”

But, really, I think this was entirely understandable. Éowyn’s critical injury wasn’t (just) some common battlefield wound. She was suffering from the Black Breath, a malady brought on by the Witch King and which puts someone into a “deadly cold” sleep until they pass in silence to death. And she had it BAD — it lays on her “heavily,” and given her one-on-one direct contact with the Witch King, she may very well have had a bigger dose of it than anyone else ever did. 

The Black Breath was well known in Gondor. There were “many” sick with it in Minas Tirith’s Houses of Healing, as the forces of Gondor had been tangling with the Nazgûl since the taking of Osgiliath nine months earlier and who knows how often in other instances. They didn’t have a cure for it, but they certainly recognized it. Imrahil would have known about it and even seen it himself in Faramir and perhaps in others in the Houses of Healing when he brought Faramir in.

But you know who had never seen a case of Black Breath before? The Rohirrim! They weren’t used to having Nazgûl up in their business. There’s no long established history of the Fell Riders parading around in Rohan, fighting with the Rohirrim. The few Nazgûl that are sighted there in the lead up to the War of the Ring are in the sky, not landing and engaging directly with the people. So how should the Rohirrim be able to easily spot the difference between the (death-like) effects of the Black Breath and actual death? How should they even know that the Black Breath is a thing that exists? They shouldn’t!

Did they screw up by not taking the time to do a comprehensive check of Éowyn’s various vital signs? Yes. But is it ridiculous that their cursory check of her didn’t clue them in to her unique and previously-unknown-to-them sickness that had all the appearance of death? I don’t think it is. Éomer and his men aren’t dummies. They were just non-healers with no relevant expertise who were experiencing massive emotional distress while in the middle of an active battlefield. Imrahil, by contrast, knew what to look for, had no emotional investment in Éowyn to cloud his judgment, and came upon her much closer to the city, where things were quieter and less chaotic. OF COURSE he did better! The Rohirrim made mistakes, but they were understandable mistakes! So let’s all cut Éomer some well deserved slack, yes?

[raysrays]

Fatal Attraction Chapter Six (NSFW)

18+ MDNI‼️

CW for the entire story: Breeding, Size Difference, Size Kink, Jealousy, Scent Marking, Age Difference, Vaginal Sex, Possessive Behavior, Angst, Twisted, Creampie, Angry Sex, Anal sex, Vaginal Fingering, Hair-pulling, Biting, Master/Pet, Light Dom/sub, Violence, Knotting.

Content disclaimer: This story is inspired by the amazing artist @PammyJammy117 on Twitter/X/Bluesky. I in absolutely no way own or claim the idea of the "Cryptid Rengoku" character. Please give credit to the original artist who inspired the story.

*Please read authors note at the end! <3

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five.

Y/N Perspective.

It was finally the day, the day I’d leave with Tamayo and Yushiro to search for Giyu Tomioka. Kyojuro had sulked all morning, his mood dark despite granting me permission. Apparently, agreeing doesn’t mean acting mature about it.

I stopped by his den, knowing I wouldn’t see him for a while. Which… would be strange, considering I’ve gotten used to seeing him almost every day.

I ran my fingers through the thick fur between his ears, gently massaging. His tail coiled around my thigh, pulling me closer, as he leaned into my touch like a cat.

“I don’t want you to go,” his voice, low and resonant, echoed around us. “Stay here with me. Forget this nonsense of traveling. I’ll keep you warm, and fulfilled… you know I can.” His words dripped with persuasion.

I smiled softly, tracing the edges of his ears. “I’ll be back soon, you know that. Time will fly by, I promise,” I tried, my voice tender, though the reassurance felt weak.

His ears twitched, flattening with frustration. “My mate is leaving me… for who knows how long. I’ll miss you.”

My heart clenched, unfamiliar pain filling the space between us. I had never seen him like this, it’s more of a sad begging than an anger.

I continued to stroke the soft fur along his head and shoulders, pressing gentle kisses between his eyes and on his forehead. His purring and soft clicks were a small comfort, a sign that I was soothing him. When I pulled back to look at him, though, his expression still seemed sad. It was hard to believe that this was the same cryptid monster that scared half the world. Right now, he looked more like a big, heartbroken puppy.

“I have to go, Kyojuro… but I promise I’ll be back soon! And when I return, I’ll bring so many food offerings, you won’t know what to do with them all.” I smiled brightly, hoping to lift his mood.

It worked. His ears perked up, and that familiar sharp, toothy grin spread across his face.

“You… you really mean it?” His voice had a spark of excitement.

I laughed, unable to resist how cute he was in this moment. “Of course! I promise.”

Suddenly, his tail coiled around my waist, pulling me up to his height until we were eye-to-eye. He pressed his forehead against mine, the touch warm and intimate.

“You will come back to me,” he murmured, his tone soft but commanding. “I won’t let you stay away for long. You are mine… my mate. I don’t want anything else to try and take you away.”

His voice was gentle but firm, leaving no room for argument. Not that I wanted to. The truth was, I wasn’t planning to run.

I know now, I’m falling in love with this cryptid, I’m falling in love with kyojuro…

I felt his tail tighten around my waist, and his teeth grazed my skin in warning nips.

“Just hold still,” he growled low, the rumble vibrating against me.

Before I had time to process, a sharp, burning pain shot through me as his teeth sank into the flesh where my neck met my shoulder. I gasped, my fingers clutching the fur on his shoulders, holding on as the sting pulsed through me. After a moment, he withdrew, licking the blood from his lips.

“Forgive me, little human,” he murmured, his tone almost tender. “But I need my marks fresh before you go. My scent must linger.”

I nodded weakly. No matter how many times he did this, it never got easier. But if it meant he’d let me go, I wasn’t going to fight him. I’d just have to cover it up with my clothes and bandages later.

He leaned in, licking the blood from my neck and shoulder, his touch both cleaning and claiming.

“Go now,” he commanded softly, his voice lingering in my ear. “But don’t take too long. Tomioka may not be the most vicious monster… but he’s not one to underestimate.”

“I understand,” I replied, managing a small smile. “I’ll keep my guard up.”

His gaze lingered on me for a long moment before his grip loosened, and he set me gently back down.

“Farewell, my mate. Be careful,” he said, his voice softened now, almost vulnerable.

I gave him one last reassuring smile before turning to leave the den, the weight of his gaze still on me as I walked away. As I made my way back to the safe house, the tension in my chest slowly eased.

When I arrived, Tamayo and Yushiro were busy preparing medical supplies.

Yushiro glanced up as I emerged from the woods, his expression a mix of confusion and irritation.

“What the hell were you doing out there? You should be helping us pack,” he snapped, his voice laced with annoyance.

“Sorry… just doing some last-minute searching,” I said, chuckling awkwardly.

That was such a terrible excuse…

“Searching? For what, exactly?” he scoffed, clearly unconvinced.

“It doesn’t matter,” Tamayo cut in, her tone gentle but firm. “Y/N, go finish gathering the rest of the supplies.”

I silently thanked her for the save and hurried inside to help with the packing, the dull ache in my shoulder still nagging at me.

————————

Once everything was loaded up, we set out on the road. Climbing uphill, lugging bags full of supplies. This was definitely the last thing I wanted to be doing.

The air grew colder as we traveled further north, though it wasn’t unbearable yet. Still, it made me miss Kyojuro’s warmth, the way he’d wrap himself around me, engulfing me in his heat, making even the coldest nights bearable.

But for now, I pressed on. I made small talk with Tamayo and Yushiro, though the conversation mostly revolved around Giyu Tomioka and what we might face if we encountered him.

If I’m being honest, the thought made me nervous. As Kyojuro’s mate, Tomioka would undoubtedly pick up on his scent, a fellow Hashira’s scent. What concerned me was how he’d react. Would he respect it… or take it as a challenge?

The journey to our destination took about three days. We had to camp out multiple times and take frequent breaks because of the brutal weather. The northern shore was nestled in one of the most inconvenient, hard to reach places.

And this “beach” was anything but inviting. Jagged rocks in place of sand, a gloomy atmosphere hanging over us, and a biting chill in the air. It was a stark contrast to Kyojuro’s warm, vibrant territory.

But then I reminded myself: Giyu Tomioka is known as “The Kraken Hybrid.” A place like this, dark and cold, made far more sense for him than any forest ever would.

“We’re at the heart of it now,” Tamayo announced, her voice cutting through the wind. “We’ll set up camp and the research stations here.”

Yushiro and I exchanged a glance and got to work, picking a spot close enough to keep an eye on the waters but far enough from the high tides that we wouldn’t be caught off guard.

Our setup was decent, but Tamayo hadn’t mentioned how long she planned to stay here. Given the conditions, I hoped it wouldn’t be long.

I was debating whether to head out on my own to try and find Tomioka. With Kyojuro’s scent still on me, he’d be more likely to approach if I was alone. I didn’t want a repeat of what happened in Shinazugawa’s territory, these monsters are cautious around groups. It’s the same with Kyojuro. There’s no way he wasn’t aware of Tamayo’s safe house at the edge of his forest. He had to have known.

Tamayo’s spent her life researching and hunting these creatures, yet none of them have ever come near her. I don’t understand it. Still, I’m determined to bring her something, proof that her years of hard work weren’t all based on conspiracies and old folklore.

I’m hopeful. If we just keep looking, we’ll find something.

It took the rest of the evening to set everything up, and by the time we finished, we were all exhausted. Tamayo eventually sent Yushiro and me to fish by the shoreline. As usual, the silence between us was heavy, almost awkward. I never understood why she was so insistent on pairing us together for tasks like this.

When we got back with our catch, we started a small fire and cooked the fish. Surprisingly, it tasted pretty good, though I couldn’t help but think how much better it would’ve been with the right herbs and spices.

“We’ll rest tonight and begin our search tomorrow,” Tamayo said as we ate. “I want to stay for at least four days, long enough to find something of value.”

Yushiro glanced up from his food. “None of us are familiar with this territory. Where exactly do we start?”

Tamayo paused, considering his question for a moment before responding. “We’ll split up. Y/N, you’ll take one side of the shore, and Yushiro will take the other. Go as far as you can. I’ll cover the beach and the cliffs.”

I looked at her, concern creeping in. “Are you sure that’s safe? That’s a lot of ground to cover on your own.”

She smiled softly, her eyes calm but resolute. “I’ll be fine. You two focus on the shoreline. Pay attention to the water, if there’s any sign of activity, report it. We’ll meet back here before sunset.”

“Understood.” I nodded, but as I stared down at my lap, a dull sting pulsed in my shoulder. Kyojuro’s mark was deeper this time, more intense than usual. Even now, I could still feel the lingering burn of his claim.

I did my best to ignore the ache of the cold as we settled in for the night. The chill seemed to cut deeper out here; Kyojuro’s warm den had really spoiled me.

The ocean’s steady rhythm was soothing, the waves crashing, the wind sweeping through. If only it weren’t so cold, I could almost imagine this place as paradise.

By morning, the sun barely touched the sky. This place seemed locked in a gloomy haze, with a heavy, off-putting atmosphere hanging over everything.

Yushiro and I followed Tamayo’s plan, starting from the center of the shoreline and walking in opposite directions. It was growing frustrating. No matter how far I walked or how long I looked, there was nothing. no sign, no trace, nothing to even hint that something might be lurking here. I found myself scanning the waves for anything, but the ocean remained silent.

This went on for two days. Each morning, we repeated the same routine, and each evening we returned to camp empty-handed. Yushiro’s patience was thinning with each frigid, uneventful day. He’d begun pestering Tamayo to abandon the search early and return home.

But I was convinced we would find something. We had to. I knew these creatures were real. And Giyu Tomioka was out there somewhere.

As the day slipped into night quickly. I sat by the fire, restless and frustrated as Tamayo and Yushiro slept. Was the Kraken Hybrid really this elusive?

Unable to shake the feeling, I rose from my sleeping bag and wandered down to the shoreline, watching the stars scatter across the sky. For all the cloudiness in the mornings, the night sky was surprisingly clear, blanketed in starlight.

I paced along the familiar stretch of beach I’d walked each morning, trying to clear my mind. Of course, Tomioka wasn’t going to just reveal himself to a group of human hunters. He wasn’t foolish, but his ability to stay hidden was annoying.

I walked until the glow of our campfire faded into the distance. Just as I decided to turn back, a splash broke the quiet of the ocean. I whipped my head toward the sound, my heart leaping as I watched ripples spreading across the water. That was no wave… what was it?

Before I could react, something slick and cold wrapped around my ankle. I looked down, my stomach twisting as I saw what looked like a tentacle coiling tightly around me. Then, with a sudden, forceful pull, I was yanked off my feet, hitting the gravelly shore before plunging into the freezing water.

Panic seized me. Saltwater stung my eyes, blurring my vision, but I forced them open. A pair of deep blue eyes stared back at me, unblinking, intense, a stoic gaze that sent a shiver through me despite the water’s chill.

My lungs burned, my heart racing as I tried to pull myself together. I needed air. Desperately, I struggled, kicking hard and paddling toward the surface.

Finally, I broke free, gasping and coughing, my throat raw from the saltwater. My nose ran, my eyes were bloodshot, and my limbs ached from the struggle. But as I gulped down fresh air, I realized something with a strange, thrilling certainty.

I had just encountered Giyu Tomioka.

Shit.

I struggled to paddle toward the shore, my lungs heaving as I gulped for air. The shock of the icy water set my body trembling.

I barely had a moment before another slick tentacle wound around my wrist, followed by another around my ankle, pulling me back. I turned, eyes widening as a dark figure began to emerge from the depths, moving closer to the shore, water cascading down its form.

As my vision cleared, I took him in. Long hair, dark as midnight, framed a face with eyes as deep and cold as the ocean itself. His upper body was muscular, almost human, though gills lined his abdomen. But his lower half tentacles, thick and sinuous, replaced what should have been legs. Despite his stoic expression, he was… beautiful, in a chilling, otherworldly way.

“Why are you here?” he asked, his voice low, resonant.

I hesitated, my mind scrambling for the right words. “My name is Y/N L/N. I’m… a researcher.” That sounded better than ‘hunter.’ “I’m here with—”

His gaze swept over me, his tentacles tightening around my limbs, pinning me effortlessly.

“No… that’s not who you are,” he murmured, his eyes narrowing as he focused on my neck, where Kyojuro’s mark lay hidden beneath my shirt.

“You’re Rengoku’s mate,” he said flatly, a hint of distaste in his tone. “I can smell him all over you. So, tell me, what business does his mate have this far from his territory? You’re miles beyond his borders.” His voice took on a harder edge, and a flicker of irritation crossed his face.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. He knows who I am, and he definitely doesn’t look thrilled about it.

“Yes, I know I’m far from where I’m supposed to be. But I wasn’t lying, I really am a researcher. And as you’ve probably already guessed, I’m not alone here. To keep it brief, I’m here with my team to prove your existence.”

He blinked, expression blank, then raised a brow. “And you expect me to just expose myself to humans? To become some exhibit in the name of ‘research?’” His voice sharpened, irritation clear.

Damn it. Why was I phrasing this so badly?

“N-no, that’s not what I mean!” I stammered. “We’re only looking for proof that monsters once existed… without disturbing any of you.” I tried to explain, but my words still sounded flimsy.

He tilted his head slightly, watching me intently.

“We’re searching for evidence, anything to show that the guardians of this world weren’t just myths,” I added, my voice betraying my nerves.

“So, you trekked all the way here just to prove I exist?” he asked, his tone skeptical.

I nodded. “Yes. I mean, I know about the Hashira… obviously, since I’m Kyojuro’s mate. But—”

“But you couldn’t sell him out,” he interrupted, his gaze piercing. “Not even for the sake of ‘research,’ could you?”

I let out a sigh, feeling both frustrated and exposed. Was I really that easy to read?

He studied me with an unsettling intensity, his deep blue eyes flickering with something unreadable. His grip didn’t loosen, the tentacles wrapped around my wrist and ankle holding firm.

"How foolish," he finally said, voice low and cold. “Humans always believe they can wade into waters they don’t belong in and remain unscathed. Do you even truly understand what you're meddling with?"

"I… I think I do," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, though my pulse was pounding in my ears. "We don’t want to interfere; we’re just searching for traces, something to prove that monsters, your kind… existed. It’s about respecting history, preserving the truth.”

He gave a quiet scoff, his grip tightening, almost like he was testing my strength. "History. Truth. Words humans cling to when they’re desperate for answers. But do you really want to know the truth?" He leaned closer, his breath brushing my skin like a cold breeze. “What will you do when you find it, human? What will you do when it terrifies you? It appears Rengoku has not told you enough. That alone is concerning.”

What, What does that mean?

My mouth went dry, but I held his gaze. "I’ll face it. Because… some of us still believe in what you once were. Guardians. Protectors."

He stilled, his expression hard to read, but something softened in his eyes, a flicker of surprise.

“You think we still carry that purpose? That we owe humans anything?” His voice was a mix of bitterness and curiosity, a quiet challenge in his tone.

I swallowed, choosing my words carefully. “I think… your existence isn’t owed to anyone. But maybe there’s a reason you’re still here, and maybe we’re meant to remember that reason.”

He looked at me for a long moment, his face unreadable, then released a deep sigh, as though weary.

“Fine. Out of peace and my small remaining of respect for Rengoku. You and your group can stay… for now,” he said at last, his voice almost a reluctant murmur. “But you’ll find nothing else. That will have to make do for you.” His tentacles released me, revealing the suction marks on my arm and leg.

I nodded, a small flicker of relief sparking in my chest, even as my heart still raced.

“Don’t return here with such a foolish reason. Rengoku and I have a truce but it would be irresponsible to abuse it,” he warned, his grip easing as he let me go, leaving my skin cold without his touch. “I’ll be watching. And if I sense even a hint of disrespect, I will not be so forgiving. You and your people will leave soon. I don’t wish to see you return any time soon.” He spoke coldly.

“Yes… I understand.” I finally manage to choke out.

His blue eyes glowed in the night.

"Y/N L/N," he murmured, his voice cold and unyielding, "you’d be wise to tread carefully. There are other Hashira who would not be as… forgiving, so long as you bear that mark. If Rengoku has led you to believe he has no enemies, then he’s as much of a liar as I remember."

With that, he slipped back into the waves, the dark water swallowing him until there was nothing left but silence.

I stood there, reeling. His words echoed in my mind, unsettling and sharp.

A liar? Kyojuro? No… that can’t be right. Kyojuro may be fierce, even terrifying to some, but he’s also warm, compassionate, and always so… open. Sure, he has his intense side, his possessive moments, but a liar? He’s never seemed anything but honest, at least with me. Or so I’d thought.

I glanced down at my wrist, the fresh marks from his tentacles still vivid. I had to play this off right, I was soaked, freezing, and shaken after encountering Tomioka, so it wouldn’t be hard to look convincing. I hurried back to camp.

“Tamayo! Yushiro!” I called out, rushing toward the fire where they were sleeping.

Yushiro grumbled, half-asleep, while Tamayo sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. "What’s going on, Y/N?" she asked, her voice still groggy.

I knelt down in front of her, catching my breath, and held up my wrist. Tamayo’s eyes widened as she took in the marks, my drenched clothes, and my shivering frame. She reached for my hand, her smile growing with every detail.

Yushiro finally woke up, blinking in surprise as he noticed the marks on my wrist. Shock and disbelief crossed his face.

Tamayo quickly ushered me into the tent. “Come now, let’s get you warmed up and take a closer look at these!”

Inside, she helped me out of my soaked clothes and handed me a dry blanket. She lit a lantern, inspecting the marks on my wrist and leg while scribbling excitedly in her notebook.

“Did he speak to you? Why did he grab you? Was he angry?” she asked, her questions coming rapid-fire.

I explained that I’d gone for a walk because I couldn’t sleep and had wandered too close to the sea. “I think… he may have thought I was prey or something,” I added, as casually as I could manage.

Tamayo nodded, jotting down every word with satisfaction, pausing only for a few follow up questions. Seeing her so pleased was a relief. After all the times I’d come back empty handed, I’d finally managed to make her happy. That, at least, felt like a victory.

——————-

The hike back felt just as awful and exhausting as the one coming in. Our journey home took nearly as long as our initial trek, with the weight of the distance settling heavily on my shoulders. Tamayo was eager to return and report her findings, while I couldn’t shake the anticipation of finally seeing Kyojuro. I missed him, more than I cared to admit, but there were now new questions I needed answered.

When we finally reached the cabin, we were greeted by a few of the other hunters. I helped Tamayo and Yushiro unload, my mind already drifting to the promise I made to Kyojuro. Food offerings. I couldn’t come back empty handed. he’d make such a fuss if I did. And the last thing I needed was for him to get all upset and pouty.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I finished helping and excused myself to the kitchen. I carefully prepared the offerings, making sure to include all his favorites. My heart raced a little as I arranged them, the thought of him looming over every movement.

Surely he would be pleased with these. I was gone what? Around a week two weeks total? That’s quite a while, but I got his permission, so he can’t be too angry with me.

As I slipped quietly back into the woods, I glanced down at my wrist. The marks from Tomioka's tentacles had faded, but they were still visible, a subtle reminder of what had passed. Of course, Kyojuro would notice them. He had a knack for being... dramatic when it came to anything remotely concerning me. I could trip and scrape my knee, and he’d insist on us cuddling for what felt like hours, as if that alone would make everything better.

Am I complaining? Maybe a little. But, deep down, I know I shouldn’t. After all, at least he wasn’t a heartless monster.

The forest path seemed to stretch on forever as I made my way back to the den. But the moment I stepped inside, the familiar clicking began. Slowly, Kyojuro emerged from the shadows, his crimson eyes glowing in the dark, a sharp, predatory smile spreading across his face. I set down the food I was holding, and smile at him happily.

"My little human, my mate! You’ve returned!" His voice rumbled with delight, and before I could react, his tail wrapped tightly around my waist, pulling me in close.

He sniffed eagerly, his nose brushing against my chest before he nuzzled into me, demanding affection. And, of course, I gave in, my fingers running through his fur as he purred loudly, tail tightening possessively around me.

"You smell like the ocean," he growled lowly, his voice thick with something primal. The intensity of his gaze never wavered as he held me in his embrace.

I could feel the warmth of his body radiating through the layers of my clothing, the undeniable presence of him filling the space around us. His scent, a mixture of fire and earth, was comforting in its own way, grounding me after the long journey. But the ocean, he couldn’t stand the trace of salt and waves that clung to me after my time with Giyu.

"You know," I murmured, my fingers still tracing the curve of his tail, "it’s not like I went swimming in the ocean. Just a little... coastal air."

His growl deepened, almost playful now, as if he didn’t quite believe me. "Coastal air, hm?" His eyes gleamed in the dim light, as though he could smell the exact essence of what had happened, and every part of him was keenly aware of it. His grip on me tightened, but not in anger, more like a quiet claim, a silent assertion that I was his, no matter where I’d been.

Kyojuro pulled back slightly, his gaze still locked on me as he gave a slow, exaggerated sniff of the air. “I can still smell him.” His voice was steady, but the tension in his tone was unmistakable.

I sighed inwardly, but I didn’t try to pull away. “Kyojuro... it’s not like that. Tomioka just—”

“Tomioka,” he interrupted, his voice turning sharper, though his hands were gentle as he cupped my face. “I see he hasn’t the common decency to not touch what not his.” His gaze shifts down to my wrist, though there was a flicker of possessiveness beneath the surface. “But you’re mine. Always.”

There it was again, that crazy intensity. That overwhelming, fierce loyalty that I both feared and craved. The way he could consume every thought, every moment, with just a glance. I tried to breathe past the lump in my throat, but the reality of his words settled over me, heavy and consuming.

“I’m yours,” I whispered, not even needing to say it to reassure him, but more to remind myself.

His sharp smile returned, his tail loosening its grip just enough to allow me to breathe fully again. “Good,” he purred, the possessiveness in his voice morphing into something deeper, more intimate. “Because I don’t share.”

Oh fuck…how did that sentence send shivers down my spine?

He leaned in, his face so close to mine, and I couldn’t help it, my hands slid over the fur on his shoulders, drawing him closer. His growl deepened as his tongue flicked over my bottom lip, his teeth grazing over the skin, sending sparks through me. And when he finally sealed our lips together, I melted into the kiss. It was fierce, possessive, overwhelming... all the things he was and more.

I had missed this, these moments of pure abandon. He knew exactly what to do to make me moan, what to make me lose myself in the moment. And by the time we broke apart, I was breathless and trembling, my core aching with need.

"Did you miss me?" he asked, the low echo in his voice was smooth and low, his tone already turning dark and filthy. "Is my mate craving something?" His voice rumbled through the air.

And fuck, I couldn't lie, i didn’t want to just give in so quickly, I wanted to pretend that I hadn't missed him this much, that I didn't want him. But I did, oh God how I did.

“Yes,” I admitted, barely above a whisper. “I want you, Kyojuro.”

He let out a low growl, a purr rumbling through his chest. “Good human,” he murmured against my neck now, his claws already moving to my pants. “You know how I feel about these obnoxious clothes you wear…. Take them off.” He didn’t wait for my answer, his mouth trailing down my neck, nipping and biting at my skin, making my heart beat fast.

"Take off your clothes now," he demanded again, his sharp claws pulled at my pants as I fumbled to untie them. "And let me see you." The command in his voice sent shivers down my body.

I did as he asked, shedding the rest of my clothes until I was completely naked in front of him. He stepped back and let out a sharp growl of approval before his clawed fingers ran up my thighs, my ass. And he finally wrapped his whole hand around my waist.

His touch burned over my skin, searing in its intensity. My breath caught as he firmly held me, pulling me closer until the heat of his cock pressed against me. The softness of his fur rubbed against me, making my skin tingle. I shivered in his arms, my pulse racing as his hands and tail explored my body. But he was too skilled, too attuned to my needs. It didn’t take long for me to find myself writhing in his grasp, aching for him.

"Please," I whispered. "Kyojuro, please—"

He stilled, and for a moment, I thought he’d just keep teasing me. Then he leaned in, nipping at my ear with a low growl.

“Look at that,” he breathed, his voice rough and thick with need. “My little human, desperate for my cock.” His tail wrapped around my thigh, lifting me up and positioning me just where he wanted. “Don’t worry, my mate, I’ll make it feel so good. I'll fill you with my seed until you're full of my scent. No more salt and ocean. Just me.” And with that, he thrust his thick cock into me roughly, making me cry out in surprise.

His girth stretched me so wide it hurt. He was merciless, holding me up and pounding me hard, my body struggling to accommodate him due to our time apart. My breasts bounced with each thrust, and the sound of my wetness echoed around the den, it was both humiliating and arousing.

"You’re so wet," he rumbled, his breath hot against my ear. "You love this, don’t you? My little human missed me." He nipped at my ear, his tongue running over the lobe. "Taking my cock. Being mine. You’ll never be full of any other’s scent. Not when you’re my mate.” His hands tightened, gripping me so hard, there would no doubt be bruises later.

He didn’t let me reply, his lips claiming mine as he fucked me. My mind blurred, my body consumed by the pleasure. He wasn’t gentle, not this time, and I loved him for it. He fucked me hard and rough, using my body for his pleasure. But he also knew every spot to hit, every spot that would send me over the edge.

“I wanted to be gentle with you,” he growled between thrusts. “But after not seeing you for so long, I just can’t hold back.”

The click of his voice vibrated against my skin.

And the orgasm, oh God, it built quick. There was no slowing it down, no stopping it, as it crested and crashed through me, leaving me screaming into the darkness. He didn’t stop fucking me though, not until I'd come multiple times on his cock.

Finally, when I couldn’t take it anymore and my body trembled from exhaustion, he pulled out. His tail released its hold on me, letting me slide down to my knees, where I fell onto the soft ground, my legs weak.

He stood over me, panting softly, his cock still hard. His eyes gleamed as they roved over my body before he leaned over me and gripped my hips, forcing me onto my fours.

“I know you are tired beautiful human… but I’m afraid I’m not satisfied.” His tail wrapped around my ankle and pulled my legs apart.

I could hear his low chuckle as I tried to catch my breath. “This hole has never been used before…” I felt his tongue lick up my ass. My eyes widen and my body shivered. No way… he was not about to— “It looks so good all pink and wet.” I moaned as he lapped at my rim. “You want me here?” he asked with a chuckle.

"Kyojuro," I gasped, my breath coming short. "No...please, you can’t."

His laughter only deepened, his large hands spreading my cheeks roughly apart. “It’s not for my own pleasure. My mate needs to be fully claimed by me. You smell like ocean, so it must be done,” he said as he pressed his tongue against my rim, teasing it in a way that made me cry out and writhe in his hold.

He kept up that torture for what felt like an age. Licking my ass, his tongue sliding through my cum as he used it to lubricate my rim, sliding it in and out slowly. I squirmed and whimpered, overwhelmed, and his low growls only grew more pleased.

Then, once my rim was nice and stretched out, he finally stood over me again, his cock hovering over my ass. He pushed the tip inside of me, and I cried out, my body trying to clench down.

"It’s okay, my mate," he murmured softly, his voice gentler now. “It’ll sting a bit at first but I’ll take care of you.” His hands stroked my back gently and he slowly pushed his cock deeper inside of me.

I clenched down, trying to stop the pain, but he kept pushing. He stretched my ass out wide with his thickness, filling me so completely I felt I might burst. My whimpers and cries filled the air as I struggled to bare the sensation, even as it was edged with pleasure.

But when he was finally seated fully in my ass, my body gave into the sensation and I moaned, my muscles relaxing.

He let out a deep growl and wrapped his tail around my body, pulling me back against him as he started to move. "This feels amazing," he rasped, he purred, clicking loudly in pleasure.

I felt full and tight, every thrust making me writhe and clench down on his cock, the pleasure mingling with the pain in a way that was maddening. But I didn’t have the ability to think, not while his tail wrapped around my body, holding me in place as he fucked my ass.

He began to move faster, my moans and his growls echoing through the den now. His tail tightened around my waist and his teeth sunk into my neck. I felt him grow thicker inside of me and then I felt him fill my ass with his seed.

"Fuck! It’s so warm and wet..." he growled, his moans growing more desperate as he kept emptying his cum inside of me. The sound of it dripping out of my ass filled the den. I felt his knot expand keeping what could be contained inside of me. I tried to clench down but he held my body still as he continued to come. I moaned and wiggled in his grasp.

"You’re mine," he growled deeply. "I can’t share you with anyone."

And with that, he held me there, his cock still buried deep in my ass, until his knot finally released and he collapsed next to me on the ground. I was exhausted from his fucking, and my body ached in the most delicious way.

He pulled out of my ass, making me gasp as his cum only spilled out of me more. He wrapped me in his tail and nuzzled his face in my neck.

"Sleep little human," he growled softly. "I’ll take good care of you, always."

I felt him pick me up, carrying me to our nest. He laid me down and wrapped around me, holding me securely. This was the warmth I had missed. Despite my body being so sore and exhausted, I was completely blissed out.

I fell into a deep sleep knowing I was safe, knowing I was loved, and knowing he’d always protect me. And the ocean would no longer be a problem. Not after Kyojuro had me all to himself. I smiled, snuggling in his arms.

————————

When I finally awoke, it was to him licking my neck. "Good morning, my little human," he purred. His claws slid through my hair.

I rub my eyes opening them slightly to adjust to the light. The sun had risen, and its warmth filtered through the trees.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, his voice a soft rumble.

"Yeah," I answered, still groggy. "How long have you been awake?"

"A while," he chuckled. "I wanted to make sure you got enough rest." I sighed, feeling relaxed and content. But as I shifted, a dull ache throbbed through me.

"Your body will be sore for a few days," he said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "You took me so well. It makes me proud to have such a good mate."

"Thanks," I mumbled. "I guess."

"Are you hungry?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah, a little," I said, stretching.

Kyojuro’s eyes gleamed, his tail curling around my leg possessively as he shifted to sit up, still keeping me close. “Good. I’ll catch us something fresh,” he said, the hint of a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “But don’t you move a muscle. Rest those sore limbs. I’ll be back in no time.”

I watched him rise, his form lit by the morning sun as he stretched, flexing his muscles with a lazy confidence. “What about the offerings I made you, we could just eat those.” I suggest.

He chuckled lowly and shook his head. “As much as I love you my mate. You made those offerings for me. And if there’s one thing I won’t share with you… it’s the gifts you bring me.” He smiled playfully his tail wagging almost like a dog.

He gave me one last intense look, as if memorizing every detail before he turned, disappearing into the woods.

Left alone, I sank back into our nest, feeling the lingering warmth he’d left behind. My body was sore, as he’d warned, but there was something comforting about the ache, a reminder of just how much we’d missed each other. The birds were chirping, and a soft breeze drifted through the trees, rustling the leaves. I closed my eyes, letting myself be lulled by the forest’s quiet rhythm, still wrapped in the warmth of last night’s memory.

Before long, the sound of Kyojuro’s footsteps drew closer. I opened my eyes as he emerged from the shadows, carrying fresh game in one hand, his eyes bright and eager. He set it down, then moved over to sit beside me again, his tail flicking with satisfaction. “Told you I’d be quick,” he said, as he leaned in to brush a stray strand of hair from my face.

“Impressive,” I murmured, smiling up at him.

He tilted his head, amber eyes softening as he took me in. “Impressive is having you back in my arms,” he murmured, voice lowering. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you here.”

The intensity in his gaze sent a familiar flutter through me, that possessive spark still so alive and undeniable. And as I reached out to touch his hand, I knew the same warmth would pull me back, over and over again.

Kyojuro held both my hands in one of his as if they were the most fragile things ever, a completely contrast to the night before. He raised my hands to his face nuzzling against him, brushing a warm kiss across my knuckles. “I want you to feel safe, always,” he murmured, the conviction in his voice sending a shiver down my spine.

I squeezed his hand, taking in the steady heat of him, grounding me in the moment. “With you, I do,” I whispered. “It’s like… nothing could ever hurt me here.”

He smiled, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. “That’s how it should be.” Then, with a playful tilt of his head, he added, “But I might need to remind you every now and then, just to be sure.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “Always so protective.”

“Of course,” he replied, a low rumble in his chest. “I’d fight the every monster in the world if they tried to take you from me.” He leaned in closer, his gaze unyielding. “You’re mine.”

The intensity in his voice stirred something deep inside me, a thrill mixed with reassurance. “And you’re mine,” I replied, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw, feeling the strength in his muscles as he leaned into my touch. “No one else, nothing else matters.”

His eyes softened, the fire in them shifting to something warm and tender. “Good,” he whispered, then bent down to press a lingering kiss against my forehead. “Now,” he said, his voice lighter, “how about some food? You’ll need your strength if we’re going to spend the day together.”

“Sounds perfect,” I replied, feeling a renewed warmth spreading through me.

I prepared the food over a small fire with practiced ease, never straying too far, as if I couldn’t bear to be away. And as we shared the meal, surrounded by the gentle sounds of the forest, I felt something settle within me—a deep, unshakeable peace, knowing I was exactly where I was meant to be.

The first few days back at Kyojuro’s den going back and forth like I usually did. The days were a whirlwind of passion and comfort. We spent hours exploring each other’s bodies, the weeks of separation making every touch feel new and electric. His fur was just as soft as I remembered, his eyes just as intense. And the way he’d hold me at night, his tail coiled around me, made me feel like I was home.

I knew I had to talk to him about Tomioka. I wanted to know the history between them. Tomioka said kyojuro had enemies, that he was a liar. And that part genuinely unsettled me. No matter how hard I tried to push it down.

The thought gnawed at me, even in moments of warmth and ease, like a shadow lurking just beyond the firelight. I had questions, and I needed answers.

One evening, as we lay entwined in our nest, his breathing slow and steady beside me, I finally gathered the courage. I shifted slightly, just enough for him to sense I was awake. He glanced down, eyes gleaming with that familiar, protective warmth, his arms wrapping tighter around me.

“Kyojuro,” I began, voice barely above a whisper. “Can we talk?”

“Of course,” he murmured, his expression softening. “Anything, my mate.”

I hesitated, searching his gaze, feeling the weight of the words I was about to say. “When I was with Tomioka… he mentioned things. He spoke of enemies you might have. That there were… conflicts, even lies.” My voice faltered as his eyes grew darker, the warmth in them receding.

He held my gaze for a long, tense moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sighed, a sound filled with something I couldn’t quite name, was it regret? Resignation? “Giyu…” He spoke his name like a wound he was trying to close. “He’s not wrong, not entirely. There are… old tensions among us, unspoken alliances and rivalries. The Hashira, we each walk our own path. Sometimes, those paths cross in ways that are less than ideal.”

I felt a chill, like a draft sneaking into the den. “And what about the lies?” I asked, unable to mask the tremor in my voice.

He closed his eyes briefly, his clawed thumb brushing my cheek in slow, soothing strokes. “There are things I’ve kept from you, yes, but not out of deception. I wanted you to feel safe here with me, untouched by the struggles I face.”

“But I need to know, Kyojuro,” I pressed, the urgency rising in my voice. “If there are things out there that could put us in danger, if there are people who’d come after you, don’t I deserve to know?”

A spark of pain flickered in his eyes, and he nodded, a reluctant acceptance settling over him. “Yes. You deserve to know everything.” He paused, his voice taking on a new gravity. “There are other Hashira who don’t agree with my… my methods, or the way I’ve have chosen to live my life. They see it as a corrupt, and wrong. Giyu is cautious, wary. He wanted to warn you, perhaps hoping you’d run away.”

The words struck me harder than I’d expected, and I found myself reaching for his hand, squeezing it tightly. “I’m not running away. No matter what.”

He smiled, the slightest edge of vulnerability showing in his fierce gaze. “I know you wouldn’t.” His clawed fingers traced my palm, lingering there, as if trying to reassure himself of my presence. “But if Giyu or anyone else threatens what we have… I won’t hesitate to protect you. Even if it means facing my past and the ones I once called allies.”

We fell silent, the weight of his confession settling between us, mingling with the night air. It was a silence heavy with truth, with the understanding that we were bound by forces beyond ourselves.

As he pulled me close, nuzzling against the top of my head, I felt the strength of his vow in every touch, every breath. And while uncertainty lingered, so too did an unbreakable trust, a quiet promise that, no matter the challenges, we would face them together.

The night deepened, a stillness settling over us that carried both comfort and an edge of unease. Kyojuro’s warmth enveloped me, his breath steady against my skin, and for a while, we lay in silence, just listening to each other’s heartbeats. I wanted to let go of my worries, to lose myself in the safety of his embrace, but Tomioka’s words still echoed in my mind, a reminder that nothing was as simple as I’d once thought.

As if sensing my thoughts, Kyojuro tightened his hold, his hand holding my back. “There’s more to it than even Giyu understands,” he murmured, breaking the silence. “I’ve had to make choices that others wouldn’t, things the other Hashira see as betrayals.”

“Betrayals?” I whispered, unsure if I wanted to know more, yet unable to stop myself from asking.

He nodded, a somber look in his eyes. “Not everyone agrees with the way I protect or take what’s mine. To them, I’m reckless. They don’t understand… that love isn’t a weakness. That it gives me strength.” His eyes softened, that fierce possessiveness tempered by a tenderness that left me breathless. “And that strength is why I’ll always protect you, even if it costs me.”

I reached up, my hand finding his cheek, and he leaned into my touch, his eyes slipping closed. “I don’t want you to give up everything just for me,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want you to be alone in this.”

“You’re here,” he replied, his voice a low rumble, the barest hint of a smile curving his lips. “That’s all I need.”

For a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered, that the forest around us, the Hashira, the threats they posed, all of it faded in the face of what we shared. But even as I held him close, I knew there were things left unsaid, truths lurking beneath the surface.

We spent the next few days in a fragile peace, an unspoken understanding passing between us. Kyojuro was attentive, almost more than usual, as if determined to make up for the tension between us. He brought me fresh food every morning, wrapped me in his warmth each night, and filled the hours between with quiet affection. His hands were always on me, grounding, reassuring, and in those moments, I almost forgot the dark clouds that loomed over us.

But the shadow of Tomioka’s warning still hung in the background, a persistent reminder that there were others out there who didn’t share Kyojuro’s loyalty. And one evening, as I watched him prowl the edge of the den, his gaze sharp and alert, I felt a pang of worry I couldn’t ignore.

“Kyojuro,” I called softly, breaking him from his vigil. He looked over, his eyes immediately softening as they met mine.

“Yes, my mate?” he asked, crossing the distance to sit beside me. His tail curled around me instinctively, pulling me close.

“Do you think… they’ll ever try to hurt us?” I asked, forcing the words out even though my heart clenched at the thought.

His jaw tightened, a shadow flickering across his expression. “I’d be lying if I said some of them wouldn’t try,” he admitted. “But they’d be fools to underestimate what I’d do to keep you safe.” His voice was low, deadly, a reminder of the strength that lay just beneath his warmth.

I nodded, finding comfort in his resolve, but a small part of me couldn’t shake the fear. “And if they come… will you tell me?” I asked, my gaze steady, my voice as firm as I could make it.

He hesitated, his fingers brushing over mine. “I’ll never leave you in the dark again,” he promised, his eyes searching mine with a sincerity that took my breath away. “We’ll face whatever comes together.”

As he pulled me into his arms, his words settled over me like a shield, a reminder that, no matter the dangers, we had each other. And though uncertainty lingered, for the first time, I felt a quiet sense of resolve, a strength that mirrored his, a fierce determination to stand by his side, no matter what.

In that moment, I knew that whatever lay ahead, I was ready.

————————————————————

A/N: I want to say thank you everyone for being so patient with me for this chapter. I haven’t been able to go through all of my in box but the messages and DMs have been nothing but supportive. I’ve never been so grateful to be apart of such a kind and loving community, thank you all so much. Unfortunately life happens and it’s hard to bounce back and continue projects like these but it helps when everyone is so kind.

I also I want to make it clear this blog is a safe space and no hate or cruelty is tolerated, I love all of you. Stay safe and know you are loved and supported🫶🏻

—————————————————————

Tags: @im-0-addicted-0-to-0tea @emmenic726 @fandomenbylover @staygoldsquatchling02 @nicora04

[makorragal-312]

Why the BuckTommy break-up fell flat narratively...

Disclaimer: I am not defending this ship. I hate it and I'm glad it's dead.

1. Prior to the break-up, he made a jab at Abby for dating a guy half her age and riding Buck off as "a himbo." Even though he's literally doing the same exact thing.

That, kids, is what we call "hypocrisy."

2. Tommy said that he "knows how the relationship ends."

Sir, if you know how it ends, why did you go for it in the first place? This just gives off that he was only dating Buck either for a good time or because Eddie wasn't showing any signs of interest, so he just settled for his bestie.

3. Tommy tries to pawn off the catalyst of the relationship ending on Buck, saying that he would "break his heart."

Even though HE was the one doing all the heart-breaking shit to BUCK throughout the entire goddamn relationship.

4. Josh's dumbass advice.

Okay, that's not fair. Josh's advice wasn't dumb per-say, but it was completely irrelevant to Buck's issue. I know that he probably doesn't really know who Tommy is, but making him sound like he was this gay pioneer who led the charge at Stonewall and that his scars should be respected?

Absolute nope.

It ended up making Buck's move-in proposal feel like he was doing it out of obligation because Tommy's been out longer than he has, so why shouldn't he ask him to move in with him?

And on that topic...

5. The return of the hamster wheel

You would think that after dumping Taylor the way he did, Buck would remember that he doesn't necessarily have to hold on to relationships that aren't working and he can just cut it loose, right?

Wrong.

Instead, they have Buck actually take Josh's advice and pull a Taylor 2.0 by asking Tommy to move in with him. This show continues to leave Buck on that fucking hamster wheel instead of letting him get off and it's working my nerve. Even if this was just the show's way of showing that Buck's toxic relationship tendencies don't change because he's with someone of the same sex, it's still redundant and annoying.

6. Buck.

The first and only time Tommy chooses to refer to Buck by his preferred name is when he's dropping him like a baked potato.

And the show never even gave Buck the chance to tell him off about it.

The fucking audacity.

And finally,

7. TOMMY KINARD HIMSELF

This whole scene, the narrative tries to paint Tommy out to be this sympathetic character all throughout, making him look all sad and talking about how "he knew the parking spot was too good to be true" and citing Buck to be the one who would break his heart.

Despite the fact that he literally broke Buck's again just seconds ago.

I'll never understand why the show decided to take this route with Tommy's character for the episode even though in past episodes, he's been canonically depicted to be insensitive at best and flat out bigoted at worse. And throughout the entirety of his and Buck's relationship, he has said and done things that have hurt Buck and he never even apologized for it. And if he did apologize, he gave a lame apology as to why he did do.

*cough* first date *cough cough*

And it definitely doesn't help matters that the show made the active choice not to bring up his past actions within the relationship or for Buck to even know about it. Instead, they made Abby the catalyst for the break up when it could've been Tommy himself being the catalyst.

Obviously, there were a million ways the show could've given the BuckTommy break-up a major impact and there were definitely ways they could've made the break-up solid with the Abby revelation.

All in all, the break-up could've been executed better, but at least the ship is dead.

[s0apmactav1sh]

Gazalex pt2 yayayaya uhm i havent a clue what to say other than eat up ig (this is my apology for disappearing for 2 months i gen have been working through some serious shit and am back on meds)

-You who wakes up with a killer headache and a need to hurl in some random place. The time doesnt register in your mind when you look at the clock and see 2:19pm meaning youve missed your shift but its ok (gaz already rang and told the barista who tipped them off on your whereabouts that you wouldnt be there) stumbling through the house to find a bathroom you eventually find yourself in one bent over the toilet puking your guts up. The familiar taste of whiskey coming back up.

-Gaz and Alex who cant help but grimace at you getting sick in the upstairs bathroom. With alex deciding to head up to you gaz stays down stairs getting some paractemol and asprine ready for you to take when alex coax you down stairs. Clearly not exppecting alex to come upstairs you look down seeing your still wearing clothes that are your own and not theirs (since the clothes you did wear out were some of your best and the old ladies at the church would kill you if they found out you ruined them)

-Alex who has to convince you your not dying when you start acting as if hes a hallucination. There just being awkwardness as he leads you downstairs and into the kitchen. A waft of bacon, eggs amd sausage hitting you right as you step in and your stomach growling over how hungry you are. Gaz being kind enough to hand over the asprine and water so the pounding headache you woke up with could be cured.

-neither of them knowing how to bring up your drunken confession without scaring you out and away from them altogether. But they dont need to because as soon as you realise this wasnt your place it was in fact theirs it all hits you and every drunken word that spilled from your mouth hits you like a ton of bricks. Cue you frantically apologizing and promising that all that was said in the car ride was jusy a bunch of nonsence and that you were just feeling lonely.

-both of them finding some relief in that but also taking note of the small bit of hurt that also hits them. Maybe you didnt like them back and it was silly of them to assume? All three of you standing in the kitchen just staring at one ajother before you give in and make the bold claim that it wasnt nonsense just really sober thoughts in the form of drunk words because you didnt know hoew to tell them any other way.

-your confessin oractically hanging in the air for a few moments before Alex is grinning from cheek to cheek and rushing over to hug you, just glad that their feelings were returned and they didnt seem like idiots for feeling the way they did. Gaz feeling a lot more confused over whether you meant or not but soon that confusion is washed away by Alex pulling him into the hug aswell because why leave him out when theres more than enough room for the three of you to hug

- the next day in work, watching as one of the old ladies grumbles as she hands over a 50 dollar bill on top of the money she already paid for her drink to your coworker who grins cheekily at you. The sight of hickeys covering your entire neck being the tell tale sign that you finally manned up and told them

Theres so much missing from this but i jeed to get back to writing because its been awhile anyways

Smut nect? For this maybe (defo already have a draft in progress for the threesome Reader does top both of them bevause we all know gaz and alexs are bottoms <3)

Time to write gazalex x mreader. Except its shortened cuz tumblr loves eating my drafts. So heres something short and sweet before I disappear of the eart again.

-Gazalex who become the most loved couple in the small town they moved to after retiring from the military and getting married. The two being labelled as the sweetest around by all the old ladies and labelled great help by all the old men aswell.

-You. Who seems to be the only other younger guy around in the town and who just happens to work and own the down town cafe that the two frequent nearly everyday. Of course you gawk at the two of them the moment the enter the door but the little light in your eyes dies as soon as you see the golden wedding bands around each of there fingers.

-Them who become completely infatuated with how sweet and excited you seem to be while behind a bar helping out an old woman who was trying to figure out what to have with her tea. Its obvious to the both of them that your sweet but then the hard part hits them, trying to figure out whether your single or not.

- Them who spends all day trying to find something that had your social media based off of just your name from your name tag. Of course when that goes south they resort to using the cafes name and find a small social media plug that leads them right to your page and of course you barely have anything up other than an old photo from 3 years ago.

- Alex is the one who takes the lead and follows you first seeing if you would follow back and in a matter of minutes you had accepted his follow so Gaz happily followed you afterwards hoping for the same response which he got.

- It didnt take long for all of you to become great friends and then the problems arose of you have feelings for the two of them but ofc with them being married it had your stomach twisting since you didnt want to ruin anything. And so you began avoiding them. Cancelling on plans last minute, avoiding serving them when they came into the cafe and even stopped replying to them when theyd message you.

- Both Gaz and Alex were confused over what was happening. They both liked you and had talked about it but maybe you didnt like them? It wasnt until one of the other baristas at the cafe called them and let them know where you were sulking one evening. An old pub that wasnt too far down. They werent expecting to see a drunk you so soon. Head dropped down with an empty pint glass in front of you.

- Going over to you, they take a seat on either side of you before Alex calls over the bartender and pays your tab so they could get you up and outta there with no other questions. Of course your fairly confused on whos bringing you away but when you see who it is you try moving away from their car not wanting to go with them. Cue you arguing with them outside of the pub gathering the attention of several people who were on going into it or outside it smoking.

- It takes them a few minutes but there able to get you into the car before your drunkingly confessing to the two of them telling them how you feel and how you know they dont feel the same because their already married. And the two just cant help but start laughing, over how a many as fit and fine as yourself would think theyd ever reject you. But then again you were drunk and half passed out.

- Not wanting to disturb your apartment neighbours they brought you back to theirs leading you into the guest bedroom where you feel asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow giving them no time to talk to you. Of course what they would be talking to you about did require you being sober.

Pt 2??

Im in desperate need of sleep. And I have to deal with seeing more family over the next few days so writing will be to the minimum but hoping to come out with pt 2 of traitor au and maybe more smut.

[iamthemaestro]

“I have to get on the manual of arms grind” sentences you will never hear anyone but a reenactor say

[biblicalhorror]

this past weekend I was at a bachelorette party and I was smoking weed with this girl I didn't know very well and she was like "yeah everyone assumes I'm a lesbian because I work in construction and I don't wear makeup" and I was like 🫣 girlie I thought you were a lesbian because you just told me verbatim your type in men is "when they're silent and leave you alone" but it reallyyyyy doesn't seem like you're ready for that conversation yet

[x-rds]

That post about huge red flags from exes is going around and I’m like well mine requires some background reading

[monty-glasses-roxy]

For some reason, this round of meds (same dose and everything as last time) is making me have very violent Realisations and Remembering Things moments. And by that I mean the Thing I Forgot and/or the Realisations show up with a bat and see how hard they can make my brain hit the wall. So anyway.

YOU GUYS REMEMBER SPIKE THE WETFLOOR BOT??? YOU GUYS REMEMBER HER??? THE FIRST FAZBEAR ANIMATRONIC TO BE BORN FROM LOVE INSTEAD OF PAIN??? YOU REMEMBER HER???

CAUSE I JUST DID

[esyra]

After the hospital bombing, I finally heard back from my grandmother and confirmed that several of my relatives were murdered by Israeli bombing. Seven of them, to be precise. Three are still going, including her. We've been talking constantly ever since.

Asked if it was possible to head south, and was told they did but were also bombed there. So they decided to go back home, in Zeitoun. Their home was bombed and they were pulled out of the rumble, then driven by ambulances to the al-Ahli Arab Hospital. There were people in every corner. Gazans sheltering, sleeping on the floor. Gazans dying on the floor, waiting for beds.

Four were declared dead on arrival, three were in need of surgery and other three were just bandaged. Then, a bomb was dropped in the parking lot that made parts of the ceiling collapse, like Dr. Ghassan Abu Sittah reported in that horrific conference/interview. Those in need of surgery died.

By the way, just in case you didn't know: the Church of Saint Porphyrius, the third oldest in history, bombed by Israel a few days back, was located near the hospital.

When looking for new shelter, they saw schools with signs hanging outside, "We can't take any more families." They met families, sympathetic but already sheltering too many people. They're now staying in an apartment building they found empty. Sleeping in the corner of the living room. If the family comes back, they'll apologize and leave.

Told me she was saving her phone battery for when the bombing stopped, and she had to ask for help to rebuilt the neighborhood. But she doesn't think it's gonna stop anymore. The ones still with her are mute most of the time, like they're saving energy, but she feels lonely and wanted to talk. There's no internet and to connect to WhatsApp, people are buying "a card from the supermarket, there's a password and username." Not sure what she meant. Still, the internet is inconsistent and won't load neither videos or images nor pages, so she doesn't know what's happening on the outside world.

Told her there were a lot of people protesting to stop the genocide, she replied, "The bombings are getting worse by the day." The bombing yesterday was the worst she ever witnessed. The entire neighborhood is infested with the smell of death, of decomposing bodies. Bodies are piling up in the streets and she's not sure if it's because they ran out of places to store them, but most of them are in bags. The smoke of the bombings hide the blue sky—she hasn't seen the clouds for a while.

Asked if I could share their pictures, names and dreams with people and was told, of which I partly agree, "they're not entertainment." If anyone genuinely cared, they would be alive—I'd argue there are people who do care, but I'm not gonna lecture her pain. And they don't deserve to be used to fulfill someone's sick fantasy. Told me to remember what some Israelis do with pictures of dead Palestinians. And I do.

For those of you who are not familiar, many times before settlers got together to celebrate the murder of Palestinians. For one, in 2015, Israeli settlers set a house in Duma, West Bank on fire. An 18-month old baby, Ali Dawbsheh, was burnt alive. Both parents later died of wounds and only a 5-year-old, Ahmad, survived, although severely injured.

Two celebrations of their murder are widely known, one at a wedding and others outside the court in which two were indicted for the terrorist attack. In the wedding, guests stabbed a photo of the toddler, Ali, while others waved guns, knives and Molotov cocktails. Israel's Minister of National Security, Itamar Ben-Gvir, was present.

That's what happens in an apartheid. Palestinians are so abused by authorities that their "innocent civilians" come to accept the brutality as necessary or are desensitized by our suffering. After all, it's been 75 years—get used to it!

So I won't risk the image of my loved ones, in fear they are used in these kinds of depravity. I will say, though, the world lost a young footballer. Lost a female writer and an aspiring ballerina. Lost a kind father, who was also a great cook, and a loving mother that enjoyed sewing and other types of handicraft art. Lost a math teacher and a child that wanted to become one.

People think Israel is testing new weapons on them. There's civilians arriving at the hospital with severe burns, which they thought was from white phosphorus, but apparently the pattern is different from the one caused by white phosphorus. It's widely believed Israel tests weapons in Palestinians.

Jeff Halper, author of War Against the People, a book on Israel's arms and surveillance technology industries, said: "Israel has kept the occupation because it's a laboratory for weapons."

They've ran out of drinkable water and the "aid" Biden sent was only for the South of Gaza and no fuel, for hospitals, was allowed in. Many shelves in the supermarket are empty. She said many are convinced that if they don't die from the bombing, they'll die from starvation or dehydration, or whatever disease will develop from the dirty water they're drinking.

Told me all people do now is pray, cry and die. Told me she hopes West Bank is spared. Told her Israel bombed a mosque in West Bank and dozens of Palestinians in West Bank are being murdered by settlers, so she bided me goodbye.

[reasonsforhope]

Kamala Harris just announced that her vice president will be Minnesota governor Tim Walz. Based on the coverage so far I'm really reassured by this decision.

The Washington Post did an obviously great job of making a prepared article for each option, considering how long an article they had up 7 minutes after the announcement.

((Okay technically it's not an official announcement yet it's "according to three people familiar with the pick, who spoke on the condition of anonymity to discuss a decision that is not yet public." But listen. I am 99% sure this is a weather balloon. (Meaning: a deliberate leak to gauge reaction.) Because the sheer weakness or incompetence on the part of the Harris campaign that it would take for three people to all confirm that within a few hours hours of each other and the planned announcement it is massive.))

-via The Washington Post, August 6, 2024

Honestly this decision, from everything I've read and can tell, looks like it's brilliant politics.

Important Context: The vice president(ial candidates)'s job in an election is not to be similar to the president. The vice president's job on the ballot is very, very much specifically to be different from the president. Why? So they can cover each others' weaknesses. Especially regionally.

(Sidenote: I feel a bit ridiculous saying this. But genuinely if you want to get a stronger understanding of how US elections really work. Go watch seasons 6 and 7 of The West Wing. Genuinely, a lot of politicians have said - especially back in its day - that that was the most accurate depiction of an election they'd ever seen. Also specifically features an entire arc about a contested Democratic primary convention, so also very good if you're interested in understanding weird nominating convention shenanigans.)

From the article:

"Harris’s choice for a running mate was among the most closely watched decisions of her fledgling campaign, as she sought to bolster the ticket’s prospects for victory in November and rapidly find someone who could be a governing partner. In picking Walz, she has selected a seasoned politician with executive governing experience and signaled the importance of Midwestern battleground states such as Wisconsin and Michigan.

Walz’s foray into politics came later in life: He spent more than two decades as a public school teacher and football coach, and as a member of the Army National Guard, before running for Congress in his 40s. In 2006, he defeated a Republican to win Minnesota’s 1st Congressional District--a rural, conservative area--and won reelection five times before leaving Congress to run for governor.

Walz was first elected governor in 2018 and handily won reelection in 2022. Though little-known outside his state, Walz emerged publicly as one of the earliest names mentioned as a possible running mate for Harris, and in the ensuing days he made the rounds on television as an outspoken surrogate for the vice president...

“These are weird people on the other side. They want to take books away, they want to be in your exam room. … They are bad on foreign policy, they are bad on the environment, they certainly have no health care plan, and they keep talking about the middle-class,” Walz told MSNBC in July. “As I said, a robber baron real estate guy and a venture capitalist trying to tell us they understand who we are? They don’t know who we are.”

Walz also has faced criticism from Republicans that his policies as governor were too liberal, including legalizing recreational marijuana for adults, protecting abortion rights, expanding LGBTQ protections, implementing tuition-free college for low-income Minnesotans and providing free breakfast and lunch for schoolchildren in the state.

But many of those initiatives are broadly popular. Walz also signed an executive order removing the college-degree requirement for 75 percent of Minnesota’s state jobs, a move that garnered bipartisan support and that several other states have also adopted.

“What a monster. Kids are eating and having full bellies, so they can go learn, and women are making their own health-care decisions,” Walz said sarcastically in a July 28 interview with CNN when questioned whether such policies would be fodder for conservative attacks, later adding: “If that’s where they want to label me, I’m more than happy to take the [liberal] label.”

Walz also spoke at a kickoff event in St. Paul for a Democratic canvassing effort, casting Trump as a “bully.”

“Don’t lift these guys up like they’re some kind of heroes. Everybody in this room knows--I know it as a teacher--a bully has no self-confidence. A bully has no strength. They have nothing,” Walz said at the event, sporting a camouflage hunting hat and T-shirt.

Walz has explained that he felt some Democrats’ practice of calling Trump an existential threat to democracy was giving him too much credit, which prompted his decision to denounce the GOP nominee instead as being “weird.”

“I do believe all those things are a real possibility, but it gives him way too much power," Walz said on CNN’s “State of the Union” regarding the Democrats’ rhetoric. “Listen to the guy. He’s talking about Hannibal Lecter, shocking sharks, and just whatever crazy thing pops into his mind.”

If Walz is elected vice president, under state law, Minnesota Lt. Gov. Peggy Flanagan (D) would assume the governorship for the rest of his term. Minnesota Senate president Bobby Joe Champion, a Democrat, would become lieutenant governor."

-via The Washington Post, August 6, 2024

--

This guy. Sounds like. fucking Moderate swing-state/rural/Midwestern/southern/"heartland"/working class white voter catnip. He sounds like he's also a very smart politician and strong campaigner. And he's apparently genuinely a good guy with a good record, too.

He sounds like he's going to do a really good job of appealing to voters in several of the big deal swing states without being from any of them specifically. Which means it doesn't feel like pandering to one of the states involved (and thereby spurning the others), which is also great.

(Also he was the one who started "weird" @ conservatives and I think we should take that seriously as a very good political instinct/move. Judging in large part by how it has so clearly hit an actual nerve with conservatives like so little else. Also hugely relevant: that post going around about how part of why conservatives are so upset about "weird" is because in the Midwest, "weird" specifically also implies anti-social or harmful behavior.)

Officially feeling more optimistic about Trump not winning in November

[nochepsicodelica]

Toji who got really drunk after a misunderstanding you left him to ponder upon one morning when you left for work. You missed a part of your routinely goodbye to him and at first it didn't bother him. He understood that you were running late, but once he started chugging the cold drinks and he sat with the sentiment, he realized it did strike him.

He hated the entire process of getting drunk, hated that drinking was unbearable unless it was chased with sweet kisses from you, but there he was, downing bottle after bottle. He was starting to feel liquid full but even in this intoxicated state he didn't want to put down the bottles. At some point he starting feeling uncomfortable being by himself and didn't want to feel that way anymore, so he called and texted you. Multiple times. You finally picked up after the eighth call.

-Hi, baby! Sorry, I missed your calls. I just left work and i'm heading home.-

-Baby? Who are you calling baby?- He scoffs, a roll of his eyes following.

-You... Toji. It's you. Who else would I be calling baby?-

-Honestly, I...- He laughs, the sound not coming off as one of joy with the next words he speaks. -I didn't think you even loved me enough to give me stupid pet names. I feel very unloved by you and... mhm, just want you to know that.-

Now, that's just entirely untrue and it hurts to hear. You prove your love for him every day. What is this sudden false claim against you?

-Toji, love, what are you saying? I'm coming home, already. Maybe we should talk in person. This is hard to discuss over the phone.-

-Uh-huh, you do that.- He sighs, heavily, his eyes lidding with sluggishness. -Can't win a verbal argument, s-so you're gonna come over here and try to seduce me with your pretty face. I'm just gonna say no when you try to touch me. Just no.-

-I'll see you in a bit, Toji.- you say, before abruptly hanging up.

He sounded off. You knew something was up the second you saw his eight missed calls and a stack of messages just saying 'hey'.

Your keys jingled as you pulled them out of your bag to unlock the front door. The house was steady, no sign of Toji watching TV in the living room or of the shower running. You walked further in, calling his name. It was kind of eery walking through your silent house. You also knew of Toji's tendency of scaring you, so you were on guard for that as you paced around the house. You had one more room to check and it was the bedroom. You dragged your feet over to the room, knocking when you noticed the door was closed. There was no answer after two more knocks so you just opened the door.

The sound startled Toji who was lying against the headboard of the bed, almost falling asleep. The second he saw you his demeanor changed. He perked up like a dog when their owner comes home, before melting back to the stoic state he had been sitting in.

"Hey," you say, almost tentatively, as you walk towards your shared bed, sitting down on the edge. You're met with an acknowledging hum of a response. "What's wrong, baby?"

"There you go calling me baby again. Baby is for people who love each other, so stop it."

You look over the bed, spotting the evidence that led to the bite in his attitude towards you— those bottles that spill the remaining drops of their content and Toji's backwash onto the bed, making the sheets reek of alcohol.

"Well, I love you, so no, i'm not gonna stop calling you baby."

He crosses his arms over his chest, huffing like a child. "That so? It didn't seem that way this morning. I've never felt so forgotten about by you."

"I told you I was gonna be late for work, but you insisted on keeping me trapped beneath you. Bring that part to light, handsome." You can see the corners of his lips twitching. He's holding back the most wicked smirk at the short burst of memories from the morning. "Plus, I still gave you your goodbye kiss, so what are you on about?"

"You didn't say 'I love you'. That's part of goodbye with you, so you can't blame me for feeling this way." His eyes express something of hurt. Maybe it's enhanced by the drinks he had, but you can't leave him that way.

"You're loved, baby. Very much so. Me not saying it this one time doesn't diminish the actual feeling." He's been reduced to a cub over this, so as his lover, you step in to mend the feelings that were grazed.

"Can you..." he rasps, patting his thigh, signaling for you to sit. You drag yourself towards him, and plop yourself onto his lap. You can smell the alcohol on his breath as he rambles on about how you can't forget to say 'I love you' to him ever again, even if it's a blurted, rushed one that he doesn't get a chance to respond to as you rush out the door.

The look he reserves for you is entirely soft, his hands are hot against your clothed back as they feel the warm body he's missed for hours. "I still..." he pauses to sigh, tiredness imbued into the sound. "Still want you to call me baby," he starts again. "I was just bummed. Don't stop calling me baby. Don't ever do that." He's letting his hands roam all over you. Your back, your waist, your hips—everything.

"Are you gonna let me touch you or are you gonna say 'no'?" You grin, remembering his words, verbatim, just incase he tries to tell you he never said them.

"Why aren't you touching me? Why would I not want you to touch me?" He looks insulted by the question and you have half a mind to remind him of what he said to you on the phone, but the heat in his eyes dies out as quickly as it appeared. "Really need a hug, mama. Please, hug," he says, the last part muffled by your chest as he keeps his face buried into it.

You held him tight and murmured 'I love you' countless times, while he hummed in response and groaned quietly as you ran your fingers through his hair.

[notw1ththatatt1tude]

Saw a post "It's hard to care about a rap war when there's a real one going on," which is totally fair.

But I want y'all to understand the potential impact of what Kendrick is doing. He waited until he got people drawn into the gossip to flip from normal rap battle stuff to an indictment of the entire OVO Sound studio for sex trafficking. He's not baselessly making this shit up, Baka was formally charged with "human trafficking and procuring for prostitution" (trafficking charges were dropped because the victim fled the city before testifying, but he was convicted of assulting her anyway) and then signed by Drake at OVO immediately after getting out of prison.

We all know how this shit goes. Witnesses are intimidated or killed and the whole thing gets brushed under the rug. Drake was summoned to a deposition for the murder of XXXTentacion (who tweeted "if someone kills me, Drake did it" shortly before his assassination) and got away with just not showing up because that's how much fucking money he has.

This is a big deal because Kendrick Lamar is too high-profile a whistleblower to kill.

Edit: It was an Instagram story, not a tweet. Exact words were: "if anyone tries to kill me it was @champagnepapi I'm snitching rn."