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ghouljams · 5 months

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your post about Gaz's chronic pain reminds me about my spouse and our friends who are military veterans and the kind of chronic pain they all cope with. Like if the military is good at anything it's good at creating disabilities. My spouse has chronic back pain from falling off jets on multiple different occasions, I can only imagine what kind of pain poor Gaz deals with falling from Helicopters and stuff.

Honestly I'd be more shocked if they all didn't have some sort of injury they've learned to cope with. Like Soap being partially deaf in one ear because of an explosion he messed up on. Or Ghost dealing with shooting nerve pain because a particularly nasty scar got pulled wrong while he was stretching or moving too quickly.

-Hot mess rambler Anon

Yes yes yes yes yes 141 with Chronic injuries they're lying about to medical staff.

Gaz absolutely has joint pain from falling out of a helo. You can't tell me that hanging from that rope didn't fuck up his back a little. Didn't give him an inner ear problem that makes him nauseous at high altitudes. He absolutely is hurting when there's bit pressure changes, downing a few aspirin at breakfast just to cope with the day's exercises. Strikes me as a very "suffer in silence" sort of soldier. Maybe complains to Soap about his back hurting.

Soap definitely has a good ear, caught too many explosions in the side of the head to have everything fully functional. It's not bad enough to take him out of the line of duty so he doesn't say anything. Price makes sure to stand on his good side when he gives orders. The 141 learns BSL and excuses it as field practical. I think he has some nerve damage in his fingers from shocking himself, snipping himself on wires, just the wear and tear of working in demo. It's not anything he needs to report except when he gets a tremor and swears at his hand until it stops.

Ghost catches the worst of it. Definitely nerve damage, the kind that makes it hard to move on bad days, that sort of twinges on good days. He's got a menagerie of chronic injuries. Joint pain, muscle pain, scar tissue in his lung, sticky ribs. But it's the mental wounds that are worse: he can't stand flashing lights, has nonverbal episodes, is bad in crowds. Other things too, I think he has a nervous stomach, I think he has texture issues and certain smells that trigger him. He can't break his routine or he- He just can't break his routine, it's very important that he doesn't break his routine.

Price too has injuries. His knees aren't what they used to be, his smoking is starting to catch up to him, some days he's thankful for desk work. He's dislocated his shoulder too many times and sometimes it sticks wrong and he gets pain for hours. Very grit your teeth and bear it for himself, but if any of his boys complain he puts them on bed rest. Similar to Soap I think he has some hearing loss, bombs and bullets will do that to you. You'll never catch him in medical, not unless he's dragged there barely conscious.

#ghoul speaks #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley cod #ghost cod #captain john price #john price mw2 #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #kyle garrick mw2 #kyle gaz garrick #gaz mw2 #injury tw #yeah I think they're all a little fucked up medically speaking

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azsazz · 8 months

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Come Again?

Ruhn Danaan x Reader

Summary: One-liner request from @writingsbychlo: “do you have any idea how to use that? do you even know what you’re holding?!”

Also for the anons who requested: "Omg please write more for Ruhn, our crescent city men are so underrated in this fandom! I love the crescent city modern world! I would love to see Ruhn using a toy on the reader maybe?? I don’t know if that’s in your comfort zone and if it isn’t I’m sorry but it’s been giving me brain rot 😭 I absolutely love your writing!" and "Ik you said you didn’t have anymore ideas for Ruhn, but…..Rhun with a vibrator that’s all I’m gonna say"

Warnings: Smut, vibrator

Word Count: 1,974

Notes: Fulfilling lots of requests with this one. 😉

_________________________________________

“Do you have any idea how to use that?” You tease, not at all embarrassed at the sight of your mate holding the toy you’d left out from last night. “Do you even know what you’re holding?!”

Ruhn examines the pink bullet in his hands curiously. It’s almost a mocking manner, how he twists it left and right, like he’s trying dramatically to make sense of the toy to pull a smile from you. It’s not even as long as one of his fingers, he notes, mouth flattening sourly. It means to him that you don’t get off on how large he is, if something this small can make you cum just as well as he can.

What’s stopping you from leaving him, if you’re satisfied with this?

“You don’t need me anymore, I see,” he bares his teeth a little, jealous of the vibrator he’s holding in his hand. While it nowhere near compares to the cock that’s lengthening in his pants, he pictures instead you using the toy on yourself. Ruhn wonders if the things the vibrator does draws the same noises you do for him.

You roll your eyes in response, stretching your body long across your bed, reveling in the feeling of your mate’s eyes tracing the lines of your body. Ruhn tongues at his piercing in a way he knows drives you mad, but his gaze returns to the toy, narrow-eyed as if it might actually be the thing you’re replacing him with.

“Well,” you drawl, teasing a hand up your front. You want him to use it on you, set it to the fastest speed and press it against your clit while he impales you with his large cock. You shiver, tracing a nipple with a finger as you continue. “If you let me move in, I wouldn’t have to use that on nights I get lonely.”

Ruhn’s nostrils flare, pupils growing wide as you spread your legs for him, teasing him even more. Your pretty eyes flick to the vibrator in his hand and back to his, and you watch his face brighten, the curve of his lips into a mischievous smirk that spells out at least four orgasms as he fully understands what you’re needing from him and your little toy.

He flips the toy on and it reverberates loudly, sending shockwaves up his tattooed arms. He can understand why this would be pleasurable, especially if it has your legs falling open so easily, conditioned by the pink toy’s noises. Ruhn clutches the vibrator in hand, crawling up onto the bed between your legs. He looks like a predator, majestic muscles underneath his tight t-shirt rippling with every movement.

“If I let you move in with me,” he murmurs against your skin, his words hot and breathy against your thighs as he removes your pants and underwear in one go. Your breath catches in your throat as he drags the pulsing toy across your hip bone and your fingers find his hair, tangling in inky locks to try and pull him closer to your cunt that’s pulsing with need. “I would never get anything done.”

“Yes,” you hiss as he nips at the soft skin of your navel, working higher and higher, dragging your shirt up with him as he goes. “Because smoking with Dec and Flynn takes up so much of your time.”

Ruhn chuckles, pressing his body flat against yours. You don’t know when he shed himself of his own shirt but you don’t care, reveling in the way that his chest vibrates against yours and his contained cock settles against your wet and needy cunt.

The texture of his jeans brushes your core and you arch into the bed with a depraved sort of noise. Gods, he’s mouthing across your neck, sucking harshly as punishment for your snarkiness. Oh, he’ll get you back for that one. The toy in his hand will make sure of that. It’s about to become his new best friend.

“We’re busy boys, Deer. Having you around will only distract them further,” he says against your mouth, stealing a kiss as he gently presses the vibrator to the pulse in your throat. They’re nearly beating the same rate and it makes you shudder and mewl, canting your hips for some of the glorious friction the roughness of his jeans cause. “And I don’t like to share.”

“Ruhn,” you gasp, fisting your fingers into the sheets. You can’t bear it, the feeling of him sucking marks into your neck, branding you with his lips. His piercing drags cold against your pert nipple as he makes his way downward, but he’s going much too slow, sliding the vibrator between your breasts in a hot line.

Excitement stirs in your gut as you jerk faster against him. He’s trying to pin you to the bed with his hips but it only makes everything dig deliciously into you—

Your mate senses this, pulling away from you, ignoring your frustrated cry.

“Please,” you beg, eyes flying wide. You hadn’t realized that they’d fallen shut in utter bliss, working hard for the orgasm tingling between your legs. Your clit throbs at the sight of your shirtless mate kneeling above you. He looks like a God, staring down at you with dark eyes and a wicked grin.

“Are you talking to me, Deer,” he asks, holding up the buzzing pink toy, “Or this?”

You growl, exasperated. Surging, you press up on your hands, aiming to reach out and grab him by the loopholes of his pants. If he won’t give you what you want you’ll finish yourself, but the way he’s clutching onto your vibrator…is that what you look like when you’re using it as well?

“Be nice, Ruhn,” you pout when he doesn’t budge. His blue eyes sparkle. Ruhn loves keeping you on edge. But using your toy against you is purely tortuous.

He tuts, one hand moving to the button of his pants while the one holding your vibrator presses gently to your shoulder, a soft motion telling you he wants you to lie back.

“Okay, Deer. I’ll stop teasing.” You huff, glaring up at him. You’re trying to ignore the incessant buzzing by your ear but it’s calling to you, wanting you to shove Ruhn out of your room and use it because it would never tease you like that. “Do you want me?”

His tone turns utterly soft with his question. Insecure, almost. But your brows pull tightly together as you assess your mate and his unclear question. He could mean anything by that. Do you want me to go down on you? Yes. Do you want me to use the vibrator on you until your bed is soaked through with your pleasure? Yes. Do you want me to stuff you full of my cock until you milk me of my cum? Yes.

Upon seeing your confusion, he clarifies. “Do you want me to stay?”

A part of you melts. Of course, you want him to stay. You want him to stay forever, tangled up in the sheet with you until the end of time, but it’s not possible. Your cunt still throbs for him, and right now, all you really want is to cum.

“Of course, I want you,” you reach out a gentle hand and he meets you halfway, intertwining your fingers. “I love you so much, Ruhn. More than I have ever loved anything,” you trail off, taking his other hand, the one that’s clutching the vibrator, urging him slowly to your awaiting cunt. Your voice shudders with pleasure as it touches your sensitive clit, and Ruhn swallows thickly. “But what I’d really love is to cum, by you. Now. Please.” You add, an afterthought, writhing on the bed for him.

Ruhn curses low, watching the way your body reacts to the toy in his hands. Your fingers slacken, then fall from his wrist completely, letting him take over. His eyes blaze when you whimper and cry out when he slides the vibrator through your folds. Fuck, you’re soaking wet, thighs glistening, his fingers drenched as he slips the toy into your cunt and his thumb brushes across your clit.

“I can do that,” he answers breathlessly. You moan his name sinfully in response, and it shoves him into action. His cock is achingly hard, trapped in the confines of his pants. It’s a struggle to get out of them, but he refuses to remove a hand from the toy shoved deeply into your snatch, all too caught up in your keening responses to the little thing.

It’s awkward to try and kick out of his underwear while he still pleases you, but you don’t seem to mind the slight shifting and cursing going on because your eyes are rolled into the back of your head with pleasure, hands tweaking your nipples. “Ruhn,” you pant, “Get on me, please.”

He doesn’t hesitate and you moan lewdly as his hot body presses against yours again, drowning you with desperate kisses. You push against him just as fervently, hands eagerly roaming the plains of his muscles as he moves against you. The thickness of his cock slides against your soaking cunt and the vibrator that has your body shaking, but you want more. You want him.

As if he’s reading your mind, Ruhn removes the vibrator and presses into you in one fell swoop, forcing the air from your lungs as his long length meets your womb. He directs the vibrator up slightly, pounding into you as he holds it to your clit, swallowing down your loud cry. You press your breasts into his chest, and the scrape of your nipples against his pectorals is utterly delicious and your back bows for more.

It’s almost too much, the vibrator pressed to your clit as Ruhn works his cock into you with an eagerness you haven’t seen in a while. Neither of you had ever mentioned the possibility of using toys in bed and now you’re sure you’d be questioning yourself why if you weren’t on the edge of the most bone-shaking orgasm.

“Ruhn,” you cry, clawing at your mate. He grunts in response, jackknifing into you faster. The pulsing from your toy makes you shake, and he can feel the reverberations in his own cock. He’s drowning in pleasure, with how utterly soaking you are for him, the way you’re clinging to him and begging him to fuck you. The way your cunt clenches around his cock, coaxing his orgasm from him and your body drinking it greedily. There’s no way he would’ve lasted with you like this, but he wants to take you over and over again, all night with the way you scream his name, cresting over your own edge.

Your mate sees you through your orgasm, but the buzzing doesn’t let up, even when you begin to squirm and plead for him to stop. He’s buried deep into your core, loving every second of the way you convulse around him. Ruhn keeps his cum pressed in deep, and his teeth are sharp as they scrape against your collarbone, working his way up to your ear. You cling to him, rutting your hips like a goddamn whore, begging.

“Please,” your voice is weak, quivering, his broad shoulders lined with red marks as you cling to him.

“Shh, Deer, it’s alright. Just give me one more, baby. One more and I’ll turn the vibrator off,” he grins smugly down at you. Your hair is strewn about the pillows, forehead beading with sweat. Your eyes are shut tightly, mouth agape in a desperate gasp for air. What you don’t see is the glint in his gaze, the one that tells you he might be turning off the vibrator but it will in no way be your last orgasm of the night.

#ruhn danaan x reader #ruhn x reader #ruhn danaan #crescent city #sjm cc #azsazz

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enbyenvy666 · 3 months

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personal pornstar Part 1/?

Being a hero can be overwhelming at times. Stressful and demanding, rarely having a break long enough to practise some self care. All to help and benefit our community. So why not get something back from the community? Hire your companion today! --------

Falling on hard times led you to signing up to become a 'companion' for Pro Heroes, hoping to make a quick buck, but instead you became the 3rd part of a famous hero couple who show you love in ways you never expected.

established!kiribaku x masc!reader eventual smut (will be a cismale version and a transmale version) word count - 1.7k

CONTENT WARNINGS - 18+ themes, eating food, swearing, sex work? except there isn't any sex yet, reader is broke, reader is implied to have piercings, google translate french, no beta (if i've missed anything please let me know)

You had seen the adverts. A website in which Pro Heroes can order ‘companions’ to help them de-stress. You weren’t a pro, no, quite the opposite actually. The ads were definitely targeted, you were seeing them because you were broke and in need of some cash in order to live. There were nights where you really considered joining while eating from a cup of ramen noodles as your third meal that day, for the fourth day in a row.

But when you did peruse the website out of curiosity, it didn’t specify what the companions would be hired for. It didn’t say it was sexual, but it didn’t deny it either. It seemed almost like a sugar baby/sugar parent type situation, where you would be financially compensated for ‘favours’. Some heroes were well off financially which was very appealing, but there were also some lesser known heroes who could be into some really freaky shit with not a lot of compensation for it.

After getting your electricity bill, you bit the bullet and signed up. You had to sign an NDA when creating your account, which you felt was a little over the top but your empty bank account was enough motivation to continue. Uploading a couple of more recent pictures, including a couple spicier ones from times you were really feeling yourself, and writing a small bio trying to hype yourself up, you eagerly waited for some kind of response. But eventually you forgot about it, focusing on your minimum wage job instead.

Until you checked your phone during your lunch break and found that you had received a message from ‘Rouge_ Émeute’. While the message contained simple instructions, it was written nicely with ‘please’s and ‘thank you’s sprinkled throughout. They wanted to meet you at a private restaurant, a restaurant you recognised to be a safe haven for Heroes to dine at without flashing cameras in their faces.

It was also an expensive restaurant, which made you feel giddy about one of the more popular heroes wanting to meet you. Putting on your best button up and slacks, you were nervous when you arrived at the restaurant. You were told to tell the hostess you were here for ‘R and D’, which you felt silly saying until the hostess gave you a bright smile, gesturing for you to follow as she weaved through the restaurant.

You passed so many famous faces as you almost had to jog to catch up with the hostess. You saw Fat Gum, Uwabami, Selkie. You’re pretty sure you even saw Red Riot and Dynamight! Wait… why is the hostess leading you straight to their table?

Hold on a second…

Oh shit.

The hostess happily gestured to the booth seat, across from the two heroes, placing a couple menus down on the table before quickly walking away. You couldn’t believe it. The number two hero and his husband, hired you, to be their companion for the evening. Red Riot had a bright grin on his face, showing off his famous pointy teeth, while Dynamight sat beside him with a scowl, arms crossed over his chest.

It was strange seeing them out of their hero costumes, Riot in a button down and maroon blazer, complementing his red hair which wasn’t spiked up in its usual style, but instead softly falling down his shoulders. Dynamight was wearing a white polo, short sleeves showing off his bulging biceps muscles, which you could see ripple with any minor movement. You scooted across the seat as you sat down, both sets of their red eyes watching you. Like an ant under a magnifying glass, you felt like you were about to burst into flames at any moment. Riot finally spoke, breaking the tension. “Punk_boi right?”

Ah yes, your username for the website. You had completely forgotten to tell them your real name, or at least whichever one of the pair you were corresponding with.

“It’s (y/n),” you responded meekly, trying to force a smile that made you look comfortable, but missing the mark.

“(y/n)… it suits you,” Riot smiled sweetly, placing his elbow on the table to rest his chin in his palm. You felt your cheeks grow warm, averting your gaze down to your lap where your fingers fiddled nervously under the table. You whispered out an appreciated thanks, shoulders tense. Dynamight kept his hard gaze on you, ruby eyes flicking over your nervous form, sitting shyly across from him. Noticing his staring, you took a deep breath, gaining the courage to talk.

“I’m so sorry, I guess I’m a little star struck, I didn’t think the number 2 hero would be interested in me,” you admitted with a nervous chuckle. Dynamight finally uncrossed his arms from his chest, instead digging his elbows into the table as he leaned closer to you.

“Yeah well, I am.” His regular volume just seemed to be slightly louder, causing a couple of glances from other tables. “What are you in this for?”

His question caught you off guard. You had heard that he was abrasive and straightforward but he still surprised you.

“I’m uh… pretty broke right now,” you admitted, eyes darting across the heroes’ faces to gauge any type of reaction, and when you didn’t see one, you decided to use this as an opportunity to turn up the charm.

“And because I want to thank the heroes that keep me safe,” you added in a sultry tone, reaching across the table to squeeze Dynamight’s hand. It was a lie though, you lived in an area with very limited patrols so there was more crime, but at least the rent was cheap because of it.

“There’s no need to thank us,” Riot said, laying his hand over yours, his large palm and fingers quickly engulfing your hand and almost covering Dynamight’s as well. You felt your blood run cold for a moment, before your face grew warm. You had assumed that you were hired just for Dynamight, maybe for some kind of cuckoldry thing but now it dawned on you. They both wanted you. “Please, order anything you like.”

The menu was the perfect barrier to cover your face as your situation started to dawn on you. Both of these men were nearly double your size, especially Red Riot, who was a mountain of a man. You weren’t sure if you could… take them both at once, let alone just Riot. Deciding to just get a pasta dish, you fiddled with your collar as you tried to steel your nerves. With your fingers threaded together, you placed them on the table to hopefully avoid anymore fidgeting to betray your calm facade.

“This is my first time doing this,” you admitted, feeling a slight weight lift from your shoulders. Dynamight’s lips turned upwards into a smirk as he huffed a short laugh.

“We could tell,” he teased. Riot chuckled as well, covering your hand with his again, his fingers soothingly stroking your wrist, fingertips just sneaking under your sleeve. Feeling the warmth in your face spread down your neck, you sheepishly turned your attention to your lap again.

“Don’t worry, it’s our first time too,” he assured.

“Wouldn’t you want someone with more experience?”

“Nah,” the blonde reached over, forefinger hooking under your chin with his thumb holding it in place as he tilted your head upward, forcing you to look at him. “We liked you too much.”

Thank god you didn’t have some kind of fire or heat quirk because you could’ve melted at that moment. Throughout the dinner, the two heroes would give you teasing touches and flirty comments, and as much as you wanted to reciprocate, they made you too flustered. By the time dinner had ended and they led you outside, the butterflies in your stomach feeling more and more like anxiety. You were about to have sex with not one stranger, but two, who were both Pro Heroes as well!

The cold night air cooled your hot face, but Dynamight’s hand on your lower back made the temperature of your cheeks a fierce competition. Riot stood in front of you to protect you from the cold breeze while requesting your phone. Hesitant, you gave him the device, watching him type away before handing it back to you.

He had created two new contacts, ‘Eijiro Kirishima’ and ‘Katsuki Bakugo’, and put them both in a group chat. Kirishima leaned down to your ear, feeling his lips brush against the metal jewellery that pierced the cartilage as he whispered, “Text us when you get home safe.”

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to respond, brain short-circuiting when the scent of his fancy cologne filled your nostrils. Bakugo reached into his pocket, moving in closer to your other side, lips brushing against your other ear as he handed you something discreetly. “For the cab.”

Glancing down at your palm you saw a hundred dollar bill. Gawking at it, your eyes practically bulged out of your skull. “I-I-I thought-“

The two men chuckled, Bakugo sounding a little more raspy. His hand rubbed up and down your back, pressing his surprisingly soft lips to your cheek in a kiss that almost made your knees buckle.

“Not yet, sweetheart, but maybe if you’d like to see us again,” Kirishima whispered before kissing your other cheek, turning away to flag down a taxi. As soon as one pulled up, the red head opened the door for you, and Bakugo’s hand never leaving your back until you climbed into the yellow car. With quick goodbyes, you watched them walk away hand in hand.

The cab ride was short, leaving you with plenty of change which you felt guilty for keeping. Once you got inside your apartment, your anxiety washed away and was replaced with exhaustion. The rollercoaster of emotions from dinner, and from work early that day left you extremely drained. Stripping from your clothes and crawling into bed, you remembered to text the two heroes you were home safe just before drifting off. --------

A/N - ahhhhhh first time posting! please let me know if there's any mistakes or ways i can improve! likes and reposts appreciated <3

#poly kiribaku x reader #bakugou katsuki x male reader #kiribaku x reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x male reader #bnha x reader #bnha x male reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #eijiro kirishima x reader #bnha x trans reader #poly kiribake x male reader

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tacticaldiary · 11 months

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Sacrifices

Pairing: John Price x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

They’re surrounded and she’s the only person who can pull off the stunt required for the extractions team to do their magic. Defying her Captain’s orders was well worth the punishment if that meant said Captain and her teammates left this hellhole alive. Even if there was the possibility that that would be without her.

Masterlist

“The evac team’s swarmed, can’t land until the roof is secure!” Gaz yells out while barricading the door the three of them burst through for cover. Price grits his teeth, cursing.

Gunshots ping in the distance. This was supposed to be a simple mission. Capture the leader of an enemy organisation and transport him back to base for questioning.

The only issue was the intel they’d received had been compromised from the inside, an ambush waiting for them instead of their target. Gaz, Price, and her were the three people from the Task Force dispatched, the operation needed to be done without raising any alarms, after all. A smaller unit made sense.

Until it didn’t. The ambush had been brutal.

Gaz took a shot to the leg and Price, two bullets to the shoulder to his firing arm. She was the only one unharmed. The room seems to be for some kind of storage. Metal racks line the walls, a single light illuminating the space dimly.

“The roof is their primary focus, they know that’s where they’ll try to extract us from.” Price says, leaning against the wall. He does not flinch, does not wince or show any signs of discomfort from his wound aside from the sweat on his forehead and the pale complexion of his skin. Gaz isn’t doing much better, lowering himself down to get his bearing and inspect his leg.

“Our options are stay here until we’re found, or take a room full of uninjured, armed forces all at once.” Gaz grits out, rolling up his pant leg.

She’d been silent this entire time, thinking about their next course of action. The other two were injured. They’d be expecting them to strike as soon as possible, knowing they were desperate to escape.

The other two wouldn’t be any good standing their ground. Gaz couldn’t walk, and Price wouldn’t be able to shoot accurately. This was her family. Her teammates, yes, but she loved Gaz like an annoying little brother, and Price...

Well, he may be her Captain, but at the end of the day, he’s also her husband.

The decision comes without any hesitation. Grabbing her rifle, she checks her ammo and reloads, the clinking of the bullets catching the attention of the other two. She checks her knives, feeling their gazes on her, and when she finally straightens up and catches Price’s narrowed gaze, she knows he’s figured out her plan of action.

“You’re not to act without orders, sergeant.” He says, low and authoritative. It’s his Captain voice, the one she and the others obey without question on the field.

This is the first time she’s chosen to disobey it.

“We don’t have a choice.” She says, slinging her pistol into its holster. “I’m the only one not out of commission. I can clear the roof, buy you some time at least.”

Gaz goes to interrupt but her husband beats her to it.

“Stand down, Sergeant.” He orders, knuckles white around the shelf he’s gripping.

“Negative, Captain.” She responds calmly.

“I’m giving you a direct order-”

“Yes.” She cuts him off. “I’ll get the evac team in, they’ll send backup.”

“Sergeant-!“ There’s a hint of something other than his stoic command when she approaches the door, something akin to alarm and worry. Even Gaz snaps his head to look at the Captain.

“Price. Gaz.” She nods to each of them in turn, then gives Price one last look. Her rough, professional exterior cracks for a moment, the sad but determined smile she offers him might be the last one he sees, and the thought makes his heart plummet hard. “I’m glad to have worked with you.” She turns to John. “Love you.”

He abandons her title and calls out her name angrily instead, pushing off the wall to march towards her. She knows he’s going to grab her, force her to stay and think of something else if he caught her. Hell, he might even decide to go out there instead of her and that was simply unacceptable. She slips out the door, slams it shut and bolts it closed from the outside, trapping them in.

Two pairs of arms pound on the door, two muffled voices call out her name, one frantic, the other fearful and angry.

She leaves them behind, extracting a frag grenade from her belt. Stealth was one of her specialties, and even more so now that she’s working alone. Slinking back, keeping to the shadows, she finds her way to the staircase leading to the roof. Cracking open the door, she peers out to assess the situation.

Counting 15 men, armed and alert, she takes a deep breath, pulls the pin out of the grenade, throwing it out.

The moment it explodes, she throws open the door, takes three men out, and dives for cover behind a stack of sandbags. Men bark out shouts and orders, bullets rain around her. Another grenade sails over the bags, taking out a handful of them.

Hauling herself over the bags, she shoots down a few more of them, lunging to change covers.

A sharp pain stings straight through her forearm.

Another one through her right calf.

Biting back a cry, she situates herself behind the second stack of sandbags. Less than half the men left. She could do it. She wasn’t doing this for herself. She was doing this for Gaz.

She was doing this for Price. For her husband.

The person who loved staying in bed with her on their off days, the man that treated her like she was the most precious thing in the world. Price was someone she would never find again, and she was grateful for every moment they spent together. In bed lazy, taking a walk outside, lounging around at the beach, cuddling on the couch. Every moment with him was special, and she would not, she could not let him die like this.

Trapped in a fucking setup.

Summoning up the will, she throws her last grenade and opens fire, dropping man after man. Bullets scrape across her skin but she barely feels them.

She aims for the last man, the roof bloodied with corpses when he throws down a smokescreen. Eyes watering, she coughs, moving to get out of the cloud, when she feels an arm lock around her neck.

The man snarls, grabbing her in a headlock and squeezing. She chokes, scratches at his arms but his grip is relentless. Dark spots dot her vision, and she can feel her thoughts slip away.

‘Clear your head’ John would have told her. ‘No situation is inescapable, you just need to figure out the routes to escape.’

Escape. Get the evac team in. She was so close.

She reaches down and grabs at her legs until her hand curls around the last knife she has tucked away. Yanking it out, she jams it into the man’s arm and shoves him away, stumbling to increase the distance between them.

Cursing, the soldier points his gun at her with a sneer, hatred clear on his face. Unarmed, she looks for a weapon; her gun had been dropped in the struggle.

There’s a beat of silence where neither of them move, then the soldier bark out a laugh and pressed the trigger.

The bang makes her flinch as she ducks, preparing for the incoming second shot that would take her out.

Nothing comes.

Nothing but the thump of a body and arms pulling her up to her feet with an exclamation of her name. She starts to put up a fight, but then realises that the hands that hold her do not hurt, but are familiar and warm.

“I’ve got you.” A smooth, gravelly voice. “Easy does it.”

“John?” She gasps out. Over his shoulder, Gaz limps in on the scene, declaring it clear. A hand pressed to his ear, contacting the evac team via comms.

Now that the adrenaline starts to ebb away, she feels the full effects of her decision hitting her hard. She’s bleeding from a lot of places.

Her cheek, her calf, her forearm, the side of her stomach. Scraped and bruised, still gasping for oxygen from being choked. God, she just knows there are going to be bruises around her throat tomorrow by how sore it is.

Her knees buckle, but Price catches her, lowering them both to the ground. “I’ve got you, love.” He mutters, laying her down and looking her head to toe to chart her injuries. “Bloody hell.” He curses at her state. “What the hell were you thinking? Took us ages to break outta that goddamn room.” He snaps, glaring down at her. Among the anger, she can see worry and panic swimming in those eyes of his.

“Needed to get the roof clear.” She breathes out, clutching onto his wrist. “Did it, didn’t I?” A weak laugh that Price does not find amusing at all.

“We need a medic!” He yells over his shoulder to Gaz, who nods and relays the information over. “We’re talking about your actions later.” He informs her firmly, eyebrows drawn tightly together. “But you’re alright for now. You’re gonna be fine, you hear me?”

All she can bare to do is nod, squeezing her eyes shut, her entire body hurts and-

“Shit, ouch.” She hisses through her teeth, eyes flying open. “Did you just pinch me?” She says incredulously.

“I need you to stay awake, love.” Price says firmly. “Eyes on me, yeah? Keep talking. Don’t you dare close your eyes.”

“Is that an order, Captain?” She tries a weak smile.

“It’s one you’ll listen to, that’s for fucking sure.” His grumble pulls out a small laugh from her. She doesn’t have to wait long, it seems because the humming noise of the chopper fills the air soon enough, the evac team lands safely on the roof. A swarm of people rushes out of the chopper towards them.

The three of them are loaded onto the helicopter, medics on them, shouting to each other and measuring out syringes of medicine.

Price looks at her the entire time, watching her as if she might disappear again. She knows she’ll get a talking to when they land, a harder one from her Captain, and a more worried one from her husband, but she can’t bring herself to care.

They were all alive.

Price could berate her as much as possible, she’d never regret saving their lives, even if it had meant trading her own.

Requests Are Open!

(17/06/2023)

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bluepluto03 · 4 months

Text

Branch Sacrifices himself for Floyd AU

Summary: in which Branch sees Floyd getting the life sucked out of him and gets freaked enough to make a really bad decision

———————————————————————

“I have a proposition for you. A trade.”

“Branch no!” Floyd yells

“Trade for what?”

“For me. You free Floyd, and you can use me instead.”

“Branch, leave, please.” Floyd begs.

Branch ignores him resolutely

Velvet seems to be considering. “Why should I trade?”

“Um… I won't die as fast?” Branch offers, caught off guard. He didn’t expect he’d need to convince her to kidnap him.

(Full mini/bullet fic under the cut)

———————————————————————

Note: this is a cross between a actual fic and a bullet fic bc I have Other Projects I’m supposed to be working on and I’m trying to limit myself from going all out on trolls, but if people like this maybe I’ll try to clean it up some more and put it on ao3

Branch gets the bait letter sometime before the wedding. He panics badly, barely stops to leave a note for Poppy before running off to mt rageous.

JD has already spoken with Floyd and left to collect everyone

At first their Reunion is pretty similar to cannon with a bit more confusion and worry

Branch starts trying to get the cover off the vents so he can take Floyd with him- he doesn’t want to leave him there. But It’s a huge metal grate over a vent and he’s one tiny troll there’s only so much he can do

Floyd hears Velvet and Veneer approaching and tells Branch to run. Branch argues against him, keeps trying to open the stupid grate, ignoring Floyd’s pleas for him to run

In the hallway the voices of Velvet and Veneer go quiet but the trolls are too frantic to notice

Floyd points out Branch can’t help him if they’re both caught, and Branch reluctantly agrees to hide

Velvet, who’s been listening at the door, bursts in. She lunges at Branch but he escapes into the vents where she can’t reach him

Vaneer whines they’ll never be able to find him now

Velvet is like hmm… picks up Floyd’s crystal, Floyd seems scared, looking back up at her

“Such a shame. Im not sure this one will last until the next one shows up.” She says loudly

Her voice rattles around the vents and shakes the ground Branch is trying to stand on and he he grits his teeth against it

“Oh im sure another one will show up soon enough, but we have half a dozen shows in the next few days. This one’s getting pretty weak.” she shakes Floyd. “With two, well theres one for each of us! Right veneer?”

“R-right?”

“Im sure two would be able to make it much longer…”

Branch knows what she’s doing. He knows she’s just trying to bait him out. The stupidest thing in the world he could do would be to go down there right now.

But all he can see is how pale floyd is getting, and the terrifying translucence of the tips of his fingers, and-

And. if he goes down there he’ll be useless to save floyd.

He’ll have to just figure out some other way to get floyd out

“We’ll have to keep him with us now, i guess, since theres some little critters running around. We don’t want them bothering our little guest”

Anxiety starts to choke Branch and he tries to push it down. Okay, that complicates things, but it’s fine. It’ll be fine. He’ll still manage to save Floyd. Before it’s too late

He can’t pull himself away from the edge of the vent. He realizes he’s been edging closer and closer on his stomach, out of the shadows, desperate just to see Floyd for a moment longer

Velvet looks around. She sees a shadow in the vent and grins to herself

“Well we’ve gotta get going to our next show. Time for a quick spritz”

She sprays herself

Floyd lifts up from the force of it, eyes rolling back in pain. His body shudders once with the wave, then goes boneless as he drops to the bottom of the bottle

“NO-“ the scream rips through Branch’s throat before he can catch it. Velvet looks at the vent with a predatory look in her eye. Floyd looks dazed and terrified on Branch’s behalf

Velvet takes one predatory step forward and instinctively Branch yells “DON’T MOVE”

Velvet stops, seemingly more out of surprise than anything else. She laghs. “Why should i troll? What’re you gonna do? Sing at me?”

“I’ll disappear into the vents” Branch says with much more confidence than he feels. “By the time you get to me, i can be deep enough that you won’t be able to grab me.”

Velvet frowns, eyes scanning the distance between them, but she dosn’t move forward

“Why not just run off then?” Veneer asks, though it sounds more genuinely confused, lacking his sister’s mocking undertone

Floyd is looking at him with a furrowed brow, confusion evident on his face as he struggles to figure out what branch is doing, even as he leans limply against the side of the bottle

“I have a proposition for you. A trade.”

“Branch, no!” Floyd yells as he figures it out

“Trade for what?”

“For me. You free Floyd, and you can use me instead.”

“Branch, leave, please.” Floyd begs.

Branch ignores him, resolutely pushing down the fear in his chest

Velvet seems to be considering. “Why should I trade?”

“Um… I won't die as fast?” Branch offers, caught off guard. He didn’t expect he’d need to convince her to kidnap him.

“Maybe, but pinkie here is pretty powerful. How do I know you’ll be anywhere near as strong?”

Branch hesitates then forces himself move forward “I’m stronger.”

“No he’s not! He’s terrible!” Floyd insists

“Excuse me?” Branch shoots back, indigent and caught off guard

But Floyd’s not looking at him hes talking to velvet. “He’s awful. If you use him you’ll sound like-” he grasps for how to convince them ”like a broken chalkboard, or nails in a clock, or- or a crying bird!”

“You’re mixing metaphors, babe” Veneer tells him

“Or something! It’ll be bad, okay??” floyd insists desperately

branch feels irrationally a bit hurt because he knows floyd is only saying that to protect him. He takes a deep breath, pushing down all the fear and hurt

“No it won’t. I have the voice of an angel.

Velvet raises an eyebrow. “Prove it.”

He sings a few bars

“Deal.” Velvet agrees to the trade

Now there’s the problem of actually doing the trade

They tell him to come down, he says no you’ll take us both, gimme floyd and then ill come down, they accuse him of the same thing, they agree on branch standing on the edge of the vent and them putting floyd next to him as they pick him up

They do it and branch tries not to shake in fear

They let Branch help Floyd into the vent because he’s so weak, but both Velvet and Veneer are hovering so close and they’ve figured out how to shut some of the vents so even if he wanted to leave he couldn’t

As floyd is placed down he beggs branch “branch please don’t do this, please.”

Branch can’t look at him. He wishes he had something, anything to say

Floyd’s hair wraps around his wrist weakly, it’s all Floyd can manage. Branch just gently takes it off and keeps going

As he steps into velvets hand he tries his best for a comforting smile. “I’ll be back. I promise.”

This time, when one of them walks away, they both know he’s lying

Note: that’s what I have so far! Cue very sick Floyd watching his brother suffer and desperately trying to save him while so weak.

Maybe I’ll continue if ppl like this maybe I’ll finish editing this into something a bit cleaner but we’ll see! Honestly depends if people are interested bc I have other stuff I really should be working on but the trolls hyperfixation hit me with a frying pan and dragged me into the fandom in a burlap sack.

#trolls #trolls band together #branch trolls #velvet and veneer #trolls floyd

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world-of-aus · 11 months

Text

Never Been The Type To

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky x Mobster!Reader

Warnings: Cliff Hanger????

Author's Note: An accompanied piece to Tell Me I've Been Lied Too! I'm not sure where I will be taking these pieces but if y'all are interested I'll try and see where I can take this. Hope you all enjoy this follow up! Happy Readings Buns.

The shipment was torn into, bullet casings strewn amongst the wooden framing that adorned the floor of his warehouse. The longer he looks at the damaged goods the harder his jaw clenches, teeth grinding, as he looks over what will set him back months to replace. “Security’s been taken care of,” Steve calls from behind him flanking his side as he joins his boss, eyes assessing the scene.

“Cameras catch anything?”

Steve’s silence is enough to have Bucky sending his foot into the already damaged crates, the wood splintering further under his foot as the fire burns within him, rage all consuming. “What the fuck am I paying for then!” the brunette all but growls as he rounds on his best friend getting in his space. “No one,” he points to the doors behind Steve, “No one should have been able to get to these crates without a bullet between their eyes, do you know how far back this sets us? Do you know how much money I've lost to this? Give me something Rogers, something other than Security's been taken care of!”

Steves hard gaze is undeterred, “whoever did this knew what they were doing, they’re not some chump hired off the streets, it could have been a rat.”

Bucky’s jaw clenches as he glares his concierge down, “you telling me that you let a rat fly under your radar unnoticed,” he growls poking Steve in the chest, “don’t think Wilson would let something like that happen if he had your rank.” Steves features mirror his, “not what I'm saying,” the blonde grits teeth bared, “but this person knew what they were doing Barnes, they took out the cameras, took out our men and our cargo in a matter of minutes, whoever this is has it out for you.”

The brunette turns away from his friend, cold eyes going back to the problem at hand, “I took care of every last person who would even think of pulling some shit like this when I went after those who wronged my father.” Steve doesn’t have to say your name, for Bucky to know what he’s thinking, “she doesn’t have the drive to pull something like this,” Bucky lies turning away from his friend. “We can’t scratch her from the list,” Steve murmurs, “you lied to her, betrayed her trust, you murdered her father in front of her!”

Bucky’s on Steve in an instant his hands curled around the lapels of his collar, “I did what I had to do,” he growls, “she wasn’t made for this life Steve, couldn’t even see the corrupt shit her old man was doing behind her back, I had to do it! Her father was ready to sell her soul for the next big thing!”

“So you to lie to her, couldn’t be the bigger man and tell her what was going on? Had to be just like daddy?” Steve knows he deserves the fist to the face, but he also knows his boss needs to hear it, Steve had never agreed to what Bucky felt he needed to do you that night. Couldn’t stand at his best friends, stand at his bosses' side, the night he murdered your father. Steve knew your father deserved it with what he had planned for you, but he couldn’t agree with how Bucky went about it. “Feel better big man,” Steve spits, blood splattering the concrete, Bucky pushes him away, “Go home Rogers, you’re done here.”

“You think letting yourself into her home is going to make matters any better for you,” Steve calls after Bucky. “I’m getting answers Rogers, answers you all have failed to give me, go home to Peggy, you’re done.”

Your back was to the wooden oak doors of your office, cooled glass in hand as you look out the French windows of your home. It was dark out, your security having gone home for the night after inspection of your property, your father wouldn’t have agreed to the new change implemented, but they had families; loved ones who waited up for them, waited for their safe arrival home.

You swirl the cube of ice in your cup, bringing it to your lips as you swallow down the last of the amber liquid. You pretend not to hear the soft creak of your office door, the cautious steps into your office. You wait, “you have a death wish?” You chuckle placing the empty glass down onto your desk before you’re turning to face the man you once thought was the one.

You wondered if the ache in your chest would ever wane.

“If it’s my time, it’s my time,” you answer voice void of any emotion, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

In the dim of the office you catch the tick of his jaw, he’s annoyed, good. “Your dad’s gone and you just let your guard down? Anyone could just walk in and” he points his fingers at you in the representation of a gun going off right between your eyes. The laugh you let out is cold, “you’re the reason he’s gone James. Is that why you’re here asking stupid questions? You come to end my life the way you ended my fathers? Shame, was expecting you sooner than this, you’re slacking.”

The tick is more prominent, you’re getting under his skin, “I think you and I both know why I'm here.” You raise a brow, “no actually I don’t, care to let me in or are you going to leave me in the dark like you always did.” “Cut the shit y/l/n the cargo,” he grits, “you’re the only one who could have pulled an operation like that, you knew -”

You cut him off with a loud laugh, “you’re here because someone fucked with your shit and you think it was me?” “My men are dead because of you,” he growls. Your lips are set in a thin line as you stare the brunette down, “No your men are dead because of you. Not everyone has a vendetta to get those who wrong them Barnes, and my condolences to your men’s family but whoever fucked with your shit it wasn’t me. The day my father died was the day I vowed to myself never to be seen with the likes of you again.”

“If it wasn’t you then who was it? I made sure to take care of every last person who wronged my father, you’re the only one who could have -”

“Get out,” you grit, “I said get the hell out of my home Barnes!” you yell when he doesn’t move. “I want nothing to do with you, I don’t want to know anything about you, I hate you, I hate what you’ve done to me, who you’ve made me. I have lost so much because of you, I won’t let you take anymore.”

His lips part but you hold a finger up, head casted down as you will the knot in your throat away, “Get out. Please.”

The tick returns, but he doesn’t go against your word as he turns on his heel. It takes a lot of you not to crumble, your features stoned as you heave in shaky breaths. You turn to the desk picking up your burner unlocking the device as you pull up your messages. Opening the only message that sits there you draft up a reply, a file going attached with your warning.

‘This is all I know. Don’t let your guard down, he’s coming for all of you.’

With notification that your message had been received you're sending the device crashing into the floor, your heel cracking straight through the screen glass.

#mobster!bucky barnes x reader #mobster!bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #mobster!bucky x reader

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s0ulsniper · 5 months

Text

peter parker x classmate!reader | P.P.

warnings: should be gn!reader, apologies if I used any fem or masc pronouns, I believe none were specified for the reader.

synopsis: peter interrupts your best friend and yours conversation at the wrong time, but it turns right.

pairings: peter parker x gn!reader

a/n: this could be used with any of the peters, but I wrote this with mostly Andrew and Tom in mind.

the brisk air stung at your nose, your hands shoved into the cozy pockets of your coat. a little further to the north was the almighty midtown high's football field. it was large, a fence covering majority of the sidelines.

your science book had been wedged in between your arm and torso in lousy attempt to keep every bit of your skin covered. you were sure, and embarrassed, that your cheeks flushed an awkward red even if it wasn't visible.

instead of walking through the crowded hallways, you chose to dart out of one of the many exits and walked from the outside to your algebra class. although you certainly dodged a bullet choosing to take a faster route, your body aches against you.

you hear her before you see her, a loud yell of your acquired nickname from behind you. you lips tint up and you turn around with a smug look across your face, your best friend running to catch up to you.

"jesus, you are like a speed demon-." she wheezes, curled over. "you ever take a break, or are you constantly just running to peter?"

your mouth prys open, despite you convinced you couldn't move your face.

"okay-... low blow f/n. I'm not always "running" to him". you shrug off, continuing to walk.

she darts after you, chuckles erupting from her almost in an amused way.

"yeah- whatever. you definitely have the hots for him. it's not like you don't giggle about him at my house almost everyday after school." she states, matter of factly. "you need to talk to him!"

you whip your head around and put you hand over her mouth.

"keep your voice down! your speaking loud enough for the entire school to hear." you hush her.

"hear what?" someone asks.

you shove your hands back in your pocket as you turn to peter. not only a cliche, but your worst nightmare. you hoped on whatever higher power that he didn't hear his name associated, or majority of the conversation.

"oh- we were just talking about this surprise we're doing for our friend." you blurt, smile plastered on your face despite the situation.

even if in a burning building, if peter was there you were sure you would be the happiest person alive.

his eyes are deep, and his cheeks flushed red in the perfect way. you look down to find he's dressed in just a sweater and jeans, as if it would be enough.

"oh, cool! could I help-"

"aren't you cold, peter?" you interrupt him.

you feel a nudge against your side, and look to see your best friend with her bottom lip between her teeth trying not to burst out laughing.

"uhm- well yeah... I really should've listened to my aunt may." he mutters awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

"y/n has really warm hands!" she blurts and rips your glove off, pulling yours and peters hands together.

if your heart not beating for 20 seconds straight wasn't possible, it was now. you truly weren't even sure you were alive in the moment.

but his hand never let go of yours, in fact he started walking after your best friend and intertwined them.

you dragged after him, trying to hide your expression, and his not visible until you leaned forward.

"um- sorry for her... she really doesn't have any self control." you tried to stutter out.

"no!" he interrupts. "sorry-"

your best friend stayed enough ahead of you to provide privacy as you kept walking to your class.

"your hands are warm- and I really did wanna hold your hand." he mumbles the last part but you still hear it, his grip noticably tightening against yours.

your smile is inevitable as you feel the butterflies erupt all over your body, almost feeling sick to your stomach. there's no way this was happening.

after not getting an answer he turns to you in curiosity, slightly slowing down to a halt.

"...y/n?"

you snap from your trance and find yourself staring into his eyes, darting between them and his lips.

"uh- sorry. I just really cannot believe this is happening."

he stops in his tracks to look down at you with his eyebrows raised.

"what do you mean?" he quizzes, grabbing your other hand in his.

you look to the side of you to see your best friend had gone inside to give privacy to the two of you, and luckily you still had time before you had to get to class.

"you know what I mean, Pete."

his smile widens impossibly further while he leans down to kiss your forehead.

"I do know what you mean." he smiles down innocently despite the mischievous glare behind his eyes.

"of course." you roll your eyes and keep walking, your hand interlaced within peter's.

"you know I'm just messing with you, [ n/n ]." he jokes, gently pushing his shoulder into yours.

"and my feelings were oh so hurt."

his laugh sends straight to your heart, speeding it up more than you thought possible.

even as the cold air nipped at your skin and your eyes watered you couldn't help but feel at total peace being with peter, especially so close to one another more than just physically.

#x reader #marvel #avengers #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #spider man #spiderman #spiderman x reader

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corvidfeathers · 2 years

Text

saints’ own luck

It’s Stavros waiting outside Aikaterina’s dressing room, not Pallas. In the thick dim of the hallway, his eyes shine like a corpse’s, dark and glassy.

“Where’s Hotspur?” Aikaterina says.

“I sent her away.” Stavros gives a casual flick of his hand. “I wanted to speak with you.”

“Keep dismissing my lovers and someone will get the wrong idea,” Aikaterina says, annoyance sharpening her tone. She steps back, and he slips easily into the dressing room.

Lieutenant Pallas might whisper litanies into Aikat’s skin, but she worshiped her squadron commander. He may be half the city’s saint, painted up on walls and worshiped from afar; but Pallas is up in the air with him every time the sirens wail, and will be until she dies. He’s her idol because she knows.

Aikaterina knows, too; a different kind of knowing. She’s never truly flown, after all, but if she focuses, there’s a part of her soul that could buckle a flightsuit in the dark, can always taste engine oil on her cracked lips.

That’s what one got for fucking with magic.

“She’ll be back,” Stavros says. “Not so sporting, the way you toy with them, Ivor.”

“Sporting?” Aikaterina looks at him askance. “You’re one to talk of that.”

He laughs, entirely unapologetic.

“I’m her luck token,” Aikaterina says, turning back to her mirror and daubing her at makeup. Irritating, to have put in all this work just to have Pallas sent away. “Touch my hair, and you won’t die to the fire, your pilots say.”

“Oh?” He steps closer, and reaches up a hand, tentative. “For luck?”

In the cracks of the dressing room mirror, he comes apart; a wraith of smudged-eyeshadow-smoke and charred bone.

“You don’t need it,” she says, grabbing his wrist. He’s bones and flesh, not holy light; her fingers curl against the pulse point under his wrist, feeling the unhurried beat of his heart. “You’ve always had the Saints’ own luck.”’

A little Aikaterina and Stavros-centric snippet from me and @agarthanguide‘s Facsimile project! I was digging through short stories I have drafted and liked this snippet from a larger story exploring Aikaterina’s relationship with gender and gender in the Facsimile universe in general.

#catching bullets in our teeth #facsimile #my writing

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forlorn-crows · 5 months

Note

Crow!

I have a question...questions? Request? Maybe a little bit of both...?

I am a (relative) newcomer to the fandom, I've been hyper-focused on Ghost for the last year and my heart's completely, irreparably and quite blissfully gone on all of the Era IV Ghouls (Phantom and Aurora included), but, in particular, on our beloved Earth Ghoul Mountain (Mmmmmountain...💕)

HOWEVER, recently, I've begun trying to learn more about the previous era's Ghouls, and although I already have a growing appreciation for Omega, there's another that I find myself circling back to again and again and again...

...Zephyr.

Unfortunately, there seems to be a distressingly small amount of information on him in terms of HC's and fandom lore which really does make it harder to get a feel for his character and personality, so, I was wondering if you could help with that.

How do you see him in your head?

What is he like?

Who is he to you?

Please help me add a tenth Ghoul to the nine I already love...

hi, welcome!

ive got lots of headcanons about them so i'd love to go through some of those for you. i'll drop some great zephyr photos first and then we'll continue under the cut :3

firstly, i cant tell you where the name zephyr originated. maybe fanfiction or other fan circles. zephyr is more commonly known as "chAir", because they were almost always sitting down to play. sort of like cowbell is named after the instrument he appeared for two seconds to play lmao

you'll notice i use they/them pronouns for zeph. thats something i picked up from @gayrickgrimes when i first started interacting more with ghost fanfic. but lots of people also use he/him. not sure why nonbinary zeph has really stuck with me since then, but i quite enjoy it!

i would say the most commonly shared headcanons about zephyr are as follows:

older in age, like omega or alpha often are portrayed

has chronic back and/or joint pain (there's lots of clips of them walking off stage holding their back, thus the headcanon)

has light or white hair, commonly portrayed as longish and wavy.

reserved. maybe a little "old mannish" at times. less spontaneous than other ghouls.

however! they like groovin' on stage. can be seen doing some wiggles during their keytar solo or jamming out on their stool.

some artistic portrayals i love are @endopyre's, @turbodrawn's, and @kamonart's :3 also for a portrayal that doesnt necessarily fit those 'common' appearance hc's above is @joeynihil's zeph, whom i LOVEEE.

i also love @divine-misfortune's depictions of them, but i have indeed given void the zephyr brainrot soooo....oopsies sorry not sorry.

so, now onto the things i specifically headcanon about zephyr. i dont know if youve read any of my ficlets with them yet, but i do have a few! generally, i hc pretty similar to the above bullet points. some other thoughts i have are as follows:

i think zeph has a more antiquated way of speaking. doesnt use a lot of slang or 'modern' words. is very precise, refined in the way that they speak.

very amicable with and well-loved by their pack (aether, ifrit, dew, mountain).

has an 'air' about them, if you will (pardon the pun haha). some may say its too much like they're looking down their nose at you, but i think they're clever, smooth, and teasing in equal measure. has a way with words, in more ways than one.

they really do like to have fun on stage, and i think they like to 'let loose' a little bit that way. that ghoul can groove and move when they want to! and i do enjoy watching ritual footage of them, would recommend <3

not sure if you're interested in unglamoured hc's, but i think they turn very gangly, resembling something like a vulture or other long-legged birds. taloned feet and hands. hocked legs. feathers sticking out behind their ears and tattered, crooked wings. bright eyes that glow in the dark and can see for miles. razor sharp teeth. literally terrifying if you catch them peering at you from high in the trees.

likes when the others offer to help with their back pains. ifrit with his warm hands. aether with his quintessence. maybe mountain with weed or dew taking them to the lake to take some weight of their joints. always very kind, thankful in return.

i think the abbey has a chapel with an organ that zeph likes to play. i think that's what they learned on originally, and transferred that knowledge to the keyboard. when they retired from the band they still enjoyed playing for midnight mass or special occasions.

lastly, i think zeph is a quiet dom. very controlled of a ghoul in normal situations, but very good at controlling and directing others. has a silver tongue and can absolutely take mountain down to studs with just words. i have many feelings about mountzeph in general, and how their dynamic works, which ive explored a little bit. but in general, i think zeph likes to have that control, either because they have pain that doesnt allow them the freedom to explore certain pleasures, and/or because thats what they like. its natural and fun for them. and its certainly fun for everyone else involved lmao. i just think of them as a very elegant ghoul in all aspects of their life.

all in all, im very fond of zephyr as a character, at least how i see them in my head and how i've seen them portrayed by others thus far! hopefully that can serve as some inspiration for you in 'getting to know' this air ghoul :3

#ask #anon #zephyr ghoul #ghoul headcanons #please check out the tagged creators as well!!

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rhymingteelookatme · 4 days

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So I just read The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton thanks to @contact-guy’s FANTASTIC illustration/spin on it and like. My god. I have a friend irl who is also big into Sherlock (has been since childhood) and he advised me that Watson does many Gay Actions in the story. It was even better than I hoped.

Gay Actions taken under the cut.

-Nearly clobbers Milverton with a chair at end of the initial scene in 221B (was it in hopes of going through the pocketbook to be absolutely sure the client’s letters weren’t there? unclear. but for sure it was out of frustration on Holmes’s behalf) -Threatens to go straight to the cops unless Holmes lets him come along on the burgling scheme so he can protect his mans -Is incredibly quick to fabricate black silk eye masks for the two of them to go burgling in -Gets led by the hand when they enter the house since Holmes is the one who’s practiced seeing in the dark :3 -Uses such lingering phrasing re Holmes “putting his lips to [Watson’s] very ear” so as to whisper to him in the study :3333 -“Thrill[s] with a keener zest” at defying the law; see also “I rejoiced and exulted in our dangers.” Watson has always wanted to be gay and do crime -Is going to be Such a Good Watchdog when Holmes tells him to stay by the door and listen for anyone approaching, and to bolt it if anyone does -Promptly forgets these instructions in favor of watching Holmes start safecracking “[w]ith a glow of admiration” -Hides w Holmes behind the curtains when H hears Milverton coming... and watches events through careful gap, shoulder to shoulder w Holmes -Instantly perfectly interprets Holmes’s “cold, strong grasp” on his wrist to mean don’t do shit, Milverton deserves every bullet -Watches Holmes burn all the blackmail letters with what I just know is gritted-teeth grim satisfaction -Has to kick free of a hand catching his ankle whilst booking it over the wall of the grounds after Holmes -Maintains a completely bland, unaffected face when Lestrade comes round in the morning to a) report H&W’s own crimes and b) give a description... of Watson

Absolute delight of a tale. I await all further illustrations with great anticipation.

#Sherlock Holmes #The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton #Dr. Watson #love love love

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sweet-sunshine99 · 2 years

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What makes you beautiful? What do people find beautiful about you? ✨🪐⚡️

What makes you beautiful? Pick any pile you feel drawn to, if you'd like you can pick multiple piles. Piles start from left to right, venus being pile one and saturn being pile three.

Disclaimer: The following is for entertainment purposes, always put your own logic and intuition before any pick-a-card reading. If it doesn't resonate, it's not for you.

Pile 1 💕

For your physical traits people love your legs, this sounds strange but your calves might be thick or fatty maybe even muscular. Omg guys u r stunning 🥵 ppl might randomly stare at your butt when you're not looking, you could even catch people sometimes. Most of you have a curvy figure, lots of you have a hourglass or pear shape body. You might have silly quirks or silly behaviors like fidgeting or doing unusual compulsions, people think this is cute lol and it is.

For your deeper, more emotional and mental beauty you are very mature for your age, people might have called you an old soul growing up. You won't tolerate toxicity or abuse to any extent, you're smart and you're good at reading people. There may have been moments where you have called people out on their mind games/lies/manipulation straight to their face and I can tell you that these people know you see right through them. They know you understand their shadow for what it truly is. People feel understood by you and when someone has negative intent toward you this can make them feel a bit tense. You radiate powerful vibes yessss

Things that might resonate:

Cinderella, chinese food, halloween, goth, e boy/e girl candy, the word "juicy", crooked teeth, pinching/being pinched, dolls, computer room, library, cotton candy, strawberry milkshake, grey/silver

Placements that might resonate:

Aries moon/rising/venus, taurus placements, gemini and cancer sun

Pile 2 ⚡️

For your physical traits omg your LIPS. They look soft and plump even if they're not necessarily big. They actually look kissable, passionately red or pink. You probably have really clean nails and you take care of them really well. Some of you use a lot of blush and I promise it looks cute!! keep doing what makes you happy!!! I'm getting that your eyes and your eye color to be more specific is really attractive to people. it doesn't matter the color, something about it is very pretty and the color pops. It somehow matches your aesthetic.

For your inner, spiritual, mental, and emotional beauty I think you guys are very artistic. You might secretly be into some form of art and when people finally find this out they end up being surprised by how beautiful and creative your art is, how talented you can be. Your art is unique and original. For some of you your art may not even be art, for example your "art" could be your career, a hobby, a belief system, a form of self expression, something that fills you with passion that lasts a lifetime. You stay calm and collected, your presence isn't awkward and immediately you seem very confident in yourself. I guess you could be a bit intimidating, people are generally avoidant of making you upset or crossing your boundaries because they feel like you're the type to do something about it. Okay but I still feel that you guys are pretty gentle, a little soft sometimes. We all have our bad days but usually you're pretty polite, kind, and friendly. You are very calming to be around and you naturally take on this guiding sometimes motherly role, even if you don't notice people tend to view you as someone that has been through a lot. They think you know enough about life to help with theirs.

Things that might resonate:

Red hair, receiving a diagnosis, bullets, arrows, salads, healthy eating, healthy food, the color orange, black cat, lotion/moisturizer, moose, petting a cat, twirling, the color green, ducks, pie, piercings, pink flowers, cherries, kisses, pale skin

Placements that might resonate:

Capricorn moon, taurus placements + taurus 5H, virgo placements, gemini venus/mars

Pile 3 🪐

For your physical traits you have attractive shoulders and collar bones. sharp jawline. You might wear showy/expensive/good jewelry. Your eyes are magnetic, your gaze is addictive. There is so much emotion in your eye, you could deceive anyone with your stare. Making eye contact with you feels like heaven for a moment to many people you meet. Your bone structure is well sculpted. Your face is perfect, so many people fight over which type of body is the most attractive. People put so much emphasis on how much someone has, what they have, and where they have it but with you, that doesn't cross anyones mind. This is not to say that your body isn't as attractive as your face, but that people don't care if you're thick, curvy, thin, fit. You're just an attractive person.

For your inner, mental, and spiritual beauty you're fun. You always have a joke to make and you make people laugh when they're feeling down. You make one bad day just a little easier to tolerate and people love that. You're good with words, you can be a bit detached but overall you get along with people. People love that you know how to make a lot out of nothing, you know how to create something big out of something little. You look at every detail in a situation and you know how to use all of the small pieces to make something better.

Thing that might resonate:

The color yellow, the color green, stones, lighting something on fire, sweaters, pink fruit, orange stripes, ring lights, led lights, poetry, 3 am, cinnamon, cactus, taking care of a plant

Placements that might resonate:

Aquarius placements, pisces moon, virgo stellium, gemini/virgo/mercury in 8H

#astro observations #astro notes #astrology #pick a card #spirituality #tarot #tarot reading #energy reading #gemini #aries

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mjanelupinblack · 5 months

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I don’t understand but I luv u (minghao x reader) PT1 ✨

Summary:

Where you are eternally in love with Minghao but your friendship with Mingyu prevents you from doing anything to have him.

Where a deep hole pierces your heart and there’s no way to fill it except for the touch of another lonely soul.

Pairings: Minghao x Reader / Mingyu x Reader (for now, this will get messy)

"Was it so difficult to stay quiet?" Mingyu complains, having run out of paper balls to throw. He's annoyed because, if it weren't for Hansol's suggestion, they could have left school ten minutes ago.

Mingyu is right, at least for the rest of my classmates who yawn and stretch in their seats, their school supplies put away, eager to go home. For me, those ten lost minutes are a free ticket to dream without restraint. Mingyu realizes this when I nod absentmindedly in response to his comment, completely unaware of what he said, as I'm more focused on the pristine strands of Minghao's golden hair. In the sapphire streaks that peek out amidst his straight hair, like a cascade of freshly cut lupines, fresh and ready to be arranged into a bouquet.

Minghao fixes a mischievous strand of hair and sighs, reclining in his seat with crossed arms. He appears attentive to Hansol's contributions until a wet paper ball hits his neck, and my heart skips a beat as he touches the spot.

He turns to smile at Mingyu, who doesn't respond to his friendly gesture. From that moment on, the world never returns to its course.

Mingyu and Minghao are friends. Not as close as to laugh together until their stomachs hurt or as loyal as to offer to catch a bullet with their chests for each other, but they exchange a word or two when necessary. They met at the beginning of high school, long before I entered the school to disrupt the already established dynamics of that classroom. It's not necessary to look closely to realize that they are very different, like the front and back of a coin, designed with their own peculiarities and destined never to meet. The sun and the moon. Heat and coolness. Mingyu's skin is chocolaty and melts with the warmth of his temperament. I've never touched Minghao's skin, but I imagine it shares the color and qualities of porcelain, like grabbing a snowball in your hands and trying to melt it with your body heat, but the snow is colder and ends up freezing your skin. Perhaps that's why interacting with Mingyu flows so naturally, like water, while just the sight of Minghao makes my teeth chatter and sends me seeking refuge by the fire.

I like his ethereal aura, like a dragonfly impossible to catch because his soul is free, and the wind supports it. So, all that's left is to watch him fly. Watch him touch the sky. Watch when I leave the classroom to go to the bathroom and casually pass by the practice room. I see him stretch his body like a dancer from those fairy tales. He seems even more flexible than them. Because Minghao is not from this world, but the world could be his.

"Are you coming?" Mingyu asks while Hao engages in a heated conversation with Wonwoo about why Tottenham Hotspur doesn't need Harry Kane to win.

Mingyu knows the answer to his question.

"Are you still afraid to share space with Minghao?" he insists. "He's human. Flesh and bone. He doesn't bite, unless..."

He mocks me. He refuses to let go of my infatuation with Hao, so he makes jokes, falls silent when they're not funny, and eventually changes the subject to avoid poking at the wound. He teases me about the blush on my cheeks. It's intense, like two freshly picked apples from a tree. He also teases me about my racing heart and my limited ability to take it out of my chest and carry it like an accessory in my hand.

For him, using his heart on his sleeve is so easy.

III

Gyu shares a peach with me that had been waiting its turn in his backpack among all the fruits. Flavors burst in our stomachs, like two hungry fugitives who devour and can't do anything else. Both of us have juices running down the corners of our mouths; juices that we absorb with our tongues and wipe away with the back of our hands. We end up with sticky fingers. He cleans one hand on his pants and offers me his earbud with the other to start our Friday afternoon ritual. I don't particularly like the song he plays, but I refrain from making comments as I gaze at the vastness of the sky. Not a single cloud disturbs its majesty. Only the seagulls do, gliding far away from our bench.

My eyes are tired. And my mind even more so because, every time I close my eyes, they replay the stretched silhouette of Minghao, as if trying to touch the ceiling with the tips of his fingers. His form seems to be carved on my eyelids. Engraved in every nook and cranny, despite the darkness. This time, I don't close my eyes, but the image presents itself to me almost as involuntarily as when I replay it in my head. Maybe because he is there this time, in reality. And from his lips, my name slips out with a sweetness like that of the peach I just nibbled.

"Wonu told me we're neighbors," he spits out what I've been hiding so easily, as if counting on with his fingers. "I wanted to offer to walk you home. To make it safer."

"Ha! Safer?" Mingyu asks. "She's a black belt in Jiujitsu."

Minghao seems surprised. Behind the clear glass of his glasses, he opens his eyes wide, as if asking me if it's true. An admiration I always longed to receive and that hurts even more deeply when it comes from him.

How much more interesting would it be if that were true, if I had already achieved the black belt a long time ago. How much more interesting would it be if I soared through the air and stretched myself like a fairy made of plastic bones. If I did things faster, if I didn't mind taking my time. If his kind gaze didn't terrify me and if words flowed like a river when he stood in fronto of me like a mountain.

Yes, we're neighbors. Yes, I would love for you to accompany me, and no, I'm not a black belt in Jiujitsu, but I would like to be one in another, more interesting life.

"We'll walk together after class," Mingyu replies because I'm frozen. He peels a mandarin without paying more attention to the matter. He didn't expect a different outcome. "Thanks for the offer."

Hao says goodbye. My mouth closes in an empty smile, licks the air, loses all its meaning after Hao leaves, and Mingyu changes the song to a more melodious one.

He seems at peace. Mingyu is the solace of silence; someone who speaks for you when your tongue is tied. He is the sigh of relief after smelling a vanilla-scented candle when you thought your lungs couldn't stretch any further.

He feels comfortable.

And Minghao walks down the street without a drop of tranquility to ease my thirst.

We head to the arcade; a playground for kids, a step into the casino for young adults. There are machines that make noise, scream, and cry with something akin to fun. Fun and joy go hand in hand, but I'm not sure they're the same thing. As we enter, we find Wonu sitting in a flight simulator. He shoots innocent civilians who will respawn as soon as he drops the game and start playing Just Dance.

"Yah! We told you to wait for us at the entrance," Mingyu complains, grabbing the monstrous headphones surrounding Wonwoo's head and shouting right into his ears.

"Yah!" Wonu imitates him. He tries to save the game, but the civilians escape like cockroaches and a tank breaks one of his airplane’s wings. "I waited at the entrance for twenty minutes!"

Wonu tries to be aggressive, but his shouts don't even tickle Mingyu's ears.

"Well, we arrived five minutes late!"

A woman looks at them as a librarian would. She asks for silence with a furrowed brow, even though they're in the palace of teenage chaos. In fact, that's the bait. With her disdainful humor, she makes Gyu look her in the eyes, his eyes wandering on the curves of her mature body. I wonder if I look equally exposed, equally filled with lust when I watch Minghao's slender body stretch. Or maybe I put on the same long face as Wonu, humiliated and disappointed when Gyu leaves us to talk to the stranger.

"It's just you and me," I say, trying to cheer him up. "How about Just Dance?"

"She could literally kidnap him."

"Maybe Mario Kart?"

"How old do you think she is? Do you even think they let her in here?"

"We can play bowling, basketball..."

He condemns me with a murderous look. One that was originally created for Mingyu, the guy who breaks his heart in every chance he gets. Wonu notices his terrible way of confusing emotions; of always directing them to the wrong people, and his gaze softens.

"I feel like punching a wall."

"Well then, Street Fighter it is!"

We never talk about Wonwoo's feelings. Not because we don't try, but because every time we think about it, a strange phenomenon occurs; his face tenses up as if he can feel our thoughts like a cold breeze. When emotions are too strong, it's better to keep them locked up. To refuse to open the Pandora's box unless the other person approaches, pulling their demons by the tail. Otherwise, they often reject the help and mistake it for condescension.

Stubborn. That's a word that fits both of them like a glove.

We go from Street Fighter to Just Dance. I let Wonu be aggressive in the first one, winning without soul. After all, he'll be too distracted to beat me in Just Dance, and if the tiebreaker game is about physical skill, my body will be more activated than his, with adrenaline still coursing through my veins.

As expected, I win. Much to my chagrin, the third game is not about physical but mental skill. The claw machine stands before me like a monster.

"The first one to get a plushie wins."

"I don't have money to play this."

"I'll pay, are you scared?"

In fact, I'm scared. Not scared of losing per se; what I fear are the emotions that torment me after each failure. I know Wonu fears the same thing. Maybe that's why we can compete against each other. Because the loser limits himself to buy the ice cream and the rest of the ride proceeds in silence. No jokes. No teasing or stirring what doesn't need to be touched.

"You go first."

Wonwoo almost wins on his first try. I try and try, but the teddy bear, the caterpillar, and the penguin slip away from the claw. Half an hour goes by without either of us getting close to winning.

"I need to go to the restroom," Wonwoo announces.

"Don't cheat!" I shout as he leaves.

"How can I cheat from there?!"

I try to take a break. Then I realize how difficult it is to soothe a hungry spirit. I try to find logical combinations, intelligent ways to cheat, but nothing works. I end up leaning against the plushie machine, watching Gyu from a safe distance; the woman he spent the last hour with looks much younger under the new light. Different from the initial stupor. My friend is helping her redirect the bowling ball towards the pins, but there seems to be much more behind that innocent gesture.

I imagine myself being held the same way; firmly, embraced by strong and affectionate arms. I get lost in a daydream where my friend laughs in my ear, tickling my neck with his breath. I would never dare to flirt with Mingyu, but my chest begins to feel bland. I think Gyu has spent enough time with this girl whom he will never see again once he gets bored. Two hours earlier, he had his fingers in my mouth, feeding me tangerine slices as if I were a little bird in need of care. She will find something better. But what do I have?

"You should align the hook with that puppy's ear," a calm voice says.

"That's what I'm trying to do," I reply. "Do you mean this one?"

Minghao shakes his head. He approaches and taps the glass three times.

"This one here."

I'm still wearing my school uniform, sweating the same sweat I've been dripping for hours. In contrast, Minghao wears tight-fitting pants that cling to his skin. His scent is so strong that I hope the particles find their way into my body and imprint it forever.

I speak before thinking, and I realize that's the only thing that allowed my voice to remain steady.

Next step, Hao inserts a coin. His hair falls loose over his ears. He manipulates the claw machine and it obeys him as if he was God himself. The claw drops, rests on the puppy's hairy ear, and rises again. His once empty hands now hand me the plushie.

"Thank you," I manage to respond. I appreciate my upbringing's politeness.

"It's nothing. I saw you both struggling to get it."

"Yes... We were having a little competition, actually."

"For the plushie?"

I have a feeling that it finally happened. It happened, and I responded with the wrong thing because going to an arcade and having a competition to win a plushie from the claw machine is such a childish thing to do when you're seventeen. I reply with a yes; it was a competition for the plushie, and I hug the puppy as if Minghao were about to snatch it from my hands. As if it were a test, and I had failed.

"Then you won."

"No, he'll know you got it."

"I'll leave right away. And I won't say anything to him."

God sets the rules. He determines what's right and wrong, what should be said, and what should remain hidden. Now, he's playing the Devil's game, taking the same things he said were wrong and making them right.

"Were you expecting someone?" I ask, aware of the gradual but sure crumbling of my morality.

My question seems to be the equivalent of his statement. It bothers him because no one dares to ask questions to a God who doesn't have time to give answers.

"My partner."

"A man?"

Hao nods.

"Actually, it's just my date."

He glances at his watch and makes a gesture indicating it's time to go. Before his departure, I can already see him disappear; become transparent and revealing that everything was a projection of my most cherished desire until then: to have a conversation with him.

But the plushie remains heavy in my arms. And it looks at me with the vital gaze of a living creature.

When Wonwoo arrives, I hand him the puppy.

"I won," it hurts to say that. It's a lie, and I think my friend notices it.

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #minghao x reader #mingyu x reader #seventeen the8 #minghao fluff #highschool au #seventeen imagines

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thedeafprophet · 5 months

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Despite all my rage: A playlist for Alexander Hastings, The Vitriolic Thief

Criminal, thief, arsonist. Light Fingers PC

Track list and lyric highlights under the cut

City Life - Redlight King

"Just another day in the city life Just another day where we live or die We're all prayin' through the smoke filled sky"

2. Catch Me If You Can - Set It Off

"I only feel at home when I'm on the run I only open doors just to pick the locks Too busy throwing stones at your fragile thoughts"

3. Play Dirty - Kevin Mcallister

"If you wanna go, this is how it goes If you wanna roll, heads are gonna roll If you wanna play, we can play all day But we play, play dirty, play dirty"

4. Volatile Times -IAMX

"Goodbye my friends Goodbye to the money Adieu to the fuckers that think that it's funny I just want to turn the lights on in these volatile times"

5. Bullet With Butterfly Wings - Tribe Society

"Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage Someone will say, "What is lost can never be saved"

6. The Hand That Feeds

"My papa taught me how to howl How to bare my teeth and growl He taught me that the hand that feeds Deserves to be bitten when it beats"

7. Arsonist's Lullaby - Hozier

"When I was a child, I'd sit for hours Staring into open flame, something in it had a power Could barely tear my eyes away"

8. Searching For A Devil - In The Valley Below

"Well if you're hoping for a free ride Hell there's room in mine And we can love for the sake of the little one And his hazel eyes"

9. Reminders - Radical Face

"I wish I had more nice things to say But I was raised not to lie I'm either honest, or I'm an optimist But never both at the same time"

10. To Be Alone - Hozier

"I know that you hate this place Not a trace of me would argue Honey, we should run away, oh, someday Our baby and her momma and the damaged love she made"

11. Me And Mine - The Brothers Right

"I will burn your kingdom down If you try to conquer me and mine"

12. Beautiful Crime - Tamer

"We fight every night for something When the sun sets, we're both the same Half in the shadows Half burned in flames"

#alas. i have one playlist cover art done lol #fallen london #fallen london oc #oc: alex #playlist #light fingers #the later half of the playlist leans more into that aspect #youll tell if u play the songs lol #my art #Spotify

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lostgirl677 · 9 months

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Let me be your hero

One-shot

Masterlist

Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: After a failed hunt, Y/N has to help Dean out of his bad habits.

TW: A bit violent, bad description at times, bad writing. Mention of alcohol

We didn’t have a minute to waste. The group of three werewolves that terrorized Wichita during that lunar cycle was about to kill again tonight. We found their hiding place in the forest a few hours ago. We were now driving as fast as we could under the night sky. As we grew nearer to our destination, I began to notice out of the corner of my eyes that something fast was moving in the bushes. “Dean?” The brothers both looked at me at my worried tone. “Yeah?” said Dean. “I think something is…” but I didn’t have the time to finish my sentence. A werewolf jumped out to run beside the car and clawed the door ,managing to puncture the front tire. “Son of a bitch!” screamed Dean as he hit the brakes, pushing us all hard forward. We didn't have the time to fix it. So we got out of the car fast and grabbed our weapons. We now had to run out in the woods to try to catch them.

The woods seemed thicker by night. We were so focused that none of us uttered a word. We just kept running. That flat tire could cost lives if we didn’t hurry. And we had lost precious time already. “Here’s the big oak, we’re not far.” said Sam, finally breaking the silence. Dean and I both grunted to answer him. We were at a fast pace, but the screams we heard made us run even faster. A few meters away, we could see two werewolves circling three kids. I got my gun ready, knowing the third one couldn’t be far away. As we got closer, we could see two of the kids clutching their bloodied neck and arm while the smallest tried to hide. “Get off me, fucker!” I heard Dean scream behind me. I turned my head, and saw that the third werewolf had jumped on him and tried to tackle him on the ground. As much as I wanted to help Dean, I knew that the lives of those kids now depended on Sam and me. As we ran, I glanced at Sam and he understood what I had in mind. One of the werewolves was standing still enough for me to try and shoot it in the back. The detonation of my gun was loud but not louder than the screams of the kids. The wounded werewolf wailed in pain. As expected, both werewolves turned their heads to look at me, baring their sharp teeth.

As they lunged at me, Sam took advantage of this diversion to attempt to get the kids out of there. But one of the werewolves seemed to understand our plan and jumped at Sam. Unfortunately, the werewolf was faster than him. Sam then got caught in the fight with me. I tried to kick the werewolf with all my strength, but it was useless. Thankfully, I didn’t end up on the ground. However, staying on both my feet was getting harder and harder by the second. The werewolf I injured had quickly regained his strength despite the silver bullets. Sam wasn’t any luckier. He was fighting the werewolf with all his might. But it seemed in vain.

I always found it weird that a fight seems fast when seen from the outside but can feel like an eternity when you are involved.Whilst dodging punches, I tried to reach my silver blade in my side pocket. I managed to stab my attacker near the hip. The monster lost its grip on me but threw me its claws. I barely had the time to jump back and landed on something metallic. My gun that fell when I got attacked. I lost my balance and almost fell. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Sam finally overpowering his werewolf. I truly hoped that Dean was doing good. And also that the kids had enough sense to hide themselves.I heard gunshots and grunts in the back, indicating Dean was still fighting. My head was almost spinning. But I had to keep fighting. When my hand reached the gun, the werewolf kicked it out of my reach and was about to attack me again. I threw myself completely on the ground and rolled to avoid it. I heard again a few shots in the back and an animal scream. “That one is for Baby!” said Dean, standing upright this time while shooting again.

Sam kicked the werewolf to the ground and stabbed it with his silver blade. But it seemed in a feisty mood and tried to bite Sam’s leg. For my part, it was getting critical. This one seemed to be stronger than the others. I heard more gunshots and screams around. I could see from afar Dean helping Sam off of the ground. Probably seeing that my position wasn’t ideal, I saw them running toward me. But I knew that the werewolf was readying itself to finish me off. So, even without weapons, I tried to fight to the end. I jumped to push the werewolf as hard as I could. The monster was so surprised that it miraculously worked.

But it regained its footing quickly and decided to throw itself at Dean, who just arrived. He didn’t have the time to shoot it. It definitely aimed for the face. Dean fought back as best as he could but was losing his pace. Sam tried to stab it but it didn’t stop it. Instead, the werewolf sent the blade flying. While Sam tried to fight as well I was searching frantically on the ground. Sam was roughly pushed. I finally took hold of a gun. They were moving so fast that I was afraid to kill Dean rather than the werewolf. Sam jumped again into the scene and managed to get it away from Dean.I was scared but there wasn’t anymore time to waste. I aimed at the head and shot. Blood sprayed everywhere on me and the werewolf dropped dead on the floor. Both Dean and Sam ran toward me. “You okay?” I asked them. They had cuts on their faces but it didn’t seem worse than that. But before they could answer me, we heard a blood curdling scream.

We were running as fast as we could and nothing could have prepared us for the scene that awaited us. The youngest kid was on the ground, almost convulsing as his chest was ripped open, revealing his ribcage.The oldest kids had turned into werewolves and were ripping his heart out. As their victim breathed for the last time in a horrifying scream, they turned their heads toward us with their mouths covered in blood. We were speechless. Dean looked at us. There wasn’t any cure for lycanthropy. I looked at Sam and Dean. We all nodded. He sighed, closed his eyes for a split second. “I’m really sorry. There’s nothing we can do.” he said. He then aimed at their heads and shot twice. They both fell dead on the ground. I could swear that I saw a tear tracing its way down his cheek.

The beauty of this full moon night couldn’t lessen the horror of the scene before our eyes. Dead, all of them. Monsters and their victims alike.The pool of blood shined under the moonlight, and the stillness only increased the heaviness of the situation.This hunt was a complete disaster, to say the least. To summarize the events of the night: one of the werewolves punctured a tire causing us to arrive too late to save those poor children. The youngest had his heart ripped out by the older ones who were already infected by lycanthropy. We had no other choice but to kill them. The only sound which broke this deafening quietness was our ragged breath.The brothers and I were covered in blood. We stayed there for a bit, stunned.

We got back to the car in silence. Dean made his way to the trunk to get the spare tire and began to work on it. I could hear him mutter from time to time. Sam and I both knew that even though we all messed up, Dean took it as his own fault. Sam had the same defeated expression as me. As I heard Dean swear under his breath, I decided to join him to maybe offer my help. “Need some help? Maybe I could hold the flashlight?” He lifted his head, the flashlight illuminated his face and I saw utter despair in his green irises. He just nodded while handing me the flashlight. I decided against a chit chat as I knew that he wouldn’t be in the mood. It took around an hour to change the tire. Words were barely exchanged. When we were done, we headed to the bunker. The drive was dead silent, which made it even longer.

When we arrived at the bunker, a silent Dean basically disappeared. Sam and I exchanged a concerned look.This silence was always scary when it was coming from Dean. I wanted to go after him, to not let him alone. But Sam was there too, so I couldn't leave him. I then sighed, grabbed the first aid kit and said “Okay, let’s take care of your cuts.” Sam threw me a knowing look. “You should go after him. He needs you more than I do right now.” he said with a sad smile. “Thank you Sam. I promise I’ll come back” I told him while running away. I knew exactly Dean’s hiding place when a hunt failed. It was always difficult to get Dean to open up about his feelings.

When I reached the room, it was mostly dark in there but I could spot Dean in the back. As expected, I found him on the floor, staring into space as he was drowning himself in alcohol. Even in this darkness, I still could see the sadness and the guilt painted on his handsome face. “Dean.” I said quietly in hopes of him hearing me. But he ignored me. I approached slowly and sat on the floor in front of him. He didn’t even look at me. He was too busy staring at the wall and some unshed tears made their way out of his eyes. “Dean. Please, look at me.” He gently lowered his bottle and slowly turned his head toward me. But he didn’t say anything. He looked devastated. If I let myself, I could cry with him. But it wouldn’t help any of us. So instead, I took the first aid kit and said “Here, let me take care of your cuts.” He finally opened his mouth to say “ I don’t deserve to be taken care of. Go take care of Sam instead.” He then looked at his empty bottle, threw aside and grabbed another one. But I stopped him before he could open it.

“Dean, it won’t do you any good to drown yourself in alcohol.” He threw a saddened look. “At least it will help me forget and numb me for a while. I don’t see how it could be wrong if it helps me feel a bit better. It’s the last thing I got in those cases. Now, if you will…” he said while taking the bottle in hand. I stared at him in disbelief. What he said shook me. I decided to intervene and snatched the bottle again. “Dean, it’s self harm! I can’t let you do it. It destroys you more than it helps. Now, please let me clean your cuts.” I was between screaming and begging at this point. Anger seemed to overtake him now. “You can’t understand! When I killed those kids, I saw the faces of all the people we couldn’t save. People that I couldn’t save! And still, I shoot them coldblooded in the head! I’m the real monster, Y/N!” I couldn’t help but jump a bit at his harsh tone. He never screamed at me before. But I knew that his anger wasn’t directed at me. Then, anger faded a little in his eyes. “I only cause death, I’m a poison.” he whispered, lowering his head.

I gently put my hand under his chin to make him look at me. “ Dean, I saw the tears you shed when you shot them. You’re not a monster. Don’t you dare say that again. You are a human being, an extraordinary one. This hunt was a collective mess up, not yours solely. Those kids got bitten long before when we arrived. There’s nothing we could have done to help them. We couldn’t let them wander off, killing more people.” I said, while preparing a gauze to clean his wounds. “ Imagine all the lives you saved by killing those tiny werewolves. You did the right thing, believe me. Only a true hero cares this much. And that’s what you are, Dean Winchester. A real hero.” I said while dabbing the gauze on his forehead. His eyes were piercing my soul as a few tears escaped them. I gently wiped them with my thumb, feeling his smooth skin under my finger.

“I don’t judge you about alcohol. I understand and I don’t think any less of you. Many people would have done worse in your situation. But you don't deserve to destroy yourself like that. You deserve the whole world, the moon, the sun, the stars, the whole universe.” I was gently cupping his cheeks and stared at him intently in the eyes. He was speechless. “I get that you don’t see yourself as a hero. I can’t get you to see yourself as such. But then, let me be your hero. The one that will show you how worthy you are, how much good you have in yourself. You just have to let me in, to come to me when you feel bad about yourself. Please, don’t touch these band aid bottles again. I love you way too much to lose you. I love you Dean.” The look on his face was unreadable.I then realized what I just said. I basically confessed my love to Dean. I wanted to run away but he was faster than me. He closed the distance between us and kissed me. I kissed him back without even thinking. His hands were gently running in my hair as mine were caressing his jawline. This kiss was the most passionate I've ever had in my life.

We finally both opened our eyes and looked at each other. I took a breath and said “ Now, promise me, Dean.” He looked at me and said “I promise, Y/N.” He smiled at me and took my hand in his. “And I promise to love you for this life and the next.” He said while kissing my lips. The tears were still staining his cheeks but his smile brightened his face. After a silence where we looked at each other, he took another gauze and began to clean my wounds.” It took a failed hunt to get us together but to this day, nothing could possibly set us apart. Not even death. Two souls who have loved each other can never be set apart” he said, his forehead against mine and his eyes straight in mine.

@hobby27

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