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miniy00ng1 · 27 days

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Not Yours

Five Hargreeves x Female!Reader

wc: 1845

warnings: swearing, fighting, lmk if i missed anything!

find my masterlist here

hiii lovelies! i really enjoyed writing this, i will probably make a part two since the ending isn't really an ending, but i just wanted to get something posted! in this piece i refer to Viktor's character as Vanya since in the series at this time he did not come out yet! as always please ignore any grammar errors, give me feedback, and i hope everyone enjoys! thank you <3

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A bright blue flash appears in the foyer of The Umbrella Academy, from the flash comes the Hargreeves siblings, slowly coming to after being disoriented from time travel. The siblings surround the singular round table in the room, sitting atop the table was a newspaper.

Five Hargreeves, the youngest looking of the group, snatches the paper off the table frantically searching for a date. “Holy shit…I think we did it. It’s April 2nd, 2019, the day after the apocalypse.” Five lets out a dry chuckle, surprised he and his idiot siblings succeeded.

Klaus lets out a cheer of excitement, he rests both arms over the shoulders of his two nearest siblings, pulling them close, “Go team! I mean look at us, we’re so amazing you guys. I think we should celebrate by breaking into Dad’s very special liquor cabinet.” The siblings laugh, all relieved they survived and saved the world, yet again. As the group begins to wander towards the sitting room, Five stops in his tracks–something, no, someone was missing.

Five looks at the bunch ahead of him, he counts their heads once—only five, and then recounts afraid that he’s made an error. He whips his head behind to check for the missing person–his missing person. Five releases a shaky breath he didn’t realize he was holding, panic beginning to set in, “You guys…where’s Y/N?” The siblings immediately become aware to the fact that you were missing.

“Maybe she ended up in another part of the house? We should split up and look for her.” Vanya suggested. The group murmurs in agreement, designating sections of the house for each sibling to search. Before the siblings can break off, something strange catches Diego’s eye, “Hey, why is there a painting of Ben over the mantelpiece?”

The siblings immediately gather around the mantel and stare in confusion at the painting of their dead brother, which was previously a painting of their missing brother. “Shit, that can’t be good…” Five hisses, trying to figure out what was going on. The siblings attention is pulled away from Ben’s painting as a figure abruptly stands up from a nearby chair. The fireplace sheds light on the figures, it was their previously dead father—Reginald Hargreeves.

“Dad, you’re alive.” Luther says softly. The older man scoffs and speaks in his shrill voice, “Why shouldn’t I be? And I am not your father, boy.” The monocled man corrects Luther causing him to furrow his brows in confusion. “What? What’re you talking about? Yes, you are. This is the Umbrella Academy.” Allison questions. “And you would be wrong again. This is not The Umbrella Academy, this is the Sparrow Academy.” As if on cue, six figures appeared near the railing of the balcony in the room.

“Those are my children, The Sparrows. After meeting you lot in the 60s, I was so put off by you that I made it a point not to adopt you, and instead found the others. I was quite successful and adopted eight of them.” Reginald states proudly, his hands behind his back. Another familiar voice grabs the attention of the Umbrella’s, “Dad, who the hell are these assholes in my house?” Ben Hargreeves, formerly dead, but now clearly alive stands before the group. Five squints his eyes at Ben, trying to determine what was off about him. Was it the hair?

“Oh my god! Ben-er-ino is that you? You look so good alive! Well, I mean beside that haircut, but I can look past that. Come give your favorite brother a hug!” Klaus squeals in excitement, approaching Sparrow Ben with his arms wide open. Sparrow Ben meets Klaus with a solid punch to the face. Klaus stumbles back and Luther manages to catch him. “What the hell was that for Ben?” Klaus groans, holding onto his nose.

Five examines the Sparrow siblings, trying to size them up, “You said you got eight. Where is the last one?” Five questions out loud. Suddenly, a small teenage, female figure appears seemingly out of thin air next to Ben. The Umbrella siblings slightly jump at the appearance of another person in front of them before they calm down and realize it’s you. But why are you standing next to Sparrow Ben and why are you wearing a school girl outfit with a sparrow logo on it.

“Y/N?” Five calls out, you tilt your head in response to hearing your name. You squint at Five with confusion, “How the hell does the kid know my name?” You look to Reginald for answers to which he doesn’t provide any. The rest of your siblings join you and Ben in front of the strangers in your home. “I think it’s about time you guys leave.” Marcus states, puffing out his chest. “We’re not going anywhere, this is our house.” Diego replies stalking closer to Marcus. “All right, it looks like we’re going to have to settle this the old fashion way.” Both groups of siblings get into fighting stances, readying themselves to beat the shit out of each other.

You roll your eyes, your siblings have always had a flare for the dramatics and it’s just never been your style. You use your powers–manipulation of your appearance, to make yourself invisible once again. You study the way the young boy immediately looks for your presence, trying to get even the smallest hint of where you’ve gone. As your siblings start to fight with the strangers in your house you sit back to enjoy the show.

Each one of your siblings is matched up and fighting one of the Umbrella Academy siblings and with the way things are going down, you’re betting on the Sparrows. Marcus is clearly winning against Luther and you’re becoming bored watching them hit each other back and forth. You then come across Diego riding around on Christopher asking him repeatedly about “who his daddy is” this makes you giggle. You then make your way into the foyer where you observe two more pairs of siblings fighting.

Something on the table catches your eye. A sleek, black briefcase rests in the middle, you don’t recognize it, but recall that the Umbrella’s first appeared in this room. You snatch the briefcase and decide to keep it, just in case. “Y/N! Come here and look at this freak!” You hear Jayme call your name from the top of the staircase and follow her voice. Once you reach the top of the stairs you make yourself visible and see the teenage boy, who they call Five, making out with the air. “Guess who the little perv is macking on.” Jayme says wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at you.

“Gross Jayme, why do you have to say it like that?” You say scrunching your nose in disgust. “Let me deal with him.” You signal Jayme to go away. The boy is still stuck in his daydream and continues to make out with the air. In order to get him out of the dream state you hit him in the side with the briefcase, knocking him off balance. Five rolls to the floor, shaking his head trying to re-enter reality. Immediately realizing his compromised position he quickly gets to his feet raising his fists but once he realizes it’s you, he drops his arms.

“I’m not going to hit you Y/N. I would never fight with you.” As Five lets his guard down, you use this to your advantage, immediately swinging your body in an attempt to roundhouse kick him in the face. He blinks away, dodging the kick, and appears on the other side of you causing you to stumble back since you missed your target. You prepare to hit him again but he blinks away for the second time, this time right behind you and pressed to your backside. Five’s arms wrap around your body, holding you in place, the briefcase still tightly clutched in your hand.

“Love, stop this. I am not going to fight with you.” Five says through gritted teeth as he holds you arms down to your side. You struggle against his grip trying to wiggle free, “I am not your love.” In that moment you swing your head back hoping to knock into his head but a flash of blue light surrounds you. You’re back in the foyer with Five and a couple of his siblings. “Someone hold onto her and make sure you don’t lose that briefcase. I’ve got to make sure Vanya’s okay and then we’ve got to get the hell out of here.” Five calls out to his siblings, Luther takes over the hold on you as Five blinks away and snatches the briefcase out of your hand. “I will kill you if you don’t let me go you fat gorilla.”

The Hargreeves siblings manage to “win” the fight against your siblings thanks to Vanya’s powers and take you as hostage without the Sparrows noticing. Luther carries you over his shoulder while the group tries to find a place to rest. Once arriving at a nearby park, the siblings sprawl out and complain about their aches and pains. Luther sets you down on a park bench laying his legs over yours to hold you down. “Get off of me you overgrown monkey! Let me go home or I’ll make you regret it!” You say trying to come off as threatening but Luther doesn’t take you seriously. “You know Y/N, you used to be a lot nicer. Now you sound like Five, and he’s an asshole. Here’s a fun idea! Why don’t you go back to being the nice Y/N we all know and love.” Luther sighs, covering his eyes with his arms and ignoring anything else you say or do.

Five sits up straight from the table he’s sitting at, “Luther quick, hand me the briefcase. Maybe I can time travel us back to the correct timeline.” Luther groans at the thought of having to move, he brings his hand to the floor in search of the briefcase to which he finds nothing. Luther lets out an awkward chuckle, “Yeah…about that…I might have dropped it when that blind one was chasing us with her scary birds.” Luther winces in preparation of Five’s wrath. The look on Five’s face turns murderous, “I ask two simple things Luther, that’s it. So simple even a monkey could do it…or maybe not. Keep my wife safe and don’t lose the briefcase. Is it that damn hard!”

You let out a laugh and tune back into the conversation at the mention of yourself, “Not your wife short stuff!” Five’s attention is now back on you, his nostrils flaring in frustration, “Yes Y/N, you have made that painstakingly clear. And you’re certainly not as sweet and loving as my Y/N and you’re annoying as hell. But until I can get my Y/N back, you’ll have to do. Not to mention, you’ll come in handy once the Sparrows realize you’re gone.” Five lets out a breath as an attempt to calm down, “We need a game plan and a place to stay seeing as we don’t have one anymore. Anybody have any ideas?”

part two, part three

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves x female!reader #number five #the umbrella academy #tua #five hargreeves x reader

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ingravinoveritas · 2 months

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Happy Good Omens S2 Anniversary!! 🤍🖤

Ahh, thank you so much, and Happy GO 2 anniversary to you, too! ❤️

It's so strange to think of what was happening one year ago. I was one day away from moving into a new apartment, and GO 2 was the last thing I watched in my old place, where I'd lived for 15 years. My life packed in boxes, world in upheaval, and there was season two as an oasis of calm in the midst of it all.

What made it even more special was getting to watch the season with @thetardisisblueandroseistoo with both of us on the phone at the same time. I didn't have anyone to watch GO season 1 with, or to really share in the fandom with right afterward in 2019, so for both of us to be reacting in real time--the tears, the laughter, and oh, the moments of silence--was such an incredible experience. To feel like I wasn't alone, and that someone else "got it" and had those feelings in tandem meant so much to me, and still does now.

It was also incredible to see the fandom spring to life following the release of season 2, and the new burst of energy and creativity that came along with it. (I regrettably missed out on a lot at least on Facebook, as my FB was hacked two days after season 2 came out, and I only just got it back now, after a year. But I digress...) I've loved seeing the fans from all the different iterations (OG book fans, radio show fans, TV season 1 fans, TV season 2 fans, etc.) commingle and share our collective joy and sorrow at what the Husbands have gone through, and the emotions brought so captivatingly to life thanks to the gorgeous, searing chemistry between Michael and David.

And now here we are awaiting season three and the bittersweet conclusion of our story. Bittersweet not because of whatever the plot itself may be, but because it will be the moment we finally say goodbye to Aziraphale and Crowley. They won't be on our screens, but they will still live on--in the South Downs and in our hearts, in the work we create to honor what this series has given us.

A part of me is looking forward to it and dreading it in equal measure, and yet I know my life will be forever better because of Good Omens and the friends I've made in the fandom. I was in such a different place mentally when I found the show in 2019, and I am so, so grateful that GO came along when I needed it the most. I can't wait to see how the story ends, and to see all the stories we'll keep telling long after.

To the world... 🥂

#phoen1xr0se #reply post #good omens 2 #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #happy GO 2 anniversary!#this was such a nice surprise #love the amazing friends i have made in this fandom #i am so grateful for everyone who enjoys my MS/DT content as well #reflections #thoughts #<3

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fernandopiastri28 · 3 months

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quand c’est - part 6 ~ ln4 x op81

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

Yet now at 24, he feels a shell of that aspiring kid. The one who truly believed he would be a world champion. That dream, the realness of it seems to have fizzled. Not just because of the diagnosis, but because he knows Oscar, he sees Oscar’s raw talent in his second year of racing. He saw it in Oscar’s rookie year too- and he knows he’ll never have that.

Warnings: sickness, illness, cancer

Lando wakes up, and he’s still sick. It’s expected- no one recovers from brain cancer in a matter of hours, but a part of him continues to believe this is some awful nightmare or a really sick joke.

It must’ve been a fair few hours since he’d gotten the news, because it’s already getting dark outside again.

Lando’s blurry vision slowly clears up the more he blinks. He tries his best to sit up, his arms not complying with him- heavy with the weight of being pierced with IVs and drips.

He leans over as best as he could, a slow calculated move. He checks his phone, calls and messages as far as he could see from his family and the other drivers.

Carlos: Landito

Carlos: Landito are you okay?

Carlos: Is Oscar taking care of you?

Carlos: Mierda

Carlos: You are in my thoughts and prayers. It was a bad crash.

Thanks for the reminder Carlos, Lando fucking knew it was an awful crash. An awful crash during an awful race from an awful driver. Just awful.

Daniel: Lando mate r u aluroght?

Daniel: *alright

Daniel: thinkin of u rn mate

Daniel: i hope you’re feeling better

Lando wonders how many people knew he was in the hospital. He wonders if Oscar had been calling anyone else beyond Logan to talk about how Lando was an insane man who had no care for his own health.

Max V: Hello Lando. I hope you are feeling well and are doing okay. Cannot wait to see you in cota you absolute weapon. You’ll be bonzer.

Max V: Daniel taught me that word. I think it is bonzer or bonza. Not sure

Lando smiles at Max’s messages, his body hurting too much to be able to laugh. Clearly the dutch man has been spending far too much with Daniel as his dialect was becoming more like the Australian’s each day.

Max V: Daniel is very worried for you, I am too.

He presses onto his chat with his mum, clicking to call her. He has 12 missed calls from her, no doubt about whether she knew about not only the hospital, but also the diagnosis. Oscar would’ve been on top of that.

It feels nice to hear his mum’s voice on the other end of the call, even if her voice was scratchy and hard to understand from crying. He asks about his sisters and brother, trying to skirt around the elephant in the room.

When the phone call eventually ends, he swipes his hand over Oscar’s mess of hair. It’s no longer that perfect swoop, more like how he remembered it being in Singapore a year ago, stuck to his forehead and falling down with the humidity.

It’s strange to think of anything about Singapore last year now. Strange to think about his first time being on the podium with his best friend. Strange to think about the ice baths with Oscar, playing padel with George, the feeling of being so disgustingly sweaty at the end of the race- but pure adrenaline and joy overpowering that discomfort.

Now he was left rotting away in a hospital bed, unable to do those same simple and ‘mundane’ tasks.

He misses George, for some reason, a lot.

And Alex, he misses the 2019 rookies group. He misses the beginning of his F1 career- where he didn’t have a care in the world and truly believed he was ‘exceptional’ for being at the top category of motor sports at 18.

If there’s going to be a world champion of either of them, It’ll be Oscar, and it kills Lando that he has to be happy for Oscar knowing that.

A nurse comes in every hour on the dot to either give him another round of either medicine or to note down how his body is reacting to the painkillers. To be fair, he does feel relatively good. His head doesn’t hurt, and he doesn’t really feel anything at all.

Oscar wakes up after a while and just sits with him, making some dry jokes in an attempt to make Lando laugh. He doesn’t laugh as much as he usually would, but that’s because he sometimes only catches every second word. He’s sure Oscar’s being pretty funny though, so sometimes he laughs for the sake of ensuring Oscar keeps talking.

Lando has energy for one thing, and one thing only- kissing. Oscar’s wary about that, cautious like a few little pecks are going to absolutely destroy Lando.

To Lando, he has already braced himself for the fact that he’s going to change with the effects of surgery and chemo- mentally and physically. Maybe future Lando won’t want to kiss Oscar as much.

And maybe he’ll get so ugly that Oscar won’t want to kiss Lando either.

But Oscar caves, as he usually does, and it’s so sweet, so perfect. They kiss, and Oscar laughs into Lando’s mouth when he makes a stupid one liner, not funny to anyone other than Oscar, who is the easiest person in the world to make laugh.

Well, when it comes to Lando. Otherwise, Lando takes the cake for that title.

It feels like being a teenager again, or what Lando imagines teenage romance would’ve felt like. He was too busy with F4, F3, F2 and then obviously all the prep for F1 to ever have enough time to consider having a relationship. But being with Oscar, kissing in a hospital room and quickly separating when a doctor or a nurse walks in is just like how it’s described in movies.

Before Oscar, he only dated Luisinha, which besides the off season and some weekends that weren’t race weekends, he’s never really had time with his partner to be like this.

He has as much of Oscar as he wants right now, has all the time in the world to kiss and cuddle and laugh and talk without having a hundred cameras in their faces.

Lando wants to stay like this forever. Forever adoring, forever adored.

After a few days, the doctors rule him ‘well enough’ to be discharged, which isn’t even something Lando thought would happen. Clearly he’s got a lot about brain cancer to research, because he truly believed he’d be permanently hospital bound.

In reality, he’s only leaving to go back to Monaco and have the surgery there. If he had the surgery in Singapore, he’d be stuck there for months. As much as he likes Singapore- it’s not home, and it’s so humid.

The doctors that have been treating him in Singapore have been in contact with a set of surgeons at a private hospital in Monaco- discussing each precise detail to the tumour and the ideal route of how to remove it. Lando doesn’t listen when the doctors describe it to him, he goes to his happy place instead.

Miami, Florida- the 5th of May 2024

Oscar does listen on the other hand. He’s attentive, noting down each piece of information onto a little pocket book Logan had given the aussie for his birthday back in April. Where Lando zones out and goes spacey, Oscar remembers everything so he can explain it to Lando if he wants to know.

However, Lando does sometimes listen when they speak about the time after the surgery. It isn’t clear when he’s going to be able to race again as it all depends on how much of the tumour they’re able to remove and how his body will react to the chemotherapy.

COTA is completely out of the picture in terms of what he might be able to race in, and to be fair, the rest of the season is a wary grey area. Anything beyond Australia at the beginning of next year just seems too soon, as recovery from brain tumour surgery is 6-12 weeks, and that’s for normal activities- much less racing F1 cars.

For once, he decides to take that advice. Not listening to someone who was genuinely looking out for his health got him into this situation, badly bruised up from a crash on top of the existing tumour and cancer.

Oscar helps draft out an email from Lando to the McLaren team, explaining a situation they are already completely caught up on. Lando watches Oscar’s fingers tap across his laptop keyboard, using all the fancy jargon that Lando wouldn’t even know exists.

If he’s lucky and the tumour can be successfully removed, the doctors tell him he’ll return to his old self. He won’t have the headaches, the brain fog, the poor vision, the nausea. He’ll just be Lando Norris again- maybe slightly different, but better than now.

They don’t like to discuss what will happen if he’s unlucky though.

The bad thing about the tumour is that even though they are able to shrink it through chemotherapy if the surgery is unsuccessful, they’re not sure of the exact spread of it through his brain just yet. The MRI scan didn’t show the complete extent of the tumour, so they won’t know just how bad the situation is until they actually get in there for the surgery.

That’s the exact reason they’re pushing for it to happen as soon as possible- within the week ideally. Because the longer they wait, the more it spreads.

Lando’s had so many doctors and nurses tell him he was lucky that he crashed and ended up in hospital, as it was likely that the tumour would have remained undetected for a solid few more weeks, which could’ve killed him if he left it any longer than he did.

But Lando can’t help but think if he really was lucky, he wouldn’t be in this situation. He wouldn’t have a growing brain tumour, he wouldn't be in hospital, he wouldn’t be going in for surgery.

He’d be racing, he’d be on podiums- he’d be fine.

#f1 #formula1 #formula one #mclaren #oscar piastri #lando Norris #sick fic #fernandopiastri28 #f1 2024 #logan sargeant #carlos sainz #landoscar #lando x Oscar

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that-fangirl · 10 months

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Today I came across an interview Atsushi had, back in June 2019. And there was a specific part of it that almost gave me shivers.

"―― Right (lol). Our conversation has taken quite a turn but whether it’s about being healthy or about being able to perform on stage, neither can go on forever. I believe that is what you got to feel firsthand this time.

S: Yeah. How long I can keep doing this…… I thought about things like that. Especially recently when there are those who choose to voluntarily retire. Although, of course, I, too, wish to keep going as long as my body and my voice permits. But, well, it’s not something that is within our control. If we can sever off what naturally happens, it would be easy but that is rarely the case. Because being born human, we have emotions, and memories, and blood relations after all. It’s difficult to sever things away. But despite that, time still goes by. Right…… Very recently, I decided that I would do whatever I wanted to do. And I wouldn’t do what I didn’t want to do.

―― You’re saying this in a positive light.

S: That’s right. Because, really, just recently, a friend who I’ve known for 30 years passed away. He went suddenly and it felt like, ‘…… Ah, that’s it?’. That person lived his life as he liked, so I guess that was one thing my friend taught me.

―― Was your friend sick?

S: Nope, he suddenly collapsed. Cerebral haemorrhage or something. Mm…… It was a little too abrupt. Even now, it still hasn’t sunk in though."

It feels rather strange to read this interview and to find the similarities, doesn't it?

Either way, I believe for most of us, it still hasn't sunk in that he is gone. But I also think Sakurai-san would want us to live our lives to the fullest as we like.

We still miss you, Sakurai-san. It still hurts. But it will get better some day...

#sakurai atsushi #atsushi sakurai #interview

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cadmium-free · 9 months

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first two films from the list of films recommended by mutuals

Uncut Gems (2019) recommended by @adiabat

A really interesting, well crafted, and claustrophobic film that didn't play for me as well as I wanted it to. I think it is a victim of reputation: I went in knowing it was incredibly stressful and frantic, and so I expected those elements to be dialed to an impossible degree. In the end, I never felt the misery or the stress that it is famed for. Despite this, I still see the pieces that make this film and how they work. And it's so fucking layered, there is so much happening in it! I just wish I'd been able to meet it emotionally where others have.

And, y'know, sometimes I wonder if I just don't like when films are as well made as this. Not in a hater way, just in a "I like films best when they're pretty flawed" way.

And it’s not like I didn’t like it or thought it was bad, I just came into it with the wrong energy (expecting the impossible). Really glad I watched it!!!! I love watching people’s favourite movies even when they don’t hit me as hard. Thank you for the rec. <3

A New Leaf (1971) recommended by @wojit

I knew this was a winner literally two minutes into the film after the first joke landed.

Elaine May is just such a sharp writer and director. Reading about this film after I finished it is agonising. I want to see her cut. I want to see the missing 70-something minutes! I want to see the film that included murders and plots about misogyny that she wasn't allowed to make! As relentlessly funny as this film is, it's dark, and I suspect the bland saccharine ending had a totally different feeling in her cut. It's still unsettling and dark, but there was something more, something missing. I wish I could see it. I wish she had been allowed to make her film.

Still, the film we have is a master of comedy. The opening joke, walking around saying farewell to all his favourite things, the uncle's meal where he lights his cigarette with the ostentatious music box and slices a banana with a fork and knife, the unbearably awkward length of time spent trying to help Henrietta with her nightgown, the strange fantasies of murder. I love movies!!! I’m sorry for every mean thing I’ve ever said about comedy as a genre. An absolutely delightful rec.

#film #recs #uncut gems #a new leaf #drawings as always based on the posters though the uncut gems one was no fun so i mixed it up #not sure if the one for a new leaf was a poster or a dvd cover or just a regional variant

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vvienne · 2 years

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DAMIJON FIC RECS

Once Upon An Us by crashbang

Somewhere in the middle of the Andromeda Galaxy, thirty thousand light years from Rao, Damian Wayne wakes up drenched in sweat and wet between his thighs.

(Or: After Damian’s first heat, he takes Jon’s absence for the answer that it was. But after their Bond reawakens unexpectedly, he finds himself with a map to the one person he had thought would never leave him.)

For the First Time by rotasha

Jon has a realization. Actually, he has several. And it all starts in the Waynes’ home gym.

Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow? by poisonivory

After years in the future with the Legion of Super-Heroes, Jon is finally back in Damian's life, and Damian's determined to keep him in this century. If that means a little fooling around between friends, so be it. It doesn't have to mean anything.

(It just might mean everything.)

Those Who Wait by InsaneTrollLogic

The best way to socialize an angry assassin boy: Set up a playdate with someone functionally invulnerable.

[Jon and Damian through the years. Reverse!Robins universe. Stands alone.]

It Wouldn't Be Make Believe (If You Believed In Me) by poisonivory

When Damian traces the source of a lethal new party drug to Metropolis University, it only makes sense to go undercover as a student to ferret out the culprits. He doesn't expect to run into Met U student Jon Kent, and he definitely doesn't expect to get mistaken for Jon's boyfriend. But hey, what harm could it do to play along?

This is going to get complicated fast.

someone will remember us by yellow_caballero

(note: not damian/jon centric, but the rship features fairly prominently)

Robin Reversal AU. It is the year 2019, Damian's father is dead, and he's left with the legacy of Batman and a small child with crystal blue eyes. It is the year 2004, and Damian is a Muslim in post-9/11 America, son to a cryptid who works alone and doesn't realize that a Batman needs a partner. It is the year 2018, and a criminal called the Red Hood is terrorizing Damian's broken family. It is the year 2012, and Damian's father has replaced him with the neighbor next door. It is 2006 and Damian meets an alien who's also just a kid, it is 2011 and Damian is in love with an alien. It is hard being the oldest son and heir to an idiot, but Damian has Young Justice behind him and his future ahead of him. He'll cope.

Damian Wayne: a life in reverse.

'Cause I Made My Mind Up You're Going to Be Mine by poisonivory

Jon’s heart started pounding so hard he would have been concerned if he’d heard it in a regular human’s chest. “Are you saying that you’ve been courting me?”

Damian’s brow furrowed. “Yes, obviously.”

“Obviously?” Jon echoed. “When did...how? What was the courtship part?” And how had he missed it? This was so unfair.

Damian's been acting strange. Jon's unprepared for the reason why.

a remedy for all things by WizardEffect

(note: part of a series!)

After escaping the league of assassins, Talia needs a new home for her and her son to hide out--and stumbled across Hamilton county. It's quiet, remote, unassuming, and best of all, in the backyard of the most powerful man on the planet.

Damian and Jon become friends almost by accident.

Unfiltered by Starlinghue

Caught in the tricky balancing act of university classes and caped crusading, Jon rarely feels like he has time to just be himself. A trip to Gotham and a visit with his childhood best friend might be just the refresher he needs.

#damijon #jondami #dc #dc recs #fic recs #damian wayne #jon kent

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punkpoemprose · 10 months

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At Your Service- A Kristanna Regency Werewolf AU

Universe: Regency AU/ Werewolf AU

Rating: M (Mature, Moderately descriptive oral sex)

Length: 5029 Words

A/N: I started writing this for @karis-the-fangirl way back in 2019, I apologize for the sheer quantity of plot in this porn.

The Bjorgman family had been in service to the Lord of Arendelle for generations, or at least this was what Anna had always been told. The only Bjorgman that she had ever known was Kristoff, and he’d never really “served” in the traditional sense of the word. Household staff had always been rarely seen outside of their duties, and never heard unless first spoken to, and while Anna’s parents were much less strict toward their staff compared to others (according to the whispers she’d managed to catch from the staff), no one was treated with more familiarity than Kristoff Bjorgman.

Servants didn’t normally attend classes with the family’s private tutor, nor were they often invited to visit the main house, casually, as if they were a guest. Children of servants didn’t normally receive wrapped toys under the tree beside those belonging to the children of the house, and they certainly weren’t welcome to come and go as they pleased from nearly every area of the estate without question.

Sometimes as children, they would play together, but he was a strange child in many ways and was often disinterested in the play that Anna and Elsa engaged in. Mostly he was just the adopted son of the gardener and his wife, Bulda and Cliff Solberg, a boy afforded more familiarity with the lord and lady of the house and their girls than his station called for.

To Anna he was anything but ordinary. She’d always liked him in her youth because of his uncanny ability to be in the right place at the right time, which given the quantity of scrapes he’d managed to free her from, had always made her grateful.

That ability to show up just when he was needed was how he served Anna and how he’d served her since their youth days. The first instance she could recall had been when she’d been five. She’d climbed a tree, and each time she’d glanced at the grass below she’d found that she’d been too afraid to climb back down. Elsa, in her sickness, had been no help, simply watching her sister from her bedroom window in a sorrowful sort of defeat. Anna hadn’t been able to hear a word she’d seen her sister’s mouth make that day, but she’d heard enough “sorry Anna”s by that age to know that her sister’s helplessness was something that she felt great remorse for, despite being unable to control it.

Kristoff had found her though, even though she hadn’t made a peep and had been hidden among the leaves in her green dress. She’d known that he hadn’t been told where she was because Elsa had been the only one to see her, from the window, climbing into the tree and Kristoff had found her from the opposite side of the estate.

He’d climbed up to her and helped her make her way down for supper, saving her the sort of concern from the adults in the household that would have only served to further limit her freedom.

While her nursemaid had been none too pleased, both with her ward’s naughtiness in disappearing for close to an hour and for the disheveled appearance she’d reappeared in, she’d been spared any kind of real punishment and hasn’t missed the chocolate cake that had been served as dessert.

When she turned eight, her mother and father had purchased her the half-wild mare she’d desired since word from town first came about the beautiful creature that a local innkeeper had claimed as payment for the room and board of some duke’s fifth son, a disreputable sort of cad with twelve other brothers, the youngest being just a few years older than Anna herself. He hadn’t wanted to pay and one of her father’s men of business had been dispatched to deal with the whole business as a favor to the kindly innkeeper who was the son of one of Lord Arendelle’s tenant farmers.

They’d always had difficulty in denying Anna her whims, likely because they were so limited in their ability to spend time with her and for the guilt that her sister’s illness frequently disallowed play. They’d agreed to Anna’s ownership of the horse, of course, on the condition that one of the grooms they employed would train the creature and that she would not go near it until it was well and thoroughly broken.

Anna had, of course, as her age and manner demanded, snuck out the night it arrived. Her bare feet had been shoved into her riding boots and she’d tossed her mother’s shawl over her night dress before she’d moved across the grounds by starlight. She’d crept along like a ghost, moving like a ghost in the dark, fearing that if she had lit a lantern or candle to aid in her crossing that she would have been seen and subsequently caught.

She’d stumbled a bit as she made her way to the stables, tripping on unseen patches of uneven earth on the lawn that were easily traversable by day, but terrifyingly hazardous by night.

Slipping into the stables had been far simpler than making the crossing as the enclosed space, still unlit, was familiar enough to her by touch that she had been able to traverse it blindfolded with only her pinky finger for a guide, while hopping on one leg.

Her mother had always been strangely attuned to nature for a woman of her station, helping her husband frequently when making decisions relating to the estate’s grounds and those tenant farmers who tended to them. That she was an equestrian and encouraged the same for both of her daughters, even Elsa for whom it was excellent exercise for her weak lungs, was a surprise to no one who knew her. From the tender age of five, when she’d been given her first pony, Anna had well earned her familiarity with the stables, and it had often served her well on her evening extracurricular visits.

She’d been overconfident that night though. She’d climbed into the stall of her new horse, expecting fully to simply lock eyes with the beast and find the understanding there required for her to ride him bareback in the moonlight. She’d been imagining it for the whole day and felt thoroughly prepared for the dream scenario.

She had wanted to prove, once and for all, that she was much more grown-up, intelligent, and talented than anyone gave her credit for. She’d been ready to do just about anything on that night other than stumble backwards into the wood of the stall as the horse spooked at her presence before him. She hadn’t been prepared for the horse, as was its nature, to lash out with his hooves.

Anna had only just opened her mouth to scream, when a growling sound came from behind her, which caused the horse to shy away from her and back toward the opposite end of its stall. This had the fortunate side effect of leaving Anna herself blessedly unmarred.

She had been both pleased and utterly unsurprised when Kristoff unlocked the stable door, pulled her back out of the space and said something under his voice that seemed to tentatively calm the horse.

She’d heard the gate relatch and he’d effortlessly captured her hand, led her through the dark as if it were day, and brought her out into the moon and star lit yard where she’d been able to see him for the first time properly in the light of that evening.

The look in his eye had been almost feral, but she hadn’t been frightened by it. She’d known by sound, by touch, that it had been Kristoff that had rescued her all along. She’d been familiar enough with him for years by that time to know when he was around, and when she’d looked at him in the light of the three quarters moon, she’d sighed in appreciative relief and promised him cookies from the kitchen if he didn’t tell anyone what she’d done.

The feral look in his eye never left, even when he’d nodded in agreement that he wouldn’t tattle. Kristoff always had something a little wild in his eye, and while he was grumpy and standoffish at times, Anna returned to her bed and slept easy knowing that the older child was always kind, gentle, and above all else, true to his word.

When she was twelve, there’d been a terrible winter storm that had made roads impassable. She remembered being glad for it because it meant that Kristoff, who was meant to be going into town with his adopted father, as the often did, would not be able to go as scheduled and could instead join them at Elsa’s fifteenth birthday dinner.

He hadn’t come though. She’d been disappointed for Elsa, for whom she and Kristoff were the closest thing she had to actual friends. Elsa hadn’t seemed upset with him for not attending and that had annoyed Anna a bit.

She’d grown closer to Kristoff as they’d aged and while he mostly kept to himself, he never seemed to mind when Anna came to watch him work, or when she came just to talk. That she’d begun to develop a small crush on him at the time had been completely unrelated to her disappointment of course, of so she’d told herself.

The dinner had been boring if not a bit somber. Her parents had seemed to be horribly distracted through the whole affair, and Elsa had later chalked it up to the terribly howling sounds outside the window. Anna had attributed it to the wind, but Elsa had, almost absent mindedly said that it hadn’t been the wind at all. She’d refused to elaborate, even when Anna had begged.

Her parents had been gone for three years.

Anna was eighteen, just hours short of nineteen, and was anxiously waiting for some extended relative or another to reach out and offer her an introduction to the ton. Her several times distant cousin Owen and his wife should be the ones to do so, given that upon their father’s death the title of Lord Arendelle fell to him, but she doubted that either would be willing. He was still rather displeased about his lot in life as her father’s crafty will writing had meant that while the girls could not, by unfortunate and archaic law, gain his title, their home and his businesses had passed fully to their shared ownership after the accident.

The slight had left her listless. Elsa had never been introduced due to her health, and after an extended mourning and legal ordeal, she had not been willing to seek out such an additional responsibility. Elsa, at one and twenty, was not yet a spinster, but she was certainly intending to become one and though Anna could not imagine what it would be like to meet and marry a man at court, she’d always longed for a family of her own.

For many years she’d been sure of who she’d wanted to achieve that with.

Kristoff had been so good to them since their father’s passing. He was no longer the small wild eyed sometimes-playmate of her youth but was now a strongly built and handsome man. He’d been a man for some time, but his dedication to the Arendelle family hadn’t changed when the title of lord had passed, and even when his own adoptive parents had retired and moved to a small cottage in the hills, he’d stayed. His official employment at the estate was stablemaster, but he’d never been a traditional servant, and he certainly wasn’t now either.

He'd helped Elsa learn the physical sides of the family’s business, shown her to the tenant farms and explained the ways of the earth around them in ways that no tutor, nor their father, could have ever prepared them for. He was a better help than any man of business had been so far, and Anna knew that he never looked down on Elsa’s ability to be head of household just because she was a woman. Many others were not so kind, and tried and failed to take advantage of Elsa.

Beyond that, he’d been in and out of Anna’s life for the past year in a deeply confusing manner that had brought her both profound joy and immense heartbreak.

She’d always been half in love with Kristoff and he’d always been patient and kind with her. For the past year she’d often sought him out, her obligations to the family business being far less involved than Elsa’s which often left her with the time to darken his doorstep with her boredom.

Sometimes they’d talked. Sometimes she’d read to him while he’d tended to the horses. Sometimes he’d brushed an out of place lock of hair from her eyes and sometimes she’d slipped her hand into his and he’d held it. Sometimes she’d watched from the window of her bedroom, on nights he was meant to be away, and saw him enter the storage shed in the field and not leave for hours.

“Leave it alone Anna,” Elsa had said when Anna had told her about Kristoff’s seemingly monthly nighttime sojourns into the shed.

She frankly should have known that Anna never left anything alone.

She’d kissed Kristoff in the hayloft. She’d pressed herself to him and he’d held her close, kissing her softly at first, and then with intensity as they’d backed into the wooden wall together. He’d growled into her mouth, lifted her, and turned so that she’d been against the wall. Her legs had spread easily for him and he’d kissed her like a man starved while she bemoaned the length of her skirts and the manner in which the fabric of their clothes separated them. She’d wanted to simply tear them off, propriety be danmed, but that was the last thought she’d had before he’d stopped, set her on her feet, and walked away and down the ladder.

She’d hardly seen him since.

When she’d noticed him walking to the shed, she couldn’t help herself but to follow.

They needed to talk and she was not about to start leaving well enough alone now. She’d spent long enough trying to not care about his monthly disappearances.

She waited until he was in the shed, but she couldn’t quite wait until the sun had fully set, not wanting to trip around in the dark, and not wanting to bring a lantern to alert anyone of her late night excursions even though she could go where she pleased.

He jumped in surprise when the door opened and Anna, for her part, was as shocked by his appearance as she was by hers.

Kristoff, her friend, the man she’d been imagining herself marrying for well over a year, was naked as the day he was born. That in and of itself was enough of a shock. She’d seen him without a shirt before, but this was entirely different and far more uncomfortable because she hadn’t accidentally walked in on him bathing, she’d found him naked, chained by the wrists and ankles to a sturdy metal bracket that was bolted into the wall of the shed.

“Kristoff, oh my God!”

She crossed the small space in a few hurried steps, reaching her hands toward the sturdy metal around his wrists, reeling again with shock when he thrust his hands out toward her asking her to stop. She noticed the key in his hand before she forced her feet to halt.

“Anna, you need to go.”

She blinked, her heart racing and her mind moving far too slowly to understand any of what was before her.

“Who?”

She couldn’t get the question out of her mouth in its full form because she’d noticed something else.

Neatly folded on the top of a wooden box, she found his clothes, and on the wooden walls around the space he was chained, she saw scratch marks, deep, old scratch marks.

“Anna, you need to go!”

He repeated the instruction, this time more forcefully, a terror in his eyes that was so like the wildness he’d shown as a child, Anna was enthralled by it.

She could hear his words just fine. She knew what the command was, but she wasn’t sure why she couldn’t follow it. Maybe it was the shock, maybe it was because she truly couldn’t leave well enough alone, and needed to figure out what exactly she’d walked into before she allowed her brain and body to follow a different command.

The key in his hands caught her eye again.

“Who chained you Kristoff? Why aren’t you using that key?”

He growled in frustration, and Anna swore she saw his lip curl, almost like a dog.

“I did Anna. I did because I need to be… I can’t explain… Anna, you need to go. Run!”

His voice sounded deeper when he spoke, and she was, for a split second, afraid.

“I’m not going to leave you here, chained to a wall, without an explanation Kristoff. Is this what you do every month? Why?”

The unspoken question was why this, when taking a tumble in the hayloft is evidently too strange and uncomfortable to go through with.

He shook his head and seemed to realize that there was little he could say to make her leave. He had always been good at understanding that she was hard to stop when she got something in her head. She supposed that’s why he’d always been around to help her out of the situations that she got herself into rather than being around to try to stop her from getting into trouble in the first place.

“Please Anna, the sun is setting, the moon…”

“I don’t care Kristoff, I’ve been walking across the lawn in the dark since the first time I tried sneaking out on my own, you know that isn’t going to be enough to send me insi…” she didn’t finish because he grimaced, clearly in pain as he fell to his knees onto the dirt floor.

“Please, Anna… I can’t protect you from me. I’m trying but I…” his words were likewise cut off by a snarl of pain that seemed far too animal to come from his throat.

She fell to her knees in return, ignoring his protests and all put crawling across the floor to get to him.

He threw the key across the room, clearly panicked, but she knew as it sailed past her, that he wasn’t throwing it at her. He was tossing it away from himself. Anna swore that when he gritted his teeth, his canines were sharp.

“You don’t have to protect me from you Kristoff. I don’t know what’s going on here, but if this is some kind of twisted self-discipline for what happened in the hayloft… please don’t, I’m sorry if I didn’t understand but…”

“No, Anna, you don’t…”

He cried in pain again, his hands going to the dirt floor and scratching up large fistfuls of the Earth, his nails, like his teeth, appearing longer and sharper.

She was starting to feel afraid, but she knew that what she’d said was true. He didn’t need to protect her from him.

“You’d never hurt me Kristoff, but you’re hurting, please let me help… I’m scared.”

Her hands were shaking when she reached toward him, her hands settling atop his on the floor, her trembling fingers trying their hardest to trace soothing paths across the back of his hands that were far hairier than she recalled them being.

“Anna, I can’t promise when I’m like this,” he growled, “I can’t promise I won’t hurt you, I can’t promise I won’t take what I want.”

She didn’t understand, not fully, but something in her, despite her fear, softened at his words. He sounded even more scared than she was, but his fear was misplaced.

“You wouldn’t hurt me, you couldn’t Kristoff, not in any way that matters because you…” she shook her head, trying to find words that made sense despite the situation not making any.

“You could never take from me what I wouldn’t freely give.”

His back arched and the pained sounds crescendoed as his hands released the dirt and lightning quick, pulled her by her waist across the floor and toward him.

She was dully aware of the sounds of clattering chains when her eyes went up to meet his. Normally brown, his eyes had gone gold, his face was his and not because she knew in her racing heart that the wolf baring its teeth at her was Kristoff.

The rest of the change was only peripherally comprehensible to her. His nakedness was covered by hair and she could feel it warm and soft against her hands in the place they’d landed when she’d been forcefully pinned to his body. His hands were gripping her hips, his nails digging into her skin uncomfortably, but not painfully.

“I would take everything Anna.”

His voice was his own, spoken deep and rough from his wolf mouth. It was meant as a threat. She could feel his grip on her slacken as he said it, the control he seemed to believe he didn’t posses rearing its head, allowing her time to run now that she could understand the situation more clearly.

“I would give everything Kristoff.”

She hadn’t needed to think about it. Her heart was still racing with adrenaline, but despite the instinctual fear she felt, she knew she was safe.

“You can’t… You can’t say that, I won’t be able to…” “So don’t,” she interrupted, “Don’t stop yourself. Don’t make me think that I’ve imagined this… don’t make me wonder if you want me again.”

Kristoff was a werewolf. She was beginning to understand the nights away now. She understood why her mother had uncomfortably read them werewolf stories from her family’s handwritten folktales.

The growls he made were pained in a different way as he pulled her close again, his hands, large and clawed, pulling so hard on the outer skirts of her dress that she heard the fabric tearing.

“I want you Kristoff… just let go.”

He did as he was told, releasing her.

She nearly told him that it wasn’t what she meant, when he captured her again, pulling her with him as close to the wall where he was chained as he could manage to get, allowing his limbs the most range of motion possible.

“I don’t want to take you like this Anna,” he growled, “I don’t want the wolf to taste you first.”

Anna felt hot all over, he’d nestled her onto his lap and she could feel the press of his cock against her thigh. “Taste?” She leaned in close to his face and tried to imagine how he’d manage such a feat the way he was changed. She thought it would be hard enough to kiss him properly like this, let alone with the intensity that had him tasting her mouth in the hayloft.

“Your cunt Anna.”

“Oh.”

She felt like she couldn’t breathe. She’d wanted sex in the hayloft. She’d wanted him to claim her. She’d wanted him so badly it hurt.

Now the roles were reversed and she let her lashes flutter closed, picturing what that might be like with him, with him like this.

“I want your scent all over me, smells so good. You’re already wet, I know you are.”

It was true. She wondered if it was wrong that she wanted it, that she wanted such a thing with him when he was like this. She loved him, and she wanted him, and she would have him any way he would allow her to. That felt like it was reason enough for it to be right.

“Okay.”

He growled and it was the end of her skirts.

They fluttered around her in tatters when he pressed forward and laid her onto the dirt floor, one large arm beneath her for support before it shifted to lifting her hips, demonstrating to her more clearly than anything else, that this was her Kristoff, and he wouldn’t let her fall.

His other hand was busying itself making ribbons of her undergarments, and she was grateful that she hadn’t worn anything she thought of as a favorite item.

“You have to tell me to stop if you want me to stop, hell you might have to run. I’ll try not to chase.”

His voice was even more animal when he spoke of chasing her. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t stop,” she told him, “I want this. Don’t be sorry, just promise me you won’t hate yourself in the morning.”

“How could I ever hate myself for this?”

He adjusted their positions slightly and ducked his head to her raised thighs.

Sharp teeth nipped at her inner thighs, but she knew that despite that animal urge to mark her, to maybe even make her like him, he wouldn’t hurt her. There was an almost pleasant sensation of dull scraping as he nipped her thighs, and she cried out when his snout rubbed against her.

He gave little warning, only animal groans, when he started his work.

His tongue was large and rough as he pressed it to her folds, his nose rubbing her clit and making her shout with pleasure.

“Kristoff, god, yes!”

Spurred on by her enthusiasm, he licked and sucked and rubbed with relish.

It was so much better than anything she could have imagined on her own. It was better than how it had felt to touch herself for sure, and while she was still getting used to seeing Kristoff in such a changed state, she was able to let her eyes flutter closed and trust that he would make her feel good.

She was almost embarrassed by how quickly her pleasure built, how easy it was for him to wring it from her with just the right combination of tongue and teeth.

He lapped at her appreciatively, growling and nuzzling at her thighs until finally the beast in him seemed calmed.

She laid on him, his body insulating hers from the floor because she wasn’t going anywhere in her tattered dress and she didn’t want him to let go of her for even a moment. His form was different, but the way he held her protectively and kept her warm was exactly what she knew to expect from her Kristoff.

He’d seemed jumpy for a few minutes after she’d come for him, but she suspected that it had been a product of his restraint and form fighting for control of his cock. She wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to, but she thought that maybe it would be best to work through this situation before she told him to fuck her against the wall. “Anna, I… I’m sorry I’ve…”

She shook her head, sated and sleepy against his chest.

“You’re not allowed to be sorry for that Kristoff. It would be like apologizing for giving me a gift.”

The wolf in him was at least somewhat sated and the need in her was as well… unless of course he was offering her another orgasm.

“Anna, I’ve ruined you.”

She nearly laughed, but thought better of it.

“Kristoff I’ve been ruined for other men since you decided to stay when your parents left service last year. I don’t want anyone else, I want you… and now even more. You’ve been suffering alone with this for so long and I want so badly to make sure you never are alone like that ever again.”

She remembered the sounds of a crying wolf that often featured in her childhood nights. She so badly wished that she had known sooner, so that she could have been a friend for him then.

“I almost broke the chains last month… since you started giving me your attentions it’s been nearly impossible not to run up to the house and break down every door between us. I thought I would be worse this time because of how close we had come in the stable, but without the chase I had a little more control.”

“Why was it only close in the stable?”

His hands, sharp nails and all, were gentle on her back, tracing small shapes through the remaining fabric even as his arms held her tightly to him.

“Because you deserve better than a stable boy for a husband and I knew that if I took an inch I’d take a mile.”

She thought of how she’d seen him naked when she’d first walked in and she wasn’t sure how many inches she would have been able to take of him, let alone how many inches he had to offer like this, but she was excited to find out someday. He could have her for every mile he wanted.

“I don’t deserve the stable master I want as a husband,” she corrected, “but if he’s willing to take less than he deserves, he can take me for that tumble in the hayloft tomorrow.”

He scoffed and despite her feeling somewhat certain that he wouldn’t be back to his usual self until the morning, he sounded a little more like his usual self already.

“You deserve more than a tumble Anna… I want to do more than just fuck you, and I want to do it someplace much nicer than a hayloft.”

“Frankly,” she said, nuzzling into his chest, feeling both like they’d done this all a bit out of order, and like this was the most perfect thing she’d ever done. “As long as it’s with you I don’t even mind the shed.”

He laughed and she begrudgingly removed herself from his hold.

“I’m going to look for that key. I think we’re not going to need it anymore.”

“Just move slowly,” he said, sitting up, “I’m a little worried that I won’t be so gentle if you run.”

Anna found, despite the newness and strangeness to this situation, that sometime soon, she would very much like to run. She thought, even more so, that she’d like to see what would happen once she was caught.

#kristanna #frozen fanfiction #werewolf au #regency au #no proofreading we die like men

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alexsoenomel · 2 years

Text

That Summer Dress (Dean Winchester x Reader smut)

Summary: You have to wear a dress for a case and Dean really likes it *wink*

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: psychotic ghost and sexy times (BJ’s and big O’s)

Word count: 3104

Note: I wrote this in 2019. Enjoy! Like/Reblog or both if you like it! :)

“Do you really have to use me as bait?“ I asked while my will to live was slowly leaving my body and soul.

“Hey the ghost likes to kill girls and since both of us have dicks...” Dean said but I cut him off.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Case in a nutshell: Not so long ago a serial killer named Ted Bundy existed and he liked to kill women, saying hardcore pornography made him do it (Dean to that: “Yeah right.”). Well, turns out the world is even more fucked up than I thought; he had a fan. A fan so dedicated to keep his notorious legacy alive, he made sure not to cross over when he dies; and he died 10 years ago. He liked to kill pretty girls in fucked up ways, the similarities between his MO and Ted’s were uncanny. His main preference, were girls who wore pretty dresses. After he would kill them, he would keep the dresses, sick bastard. Some say he would put on the dress of his first victim, his wife, every time he would kill. We burnt the body but he was still in his house. So, naturally we decided to go there and see what’s keeping him here, in Tacoma, Washington.

It was 6pm and time for us to get to work. This shitty motel room was slowly driving me mad; I was ready to kick something.

“Are you guys ready?” I asked putting on my backpack.

“(Y/N) are you forgetting something?” Dean then asked me.

“What?”

“You said it yourself he likes girls in dresses.” Sam said.

Oh shit.

“You really want me to wear a dress? REALLY?”

Dean jokingly told me I would have to wear a dress and also added how hot I would look before we came here; turns out he wasn’t joking. Dean and I were kind of more than just friends. We weren’t together either. Ever since I’ve first met him one night in a bar back home (Lebanon, Kansas) we were drawn to each other. He, of course typical Dean, tried to flirt with me and get in my pants but I wasn’t in the mood. I lost my friend to a vampire that day and I was grieving, with whiskey. He started with small talk which I hate more than anything, but because I was attracted to him I gave him a pass and soon after we found common ground. We were in the same business, liked the same music and overall been through a lot of similar crap. Plus he was SO lucky in the gene department; those green eyes and full pink lips were enough to make me want him under/on top of me. That night we talked for what it seemed like forever, about hunting, life, everything...that night I saw his true colors and he saw mine, which was strange for both of us, considering the fact we don’t open up easily and to just anybody. We didn’t fuck that night though. Oh no, after that I haven’t seen him in 3 long months. He was busy trying to find his angel friend Castiel and nephilim named Jack; and I was busy hunting werewolves in Los Angeles. We would text each other every once in a while but that was it, before, he one day called me asking if I want to join him and his little brother. Of course I said yes. That was and still is one of the greatest discussions I have ever made. Ever since my friend died I’ve been hunting alone and the loneliness was killing me. I still miss her terribly. It was nice having company like Sam and Dean. Sam soon became that friend everyone wishes to have; the one who takes care of you and is always there if you have a problem and Dean, well Dean was your friend’s hot brother you desperately wanted to bang. And I did...one drunken night when we were left alone. Sam was the one who needed to clear his head so he went for a long walk and Dean and I were left to do research for our next case. We were a little hard on that bottle of whiskey Dean had bought that day so we did anything but that. When Sam got back he found us both collapsed in Dean’s bed naked (thank god we were covered with a sheet). The next day was pretty awkward for him. Poor Sammy...

I don’t even remember what we did; I just know he gave me the most amazing orgasm I’ve ever had. It was mind-blowing. We haven’t really gotten a chance to talk about it since we have been working 24/7, so this brings us to now... I get jealous every time a girl even looks at Dean in a way I don’t like, and Dean is the same. One time when a guy bought me a drink, Dean just drank it instead of me. So we were friends but there was something more to it...

Back to reality...

“If you want us to get rid of that son of a bitch yeah.” Dean said with an obvious smug on his face.

“But I don’t have one.” I said giving him a bitch face. “I don’t wear dresses.”

“We will go and buy one then.” Sam said.

“Great.” A sarcastic comment was a necessity for me.

Because I was going to wear a dress I decided to put my hair in a pony tail and do my makeup. Well, mascara was the only thing I carried, so put mascara on. We went to a nearest shop where I found the most beautiful summer dress. A little above the knees, white with flowers all over it, covering all the right places, it suited me perfectly. Dean approved as well. When he saw me leaving the shop his jaw hit the floor. He was waiting with Sam outside drinking coffee and almost choked on it. My ego was rising faster than the bulge in his pants.

“What do you think?” I asked them.

“It suits you.” Sam said.

“Nice.” Dean added swallowing nervously. “Okay let’s get to work.”

While Dean was driving I could feel him eyeballing me in the rear-view mirror as much as he could. That man was slowly going mad and I loved it. I hoped this dress lands me a naked Dean Winchester after this case.

When we finally arrived to his house I got chills down my spine. I felt his presence and I was still in the car. When we went inside on the other hand, I felt like I couldn’t breathe, he was there waiting for me. Maybe that’s how he killed all those girls over the years, he was calling for me to go to his bedroom.

“He’s in the bedroom.” I whispered.

“How do you know?” Sam asked tightening the grip around his shotgun. Both, him and Dean had shotguns with rock salt shot rounds while I was stuck with an iron crowbar.

“He’s telling me to come there. Sick bastard.”

“What a ladies’ man.” Dean added.

Because I was the bait in this whole operation I was the first to enter the room. It was one of those typical bedrooms that you see in horror movies; all wooden, unreasonably tidy and clean with...so many dolls in dresses watching your every move. It was a room of nightmares. Just being in there made the Winchesters and me uncomfortable.

“Now, this guy had a lot of issues.” I heard Dean say, and he was right.

In that moment I felt someone or something grab my throat which resulted in me dropping the crowbar. He was here. He was old probably in his sixties, gray hair, and psychotic written all over his face and in old dirty clothes. He was tightening the grip around my neck as I felt oxygen leave my brain. “Pretty dress.”- Was the last thing I heard followed by a gunshot before passing out.

****

“Hey (Y/N) are you okay?”

“(Y/N) wake up!”

Dean said a little bit louder as I opened my eyes completely oblivious of what went down.

“Where’s the ghost?”

“We took care of it.” Sam said.

“For real? Is he going to come back?”

“No, turns out the bastard was attached to the dress of the first girl he killed, his wife.” Dean stated.

“Figures. But where did you find the dress?”

“Sam found it in a glass box in his living room.”

“Oh...wow...Okay, you’re never using me as bait ever again.” Still a little disoriented I gathered all the strength I had in that moment to get up. Dean helped me of course, being a gentleman, not taking his eyes off me.

“Gotcha!” He said.

*****

When we finally got back to the motel Sam decided he was going to go grocery shopping for the trip back home and later go to a bar. I thought Dean was going to go as well so I can shower and hit the sack (the trip back home was going to last 24 hours and I wasn’t not much of a sleeper while being on the road because I could never get comfortable) but he decided to stay with me. Maybe now we can finally talk about that night and establish what we are.

When Sam left I couldn’t help but feel a little bit nervous. I have wanted to talk about this with Dean for so long, constantly thinking about what I will say and how I will approach the subject and now that moment was here and I was scared shitless. I didn’t do that kind of shit, at all. I would usually just sleep with a guy and leave. I don’t have time for relationships nor commitment and Dean was the only one pushing those barely touched buttons (last real relationship I had was back in high school and it didn’t end well; the asshole cheated).

“I thought you are going with Sam to get drunk?” I asked nervously wanting to start a conversation.

“Nah, I can do that here...” He said smirking. “With you.”

Oh...

“Are you trying to tell me something, Dean?” I asked trying to act confident. God, he was driving me crazy.

“You know what exactly I’m trying to tell you babe.” He said after he took a sip from the beer bottle he opened seconds before. I on the other hand was standing inches away from him leaning against the wall because I was too afraid my knees would give up and I would hit the floor. His voice, his face....his everything....UGH. He was making me feel like I’m 15 and hormonal again. He then proceeded to get even closer to me, eyeballing every inch of me in that dress; practically stripping me naked with his eyes. He put the bottle on the table and went towards me, he was so close I could see every line, freckle and bump on his face. Plus those green eyes...not possible to describe the beauty of them. His right hand was above me while the other found a way to my thigh slowly but surely dragging his fingertip across my skin, slowly lifting my dress. He pinned me down against the wall while I was trying not to completely lose it and tear his clothes off.

“That dress looks perfect on you.” He said.

“You’re not subtle with your eyeballing at all, you know?” As I said that his hand went a little higher slowly brushing his fingers across my already wet panties making me gasp a little and spread my legs. He knew how to open “the gates of heaven” as he called them. Cheeky...

“I couldn’t help it; I was barely controlling myself back there.” He stated as he pressed his forehead against mine. “My dick was so hard when I saw you, it hurt like a bitch.” And then boom, his fingers went in my panties immediately finding my clit and slowly rubbing me with his thump. Holy shit...I forgot just how much I missed his touch. I let out a moan while my eyes never left his. The air was filled with lust and nothing but lust. I couldn’t wait for him to devour me whole.

“Glad you enjoyed the view.” I managed to say. I decided today was my day to play though. I wanted to be in charge so badly so I took his hand out of my panties, kissed his cheek, barely touching the skin, and went to my bed. He followed me like a puppy. I took off my dress reveling my white bra and white panties (and no there were not matching but who cares).

“Is it just me or did you get even hotter?” He asked eyes wide open. He was like a child after Christmas morning. I smiled as my confidence was sky high and pushed him onto the bed. Positioning myself on his lap I pulled on his shirt telling him to lift himself up so I could kiss him. As soon as he did I crashed my lips onto his, and my tongue entered in his mouth, exploring, biting and teasing the shit out of him. My hands were in his hair pulling slightly as his hands went onto my hips desperately trying to tell me to move. I started off with little trusts as my lips attacked his neck. Pretty sure I left many love bites.

“God, I want you.” He said pulling my pony tail to look at me. “You’re driving me crazy woman!”

“Just doing my job, sir.” I said playfully.

Suddenly I found myself in Dean’s arms in the air before he dropped me onto the bed. Wasting no time he took off his clothes, boxers included and boy oh boy how my lungs stopped working. I was in a trance looking at this perfect man who was about to sin with me.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yeah?” I asked while my eyes were on his hard dick scanning every vain and practically drooling.

“Why are you still dressed?”

“Oh...”

Taking off my underwear he took my face and kissed me as he his body was on top of mine. It looked like he thought he was gonna be in charge...oh honey. My hand went and grabbed his dick as I broke the kiss to look at him. He looked at me with confusion all over his face as I said: “My turn.”

He melted instantly. I knew he liked it when someone bosses him around in bed and gives him “sexy rules”-not so long ago we got drunk (like we usually do on a Sunday night) and talked about sex. Before I completely blacked out I remembered him saying something about him being a sub while his brother was laughing his butt off. Poor guy was too drunk to see his brother sitting sober as a bird in the library reading a book.

“Oh...” He managed to say as I pushed him back onto the bed. I kissed every inch of him; lips, neck, collarbones, biting here and there; stomach, going lower and lower. He was breathing heavily, before I reached his dick and licked the tip first; then he lost his mind. He grabbed my pony tail as I took him all in my mouth, moving slowly up and down. Because I didn’t have gag reflex I could take him whole with ease. Every time I reached the tip I would vacuum slightly making him moan. Those moans were the hottest thing I have ever heard.

“God, that feels so good.” He said trying to stay sane but failing.

I did that a few times before going back up and kissing him again. He was in shock, it looks like he didn’t expect for me to stop. “I don’t want you to cum just yet.” I said.

“Ugh.”

“I love when you’re frustrated.” I giggled.

“I hope it amuses you because it’s killing me.”

I decided to stop playing around and positioned myself on top of his tip as I sat down with ease. His facial expression changed immediately as I slowly started to move, riding him.

“ Fuck.” He cussed.

Deep breaths and moans filled the room, his hands were on my hips and mine were on my boobs cupping them; preventing them from jumping up and down (It hurts like a bitch after). He begged me to speed up soon after moaning my name over and over again. I could see he wasn’t going to last much longer which exited me because I was close too. Considering the fact I prefer when a man is on top of me this was AMAZING. He was hitting all the right places and I was in heaven.

“Dean I’m close!” I yelled.

“I’m too...oh god.”

Jumping up and down on him I could feel my orgasm approaching. I felt like million bucks as he came first after hitting my g-spot so hard I lost my shit and came after him. I was shaking and couldn’t feel my legs as I collapsed next to him.

“Holy shit.” I said panting.

“What was...” He was still trying to catch his breath.

“Mind-blowing?”

“Best sex I ever had.” He added.

“I think I came so hard my body is dead. I can’t feel my legs at all...nor arms.” I said smiling like an idiot.

“I was that good, huh?” Dean asked with a big ass grin on his face.

“Yes.”

It finally hit me that we still haven’t had the talk. I really wanted to know where I was with him.

“Hey, um...what are we?” I finally spilled out.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we are friends but we also fuck like animals and get jealous if someone flits with our fuck buddy but-“ I was cut off by his lips on mine. This kiss was different though. It was like he was trying to show me just how much he cared about me; it was much more loving and not driven by lust.

“You’re not just my fuck buddy.” He said breaking the kiss. “I really like you. I haven’t felt like this in a very long time, and I’m scared with the life we live what’s gonna happen but I’m willing to try if you’re too.”

“You know my answer.” I just said and kissed him.

Too bad we didn’t have time for round two because Sam came back early for some reason and found us both naked in my bed. Poor moose was traumatized for the next 2 weeks.

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genopaint · 7 months

Text

Week 6 of the Daily Dragon Challenge! This is my last week before I start moving, which will likely be a HUGE strain on my time. So hopefully I can keep it up? We'll see?

As always you can follow me on twitter where they’re posted daily

And read more info on each of them below the cut

Daily Dragon #35 - Ghouldrogon

When the knights finally played the dragon tormenting the village... Something went horribly wrong. It didn't decay right. It lingers in the mountain. And it's corrupted soul haunts the lair forever. They have creepy undead magic, spewing foul smelling paranormal green flames. If you somehow successfully steal something from their horde, it's gonna be horribly cursed.

This is a redesign of a 2012 skeleton! Was looking for an old dragon to redraw and settled on this dude! But it's REALLY been changed up I guess. It's barely the same thing anymore lol but I think the new one's way cooler!

Daily Dragon #36 - Floofizard

These more rodent-like dragons are typically found near park trails and in cities with trees to hide in. They love to collect nuts and fruits, but aren't afraid to get close to humans and snatch scraps when the chance comes up. They're fast runners too, so good luck catching them if they snatch a snack out of your bag. You don't commonly see them as pets, but some people love them because of how soft and fluffy they are!

Daily Dragon #37 - Orbodon

Not exactly "man's best friend" as they can be very mischievous! Causing small problems like stealing food, knocking things over, and other trouble, then rolling away before they can be caught and get a little water spritzed in their face.

Had a plan for a big dragon today but ended up feeling a little tired when I sat down to draw tonight so I went with something simple. My brain kept telling me "do a circle one... just make it a circle" and I gave in and now we have the second dog dragon of the challenge lol

Daily Dragon #38 - Dragostein

Dragons slain across the land suddenly go missing, remains of the beast go unaccounted for... Suddenly, a new dragon appears in a long abandoned laboratory. It can't move well, but it doesn't feel pain, is physically power, and has electric powers!

This is the dragon I wanted to draw yesterday! Based on "Dragonstien" that I got from the infinite craft game. For some reason I thought it was so funny, I just had to draw it

Daily Dragon #39 - Rammosaur

A highly aggressive dragon that loves hitting and smashing things with its horns! They can even use those huge horns to shovel dirt and rocks out of their path and territories high up on the mountains! Very versatile creatures!

This creature is a redraw of this weird fella from roughly 2019 I think? Was looking for some random dragons I did in the past and found this thing. It was called the "Rammasaur" but it doesn't really look like a dino? So I wanted to redo it lol

Daily Dragon #40 - Arachnosaur

A strange hybrid of reptile and arachnid! 8 limbs, 7 eyes, Scorpion tail, powerful jaws, and lethal venom make this dragon a feared beast inside most caves. It can also spit webs from its mouth!

Daily Dragon #41 - Magma Dragoon

And of course, this is today's dragon! I actually wanted to draw a nice and simple dragon, but hated how they all came out. So of course the obvious solution was to swap to something complicated!

#dragon #dragons #daily dragon challenge

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golbrocklovely · 5 months

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that one anon manifested mlp’s return! she was back on stream and talking about how whenever her certain someone went to coachella he cheated on her!

not quite sure how that’s plausible when even she said they were never official but okay

ain't it strange i get this ask and then this same info pops up on someone's ngl on twitter…. how interesting.

imma put my two cents in and call it a night on the shea talk. bc i haven't had to talk about her for almost two months, and i would like to keep that going. but god, the amount of times shea has changed her story is kinda funny at this point lol

in case those of you have missed it, she claims that her and colby were on and off again for almost 10 years - which that alone proves he was not in anyway cheating on her since they were never fully a thing/never committed completely.

but then she said that they did date for a bit but then went back to being in the talk stages and stayed there for a while.

but then she claimed they were a situationship.

but then said that they never had sex, so it would have to be an emotional situationship which just flat out isn't a thing.

but then she said they were serious enough to meet each other's families and talk about getting married and having kids.

but then she also said they weren't ever truly official.

so…. which is it?? were you guys serious enough and dating the whole time secretly (even tho he was seen with COUNTLESS girls over most of the course of the time period she claims they were together) or…. and just hear me out shea fans, SHE'S LYING????????

crazy concept, i know. but maybe she doesn't tell the truth.

that's not me saying that colby's a saint in all of this. but there's no way he's the best boyfriend ever and also a serial cheater that's she's only complaining about now.

bc let's get back to your ask. colby, to our knowledge, has only gone to coachella twice publicly. once in 2019, once in 2022. okay, 2019. so he cheated on her…… and then by december she's back with him at jc's party??? and even before that he wished her happy bday on twitter, and she thanked him and liked posts about it on insta.

that's a weird way to act with someone that apparently cheated on you.

okay, so 2022. maybe that's when he cheated. however… the person he was seen with at coachella, six flags girl, he had been hooking up with since 2021. or is she referring to stas? which then means he cheated on shea with six flags girl (for a whole year basically) and then also stas….. who then continued to want to be with him until shit hit the fan on that whole thing. but wasn't 2022 also the same year she was blaming all of the fans for "ruining" adventure buddies with all of the shipping??? bc i have proof of her liking comments saying fans ruined adventure buddies. which… if he cheated, wouldn't exactly be the fans' fault.

you let me know when she starts making chronological sense. and maybe then i'll start believing her :)

#ask #personal #shea #cb ll

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shads-shipposts · 3 months

Text

"Anachronism" Prologue Rough Draft +LORE✨

Remember how I mentioned that the chapters prior to this would only leave you more confused as to wtf was going on? Well, the prologue is now finished and is being posted.

The background of Anachronism is this: back in 2015 I attempted to rewrite a 2014 RP that included the Tintin sailors (which is my first fanfic ever). True Colors was the name. It was never finished, instead transitioning halfway through into an original fic where the sailors got new names/designs/backstories as they were changed into ocs. The Karaboudjan would become the Caroline, but Scarlett was already a self-insert so her initial character remains (though she's changed quite a bit). Both the original fics and the 2015 are scrubbed from the internet, though I do believe one of you followers actually read that 2014 one when it was on Deviant Art. I am so sorry you had to witness that 😬.

Jump to late 2017-early 2018, the first hints of Anachronism were forming. It wouldn't be until 2019-2020 New Years that I started it in earnest. The story follows myself (yes, I get "isekai'd") as I end up in the same timeline as that 2015 fic. Originally it was the 2014 fic but I really don't want to deal with certain elements of that mess. Anyway, that Anachronism kinda started collecting dust as my Bad Batch hyperfixation hit and Adventures!AU was born. That series takes place after Anachronism, but Anachronism was never posted.

Well, 4+ years, three and a half books, and 500k+ words later I am finally starting to post snippets to curse the world lol. Schedule-wise, Anachronism won't premiere in full until 2029 most likely, as Adventures!AU is still my main project. But I miss the Karaboudjan crew, and my hyperfixation is strong for them rn so I'm posting and working on chapters.

All that to say buckle up, this fic gets wild. Magic elements are minimal in this fic, but they still be there.

Enjoy! :D Feedback is most welcome, I'm still figuring out the characterizations for the fellas as it's been a while since I really wrote heavily with them (Bad Batch has claimed most of my time).

CW: Mild horror elements

1872 words

---------------------------

“Scared, Allan?”

It wasn’t the first time he’d found himself here after he closed his eyes. It’d been months since the incident that gave rise to the event playing over and over again in his dreams, but time hadn’t dulled any of his emotions concerning the event.

“I must say, your fear scent is… unique. Fishy and tart.”

Confusion, horror, shock, disbelief.

“Don’t worry your little head there. I respect you and, strange as it may seem, I do find the need to fear you.”

Yes, fear there too.

“Funny ain’t it?”

And who wouldn’t be scared?

“An Alphian fearin’ a human.”

When they were faced with an alien of unknown magical abilities?

“Don’t see that every day.”

The scene wobbled and fizzled at the edges, like staring at a reflection on the surface of a stormy sea. The secrets surrounding the scene trapped deep in its depths, unreachable even if one tried their hardest to grasp the answers.

Allan Thompson walked through the scene, removed from his own actions as if he were just on autopilot. He couldn’t change the scene, no more than someone watching a reel on a screen.

He sat at the table, across from the half-human, half animal woman that watched him like a hawk. Dark stripes cut through her skin like thick shadows across a moonlit patch in the woods, a black and white tail flicked behind her, and piercing eyes the color of glaciers scanned him inside and out. She was a head shorter than him, yet power radiated off her like heat from an open flame.

His voice reached his ears, muted and distant.

His own and yet… not, in a way.

“Kid… I’m sorry about Turtle.”

The alien looked up at him, the furry ears on the sides of her head flattened against ginger hair.

“Thanks, man.”

Those cat-like eyes shifted to the side, as if searching for any other threats.

He knew it was a dream. Knew what was about to happen.

It did not ease the churning of his stomach.

“Actually,” she continued, mouth moving but voice coming from the very walls surrounding them. “I kinda wanted to ask you about something related to that.”

Allan knew what was coming. Knew what she was going to ask.

Knew how badly it would go, how swiftly the scene would turn dangerous.

But he was helpless to do anything but follow the script. Follow the events as they unfolded.

Eyes on her hands, waiting to see those thorn sharp claws, Allan again heard his voice from far away.

“Aye?”

He wished he could change course. Wished he could prevent what came next. Perhaps, if he could, then things would be different.

But no.

“Let me go after that short slaver with the dark brown hair. I want his head for orderin’ me to kill Turtle.”

There it was. The request that shattered everything. The request that would leave Allan with gaps in his memory that no amount of pondering or searching could ever fix.

He felt the shock course through his body, felt his spine stiffen and his heart skip a beat.

“I’m sorry…” he heard himself say. “But I can’t allow that.”

Ears shot up, a tail bristled, sharp teeth bared, and anger blazed in those icy eyes.

“What?”

If only he could alter his words. Explain more, explain better.

Save himself.

If only.

“I can’t allow you to kill him.”

He had dreams. He had nightmares.

This hell was something else entirely.

Pupils narrowed to slits across from him, jagged scars streaking down the table as wicked claws dug into the old wood.

“Is that your final answer?”

There was red now, deep in those eyes.

He could only watch, silently scream in his head as he fought with all his might to change the memory.

“Aye, I refuse to let you go after him.”

Futile. The scene would play out as it had many nights before this one.

The woman stood, ears low and tail lashing.

“Whose side are you on, Allan? Huh? The slavers?” A snarl curled her lip, the temperature around them plummeting as ice snaked out from her hands across the table. “How disappointin’.”

The edges of the scene corrupted, bleeding red and black.

He wanted to scream. Wanted to run. Wanted to hide.

Hide from the devastation bearing down on him like a hurricane at sea.

But there was no refuge. No escape.

“There will be another time to kill him.”

He had to witness the event that would alter his fate.

Words came faster now, a distorted echo to them that sent chills down his spine.

“But I heard the other slavers talkin’! He’s goin’ on patrol tonight! I can’t pass up this opportunity to claim revenge for what he did.”

“Look, kid. I said no, and that’s final.”

“Nobody’s gonna stand in my way. Not even you. Stand down now, Allan. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He got up.

Walked over.

“I told you no, kid! That’s an order!”

“Give it up, Allan. I’m doin’ this my way. I’m killin’ him tonight and you can’t stop me. Don’t even try to.”

He got close.

Too close.

It was over fast. She winded him with a headbutt, driving him back into the wall hard enough to knock the breath from him. He didn’t even have a chance to rise to his feet, weight pinning him to the floor. A rag clamped over his mouth and nose, drowning the world in a sickly-sweet haze.

Darkness followed swiftly after, a growl echoing in his ears.

“You brought this on yourself. Sweet dreams.”

And those were the last words he ever heard from Scarlett Hyde.

Allan sat up in his bed with a gasp, cold sweat pouring down his face as he fought for breath.

Was that her now, hiding in the dark corner?

He flicked on the light, fingers struggling to grasp the knob.

Nothing, just his trenchcoat.

It was too hot. Too stifling.

Air.

He needed air!

Staggering to the porthole, he yanked it open and welcomed the sharp chill that rushed in. Allan leaned against the wall, eyes closed as he fought to catch his breath and sooth his racing heart.

After that fight, any and all memory of the Alphian ceased. He couldn’t even recall what happened once he woke up. Because they sure as hell didn’t go from being overrun by slavers to being back at their home port without any sign there was even a hostile force occupying the ship.

Only one man had memories of Scarlett that went past Allan’s; Tom.

His friend and trusty right-hand man. The closest person to Scarlett on the ship prior to her mysterious disappearance.

Allan hoped he could have shed some light on Scarlett. Maybe Scarlett somehow drove off all the slavers after knocking Allan out, accessing some type of beast mode or something. She was an alien, and could shapeshift, so it wasn’t entirely implausible.

But no.

Tom’s last memory of her was Scarlett heading off the ship into the woods. Tom had gone after her, only to find himself face to face with the same slaver Scarlett was after. The slaver attacked him, but Scarlett showed up in some animal form and attacked the slaver. She won the fight but was stabbed in the process. Tom tried dragging her back to the ship after she shifted back to that half-human form, but then his memory too went dark.

That was it. The trail ended. Went cold. With no hope of recovering the fractal memories.

Maybe Scarlett was around longer, and had some alien way of wiping their memories. Why, then, did he have any memory of her at all? If she truly aimed to wipe all memory of her existence, he should have forgotten her in totality.

Instead he was left with only partial memories and no explanation that could even remotely make sense of the event.

Every port they stopped at, every contact he knew, he asked. When Scarlett Hyde rang no bells, he tried the false name she gave at first; Ice Shadow. Still nothing.

He tried her description, her species, her family, everything.

Nothing.

As if neither she nor her species even existed in the first place.

A knock sounded on his door, and Allan turned away from the window to stare at the clock by his bed.

05:00 am.

His port watch wasn’t due for another few hours, so it couldn’t have been someone calling him for that.

“Al?”

Tom. What was he doing up this early?

Passing through his dayroom, Allan opened the door and found Tom looking almost as disheveled as himself. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Tom rubbed his arm. “It… happened again.”

Allan’s eyes widened. “Scarlett.”

Tom nodded.

Allan stood to the side to let him in. “You too, huh?”

Tom straightened, looking slightly more alert as he sat on the couch in Allan’s dayroom. “Same dream?”

“What other dream would it be?” Allan growled.

Tom wasn’t put off by his tone, but then again he never was. “What are the odds, huh?” he said in a feeble attempt to lighten the mood, a weak smile accompanying the joke.

Allan wasn’t amused. “Real funny.” He leaned on the table, pushing his hair back. “This is the fifth time in two weeks,” he growled. “I do not need this. We got that proud peacock prancin’ ‘round like he owns the damn ship, orderin’ us to and fro like damn dogs. I don’t need this headache on top of it.”

“At least the captain ain’t givin’ us any issues.”

“Don’t think that old man would notice if I scuttled the damn ship,” Allan grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Probably not.” Tom tilted his head. “Don’t think the dreams mean anythin’, do ya?”

“Concurrent dreams about an alien that we both know had the power to alter dreams?” Allan said. “It’s fishy.”

“Think she’s comin’ back?”

Allan shrugged tiredly. “Hell, Tom, I don’t know.” He glared in the direction of the door. “At least Sakharine’s finally tracked down the second ship. Then we can be back at sea, and I’ll have other things to keep my mind on.”

“Yeah, can’t wait to have that guy off.” Tom shuddered. “Gives me the creeps.”

“Feelin’s mutual.” Allan stretched. “Guess I may as well get coffee, not like I’m gettin’ any more shuteye today. Want some?”

Tom nodded, stretching too. “Won’t say no.” He shuddered. “Anythin’ to keep awake after that nightmare.”

Allan understood his hesitation with going back to sleep. Tom’s dream was far worse than his, with the man being hunted down in dark woods by a slaver bent on murder. Scarlett’s animal form wasn’t exactly comforting either, Tom describing it as a large tiger-looking beast with saber teeth that was a third again the size of a normal tiger.

“Alright, I’ll be there in a minute. Maybe the cooks have somethin’ already.”

Tom nodded. “I’ll wait outside.”

As Tom left, and Allan headed back to his room, the first mate mumbled under his breath.

“I really hope it was just coincidence.” He punched the door open. “Because I cannot deal with anything else.”

#karaboudjan #tintin 2011 #allan thompson #tom karaboudjan #anachronism fic #my writing

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