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whatisonthemoon · 1 year

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Even in South Korea, Few Know Extent of Rev. Moon’s Empire (1988)

▲ From a recent Tongil Heavy Industries PR video

https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/politics/1988/03/28/even-in-south-korea-few-know-extent-of-rev-moons-empire/9cff7bc3-2ad1-4d37-8d6f-8bac81934659/

Fred Hiatt Washington Post March 28, 1988

SEOUL -- In a skyscraper office high above the Han River, men in identical navy athletic jackets and women in tailored brown suits worked their way through piles of papers and files.

In one corner of the large room crowded with wooden desks, a portrait of the Rev. Sun Myung Moon sat on the floor, leaning against a wall. It was the only visible clue that this recently opened headquarters of the Tong Il Co. Ltd. was the control room of Moon's business empire in his native land, the flagship of Unification Church enterprises in South Korea.

Moon's business efforts in the United States, from fishing boats to newspapers to flower-selling in airports, have been objects of curiosity and extensive investigations. But even within South Korea, few people realize that the church also controls one of the largest and fastest-growing conglomerates in this nation's fast-growing economy.

The Tong Il Co. alone, one of more than 20 firms associated with the church in South Korea, employs more than 5,500 people and last year sold nearly $200 million worth of auto parts, machinery and weapons. Total sales for the seven largest firms in the conglomerate were estimated at $460 million, an increase of 40 percent over the previous year, according to business analysts here. The Tong Il group's products include machine guns, ginseng tea, axles and ornamental pagodas carved from stone.

Although it began as a rudimentary firm manufacturing shotguns and relying on church members' unpaid labor in 1959, it has evolved into a modern industrial combine that connects to the church only at the top, analysts say. The businesses remain shrouded in mystery, however, and one of the most puzzling mysteries concerns the source of their rapid growth. For while profits have been low or nonexistent for many years, new capital has continued to surge into the conglomerate, analysts said.

In the United States, many analysts have assumed that funds for the church's money-losing operations, such as The Washington Times newspaper, have been funneled from South Korea. But analysts in South Korea, where the church has invested vast sums in money-losing enterprises, have made the same assumption, in reverse. "Where is the money coming from?" one stock analyst asked. "Nobody knows."

"It's a mystery on the stock exchange," agreed Kim Goon Ho, an analyst at Coryo Research Institute. "Tong Il's future is bright, because the prospects for the auto parts and machine industries in Korea are bright. But the source of capital is a mystery."

Some analysts, such as former church member Lee Dae Bock, believe that much of the money comes from profits generated by church-related businesses in Japan. In particular, marble vases and religious objects produced by the Il Shin Co. in Korea are sold at high profit in Japan, Lee said.

The Japanese Federation of Bar Associations supported that claim in a report this month that accused businesses connected to the Unification Church of using unfair pressure tactics to sell such supposedly supernatural objects at extremely high prices. The lawyers' group condemned what it called an "unprecedented victimization of consumers."

A spokesman for the church in Tokyo, Hiroshi Sakazume, said the church has no connection to the sales businesses, adding that "worshipers have the freedom to choose their own occupation."

"We presume the existence of satans standing behind the Japanese Federation of Bar Associations," Sakazume said.

After rapid growth in the past several years, the conglomerate -- known as a chaebol in Korean -- plans to invest an additional 200 billion won ($264 million) for growth and modernization during the next three years, according to a recent analysis in Business Korea magazine. This investment comes despite a reported net profit of less than $10 million in 1986 and net losses in prior years, according to a report by the Management Efficiency Research Institute.

"The biggest puzzle for local businessmen and the general public was the seemingly unending source of such huge sums of money," Business Korea reported.

Church and company executives declined repeated requests for interviews, although one official agreed to answer selected written questions on condition he not be named. This account is based on those answers and on company publications and interviews with Korean businessmen, investment analysts, journalists and former church officials.

Church spokesman Sakazume, in Tokyo, also provided the following statement in written Japanese when asked for comment by The Washington Post:

"We have nothing to do with any kind of business, because the church is not engaged in profit making of any kind. Worshipers have the freedom to choose their occupation. There are some left-wing people in the Japan Federation of Bar Associations who deny the existence of God.

"We deeply regret that for their own reasons they persecute religions and infringe on the freedom of religion which is guaranteed by our constitution, using the mass media, such as the Asahi Shimbun {newspaper}, as a tool. We want to arouse media people's attention not to be used by them. We presume the existence of satans standing behind the Japan Federation of Bar Associations."

Moon founded the Unification Church in Korea more than 30 years ago. About one-fourth of South Korea's 42 million people are Christian. The church has had limited success in recruiting followers here, with outside observers estimating membership at about 20,000 and the church claiming 400,000.

Nonetheless, the church presence here has been considerable, and controversial. Its strongly anticommunist philosophy encouraged close working relations with the authoritarian and military regimes that ruled South Korea for much of the past three decades, and government aid has been instrumental in the church's business growth, according to former officials.

The church prospered especially under the late president Park Chung Hee, who ran South Korea from 1961 until his internal security chief assassinated him in 1979. The Park regime designated Tong Il as a weapons manufacturer, protected its auto parts business and worked closely with church anticommunist activities.

Lee Dae Bock, for example, who served as a church official for 20 years, was secretary general of the Seoul chapter of the Federation for Victory over Communism when he resigned in 1983. He said the church maintained close ties with South Korea's omnipresent internal security forces through such organizations.

The Korea bribery investigation in Congress in 1977 and 1978 unearthed a CIA memo that linked the formation of the Unification Church to Kim Jong Pil, first director of the Korean CIA and now an opposition party leader in Seoul. Kim denied any links to the church in a recent interview.

Jonathan Park, the son of Bo Hi Pak, Moon's top deputy and a key official in church-affiliated businesses in the United States, said in a recent interview that there was no financial connection between church companies and the South Korean government. "I am 100 percent confident there is no government financial support or contribution," Park said. "And as far as I know, there never has been."

The Korea bribery investigation, which focused on Korean influence-peddling in the United States, also prompted the regime to distance itself from Moon's church, as did criticism from mainstream Christian churches. The government of president Chun Doo Hwan, who held office from 1980 until last month, was "very careful not to come too close, but also careful not to stray too far," according to Yu Jae Gol, a journalist who investigated the church's financial empire for the respected Shin Dong-A monthly magazine.

Tahk Myeong Whan, a preacher who is Moon's most persistent critic here, said the church continues to enjoy close ties with police. Tahk has tracked the church and other groups he calls cults for more than 20 years through his International Religious Research Institute.

Tahk said he has survived booby-trap bombs set in his car and other attacks, most recently when dozens of young men interrupted a lecture he was giving and beat him, breaking his leg.

Certainly, government aid was instrumental in Tong Il's early growth, according to former officials and company documents. Moon's first business venture was the Yeohwa Shotgun and Air Rifle Co., established in December 1979 to produce and sell bird-hunting guns.

Lee Dae Bock, who eventually concluded that the church was "a money-making business posing as a religion," said that sales languished until Moon himself took charge of the business.

"He ordered all leaders and congregations to sell rifles," Lee said. "He allocated quotas. . . . The basic method of making money was to exploit the labor of congregations."

Business improved further in the mid-1960s when the company won a government contract to produce mock wooden rifles for high school and university military training, Lee said. In 1968, the company changed its name to Tong Il, which means unification.

Four years later, the government designated Tong Il as an official producer of transmissions and axles, according to company documents, probably for military vehicles as well as for heavy trucks and buses. The company also won a government license to make firearms that same year, Yu said.

Since then, Tong Il has grown into "the recognized ROK {Republic of Korea} leader for small- and medium-caliber gun and cannon barrels," according to one company catalog. Products include Vulcan antiaircraft guns, heavy machine guns and grenade launchers.

Chae Hee Pyung, a Tong Il official, said at a conference last fall that military business, including a technology link with Rockwell International, accounts for more than 30 percent of the firm's sales.

Like the other companies in the conglomerate, Tong Il does not advertise its connection to the Unification Church. But the president of Tong Il is Moon Sung Kyun, described by Yu Jae Gol as a distant relative of the Rev. Sun Myung Moon.

And, according to stock market documents, the publicly traded company is 32 percent owned by the Tong Il Religion Support Foundation, which is headed by another relative, Moon Seung Yong. Yu said the church uses the foundation to control its entire financial empire.

A senior official of The Washington Times said that during a visit to the Tong Il plant several years ago, he and other executives were told by a company official that Tong Il provided direct financial support for the newspaper. "I was told that company provided $25 million of the subsidy we get," said the official, who asked not to be identified.

Moon's overall organization has invested more than $200 million in The Washington Times and related publications, such as Insight magazine, since the paper was founded in 1982, according to Times executives. The paper's subsidy last year was $35 million, these executives said.

The Tong Il company was built on the labor of church members, Lee said. "They never paid them, up until 1975," he said. "After '75, they started paying low wages."

Church members would frequently live in company dormitories, rising at 5 a.m. to pray before photographs of "the Real Father and Real Mother," Lee and Tahk said, meaning Moon and his wife. Nonchurch members came under strong pressure to convert.

In recent years, however, Tong Il has recruited more nonchurch members with technological skills and military backgrounds, a company official said. The official said that only 5 percent of the work force now belongs to the church.

Last summer, Tong Il endured two months of damaging strikes at its factories on the southern coast. One issue, Lee said, was non-church members' complaints about discrimination in promotions, a charge the company official denied.

"My judgment is that they had more-than-average damage from labor disputes last year," stock analyst Kim Goon Ho said. The strikes have accelerated automation plans, according to the company.

Moon's best-known company in South Korea is not Tong Il, but its affiliate, Il Hwa Co., meaning "One Peace." Il Hwa, with 2,500 employees, is the nation's largest exporter of ginseng, a native root said to have health-enhancing properties, and recently moved successfully out of the health foods market with the soft drink McCol.

Il Hwa is not listed on the stock market and is believed to be owned entirely by the church and its foundation. Its sales increased from $51 million in 1985 and $69 million in 1986 to an estimated $132 million last year, according to the Management Efficiency Research Institute.

"The ultimate goal of Il Hwa is to enhance the health and happiness of all mankind," the company said.

The church foundation also owns 44.5 percent of the Il Shin Co. (meaning One Belief), which makes decorative pagodas and religious objects out of stone and marble. The company sells most of the objects in Japan, where its hard-sell tactics -- warning of disaster if pagodas are not purchased -- and markups of 1,000 percent or more have brought criticism from some consumer groups.

Recently, the company has diversified into production of building materials for domestic use.

A fourth company, Hankook Titanium, is 26.1 percent owned by the church foundation and 24 percent owned by a related foundation in Japan, according to stock records. The company, which recently benefited from a government decision to bar DuPont from building a similar plant in South Korea, makes materials used in paint and other industrial products.

Tahk said that Moon controls more than 50 firms altogether, while Business Korea identified 23 such firms. Their interests include fishing, construction, trading, water bottling, brickmaking, jewelry handicrafts, machinery sales and printing and publishing. The church recently applied for permission to publish a daily newspaper in Seoul, according to the Korean press.

In addition, the church is a major holder of real estate. On one of the most valuable plots of land in Seoul -- a $200 million lot near the National Assembly -- the church has unsuccessfully sought government permission for a 100-story skyscraper.

Staff reporter Michael Isikoff contributed to this report.

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eirian-houpe · 2 years

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Chapters: 1/5 Fandom: UC: Undercover Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Frank Donovan/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Frank Donovan, Jake Shaw, Alex Cross (UC: Undercover), Cody (UC: Undercover), Monica Davis (UC: Undercover), Original Characters, Carlos Cortez, Paul Bloom Additional Tags: Angst, Drama, Canon-Typical Violence, Human Trafficking, Extremely Dubious Consent Summary:

Donovan is missing. Has the pressure of being commander of an SOG unit, a husband, and new father finally got to him? And will the team sell out to protect their own lives?

A/N: This is the first chapter of this fic that I’m moving over from another site, and when all that’s done, I will be deleting that account.

Teaser

"This is taking too damn long. What is going on? What's wrong?" The accent he had been trying for so long to be rid of infused his voice with a richness that was at once incredibly sensual and terrifyingly dangerous.

"Ivan, relax. You worry too much."

"Ivan!" he corrected, irritated, stretching out the vowel as a long 'ah' sound. "I've told you many, many times – I will begin to think you do it deliberately to annoy me."

He squared up to the man, drawing himself up to his full height and the other man swallowed and backed up a step.

"You do not want to do that, my friend." He knew the other man, Matt Russell, and his companions had witnessed his temper and had been astounded by it… shocked even, he surmised, because it had been a long time before any of them had dared to call him off. He had been forced to demonstrate early in their association that he was no push over, and that he was just as serious as they in their plans and schemes.

Read more on AO3

#UC: Undercover #angst #drama #dubcon #canon-typical violence #human trafficking

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doctorbitchcrxft · 2 months

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Wendigo | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, Dean's a dick but so is the reader

Word Count: 8817

A/N: Happy Saturday! Enjoy the next chapter!! Taglist/Requests are open!!

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You were curled up against the backseat of the Impala writing in your journal and humming along to Dean’s Foreigner cassette tape when Sam jerked awake in the front seat. You jerked up as well, concerned.

Dean shot his brother a worried look. “You okay?”

Sam blinked and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, I'm fine.”

“Bull. Nightmare?” you asked.

The younger brother just cleared his throat in response.

“You wanna drive for a while?” Dean asked.

You and Sam gave him an incredulous look.

“Dean, your whole life you never once asked me that,” he laughed.

“Just thought you might want to. Never mind.” He rolled his eyes and returned them to the road.

“Look, man, you’re worried about me,” Sam sighed. “I get it, and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay.”

His brother just hummed in response.

“I’ll take you up on that driving offer, though,” you chimed in.

“Not a chance, sweetheart.”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“And I told you I wasn’t listening.”

“Dick.”

Dean just scoffed in response.

Sam’s unfolding of a map brought the conversation back on track. “All right, where are we?”

“Just outside of Grand Junction,” you answered. You leaned over his shoulder and pointed at the spot labeled “Grand Junction” and drew a trail with your finger over to a spot labeled with the coordinates Dean had found in John’s journal.

Sam hesitated before speaking again. “You know what? Maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon.”

Dean shook his head. “Sam, we dug around there for a week. We came up with nothing. If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica—”

“We gotta find Dad first,” Sam finished.

“Dad disappearing and this thing showing up again after twenty years, it's no coincidence.”

“Wait, showing up again?” you asked. Even after poking around at Stanford, this was the first you’d heard of a previous encounter with the creature.

“I thought Sam would’ve told you,” Dean said.

“Told me what?”

Sam turned to face you. “You remember what I said about my mom dying? She died the same way Jess did.”

You nodded in solemn understanding.

The car went quiet again; the silence only broken by the older brother. “Dad will have answers. He'll know what to do.”

Sam scanned the map again. “It's weird, man. These coordinates he left us. This Blackwater Ridge.”

“What about it?” you asked, putting your chin on Sam’s shoulder to look at the map.

“There's nothing there. It's just woods.” He put down the map, looking past your head at Dean. “Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?”

Dean just shrugged in response.

The three of you found yourselves in a ranger’s station in Lost Creek National Forest just outside of Blackwater Ridge. You and Sam scanned a three-dimensional map of the forest atop a large table in the center of the room.

“So Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote.” The brunet tapped his finger against the ridge’s label on the map. “It's cut off by these canyons here, rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place.”

However, his brother’s attention could not be pulled away from a picture on the wall. “Dude, check out the size of this freaking bear.”

You walked over to him, and he was right. The thing was massive. The man standing behind its corpse looked like a dwarf in comparison.

“There’s about a dozen or so grizzlies in the area,” you added.

You and the boys were startled by a ranger’s voice coming from behind you. “You three aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?”

“Oh, no, sir, we're environmental study majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper,” Sam assured him, laughing awkwardly.

Dean grinned and raised a fist. “Recycle, man.”

‘I could hit him. Jackass.’

The ranger obviously did not believe him. “Bull.”

Your eyes flicked to Dean, who was unmoving.

“You're friends with that Haley girl, right?” the ranger continued.

“Yes. Yes, we are, Ranger— Wilkinson.” Dean faltered only to read the ranger’s name tag.

“Well I will tell you exactly what we told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater until the twenty-fourth, so it's not exactly a missing persons now, is it?”

You shook your head.

“You tell that girl to quit worrying, I'm sure her brother's just fine.”

“We will.” Dean paused only for a moment. “Well, that Haley girl's quite a pistol, huh?”

“That is putting it mildly.”

You laughed. ‘I’m sure we’d get along great.’

“Actually,” Dean stopped the ranger from leaving the room. “You know what would help is if I could show her a copy of that backcountry permit. You know, so she could see her brother's return date.”

The ranger eyed Dean curiously, but still got him a copy of the permit.

Dean laughed smugly as the three of you left the station, waving the paper around.

“What are you, five?” you asked him.

“Listen, sweetheart, I consider this a major success.” You quirked a brow at him, mildly annoyed he called you that stupid name again. “This eliminates a lot of the groundwork we normally have to do.”

“Fair point,” you shrugged.

Sam broke the somewhat comfortable silence. “Are you cruising for a hookup or something?”

Considering the thought you’d just had, you were taken slightly aback. “What do you mean?”

“The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for? Let's just go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?” Sam was more talking pointedly at Dean and not you. You came to a stop on your respective sides of the Impala.

You couldn’t quite see Dean over the top of the car. “I don't know, maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it?”

You could practically feel the look Dean was giving Sam.

“What?” the brunet scoffed.

“Since when are you all shoot-first-ask-questions-later, anyway?”

“Since now.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, biting the inside of your lip. “Really?’ you muttered, getting down into the car.

***

Sam walked a little further up the walkway to the Collins house than you and Dean did.

“Forty-five minutes in that copy room for this?” you inspected Dean’s small, fake park ranger ID.

“Can’t rush art, sweetheart.”

“Now you’re just working it into every sentence because you know it aggravates me.”

"Yup,” Dean chuckled.

You smirked lopsidedly and Dean knocked on Haley Collins’s front door. A quite beautiful, dark-haired girl opened it moments later.

“You must be Haley Collins. I'm Dean, this is Sam, and (Y/N), we're, ah, we're rangers with the Park Service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. He wanted us to ask a few questions about your brother Tommy.”

Haley hesitated. “Lemme see some ID.”

Dean held up the ID you’d previously been inspecting to the screen door. The girl looked between the ID and Dean.

“Come on in.”

“Thanks.”

The door swung open, allowing Haley to catch a glimpse of the Impala. “That yours?”

“Yeah.”

“Nice car.” She began leading the three of you into the home.

Dean looked back at Sam, mouthing something excitedly to him that you couldn’t quite make out. You rolled your eyes. You decided then and there you would push your attraction to him to the side for the rest of the time you were working with the brothers. To you, he was just an asshole playboy.

Sam’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. “So if Tommy's not due back for a while, how do you know something's wrong?”

You took in the sight of the table set for dinner and a young boy who looked to be about thirteen already picking at his plate of food.

Haley entered the room with a bowl and placed it onto the table. “He checks in every day by cell. He emails, photos, stupid little videos—we haven't heard anything in over three days now.”

“Well, maybe he can't get cell reception,” you suggested.

“He's got a satellite phone, too.”

‘Well, there goes that theory.’

“Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in?” Dean threw in.

The teenage boy clanked his fork against his plate, sharply stating, “He wouldn't do that.”

You eyed the boy, getting a read on him.

“Our parents are gone,” Haley said. “It's just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other.”

You nodded in understanding. As much as you were trying to dislike her, it wasn’t working all that well.

“Can I see the pictures he sent you?” Sam asked.

Haley pulled out her laptop to show Sam the folder of pictures and videos her brother had sent her. “That's Tommy.” You could hear the sadness in her voice.

She clicked through to the most recent video.

A scruffy, presumably twenty-five year old man appeared onscreen. “Hey Haley, day six, we're still out near Blackwater Ridge. We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow.”

Something flickered past outside the young man’s tent. Your brows furrowed.

“Well, we'll find your brother. We're heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing,” Dean assured her.

“Then maybe I'll see you there,” she answered. “Look, I can't sit around here anymore. So I hired a guy. I'm heading out in the morning, and I'm gonna find Tommy myself.”

“I think I know how you feel.”

Your eyes flicked over to Dean, growing angry at what you assumed to be an attempt at seducing the girl.

‘She’s mourning the potential loss of her brother, and you’re gonna try and charm her? Asshole.’

The younger Winchester once again broke you out of your thoughts. “Hey, do you mind forwarding these to me?”

“Sure.” Haley clicked away on her laptop again.

***

You and the boys wound up at a bar. The table was covered in newspapers, John’s journal, and beer bottles; some full and some half empty.

“So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic. Local campers, mostly. But still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found.”

You gestured to John’s journal, which Sam slid over to you. You began flipping through it.

“Any before that?” Dean asked.

Sam pulled out a newspaper to show his brother. “Yeah, in 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. Authorities said it was a grizzly attack.”

You leaned across the table, squinting at the headline. You felt Dean’s eyes flick to your breasts that had subsequently been pushed up in your wife beater as you leaned over.

You glared at him. “Stay focused, Winchester.”

Dean rolled his eyes, apparently unable to find his way to a witty response. You turned your attention back to the headline that read, “ GRIZZLY BEAR ATTACKS! UP TO EIGHT HIKERS VANISH IN LOST CREEK AREA.”

Sam pulled out his laptop. “Before that, 1959 and 1936. Every twenty-three years, just like clockwork.”

“You have WiFi in here?” you questioned.

“Don’t need it. Just wanted to look at Haley’s video.” He pulled it up from a folder on his screen.

“Oh, shit. I almost forgot. Can I see that?” You hopped off your stool to get between the two brothers. “Watch this.” You clicked through the three frames of the video containing the shadow you’d seen flash across the screen. “That's three frames. That's a fraction of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move.”

Dean reached across you to hit Sam’s shoulder. “Told you something weird was going on.”

Sam rolled his eyes, closing his laptop. “Yeah. I got one more thing.” He put a newspaper article between you and Dean. “In 'fifty-nine one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack. Just a kid. Barely crawled out of the woods alive.”

You skimmed the article briefly. “Is there a name?”

The only survivor of the attack in the article Sam showed you and Dean was a child at the time. He now lived a life of what appeared to be solitude. He drove a beat up truck that was parked haphazardly in his driveway and lived several miles out of the city. You took in the poor old man’s messy house as he led your trio into his living room.

“Look, ranger, I don't know why you're asking me about this. It's public record. I was a kid. My parents got mauled by a—”

Sam interrupted him. “Grizzly? That's what attacked them?”

Mr. Shaw lit a cigarette, took a deep puff, and nodded.

“The other people that went missing that year, those bear attacks too?” Dean’s tone was slightly pointed. “What about all the people that went missing this year? Same thing?”

The old man continued to take drags of his cigarette. He seemed almost scared to entertain any other explanation aside from a grizzly bear attack.

Dean continued to pressure him. “If we knew what we were dealing with, we might be able to stop it.”

Mr. Shaw shook his head. “I seriously doubt that. Anyways, I don't see what difference it would make.” He sat down in his recliner. “You wouldn't believe me. Nobody ever did.”

Sam sat down opposite the old man. “Mr. Shaw, what did you see?”

“Nothing. It moved too fast to see. It hid too well. I heard it, though. A roar. Like... no man or animal I ever heard.”

“It came at night?”

He nodded.

“Got inside your tent?”

“It got inside our cabin. I was sleeping in front of the fireplace when it came in. It didn't smash a window or break the door. It unlocked it.”

You tried to keep your face from conveying your intrigue and tinge of fear.

“Do you know of a bear that could do something like that? I didn't even wake up till I heard my parents screaming.” You could see Mr. Shaw becoming lost in his mind.

“It killed them?” Sam continued.

“Dragged them off into the night.” The old man shook his head as if to shake away the memories. “Why it left me alive... been asking myself that ever since.” He took a brief pause before reaching to the collar of his wife beater. “Did leave me this, though.” He pulled it down to reveal three long, deep claw mark scars. Through morbid curiosity, you were tempted to run your fingers over the jagged edges of the scarring. You couldn’t imagine how painful and angry the marks must have been when the poor man first got them.

“There's something evil in those woods. It was some sort of a demon.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Shaw. We’re sorry about your parents,” you told him, turning away. “Have a good night, sir.”

Mr. Shaw seemed too caught up in his own head to respond with more than a wave, letting a cloud of smoke slither out of his mouth.

*** Later that night, you and the boys had just booked a room in yet another crappy motel.

‘One of these days I’ll treat myself to a stay in a halfway decent hotel.’

Before the three of you would be turning in for the night, you were headed to Dean’s car to pack your bags for the early morning you were about to have.

“Spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors.” Dean broke your train of thought. “If they want inside, they just go through the walls.”

“So it's probably something else, something corporeal,” Sam said.

“Corporeal? Look at you, smartass,” you laughed.

“Shut up. So what do you think?”

“The claws, the speed that it moves…” Dean trailed off. “Could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog. Whatever we're talking about, we're talking about a creature, and it's corporeal. Which means we can kill it.”

“True,” you started. “But how are you gonna know what to bring to kill it with if we have no idea what it is?”

“Just trust me on this one,” Dean replied. “There’s not much a gun won’t be able to take care of.” He let the door to the motel almost completely swing shut behind him; nearly hitting you in the face.

You caught it just in time. “Right, right. Just like you ‘took care’ of Constance by shooting her.”

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” Dean raised a brow at you, just barely turning over his shoulder to give you his response. He started busying himself in the weapons box in the back of his car.

“I mean, just barely. Nearly caught me in the crossfire.”

Dean rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically. “And what a shame that would’ve been.”

“Hey!” You shoved his shoulder with yours.

He glared at you in response.

Sam, who had been quiet the last few minutes, spoke up. “We cannot let that Haley girl go out there.”

His brother was rummaging through the weapons box; haphazardly throwing guns into his duffel bag. “Oh yeah? What are we gonna tell her? That she can't go into the woods because of a big scary monster?”

You found a shotgun that was slightly smaller than the rest, giving it a once over before moving to put it in a duffel bag of your own. Before you could fully get it settled in the bag, Dean took it from you.

You went to protest, but Sam cut you off by saying, “Yeah,” as if it was obvious.

Dean turned his attention away from you and your shotgun long enough for you to steal it back.

“Her brother's missing, Sam,” he tried to reason. “She's not gonna just sit this out. Now we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend.”

Dean seemed to notice you had taken the gun back and glared at you. He picked up his own duffel, and you closed the weapons cavity.

“Finding Dad’s not enough?” Sam countered while you closed the trunk. “Now we gotta babysit too?”

You and Dean gave Sam a look.

“What?” he snapped.

You shook your head.

“Nothing,” Dean replied. He threw the duffel bag at him and walked off.

***

You yawned and pulled yourself into a tighter ball on the backseat of Dean’s Impala. You hadn’t gotten much sleep last night for a reason you couldn’t quite place.

“Don’t get too comfortable, sweetheart, we’re here,” Dean told you.

“Fuck.” You grabbed yours and Dean’s duffel bags off the seat next to you and got out of the car to feel loose gravel grating against your boots.

A man who looked to be in his late fifties was up ahead of you next to a Jeep with Haley and the teenager you recognized as Haley’s younger brother. You approached the other three from behind Sam and Dean.

“You guys got room for three more?” the older brother asked.

Haley crossed her arms. “Wait, you want to come with us?”

“Who are these guys?” The older man pointed at your group.

“Apparently this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue.”

Sam headed past everyone, and you followed.

You assumed the middle-aged man was the guide Haley had talked about hiring the previous day. He was very skeptical of the three of you. “You're rangers?”

Dean’s confidence never wavered. “That's right.”

“And you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?” Haley was apparently skeptical, too.

“Well, sweetheart, I don't do shorts.”

‘That’s what he calls me.’ You couldn’t quite understand the pang that went through your chest when he used that nickname for her. You pushed the thought aside once again, reminding yourself that you weren’t special in Dean’s eyes. To you, he was becoming more of a playboy asshole with each passing moment. You hoped your attraction to his beautiful green eyes and sharp jawline would soon turn to disdain.

Speaking of which, he appeared next to you as the guide spoke once more. “What, you think this is funny? It's dangerous back country out there. Her brother might be hurt.”

You turned around, trying to explain Dean’s attitude away. “He knows that. He just has a funny way of showing it.” You hoped Dean didn’t miss the bite in your tone. And from the way you could feel his glare burning a hole through your skull, you were sure it wasn’t lost on him.

The guide shook his head, brushing past you and the brothers. He headed into the forest, and you followed a few paces behind. You would never admit it, but the woods had always unsettled you just a bit. You tightened your grip on your bag and pushed forward.

Dean had apparently learned the guide’s name from Haley while you were lost in your own anxiety. “Roy, you said you did a little hunting.” He quickened his step to pass you and get up next to Roy.

“Yeah, more than a little.” The response came gruff and disinterested.

“Uh-huh. What kind of furry critters do you hunt?”

You could feel where this was going. ‘Don’t fucking provoke him, Winchester.’

“Mostly buck, sometimes bear.” The disinterest was ever present in Roy’s tone as he continued to scan the treeline in front of him.

Dean passed him up, doing that obnoxiously confident backwards walk again. “Tell me, uh, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?”

Suddenly, Roy grabbed Dean’s jacket roughly. You nearly flinched.

“Whatcha doing, Roy?” Dean’s tone had hardened.

Roy grabbed a stick, and peering around Dean you could see the jaws of a bear trap close around it inches from Dean’s boot.

“You should watch where you're stepping. Ranger.”

‘Damn.’

Roy dropped the stick and took the lead once more.

Dean turned around to the rest of the group. “It's a bear trap.”

You scoffed.

You could hear Haley’s quickened step crunching leaves as she passed you to catch up to Dean. “You didn't pack any provisions. You guys are carrying a duffel bag. You're not rangers.” She grabbed his arm, spinning him to face her. “So who the hell are you?”

The teenage boy passed his sister and Dean. You and Sam hesitated behind Haley, shooting Dean a quizzical look. Dean jerked his head for the two of you to go on. You followed Sam forward, but hung back close enough that you could hear Dean and Haley’s conversation.

“Sam and I are brothers, and we're looking for our father. (Y/N) is—” you were interested in this explanation, “—a friend of ours.”

‘Oh, so we’re friends now.’

“He might be here, we don't know. I just figured that you and me, we're in the same boat.”

“Why didn't you just tell me that from the start?”

“I'm telling you now. 'sides, it's probably the most honest I've ever been with a woman. ...ever. So, we okay?”

‘Wonder how many times he’s used that line.’ You caught that same squeeze happening in your chest happening again. You desperately wished to get ahold of yourself and snap out of it. ‘He’s just pretty to look at. He’s a complete douche. Get it together, girl.’

You had missed Haley’s response to Dean’s “heartfelt” admission, but heard “And what do you mean I didn't pack provisions?” You heard the rustling of a plastic bag behind you, and remembered the bag of peanut M&Ms he had bought at a gas station before coming here. You heard Dean start walking again, and you hurried ahead to catch up with Sam and not look like you were snooping.

Dean had apparently noticed you were hanging back and chuckled to himself. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

He walked up beside you. “Jealous?”

“What?” you turned to him, feigning disgust. “Fuck no.”

“So… you were just snooping because…?”

You wanted to smack the smug grin off his face. His amusement at your aggravation riled you up even more. “I was just curious what she thought of us. And to be frank, I don’t exactly trust your ability to explain things away. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” You knew he didn’t believe you. “That’s all.”

You petulantly stole the bag of peanut M&Ms from him.

“Hey! (Y/N)!”

You marched on.

“This is it. Blackwater Ridge,” Roy announced after what felt like hours of walking. Your anxiety around getting lost in the forest was only deepening. That was what it all boiled down to. You had a fear of not being in control, and the idea of a place where every “landmark” looked the same, wildlife ruled the terrain, and being alone in it was pretty much a death sentence, scared you pretty severely. Not to mention, the time you almost bled to death in the middle of the woods had another hunter not found you.

You had no means of identifying where you’d come back from. All the trees seemed the same to you. You had no idea how you were going to get back to the car at the end of the day; if you were even going to make it out of here by the end of the day. You had been walking for so long that you were sure you’d be sleeping out here tonight. The thought of that frightened you even more.

What truly unsettled you was that the sounds you had been hearing up until you made it to Blackwater Ridge— crickets, leaves rustling, birds chirping— all of it had been silenced.

“I'm gonna go take a look around,” Roy announced.

The younger Winchester stopped him. “You shouldn't go off by yourself.”

Roy’s snark almost rivaled Dean’s. “That's sweet. Don't worry about me.” He waved his gun around and pushed between the two brothers to head deeper into the forest.

Dean turned to the rest of your group. “Alright, everybody stays together. Let's go.”

‘Great. More fucking woods.’ You marched forward, trying to put on a brave face.

Sam’s eyes softened when he caught sight of you. “You okay?”

Apparently, your “brave face” wasn’t as brave as you thought. “Yeah, why?”

“You look… kinda nervous.”

“Yeah, I am. I’m, uh, kinda scared of the forest, honestly.”

“Aw, sweetheart,” Dean’s mocking tone interrupted your vulnerable moment. “You’re scared of a little woods?” He jutted out his bottom lip, feigning a pout.

“Fuck off, Winchester. I’m fine.”

“Whoa, touchy. Relax.” Dean held his hands up in surrender. “Was just poking fun, that’s all.”

“Okay, well, it wasn’t funny. So, fuck off.” You rushed ahead, still white-knuckling the duffel bag on your shoulder.

Before Dean could catch up to you or respond, Roy called out from quite a bit ahead. “Haley! Over here!”

Haley took off in the direction of Roy’s voice, closely followed by you. Haley froze at the sight in front of her. “Oh, my God.”

In the clearing Roy had found, bloodied, torn open tents surrounded mutilated camping supplies and backpacks. Deep gashes in the tent material and the surrounding trees were jagged and stained with blood around the edges. The sight wasn’t making your queasiness any better.

“Looks like a grizzly.”

‘No, it doesn’t, Roy,’ you thought.

Haley’s backpack hit the ground next to you, and she tore through the campsite; screaming her brother’s name.

Sam moved to quiet her down. She kept screaming. A much harsher “Shh!” passed Sam’s lips, finally getting the girl to settle down.

“Why?” she questioned defensively.

“Something might still be out there,” he answered.

Dean called his brother’s name from the other end of the campsite. You followed Sam over to the sound of Dean’s voice.

You crouched down next to Sam. Dean snapped a stick and pointed to a set of drag marks on the ground. “The bodies were dragged from the campsite. But here, the tracks just vanish. That's weird. I'll tell you what, that's no skinwalker or black dog.”

The three of you stood and returned to the campsite to find Haley crying on the ground over her brother’s broken and bloodied phone.

“Hey, he could still be alive,” Dean told her. She shot him a confused and slightly angry look.

Out of nowhere, a scratchy male voice started gutturally calling, “Help! Help!”

Roy was quick to run to the shouter’s aid. However, you weren’t so sure it was a real person screaming like that.

“Help! Somebody!” came again.

The brothers started off to follow Roy.

“Wait, guys!” you called, not wanting to be left alone despite your hesitation.

“C’mon, (Y/N)!” Sam called.

You dropped your duffel in your rush to follow Sam’s voice. When you found where the group had gathered, you could see the brothers searching the treeline. You licked your teeth, upset that your intuition was right. Your group had found no one.

“It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?” Haley said, confused.

“Everybody get back to camp,” you ordered.

You followed the path you were pretty sure would get you back to the mangled campsite. Thankfully, your sense of direction was right, but all of your supplies had been taken by the time you returned.

“Our packs!” Haley exclaimed.

Roy grumbled, “So much for my GPS and my satellite phone.”

“What the hell is going on?” Haley was catching on.

“It’s smart. It’s trying to isolate us so we can’t call for help. It knows we won’t last long without supplies,” you stated.

“You mean someone, some nutjob out there just stole all our gear.” The guide’s voice was hard and angry.

“I need to speak with you two. In private.” You pulled the brothers aside by their jackets. Dean shrugged your hand off him.

“Can I see your dad’s journal?” you asked. Yours had been taken along with your duffel bag.

“No, why?” Dean asked petulantly.

“Please, dude, c’mon.” You were not in the mood.

“Give it to her, Dean,” Sam chimed in.

Dean rolled his eyes and handed it over.

You flipped through until you found a page marked by a First Nations-style drawing of a tall figure with long claws labeled “Wendigo.” You looked up at the boys expectantly.

“Oh, come on, wendigos are in the Minnesota woods or, or northern Michigan. I've never even heard of one this far west,” Dean responded.

“Think about it, Dean, the claws, the way it can mimic a human voice,” you tried to reason.

“Great.” He took his pistol out of his belt. “Well, then this is useless.”

“I told you guns don’t work on everything,” you quipped.

“Shut up.”

Sam took the journal from you and handed it back to his brother. “We gotta get these people to safety.” He led you and Dean back to the group. “All right, listen up, it's time to go. Things have gotten...more complicated.”

Haley seemed pissed. “What?”

“Kid, don't worry.” Roy’s tone was almost patronizing. “Whatever's out there, I think I can handle it.”

“It's not me I'm worried about. If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave. Now,” Sam countered.

“One, you're talking nonsense. Two, you're in no position to give anybody orders.” Roy was now getting in Sam’s face.

“C’mon, Roy, chill out,” you told him, pressing a hand to Sam’s chest to keep him from stepping to Roy.

Sam let you keep your hand there, but still bit back at Roy. “We never should have let you come out here in the first place, all right? I'm trying to protect you.”

“You protect me? I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you good night.” The guide was so close you could smell the chewing tobacco on his breath.

Sam still refused to back down. “Yeah? It's a damn near perfect hunter. It's smarter than you, and it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid sorry ass out of here.”

Roy laughed mockingly. “You know you're crazy, right?”

“Yeah? You ever hunt a wen—”

Dean pushed you out the way and shoved his brother back. “Relax!”

Haley got between you, the boys, and Roy. “Stop. Stop it. Everybody just stop. Look. Tommy might still be alive. And I'm not leaving here without him.”

You considered for a moment the implications of what may happen if you allowed them to stay.

Dean broke the silence. “It's getting late. This thing is a good hunter in the day, but an unbelievable hunter at night. We'll never beat it, not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves.”

“How?” Haley asked.

“I’m not gonna sugarcoat this,” you began. “We don’t really have the time for the ‘monsters under the bed are real’ talk. This thing is a Wendigo. I’m gonna start carving some symbols into the ground. No one crosses the circle once I’ve drawn it. Got it?”

Haley nodded at you. “What can I do?”

“Build a fire with— sorry, I never caught his name,” you gestured to the teenager next to her.

“Ben,” Haley told you.

“Ben. You two start gathering enough wood and tinder to keep a fire going. Don’t go too far, though, please.”

She and Ben nodded at you before setting off.

“Thank you,” you called after the Collins siblings. “Sam, Dean, help me with the Anasazi symbols.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean said. You were surprised at his compliance.

After a while of scuttling across the forest floor drawing a circle of Anasazi symbols around the campsite, the sun had set. Haley and Ben had long since returned and were tending the fire. As you finished the last symbol, you brushed the dirt off your hands on your jeans.

Haley looked up at you from her place by the fire. “One more time, that's—”

“Anasazi symbols. It's for protection,” Dean explained. “The wendigo can't cross over them.”

Roy laughed, feeling the need to assert the fact he thought this was bullshit.

“Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy,” Dean told him, clearly fatigued of the man’s attitude.

Roy turned his attention back to the treeline with his gun over his shoulder. You followed Dean over to where Sam sat away from the group at the edge of the campsite.

“You wanna tell me what's going on in that freaky head of yours?” Dean asked his brother.

“Dean—” the younger one began to protest. You sat down next to him.

“No, you're not fine.” Of course, he already knew what Sam was going to say. “You're like a powder keg, man, it's not like you. I'm supposed to be the belligerent one, remember?”

You laughed. “Yeah, I’ve got enough of that attitude with just him, Sam.”

Dean nudged the tip of your boot with his harshly. You returned his glare petulantly.

“Dad's not here. I mean, that much we know for sure, right? He would have left us a message, a sign, right?” Sam’s mind was clearly going a mile a minute.

“Yeah, you're probably right. Tell you the truth, I don't think Dad's ever been to Lost Creek.”

You decided to just sit back and listen for a moment before throwing your two cents in.

“Then let's get these people back to town and let's hit the road. Go find Dad. I mean, why are we still even here?” Sam threw his hands up in frustration.

“This is why.” Dean held out his dad’s journal to his brother. “This book. This is Dad's single most valuable possession—everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he's passed it on to us. I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business.”

Sam shook his head. “That makes no sense. Why doesn't he just—call us? Why doesn't he—tell us what he wants, tell us where he is?”

“I dunno. But the way I see it, Dad's giving us a job to do, and I intend to do it.”

Sam’s eyes began to well with tears. “Dean, no. I gotta find Dad. I gotta find Jessica's killer. It's the only thing I can think about.”

“Okay, all right, Sam, we'll find them, I promise. Listen to me.” Sam looked up at Dean. “You've gotta prepare yourself. I mean, this search could take a while, and all that anger, you can't keep it burning over the long haul. It's gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man.”

Sam looked away again, still fighting the tears congealing in his water line. “How do you two do it? How does Dad do it?”

You let Dean take that question. “Well for one, them.” He gestured to Haley and Ben. “I mean, I figure our family's so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little bit more bearable.”

You paused, looking down at the dirt and twigs below you before speaking. “It’s kind of the same for me. I don’t have a family anymore.” You felt Dean’s gaze on you, but kept the burning in your cheeks at bay. “This is really all I’ve ever known. I know I couldn’t go back to a normal life after all this. So, I do what I can to help everyone else’s lives feel a little more normal. Not everybody needs to know what’s really out there. It kinda brings me peace knowing I’m helping somebody else live their life relatively worry-free.”

Dean continued. “I'll tell you what else helps.”

You looked back up at him.

“Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can.”

You smiled at Dean genuinely for the first time.

A twig snapped, breaking you and the boys out of the little bonding moment you’d just had. The same, slightly unhuman grainy voice screamed out again from somewhere in the trees. “Help me! Please!”

Dean stands with his gun. You thought about pointing out the fact that it was useless, but decided to keep it to yourself.

“Help!” the strained sound came again.

Sam shined his flashlight through the tree line.

“He's trying to draw us out. Just stay cool, stay put,” Dean told the group.

“Inside the magic circle?” Roy quipped.

“Shut up, would you?” You snapped, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Help! Help me!” The voice seemed to become more distant before a low growl emanated from just outside the circle.

Roy pointed his gun at the sound. “Okay, that's no grizzly.”

“Oh, now you believe us,” you quipped.

“(Y/N),” Dean warned, still facing the outside of the circle.

Something rushed past where Haley and Ben were standing. She let out a scream.

“It's here,” the younger Winchester stated.

The guide shot at the rustling bushes, and then again. “I hit it!” He took off before you could protest.

“Roy, no!” you immediately ran after him.

You could hear Dean behind you addressing the Collinses, but barely registered it while trying to follow Roy.

“Roy! Come back!” you called.

“It's over here! It's in the tree!” the man called back.

Just as you reached him, something grabbed onto Roy’s shoulders and began pulling him up into the tree above.

“Roy!” you grabbed his ankles, doing your best to pull him back down to the ground.

Roy was screaming above you, and the Wendigo’s strength was too much for you. Roy’s screaming was cut off sharply by a snapping sound. In that moment, you knew he was gone. You let Roy’s legs go and dropped back down to the ground.

The Winchester brothers appeared at that second, rushing to your side.

“You okay?” Sam asked, helping you up. “Where’s Roy?”

You shook your head. “He’s gone.”

You and the boys headed back to camp to find Haley and Ben huddled together. Haley was caught off-guard by your return, and nearly took you out with her makeshift torch-weapon. “Shit!” she yelped. “You scared the crap out of me!”

“Sorry,” you laughed. “Easy, tiger.”

She threw her torch back into the fire. “Where’s Roy?”

Your smile faded. “I tried to help him. I’m sorry.”

She nodded somberly. A saddened, heavy air fell over your camp as the remaining five of you tried to go to sleep before your undoubtedly busy day tomorrow.

Haley and Ben settled down near the fire with tatters of backpacks and tent material as pillows and blankets respectively. You and Dean forced Sam to lay down and rest because it was evident via the bags under his eyes that he’d had none over the last several days.

“I’ll take first watch,” you told Dean, settling your back against the stump of a tree near where Sam had started falling asleep.

“Not a chance, sweetheart.”

“First of all, stop calling me that,” you snapped. “Second, it wasn’t a suggestion. I’m taking first watch. Go to sleep.”

“Why are you so insistent on this?” Dean furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“Why don’t you trust me?” you countered.

“I don’t know, maybe because you’re the last person to have seen my dad before he ‘mysteriously disappeared’?”

“You’re not seriously suggesting—” you scoffed, and Dean cut you off again.

“Maybe because I don’t even know you. Maybe because you so readily agreed to just hitch a ride with Sam and I the day Jessica died. Maybe those are some good reasons not to trust you.”

“Dean, I had nothing to do with your dad’s disappearance. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m on my own. Sorry that I was just excited to finally have someone willing to take me along with them. And I don’t give a shit about you, honestly. I do give a shit about Sam, though, and I’m not gonna leave while he’s in this headspace. And I wanna help you find your dad.”

“Why do you care so much?” he hissed in retaliation.

“Because I don’t have any family. I want to help reunite yours. Like you said earlier, it helps you feel a little better and sleep a little easier at night.” Your voice had softened considerably, and you turned your attention from Dean to your hands folded in your lap.

“Fine, but after we find my dad, you’re gone,” he responded after a moment.

“Fine.” You turned away from him, hugging your knees to your chest. “I’m still taking first watch.”

“Whatever, (Y/N).” You could hear Dean moving around behind you.

“Goodnight,” you said.

All you got was a huff in response.

At some point that night, Sam was actually the one to take over your watch. He’d woken up from a nightmare, and you knew he wouldn’t be getting back to sleep any time soon. You did your best to get some sleep despite your heightened sense of awareness from your unsettling surroundings and the anger you still felt at Dean after your argument.

When you did awaken, Sam was sitting against the tree next to you, Dean was talking to Haley about the origin of Wendigos, and Haley was grilling Dean about how he knows about monsters.

“Kind of runs in the family,” was all Dean answered her question with.

You felt Sam push off the tree behind you. You still hadn’t rolled over from your sleeping position.

“So we've got half a chance in the daylight,” Sam announced to the group. “And I for one want to kill this evil son of a bitch.”

“Well, hell, you know I'm in,” you heard Dean respond.

“'Wendigo' is a Cree Indian word. It means 'evil that devours',” Sam explained.

You began stretching while Dean continued educating Haley and Ben. “They're hundreds of years old. Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian, or other times a frontiersman or a miner or hunter.”

“How's a man turn into one of those things?” Haley asked.

“Well, it's always the same,” the older Winchester continued while you started to make your way over to them, brushing leaves out of your hair with your fingers. “During some harsh winter a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. Becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp.”

“Like the Donner Party.” That was the first you’d ever heard Ben speak.

“Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities. Speed, strength, immortality,” Sam continued.

“If you eat enough of it, over years, you become this less than human thing. You're always hungry,” Dean finished.

“So if that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?” Haley waited for the answer with baited breath.

“You're not gonna like it.”

“Tell me.” Haley steeled herself.

“More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it's awake it keeps its victims alive. It—” Dean seemed to be searching for the right words, “—uh, it stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there.”

“And then how do we stop it?”

You spoke up for the first time, holding an empty beer bottle, a white cloth, and a can of lighter fluid you’d found from near the camp. “Guns are useless, so, Molotov cocktail, baby.”

You could swear Dean cracked a smile at you, but you refused to acknowledge it.

The sun had risen much higher since your crew had first started walking. You had passed multiple trees with bloodied claw marks on them. It was starting to unsettle you, quite honestly. You’d just passed the seventh or eighth claw-marked tree when you decided to bring Sam’s attention to your thought process.

“You know, I was thinking, those claw marks are so clear and distinct. Not at all as jagged as they were on Mr. Shaw’s scar or the tree where the thing snatched Roy. They were almost too easy to follow.”

Almost as if on cue, a low growl rumbled from above and trees rustled. Haley looked up before jerking herself out of the way. And good thing she had, because Roy’s corpse soon landed where she’d stood.

Dean inspected Roy’s corpse while Sam helped Haley up. “His neck's broke.”

The growling continued.

Upon hearing the sound, Dean started to bark out, “Okay, run, run, run, run, go, go, go!”

You immediately split. You were always quite a fast runner and light on your feet. You and Haley took the lead of the group and could hear the boys’ thundering footsteps behind you.

Before you knew it, the growling had landed right in front of you. You and Haley were brought to a skidding halt before the creature. Haley yelped as the creature grabbed your legs and began dragging the two of you. You took the bag of peanut M&Ms you’d stolen from Dean out of your jacket’s inner pocket. You let the bag’s contents out slowly as sticks and rocks scraped up your dragging body. The last thing you felt was a sharp pain on the back of your head before you vision blacked out completely.

The next time you came to, the first thing you felt were your aching wrists and hands on either side of your face. You could faintly hear Dean calling your name, and your vision began to get less hazy as Dean’s voice became more clear.

When Dean’s annoyingly beautiful, worried face finally came into focus, you said the first thing that came to mind. “Aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper.”

You could hear Sam laughing behind Dean and Dean sighed. If you didn’t know any better, you would say he sounded relieved.

Sam reached above you to cut your wrists down. “You okay?”

Despite your aching joints, you said, “Yeah.”

Sam helped you over to one of the cave’s walls. “You sure you're alright?”

“Yeah. Yep,” you groaned. “Where is he?”

“He's gone for now.”

“Oh, thank god,” you breathed, making Sam laugh a little. “Oh, sweet.” You noticed the stolen duffel bags next to you and started rummaging through yours. Haley let out a shriek, causing you to jerk your head in her direction. She’d found her brother, and thankfully, he was alive.

“Cut him down!” Haley ordered. Sam got to work.

You found a flare gun in Dean’s duffel bag, saying, “Check it out.” to the rest of your group.

“Flare guns. Those'll work,” Sam responded, grinning.

You laughed, throwing one of the guns at Dean who caught it easily. He twirled it around his finger, smirking at you.

“Enough fooling around, let’s go,” Haley urged. She shouldered her brother, and with Ben’s help, started moving down the mine shaft.

You and Sam held up the rear of the group while Dean took the lead. Amidst the clunky shuffling of Tommy’s weakened body down the shaft, you could hear the same deep, low growling you’d heard in the forest.

“Looks like someone's home for supper,” quipped Dean, scanning the corridor ahead of him.

“We'll never outrun it,” Haley said.

Dean looked back at you and Sam. “You thinking what I'm thinking?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Sam responded.

“I don’t,” you chimed in.

“You’ll catch on,” Dean shot back. “All right, listen to me. Stay with Sam and (Y/N). They’re gonna get you out of here.”

“What are you gonna do?” Haley asked the older Winchester.

He winked at her, shooting her that same smile he’d shot you one of the first times you’d met him. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. He started yelling moments later, walking away from you. “Chow time, you freaky bastard! Yeah, that's right, bring it on, baby, I taste good.”

‘I bet he does.’ You surprised yourself. ‘What? What the fuck? He’s an asshole.’

Sam’s voice brought you out of your head. “All right, come on! Hurry!”

Your group rushed down the tunnel. You stayed in the rear, and Sam headed up to the front. He began leading your group down to where you could faintly see a bit of daylight peeking through.

And then, the growling again.

“Fuck,” you muttered. “Get him outta here!” you instructed the Collinses.

“(Y/N), no,” Haley told you.

“Go!” you urged her.

She finally nodded and started pulling her brothers down the tunnel with her. You aimed your flare gun at the direction where the growling was coming from.

“C’mon, motherfucker,” you grumbled, scanning the tunnel.

“(Y/N)!” Sam called from behind you.

You wheeled around to come face to face with the Wendigo. In your startle, you missed your shot with the flare gun. Your only other option was to take off after the three Collins siblings, closely followed by Sam.

“Come on, hurry, hurry, hurry,” Sam ordered the group. “Get behind me.” Given Sam’s size, he was able to hide all three Collinses behind him. You knew your pistol was no use, but you still aimed it at the creature anyway.

The Wendigo approached, taking its time in getting to you.

“Hey!” you suddenly heard Dean from behind the Wendigo. It wheeled around, only for Dean to shoot it in the stomach.

Flames curled up the Wendigo’s horribly disfigured body in twisted tendrils. The creature let out a howl before collapsing to the ground in a pile of burning embers.

Dean was revealed behind where the Wendigo previously stood. “Not bad, huh?”

Despite yourself, you grinned.

A quite chipper, clearly freshman EMT had patched you up upon your return to civilization. You had an uncomfortable laceration on your neck, a few scrapes above your eyebrow, and your wrists burned from where you had been tied up. You’d survive, it would just take you a few days to recover from.

You watched from a short distance as Haley approached Dean, both of whom had been patched up. You scowled as Dean smirked lasciviously at Haley and couldn’t help the bile rising in your throat when Haley leaned in to kiss Dean’s cheek. She said one final thing to Dean before walking toward the ambulance carrying Tommy with Ben.

“Thanks, (Y/N)!” she called to you.

You waved at her with a lopsided smile. She returned your grin before hopping into the back of the ambulance.

Sam motioned for you to come back over to Dean’s car.

“Man, I hate camping,” said Dean as you approached.

“Me too,” you shivered.

“Still scared of the woods?” he asked you, his tone slightly patronizing.

You ignored his tone and answered earnestly. “Definitely. Probably more so, now.” You crossed your arms over your body and hugged yourself.

A moment of silence passed before Dean addressed his brother. “Sam, you know we're gonna find Dad, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” he nodded. “But in the meantime? I'm driving.”

Dean lolled his head to the side dramatically before tossing the keys to Sam. Recalling your fight with Dean at the campsite, you hesitated to get in the car when the brothers did.

“(Y/N), what are you doing?” Sam asked out of the driver’s side window. “Let’s go.”

You nodded, conceding, and hopped into the backseat. You threw your legs up on the leather beside you and stared out the window. Out of the corner of your eye, you could swear Dean was staring at you.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #supernatural #dean winchester #supernatural series rewrite #spn #spn series rewrite

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cinnbar-bun · 4 months

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Trading Cards- Cross Guild's Day Off 1 (Cross Guild x Reader)

Summary: In which you work with the three Cross Guild officers and stumble across a new trading card game to introduce to them. Hilarity ensues.

Rating: SFW/Crack

Word Count: 1.8k

Notes: No relationships are defined, so feel free to headcanon whatever you want. I know it says x Reader up there and I wrote it in mind that it's a weird ass polycule but I made sure to leave it ambiguous for your reading pleasure. Reader is GN and gets Gumshoe'd, while Mihawk gains a gambling addiction. Minor swearing and violence (but funny).

A/n: Yes I collect the trading cards and I'll be damned if I don't put these three men through hell for funsies in this series (guess what's gonna happen next time).

"What's with all those boxes?” Buggy rubs his red nose as he twirls a knife in hand as you walk into the office.

“You’ll never believe this! Apparently, someone’s been selling trading cards of famous pirates and marines! It’s a crazy new thing!” You happily plop the boxes on your desk. “And so, I managed to nab a few boxes!”

Crocodile lowers the newspaper he’s reading to reveal his agitated face. “With whose money?”

“Oh, that’s no biggie,” you wave off.

“I’m docking your next paycheck,” Crocodile states as he goes back to reading. Mihawk raises a brow.

“I have to ask, can they really just sell cards of us like that?” The swordsman questions. “Besides, what makes cards like that so interesting? Isn’t this simply a child’s collection?”

“That’s what you think! But apparently, there are some secret rare cards everyone’s been dying to get their hands on!”

You get a dark blue box and marvel at it.

“Hey, why the hell is that Straw Hat on it?!” Buggy screams. “He’s a nobody! Who the hell wants a card of him?!”

“Don’t worry, there’s cards of you, I think,” you respond, and Buggy gasps before lunging for the box. “Where?!”

“I think it’s in one of them,” you point to the many boxes, and Buggy huffs.

“Well hurry up and get to them!”

“Don’t you guys wanna open them? They’re meant to be played in fun games,” you ask. “Here, I’ll separate them by fours, and everyone gets to make a new deck!”

“I have no desire to-” Crocodile begins as you drop the card packets on his desk.

“This is a strange form of games, but my interest is slightly piqued. I’ll take some,” Mihawk says, extending his hand. Buggy pouts as he’s the last to get them.

“Now, open!” You yell, while you and the Cross Guild leaders begin to open the card packets. Buggy is tearing through them, shuffling through the cards manically.

“HUH?! ALVIDA?!” He screams. “That’s not fair! How is she in this?!”

He gets more frustrated as he opens the remaining packets. “They all say ‘C’ on them!”

“They’re all common then,” you explain. Buggy lets out a sob at his bad luck. Mihawk and Crocodile ignore Buggy’s wails before Mihawk clears his throat.

“I’m not asking for any particular reason, but since this is supposed to contain the most famous pirates, does that mean Red-Haired Shanks is a part of this?” Mihawk asks, a curious tinge in his voice.

“I believe he is in here,” you nod. At your confirmation, Mihawk glares at the cards in his hands and tears them up.

“C. C. C. C. SR. SR. C. C. R. R. C. UC,” Mihawk reads aloud his card rarities as he opens the pack.

“Woah, who’re the SR’s?” You ask before Mihawk tosses the cards to the floor and opens another pack.

“C. C. C. C. C. R. R. UC. UC. R. C. C.”

“Mihawk, are you-”

“C. C. C. C. C. C. C. UC. UC. R. C. L.”

“Holy shit,” Buggy stares in awe as Mihawk’s hands move faster and his eyes frantically roam over the cards.

“C. C. C. C. C. C. C. R. R. UC. C. L.”

Crocodile rolls his eyes as Mihawk eventually covers his face with his hands, the non-Shanks having pile of cards a mess on the floor.

“What do you have?” The hooked man asks you.

“Let’s see…” you open some packets and shrug at the some of the common cards, before you smile at an SR card. “I got you!”

You proudly show off your new SR rarity Crocodile card. Crocodile motions you to step closer and gazes at the card. “Huh. That’s interesting. I better be strong.”

“Maybe. I mean, it is an SR, and that’s pretty good!”

“Why the hell are you an SR?! That’s bullshit! You got your ass handed to you by Straw Hat-”

Crocodile immediately silences Buggy by pressing his hook onto the clown’s throat. “Want to finish that?”

“N-no-”

You continue to hum as you go through more cards. “Oh, Boa Hancock!” You squeal. “She’s so cool!”

“Not as cool as us…” Buggy whines. Mihawk is still despondent on the couch.

“Woah, I got Mihawk, too!” You gasp as a very cool card of Mihawk sitting on his throne is in your hands.

“Okay, now that’s complete and utter crap! These two get in, but I don’t?! What the hell! I should burn these guys!”

“How did they find out how my outfit and room looked like…” Mihawk mumbled as his face scrunched up.

“You guys are getting so worked up over some silly cards,” Crocodile clicks his tongue as his cigar hangs from his lips.

“Easy for you to say! You at least have a card in here!” Buggy whines. “This is so stupid! (Y/n), give me the other boxes, now!”

“Hey, don’t grab them!” You swat your hands at the clown. “Crocodile still has to open his.”

“I don’t care about him! I want to find me!” Buggy grabs the first box you opened and notices a pamphlet.

“Huh? ‘Get your starter packs to begin playing’?” Buggy squinted as he went through the listed starter packs. “Let’s see… Straw Hat, that red-head-”

“Shanks?!” Mihawk jumps.

“Not that red-head,” Buggy interjects, and Mihawk sighs. “Kaido, Big Mom, Crocodi- wait a damn minute! How are you the face of one of the starter packs?”

“I am?” Crocodile blows a puff of smoke.

“Yeah! ‘Seven Warlords of the Sea’ starter pack! You jerk! Why is it you?!” Buggy screams angrily as Crocodile chuckles and twirls his cigar in his fingers.

“Well, I am the obvious choice, aren’t I?” Crocodile strokes his chin. “I am strong, handsome, and far more intelligent and renown than the others. Why wouldn’t they put me on the cards?”

“And humble,” you mutter.

“Another dock to your paycheck,” Crocodile adds, the smile on his face returning to his usual humorless appearance.

You slump your shoulders pitifully. “Crocodile, I can barely afford instant ramen at this rate.”

“Aw, it’s okay, Buggy’s here for you,” Buggy chuckles as he pats your back, relieved he’s not at the receiving end of Mihawk and Crocodile’s torment.

The four of you continue to open box after box of booster packs, with you mostly happy to just see the cool art, and Buggy hitting the floor in retaliation to his awful cards.

“Nothing! Not even one of me! And they’re all commons!”

“I really don’t know how that happened…” you pitifully look at him.

“You making fun of my nose?!” Buggy screamed, looking up at you as his makeup smeared down his face due to his crying.

“Oh…” you wince at the sorry state he’s in. “It’s okay, we can always-”

“Shiny foil!” Mihawk shouts, making everyone in the room jump. “Is it finally-”

He pulls out the card, only to scream in agony as he drops to his knees and lets the card fall through his fingers.

You curiously pick up the card, only to see it’s sadly not Shanks, but someone called… “Sogeking”?

“Who is this?” You stared at the card.

“(Y/n),” Mihawk shakily fumbles through his pockets and pulls out a bag of berries. “I don’t care what it costs. Go. Buy more boxes.”

He drops the bag in your hands and shields his eyes with a hand. Crocodile opens another packet and lets out a chilling laugh.

“What’s so funny, Croc?” Buggy asks, nervously anticipating how badly things will go when Crocodile is laughing like that.

“You’re looking for a card of Red-Hair, aren’t you?” Crocodile’s voice lowers, the smirk on his face widening.

“No we’re not!” Mihawk and Buggy shout at the same time, making you and Mihawk raise a brow at Buggy’s admission.

“Oh? So then it’s fine if I keep this card? Perhaps sell it even?” Crocodile holds up the card and everyone’s eyes are wide as you three gasp.

In his hand, is the Secret rarity Shanks card.

“You…” Mihawk says under his breath.

“How the hell did…” Buggy’s eye twitches.

“Woah… so lucky,” your eyes lighten. Crocodile’s chest rises with every laugh he lets out.

“Since no one else wants it, I think I may just sell it and get back the money (Y/n) stole for this!” He proclaims.

In an instant, Mihawk stands up and pulls out Yoru, pointing it at Crocodile.

“Hand it over.”

“You don’t get to make the demands here, Hawk Eyes,” Crocodile shakes his head. “What are you willing to offer?”

“Give it, or I’ll kill you.”

“Okaaay, well, there’s no need to kill each other-” you stand up, trying to get between the two men.

“I’m not asking again, Crocodile,” Mihawk threatens. Buggy scowls and then jumps to his feet, pulling out his knives.

“Yeah! We aren’t asking again! Hand it over!” Buggy yells, feeling confident with Mihawk’s strength at his side.

Mihawk locks his gold eyes onto Buggy and Buggy cowers in fear.

“N-never mind! Have it!” He surrenders.

You nervously think of what to do before you rip up the last packet in the room and pray to whoever is listening for another Shanks.

C. C. C. C. C. C. UC. UC. C. C. C.

You gulp. There’s only one more card. This card can either save your life, or lead to a massacre from Mihawk. Your fingers reach in and pull out the last card, and you raise a brow at the shiny gold border.

“What is this,” you murmur as you finally reveal the full card.

A Secret rarity Shanks card. But unlike Crocodile’s card, yours is a stunning art piece of Shanks. With a gold border and a badass look in Shank’s eyes, you’re in awe. Even Buggy gasps at the sight.

“M-Mihawk! We got you a Shanks!” You flail the card in your hand to draw his attention, and Mihawk swipes the card from you.

“Don’t do that! You’ll ruin it!” He lectures you and stares at the card. “Incredible. I never knew this was in here.”

He drops Yoru to the ground and presses the card to his chest, as if all the weight in the world was finally gone from him. Crocodile rolled his eyes and promptly threw his card to the ground in front of Buggy.

“Come the hell on, (Y/n)! I was negotiating!” Crocodile sighs in frustration and rests his chin on his hand. “I’m not paying you at all this week!”

You don’t even care anymore, crying tears of joy at the fact the sword that clattered on the ground beside you was not spearing your chest.

“Since we all got decks now, why don’t we try and play the game?” You innocently suggest. You lay out the multipage rule guide and manual as the three men surround you to take a peek.

Immediately after seeing the abundance of rules, all of you grimace and shake your heads.

“Maybe another time.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good.”

“Great idea.”

#one piece x reader #one piece oneshots #one piece #dracule mihawk #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #cross guild #cross guild x reader #cross guild's day off #buggy x crocodile x mihawk #buggy x crocodile x mihawk x reader #x reader

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howwelldoyouknowyourmoon · 2 years

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Sun Myung Moon struck his daughter over and over again ... out of love

▲ Front row, left to right: Nansook Hong, In Jin, Sun Myung Moon, Hak Ja Han, Ye Jin, and Hoon Sook (married to Heung Jin Moon after his death). Back row, left to right: Kook Jin, Hyun Jin, Hyo Jin, Jin Whi Hong (husband of Ye Jin), and Jin Sung Park (husband of In Jin). In Jin Tatiana Moon (extract from Nansook Hong’s book, In The Shadow Of The Moons: My Life In The Reverend Sun Myung Moon’s Family, page 101)

 “In Jin disapproved of my friendship with her sister [Un Jin] but she could be nice to me herself when it suited her purpose. She came to me once, asking to borrow some clothes so she could sneak out that night. Her own room was next to her parents’ suite in the mansion and she did not want to risk running into Father. Why not? I asked. She told me that recently she had come into her room on tiptoe about 4:00 A.M. It was still dark. She thought she was in the clear, when she saw Father’s shadow in a chair across the room.

As Sun Myung Moon struck her over and over again, his daughter told me, he insisted he was hitting her out of love. It was not her first beating at Father’s hands. She said she wished she had the courage to go to the police and have Sun Myung Moon arrested for child abuse. I lent her my best blue jeans and a white angora sweater and tried to hide how shocked I was by her story.

As much as anything about my new life in the True Family, the antipathy between the Moon children and their parents stunned me. Early on, I was disabused of the idea that this was a warm and loving family.”

Nansook Hong In The Shadow Of The Moons

Nansook Hong: “I snatched my children from Sun Myung Moon”

Sun Myung Moon punched women

#Sun Myung Moon #In Jin Moon #violence #Nansook Hong #true family #uc violence #abuse #child abuse

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the-eeveekins · 23 days

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I love G-Witch's ending. While I do wish the journey had been longer, that we had gotten more time with the characters and the world, I would not change that destination. I still want it to end with Suletta saving her family at Quiet Zero.

"It's too happy, no one died!" I actually love this! Gundam has 45 years of bittersweet and occasionally downer endings. We can have one ending that is almost unambiguously a happy one. People always talk about finding non-violent solutions, about solving problems peacefully. And in a Gundam first, Suletta does that. She solves a violent situation with non-violence, and just this once, everybody lived!

"That was accomplished with bullshit space magic though!" Look, setting aside the fact that Bullshit Space Magic has been a part of Gundam since the original (and is often MORE bullshit in UC), this show is called The Witch From Mercury. If there was any Gundam series where Bullshit Space Magic saving the day and solving the problem is thematically appropriate and should not be an issue, it's this one.

"The bad guys lived and escaped jail!" I'm fine with this, especially since every good character survived too. And it's not like they didn't suffer any consequences. Miorine dissvolved the Benerit Group. Their empire is gone, along with their wealth and power. They may be free (for now), but they're definitely miserable. With Shaddiq's help, Miorine exposed the SAL's crimes, and considering the precarious position they were in previously, it's likely there was a major shake-up. The power structures in space were completely shaken up and changed, and much of it's power was transferred to Earth.

"What about Shaddiq?" Look, I definitely understand the contextual issues with Shaddiq being the only martyr. But in the show itself, Shaddiq accomplished his goals. He got to see the Benerit Group dissolved and their assets placed in the hands of Earthian companies, all without further violence. He secured the freedom of the women working for them, and importantly, they all now work for Miorine in her efforts to improve Earth and make reparations for Spacians. And as a last gift and blessing to Miorine and her new family, he took the fall for Quiet Zero while he was at it. Shaddiq may be imprisoned unlike the former BG members, but unlike them, he is a happy and satisfied man.

It's rare for the main characters in Gundam to enact massive, systemic change for the better, especially permanently. Amuro, Kamille and Judau did not change the world in any significant fashion. Their world was still mired in conflict after their reapective conflicts, to the point that Amuro dies in a later conflict and Judau gets so sick of things not changing for the better that he abandons Earth and later the solar system. Yet there is a lot of criticism that Suletta & Miorine didn’t solve all of Ad Stella's problems, that they did their part and peaced out. But their part was destroying the immediate threat of Gundams and Quiet Zero, they dismantled the Benerit Group power structure and put it in the hands of Earth and they exposed the SAL. They made huge changes to the world and they didn't stop. Miorine is still using her company to make amends for the BG's crimes and improve the lives of Earthians. Suletta has built a school on Mercury and is now building one on Earth. Even if they're not going to be fighting on the front lines, they're still fighting to make their world a better place.

That's not to say the ending is perfect. I don't think Nika should have spent 3 years in jail because of a guilty conscience and because Martin is a snitch. I don't think you should ruin the thematics of Suletta facing down and battling Quiet Zero by herself, but the part of me who loves to see giant robots fight wishes there could have been a way to involve the Demi-Barding, Pharact and Schwarzette in more action during the end. If not at QZ, then earlier in the series.

I personally believe a lot of the criticism of the ending boils down to preference, and people not preferring how G-Witch chose to end things, rather than those things being objectively bad. I think a lot of fans struggle to accept that G-Witch was trying to do something smaller, something different, and they still can't let go of wanting it to be something it never tried to be. Did it do what it wanted to do perfectly? Definitely not. It forgot what it was at points in S2 and I'd argue it actually cooked too good with it's background details, making people want more of something it never set out to do. But ultimately it was never trying to be a 50 episode war epic focused on the wider world. It was about these two girls and their families.

Suletta & Miorine's scene together in the wheat field on Earth is perhaps one of my favorite scenes in anime. Maybe in any media. I wouldn't trade that moment for anything short of their actual wedding.

#discussion and discourse over the ending has been swirling lately #and I'll always defend it #i love the ending and I'm passionate about it #oh let's keep going #these days that are like precious gemstones #I'm sure they'll go on #just like this just like this #g witch #the witch from mercury #gundam #g witch spoilers

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kyleoreillylover · 9 months

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Beat Them or Join Them

Jey Uso x Reader

Summary: Jey has been trying to get you, his best friend to join him in The Bloodline. Will tonight finally be the night you listen to him?

TW: Typical wrestling violence, reader going to the medics.

A/N: The Jey bug got me, he is just too damn fine for me not to write for! 😫 Hope you guys like this! 😙

Jey watched as you got ready in the locker room, your SmackDown Women's Championship resting on a nearby table. You and Jey had been best friends for years, and he respected and admired your independence. But lately, he had been persistent in trying to convince you to join the Bloodline. He had this burning desire to protect you, and he knew he couldn't do it alone from the sidelines.

"Hey sweetheart.” he began, leaning against the doorframe. "You know how strong we are together. Roman, Jimmy, Solo, me... We could dominate this whole place."

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. "I like doing things my way, Jey. You know that."

Jey smiled, shaking his head. "Yeah, I do. But think about it. Together, we'd be unstoppable. The family backing you.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Being friends with Roman, Jimmy and Solo is enough ‘family’ for me."

Jey laughed, knowing you had your own reasons. "Alright, alright, I won't bug you about it too much. Just remember, it’s always an option. And I’ll have your back either way. ”

You smiled at him. He was too sweet. “I've got a title to defend tonight against Asuka. But-" Your smile widened when he grinned in anticipation. "-you can keep trying to sway me after I kick her ass. I promise.”

He nodded, still grinning widely. He moved past you and grabbed the title off of the table. You thought he would hand it to you, but he shook his head. "Nah, turn around." You rose a brow but complied. You felt his arms wrap around you as he leaned down to your height, feeling his cool hands on your skin while he fastened the championship around your waist.

You giggled when he playfully tugged at the strap of your title, swatting his hands away. He laughed with you, opening the door for you

“Now, you can kick some ass.”

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

The match was intense, and despite your determination, Asuka's offense was relentless. Neither of you let up. Just when you thought you had her right where you wanted her, Asuka's mist caught you off guard, blurring your vision. Despite the burning in your eyes, you managed to flip her over and roll her up for the win. The pain was intense though, and you were helped backstage by the medical team.

Jey rushed to the ring, concern etched on his face as he supported you. "You alright, sweetheart?"

You winced, leaning on him for support. "Damn, that mist stings like hell."

In the medical area, you cursed and fumed, furious at both the pain and Asuka. Jey held onto your arm, his touch grounding you amidst the chaos. "Easy, girl.”he said, his voice soothing. "You got the dub, and we'll deal with Asuka later."

Asuka's taunts still echoed in your mind, her words gnawing at your temper. "I'm gonna rip her apart, Jey. Nobody messes with me like this."

Jey's hand cupped your cheek, his touch calming you. "I get it, uce. But you're a champ. You still won. You're stronger than this."

Your anger slowly subsided as you took deep breaths, your focus shifting from the pain to Jey's presence. "Thanks, Jey. You always know how to calm me down."

He grinned, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "That's what I’m here for."

You hesitated, looking at him thoughtfully. "You really want me to join the Bloodline, don't you?"

Jey nodded, his expression serious. "We're a family, you are my family, babygirl. We look out for each other. Imagine what we could accomplish together."

You sighed, leaning your head against his shoulder. "I'll think about it, okay? But no promises."

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around you protectively. "That's all I ask."

The adrenaline faded, the meds kicked and you let your eyes close, letting yourself relax in the arms of the person you trusted the most.

Jey looked down at your sleeping form and he couldn’t help but smile at you. You looked precious, even while sleeping. And he knew then and there that he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if you got hurt.

He tightened his arms around you, bringing you closer to him, and promised himself that even if you didn’t join the Bloodline, whatever decision you decide to make, that he would protect you with his life either way, his family be damned.

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spookyspecterino · 8 months

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Grunt Work

Sam Coe x GN! Reader

GN! Reader. No pronouns, no use of Y/N, or reader descriptions used. Reader is referred to as Captain sometimes, like in the game.

Canon typical violence: blood, injury, mentions of death, guns, language, romance, kissing. All PG-13.

Spoilers for the “Grunt Work” Quest

It’s the very first UC Vanguard quest. If you haven’t played it yet, I highly recommend it. Out of my 20-ish hours playing it’s my favorite so far.

No spoilers for the end of game (I haven’t even gotten close to it yet) or anything to do with Sam Coe’s romance questline (I haven’t finished that either).

Non-spoiler summary for this fic/quest:

Reader and Sam Coe go to Tau Ceti II to check up on the settlers in the Tau Gormet Production Center.

More descriptions of the fic with a more specific summary below the cut. I’m being very specific about spoilers because for most people, myself included, we’ve only had the game for a week.

More specific summary of this fic/quest:

The UC Vanguard sends you on a routine mission to check in on a settler colony on Tau Ceti II—it turns out to be anything but routine. With Sam Coe at your side, your first Vanguard mission is a baptism by fire.

Characters: Hadrian, Sam Coe, Vasco (mentions of other characters: Cora Coe and Barret)

“Vasco, do a quick comms check for me. I want to make sure it’s working after it glitched out on the last planet.”

The tall robot makes some beeping and whirring noises. The way it stares into nothing bothered you at first, but after some time you’d gotten used to it—even appreciating how it followed commands without hesitation. Over by the ships on and off-boarding ramp, Sam says goodbye to Cora. A smile spreads across your face as you watch them.

The Frontier’s external lighting illuminates the surrounding landing site. An otherworldly moon hangs in the night sky. You take one more moment to do a last check of your pack’s contents. This was going to be a routine check-in mission, but it never hurt to be safe than sorry.

“Comms are operational, Captain.”

“Thank you.” You wave goodbye to Cora who smiles and waves back before returning to the Frontier. “Comms are good Sam, ready to go?”

Your companion saunters over with that signature ranger’s confidence. “Always.”

“Great. I think I’ve got everything. Vasco, have I got everything?”

“Scanning now.”

Sam shifts from foot to foot. “Storm’s rolling in.” He comments, looking into the distance. “I’d like to get there before it starts raining.”

Sure enough, muted thunder rolls on the horizon and the wind picks up a touch.

“Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses, cowboy.”

“I don’t even know what a horse looks like.” He mumbles.

Vasco beeps affirmatively. “The necessary items are present, Captain. However, you are carrying more than the recommended amount.”

You sling your pack over your shoulder with a grin, ignoring the second part. “Thanks Vasco. You know, for a second there Sam, I thought you were going to say something about your joints hurting.”

“Ha ha. I’m not that old.”

You make a teasing face at him as you start heading toward the compound’s lights in the distance. The trek isn’t bad, mostly flat terrain with a few rocks here and there. The wind continues to pick up, carrying the scent of rain.

Sam hops over a rock, taking his place by your side. “Not to sound too over-eager to get this Vanguard busy work out of the way, but, where’s our next stop after this?”

“I was thinking we could explore the rest of this system. How’s that sound?”

“You know me, no complaints here.”

A radio tower comes into view, red lights along the sides flashing periodically. Beyond it is the main compound.

“Oh, Cora asked to keep an eye out on books specifically about ship reactors. She thinks she can fix ours.”

You hike your pack higher on your shoulder, already feeling the soreness. Blast your incessant need to carry every type of weapon part with you at all times. “I’ll be on the look-out. If she can save me a few credits and fix it herself, she’s welcome to try.”

“She’s a brilliant kid, but let’s do it on a planet with an actual mechanic who can make sure it works after. I have faith in her, but she’s 11 and you can’t learn everything from books—”

��Hold up. Sam. Stop.”

He freezes, noticing your stock-still posture, eyes fixed on the wide-open doors of the radio tower. Bright light filters out into the night.

“Does that look like a body to you?” you ask him, pointing toward a slumped over shape laying against a supply crate.

“Sure does.”

Unholstering your pistol, you both crouch and move closer. The grass underfoot sways in the wind.

It’s a grisly scene. Multiple bodies litter the area. All settlers—dressed in civilian working clothes. Blood splatters dot the concrete, some trail back to a body. Sam whistles, short and low, to get your attention. He’s looking inside. On the table is a settler, face up, arms splayed out and gutted. Clothes stained a vibrant red. Deep claw marks gouge out sections of the floor.

“No bullets, no casings in sight.” He murmurs close to your ear. “And it’s all fresh.”

You don’t need to look at him to know he shares your particular anxiety. “Let’s check out the main compound.”

Moving out of the small building and down toward the tar mac, you’re about to say something about the wrecked ship when an alien scream interrupts you. It sets every hair on end. Never have you heard a sound like that, even on the many planets you’ve explored.

In little to no time after the scream, a sharp static crackles over your comms, making you jump. Sam shuffles closer, crouched low next to you. If the situation wasn’t so tense, he may have chuckled, but he stays frozen and somber faced.

“I am so glad to see you.” The voice, a woman’s, sounds heavy with relief. “I think it knows you’re here. Hurry up to the second-floor office, I’ll unlock the door.”

As you make your way into the compound, it feels like walking straight into the lion’s den. Every sense is on high alert. Lightning flashes, making you see things in the shadows that aren’t really there. Only Sam’s presence behind you keeps you level-headed.

The brightly lit, glass windowed office only makes you feel worse, like a sitting duck on display.

“I’m Hadrian.” The woman introduces herself curtly while holding her side. “Are you my saving grace?”

“Not exactly. I’m UC Vanguard—sent to check in on the settlers.”

“Well shit.” She leans against the table, eyes closed in pain.

“Please don’t tell me we’re dealing with a Terrormorph here.” Sam asks, beating you to the punch.

She sighs. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Shit. That’s bad news, Captain. Real bad.”

“Listen,” Hadrian starts, moving away from the table, “I know you’re just two people, but you have to help me kill this thing.”

“And why’s that? Why don’t we all just leave now?” You ask.

“It’s unique. It showed up way too early. Tau Ceti’s only been colonized for 20 years. If this is a new kind of Terrormorph that matures faster and shows up earlier, we need to know.”

“Damnit.” You hiss. “Terrormorphs that show up after only 20 years of colonization could wipe humanity off the map.”

“Exactly.”

Rain begins to fall on the large windows with a clatter. The rolls of thunder were becoming booming clashes now. Visibility was already reduced at night, but now the storm made things worse.

You relent, giving up any notions of leaving. “Alright. I’ll help. Got any ideas on how to kill it?”

Sam’s eyeing you particularly hard from where he stands.

“Yeah, turrets. But we need to bring them back online and get them powered up. The terminal’s on ground level at the far end of the warehouse.”

Sam grunts. “So, closer to the Terrormorph?”

“I’m not sure where it is right now. My best guess is it’s still around the outer edge of the facility. But there’s a tracking system you can use on one of the terminals.”

You run a hand over your face. “Ok. Tracker and turrets. That’s better than nothing. I can make do”

“Radio me when you’ve reset the system and I’ll calibrate it from here. Thank you for helping and good luck.”

You and Sam sneak out one of the office doors into the warehouse. Fat raindrops fall on the metal roof, amplifying the sound into a loud drumming. It doesn’t come close to the volume of your heartbeat in your ears.

“Vasco, come in.”

“Reporting, Captain.”

“Initiate full lockdown on the ship. Tell Cora we ran into some trouble and are taking necessary precautions. If she seems worried, give her a book from my locker.”

“Yes Captain.”

You shut off comms and sling your pack from around your shoulders, attempting a commanding tone that you’ve always needed to fake. “Sam Coe.”

His usual raspy, low voice is layered with apprehension. “Captain?”

You’re pulling out weapon pieces from your pack for your rifle. They’re big—heavy duty—and add a decent amount of weight to the gun. “Go back to the ship.”

“I had a hunch you were gonna pull something like this. No. No way.”

“That’s an order—”

“Don’t try that with me. You know it ain’t gonna work.”

You pause, just as you’re changing out the rifle’s .50 Cal magazine with a 9x39mm eight round clip. “Sam.”

“I’m staying.”

His eyebrows are furrowed. Mouth slanted in a stubborn, almost angry frown. You’d have to dig deep. “Cora can’t lose you.”

“You always pull that card. It’s lost its affect.”

“…I can’t lose you either.”

You’ve never used that before and quite frankly are surprised to hear it come out of your mouth. Maybe it’s too soon. Up until now, you and Sam have only been flirting—no real feelings or moves have been made. It’s a bit of a jump, but you’re sincere.

His eyes hold yours unflinchingly. The crease on his forehead lessens a little. “Then you know how I feel and why I’m staying right here.”

He’s one-upped you and you weren’t prepared for it. You murmur a “Damit Sam” and go back to modifying your rifle. Fighting is pointless, and his admission has your nerves shaken more than you’d like. “Stay glued to my side unless I say otherwise. If things turn sideways and I order you back to the ship, you’d better listen. Got it?”

“Understood, Captain.”

“I mean it.”

A hint of his familiar smile returns. “I heard ya.”

“And Sam…”

“Hm?”

“No heroics.”

He doesn’t respond, his brows pinch together again. It’ll have to do.

Moving through the warehouse went excruciatingly slow. At all times you wished you could just get up and run instead, but it would signal the monster almost immediately. The whole situation made you feel like you were prey, scared and small. The addition of Sam’s presence put a heavy responsibility on your shoulders and that made you even more careful.

Hadrian was on your comms as soon as the system was reset. She directed you to the tracker frequency tuner in the same room. While finding the frequency, the system went into high alert—detecting the major threat. Your watch begins beeping steadily, and then rapidly speeds up. The Terrormorph was getting closer to your position.

Your eyes met Sam’s just as the alien appeared on the roof of the building outside. Right in sight from the room’s windows you were in. A rough hand yanks you down to the ground. Sam is crouched damn near on top of you, shotgun aimed up at it. However, it doesn’t notice you two in the dark room. You slowly cover the watch face to try and muffle the beeping sound. Maybe it was the rain, or the creature was just playing games, but it moved on past to a different part of the facility. Loud footsteps fading as it leaves. The radar lessens to a low, steady beat.

“Hadrian, come in.”

“I read you. The turrets are going to need their power sources reset with the security system in lockdown.”

“Great.” Sam sighs, lowering his gun. His shoulder leans into yours as he gets closer.

“We’ll find them. Out here.”

Reaching for your rifle, your hands visibly shook. You can feel Sam’s watchful gaze.

“Last chance to leave.” You whisper, aimlessly checking over your gun. You feel his hand squeeze your shoulder reaffirming.

“Not happening.”

The first power source wasn’t hard to find. You took the slow route, keeping an ear out for any changes in the radar frequency. The power switch was like a beacon, a big red switch on a yellow panel—it stuck out like a sore thumb. When you flipped it lights came on, loudspeakers announced to stand back…and the radar went nuts.

“Out, out, out!” You hiss, pushing Sam toward the far end door. He doesn’t need to be told twice as he beelines it.

With Sam leading, you follow him, scrambling up onto the roof of the building near the turrets. Two of the six are online now. Two more switches and you’ll have a fighting chance. Maybe.

Behind you, further in the facility, things crash. For now, it seems you’re safe.

You huff, lightening the death grip you have on your rifle. “Ok, here’s the plan. We’re going to split up.”

“I’m not gonna like this am I?”

“Take the watch. Find the power sources. I’ll create a distraction.”

“No.”

“Sam…” you exhale, closing your eyes. Despite the sheer terror you feel, you manage a chuckle. “We’re not going to get anything done if you keep arguing with me.”

“Let me create the distraction.”

“No.”

“Now who’s arguing?”

“Your shotgun has no range—it’s effectively useless, you’d be dead in two seconds.”

“Fair point. Then give me your rifle, I’m a good shot.”

You’re already unclasping your watch’s band from around your wrist. “I’m not taking the risk.”

“What if I wanna take the risk?”

Shuffling over while still crouched, you bring his arm closer. The watch slides on and you make sure to fasten it tightly. “You already know I won’t let you. At least now you can radio Vasco if…”

It didn’t need to be said.

He looks at the device and back to you. “Why is this startin’ to feel like you’re on a suicide mission?”

You can’t look at him or you’d lose the last of your nerve. “I’ll be on that walkway over there. It’ll have to run through the turrets to get to me and they’ll still have a shot when it tries to climb up.”

The way Sam chews his cheek really underlines how unhappy he is with this plan of yours. “Remind me to have a word with you about your savior complex when this is all over.”

“Hm. I’m looking forward to it.”

A gentle hand wraps around your arm. His eyes are soft, pleading. His other hand cups your face, it’s rough and calloused, but warm. “If you need to run, then run. You don’t have to die for some Vanguard that sends you on a ‘routine’ mission they were too lazy to check first—or for a colony full of dead settlers. Ok? I want you back, with me, alive, and in one piece.”

You don’t trust yourself enough to speak, something sappy or cheesy may decide to come out, so you simply nod.

It isn’t enough for him. “Please, say you’ll come back to me. I need to hear you say it.”

If he wasn’t so close, he may not have heard you through the pounding rain. “I’ll come back to you.” You pretended that you meant it, that you believed it.

“Thank you.” His hand falls away to hold his shotgun. “Now let’s kill this thing.”

“Be safe.” You manage before turning and heading toward your position. The chill of the rain creeps through your spine, but the warmth from Sam’s hand lingers on your cheek. You try to hold onto that feeling.

The steel walkway is sturdy and grated, giving you a good vantage point of the surrounding area. Once in position, you set up your rifle and lay flat, adjusting the scope. Lightning flashes, the crash of thunder isn’t far behind it. Water runs down your face and you wipe it hastily to keep it from your eyes.

The bright fire of the flare casts everything in red. With a good toss, it lands directly in the middle of the kill lanes. Bringing out your pistol you shoot once, twice, up into the air. The alien screams and the sound of wrenching, tearing metal draws near.

The hulking creature appears at the far end of the kill lanes, focused on the flare. It’s huge, big enough to fill your scope’s sights. You breathe deep and exhale slowly as you take your first shot.

The round hits the Terrormorph square in the back leg, crippling it for a moment. Blood leaks out onto the ground below. It lurches before regaining balance on its five other legs, letting out an enraged roar.

More lights come on in the facility. Sam’s already found one power breaker. Two more turrets begin to flash and come online.

The monster’s head swings in a different direction. Toward Sam, no doubt. The realization fuels you with a cold fury. You crank the rifle’s bolt-lever, a long bullet casing flies out of the chamber with a cling. Sliding the lever back with a heavy clunk you even your breath and prepare to take another shot.

You take it, aiming for its other back leg, but miss—the shot glances off the ground. Six shots left.

The thing’s giant head swings back to stare at you directly. Through your scope it’s as if you’re staring it directly in the eyes. Its front legs stomp the ground, and it roars. It ambles forward right into the kill lanes. Four turrets open fire, knocking it off balance and sending it sprawling momentarily. You take another shot, this time severing its thinner front limb.

The thing howls, ear splittingly loud and shrill, but claws its way back onto its feet. The turrets are doing damage, but it isn’t enough. It lurches toward you with surprising speed. The turret fire follows. You take a shot and miss. You exhale and your breath comes out shaking.

It's at the base of the building your walkway is on as Sam flips the final switch and the last of the turrets power up. The Terrormorph slows down a little, struggling to climb the building with two of its limbs missing. You have another 130 seconds, maybe, before it reaches you.

Your fifth shot hits it in the back, effectively doing nothing. The thing is bloody and losing steam from the constant onslaught of all six turrets. You start to feel hopeful. There’s movement to your left. It’s Sam on one of the rooftops. You’re about to give him a thumbs up when lightning flashes—some of the facility machines spark, an alarm sounds, and all lights except for auxiliary backups flatline. An unlucky power surge from the storm.

The Terrormorph has reached the base of the walkway below and is trying to make its way up, now free from turret fire. This would be your chance to run, but something holds you there. A false hope maybe.

You hold your breath, take a shot, and hit it square in the face. It doesn’t stop, clawing at the thin metal for purchase. Pulling the bolt lever and sliding it home, you fire again, chipping its other back leg and causing it to stumble. Metal rails groan and collapse under the monster’s weight. It falls to the ground with a metallic crash. You don’t fire, yet.

Sam is still on the other roof. You wave him off, pointing to the ship. Trying to make it clear that this was the order to run. A clashing sound below snags your attention back to the monster. It’s testing out the strength of the rail supports.

You’re aiming again as it springs up and begins throwing its weight at the steel rods. The vibration of the metal groaning and shifting with each impact reverberates through you. This is your last shot.

You fire and miss entirely as a section of rails to your right collapse and bend, tugging your section down. You’re forced to let go of your rifle to hang on. It clatters to the ground below.

More support beams collapse and you can feel the structure groan before you even hear it, vibrating hard enough to numb your hands. Trying to climb up the tilting walkway was a mistake as the shift in weight caused the whole thing, with you attached, to fall entirely. The feeling of falling was short-lived, something sharp sliced at your leg as you fell into the railing and walkway debris below.

For a moment, you lay dazed and in pain. The sound of rain patters around you on metallic surfaces. The whole walkway and railing fell over, the area was littered with jutted angles and metal parts. Something shifted under the debris. Something big enough to toss heavy metal away with ease. Any hope of the Terrormorph getting crushed by the impact was gone as it reared back and screamed. Its eyes, all six or seven of them, landed on you.

There was no way of escaping, debris had fallen over you. A particularly large beam held you in place on your back. Your pistol, the last line of defense, dug into your hip uncomfortably.

Sensing it had you trapped, the creature took its time closing the distance. Your leg was devoid of all feeling except a vague sensation of warmth spreading around it. The rails on top of you pinned you down, but you managed to free your measly pistol.

Only three or four of your shots made contact, others glanced off the Terrormorph’s armored shoulders or missed entirely. Either way, the low caliber did nothing to it. With an empty mag, and nothing else to defend yourself with, your arm fell to your side. You just hoped Sam was smart enough to listen and go back to the ship.

A loud blast caught the monster on the side of its head, snapping it away from you, and causing it to stumble.

Apparently, he wasn’t.

Sam emptied three more shells into the creature before reloading with cool, practiced ease. One blast dislocated the Terrormorph’s other back leg. Chunks went flying.

It howled and thrashed as he kept unloading shells into it. When he was completely out, he dropped the shotgun and picked up a long rod of metal with a jagged, broken end. The sharp tip sliced clean into its ribcage. When the alien still tried to pull itself up on its remaining two feet, Sam pulled it out with a yank and drove it home into the thing’s head, right above the mandibles. It gave one final spasm and finally fell dead.

At last, the only sound around you was the rain.

Sam dropped the crude spear with a clatter, eyeing the body a few times as he rushed over through the debris.

“You ok?” he panted, kneeling down. His hands cupped your face, bringing the familiar warmth with them.

“Holy shit.” Was all you were able to say.

It made him laugh with relief as he moved to check you over. “And you said a shotgun wouldn’t do anything.”

His hands moved debris from your legs, and he hovered as you yelped in pain. “You’ve got a nasty gash here. We need to get you back to the ship for medical attention. Let me see if I can get this off you.”

With a grunt of effort, he pushed the beam up enough for you to pull yourself out. Your leg was bleeding badly, but nothing you couldn’t fix with some TLC and bed rest. The pain hadn’t set in yet, thankfully.

Near you was a chunk of the Terrormorph’s leg. Feeling oddly disconnected from yourself, you grabbed it, staring at the gross thing, and put it in your pocket for Hadrian.

Sam started taking out bandages and doing what he could to wrap your leg. You could see his hands were shaking now.

Against all odds you both were alive; you started to laugh.

Sam gave you an odd look. “Don’t go loopy on me.”

A giant smile broke across your face. “Wasn’t expecting to live. There goes my chance at a cool memorial or bragging rights.”

“Going face to face with a Terrormorph and only losing a chunk of your leg gets bragging rights. Believe me.”

“Nah. All the credit goes to you on this one. That was just badass.”

He grunted, throwing more debris out of the way, and trying to clear a path. “Wasn’t thinking about how cool it looked when I did it. I was just trying to save you.”

“You know I’ll be telling this story forever, right?”

He chuckles, helping you up, slinging your arm over his shoulder and wrapping his around your waist. “I can see Barret’s expression now.”

“‘Sam Coe, my hero’ is how I’ll start it.”

He groans playfully. “Please don’t.”

“It’s true.” You looked at him as your feet touched even ground. Your faces were close. You could see the rain drops clinging to his hair and beard. “You saved my life.”

When he looked over, his nose nudged yours from close proximity. He didn’t shy away from the contact. Your paces slowed to a stop. “I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again, either.”

Your grin was slow to spread as you glanced at his lips more than once. “Would you prefer a quippy one line as thanks?”

“Mm—no. Maybe something else though.”

You feigned ignorance as his eyes trailed down your face. “Oh? And what would that be?”

“I’ll let you think of it.”

“A hero’s song?” you joked, voice softening.

“Nope.”

“How about a poem?”

He faces toward the room Hadrian’s in with a low laugh and begins to walk again. “You know, if you were as much of a smartass to that Terrormorph as you are to me, it would have keeled over on the spot.”

You put your good foot down and hold it, halting any forward progress. “Ok, ok. I think I’ve come up with something.”

He’s still smiling as he looks at you. Your noses nudge again. “If you suggest a book or a short story—”

His surprised breath as your mouth presses to his is an award in itself. He stays motionless for a moment, as if his brain had short-circuited, before his lips move and mold to yours. Slow and tentative at first, exploratory. Soft and gentle as if he’s afraid of hurting you. His hand on your waist moves to your lower back, gripping your clothes. He leans into you, beard scratching the skin of your face. Your fingers slide through and tangle in his wet hair. It makes him pant into your mouth before kissing you again, more eager this time.

Breaking apart, you both linger close, hot breath mixing together. His forehead leans to yours, eyes still closed.

That raspy voice of his you love so much is the first to break the silence. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting you to do that.”

“You could have made the first move. I wouldn’t have minded.”

“Was never sure if you were just being quippy and flirtatious for fun or not.”

“It is fun, but it’s also because I care for you.”

He hums, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Good to know, we’re going to have to find time for this more often.”

You close the distance enough to ghost your lips over his. “We have time now.”

He hesitates, so tempted with the offer, but exhales instead. “You’re hurt and bleeding all over the place, I need to get you some medical help. Plus, Hadrian needs her damn samples.”

“Pshh. I’ve got plenty of blood left—and she can be patient.”

He starts walking again, bringing you with him, and pressing the gentlest kiss you’ve ever felt against the corner of your mouth. “Just wait until you’re healed. You won’t be able to keep me away.”

#Sam Coe x Reader #Sam Coe #starfield #gn reader

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haddonfieldwhore · 7 months

Text

wrong - jey uso

jey uso x fem!reader

word count: 2.6k words

warnings: implied/almost smut, cheating, angst, unhealthy relationship, reader x roman, scripted violence, language, roman’s a dick, kinda blurs kayfabe and real life

october 5th 2020 - hell in a cell

you hated this. you hated everything about this. you hated watching you boyfriend and his cousin, one of your best friends, almost kill eachother in a steel cage - and for what? to win a championship belt? to win the never ending ego battle that was working with roman? officials had run into the ring, trying to stop the carnage, but backed away as roman threw a tantrum, tossing the steel steps into the ring. jey was down on the mat, flat on his back as roman stood over him, steel steps in hand as he held them high above his head, spitting more egotistical bullshit at his younger cousin. you and roman had been together for nearly two years, and to say he was a different person than the man you had fallen in love with would be an understatement. jimmy and jey had become your closest friends, which made the current state of things between the three of them difficult for you. you always had to side with roman, you had to be in his corner, even when he was in the wrong; which lately, you felt had been most of the time.

you had been so distracted by what had been happening in the ring that you hadn’t seen jimmy run past you and down to the steel cage, pleading with roman to stop. you knew it would cause more trouble, but you ran after the older twin, hearing him beg for roman to put down the steps.

“that’s josh, fool!” jimmy yelled, checking over his younger brother. “you know who we are! what is wrong with you huh?” you realized how real it had become for the twins, and you couldn’t imagine how jimmy felt watching the match. to your disbelief, tears formed in roman’s eyes, and he tossed the steps to the side. he sank down to the mat, holding his head in his hands. “whatever you’re going through man, we can fix this!”

“i don’t know who i am anymore,” roman said, his voice shaky as he cried, and your heart broke. maybe the man you loved was still in there somewhere.

“no more of this,” jimmy pleaded, reaching a hand out to roman, who took it in his, resting his forehead against jimmy’s. “i love you uce.”

“i love you too,” roman replied, before pulling jimmy over jeys nearly unconscious form and into a head lock.

“no!” you yelled; the last shred of hope you had for roman to come to his senses fizzling out like a bucket of water poured on a match. jimmy desperately tried to shake jey awake, yelling in pain as the younger uso finally stirred.

“let him go!” jey yelled once he saw what was happening, and tears fell down your face. “let him go! i quit!” he yelled, the words needed to end the match. he repeated them over and over until the bell rang, and roman finally let go of jimmy. you pushed past the officials and got in the ring, immediately checking on jey.

“that’s cute,” roman taunted, standing up, and you glared up at him. there was a fire in your eyes that would’ve scared any normal man. “aren’t you gonna check on me? you gonna ask if i’m okay, sweetheart?” he asked, holding his arms out. you stood up and pushed him backwards, your hands hitting his chest hard.

“i should ask you who you are!” you spat, “because i sure as hell don’t recognize the man standing in front of me right now.” you became even more angry when he just laughed in response, before his expression turned dark.

“i am your tribal chief, and you will acknowledge me; just like he will,” he said, kicking jeys leg hard. you brought your hand up to slap him across the face, but he caught your wrist, and looked down at jey.

“hey jey, keep your bitch in line,” his words cut like a knife, and you pulled your arm from his grasp, kneeling down beside jey who was now sitting up. he stared daggers at roman, who took his championship belt from paul heyman, and walked out of the cell.

“get.. get john,” jey breathed, asking you to check on his older twin. officials were already tending to him and had him sitting upright when you looked over, and he nodded softly at you, giving you a thumbs up.

“he’s okay,” you said, as you placed a hand on jeys chest, helping steady him as he tried to catch his breath. “are you okay?” you held the side of his face gently, checking for visible injuries and he nodded, leaning into your shoulder as you wrapped your arms around him.

“i’m good,” he assured you. “i’m gonna kill him.”

“not today,” you said, helping him stand up, one of the officials helping you get him to his feet.

“when i see him-“ he said, ignoring what you had said.

“jey, slow down,” you pleaded as he tried to go after roman, who had disappeared backstage. you stood in front of him, blocking his line of sight from seeing where roman had went and making him look at you instead, your hands holding either side of his face softly. “look at me. it’s not worth it.”

“like hell i’m gonna let him talk to you like that,” he yelled in the direction your boyfriend had gone.

“and i appreciate that, but you can barely stand right now. not today.” you repeated, and he nodded, sniffling angrily. “just breathe, okay? for me?” he nodded again, and let the officials help him out of the ring. you sighed heavily, wiping the tears from your eyes as more people got jimmy to his feet.

“thank you,” you said to jimmy. “i’m scared he would have never quit if you hadn’t gotten involved. are you sure you’re okay?” you asked, and jimmy nodded. he was okay to walk on his own, adjusting his neck as he walked up to you and threw an arm over your shoulder.

“we good. you a’ight?” he asked, and you took a deep breath.

“yeah, i’ll be fine. i’m more worried about jey,” you admitted. “i’m scared he’s gonna do something stupid.”

“it ain’t your job to stop him,” jimmy shrugged, walking out of the ring. he had brushed it off, but you could tell by his face that he was worried too.

•••

you were asleep in bed when you felt the bed dip behind you, followed by arms wrapping around your waist.

“i thought i told you stay away from me,” you snapped. you and roman had gotten into a huge argument when you got back to your shared hotel room, and you had told him to find somewhere else to sleep for the night; or you would. you pulled yourself free of his grasp, and sat up, only to see that it wasn’t roman; it was jey. “what are you doing here?” you asked, as more questions ran through your head, like how did he get into your room. he was silent for a few seconds, sitting up and leaning against the headboard, before he answered.

“i wanted to check on you,” he said, and while your believed him, it seemed like there was more too it than that.

“in the middle of the night? jey are you crazy? what if roman had been here?” you asked, pushing his chest lightly. he scratched the back of his head, his cropped shirt rising up to expose his abs. you looked away, playing with your fingers in your lap.

“i guess that was a chance i was willing to take,” he sighed.

“jey he would’ve killed you if you showed up and he was here.”

“then i guess it’s a good thing he ain’t here. where is he?”

“i don’t know. i told him to leave or i would.”

“are you guys still…” he trailed off.

“i don’t know. we didn’t talk about that,” you admitted, and he gave you a funny look.

“what did you talk about?” he asked, and you sighed.

“does it matter? it was a screaming match, jey, and then i told him to get out. we both said some really nasty things to eachother.”

“so why do you stay with him?” he asked, and your eyes filled with tears.

“i don’t know. when i look at him it’s like i’m staring at a stranger,” you looked down at your lap again. “we talked about you a lot,” you admitted. jey’s eyebrows went up, and he waited for you to continue. “roman thinks i care about you more than i care about him.”

“roman needs to worry about him not caring about you enough,” jey argued. “does he treat you like that all the time?” he asked, referring to the incident in the ring.

“no, but it’s not the first time it’s happened either,” you sighed.

“that ain’t right,” jey shook his head. “he ain’t get to talk to you like that.”

“you think i don’t know that?” you snapped. “what does it matter to you?”

“i think you needa stop waiting for the old roman to come back. because he ain’t coming back,” jey warned, but never raised his voice at you. you sighed, knowing that he was right even if you didn’t want to admit it.

“what are you doing here, jey?” you asked quietly.

“i told you, i came to check on you-“

“you could’ve called or texted for that, there’s something else,” you pushed.

“maybe i just needed my best friend,” he admitted, and your heart ached.

“fine,” you sighed, laying back down, facing away from him. “come here.”

“don’t do that, don’t shut me out. you’re pushing me away,” he put a hand on your shoulder. you rolled over to look at him.

“jey, i’m still with roman.”

“do you still love him?” he asked, and you stared up at the ceiling, quiet for a while before you answered.

“no.”

he didn’t say anything, but laid down, pulling your back against his chest again, and you let him. you battled with the thoughts in your head, before you rolled over, wrapping your arms around jey and burying your face in his chest.

“jey…” you warned, as his hand trailed up the side of your thigh. you looked at him, and before you knew what was happening, his lips were on yours, kissing you deeply. instinctively, you kissed back, before pushing him off of you.

you stared at him with wide eyes, the kiss taking your breath away as you tried to wrap your head around what had just happened. jey pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, waiting for you to say something, each second going by painfully slow. he was relieved when you kissed him back, your hands tangling in his hair as his hands slid across any part of your body he could reach. his tongue slid past your lips, moving with your as he flipped you over so you were underneath him.

you moaned as he rolled his hips against yours, and you tugged at his hair, his hands sliding down your sides, and then pulled your hips upwards to meet his. you dragged your nails down his back, before bringing your hands around to the front of his pants, palming his length through his joggers.

“fuck, do that again,” he said, kissing down your neck as you did what he said. he rutted his hips against your hand and you slipped your fingers past his boxers. your hand wrapped around his length, moving up and down, and he bit down on your collarbone, moaning softly.

“jey,” you mused as he trailed kisses up to your lips again. your free hand tangled in his chain that dangled from his neck as he stared down at you.

“you know i’d do anything for you, right?” he asked, kissing you softly. “what do you need baby?”

“i need you,” you pleaded, and he nearly shivered when you said the words, your touch still driving him crazy. you pulled him down by his chain to kiss you again, and he tugged at your bottom with his teeth before smiling at you.

“are you sure?” he asked, and you nodded.

“please just fuck me.”

“how can i say no to that?” he smirked, kissing you again as his hands started to slide off your clothes.

•••

you woke up still tangled under the sheets with jey, and you smiled to yourself, gently tracing the intricate patterns of his tattoos with your finger. there were scratch marks down his back, and you felt a little bad looking at them, but remembered the hickeys that surely covered your chest, and decided you were even. thankfully jey had been careful, and you would be able to hide them easily enough with a t-shirt. jey stirred awake a few minutes later, his pretty brown eyes fluttering open to look at you. he pulled you closer, kissing you softly, and you giggled.

“good morning,” you hummed.

“good morning,” he replied, kissing you again. “are we good?”

“we’re good,” you assured him. “but roman can’t know about this; not yet.”

“are you gonna end things with him?”

“yes. i just…. i don’t know when. right now i think it would make things worse for everyone.”

“so fucking me behind his back is better?” jey asked, a joking tone in his voice.

“jey… you know i care about you; a lot. don’t think i’m using you -“ he interrupted you with a kiss.

“i know, you’re right. but if we don’t want him to find out we should get out of here,” he said, and you laughed. you kissed him deeply again, and he held you tight, like you would disappear if he let go.

“do we tell jimmy?” he asked, as you both got up and started getting dressed.

“i think he’s gonna figure it out. do you think i could travel with you guys and trinity?” you asked, pulling on your shirt.

“of course you can. if you think i’m letting you out of my sight you-“ it was your turn to shut him up with a kiss, and his hands landed on your hips, pulling you close. you kissed him deeply, before stepping back.

“thank you. i’ll pack my bag and meet you at your room?” you asked, and he nodded, kissing you one more time before throwing his jacket on and walking out of the hotel room. you sighed, trying to wrap your head around the last twelve hours, and a smile crossed your face as your eyes landed on the bedsheets tangled at the end of the bed. you packed your bag, throwing everything of yours into your suitcase as quickly as you could; you would organize it later.

you looked around the room one last time, before walking out, leaving your key card on the dresser, and walked to the elevator to go to the usos room. your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you checked it to see a text from roman. you ignored it, not bothering to see what he had to say as you arrived at the floor you were going to. you knocked on their door, and jey let you in. he had changed into new clothes and his hair was wet like he’d just gotten out of the shower.

“hey,” he smiled, and you returned it.

“long time no see,” you joked, and he raised his eyebrows.

“hey, earth to you two, get your asses over here!” jimmy called from further in the hotel room, and you heard trinity laugh.

“thank god, i have another girl to talk to, i’m not outnumbered anymore,” she laughed, and jey pulled you into his side, tucking you under his arm.

“are you the reason he wasn’t here last night?” jimmy asked in a silly voice, wiggling his eyebrows. you laughed, and jey sighed.

“man c’mon.” you all laughed now, and you smiled, happy to be with your closest friends.

“your secret is safe with us,” trinity winked at you, and you thanked her, grateful to have her and jimmy on your side. you knew things were gonna be complicated, and they were probably gonna get ugly when roman found out about you and jey, but you could live with that if it meant you got to be with the man you truly loved.

you knew it was wrong to have cheated on roman, and a part of you felt guilty, but truthfully your relationship with him had been over for months. looking at jey, you finally felt like you had found the right person, and he had been in front of you all along.

#jey uso #jey uso x reader #jey uso fic #jey uso imagine #roman reigns #roman reigns fic #jimmy uso #the usos #wwe #wwe fic #wrestling #wrestling imagines

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