#and then hunting down my family when they unpack a thing!

[dustylovelyrun]

Hey, hey, hey!

Y’know how the New Zealand government’s just, like. Not let me into the new house I’m supposed to be moving into for roughly half a year after I was initially supposed to move in?

It kept happening because the company renovating stuff is really bad at scheduling. But! They’ve finally finished! Everything else is booked - movers, animal transport, etc.

And I’m being let into my house tomorrow, baby!

[moonchildxoxx]

hiii!! Can i request a ao'nung fluff? Maybe a bit of angst, where the Sully kids have a human cousin and trying to introduce her to ao'nung? Tsireya and reader are instant besties, but ao'nung thinks all humans are demons and doesn't trust her but slowly does?? If it's too specific you can skip me!!

Tittle

Demon but Na’vi soul

A/N: okay so I think I got everything and I hope you enjoy it oh and a few side notes

- the reader is adopted by Tsu’tey

-spider is adopted by the sullys

-both reader and spider don’t need mask to breathe they can breathe the air like the Navi

Pairing: Ao’nung x Reader , sully children x human cousin! Reader and Tsu’tey x human daughter!Reader

Word count:2546

[ Request are open ]

Master List

Rules

You held onto your father as you flew on his ikran. You were flying to the reefs of the Metkayina. Word had reached the Omatikaya of the hunting of the Tulkun and the battle of the demon ship including the shooting of your cousin . The reef came into view and a horn was blown sending a warning out to the people below. Tsu’tey hold on you had tighten “ when we land stay close ma yawntutsyìp” you nodded, squeezing his hand that was holding you letting him know you heard him.

His ikran cireled the beach before landing . Tsu’tey climbed down from his mount helping you down. He walked forward to the forming crowd of Metkayaina, arms out showing he meant no harm. You made quick and large steps to keep up with him. The crowed broke apart letting thought two figures one male and the other female. You immediately knew that it was the Olo’eyktan and the Tsahik. Tsu’tey gave the “ I see you” gesture to the Olo’eyktan. “ I see you Tonowari '' he then turned to the female and did the same thing “ I see you , Tsahik Ronal '' .

well they greeted each other. Something had caught your attention, a young Metkayaina male who had pushed his way through the crowded beach and stood a few steps away from the Olo’eyktan and the Tsahik. You put two and two together and gathered this was their son. When he noticed you were looking at him, he hissed at you. You immediately stepped back frightened, knocking into your fathers leg . Tsu’tey absentmindedly grabbed onto your shoulder pulling you to stand in front of him faceing Tonowari and Ronal.

You gave the “ I see you” gesture to both of them. Tonowari greets you back but Ronal hissed at you. Your father's grip tightened. ” How dare you bring a sky demon to our shores? '' she hissed at your father. “ I did not, I brought my daughter along to come see our family” . The Tsahik went to argue but was cut off by Tonowari. “ It is decided Olo’eyktan Tsu’tey and his daughter are our guests , treat them as our brother and sister”. At the Olo’eyktan’s words the group of Metkayaina dispersed.

As they left you saw your cousins and Jake make their way towards you. You all greeted each other before Jake was telling your cousins to help with your things and to show you to the pod as he and Tsu’tey walked off. As your cousins led the way to their home you found yourself having trouble keeping up right as the walkways were not as solid . When you got to the pod you quickly placed your things down and greeted your aunt. along with Neteyam and spider who were both bangaged and seemed to have just woken up from resting. After talking with your family for a while you unpacked your things. The rest of the night went quickly. You had helped with the evening meal before everyone sat down to eat together . where everyone caught up and your cousins told you they wanted you to meet some of their friends. Before you knew it you were turning in for the night curled up in a sleep pile with your cousins just like old times.

The first morning rays of lights hit you in the face, waking you up. You slowly stretched out looking around you, seeing your family was still asleep. You slowly dislodged yourself from between your cousins and got ready for the day. You quietly made your way to cook fire and started to prepare morning meal. By the time you had placed the last leaf of food on the small table, everyone was in a different stage of waking. You made your way back to the sleeping area, waking your cousins fully so they would come eat. You all sat around eating, waiting for the adults to join you all to see what the day's plans were. Eventually everyone was at the table, you were told by Jake that your cousins would be showing you the ropes so you could keep up. After the morning meal everyone goes their own ways, your father leaving with your uncle and you leaving with your cousins.

As you followed them you noticed they were taking you to the beach where you saw 3 young Metkayaina one of them was the boy who had hissed at you. Lo’ak pulled you into his side introducing you to them. “ guys this is our cousin (Y/N) , this is Tsireya, Ao'nung and Rotxo ''. You smile and greet them by giving them the i see you gesture. the others greet you back but Ao’nung simply crosses his arms and stares at you. You quickly look down , Lo’ak started talking again” our father said to show her the ropes so we'll be here for most of the day ” he said looking at the 3 Metkayaina.

Ao'nung looked at him “ cuz I'm thinking you're forgetting you're supposed to be going with the hunting party today” he told Lo’ak. Lo’ak grabbed at his breads huffing looking torn between fooling his father orders and wanting to go hunting. You cut in before he could even answer “ it’s ok Lo’ak I can just hang back with Tuk and i’m sure i’ll pick up a few thing. He looks at you with some relief. He and the 2 Metkayaina males take off leaving you with the girls.

Tsireya clapped her hands together, getting all of you’s attention, “ good now we can get straight to lessons,” she said, looking at you. You simply nodded having no idea what she was talking about but you’d go along with anything not wanting any shame on your family. She started to walk off, you followed her towards a cluster of rocks where the 4 of you sat. She started teaching how to breathe so that you could swim and stay under the water for long spans of time. Eventually Tuk got bored and went off to collect shells Kiri followed after her. After a while Tsireya had you try what you had learned in the water. As the sky got dark Eventually everyone came to meet at the rocks and your cousins headed back to their pod, following afterthem.

As the eclipse began you all gathered together for evening meal. you sat quietly eating your meal as everyone around you talked. Tsu’tey noticed how quiet you were being and learned down close to you gently speaking to you. “ what's wrong ma’ite” he asked you placing his hand on your back. “ I’m fine sempu just tired” you mumbled to him. You rushed to finish your food you just watching as everyone kept eating you had started to drift off with sleep, Tus’tey seeing this gently pulled you to his side letting you rest against him. You moved as close as possible enjoying your fathers warm as you were still cold from the water. The next thing you remember was waking up from hearing something outside. You came to realize you must have fallen asleep during dinner since it was pitch black outside the pod and you were tucked between Neteyam and tuk. You slightly stretched, pulling your blanket up to your chin and going back to sleep with the others.

When morning light hit the pod you once again woke up, had morning meal and headed off with your cousins to your lessons once again.

For the next 2 weeks this was your routine waking, eating,lesson eating again and going to sleep. In that time you had become fast friends with Tsireya. You both bonded over healing as you were both studying under the Tsahik of your clans. The only one that seemed to have a problem with you still was Ao'nung anywhere you went and he was around you could feel his eyes burning a hole in you and each time you ignored it. You were currently sitting on the beach with Tsireya helping her make different salves for the Tsahik. And once again you could feel Ao'nung watching you.

Ao'nung watched you as you helped his sister. He was in the water with the sully boys just messing around on their ilu. Lo’ak road up beside him “ you know if you went up to her and talked to her she'd probably like you back “ Lo’ak teased him. He quickly turned to look at him hissing at him.” i’d never be interested in a vrrtep” Lo’aks joking matter stopped and immediately hissed back at Ao'nung” watch it fish lips for ill beat you again thats my tsmuke and nobody calls her that. Ao'nung rolled his eyes “ I Thought you said she was your cousin” he answer Lo’ak. “ same difference “ Lo’ak answered and swam off with his ilu. Ao'nung decd to go deep fishing by himself not wanting to deal with this any longer.

Looking back on that now was a dumb idea as he had gotten his legs stuck and had a large and deep cut on his leg. making it hard for him to even get off his ilu never mind even walk to the shore. You had been on the beach watching tuk play with other children when you notice Ao'nung and the dark red water around him the more he moved . you had immediately shot up going into the water to help him to shore. Sitting him on the sand . you quickly saw what was wrong. You called out to tuk to keep watch on him running to the family pod grabbing your healing bag since it was closer than the Tsahik healing pod. As you darted in and then right back out both scaring and leaving the adults confused. You came back to Ao'nung working quickly to wash and clean the open wound adding a salve to numb it before wrapping it in some leaf bandages. This whole time Aonang Watched you with wide eyes, shocked at how you just shot up, not taking a second guess to help him. When you had finished you looked up at him getting worried as he was just watching you with wide eyes not saying a single word.” Tuk!, go get your sempu quickly, we need to get him to the Tsahik and I can't carry him”. She rushed off to get jake who came quickly and took him to the Tsahik healing pod.

By the time Ao'nung had come to and realized that you had helped him he was non longer in the sand but sitting in his mothers healing pod well she fused over him. He told her that he was fine that you had already helped him. For the next 3 days he didn’t get even a clumps of you until the fourth day you had come to bring some supplies for his mother. Who he had been stuck with for the past 3 days. helping her in the healing pod as he could not put any weight on his injured leg. You greet both the Tsahik and Ao'nung with the Isee you gesture before placing the basket next to the Tsahik. She in turn greets you “ ah thank you sweet child, are you busy right now? '' Ronal aske you . you shook your head no '' perfect I need to deliver a few thing around the village, but will not have enough time to do so and return in time to change Ao'nung bandages can you stay and do that for me?” you nodded gently, “ of course Tsahik '' she gave you a small smile, taking her things and leaving the pod. Leaving you and Ao'nung alone in the pod. After a few awkward moments you decided to be useful and started separating the basket of plants you had brought in. After a while Ao'nung finally spoke “ why “ asked you. You turned to him unsure what to answer him. He spoke again, this time louser “ why ?... Why help me? ''.

You opened your mouth to speak but closed it till you could gather your word. “ why wouldn't I? Your friends with my family, i’m friends with your sister “ you trill off. “ Actually forget that even if we did not have that connection why wouldn’t I help another Na’vi, if i had gone to get the Tsahik or made you get there on your own you could have easily made your wound worse and possibly bleed out” you finished you small rant before turning to keep sorting. It was quiet for a while before he asked you another question” were you really born here?”. You sighed softly before stopping what you were doing and went to sit beside him. “ Yes, I was born here just like the other human boy. I've also been raised in the Omatikaya clan my whole life by Tsu’tey since I was a few weeks old” you tell him before he can even ask you more. Ao'nung rubbed the back of his neck nervously “ thank you for helping me …” he trailed off again. You nodded gently before he asked you something that shocked you a bit “ could we start over again?” he asked you, looking into your eyes. You just looked at him wide eyed for a moment before swallowing harshly and nodding “ y-yes we can”. He smiled back at you “ I see you (Y/N)” he made the gesture as well and you returned it '' I see you Ao'nung”.

Over the next few weeks you got to know each other then started the gifts between you. Ao'nung was the one that had started by giving you some shells to bread into your hair.which Tsireya helped you put them in before you left to get ready for the feast. Tonight was the feast celebrating the battle won against the demon ship now that all the warriors were healed and the time for mourning was over.

As you walked into the family pod nobody had noticed your new hair style until Tuk loudly spoke about it. “ (Y/N)! You look so pretty with the shells Ao'nung got you!” you turned bright red and quickly looked down. your whole family had different reactions the boys weren’t to happy knowing what it meant because they were there when Ao'nung collected the shells, well kiri was trying to hold her laughs in because of her brothers reaction well your Neytiri simply smiled at you well Jake and Tsu'tey looked like deer cot in the headlights. “ i’m … just gonna get my clothes and help Tsireya set up the feast ….. “ you quickly got your clothes and ran back out yelling out a quick “ bye “ as you left.

Later that night at the feast. Both of your families were sat around a fire eating together when you brought over a bowl of Ao'nung favorite fruit for him handing it to him as you sat next to him. He blushes at this, making both Neytiri and Ronal coo at what they saw. This continues on for a while giving each other small gifts or simple gestures of bring each other food, and maybe a bit of showing off on Ao'nung part when he catches a partly large animal showing it to you proudly. Ao'nung had finally built up the courage to present you with a courting gift ( the necklace in the title)

© Moonchildxoxx 2023 | all rights reserved. do not republish, repost, steal, modify, translate or claim my work as your own.

[mrcowboydeanwinchester]

🧡 The Past and Pending 🐎

jo & young claire fic - 4.7k - rating: G - canon compliant - read on ao3

Jo watches the family hold hands over her shitty bar food and close their eyes in grace, in prayer. Even when they’re all hungry they take the moment to thank their god for their meal. Claire looks like a little blonde angel as she mouths along to her father’s amen. Jo supposes she once looked like that, too.

16th May, 2004. Nine years to the day since Jo's father's death, she is nineteen and working her usual shift in the Roadhouse bar. The Novak family stop by during a summer storm as they travel through the state, and Jo has the chance to bond with a seven year old Claire over horses, their love for their fathers, and leather jackets.

written for my 2024 jo's joyous birthday celebrations!! prompts were orange, horse girl, and leather jacket, which were fun to weave in. enjoy <3

read below the cut!

16th May 2004.

It’s been a slow day at the Roadhouse, the tepid May heat turning beers warm but the bouts of summer rain keeping Jo from her usual restless walks outside. The bar is gloomy and a little stifling and it’s nine years to the day since the death of her father. 

By the evening Jo is working the bar, in view of the entrance. Every time the door scrapes open and the creaky floorboard goes, she is hit with one of two alternating images. The first is her father, home from his hunt, leather jacket fitted on his solid body with a smile on his face. His arms are spread wide waiting for her hug. Each time it is not him, she is forced to remember how his leather jacket is hanging emptily from a hook behind the bar and that every time she pictures his face she gets it a little more wrong.

The second image is of Uncle Bobby, hunched and sad, his grief silhouetted in the doorway light as he brings the sorry news. Her dad’s leather jacket in his hands, all that was left of him. What news does he bring this time? How many dead? The first image fills her with sorrow, the second with fear, both memories rising to the surface on the anniversary like crumbs in beer.

Jo mindlessly wipes down the bar, any tears that land on the countertop instantly disappearing beneath the cloth. It’s just one of those days. Ellen is in the back, unpacking the delivery that came in the morning, also quieter than usual. At least they’re not screaming at each other. That’s something. 

The front door scrapes the floor as it swings open and Jo is called back to the present. She brushes her eyes once with the back of her hand, the one holding the rag, as if she’s only wiping sweat from her forehead. When she turns to face the new customers Jo knows no one will be able to tell she was crying. She’s good at things like that. 

“Heya, what can I get for you?” she calls over the bar, and then instantly sighs as she sees the newcomers. Neither of the images in her head have materialized, but a third, more frustrating one has: civilians. 

A man and a woman, married, but still fairly young, hover uncertainly in the doorway. The wife’s hair is that uninteresting midway between blonde and brunette, cut sensibly to her shoulders but clearly styled. The husband’s hair is much darker and would probably curl if not for his serious and slick side parting. The first thing Jo notices about them is their hair because this is the most immediately interesting thing about them; other than that, they look incredibly boring. Normal. 

Then, from behind the man’s legs, peers a young girl. A child with a sweet tangerine gingham dress and curious eyes, maybe seven or so. Jo watches the girl take in the Roadhouse, with its burly, surly hunters hunched uninvitingly over tables marked with the questionable stains from fights and alcohol which make every surface slightly sticky. 

The husband is shaking his head, gesturing round at the bar with a displeased hand. “We should go,” Jo catches him saying, “this isn’t our kind of establishment.”

Jo is too used to this happening to be offended. Besides, she always thinks why cater to civilians anyway, when they’re a hunter bar first and foremost?

But the wife stands her ground. “She needs to eat, Jimmy. We all need a break, we’ve been driving for so long. And the sooner we get home, the sooner we outrun that storm.” 

Jimmy sighs, then nods. The trio shuffle awkwardly towards the bar, the child nervous at her father’s heels. She’s very blonde, as blonde as Jo. 

“I know we look like it, but we don’t bite,” Jo says, mainly to the girl. She earns the trace of a smile for her troubles.

Jimmy has the decency to look a little regretful. “I’m sorry, it’s been a… long drive. We haven’t had to travel quite this far before.”

“Well, that’s what the Roadhouse is here for. What can I get you?”

The options are limited, so it doesn’t take long for the family to decide on burgers, fries, and juices all round. Jo manages to keep her face straight at the drinks order. Most of the Roadhouse clientele would drink the rainwater outside rather than order fruit juice. If it wasn’t obvious enough already, the glimmer of evening light making its way through the window catches on the cross pendant visible through the open top button of Jimmy’s collar, and confirms the family’s faith. 

They go and find a table, choosing one by the window, to sit and drink their juices at. Jo sets about sorting the rest of their order, pottering about between the kitchen and the bar to serve it all up. 

She’s halfway through plating the fries when movement catches the corner of her eye and she spins to see the young girl clambering up one of the high stools at the bar, the seat teetering a little under her weight.

“Hey,” Jo says, maybe a little meanly. Mostly caught by surprise. “What are you doing?”

The girl’s face falls into a round, guilty oh as she finally settles, kneeling, on the seat. “I just wanted to see what was behind.”

Jo nods, calming now that her initial panic at the girl’s movement has subsided. “That’s fine, just make sure you’re careful up there, alright? It’s a tall seat and you’re a—a small little body.”

“One day I’m going to be bigger and every seat in my house is going to be a tall seat,” the girl decides with a jut of her chin. 

The comment hits Jo at such an angle it cracks her, and she barks out a laugh. “Sounds like a plan, kiddo. What’s your name?”

“Claire,” she answers. Then, with the precision of a child who has had politeness strongly instilled in her, asks, “and what’s yours?”

“Jo.”

“I thought that was a boy’s name.”

“It is,” Jo says. She gets a familiar burst of pride with it, but it feels awkwardly shallow with Claire looking up at her, so she follows with, “but it’s a girl’s name too. My full name is Joanna-Beth.”

Claire breathes a little woah . “That’s such a pretty name.”

“Huh. Um, thanks,” Jo manages. She’s never liked it, the way her mom only uses it in anger, the way her dad never used it. Joanna-Beth is someone else. Joanna-Beth is a bad daughter. Claire, though, doesn’t know any of that. 

As Jo’s cheeks tinge pink, Claire’s mom comes hastening over, ready to lift Claire down from the bar stool and back to the table. 

“Is she distracting you? I’m so sorry. Claire, love, come on��”

“No, it’s fine, really,” Jo placates earnestly. “I really don’t mind it. I was enjoying our chat.”

Claire beams at her. “So was I, mommy.”

Claire’s mom looks between the two of them—Jo wonders what goes on in her head as she does, two such naive-looking girls set against the backdrop of the Roadhouse—and then nods. “Well, you just give me or Jimmy a shout if you need a hand.”

“Thanks. I’m not great with kids, so I might need to,” Jo answers with a smile. It’s the truth; she’s never had much practice.

The woman raises a doubtful eyebrow. “Well, you seem to be doing a good job so far.”

Jo nods, unsure what to do with the praise. 

“I’m Amelia, if you need me,” supplies Amelia instead.

“I’m Jo.”

“It’s short for Joanna-Beth,” Claire pipes up, the awe still palpable in her voice. 

Amelia laughs, nodding, and runs a hand through Claire’s sleek pigtails. “Pretty name,” she tells Jo, before heading back to her husband at the table. 

It’s the complement of the hour, it seems. Jo nods again, head bobbing unassuredly like one of the lame figures in Ash’s room, as she gets back to plating up the meals under Claire’s careful surveillance. 

“You’ve got horses on your butt,” Claire says after ten full seconds of silence. 

“What? Oh,” Jo laughs, turning in vain to glance at the horses embroidered over the back pockets of her jeans. She found them in the thrift store in town. They weren’t cheap, the horses stitched in mid-gallop over the pockets boosting the price considerably. But it’d felt wrong to leave the horses trapped in the sterile light of the thrift store. They deserve some warm lighting, Jo’d thought, where they can complete their run for freedom when no one is looking. The jeans are just a tad too small, so the plushy middle of her stomach bulges over them slightly, but she tries not to mind it. Anything for the horses.

“Do you like them?” she asks, wiggling her butt a little, much to Claire’s delight. 

Jo normally keeps her movements minimal, behind the bar, knowing how hunters’ eyes glue grossly to all the places she’d least like them look. She often feels like somewhat of a dancing monkey because of it, but here it’s an innocent movement with no repercussions other than Claire’s laughter.

“They’re so fun. I wish my dress had horses on like yours,” Claire says with a plaintive sigh which sounds amusingly beyond her years. 

“You like horses?” 

Claire nods eagerly. “For my next birthday mommy says I can have a riding lesson.”

“Woah! That’s so cool!” Jo says, and she’s genuinely quite excited at the idea. “I’m jealous, I wish I could ride. Then I could saddle up and go wherever I wanted all by myself.” California, she’d decided sometime long ago. Or maybe Arizona. Just somewhere west of this wasteland.

“I’ll come back and teach you once I know,” Claire answers, so earnestly Jo knows she fully believes it. 

Somehow, she can see it: Claire with her little arms crossed staring up at Jo perched precariously on a horse, calling instructions up to her. “I’d like that,” she says with a grin. “Where will you ride to, once you can ride absolutely anywhere?”

Claire considers the question deeply, the cogs whirring away visibly behind her eyes. “Well, I’d have to teach daddy and mommy how to ride too. I don’t want to go anywhere without them. But then I don’t mind.”

Jo hums. It’s a cute image, the three of them as one family riding off into the sunset. Not lost, because they’re together. It feels distant, familiar in the way the memories of a dream are; foreign. Whenever she has those fantasies of riding away now, she’s alone. She supposes that wasn’t always the case.  

“That sounds real lovely,” she finally gets out, staring down at the burger she has started stacking. She hadn’t really realized she was doing it, just running on automatic. Thinking of her father and running on automatic, the story of her life since she lost what Claire still has. 

But Claire’s concentration has dwindled and she wriggles in her seat. “Are you going to be done soon? I’m starving .” 

“Hey, you’re the one distracting me!” Jo rebuts, shaking her head clear with an exaggerated sigh for Claire’s benefit. “But tell you what, I have an idea to help you grow bigger so you can always sit on the tall seats.”

“What?” Claire asks, perking back up with excitement. 

Jo hunkers down to Claire’s level on the bar, resting her chin on her arms so they’re completely eye to eye. “If you help me carry the food to your table it’ll be like lifting weights and then you’ll get big and strong,” she says, voice low like she’s letting Claire in on a secret.

“You mean it’s ready?”

Jo pulls away with a roll of her eyes and fishes the basket of burger and fries from the countertop to present them on the bar. Impatiently, Claire reaches out to grab one, but Jo bats gently her hands away. 

“Hey, kiddo, gotta get down from the seat first.”

“I can do it myself!” Claire protests. 

But still, she doesn’t struggle as Jo comes around from behind the bar and helps lift her to the floor, Claire steadying herself against Jo’s arms. Once her feet have touched the floor, she prods at Jo’s toned tricep again with a podgy finger. 

“Your arm isn’t soft,” she points out, rather frankly. 

Jo gives her arm a squeeze in the same place Claire just did, to feel for herself. She always thinks she is too soft, too willowy; china doll in a bull farm. So although she trains as much as she can, shooting with her bow and arrow in the yard and sparring with the other hunters when they pass through, it never feels like enough. At least Claire thinks differently. 

“It’s because it’s all muscles,” she explains. She give the smooth, plushy skin of Claire’s arm a gentle poke in return. “See, you just haven’t got any yet.”

Claire frowns as she squints down at the difference between them. “I didn’t think girls could have muscles.”

Sometimes Jo looks at herself in the mirror and wishes she’d never trained at all. That she looked like all the other girls her age. Even like Claire. Here she is, jealous of a seven year old, yet knowing that this world of comparison is what Claire will inevitably grow into. Distantly and regrettably, she reminds herself of her mother.

“All girls can have muscle if they want to, and train enough,” she says, trying to keep her words on an even keel. It feels important. But she attempts to imagine little Claire in her gingham dress with muscly arms and fails. 

Claire giggles, gorgeously oblivious as she jabs at Jo’s arm again. “None of the girls at school or Sunday school are like you, Jo.”

Her throat gets a little dry. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Just a thing,” Claire notes absently, before taking the basket of greasy food from Jo’s distracted hand and sauntering over to her family with it clutched tightly in her fists. She hands it straight to her dad, who runs an affectionate hand over his daughter’s head.

“Thank you, sweetheart, this looks very lovely,” he says patiently, as she scrambles over him and onto her own seat. “Have you been kind to the nice lady?”

Jo doesn’t like that word but doesn’t have time to deal with that, recovering as she is from Claire’s rapid-fire insights. She follows the kid to the table and slides Amelia and Claire their portions, receiving grateful smiles from both Amelia and Jimmy. 

“Thank you,” the family chorus, their voices naturally falling in a pleasant harmony. 

Jo’s voice is lonely in comparison as she asks if she can get them more drinks. They turn down the offer and thank her again, Claire’s eyes glued to her food now that it’s properly in front of her. Slowly, Jo returns to her spot behind the bar, unabashedly gazing at the family from across the room.

She watches them hold hands over her shitty bar food and close their eyes in grace, in prayer. Even when they’re all hungry, when Claire has confessed dramatically to starvation, they take the moment to thank their god for their meal. Jo doesn’t think any food prepared by her hands is really worth it, but the prayer comes out in a low and sincere murmur from Jimmy’s mouth. Claire looks like a little blonde angel as she mouths along to her father’s amen . Jo supposes she once looked like that, too. 

**

The next half hour passes with little incident, aside from a repeat round of whiskey for Shawn, Jake and Caleb in the far corner. Jo mainly watches Claire and her family eat their blessed dinner and chat, the flow easy between them. They don’t talk like most people in the Roadhouse do. They sound posher, somehow, their sentences free from apostrophes and curses. Jimmy eats his burger with a knife and fork. 

Another shower of summer rain falls, the noise heavy on the Roadhouse roof. Jo expects it to pass, but instead the weather settles like that, a consistent rumble over the bar. The storm she heard Amelia mention earlier must have caught up with them, despite their desire to outrun it. 

Jimmy and Amela must notice this too. They peer out of the window by their table into the ever-murkier evening, resignation growing on their faces.

“We need to make a move,” Jimmy says. “Get ahead of this before we get stuck.”

As if to emphasize the point, a crack of thunder echoes out around the Roadhouse. The sound travels potently over the flat Nebraska plains and the din of the first clap gives even the hunters in the corner a start. Claire lets out a small yelp and buries herself into her father’s side. 

“It’s just thunder, sweetie,” Jimmy pacifies.

Claire mumbles something into his middle in return, but Jo can’t make it out. 

“You guys finishing up?” she asks, walking over and clearing the baskets. “I’d head out before it gets worse.”

“Yes, we’d like to,” Amelia agrees, “but someone here is a little bit scared of the thunder.”

“I’m not scared,” Claire grouches, lifting a protesting head from her dad’s chest. Jo knows a liar when she sees one, knows it as she knows herself. “I just don’t want to get wet.”

Jo choses bravado and Claire choses nonchalance, but it looks like they both bury their fear. She remembers the performances she used to put on for her father to show she was capable enough to keep up with him, how loved it made her feel when he believed in her. An idea, easily shattered, starts growing in her mind, and she surges forward with it before it can break. 

“So we gotta get you out to the car without getting wet, hmm?” Jo poses quizzically. Claire looks at her suspiciously, but nods along. “I have an idea,” Jo draws out, hands on hips. “We’ll have to go behind the bar to make it work…”

Claire leaps up from her seat, curiosity winning out over anything else. Jo hasn’t even got to ask Amelia and Jimmy’s permission, their looks of gratitude are already enough. They start gathering their jackets as Jo leads Claire around, to the tantalizing world behind the bar.

“Cool,” Claire whispers. It’s the closest thing to slang she’s said all day.

Jo smiles despite herself, then readies to go through with her idea. She’s sharing the one thing of her father’s which is truly hers. If it were anyone but Claire, she wouldn’t be doing it, but something about Claire makes it feel different—makes sharing feel more like a gift which grows rather than diminishes. 

“This,” Jo says, gently lifting the supple material from where it hangs dutifully on its hook, “is my daddy’s leather jacket.”

She takes a deep breath and kneels beside Claire, offering the leather up to her for her little hands to touch. Despite the warmth of the day, the leather is still cool, and Claire’s smile grows as she slides her chestnut-sized palms along the smooth material. 

The leather is brown and worn, but still in pretty pristine condition for a jacket now going on thirty years old. Jo doubts Claire even notices the small set of hand stitches around the collar from when she stupidly tore it and needed to fix it up. It had taken her a whole afternoon tucked away in her bedroom to stitch it back together, but she’d played her dad’s vinyls the whole while and the time had spun away quickly. Even her mom was impressed by Jo’s handiwork, in the end. This jacket is the one thing of her dad that Ellen lets Jo keep, and Jo keeps it well. 

Claire’s blue eyes are wide and wondrous in her head. “It’s very nice,” she says shyly.

Jo smiles. “I know. And it’s really special to me, because my daddy isn’t around any more, so we’re going to take good care of it together.”

“Why isn’t your daddy around?” Claire asks, her forehead wrinkling with the question. She’s a kid clearly trained in courtesy, but the constant frankness to her questions give her a harder edge. If the questions didn’t sting so much, Jo would love it about her. Claire continues, “my daddy loves me so much I think he’ll be around forever.”

“Well,” Jo says carefully, slowly, stringing her words along the tightrope of her taut throat. “Sometimes it’s not a choice. My daddy died nine years ago.” She swallows the ‘today’ she could add onto the end of that sentence, feeling that detail might be a little too much for both of them in this conversation. “Here’s something I find very important to remember: just because someone leaves, doesn’t mean they stop loving you. And it doesn’t mean you stop loving them.”

Claire looks as if she might start chuckling, but then catches onto the sincerity in Jo’s tone. Her mouth falls open slightly and her plump fingers squeeze tighter at the leather jacket. “I don’t want my daddy to leave me.”

“I bet he won’t,” Jo says, placing her hands over Claire’s. They’re so small beneath her own. Warm too, like holding a little heart between her hands. 

Jo looks up at Claire, at her sandy blonde hair tied neatly into pigtails and the pretty orange gingham of her summer dress. Seven years old and so sure her daddy will never leave her. It is only the crystal blue of Claire’s irises that differ from the umber of her own, but even then, Jo supposes that they both have their father’s eyes. 

“I think we’ve got the best daddys in the world,” Jo whispers. “They love us all the time. When they’re out at the shops, when they’re away with work, when they’re up in heaven. They love us right now.” 

She swallows, hard, blinking away the tears that are refracting rainbows in her eyes. There’s a burning in her throat but she’s glad she managed to say those words, to finally get them out into the precious ears of a young girl. She smiles. Her vision is still slightly watery but clearing when she realizes Claire is giggling, a sweet blush on her cheeks. Her laughter is light and bubbly, like a stream tumbling over rocks in the sun. Like if Jo bathed in it, she would feel clean.

“Come on, we can use my daddy’s leather jacket as an umbrella to run out to the car,” she says, the idea finally coming to fruition as she stands back up again and dusts the Roadhouse floor muck from her knees. “I’ll hold it over your head so you don’t get wet.”

Claire rolls her eyes, something Jo wasn’t sure seven year olds knew enough to do, but apparently so. “But then you’re going to get wet!”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m big and strong! I can take some rain.” Jo makes a performance of flexing her arms, the odd proportions of her wide-muscled shoulders and lean frame suddenly a cause for celebration rather than insecurity when looked at through Claire’s eyes. 

“Hmm.” Claire ponders hard at Jo’s words, those cogs visibly turning again in her brain. “Okay. But you’ll have to be fast to keep up with me!” 

The kid makes a dash for the door and is surprisingly speedy on her little legs, her gingham dress swishing behind her. Jo starts after her, pitching both arms upwards so the jacket hangs from them like a tent over Claire’s head. They dash out the front door and into the delicious rain, giggling all the way until it turns into full belly laughter. The lights of the car flash when Jimmy unlocks it, and Claire kicks up water as she runs to fling open the backseat door. Jo’s jeans are splattered with it, but the rain is coming down in sheets so her whole body is soon soaked through anyway. 

Another roar of thunder booms across the open space but Claire doesn’t even notice, too busy sheltering under Jo’s jacket as she scrambles up into the car. Jo slides the leather jacket on to free up her hands and help Claire wriggle into the backseat. The girl is a step ahead of her, and clicks her seatbelt into place with a smug little grin at Jo.

“See, I am faster than you!” 

Jo laughs, feeling rainwater pool in the corners of her mouth as she does so. “Okay, you win. But I did help keep you safe from all the horrible rain and thunder.”

“Yes, you did,” Claire concedes graciously. She clearly has a self-righteous streak. Smiling, she opens her arms wide for Jo to hug her, but Jo backs away.

“I’m very wet still, I don’t want to make you damp after all this.”

“Oh, okay,” Claire says, looking crestfallen. “But I want to hug you anyway.”

Jo pauses. “You sure?”

“Of course!” Claire says, the words come on, silly, evident in her tone. 

Jo grins, and wraps her drenched, leathery arms around Claire. Squeezes her tight. With her face buried in Claire’s hair, she inhales the strong and familiar scent of strawberry shampoo, the kind she used to use when she was small. She’s got a young girl’s warm body in her arms, and the scent of her dad’s leather and her childhood shampoo mix in the May evening air. 

“I want to be just like you when I grow up,” Claire’s voice whispers in her ear. 

Jo wants to sob, but doesn’t. She instead gives Claire one last, big, humongous squeeze and untangles herself, her arms leaving damp patches across Claire’s dress. Claire doesn’t seem to mind, she’s only seven. 

“I was just like you when I was small,” Jo manages to reply. She doesn’t know if that’s a good or bad thing anymore, or if it’s just—as Claire said—a thing. Some small part of her feels like she’s damning Claire as she says this, to a life like her’s. But then again—maybe it’s just a thing, and her life is neutral. There does not have to be a curse to pass on. She smiles. “It’s been really nice to meet you, Claire.”

“And it was nice to meet you too, Jo!”

They do a final high-five (Claire’s hands only spanning Jo’s palm) before Jo steps back into the rain proper, closing the car door in front of her with a wet thunk. 

The driver’s door opens and shuts beside her, Jimmy having climbed behind the wheel. Amelia’s footsteps splash around to the far side of the concrete and then the whole family is sheltered in the car, safely stowed together behind the windows.

In the low lighting of the Roadhouse sign, for a moment Jo looks into Claire’s window and only sees herself, rain pouring down her face and shoulders wide enough to fill her father’s jacket. Then the driver’s window rolls down and Jo steps to meet it. 

“Thank you,” Jimmy says. He has dark hair and a face she will meet again. “You were very good with her. Your parents should be proud.”

Jo goes to shake her head but then allows herself the nod, to tentatively agree. Her wet hair is plastered to her scalp, but the rain isn’t cold; it’s just right. 

“Have a safe journey,” she calls. Then repeats herself as the man revs the engine so Claire, winding the window down too, can still hear her. “Have a safe journey!” 

To where, Jo realizes she isn’t quite sure. 

Both her and Claire wave like wild things as the car turns back out onto the road, Jo chasing the car for a few meters, to Claire’s growing grin. As the car pulls away Claire’s blonde pigtails are the last thing Jo can make out of her.

She stands there, in the parking lot outside the Roadhouse where the dust is being beaten into the road by the summer rain. The taillights of the car rumble out of view and Jo still stands, waving, unsure if she’s just met the past or future, until her mother comes and beckons her inside. 

[admrlthundrbolt]

Black Magic Woman (Werewolf Santana x Chubby Reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Born into the curse of a Werewolf. Santana had always preferred his more beastial form. So imagine his surprise when a Park Ranger makes his human side so desperate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey guys, I'm back at it again. This is another installment of my Piller Men stories. This one really ran away with me. I didn't expect it to be as long or for a whole background lore to spawn. Yet here we are, with a Park Ranger and a Werewolf falling in love. Any who I hope you enjoy.

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

His entire life had been simple; sleep, hunt, survive. He was a beast through and through. No matter what the legends said. At least that was before you came along.

The first night he caught your scent on the wind, it became ingrained in his memory. It was sweet, yet with a heady undertone. Itching at a part of his mind that he had never accessed before. Beast and man began their first battle for control within him. Not knowing what to do with himself, he sprinted home.

The cave was dry and in a more isolated section of the park. He had made sure to mark the perimeter, ensuring that the local predators knew what belonged to him.

For the first time in a long while, he slipped out of his canine form. Shifting into that of a man. He stumbled on his two legs, finding the motion unfamiliar. Though even this change couldn't remove the new scent from his nose.

So he spent his night, cold and alone curled up on the hard floor. Trying to wipe his head of the aroma that plagued him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had settled into the housing quickly. Not having a large space to live in, helped with only needing to unpack a few things. But it didn't matter to you, the place you were living in wasn't the reason you took the position. No, it was the chance to study the wolf population. You had went to college for a degree in Wildlife Biology and Research. It was tedious and took a lot of hard work, but it was your dream. Every since you were a child, wildlife had always fascinated you.

Though there was something special about the wolf population of this particular park, that drew you to it. They would mostly stay to themselves rather than in the typical packs. When they did pair off, they rarely grouped beyond the immediate family. Almost as if they wouldn't stray beyond their own familial grouping. It was unlike any other behavioral patterns that had been witnessed.

Though the most perplexing thing had to be how little documentation had been conducted. You could only find bits and pieces of information. Even coming across forms with most of the information blacked out. It seemed as if there was a sizeable gap in the knowledge released from this park.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grabbing a few supplies from the office, you prepared for your first day in the field. Only to bump your head on a cabinet as one of your coworkers enter the room.

Joseph barged in with a loud morning and went straight for the coffee maker. Rubbing the tender spot, you greeted him. He was a nice enough guy, but to loud for his own good. Though his soft spoken girlfriend, Suzie Q, was a great counterpart to his personality.

His mug full, he turned your way. “So, excited about your first day?”

A small smile graced your face as you nodded. “Yeah and about the same amount of nerves. But who doesn't feel that way when they start a new job.”

He nodded with a thoughtful look on his face. It was odd to see a serious expression on the goofball's face. “I get that.” Then leaning towards a locker, he pulled out a large walkie-talkie. “Make sure to keep this on you. The wolf population are unpredictable and it's never a good idea to underestimate them.”

The statement sent a foreboding chill down your spine. Why hadn't you thought to ask the other staff about their experience with the wildlife. Well that was just a task to file away for later. “Thanks, I'll see you later.” Heading out the door you passed Suzie Q. With a quick good morning, you left for your vehicle.

She waved you off, then rushed over to Joseph. He handed her the second cup of coffee he made and shook his head. “I can't believe they gave that woman a grant to work with those monsters.”

She sipped the warm drink and gave him a hollow smile. “Maybe they hand picked her for a reason.”

Staring at your vehicle as it became a dot on the horizon, he couldn't help but hang his head. “Unlikely.” Taking a deep swig of coffee, he tried to distract himself with the burn of the beverage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a restless night, he shifted back into his beastial form. Taking off in a sprint, he hoped that a run would help clear his head. Not sure how long he would push himself. Only focusing on the burn of his muscles and the speed of his breath. Continuing his mindless run, he came across a stream and collapsed on its bank. Panting and relaxing until he felt the need for water. Though this luxury never came.

A vehicle pulled up nearby. He could hear the tires crunching over rock and fallen branch alike. Still huffing, he waited to see if it would pass. It stopped instead and he scrambled behind a close by rock formation. Wind picking up as the door swung shut. He was once again engulfed in a indescribably wonderful scent. This caused him to dart his eyes around. When his gaze fell on you, he was astonished at what he found.

You were a goddess sheathed in khaki clothing. As the uniform shifted around your full figure, he couldn't stop the imagery that followed. You rounder with his pups and welcoming him home. It was an image that made his heart race, more than even the run caused. Every part of you sang out to him like a siren's song.

But he knew now wasn't the time to approach you. No, he had to prepare the den. Then he would prove to you that he was a worthy mate.

For now he watched you carefully as you set up a box on a tree.

You were meticulous and precise as you hung it. Then opened it and fiddled with what looked like a camera of sorts. Finishing up, you clapped your hands together. A gesture he found most endearing. Heading back to the vehicle, you pulled out a map. Folding it back up, you drove off in a new direction.

Watching you leave, he glanced at the box. Then marked the tree under it and took off after you without a second thought. If he was to court you, he would need to know where to find you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you placed the last trail cam up you sighed in relief. It had taken most of the day, but the cameras would be a boon to your research. It's not like you could be everywhere at once after all. Not to mention you had the odd sensation of being watched today. Although that could also be chalked up to being the trail cams. So you brushed it off and headed back to the Ranger housing, ready to rest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had trailed you to your den. It was a small home, but it wouldn't matter soon. You would spend little time there once you became his bonded mate.

Nosing around the area, he was relieved to find that there wasn't an established scent. So he marked the site, paying special attention with your house.

Through with that, he decided that he would find a quick bite and settle down close by. It wouldn't do if his mate came to harm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day you woke up and set off to your usual morning routine. Only to pause on your way out the door. It reeked, the scent was an all to familiar one, wolf pee. Making your way to the common area. You couldn't help but wonder why the stench had cropped up overnight.

Still the oddity wouldn't stop you from checking the cameras you put up the day before. Settling down with a cup of coffee, you pulled up the app to search through the footage. All of it was pretty mundane, until you reached the video first video recorded after setting them up. It seemed the same wolf was marking the area under each cam, then sprinting off. It wasn't an unusual thing for wolves to mark unfamiliar things. But it seemed that he had followed you and repeated the action under every single camera. Just as the thought of him being the culprit behind the smell around the housing popped in your head, Joseph entered the room.

He gave a cheerful greeting and headed for the coffee maker. Turning to you he noticed a video feed on your screen. One with a familiar wolf. “Watcha got there.” Trying to keep his tone casual, he was desperate to know why Santana was there. You had only been here a day and already had one of their interest.

“Oh, footage from the trail cams I set up yesterday. You know, it's pretty bizarre. This one wolf seems to find everyone and mark underneath it. Almost like he was taking in an unfamiliar scent and marking it. At least that's my theory.” Taking a sip from your coffee you looked at him a bit wide eyed. “If that’s the case then he must also be the reason for the smell outside the housing."

He gave you a confused look. “Smell?”

Nodding you said. “Yeah, it was so pungent I had to rush over here to get a fresh breath of air.”

Gazing out the window, he narrowed his eyes. “Is that so, I'll check it out before I make my rounds.”

You waved him off. “Don't bother, it's probably my new scent disrupting the ecosystem. Maybe my pheromones are throwing off some of the local wolves.”

“Well I'd rather be safe than sorry.” He patted your back and smiled. “Can't let anything happen to our new teammate.”

“Oh. Thank you." You ran your fingers through your hair. “It's nice to have a team that has my back.”

“Sure thing. Let Suzie Q know that I had to make a quick errand. I should be back before lunch.” Then he headed out the door to pay a certain elder wolf a visit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had stayed at the housing area that day. So when night came, he went to his den. It needed preparing for your arrival.

When he approached the entrance, he paused. A familiar, but not entirely unwelcome scent was there. His care giver Kars was an infrequent guest. But he had a strong kinship with the other wolf. He had saved him as a mere pup and taught him all he knows. Still why would he be waiting at his den. Stepping forward he hoped to find the answer to this question.

Kars gave him no time for speaking first. “Ah, Santana, how have you been?” As he gazed at the younger wolf, his eyes bored into him. “Because I received a little visit today. From Joseph of all people. Asking me about you and your recent actions. I hope I don't have to remind you of how tedious it is to deal with humans and maintain our alliance with them. Now with that being said. I would like to know why you are stalking the new ranger.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. He had a respect for the elder, but you are his mate. Though as he thought for a moment, they wouldn't be having this conversation if it wasn't to keep you safe. Puffing his chest up a bit, he said. “She is my mate.”

He hung his head at the confession. “That makes things awfully more complicated. For the sake of the treaty stay away from her until I return.” This caused the younger lycan to bristle. “I understand this may be hard, though it is your choice to make. Leave her side for a short while or be force to vacate the park. Never to be with her again.”

Lowering his hackles he gave a solemn nod and retreated futher into his den. He could at least take this time to tidy up. It would be a suitable distraction for the time being.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joseph paced in front of his truck and shook his head. This couldn't be happening. He wasn't sure what was worse. Santana hunting you or wanting to mate with you. At least this way your death wasn't guaranteed. Still what was he supposed to tell his superiors. “This isn't good. Do you know how many violations this could cause."

Kars rolled his eyes at the other man. “You act as if you humans are the only one with rules.” He scoffs and continues. “You should know that the title Elder was not an easy one to come by.”

He stepped forward, facing the purple haired man. “I get that and I'm thankful that you're willing to talk with me about this. But that doesn't make the situation any less complicated.”

“That you are right about. Once they meet, there will be no way to keep them from each other. True mates are bonded for life, ceremony or not.” He crossed his arms at the statement. To think that a pup he raised would be destined to a human. It was uncommon, but not as abnormal as having no mate. He honestly hoped this could help tame Santana. His unruliness had gotten him into trouble more times than he liked to recall. Maybe the soft touch of a human would calm him.

Running a hand over his face, he sighed. “OK, new plan. We keep them apart until I get word from my superiors. It should be simple enough. We'll just keep them both occupied and wait for an answer. I'll make sure to keep you in the loop.”

Nodding he watched the man climb into his vehicle. “Yes, you do that.” Knowing that this would be a most difficult task. But he knew it would be for the sake of one of his pups. So it was a challenge he was willing to take.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The storm shook your vehicle as you sped to the last piece of equipment. It was annoying to pick them up after of a few short weeks of them being out. But you knew you would get chewed out if the equipment got torn away in the storm. It would be just one more thing for your superiors to pressure you about. It seemed like they had breathing down your neck lately.

You pulled up near the camera, only able to go so far due to it precarious location. At the moment of setting it up over the gorge, you thought it was a stroke of genius. The footage of the wildlife that could live in the river at the base of the valley was to good to pass up. Now as you attempt to loosen it from the tree, leaning over the dizzying drop. You couldn't help but curse your earlier ambitious. Rain pelting against you and wind seeming to pick up in speed by the second. You questioned if this last camera was worth the stress. This thought was followed by a rumble and your perspective shifting downward.

He knew he was supposed to be avoiding you. But this storm had made his hair raise and nerves jumpy. He only needed to see you, hopefully through the window of your home. Curled up, warm and cozy, reading something in bed. It was his favorite position to see you in, content and comfortable.

On his way over, he stopped at a familiar sound. Your voice was at the gorge and you were calling out for help. It only took him a moment, muscles burning at the exertion to get to you as quickly as possible. Not seeing you standong near your vehicle, he understood in an instant the danger you were in. Looking over the edge, he saw something that made his heart stop. You were hanging on by a few mud covered roots jutting out from the side of the gorge.

Without a second thought he shifted, knowing that hands would be more useful than paws. He scooped you up and brought you against him. Checking you over for injuries, he breath a sigh of relief when he found only a few scraps.

You looked up at your savior, only to pause. He somehow made your heart race faster than the near death experience you just endured. You felt drawn to him, like the booming thunder that followed the lighting around you. Your sudden emotions moved you more than the raging storm that engulfed the both of you. He held you close yet delicately, it was an intoxicating feeling.

After a moment of you admiring each other, you came to your senses. “Let's get to my vehicle.” You guided him to the truck and you each made your way inside. Panting you took a bit to gather yourself. What was that, you had never felt emotions at such an intensity. Taking deep breath, you turned to your savior.

Only to gasp as you noticed his lack of clothes. “Oh, uh.” You looked away and then did another quick glance. As impressive as his physic was, you weren't sure what was going on. “Why, uh, where are your clothes?”

He never took his eyes off you. “I do not have any.”

An odd answer to an equally odd question. Then a thought passed through your mind. The storm must have swept them away. It wouldn't be the first time that a visitor lost something at the park. “OK then. What is my savior's name?”

“I am called Santana.”

Starting up the vehicle, you tried to keep your thoughts on a purer path. “Well, my friend Joseph is about your size. I'm sure he would be willing to lend some to you.” With that settled you drove towards the housing area.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Absolutely not.” So maybe he wasn't willing to help your savior.

Shaking your head at his negative reaction, you crossed your arms over your chest. “Joseph come on. He saved me and has nothing to wear. You can't lend him anything?”

“No, you don't understand, he not what you think he is.” Pointing over at him accusingly. “That guy is a monster.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “So monsters go around saving people from falling to death. Whatever, let's get out of here.” You then grabbed his hand and led him to your home. Voicing your irritation of Joseph attitude the whole way. “I mean how could he be such a jerk to the guy who saved me.” You went on rambling as you sifted through your clothes. Pulling out your baggiest options, something usually reserve for your period, you held them out. “This is all I have that might work. I'm sorry my coworker couldn't be more helpful.” You faced away from him, giving him a bit of privacy. Though that didn't keep his nude image from your mind.

He was elated, as he slid the clothes on, he inhaled. Your scent surrounded and pressed against him. It was pure ecstasy. Glancing around the room, he tried to commit everything to memory. The few knick knacks and trinkets scattered around. The interesting array of books that were strewn about. Even the random sock that was abandoned half under your bed. It all screamed you and he wanted to take in every bit of it.

Then his eyes landed on you. Back turned to him, the rain water made your uniform cling to your body in a delicious manner. He yearned to reach out and hold you, just as he remember on the cliffside. To have your bodies meld together once more. That would truly be his own heaven.

Thinking you had given him plenty of time, and want to not be alone with your thoughts any longer. You turned back towards him. Only to be taken aback at what you saw. His eyes were dark and lustful.

In that moment your body reacted. Like a moth to a flame or a wave crashing into the bow of a ship. You collided like magnets, unable to stay apart. Your bodies met followed by your lips. Melding together like puzzle pieces. The raw emotion that fueled the kiss was electrifying.

Then a throat was cleared. Tearing yourself from his mouth, you were shocked to see a similarly built purple haired man and Joseph. They stood in the doorway, the new man wearing a smirk on his face and only a loincloth on his body. Joseph had his mouth agape and some clothes in his hands.

“I hope we weren't interrupting anything.” The tone of his voice made it obvious that he knew just what he was intruding upon. He entered your small home and looked over at your savior. “Santana, it seems that fate has gifted you a wonderful mate. You should thank the Moon Goddess for such a blessing.”

He faced the man and laid an arm around your waist. “I have Elder Kars, many times over in fact.”

“Very good. Let us proceed to the common area. There is much to discuss.” He grabbed the still stunned Joseph's arm and dragged him to the large building nearby.

Santana offer his arm to you and politely led you as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat there and tried to absorb all of the information that had been dumped in your lap. Not only were Werewolves real, but the government was covering up their existence. They were considered refugees and given ‘homes’ in National Parks. Which led to an official peace treaty between Werewolves and humans.

On top of that, you were the mate of a Werewolf from the park you were assigned to study wolf behavior. Part of you wanted to scream in frustration. But as you looked at Santana, you could only feel a warmth towards him. There was truly something supernatural about the way he made you feel. “Well, what do we do now?”

Without missing a beat he said. “We spend the rest of our lives together.”

The statement made your heart flutter. Still you had your reservation about it being that simple. Looking over at your superior and the Elder Werewolf, you furrowed your brow. “Is that allowed?”

Kars nodded. “It is not common, but there have been similar mated couples in the past. If it is what you wish, we will not stand between you.”

Looking back at you guessed your mate, you beamed. He looked at you with loved and devotion in his eyes. It was a sight you wanted to hold onto forever. But you grew nervous as your gaze turned to Joseph. “What about the government?”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “There actually for it as well.”

This cause a weight to be lifted from your shoulders. If they were against it, you weren't sure how the situation could end up.

He held his hand up. “I wouldn't celebrate to soon. They want to see how a relationship between a human and Werewolf would be work. Make you a study case of sorts. You should think about what that would mean before you make a final decision.” With that the two men ushered you back to your home to discuss the situation in private. Joseph adding on that it shouldn't lead to anymore ‘funny business’. You swore that everyday you spent with him, that man treated you more like a younger sibling.

Sitting on your bed, you took his hands into your own. “I don't want them to act as if your something to experiment on. You should be allowed to have your life not be examined.”

He brought a hand to your face and gently cupped your cheek. You leaned into it instinctually. “I would endure anything to be by your side. Even if we have to run, by your side I will always be content.” Then your lips sealed together once more.

It may not be the best of circumstances. But every moment you spent together was a step closer to a life spent happily.

[final-girl96]

Broken World: Chapter Five

The Quarry

We slowly drove up the winding dirt road that led back to the quarry. In the distance, you could see a crystal clear blue lake. It was so beautiful and looked so peaceful. It was almost like the world wasn't falling apart, the dead pouring from its seams, ripping and tearing to get out so they could grab any living thing with their decaying hands and rip their rotting teeth into its flesh.

Shortly after, as we grew closer and closer to the camp that sat just up on the hill from the lake, an RV came into view. An umbrella sat over a folding chair, and that chair sat the speck of a person, who slowly started to stand. The closer we got, the more I could see. There were a few cars parked behind the RV, tents scattered around in a little tent city. A couple of places had fire pits, one for cooking, one for the group to sit around. A separate firepit sat separate from the others a little ways.

People started to gather as Glenn came to a stop. An older man with a white beard and a bucket hat stood in the front with two blonde women off to the side. On his other side stood a man with dark hair wearing a gray tee shirt with some kind of symbol on the left breast. A dark-haired woman with a small boy standing behind her stood not far from him. "They're all nice people. You'll fit in just fine," Glenn said before getting out of the car. The hair haired man and the man with the white beard walked over to him.

I sighed, looking down at my lap. My badge hung from a chain around my neck. The only time I ever took it off was when I would clean up and go to sleep. It was somewhat of a security blanket for me, I suppose. It was something that told me I was going to be okay and I could survive this mess. But it was also a reminder of the reason I didn't have the one person I wished was by my side. I had to remind myself that I worked hard to get this badge and Daryl Dixon could go fuck himself.

I looked back up to see the dark haired man pointing at me. Glenn turned around and gave me a small smile, nodding his head to come over and meet everyone. I took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped out into the Georgia heat. I walked over beside Glenn and looked at the dark-haired man in front of me. He looked down at my badge and then back up at me. "You're a cop?" He asked. I looked at the symbol on his shirt. It was for a police department in Kings County.

"I was a detective," I said. He nodded his head. "I'm Officer Shane Walsh," he held out his hand and I shook it. "YN Stone. I hope you don't mind Glenn bringing me back with him. I did bring some guns and ammo, along with some food and water." The man with the white beard came to stand in front of me and shook my hand. "I'm Dale. You're more than welcome." His soft smile helped put me a ease. He seemed like he was the reason of the group. The person who gave purpose and hope to everyone.

Dale introduced me to everyone, Andrea and Amy, who were sisters. The Morales family, Sophia and Carol, and Carol's husband Ed, whom I got a bad vibe from. Jim, Jacquie, and T-Dog. A few others in the camp and then finally Lori and her son Carl. I learned Lori's husband and Shane's best friend were also a cop. He had been shot a few weeks before everything happened and was in a comma went shit went down. Shane tried to go back for him, but there was nothing he could do with all the machines he was hooked to, and then the hospital was bombed.

They had an extra tent available for me to use, which I was grateful for. I looked around while I helped unpack the supplie Glenn and I brought back. I noticed a truck that looked oddly familiar, but I just shook my head and put it out of my mind. There were apparently two other people, but they were out hunting for the group. That night, we sat around the fire and exchanged stories, and I was asked a lot of questions.

"So you were a detective?" Andrea asked. I learned that she was a civil rights lawyer before the outbreak. I nodded my head, "Yes. I was a homicide detective," I said. "You're kind of young, aren't you?" She asked. I chuckled and looked down at my lap. "Um…yeah, I'm only twenty-six. I had to work really hard to get where I was. But it was a dream of mine, and I wasn't going to stop until I made it happen." After a while, everyone went to bed, and Shane climbed on top of the rv to keep watch.

I lay on the cot in my tent, staring up at the canvas ceiling. It's been a while since I had any kind of interaction with people. It felt nice not to be alone. I was so grateful that Glenn showed up. Everyone here seemed super nice. Well, apart from Ed, Carol's husband. Carol is a sweet woman but very timid. One look at Ed told me he wasn't a good man. I could also sense secrets in the group. Especially between Shane and Lori.

I shook my head to clear my mind. My fingers curled around my badge, and I closed my eyes. I don't know how long I laid there like that, but eventually, I fell asleep. It wasn't a deep sleep, I've never been one to sleep too deeply. I was a light sleeper and woke up at any nose I heard. It was going to take some time getting used to sleeping in a tent outside so close to the woods.

I know they said that walkers don't come up this way, but one day, they'll run out of food in the city and start looking for more elsewhere. I tossed and turned on my cot for a couple hours, trying to get some kind of sleep, and when I failed, I sat up and left the tent. The air was a lot cooler now that it was dark. But by the time the sun came up, it would be warm again and only get warmer as the day went on.

I looked over at the RV to now see Dale sitting in the chair on top of it. I slowly walked over and climbed the ladder on the back of the rv, climbing to the top. "Mind if I join you? I couldn't sleep," I whispered, not wanting to wake anyone sleeping inside. He gave me a soft, kind smile and nodded his head. I walked over and sat near him. I dangled my legs over the side of the rv and looked out over the lake. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" I hummed in response. "It really is. I don't think I've ever seen such blue water before," I said. We sat in a comfortable silence until the sun started to come up.

[teecupangel]

Hello. Hope you're feeling good.

I was wondering if assassins in modern au weren't assassin and just lived like normal people what was their job?

Hi, nonny. I'm doing good. Just found some time to rest up after all the moving and unpacking XD

Oooohhh, I like this ask, nonny, but Imma cheat a bit and use a lot of my answers from the modern-day fic I wrote last year XD

Altaïr

I think this will depend on how much you want to reference Altaïr’s upbringing in AC1.

If you want an almost beat-by-beat reference, Altaïr will be heading some kind of PMC that he ‘inherited’ from his foster grandfather. He’s born into the family business and it’s the only life he knows. Reading about new tech helps make the PMC always be up to date with their equipment but Altaïr usually reads any kind of scientific advancement on his down time.

If you want to give him more freedom to choose his own path, his scholarly nature would make him a job in the field of science or history (with philosophy being a favorite hobby of his)

History: more on archaeology who mainly does fieldwork, sometimes goes to conventions and symposiums to talk about his team’s latest finds. His journals detailing each day when he’s in the field are usually published and a lot of people in the field enjoy reading his thoughts… even if he sometimes gets off track and there’s suddenly a drawing of the person he loves in one of the pages…

Science: owner of a privately-funded research and development company (might even have funded it from the inheritance he got from his foster grandfather) and actually leads one of the teams. The company focuses on researching and developing new tech that would make life easier for everyone although Altaïr does have a notebook filled with the deadliest ideas for weapons that he doesn’t really have any plans to make.

Ezio

Definitely born into a rich family that operates one of the oldest banks in Italy and he’s being trained to be a COO. Would have summer jobs in one of their banks.

His passion though lies in the arts and he would paint whenever he needs to relax. His parents agreed for him to take art classes because they want to support him (and Federico is meant to inherit the business anyway).

He meets his best friend in art class and they start a friendly competition of painting the same thing.

His friend is the one who gets recognized but that’s fine with him. He paints because it relaxes him, he’s not there for the spotlight.

Their banks would have framed paintings of his and he still paints as a hobby.

He mostly works for the family bank as a foreign representative, going to other countries to help out a new branch, train the new management, and sometimes talk to possible clients and partners.

Ratonhnhaké:ton

His father wants him to inherit the family business but he decides to take over his mother’s job as the representative of their tribe and the usual liaison that talks to outsiders.

His mother is currently a judge in tribal courts.

He also works similarly to a park ranger and would check their lands regularly, making sure nobody trespasses or hunts in the nearby forests.

The Kenways:

Edward married a socialite named Tessa Kenway a few years after the death of his first wife.

Before that, he used to be a captain of a freight ship. With Tessa’s money, he started his own freight shipping company.

He’s now retired with his son taking over his company and lives with his wife in Kenway mansion. He sometimes visit his son and grandson to annoy his son and to just ‘hang out’ (“Isn’t that what you kids say nowadays?” “… yes. I suppose so?””) with his grandson.

His oldest daughter (from his first marriage) ran away from home after they tried to get her engaged to a rich dude, Edward knows she’s living with Mary and Anne, two old buddies of Edward during his freight ship captain’ing days and visits sometimes. He didn’t tell Tessa though (it was Tessa’s idea to marry her off) because he doesn’t want things to escalate and Tessa has a suspicion that he’s having an affair with Mary or Anne (or both!) while Haytham learned that his sister is fine and living her best life when he tried to catch his father cheating for his mother.

Even in a modern day AU, the Kenways will still have drama. Them’s the rules.

Desmond:

Ran away from a very isolated community that may have been cultists or just really ‘we don’t trust the government’ kind of hippies. Desmond likes to joke both.

Works for a bar that has a new owner who isn’t afraid to try out new things.

Desmond thinks he’s flying by the seat of his pants but his heart is in the right place so Desmond tries to be supportive.

Also… he was given the go signal to adjust the drinks menu and make new drinks so that’s an automatic ‘that’s my boss and I support his decisions!’ for him.

Shirley Templar is his signature drink. He’s other signature drink is “Desmond Take The Wheel” which is just him preparing whatever the hell he wants for a customer who cannot take back the drink because that is what they ordered.

Shay:

Used to work for a freight ship with his dad being his captain together with his best friend Liam.

Hope works as a logistics support for the company they work for and also a radio operator when things get hectic. Shay and Hope may have been flirting on the radio for a while (much to his father’s amusement).

The company they’re working for started making really bad decisions after the owner lost his wife and son. Liam was transferred to another freight ship to be its captain and, during just a routine job, they got hit by a massive storm too far off the nearest coast which they wouldn’t have hit had their course not been switched an hour before their departure.

Shay’s father and a lot of the crew died that day and Shay blamed the owner because the route was approved by him. He refused to settle and lost with the cause being given as damnum fatale.

Haytham scouted him soon after and he was a captain first before being elevated to Head Logistics Officer.

Arno

He owns a cafe that once belonged to his uncle (not related to him but was a close friend of his father).

He’s been arrested for disorderly conduct (he was suppppeeer drunk and his longtime girlfriend/childhood friend just broke up with him) but the officers pitied him so they just let him sleep it off in one of the cells. The dude on the other cell started singing along when Arno began to sing sad love songs. Both of them were drunk though so they made the police officer giving them an easy time… well… a hard time.

He uses the profit he got from the cafe he inherited to buy more establishments.

He’s now focused on learning how to make a bar profitable… by buying a bar.

Jacob

He was the one in the other cell. He got into a bar fight but he wasn’t that drunk. The officers heard the fight happen because some slurs about Jacob’s sexual preferences were shouted by the other dude so the officer just left Jacob with a warning.

He’s actually the owner of a small orphanage and has an out-of-school youth program that usually helps children from high-risk areas. All of this is funded by his family (to be more exact, his sister).

He has a degree in pediatrics and this is his dream job.

This might (if the rumors were true) have been because he had been an unwitting accessory to a tragic fire as a young man that led to the death of children.

He has an adopted son named Jack.

Evie

Doctor, got top marks in her batch, and continued their late father’s job as a concierge doctor. She took over her father’s patients who are all quite wealthy (including the Kenways).

On her vacations, she would join her long-time boyfriend (“You married yet?” “No, Jacob. Jayadeep and I believe-” “Yes, yes, if it happens, it happens, blah, blah, blah.”) who is part of Doctors Without Borders.

She’s officially the head of the Frye family which she inherited from their father but she always gives Jacob his share (“So you’re still a trustfund baby.” “Pretty much, I guess. My sister loves me… as long as she doesn’t have to hear about my latest dumb stunt.”) while also donating a lot to his orphanage and program.

There are rumors that it’s a money laundering thing but that’s unfounded.

Bayek

The police officer who had to suffer thru Arno’s drunken singing of his ex’s beautiful flaming hair and Jacob’s sulking.

Almost always gets the graveyard shift so his fellow officers can go home and spend them with their families.

Used to be married, and had a divorce after a hit-and-run killed their only son, he still has a picture of his family on his table and everyone knows he still loves his ex but the death of their child was too much for both of them.

His ex may or may not be part of the government’s secret intelligence gathering bureau… maybe. Bayek does not know and does not want to know as he doesn’t want to risk her job in any way IF she was an actual spy.

Layla:

Still works for Abstergo and still has a feud going on with Sofia Rikkins.

Kinda friends with Lucy and Daniel Cross, enjoys adding chaos to annoy Berg if she knows she can get away with (or make someone like Robert take the fall).

Likes to drink in Desmond’s bar (technically Arno’s) and always takes the “Desmond takes the wheel” option.

Okay, so these ones aren’t Assassins or Hidden Ones (officially) but I kinda felt bad leaving them out since I wrote about Bayek.

Kassandra

MMA fighter who came from a military family.

Had a falling out with her stepfather when she was young and she left. It’s not clear if she left on her own or if she was kicked out and she doesn’t like to talk about it.

She only talks to her younger brother although her mother is trying to mend broken bridges… it… isn’t really working… unfortunately.

Her brother is in the army per the traditions of their family and she always worries about him.

Eivor

Spokesperson for her foster brother and working to help out for his reelection at the moment.

Her passion is in poetry though (and drinking everyone under but that’s more of a pastime) and she’s working on compiling her poems into a book. Her poems are quite beautiful but tend to be on the side of trash-talking certain types of people.

It took months but the ravens/crows around the area of her home now recognize her and would leave trinkets as a thank you for always feeding them.

Note: not a lawyer so I’m not sure if damnum fatale can be used for Shay’s part but Imma wave my fanfic writer card.

[scoobydoodean]

Wanted to chat about some tangential things in my last reply of this post and the related reply from @deanwinchesterwebsite while sparing all of us the length of the whole post.

Slightly off the topic of money, but I like what you said about how Dean constantly offers or encourages Sam to grab at moments of normalcy (staying with Lori, Sarah, whichever woman is representing a normal life that episode) whereas Sam rejects that -- it can happen after the revenge plot when Sam goes back to his "normal" life. This is merely an interruption. But Dean knows there's always something else to hunt, and there is no "getting out". His whole life he's tried to build periods of normalcy, knowing it won't last. Does Sam also know deep down that there's no "after", since he experienced that childhood too, and he just doesn't want to accept that he likes hunting? Or does he still believe in that dream, as evidenced by him telling Dean to get out and live an apple pie life after he jumps in Swan Song?

Dean as Sam's Relationship Cheerleader™️ is something I've meant to dedicate a gifset to for some time. He is constantly trying to get Sam to connect with people. Lori, Sarah, Madison—even Meg. I do have this set along a related vein. I also have a tag for Sam not being carried along by the tides of the immutable sea, but I made that tag so long and complicated I can't actually get it to work anymore for some reason... I need to shorten it. My tag #sams motivations is meant to include a lot of posts giving context to Sam's choices (I have a considerable backlog of gifsets I need to make for this), and #sam the hunter for his relationship to hunting.

From my personal perspective, hunting and family are deeply connected for Sam. He tells us (Charlie) this the most plainly in 10.18:

SAM Yeah. I guess I really understand now that….this is my life. I love it. But I can’t do it without my brother. I don’t want to do it without my brother. And if he’s gone, then I don’t….

This little bit of dialogue imo explains a lot about what many would consider "wishy-washy" behavior from Sam over the first 2/3rds of the series. Hunting is a family first activity for Sam. If the family is dead, he will get revenge (season 1, 2, 4) or quit (season 8) if family is alive but attempting to live peacefully, he will seek out other family (the Campbells in season 6). Season 8 is the trickiest of all. I have a very long post about Sam's headspace in season 8 here.

Unpacking Sam's views on hunting is tough to do in some places in a way that answers everyone's "but what about...?" moments, because while the result is often the same (Sam is hunting), the motivation is often very different and quite varied.

Season 1

Hunting is revenge, then it's also a coping measure for Sam's grief, and then it begins to develop as a mission (1.20). At the same time, Sam absolutely sees it as a temporary reality of his life—a detour from his normal life (1.16).

However, there's also The John Wound™️ which begins healing up in 1.08 when Sam learns that John periodically checked up on Sam when he was in school to make sure he was safe. There's their hug in 1.16, and there's their conversation about the college fund in 1.20 where John explains himself and apologizes and Sam says he and John are the same. Sam has more sympathy for John Winchester than anyone else, and I think that's something that people often, somehow, miss. This renewed connection with John—still filled with flashes of anger as they butt heads—is this precious, fragile thing that slips through Sam's fingers like so many grains of sand before he really gets to feel they've "fixed" it because John dies.

Season 2

The seeds having been planted in 1.08, 1.16, and 1.20 (to some extent also in 1.02). After John's death, hunting is how Sam feels close to his family (especially John) and honors the memory of their parents. It's how he deals with the regret of all the things he and John didn't get to say and mend. He talks about hunting in John's memory instead of going back to school (2.02), and he insists on bringing John's dog tags to Lawrence so he can place them on Mary's grave (2.04).

In 2.20, he tells Dean he's glad they know each other and get along, when the context is Dean's djinn dream where they never spoke, and Sam got everything he wanted in the Pilot—Jess, the white picket fence, the law degree.

In 2.10, Sam refers to hunting as something that he can't escape—says California was him running, and implies hunting is something he doesn't want to escape anymore. He tells Dean he's just going to have to stick around being a hunter if he wants to support Sam, because Sam isn't going to run and he isn't going to stop.

Dean is balking at the hunting life and desperate for a break, and Sam says, "You're a hunter. I mean, it's what you were meant to do" (2.10). He reiterates—in 2.20 when Dean is spilling despair and grief out of every pore—that the job is worth it despite all of the pain because of the people they've saved. In the beginning of 2.13, he's jealous that Henriksen put out warrants for Dean but not for him after the fiasco at the bank.

It's worth noting though that Sam also has a more fatalistic perspective this season. At times he believes he should be killed before he turns "bad" (and pushes Dean to promise to take him out when he knows Dean won't). He isn't necessarily facing the idea of hunting for the rest of his life. He's facing the reality of turning evil quite imminently and then a young and bloody death (he wishes, at his brother's hand before he hurts anyone), and episodes like 2.11 Playthings and 2.18 Hollywood Babylon and 2.13 Houses of the Holy reveal he's also motivated to hunt as a distraction and to prove that he can subvert his demonic destiny.

Season 3

Demonic destiny subverted (they think—until Ruby tips Sam off about Lilith and the title The Boy King starts getting throw around) Sam focuses on Dean. Dean intends to burn bright for the whole year until his deal is up, and go down in a blaze of glory, and Sam spends the first 2/3rds of the season trying to get Dean to care and secretly working on plans to save his life and growing more and more bold and ruthless about it.

One episode after calling Ruby a "cold bitch" for telling him not to feel guilty about killing two human hosts (3.04), Sam shoots a crossroad's demon, killing the human host because he's furious that he's powerless to save Dean (3.05). When Dean dies in Mystery Spot, Sam turns into a hunting machine obsessed with vengeance against Gabriel. In 3.12 Jus In Bello, he considers human sacrifice. In 3.15, it's using an immortal's alchemy and turning himself and Dean into frankenstein's monsters. He summons Ruby behind Dean's back and against his dying wishes looking for a last play to save his brother's life. He wants his brother with him and he's growing more and more desperate and more and more willing to traverse dubious ground to get what he wants—what he needs.

Sam also talks about honing his skills as a hunter to become strong enough to face life (demons, Lilith) without Dean (3.09). He talks about becoming like Dean while Dean worries because Sam isn't acting like himself. Sam reveals a brutality in 3.07 Fresh Blood meant to recall Dean's brutal kill via chop saw in 2.03 Bloodlust. He no longer insists on sparing human's leveraging supernatural power to murder others (3.09).

He isn't looking for normal. He is looking for a way out.

Season 4+

I think you're right on the money on Sam seeing an "after" to hunting for a long time, or needing to see one and getting very self-destructive (and otherwise destructive) if he doesn't. Crucially though, the "after" Sam sees doesn't have to be a "Normal, Apple Pie" life. It just has to be different from the unsustainable pain they're in now. I think the Apple Pie Life is something Sam wants to secure for Dean in season 5 because of the conversation they have in 4.12 "Criss Angel Is A Douchebag"—the conversation that leads Sam straight back to drinking demon blood after quitting in 4.04:

DEAN Man...hope I die before I get old. Whole thing seems brutal, don't it? SAM You think we will? DEAN What? SAM Die before we get old. DEAN Haven't we both already? SAM You know what I mean, Dean. I mean, do you think we'll still be chasing demons when we're 60? DEAN No, I think we'll be dead...for good. What? You want to end up like -- Like Travis? Huh? Or Gordon, maybe? SAM There's Bobby. DEAN Oh, yeah, there's a poster child for growing old gracefully. SAM Maybe we'll be different, Dean.

Sam imagines him and Dean growing old, hunting together. Sam imagines them shifting into a role like Bobby's in their old age (something close to what Sam begins cultivating in the late seasons with the Men of Letters and the bunker and his AU hunters). It's a romanticization—a hopeful look ahead to a future where they aren't drowning in grief at all times even if the struggle never ends. They keep an eye on the world, but they aren't guiltily beholden to it. But then Dean says:

DEAN What kind of Kool-Aid you drinking, man? Sammy, it ends bloody or sad. That's just the life.

Sam hates this. He hates that Dean says this, and he wants to fix it. He wants to change Dean's future—secure his future—both of their futures. He doesn't want to be fighting like they're fighting now when he's old, and he doesn't want to die young. He also doesn't want that for Dean, and he learns Dean (at that time at least) doesn't want to be like Bobby or Rufus when he's old. So he needs to save the world so Dean will grow old. He needs to cut off the head of the snake (kill Lilith) even if Dean doesn't like how he does it:

SAM What if we could win? DEAN "Win"? SAM If there was a way we could just...put an end to all of it. DEAN Is there something going on you're not telling me? SAM No. DEAN Sammy. SAM No. Look, I'm just saying...I just wish there was a way we could...go after the source. That's all. Cut the head off the snake. DEAN Well, the problem with the snake is that it has a thousand heads. Evil bitches just keep piling out of the Volkswagen. SAM Yeah. Guess you're right. <- (Sam, thinking about a call he needs to make to Ruby immediately)

In 4.15, Sam says he and Dean are special—outside the natural order. They have a special place in the world and special duties.

There's 4.17 "It's A Terrible Life" where Sam is thrust into "Supernormal" along with Dean, and very quickly smashes his phone... and at the end, asks Dean become monster hunters with him. There's 5.12 "Swap Meat" where Sam turns his nose up at the teenager who has the exact life Sam used to envy.

SAM I totally lied. That kid's life sucked ass. All that apple-pie, family crap? It's stressful. Trust me – we didn't miss a damn thing. DEAN Or we don't know what we're missing.

That disagreement—that little bit we see where Sam has rejected normal but he knows Dean wants it—Dean wants it so so badly but he doesn't believe he can have it—that's the basis for Sam's demand that Dean go and he live a normal, apple pie life.

In 4.19, after the brothers meet and bond with "Adam". Sam immediately wants to train him up as a hunter. Dean balks—thinking Adam has a chance to escape the life—that he hasn't been dragged in yet and doomed. "He could be a doctor"—he could be someone normal. Sam says all he sees is someone vulnerable, ready to become monster chow. He says John did right by them by teaching them to protect themselves. When Dean talks about Adam's hopeful "normal" future, Sam says, "What makes him so special?"

Dean asks if Sam's jealous—but I don't think that's exactly it. What it is is that Adam is not the only person who gets to be happy. Sam thinks, "We can be happy too! We're cursed, but we aren't doomed!" They won't fix their lives by running from hunting or never being involved in it to begin with, but they aren't doomed. They'll escape everything through hunting—by killing Lilith and destroying hell's plans.

Adam is a Winchester and therefore already cursed. But Sam thinks... the curse of hunting is better. The curse makes you special. The curse is something Sam hates... but he also loves it, and he was never going to be normal. Normal was always the foolish pipe dream of a boy running and hiding. He was never going to be normal. But it still isn't a tragedy, because Sam won't let it be one. Sam will take everything that's happened to them—to him—and make something good out of it (4.04). He will be powerful, and he will build a life out of rubble everyone else (Dean) looked at and said the house was totaled and they're toast. If Dean doesn't want to grow old together taking up Bobby's mantle... well—Sam will prove to him that he can still get out—that Sam can get him out—by crushing Lilith. Then in season 8 by closing the gates of Hell (long post that connects season 8 in here).

Sam gets Dean out at the end of season 5, and even soulless, Sam seeks out family, and he goes to hunting, while leaving Dean in the Apple Pie life Sam secured for him. Temporarily, Sam wins. He proves that Dean can get out and be happy. They repeat similar patterns in season 8 (8.14 and Sam promising to take Dean to the light at the end of the tunnel—again by stopping demons) and once again, Sam tries to prove Dean can be happy—both of them can—only this time, he fails. He begins cultivating the Bobby life for them in season 12 onward, and he thinks it's starting to work... except when it isn't—except when Dean still doesn't believe he can be saved—that he can be happy. Dean attempts suicide after losing Mary and Cas and Crowley. Dean doesn't believe they can beat Michael and he tries to drop himself in the ocean in a coffin and Sam's eyes burn with tears as he punches Dean and demands he believe Sam can save him.

All of this is also why Sam's ending is a tragedy. Sam's ending is a mourning pyre to a dead brother. It is Sam sitting with his greatest failure. It is himself, shoe-horned into the life he thought he could secure for Dean but failed to secure. It is the life Sam no longer wanted, but the only way he knows how to live if Dean is dead. He can't do it without his brother. He periodically goes out to sit in the car and mourn, closing his eyes and thinking of times gone by when Dean was here and Sam was happy—because Sam was a freak... but he wasn't alone. Dean was right there with him all the way.

[dedicatednotobsessed]

Blended Family [Tom Glynn-Carney x Best Friend!Reader]

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Summary: Growing up, you and Tom had been the best of friends. It didn’t change when you ended up getting a boyfriend, although Tom expresses his distaste for him on a daily. As you were ready to pull the trigger and end your relationship, you found out you were pregnant. You gave birth to a beautiful baby girl and as she grew older, you realized the one you should be with is Tom….

Warnings in this chapter:

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🔥Part Four🔥

You sighed softly as you kept your eyes on your phone while Tom drove you and Evie to the place he would be staying for the duration of filming. You kept getting knots in your stomach at the thought of Charlie hunting you down because you decided to go against him.

Tom glanced over to you with furrowed brows and lightly placed a hand on your knee. “Hey, you okay?” He asked quietly.

You nodded while setting your phone in your lap. “Just anxious.”

Tom sighed softly, his hand moving over yours. He took it in his and squeezed it gently. “You should just break things off because he shouldn’t make you feel this way.”

You sniffled while shaking your head a bit. You didn’t enjoy talking about Charlie in such a way while Evie was present. “You know why I can’t,” You whispered with furrowed brows.

Tom glanced to you before looking back at the road. He sighed and kept his hand in yours, eventually pulling up to the flat that he had rented. You knew how tired he was becoming for your same excuses, but you were honestly scared. You had no idea what Charlie was truly capable of.

You thanked him quietly when he helped you out before moving to Evie who bounded out happily. She was bursting with energy even after the long flight.

“Do I get my own room?” She asked suddenly, whining a bit as she tried to get her toy suitcase out. You let her bring her toy suitcase, yet it was a challenge to get her to not pack all of her toys.

Tom chuckled a bit at Evie’s excitement and nodded. “There’s two rooms so you get your own and so does your mummy.”

Evie squealed at that but you frowned while turning to Tom. “What about you?”

He shrugged. “It’s a pullout couch, I’ll be fine.”

You shook your head while helping him with the suitcases. “No, you take the other bedroom.”

Tom smiled lightly. “Or…we can share a bed.”

You returned his smile and laughed a bit, letting him go up to the front door to unlock it. You sighed softly watching Evie practically bolt inside. She seemed happier around Tom than around Charlie.

You dragged the suitcases with you, two of yours and one of Evie’s blowing out a breath. You smiled lightly at the sight of the dropped suitcase and followed your daughter’s excited screams into her room. There was already a bed set up for her along with dressers and a bookshelf.

“You went all out already.” You hummed turning to Tom who chuckled.

“She’s like a daughter to me and I only want the best for Princess Evelyn.”

You smiled sheepishly at that. You knew Tom was right- he always treated your daughter as though she was his own.

“Mummy!” Evie’s cry brought you back into reality. “Can we eat yet?” She pouted.

You giggled. “Let us unpack then we can go out and grab a bite.”

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You slowly walked out into the living room with a blanket wrapped around you, a small smile on your lips seeing Tom setting up his bed.

“Do you want some company?” You called and smiled more when he turned to you.

“Well, I always love someone to cuddle with,” Tom replied returning your smile and chuckled.

You laughed with him and walked closer, sitting beside him and wrapping your blanket around him. You let out a content sigh as you laid your head on his chest while he pulled you close. You smiled lightly hearing his heart race a bit.

“You really don’t have to take the couch, you know,” You said quietly after a moment.

Tom blew out a breath. “I know,” He replied with furrowed brows. “But I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries.”

You shook your head. “You could never.”

“Are you sure?”

You lifted your head and smiled as your eyes connected with his blue ones. “I’m sure,” You replied quietly.

Tom rubbed your back lightly as he looked over your features. He smiled a bit, reaching up to push back some of your hair. You didn’t know what overcame you as you bit your lip gently, feeling your eyes flutter close while leaning up slowly.

Tom leaned down as well, meeting you in the middle. Your lips crashed against his, his fingers tangling in your hair while slowly pushing you down. Your mind was saying this was wrong but your heart was telling you something different.

In that moment, Charlie did not exist. It was only you and Tom feeling his hands trail down to the hem of your shirt. You released the kiss and placed your hand over his.

“We should probably go to the other bedroom,” You breathed out. “Just in case Evie wakes up.”

Tom smiled a bit, a wash of relief coming over him. He stood up and picked you up, hooking his arms under your legs while leading you to the other bedroom. You giggled when he closed the door behind him before his lips hungrily found yours again.

In that moment, it all felt so right. Nothing else mattered except for you and Tom.

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{tagged readers: ✨ @mrsdaemontargaryen ✨ || @afro-hispwriter || @aphroditeisamilf || @chainsawsangel || @clairacassidy || @eddies-bat-tattoos || @namelesslosers || @xcharlottemikaelsonx }

[tinymoonrider]

Hello!! What about a story with yandere cowboy (male) x reader(female). In which reader decides to move to a house that belonged to her parents in a village and live close to nature. She could embrace farm life, no internet access there and the cowboy who offers to help her. Robberies happen from time to time between different villages and reader could be caught in one. Thanks for your time

What Neighbors Do

Summary: After moving into a new village in your parent's Ranch, you start to get to know your new neighbor. If only things could just go as planned. 

Warnings: Yandere themes, guns, swearing, robbery, character death

A/N: Sorry for not updating last week. I had a deadline for work so it took a little longer for this to get properly edited. Also, thank you for your request, I hope you like it! 

The main character is Female. 

--

It had been about two years since my parents had passed. Since then, I have been having trouble obtaining a connection with my family. Their death was a blind side. It was weird for a while knowing they weren't going to be with me any more. I had been thinking about getting closer with my family and how I should find a way to be with them. When a package came in the mail from my uncle, I was pretty excited to find out that he had invited me to my parents' ranch. Included in the package, was a key with a letter explaining the details. This is the push I needed. I can finally be closer to my family. Excited, I started packing for the move.

--

After a couple of months, I was finally able to move in. Arriving at the ranch, I texted my uncle about my arrival and started unpacking my things into the new house. A couple of months prior, I had shipped most of my furniture to the ranch, my uncle promising to take care of it for me. Grabbing a stack of boxes from the rented pick up, I work to get them all inside.

Setting them down in a corner of the room, I go back out to grab some more only to find a tall man peering into the truck bed. "Can I help you?" I call out, arms crossed in front of my chest. The man turns around, he grabs his cattleman, bringing it to his chest. He extends his hand out to me.

"Hey, ya must be the new neighbor, 'eh?" He flashes me a welcoming grin, "Name's Zachary. Zachary Hunt. Ya, can call me Zach." He winks, "I'm your closest neighbor 'round here." I take his hand to shake, his grip is firm, veins that run along the back of his hand bulge slightly.

"Hi Zach, my name is (Y/n)." His grin grows wider, white canine teeth peering from his lips.

"It's real nice to meet ya. Ah, I apologize by the way. I don't mean to be rude, jus' can't help myself from being a bit nosy. Was here a while ago actually. I was helpin' to move in yer furniture." He puts his cattleman back on and casually leans against the side of the bed.

"Oh, really? Did you receive any help?" He nods.

"Yer uncle helped out. He mentioned yer coming."

"Thanks… Sorry, I'd invite you inside but.." I gesture around to my stuff still inside the bed of the truck. He nods chuckling.

"Don't worry 'bout it," he turns towards the pile of boxes, arms flexing slightly due to his grip, "how 'bout I help ya with yer thin's?"

"You really don't have to. I'd hate to bother you." I say, rushing to grab the boxes from his hands. He shakes his head and snakes around me, walking towards the house.

"It's what neighbors do." I grab a couple of boxes and jog a little to catch up with him. "'Sides," He winks at me, "It'll be nice to get to know ya better." Heat rises to my face causing me to hide behind the stack of boxes I'm carrying.

--

By the time we finished unloading and unboxing a couple of the boxes, the blistering sun had set. The air around us was getting colder. His milk chocolate hair clinging to his delicately, sun-kissed skin. I grab him a bottle of water from the fridge. Thanking me as he takes it from my hands, he brings the frosted bottle to the underside of his neck. Swiping it along the underside of his chin, I bite the inside of my cheek looking away. Settling down next to him on the steps we enjoy the sunset in silence for a bit. The cool breeze cards through my hair, sweeping against my sweaty skin.

"Thanks again for helping me out. I really hope I didn't keep you from anything." His eyes focus on mine, an arm slung over a knee.

"Don't worry 'bout it. I love to help out when I can." He takes a sip of his water, "Actually, I used to help out yer folks. They seemed very nice."

"Really?" He nods, a soft smile over taking his features. I can't help but mirror his expression. "You know, my mom always wanted to retire on a farm. My mom always enjoyed nature and plants." I feel my eyes well up, "She would tell me stories of how much she missed living on the farm with her parents back when she was little."

"Yeah, she was pretty happy to be here. Always had a smile on her face." I chuckle while wiping at my eyes. "I'm sure they'd be happy 'yer here. I know I am."

--

It had been a couple of days since Zach's visit. Upon calling my uncle, who still hasn't shown up or answered, I took in the plant delivery that apparently hadn't been canceled. Deciding to start up the nursery again, I got to work while I waited for my uncle to call back. With some research and quick glances through a couple of botany books left in the living room, I did my best to prep the plants and to take care of them as best as I could. Hours later with a bit of help from Zach, a couple of customers had flocked in to look at the plants for sale.

--

"Thank you so much! Please come again soon!" The customer thanks me and takes their plants home with them.

I head into one of the greenhouses to ensure the sprinkler system is on and working. Doing a couple of rounds, and checking on the water tanks, I ensure that the little plants are still surviving under my care. "Knock, knock." Zach walked in, a hand behind his back, he took off his hat, holding it at his side. "Hey. I wanted to check up on yer progress. Looks like yer doin' well." He grins. "Didn't know ya liked plants."

"Yeah. My Mom and I have always really liked plants," I lean against one of the tables, gazing at him with a smile. He places his hat on the table next to me and smiles with a chuckle.

"Actually, I brought ya a 'Welcome to the neighborhood' gift." He reveals a gardenia plant. Most of the bulbs have yet to bloom but the ones who have, a nice scent to them. I take the plant from him.

"Thank you so much! They're so beautiful but, you really didn't have to." He shakes his head.

"I just wanted to see that smile of yers, Doll." He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly and turns away from me. "Do ya… Do ya want me to help ya plant it in yer backyard?" I nod, his face flushed from the heat, he grabs his hat and gestures to me to follow him to help me plant it.

Once we were finished, the front desk bell rings. Excusing myself, I go over to check on it. In the front, two women wait for my arrival, talking to each other quietly.

"Hi, sorry about the wait, I was planting something." One of the women shakes their head.

"Don't worry about it Dear." As I record down the plants they're taking and calculate their prices, the other woman gasps.

"Oh, is Zach here? I noticed his truck parked in your driveway." I look up at her and nod.

"Yeah, he was helping me plant some flowers he got for me, in my yard." Both women awe.

"Zach has always been so sweet hasn't he, Mel?" The other woman nods.

"Yeah, such a sweet heart. He's been especially happy as of late hasn't he Lisa?" Mel nudges the woman next to her with a wink.

"You know, he's been very upbeat since he heard you were moving in next door." As I recite their total due for their plants, I offer a questioning look to Mel.

"What do you mean?"

"Ever since he heard you were moving in, he's been a lot more active around the village community." She hands me some cash, "He usually just works around his farm. He won't leave unless he needs something from town or if we beg him to help us fix something we can't." Lisa nods, taking the plants from the table.

"Whenever he is in town, he's usually sporting a sour look. Like he was missing something… I guess he finally found it." She winks. Mel giggles, and takes the rest of the plants back to their car. Before I can offer to help them out, Zach rushes after them. I watch as he takes some of the plants from their hands and helps them to their car. I shrug it off and go inside to make him something to drink as thanks for helping out.

As soon as he gets back, I notice blood stains adorning the cuffs of his jeans. "Are you alright? What happened?" He shakes his head and waves me off.

"Just a little cut Doll. No need to worry 'bout me." I still go to head off to my bathroom to fetch the first aid kit. He grabs my arm and pulls me back over to him. "I can assure ya I'm alright. I'm gonna have to head home anyway. Time 'fer my hogs to eat." I nod and thank him again for his help. He tips his head down in a curt nod, and waves goodbye, the stain on his cuff growing to a dark brown.

--

A couple of months had passed and since then, my business has taken off. During that time, I had gone to my uncle's house with Zach only to find that he was missing. Worried, Zach helped me to file a missing persons report for him.

After a bit of time, I decided to finally invite Zach over for dinner.

"Thanks for invitin' me over, Doll. Any news on yer uncle?" I shake my head, letting him in. "Sorry to hear that. I'm sure he'll turn up soon."

"Yeah, I hope so too…" Leading him over to the table, I went into the kitchen to grab the meal I had planned for us. "I hope you don't mind spaghetti for tonight." Bringing in the bowl of noodles and sauce, I grabbed his plate and served him.

He chuckled, "Like I'd say no to spaghetti." Thanking me he waits until I'm done serving both our drinks and myself before taking a bite. He nods, a smile growing on his lips.

"Like it?"

"It's really good. If yer plant business never took off, ya could be a real successful chef." I smile as I dig in.

After we're both done, Zach asks me a couple of questions.

"Have ya been… hearin' weird things lately? Like 'round the house or anythin'?" I shake my head. "Good."

"Why? Should I be worried?" He sighs.

"Well, ya should be a bit careful. Especially at night." He leans back in his seat, the chair creaking. "I know yer a strong woman and I'm sure ya can hold yer own but, I'm still a little worried 'bout ya." I nod leaning forward.

"What's going on?"

"Our town has always had a bad robbery problem. Sometimes it'd get a little… botched… Folks have been hurt before. I wouldn't want the same to happen to ya."

"I'll be careful. You should too. Well, then again, you're also pretty strong." I grin. Taking my plate and cup, I reach for his only for him to clean it up and head over to the kitchen.

"I'll help ya. 'Least I could do fer ya." Following him, we soak our dishes and head back towards the living room. "Shit, I forgot. I made us some dessert as a thanks fer dinner." He grins. "I'll be right back. Ten minutes tops." He kissed my cheek before leaving, his face flushed red. I lock the door behind him and watch as he speeds off in his truck.

--

After Zach had come back with dessert, we watched a movie which I had accidentally fallen asleep to. Waking up in the middle of the night, tucked in bed, I search around for my phone. Without any luck, I get out of bed only to find a note left by Zach.

Hey Doll,

You fell asleep during the movie. I didn't want to wake you up so I just brought you to your room. I hope you have a good night's rest. I'll see you tomorrow.

;)

-Zach

I giggle and slip the note into my nightstand drawer. I head over to the living room in search of my phone only to find my window broken, glass blanketing the floor in front of it. I go over to inspect it closer only for the sound of rustling to come from my room. The residual sleepiness that I had previously felt now gone, I quickly kept searching for my phone.

Grabbing it from under the table, I head into the kitchen and search for a weapon. Where are the knives? A loud bang scares me from my search. A large figure emerges from the hallway, head turned to focus on me. Dressed in all black clothing, they pulled something from the duffel bag in their hands. Slowly, they approached me, gaze still transfixed on my frozen state.

"Don't worry Little One. It'll be quick." They say, stalking closer. I force myself to mirror their movements to get away from them. My eyes scan the kitchen and fix itself on the backdoor. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." A pistol is drawn from the duffel bag and is pointed directly at me. Slowly my hands rise above my head. "That's good. That's a good Little One." I continue to back away slowly. The figure's steps are getting faster. My heart is about to jump out of my chest.

Quickly, I turn around and try to break out through the door. The pistol fires at the door grazing the skin of my cheek. I hiss and duck down. The back door swings open, another figure, dressed in black, emerges. "The fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Bitch tried to escape!"

"Yeah well the bitch in front of me almost shot me!"

I take the opportunity to duck into the living room and try the front door. Busting it open, revealed a third person, their mask was pulled up over their nose, a cigarette between his lips. Slamming the door shut, I ran back to my room and locked the door behind me.

Pulling out my phone I try to open it. Shit. I search for my charger and plug it in. Searching for a flashlight, I look for a way out without running into any of the robbers. Bangs against the door cause me to open the window and jump out immediately. I ran towards Zach's ranch. Screaming for help, I continue to push myself forward.

"Come back here! The boss will kill us if you get away! Son of a-" My vision goes black as something hard and heavy bashes against my head.

--

When I wake back up again, I'm on the couch, Zach inspecting me with the first aid kit by his side. Looking around the room, I notice the TV missing along with some of my smaller furniture and decorations. I groan at the throbbing pain in my head. Zach runs his hand along my head trying to soothe me.

Once I was all patched up, he helped me to sit up and helped me lean against him. "Are ya alright, Doll?" He whispers. I shake my head. His brows furrow. "Well, ya will be now that I'm here." I snuggle into him, my head throbbing.

"Please don't leave." He nods.

"Don't worry Doll, I don't plan on it." He scoops me off the couch and brings me outside. "Lets go to my house yeah? I can keep a better eye on ya there." I nod.

He helps me into his truck and straps me in. The sound of the slamming doors makes my brain feel like it's going to leak out of my ears. Falling asleep next to him, I hope for a better day tomorrow.

--

When I wake up again, Zach is still driving only the sky is a bright blue. A forest surrounding us. I looked over to Zach, my headache now subsided. He glances at me with a smile and continues to drive down the road.

"Where are we?"

"I'm drivin' ya home."

"What do you mean? I don't remember having a forest anywhere on the way to the Ranch."

He chuckles, "Doll, that Ranch ain't safe. I'm drivin' ya to a better, much safer home."

"Zach, that's not funny. Just drive me back home." He shakes his head.

"I'm doing this fer ya Doll."

"Please pull over." He shakes his head. "Please pull over and let me out." I reach for the door handle and try to open it mid-drive. As I desperately try to open it, the click of a gun stopped me.

"I wouldn't think about it, Doll." With one hand on the wheel, the other managing a pistol, he keeps his eyes on the road. "Ya weren't safe at that fuckin' ranch. Even despite my little warnin', ya still got hurt." A voice-cracking chuckle escapes from him. "I can't stand to see ya get hurt. Ya were just layin' there. I told those fuckin' numb-nuts to lay their grimy hands off of ya'!" He slams the pistol down on the console between us. I flinch.

"W-What do you mean you 'told them'?" I look at him, tears welling up in my eyes. He chuckles again.

"I wanted to fuckin' scare ya out of that goddamn ranch of yer's and into mine. Thought ya'd come crawlin' to me. I'd save the day and we'd be livin' together after that."

"Are you crazy?!" I look at him with disbelief. 'This can't be happening. I must be dreaming.'

"No. I ain't." He sighs, the revolver making its way back up to the side of my head. "Besides, the fuckin' police found yer uncle's body. I thought I hid the body well."

"…What…?"

"Oh yeah," he laughs, "I forgot to tell ya. Yer uncle's dead." His laughs grow heavier, "I killed the bastard. Long story." I start to scream and bang against the windows. He rolls the windows down.

After a couple of minutes, my screams die down to a sob. Zach slows down and pulls up to a log cabin in the middle of the forest.

"Doll, I know that this is a bit of a change for ya." He unbuckles his seat belt and turns towards me. "But trust me. This will be good fer ya." He strokes my hair. Getting out of his truck, he circles around to my side and opens up my door.

"Don't worry Doll, I'll take real good care of ya."

[marypsue]

@amethystunarmed asked: 2) any bits you want of "look for something left in the world" (I could not narrow it down)

[from this meme]

look for something left in this world

The title of this fic comes from Billy Idol's 'White Wedding', which has always made me think of The Lost Boys. You may think this is because of Billy Idol being the blueprint for all the bleach-blond punk vampires (two) who would come after him, or because of the repeated 'little sister' in the lyric. And you would not be entirely wrong.

But you would also be missing the crucial piece that when I was seventeen-ish years old I watched the video for Lou Gramm's 'Lost in the Shadows', imprinted hard on the background dancer in the white dress, and then when I first encountered 'White Wedding' (through a karaoke video game where the music video played while you sang along and had to hit notes for points), drew not only the first two associations but also linked up the white wedding dress to the white dress from the 'Lost in the Shadows' video. I've never been able to hear 'White Wedding' without thinking about TLB since.

(I did also hunt down and obtain a full-length white tiered circle skirt because of those videos and also misremembering what Star's outfits looked like, a quest which took me most of a summer. Yes, I have always been Like This.)

Chapter One

One of my favourite things about writing inhuman characters is imagining what it must be like to experience the world from inside their physical reality. What it must feel like to be inside their skin. Also, thinking about what details to include in a description of a sensory experience, whichever sense that ends up being, is a really good way to flesh out a setting and also make sure that you're not relying on clichés or leaving your characters as talking heads in space. And also can help build atmosphere!

I wanted it to be a little unclear, at the beginning, whether Sam's at the comic book shop to see Edgar and Alan, or to kill them. The way I saw his stringing them along at the beginning was as him trying to test them out, to see how much they actually knew about vampires. See whether they'd actually be any help to him and his family. After all, telling the wrong people that you're a vampire can be hazardous to your health.

“Would you ftop fhat?”

I think it's hilarious when fangs give vampires a speech impediment, and does not happen nearly often enough.

“The fearless vampire killers,” he mutters, to their passed-out probably-parents, under his breath.

I still haven't seen The Fearless Vampire Killers, or: Pardon Me, But Your Teeth Are In My Neck, but it continues to have the best title of any vampire movie I've ever heard of.

... Sam’s gonna get grief for not having made his first kill yet and what does he get up to all day while everyone else is sleeping and how disappointed his mother is that he hasn’t tried to help make Max and his boys feel like part of their family.

I tried very hard to capture the sitcom energy of Max and Lucy and the way it's juxtaposed against the (can I call it Gothic? I think it's borderline Gothic) horror of the vampire plot. What if your boring, annoying stepdad was an evil master vampire but it didn't make him any less boring or annoying.

Like they’re the bloodsucking Brady Bunch or something. Cheaper By The – wait, no, no. Creepier By The Dozen. Married…With Hellhounds. Fang-ily Ties. All In The –

It was so much fun coming up with these puns and I would have kept going except that I ran out of good ideas.

Michael. With that stupid earring that doesn’t suit him glinting in the glittering lights. A feather and a couple beads in his hair, tucked behind his ear. Somebody’s painted something new on the sleeve of his no longer quite so dorkily pristine leather jacket, covering up the skid mark from the night he still won’t tell Sam where he and the boys had gone.

There's a lot going on in this bit and I am absolutely salivating to unpack it.

Firstly, I've talked at some length about the costuming in this movie and the heavy lifting it's doing for character and theme. The boys are unified, visually, by a DIY-punk magpie sensibility - they're all glittering with patches and pins and bits of mismatched jewellery and junk, even though each of their individual looks are quite distinctive. In contrast, Michael's canon looks are all quite simple and plain, with the earring serving as the main real visual link between him and the boys. I gave his costume a little redesign, a few embellishments, trying to imagine how he might pick up more of the boys' magpie style while developing his own distinctive look that builds naturally on what we already see him wearing, to signal visually that he's truly become part of their group now. And because it was fun and I like costume design.

Second, there's the way Mike's interacting - or not - with Sam. He's not just giving Sam the cold shoulder, he doesn't seem to be aware of Sam at all. In canon, the relationship between the two brothers ends up leading to defeating the vampires and salvaging Mike's humanity. Here, it's too late for that, and that relationship seems to be completely severed. The ultimate nail in that coffin (hah) seems to be the fact that Mike was responsible for Sam getting turned, an inversion on how in canon Sam was at least partially responsible for Mike getting turned back. Is that cause, or effect? Yes.

(And also, third, that relationship seems to be completely severed. But if you're paying close attention, there's also that bit about the night he still won’t tell Sam where he and the boys had gone. This could probably be read in a few ways, but the one I had in mind was that there were still things Mike wanted to protect Sam from or didn't want Sam knowing he'd done, that he still cares about what Sam thinks of him even if he doesn't care enough to actually not eat people about it. Which also then calls into question: does he actually not notice Sam at all, or is he deliberately not calling attention to Sam? Just how much of the brother Sam's been mourning is actually still left?)

I had a lot of fun with metaphorical language trickery with describing the beach and the ocean in this last scene. Star, the girl who caught Michael's eye on the boardwalk and lured him to the vampires, setting all of this off and ultimately getting Sam half-turned, is "marching [Sam] towards" the "flat, infinite darkness" of the ocean. Sam's "having trouble keeping his footing in the shifting sand, already starting to lean toward Star" as he argues his case that they should just give up and kill already, what's the point trying to resist.

But then, once Star pushes him into the water, shocking him out of his misery spiral, "[a]ll Sam has to do to get his head back above water is sit up". Star's "got her feet just in the edge of the surf where it laps relentlessly and eternally against the sand, eroding the shoreline away little by little". Sam "can keep sitting here, cold and wet, with the surf slapping into him over and over and over again, and keep on hating Star for getting them into this mess until the sun comes up" - he can keep hating and blaming Star, and let the darkness that keeps battering at him erode them both away little by little. Or he can make a small effort, which is not actually as hard as it feels in the moment, and save himself.

And Star goes to help Sam up out of the water that she pushed him into in the first place, "the glittering hem of her skirt dragging in the lapping water as she reaches out a hand to Sam." Star's responsible for Sam ending up in the water, and for Sam ending up half a vampire. But she's in the same position, and she's also trying to help him back out, even willing to risk her own humanity (and her own dry clothes) to do so.

And if they don't work together, they're both going to be lost. It's a metaphor, Hazel Grace. (Do the Kids These Days still get that joke. Better question, do I care.)

Sam tries to wring the water out of his heavy, sodden vest as they crunch back up the beach toward the boardwalk. When he tries to extract the soggy remains of Vampires Everywhere!, though, the pages come apart in clumps in his hands.

Which, then, makes this foreshadowing.

(Which is pretty damn impressive, given that, at the time I wrote this, I genuinely thought this first chapter was going to be a standalone oneshot. This may be a pattern.)

Star interrupts him by slinging an arm across his shoulders, the same motion Sam had seen David do to Michael earlier ...

Also, there's this little parallel. I'm not sure I can explain what I was going for here, or why I went back and added that second clause (because I did go back and add it after the sentence was written). She just needed to be in there.

And then I bookended it with describing the scents of the beach and the Boardwalk! Yeah that was on purpose. I don't remember if that was on purpose so it was totally on purpose.

Chapter Two

This is another great example of the precept that 'the story starts later than you think' and also 'you can just write the bits you're interested in writing'. There is so much leadup to the moment when this chapter starts and I had zero interest in writing any of it and so none of it's there. You all saw the movie. You read the first chapter. You knew where this was going. The fun part is the part where things start happening that you, the reader, don't expect, so that's where we're starting.

...I may have to try applying this precept in the middles of some other projects when I start getting bored and they start feeling like a slog. Especially original ones.

I love how deeply, deeply boring and normal Max is. I love his whole spiel in the movie about how Sam's just upset that someone's trying to replace his dad. I especially love applying that to contexts where it's absolutely inappropriate. Max is the only person in the world who would send his stepson to bed without dinner or ground him from the TV for the weekend because he didn't kill some random stranger and drink their blood, and it's fantastic. I love it when the horrors are uncomfortably normal. There is something about this juxtaposition that I cannot accurately explain, I just gotta write it and show you.

Sam meets Edgar’s eye, the one that isn’t pressed against the hardwood floor, wide and frightened under a flop of sweat-drenched hair, and does his best not to breathe.

Come with me, we're about to go on a bit of a journey.

In general, I think Takes that are like 'it's unrealistic that the Boys all got killed, they should have wiped the floor with the human characters!' are disingenuous and really more about the person writing them having a power fantasy of being unafraid and unashamed and also able to murder and eat anybody who tries to get in their way, and get away with it. Which I can't actually fault anybody for. But I do get annoyed when people don't seem to recognise that, and insist that they're just speaking from an objective standpoint and objectively the vampires should have won. It just feels mean-spirited to me, and I have reasons:

a) Even though there is a lot of very heavy symbolism and metaphor and coding taking place here, at the end of the day, the things that act as symbols are, as that one post about Dracula said, themselves first and symbols of other things second. And the Boys very much are vampires who kill and eat people pretty indiscriminately and will continue to do so. I'm not pressed about them getting made dead by people who do not want their friends and family (and even total strangers) to be food. There are arguments to be made about the whole X-Men 'oppressed class with superpowers allegory bad' thing, but in this case they're not even trying to argue that the vampires are oppressed. I think it is okay to kill vampires who are trying to kill you, no matter how many layers of metaphor and symbolism they are also operating on.

b) The movie's pretty good about establishing its own rules and then playing by them. 'why couldn't David hang onto Sam in the caves' listen, if you were dead asleep in your own warm little bed in your own cozy little house and then at 3am out of nowhere you were abruptly woken up from that dead sleep by your little brother screaming bloody murder right in your ear because he's being stabbed to death by some random fucking stranger you've never seen before in your life who just barged on into your house like he lives there and you have to take in this whole situation and react appropriately in a handful of seconds despite it being 3am and also you literally just woke up, and oh, also, by the way, if you go outside you're going to spontaneously combust? Would you be at your best?

'the Boys hunt in a pack why would they split up to get picked off one by one at the Emerson house' the Boys hunt in a pack, they're good at this, the humans only managed to take one of their number out when they were all together, they extremely efficiently split the humans up at the Emerson house and are clearly trying to pick them off one by one! It doesn't work, of course, but it's a reasonably intelligent strategy! Also the Boys are ambush predators as we see from every attack in the movie, and each of them starts their attack at the house by popping up out of an unexpected place! It's once they're in the open and engaging directly that things start going south! I don't feel my suspension of disbelief was ever broken by the vampires' competency level varying wildly for plot reasons.

c) I don't feel like it's any fun at all if you operate on the precept that there's simply no way for a 'weaker' opponent to ever win over a 'stronger' one. There are different kinds of strengths and different kinds of weaknesses, and the movie was pretty good about showing how the humans exploited the latter. And what a miserable little world it would be if people who aren't special or superhuman never even have a chance of succeeding - or even surviving.

And finally d) it's never going to be realistic, because vampires aren't real. (Well, human-shaped ones, anyway.)

Anyway. All this to say that, in general, it kind of annoys me when fics are like 'and then the vampires effortlessly demolished any and all resistance the humans put up'. But. Listen. It was important here.

“Let him go, David,” Max says, like he’s talking to Thorn.

There are a couple times throughout this chapter that I describe the way Max interacts with David as comparable to the way he interacts with Thorn. I hope this helps lend some credibility to the bit at the end of the chapter where David turns on Max. If all you've ever been to someone is an attack dog...

“You’re going to feed him his friends?” Mike’s voice, of all people, pipes up out of nowhere. 

It was a lot of fun trying to work out where the new lines would be for Full Vampire Michael Emerson, what it would take to make him take Sam's side. I always figured there'd be a version of his loyalty to and love for his brother still in him, but what form it would take and what he'd see as beyond the pale in terms of Max's behaviour toward Sam, when he doesn't see anything wrong anymore with being a vampire or eating people, was a fun knot to untangle.

He can’t actually tell whether Max is impressed or disappointed when he says, “Sam?”

A little of both, I figured - Max's whole Deal says to me, loudly, that he's the kind of man who'd be deeply disappointed in sons who didn't stand up for themselves and stand by their principles and show that they've got good, strong backbones - but also doesn't think that should mean they should stand up to him.

“David,” Max says, looking over Sam’s shoulder, and Sam braces himself to get his nose rubbed in Edgar’s bleeding body again, like a puppy who’s messed on the carpet. But Michael, behind Max, is staring over Sam’s shoulder, too. And instead of a leather-gloved grip on the back of his neck, Sam just hears a voice from behind him. David’s hateful sarcastic drawl. “No, I think I’d like to see him face these ‘consequences’, too. Max.”

The way I pictured the development of this chapter was that nobody was willing to openly rebel against Max (with good reason, the dog comparisons and 'grounding' weren't just for show) until Michael attacked him, nobody was willing to be the one to risk their neck openly defying him, but also? Nobody was willing to stick their neck out for him, either. And also that it kind of had to be one of the new kids on the block who made the first move, because they hadn't tried it and been harshly put in their place yet, and because David would cheerfully murder anyone who so much as suggested it but he would do things for Michael that he wouldn't do for anyone else, and Michael has that loyalty driving him to protect his family. Sam's the spark in the powder keg and him resisting here sets the whole thing off.

And the foot-long, sharpened piece of lumber jammed right through him that made the hole.

I think this is the second time I've non-fatally staked a vampiric main character for Plot and also Drama. Maybe the third. What can I say? It's just fun to impale (imaginary) people.

“Of course I’m not going to kill you, Sam,” Max says, like he’s hurt that Sam would even think it. “I did promise your mother.”

Yes that is actually the only reason why not.

“No, no – with an, a penetrating wound, it’s best to leave the object inside, so they don’t bleed out,” Sam’s mom babbles at Star, who nods her head once. “If the wounded person’s human, yes.”

I try not to say anything too dangerously misleading/suspension-of-disbelief-breaking in my fic. That said. I am not a medical professional. Also I hope none of you are taking medical advice from fanfiction.

Sam wonders, vaguely, where David and Dwayne went. Whether they’re up there somewhere, joining in the vampire fight, and if so, on whose side. Or if maybe they’ve just found a quiet spot out of the way to hole up and wait to see who comes out on top.

(Fun fact: it's that last thing.)

When he can think straight again, his mouth is full of somebody else’s blood.

I really hope I faked at least one of you out for a second thinking that Sam had actually bitten Edgar.

...the night Sam and his mom and even his dog were forced to drink vampire blood...

This is my theory of what a hellhound is in TLB-verse. Nobody correct me if any of the supplemental materials say otherwise.

Like, for example, the vampire who used to be Sam’s brother. Mike’s gripping the doorframe above his head with both hands. 

...

The thing clinging to that doorframe for his unlife isn’t Sam’s brother anymore. 

...

...Mike’s committing suicide by head vampire just because Max literally tore Sam a new one. And this is the worst possible timing for Sam to discover that there might be more of his brother left in the monster wearing Michael’s face than he’d realised.

We're watching in real time as Sam reconsiders everything he thought he knew about vampires (at least, vampire!Michael), and the way he refers to Michael in his head, the back-and-forth between calling him 'Mike' and 'that thing that looks like Michael but isn't' is supposed to draw attention to that.

“I think you could use some time to cool off. Have a good hard think about your choices,” he says. “Shall we say a week in the coffin?”

I was idly considering ways that you could effectively, non-lethally, physically discipline immortal vampires, and this struck me like a lightning bolt. I'm still particularly proud of it.

Between one blink and the next, Max’s face is back to his human mask, an expression of mild surprise crossing it. Sam will never make the mistake again of thinking this makes him any less dangerous. 

C:

Okay, so I also compare the way Max treats Mike and Sam to the way dogs get treated. That's just a running thread.

“I’m not gonna just leave Mike like this! He’s my brother!” Star’s quiet voice is grim. “Not any more.”

Sam's starting to see more of Michael left in the vampire, but Star isn't. She's been living with vampires longer, and probably has more experience of how human they can be towards the people they like - and then, how inhuman they can still be, at the same time. I'm not making an ultimate call on whether one or the other of them are right. But if Sam had listened to Star here, if they'd stayed on the same page and in each other's corners, it'd all have ended very differently.

“Lucy, darling,” he says, sounding disappointed, and turns to face – Sam’s mom, standing behind him, breathing hard, tears glistening on her cheeks along with the weirdly glittery blood that had clearly sprayed her when the stake went in. “And here I thought you really knew the way to a man’s heart.” Sam’s mom just stares back, her jaw set, her eyes ferocious. “It’s a little more to the left,” Max says, giving the stake in his hand a toss before raising it –

I think Lucy Emerson deserves the chance to stab Max, at least once. Is it in-character? Well, I think the reveal in the next chapter justifies it in this case. Also I thought of this stupid joke and was so pleased with myself that I absolutely had to put it in.

His heart is hammering, Sam realises, with a terrifying lurch of hope. Not crawling. Not sluggishly pulsing along like it’d rather he just gave up so it could quit. He can feel the blood rushing into his face when he tries and fails to cough up the dust that’s coating the inside of his lungs with every breath. Can hear his own heartbeat thudding in his eardrums.

I love imagining and then describing sensory experiences that no one is ever going to have. Turning human again after having been partially a vampire for long enough to start to get used to it deserved a little loving dwelling-upon.

When Mike glances over toward Star, she breaks her stillness and his gaze, turning and hurrying up the staircase.

[Katy Perry voice] In another life/I would be your girl...

“Everybody alive in here?” Grandpa calls out, scanning the living room. Mike snorts a half-laugh as he heaves a fencepost off their mom’s legs.

:3 :3 :3

I can never remember if the line is "I never could stand" or "I never could stomach". (Spoiler alert: it's the second one.)

Chapter Three

I had this one planned from about halfway through Chapter Two. I considered going back and sprinkling more foreshadowing for what would be the big twist in Chapter Three, and then I decided against it because I thought it would pull focus from the important bit of Chapter Two, which was Sam's idea of His Family versus Vampires getting troubled and those lines blurring, and also I didn't know where or how to put it in.

Their cover story does mean the Frogs end up having to take a full course of rabies vaccine. Which uses some big, big needles. Sam’s not entirely sure what the tiny twist of smile that flickers across his mom’s face when she finds out is all about. And she doesn’t tell him.

Rabies vaccine isn't fun, but then, neither is getting impaled by a comic book geek with a Rambo headband and a bad attitude. Somebody could've really gotten hurt.

Thankfully he doesn’t still have a huge, gaping hole punched right through his middle, but it definitely didn’t heal enough while he still had supernaturally fast healing for him to just pretend like nothing happened.

I'll be honest, I was just going to heal Sam up like nothing happened, and pretend it was fine because he was still half-vampire when it happened. But then somebody in the comments mentioned being excited to see how it would affect him, and I remembered how much I appreciate it when a serious injury lingers to affect a character throughout the narrative, and went for it.

Also, there's not enough love in fiction for people who have fucked-up lower guts and the associated agonies thereof. And sometimes misery just loves company.

...Nanook, who Sam’s hoping is as back to ordinary now as he is...

Look. I know I never specify in this fic. But dogs have a lot fewer qualms about killing things than humans. Nanook is definitely hellhounded for unlife. Sorry, Sam. At least now your dog's immortal?

Something about the way Mike looks at the curtain leading back toward the waiting room makes Sam add, “Mike? Don’t eat our grandpa. Mom’ll kill you.” “Wasn’t gonna,” Mike says, but just a little too lightly. “Liar.”

This whole passage - and especially this quoted bit - just worked. I could see and hear this bit as though it were the actors doing it on film so clearly in my mind's eye. I'm particularly proud of it.

The idea of Head Vampire Lucy Emerson lives in my mind rent-free. I love it so much. Especially the idea of her as this mild-mannered, sweet, friendly lady, willing to extend a helping hand, a few dollars or a hot meal or a room for the night, to anyone who needs it - and when somebody drifts into Santa Carla, lured by the warm nights, transient population, and the rumours that it's run by two little old ladies, and starts making trouble, here she turns up to give them a Very Disapproving Look and a Good Talking-To - with five grinning teenage toughs stepping out of the shadows at her back.

Lucy abhors violence. She's grateful to have plenty of people who're more than happy to do it for her.

Anyway. Tangent.

Sam can’t quite tell what his grandpa’s thinking, whether that hard stare is supposed to be a warning – or an encouragement. “That’s what you’d do if you wanted everything with fangs to know you plan on taking his place.”

Grandpa knows how to play vampire politics. He's been doing it for years.

Okay, so the rest of his family are vampires. But they’re still his family. 

This is very much not the tune Sam was singing at the beginning of this fic, and very much the central problem of this fic. It feels like a happy ending! It's an extraordinarily sinister and melancholy one! It's awful and I love it. Am I making sense anymore? Oh, who cares.

She gathers Laddie up in one last long big hug, before they leave. And doesn’t turn back when he calls after her, sounding lost.

I understand why people tend to write Laddie out of post-canon fic. I also am going to deliberately make use of this expectation. Eventually. Someday.

Lucy Emerson, Head Vampire is just such a compelling concept to me, and the idea of her actually trying to mom the Boys is an endless font of potential hilarity. One of these days I'm going to cave and write some Bloodsucking Brady Bunch slice-of-life indulgence. Just as soon as I figure out a scaffolding of scenes to hang it on.

Star volunteers to haul loads of garbage to the dump, apparently just to avoid the vampires. David volunteers to go with her, apparently just to see her squirm.

This is 100% a big part of why Star left Santa Carla.

"... Grandpa’s an old man. He’s not going to live forever.”

I do hope everybody kept this exchange in mind post-timeskip, when Sam and the Frogs are talking about how a sudden death with no cause given in Santa Carla means vampire attack.

“Do you have family waiting for you?” Sam’s mom asks, and Star’s face twists. “Somewhere.” She doesn’t elaborate. And she doesn’t actually say she’s going back to them. But Sam’s mom still stops trying to persuade her to stay.

Not sure how clear it is that I've tried to shift Lucy' overriding motivation, in absence of human morality, to family, and that she considers Star a part of hers. She's letting Star go here because she thinks Star is going back to a mother who misses her. There's a reason that, after the timeskip, Sam's reluctant to tell his mom and Michael that he knows approximately where Star is and that she'll likely be visiting him soon.

“Sam…listen. Just because someone’s family, doesn’t mean they’re good. Or good for you. Even if they love you. Sometimes especially if they love you.”

I love that the movie never tells you anything about where the vampire characters come from, what their history is, what their stories are. I love that it leaves that all so open-ended. I love that it lets you draw your own conclusions. I don't want to know too much about Star (or Laddie, or David, or Dwayne, or Paul, or Marko, or Max...) and I don't want to tell you too much that'll close off possibilities for them, either.

But also. I'm always most interested in families that are complicated and manage to fuck you up completely without malice, with genuine love, and with the best of intentions.

...she looks every bit as strangely young-old as she did that night on the beach when she pushed Sam into the surf. 

Calling back to Star trying to save Sam from what he wants while she's warning him about his mom and brother? Hmm, I wonder what that could possibly be about.

Mike’s jeans are blown out at the knees. He’s added a threadbare flannel under the leather jacket, which is now sporting an elaborate painting of the Arizona desert taking up the entire centre back panel. His hair curls just an inch or two longer under his jaw. But otherwise, he hasn’t changed.

cough cough

Also, as mentioned above: the embellishments signify that Michael's actually one of the Boys now. Increasing the number and elaborateness of his embellishments post-timeskip was very much on purpose.

The morbid thought crosses Sam’s mind to wonder whether it’s what they would have buried Michael in, if he’d ever gotten a funeral.

Sam's having real trouble reconciling 'everybody in my family is vampires which means they're still around and okay and we won and we got a happy ending' and 'everybody in my family is vampires which means we lost and I lost them'.

I love that we have collectively decided, to the point of it becoming secondary canon (from what I've heard, twice?) that the Widow Johnson is a vampire. I just think that this should not preclude her from also being an eccentric old lady. (Her first name here is an anagram of 'Carmilla', a rather weak alias that I believe the titular vampire uses in le Fanu's novel. I still haven't read it. I really need to.)

Sam’s mom looks at him like he’s just asked her why it’s okay to throw used paper towels in the garbage, but not priceless jewels. “My boys don’t live in Luna Bay or Sunnydale or Woodsboro.”

A little more evidence for 'Lucy's primary motivation in the absence of human morality is family', a little more conflict for Sam, and also, I had fun namedropping fictional California cities of horror.

“There’s no age where you become magically immune to vampire attacks,” Edgar says.

I love writing dialogue for the Frog brothers.

“There are at least four bloodsuckers in that room there right now,” Edgar says, flatly, as an answer.

I haven't decided who the fourth vampire at the post-funeral reception is (or if Edgar and Alan are just wrong, which also happens frequently). I'd love to hear any theories or ideas if you've got them, though.

Also, I do think it makes a lot of sense if it was somehow Grandpa who clued the Frogs in about the undead underworld in Santa Carla. But mostly that's here because I realised I hadn't explained at all how Grandpa would have known to show up at exactly the right moment with a truckful of stakes.

“Yeah. We did. And he told us it was his last wish to be staked before he got tucked in for his dirt nap. Didn’t want to wake back up with a set of fang dentures.”

I love writing dialogue for the Frog brothers.

I had a lot of fun combining hippie chic with 90s Laura Ashley country-home trends for Lucy's extreme home makeover. Was I just basing this off of what I remember from a very fashionable friend's parents' house from my youth? Mmmmmaybe. Also, I think if she did get fully vampired, she might get over killing people, but Lucy would still seriously miss the sun.

“I’m nearly finished with school,” Sam reminds them both. The weight of the liquid in the glass he’s holding shifts unpredictably in his grasp. He doesn’t look at it. “One more semester.”

I loooooooove writing scenes where there's an unspoken thing that nobody is going to acknowledge, including the narration. And in this case, I didn't want it to be clear whether that unspoken thing was Sam's fears about what his mom and his brother might be capable of, or whether that unspoken thing was what they all knew was in Sam's wineglass.

Sam also definitely keeps reminding them of how little time he's got left in school in place of reminding them that he doesn't want to be a vampire, even though he's deliberately trying not to sound like he's accusing them of something he doesn't want to believe they're capable of. And even if he does understand that trying to tell his mom he wants to let himself get old and die as a human is never going to go over well, for him to say 'not yet, wait a little longer' and for her to respect that means that she still cares about him more than what she wants, which in turn means that she's still somebody he can recognise as his mother. Same way as Mike attacking Max for Sam proved that he still cared. This is a test for Lucy as much as it is a leap of faith for Sam, and if she doesn't pass it, he might just find himself capable of what it takes to become human again.

“You’re the one who literally had a boyfriend last year.” “Yeah, and that was way less weird than whatever’s going on between you two.”

Listen, I just think that you cannot meaningfully collapse the tension between Michael and David down into a conventional, exclusively-monogamous romantic relationship, and that you lose something important and interesting if you try. Not least because there are three other guys and a girl involved in their whole situationship.

I've talked about this in a couple of comments, and I think I finally figured out how to put it into words without having to tell a whole story to do so: the ultimate question of this story is whether Sam can trust his family, or himself. He can't have both.

In the end, Sam chooses his family, which I think he would have done from the moment he opened the window for Michael in canon. I didn't want to make an ultimate call on whether that was the 'right' choice. And I also didn't want to have to make a final call on whether Lucy would pass the test and prove she was still enough the mother Sam loved and trusted. So this story ends where it does, with a lot of questions and possibilities up in the air.

Just like the movie. :D

[britishcupoftea]

Summer at the lighthouse part 1

this is the first time posting some of my stories in here so 💀🙏 pray for me y’all. It’s a bit of a long one so I’ll do 3 parts cause that’s all I got up to before I gave up lol. Help why did I write so much. Sorry it’s it’s cringe😭🙏😭🙏 Enjoy

CHAPTER 1- DAMN SEAGULLS

Should have taken swimming lessons I thought, as I looked out at the vast open sea that stretched its sparkling blue fingers all the way across the horizon. It was only 3 months right, I thought. It’s not like i have to stay here forever. It was so stupid coming to stay here, my dad had sent me here for the summer as he often was called out during these months for army protocols, but this year was a bit of a stretch. I barely knew the parents I was staying with however my dad said he new them well and it wouldn’t take long for me to settle in. James and Maddie, those were their names weren’t they, they were both middle aged and sea worn yet they seemed quite friendly. I couldn’t say the same about Leah I thought: she was their daughter, fair haired, blue eyes, perfectly simetical face. Leah had a younger sister called Darcy too. I lost my trail of thought as far above me I heard the screaming of a seagull as it circled the top of the lighthouse. It looked down at me distastefully.

As I finally began to lose my self in daydreams again, splat! Something landed on my shoulder and dribbled down my shirt. “Well shit,” I groaned looking down on the stain. Even the seagulls didn’t  want me here, before I got shit on again, I started to make my way towards the iron door of the lighthouse. It took some effort to open it but when I did, a blast of warm air greeted me and I stumbled inside, slamming the door behind me. Inside wasn’t much better then the outside of the lighthouse, pail green wallpaper hung on the walls, a sofa was shoved into the corner and everything else was randomly positioned around the room. However I didn’t pay much attention to it as I pulled my trainers off and threw them onto the door mat. After running up the stairs into the kitchen, I pulled of my shirt and put it in the washing machine, i mushed the buttons on the panel and left to go to my room. I stopped on the 5th floor, my room, and stood, taking in the tiny room I was supposed to live in for 6 months. I had brought my bags in earlier and mostly unpacked. No one was home but being shirtless made me uncomfortable, so I found a large shirt to wear till my top was out the wash.

Sighing, I looked curiously up the stairs towards Leah’s room; her family were out and I had seen every other room… it’s not like it would hurt anyone too look, would it? Carefully, I crept up the stairs and entered Leah’s room. Huge bookshelves lined the walls, a warm  grey carpet lined the floor, a desk which was piled with books was squashed next to a single bed, a couple of bean bags were strewn about with heaps of other junk. Huh pretty typical for a 16 year old. Sweeping the room again, I noticed the girl sat, on the bed facing the window. “Uhh hey” I said, straightening up and trying to look impressive. “Wha-“ the girl yelled and her golden hair whipped round as a hand flared out for a book that was balanced on the desk. Her fingers grasped the book and hurtled it across the room towards me. SMACK! It hit me right in the my stomach, the speed had thrust the air out of me yet i managed to stand my ground and not fall over. For a moment her eyes caught mine, those clear crystal blue eyes, their beauty made me giddy and my thoughts unclear. Damn it George! Snap out of it! “Thanks,”That was probably the stupidest and least charming  thing I could have said in the moment. “George Saveltion, nice to meet you.” I was so shocked and utterly wordless, it took all my effort to choke the words out and keep my voice steady.

Then I ripped my gaze from hers and bent down to pick up the book, as I grabbed it from the floor, I read the title, ‘the man who hunted gods’. “Oh! I err sorry didn’t know who you were for a minute there, we don’t normally have random people in the lighthouse a mile from shore,” muttered the girl in a sarcastic tone, looking away from me again, “Leah Evehouan as you probably already know, if u have any problems just come and ask.” Then she twisted her body away from me and hunched back over a pile of open study books. God it felt so embarrassing standing here in a strangers house, a couple feet away from the prettiest girl I had ever seen and holding a book, with no idea what to do now. “Err so where,” I paused, mustering the courage to speak to Leah again. “Where do I put this book?” Leah then turned back towards me which made my heart beat faster against my ribs , her golden hair flashed in the sunlight and a small smile spread across her lips. She was so immensely gorgeous that her mere presence intoxicated me, as though I was drunk on it.

“Give the book to me, George.” I watched her lips as she said the words and as she said my name, I met her gaze. Great job George real good first impression, I thought. She probably thinks you’re some creep acting all weird round her. Trying my best not to seem as awkward as I felt, I walked over to her and placed the book into her hands. Our finger tips brushed against one another and the sudden urge to take her hands in mine was overpowering. For a second it was like that, my hands in hers, holding the book and then it was over. I left Leah’s room without dying of embarrassment, which was a good sign. The afternoon was slow. So slow in fact, I almost worked up the guts to speak to Leah again but the reality of her actually wanting to speak to me killed that hope.

Most of the time I sat on my bed and played some old video games. At about two, a swarm of seagulls were circling the lighthouse and giving me a splitting headache so doing what any normal person would do, I opened my window and started throwing stones at them. I also thought about shouting at them but I didn’t want to leave a bad impression on Leah, so I just threw stones at them. I hit a couple and I’m pretty sure they looked at me with the ‘your dead meat’ face. After that I must have fell asleep because next thing I know is that I hear yelling in the background and a lot of stomping feet. Wha.. it took me a couple of seconds to figure out what was going on, I heard the shouting more clearly now “LEAH, GEORGE COME DOWN!” It sounded like a male voice so I assume James was calling us. Slowly getting up, I readjusted my two-sizes-big shirt and started making my way down the stairs. The night was mostly a blur as we ate dinner and all started to head to bed. Using the only bathroom in the house, I showered and got ready to at least try and sleep. When the lights went out, all I could hear was the damn seagulls shrieking at the tops of their stupid bird lungs. Sleep came for me as soon as I lay my head down on the pillow. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be for my first night, I woke a couple times to the sound of those godforsaken seagulls and lay awake to them and the sounds of the sea. Around five am, I awoke for the third time tonight and decided to do downstairs to see if the fire was still on. Maybe the little red flames would chase away whatever kept me from sleep? Propping myself up on my elbows, I scanned the room to try and find anything out of place before I got out of bed. Small shards of moonlight filtered through the blinds of the windows either side of the room, they danced across the floor and made sliver patterns on the bookshelf. Nothing was amiss. Shrugging, I climbed out of bed and the cold air shocked my skin: I was only wearing boxers on this chilly night but I shrugged of the cold and decided I needed a book. I grabbed my dressing gown from the floor and pulled it on, making my way to the bookshelf, I scanned for any interesting books… Maybe it had one of the books Leah had read on it, maybe I would like it. Leah?? Why was I thinking of Leah? So stupid I thought to my self, yet I felt strangely compelled to make my self interesting for her, like I wanted to fit in. The feeling was strange and I stood for a minute trying to understand it. For a second I faltered… what if.. what if… no it wasn’t a what if, I had caught feelings for her. Ha my logical brain mocked me, I had know her for a day of course I couldn’t have caught  feeling for her could I? This is stupid, but it was the first time I had actually started to like someone so I didn’t really know what I was supposed to do. Stupid I repeated in my head. And somehow I still found my self creeping up the stairs towards Leah’s room, searching for the book she had thrown at me. So stupid I repeated, this will never happen again I mumbled to myself, yet I still let my mind lead me on towards the top of the stairs.  

I couldn’t see much in Leah’s room so I couldn’t make out her shape in the bed, so ever so carefully, I made my way across the room to her desk and scanned for the book I wanted. There! Right on top of a huge pile, lay the book, ‘the man who hunted gods ’. Summing all my will not to make my hands shake and tumble to pile of books, I reached for the book and slowly lifted it off the pile. I left out a sigh of relief. Still moving as carefully as I could, I tiptoed back over to the stairs and started to make my way down it. I felt so oddly accomplishes, so giddy with joy for no apparent reason. With each step i leaped further down the stairs so I was nearly running down the stairs. Oh my god what was I doing?? I was only 16, yet my emotions swept me along and I raced down each step.

I was flying so fast through the darkness that didn't notice the hunched over figure at bottom off the stairs, their back bathed in moonlight, their golden hair falling over their shoulders, their look of wide eyed horror as I came pelting down the stairs towards them. I noticed too late… Leah… SHIT! The force in with we collided was so intense that it almost sent me flying backwards but the momentum pushed us both down at least 7 steps onto the living room floor. To be honest I thought the concrete floor would hurt so bad when I fell but it actually didn’t, it felt kind of soft like a… pillow? Oh god, double shit! I think I landed on Leah. Then from below me I heard a muffled ow and “get off me you jerk” or something like that. So I pushed my self up into a sort of sitting/kneeling position.

And then I noticed it.

If it wasn’t dark in the room, Leah would have seen me turn into a tomato, u see Leah had fallen backwards onto her back and I had fallen forwards, my legs spread apart from sprinting down the stairs. You can already see where this was going. So I had landed on top of Leah, her legs in between mine… I swear I must be glowing red by now. And just a moment ago, I was lying just like that but I was also lying on her chest and right next to her face. Leah groaned and said “get off me you jerk” then added “completely off me”. Stumbling, I got up, my legs a bit scratched from the landing and retrieved my, well Leah’s book from where it had fallen. Then before I could ask why she was sitting on the stairs at five in the morning, she got up, turned to me and demanded “What the hell were you running because down the stairs for? You looked like you had seen a ghost or something!”

My brain had stopped functioning properly and I stood there, like a idiot, and didn’t say anything. I was too distracted by her beauty. Wow this girl was pretty, her blue eyes looked like the marbling of the ocean when a breeze brushes across it, her skin looked like a golden honey brown. I hadn’t seen before but Leah was wearing short black pyjamas shorts and a cropped white shirt, with black stripes sewn down the seems. Snap out of it George! She is 16, stop being insain.Before I could say anything else, I heard some footsteps from upstairs and a couple seconds later, Darcy was jogging down the stairs towards us. Unlike Leah, Darcy had dark brown hair, almost black and had hazel eyes. They looked so different, like contrasting colours but you could tell my the shape of their faces, the different angles and points that they were related, that they were sisters. Darcy was 13 and wore a strapped silk top, probably died blue or purple or another pretty colour girls liked, the silk trousers were obviously matching and she had her hair up in a wild bun. She skipped down the steps and stop and the last one. “Is everything alright? I heard a crash.” She was looking at Leah not me, and then Leah answered “Yeah everything is alright but, Mr Clumsy over here ran down the stairs and almost squashed me, now go back to bed.” Darcy looked over to me, eyed me up and down, and then her eyes fell on my bare chest as my dressing gown had come undone and  and I remembered the fact that I was basically naked next to two girls that I barely knew. “He’s got abs too” said Darcy, a dreaming tone in her voice. Leah sniggered and motioned for Darcy to go upstairs.

After the incident on the stairs, Leah had lead me back upstairs, made me sit on my bed and started interrogating me. “So why were you coming down stairs then huh?” She snorted, spinning around on the chair next to my desk. “I couldn’t sleep so I was going to read and I was running because,” I was only going to tell a half lie see I am terrified of the dark but then again that’s not why I was running, “I was scared of the dark and I thought the fire would still be one so… I ran downstairs.” Leah kept spinning on the chair, seeming oblivious to the fact that I was the biggest coward she would ever meet in her life, scared of the dark? Ha yea I am such a coward. “And why were you carrying my book?” They question caught me off guard and she stop spinning and with perfect ease, walked a straight line across the room and slid into the bed next to me. I couldn’t speak, this was the closest a girl had ever got to me, a lump formed in my throat I was afraid I was breathing to hard and it would scare her off.Leah’s hands found their way to mine and she carefully untwisted my fingers from around the book. Her touch made me tingle yet the sensation was extraordinary and then she lent her head against my shoulder, waiting for my response. It took me a minute to answer but I finally said “you told me it was a good book so I guessed I should try and read it” not a total lie at least. My cheeks felt hot and pink, the embarrassment was almost sickening. We sat, wrapped in my duvet for a while, neither of us speaking and neither of us moving until eventually my eyelids grew heaving and I lay down on the pillow. Leah, to my surprise and my enjoyment, lay down with me although she lay as far away from me as possible. I can’t remember how long we lay like this but right before I drifted off to sleep, I heard Leah slip out of bed and walk to the edge of the room and then she whispered “Goodnight pretty boy,” and disappeared upstairs. So far this has been the best night of my life.

y’all help why is so long 😭🙏😭🙏 part 2 is already written so I’ll post that soon so is part 3 😴 maybe if ppl like it I’ll write a part 4. FYI I don’t even know when I wrote this don’t judge 💀

[x-authorship-x]

Since you have been busy flooding my feed with Shisui(absolutely not complaining, this is great) I figure this is a great time to ask if you're at all familiar with DC(batfam specifically because I've fallen down a rabbit hole) and if you've got thoughts on best Shisui ships from here since I've seen your other shisui crossover ship thoughts

Hi Flux!

So quick disclaimer that most of my knowledge is from mutuals/friends reblogging onto my feed 😅 but shisui ships with the batfam?

Bruce x Shisui:

Honestly I struggle to ship Bruce with anyone? He's such a dad to me like I just see platonic when I look at the poor guy... although I have mutuals who love to scatter Batman/Superman on my feed from time to time... But Bruce and Shisui? Hm their personas and morals of hunting criminals 'from the shadows' would be a cool thing to look into, especially Shisui's sunshine versus Shinobi mentality alongside Batman versus Bruce Wayne™, but - as with all these ships - there is the issue of Shisui's killings (because either you say hey shisui just compartmentalised it so a hit was a hit, which still doesn't translate well, or you say Shisui is so relieved not to have to murder any more, which still has a gaping plotpoint in it that he was raised by killers to be a weapon and that's a LOT of angst to unpack in any direction)

Dick x Shisui:

Solid ship, they both kinda are the ideal older brothers of a complicated family dynamic that is steeped in violence, ethical dilemmas, and intense loyalty. I think they'd really match each other stride for stride and understand each other's darkness and capacity for brutality whilst supporting and appreciating what good humor they've held onto? Also I feel like Dick's background with the circus is a really cool counterpart to Shisui's just as unconventional but much more sinister upbringing 👀

Jason x Shisui:

Ahhhh the family angst, everything is on fire, the identity angst, being dead to the old life and having to build up the shattered pieces into something new... also I like that Jason has a temper, I think shisui could both watch his back on that AND could use someone getting angry for him for once. Shisui's loyalty, razor sharp attention, adaptability and stubbornness would suit Jason's own moral code and street smarts... And shisui would really need the stubbornness to play the long game to get into Jason's inner circle lol

Tim x Shisui:

I feel like this ship would be really cute in the sense that Tim is more anxious than the previous two and maybe Shisui's own hyper competence would boost his morale like yes let's try so hard to do good together (or maybe shisui would make him feel that kinda imposter syndrome as Robin more 🤡 different ship direction but still delicious potential). IDK enough about the details, just vibing here, but I think shisui is the right kind of scarily skilled yet sweetheart to steady Tim and they'd be real cool investigating crime scenes together... Plus Tim is well read, right? I feel like they'd talk circles around each other just as much as a physical spar... However I do like Tim's canon bf??? (Also if you ship Shisui with Dick, for example, then Tim gets role models 😫) But if you insist, as I always say... Poly fixes everything!

Duke x Shisui:

Okay but can we admit that Duke being a metahuman and Shisui being... well, Shisui, is a really cool match up? Like not even getting into the amazing combos of abilities or the sweetness of training together, power reveals and the ensuing trust/insecurity/angst/growing companionship... But also like??? Duke is the resident meta, that's gotta impact his self image and the standards he holds himself to, and Shisui would just be such a vibe thrown into that??? And despite all this I've seen Duke described as "sunshine" who gets on with most people??? Am I the only person thinking ANGSTY BUT POSITIVE POWER COUPLE? quite literally!

Hope this made any kind of sense but I am the furthest thing from an expert on these guys 😅😅😅✨

[wen-kexing-apologist]

10 Characters and 10 Fandoms

I was hoping this day would not come. I had hoped I would fly free and clear from having to choose between all the people trapped in my television. But alas...I can avoid it no longer...thanks @lurkingshan

Cause here is the thing, when I think of what drives me batshit, crawling up the wall, tearing at the curtains it is not the characters but the dynamics that I love and cherish.

Rules: name 10 of your favourite characters from 10 different fandoms, then tag 10 people to do the same.

So I guess, without further ado, and in no particular order, here are 10 of my faves and why

Wen Kexing - Word of Honor

I mean...this one seems pretty obvious (coughs in username) but this is my dumb slut, okay? He's beauty, he's grace, he's got Zhou Zishu Derangement Syndrome harder than anyone.

Wen Kexing, how do I love you? Let me count the ways:

Unhinged

Fashion Icon

Crazy Bastard Man

Yi Baiyi's Number One Nuisance

Gay As Hell

And most importantly HE HAS NEVER DONE ANYTHING WRONG IN HIS LIFE.

Not Once. Not Ever.

Akk - The Eclipse

Oh Akk, my favorite little war criminal. If I had to pick one single favorite character, it's my boy.

Can't put my finger on why but for some reason I am obsessed with this emotionally repressed gay boy who has difficulty accepting himself and feels pressured to perform actions far outside what a teenager should be allowed to do because adults put pressure on him and because he doesn't want people to be disappointed in him...

Unlike Wen Kexing, Akk has done many things wrong, but he's my sweet cheese, good time boy, and he deserves to be harassed by his rat bastard boyfriend at all times. He's learned, he's grown, he's free of Suppalo and I want nothing but the best for him forever and alwas.

Jim Jimenez - Our Flag Means Death

Ohhhhh Jim. The Swagger, The Sex Appeal, The Being The Only Competent Member of Stede's Crew. I mean, what is not to love about The Orphan Raised By Nun Grandmother To Be a Killer?

As a fellow Studier Of The Blade, I would welcome the chance to let Jim kill me. Besides the fact they would lay waste to many, as an enby, they automatically earn a spot in my favs list.

Guillermo de la Cruz - What We Do In The Shadows

Tumblr Users, name a sexier character that Guillermo de la Cruz. That's right! YOU CAN'T!

Gay, serial killer...mmm you know what I'm beginning to sense a trend in my favs list...

eh, we can unpack that later!

My lovely, bumbling, dumbass with posession of the only brain cell in the household. So bright and smiley in the beginning you almost forget that he is 10 years in to literally hunting people to feed to his best friends/mortal enemies/family/tormenters/employers/bumbling idiots that stole him away from Panera Bread. There is no greater personification of the Duality of Man than the man who can lay waste to an entire theatre full of vampires and also spending literal hours closing every possible loophole in Nandor's Dick Length Wish. No greater personification of the Duality of Man than the man who can best Nandor in a gay little fight, and then immediately get pushed into a coffin and shipped to England.

Keyleth - Critical Role

My beloved, all powerful awkward disaster of a Druid. Keyleth helped me through some difficult fucking parts of my life, and I really appreciate how heavily Marisha allowed Keyleth to embrace and exert her anger where it needed to be released. I love how Keyleth can both bring a building down with her bare hands (literally) and turn into a goldfish and splatter along the rocks (also literally)

I love when character who are hurt or in pain or grieving continue to be kind, and I love when that composure starts to slip.

Ellie Williams - The Last of Us

I love my baby dyke with all my heart. She's a killer, she's a track star, she makes grown men weep and young kids laugh. She's immune from being mushroomified, and she horrifies Joel's Southern Table Manner Sensibilities. What more can you ask for out of a character?

Tankhun Theerapanyakul- KinnPorsche

Serves cunt.

Kaz Brekkar - Six of Crows

Kaz Brekkar is the walking contradiction, and that is why I love him.

Kaz, External Monologue: murder. murder. crime. crime. heist. heist. fuck pekka.

Kaz, Internal Monologue: Inej. Inej. Inej. Inej. Inej. Inej. Inej.

There is just something so juicy about a character who yearns desperately to touch, to hold, to love and is physically incapable of doing so. Also like, shout out to having disabled characters in media of all forms

Raine Whispers - Owl House

Again, enby, therefore automatically on the fucking list. But also like. COME ON. Look at them. They are so precious, they are so awkward, and they are so badass. This motherfucker can't talk on a stage to save their life, but can lead a goddamn rebel organization?

ALSO LIKE, LET'S DISCUSS THE FUCKING WHISTLE AND THE MONTHS OF FAKING MIND CONTROL?!?!?!??!?! Y'all seriously want to sit here and not claim them as a fav? Okay, but couldn't be me :)

Zuko - Avatar: The Last Airbender

It's Zuko. Need I say more? I will never not love Zuko because I lived through his redemption arc live on my TV. I went from hating this motherfucker's guts to truly deeply loving him in real time and that's all I have to say on that. He's a runner, he's a track star, he's a war criminal, and a baby girl, and truly is the king of kings for doing one nice thing and nearly dying from fever about it.

Well, this has made me realize that most of my favs are gay murderers. Teehee. Please never make me choose my favorite characters again.

If someone tags me in one of these, ask me to do my Top 10 Character Dynamics, please I beg you!!!!1

Tagging:

@bengiyo , @shortpplfedup , @kyr-kun-chan , @moonspiritmars

[a-dirty-secret]

Johnny's Girl - Part 15

tw: dub/non-con, hematolagnia, dacryphilia, blood, violence, stalking, rough sex

As time passed you grew more content with your situation, and the family became more used to you. Nubbins liked to show you pictures he took of flowers, dead animals, victims, and other various things. You actually found him to be quite endearing. Sissy grew to love you quickly. You enjoyed spending time with her listening to music, tending the garden and taking care of the house.

At first Drayton glared at you every chance he got, to the point Johnny threatened to knock his eyeballs out. As time passed however he became satisfied with how clean you kept the house. He still ignored you, but the dirty looks stopped. Bubba was shy, often hurrying away when he saw you, but you remained friendly. It wasn't until he brought you a flower one day that you realized he was warming up to you, even killers can have cute little quirks.

Johnny's mom still wasn't back. You'd found out that she prefers to help the family from a distance a lot of the time, mostly because of her distaste for Sissy and Drayton. You and Johnny grew closer, and you were surprised to find that he was quite sweet. You were always the highlight of each other's day, and Johnny grew irritable if he didn't get enough attention from you.

Despite your growing contentedness, part of you started to feel uneasy. The family was giving you more freedom. You knew that you could eventually escape, but did you want to leave Johnny? You began questioning your feelings and your sanity. You'd heard of victims becoming attached to their captors, but you had feelings for Johnny before you were a victim.

Did you really love Johnny, or were you just sick in the head? If you were happy, did it matter? Were you really happy? What kind of sane person would be happy in this situation? The thoughts made your head spin so you tried to push them aside, but it was growing more difficult as time passed.

You're jerked out of your thoughts when you hear a loud, high pitched scream from outside. You stop doing the dishes and listen as the screams get closer to the house. The door slams open and you hear Johnny's voice. "Hey, somebody go outside and take care of that dead boy!" A woman sobs at his words, and you hear Johnny laugh. "C'mon darlin', let's get you to the basement."

Your face grows hot at his words and anger starts to fill you. You continue doing the dishes, hoping he'd bring her down to the basement then quickly return upstairs. He was always horny after a hunt, and he never hesitated to get you alone after it was over. Ten minutes pass and your hands are shaking with anger. Without thinking you grab a kitchen knife and make your way to the basement.

You walk in and your ears are filled with the sound of skin smacking against skin, Johnny's groans and the moans of his latest plaything. You don't understand why you're turned on, but you're too blinded by rage unpack that right now. Your heart quickens until it's nearly beating out of your chest as you make your way through the basement and into the room you once occupied.

He's standing behind her, slamming into her roughly, her face twisted in pleasure. Without hesitation you walk over, grab her by the hair and throw her to the ground. Johnny watches, so shocked he doesn't even react. In a flash you're on top of her, plunging the kitchen knife into her chest over and over, continuing long after she's dead.

You finally stop and your eyes come into focus as you stare at the dead woman. You should feel horror or remorse, instead you feel nothing. You take a deep breath and stand up, leaving the knife in her chest. Your legs shake as you get to your feet, turning to face Johnny. Seeing him sends a new wave of anger shooting through you, but the look on his face makes your stomach clench with desire.

You stare into his wild, lust filled eyes as he makes his way over to you. "That's my girl," he says, pulling you close and smashing his lips against yours. He forces his tongue into your mouth and you easily relent, enjoying the way he tastes. He pulls your shirt off and leaves a trail of wet kisses and rough bites down your neck and to your breasts.

He runs his tongue over your nipple then brings it to his lips, sucking on it roughly before bringing it between his teeth and biting down. You let out a moan as he replaces his mouth with his hand and runs his tongue along your other nipple, giving it the same attention.

He continues to kiss down your stomach, leaving extra soft kisses on the letters etched in your skin before pulling down your shorts. He runs his fingers lightly along your wet panties. "You're such a good girl, always so wet for me." You close your eyes, his praise sending even more desire shooting through you.

He runs his tongue along your clothed slit before removing your panties, allowing his hungry eyes to take in his meal. He leans in and begins to devour your wet cunt, sending electricity shooting through your stomach. Your legs shake and you grip his hair, your moans growing louder as he shoves two thick fingers inside of you.

"Johnny!!!" You scream his name as waves of pleasure overwhelm you. After you ride out your climax Johnny stands up and presses his lips against yours. He sticks his tongue in your mouth and you suck your juices off before continuing the kiss.

He groans, lifting you up and resting your legs across his forearms as he grabs your ass and presses his tip against your entrance. You moan as he pushes into you, gripping your ass tightly and bouncing you on his cock effortlessly. You revel in the feeling of his strong shoulders and soft lips as he abuses your tight cunt, quickly getting closer to another orgasm.

"That's it, baby. Cum on my cock." Johnny says breathlessly against your lips. You scream as your pussy contracts around him, the feeling pushing him over the edge. His grip on your ass is bruising as you feel him throbbing inside of you. He stays inside of you for a few moments before pulling out and setting you on the ground.

Johnny didn't really need aftercare, but since you'd gotten closer he'd been providing it for you. He didn't mind, it just gave him an excuse to be close to you. Naturally Johnny was surprised when you put your clothes on and walked to the door without even sparing him a glance.

"Hey, where you runnin' off to?" He calls after you, but you ignore him, making your way upstairs. He follows you, confused and irritated. "Hey, you hear me? Where you goin'?" You continue to ignore him as you make your way upstairs and into the bathroom, slamming the door in Johnny's face and latching it before he could step inside.

"What the fuck is your problem!" He shouts, banging on the door.

"I don't know Johnny, use your fucking head, I'm sure you can figure it out. I'm taking a shower." You say, turning on the water and removing your clothes.

Johnny kicks the door in frustration before leaning against the wall and sinking to the floor. He was smart enough to put two and two together, he knew why you were upset.

He'd had a conversation on the phone with his mom earlier that morning. She told him you could never truly love someone like him, that she was the only one able to love him because a mothers love knows no bounds.

He'd never questioned this before, but he also never thought he'd fall in love. Her words floated around in his head all day. He wasn't sure he was good enough for you, and once you realized it... You'd leave him. The thought sent pain shooting through his chest, and he was desperate to be comforted by your touch.

He regretted fucking that stupid slut. He wasn't even sure why he did it, nobody felt as good as you. Nobody could ever compare to you. It's like he was intent on ruining the best thing that had ever happened to him. He didn't deserve you.

After a while the bathroom door opens and you come out in a towel, ignoring Johnny and heading to the bedroom. He gets up and follows, watching silently in the doorway as you get dressed. After you put on your clothes you walk to the door, crossing your arms when Johnny doesn't move.

"Get out of my way." You say, refusing to look at him. Despite silently letting your tears flow in the shower, you knew looking at him would likely make you break down.

"I'm not goin' anywhere until you talk to me." He says, crossing his arms as well.

"What's there to talk about, Johnny?" You say, using all of your strength to push past him. He grabs your arm, refusing to let you walk away. "Let. Me. Go." You say through gritted teeth.

"C'mon. Please." His soft tone is a stark contrast to his tight grip.

"What do you want me to say, huh? I'm clearly not enough for you! I'm just your toy!" He releases your arm as you drop to your knees, no longer able to suppress your tears. Johnny is in front of you quickly, pulling you into his arms.

"You're enough for me, sweetheart. I'm the one who's not good enough, I keep hurtin' you. I'm sorry."

"Don't do it again. Please." You say quietly, suddenly exhausted.

"I won't, I promise. C'mon, let's go to bed."

You fall asleep in Johnny's arms, tears still streaming down your face.

[payphoneangel]

This passage for the DVD commentary 🥲🥲🥲

BIRDIE!!!! KILL ME DEAD!!!!

Ok this is going to be SO LONG but there's a lot to unpack here.

for anyone curious this is the fic I will be talking about and the ask is based off this post.

oh where do I even BEGIN with this one. Okay. Okay so for this voicemail I had a few ideas I wanted explore.

Dean's relationship to alcohol

Dean's relationship with Jack

Dean's anger

So before we get into this, i think it's important to mention that, at least to me, one of the most frustrating things about Spn is that: It loves to beg the question, but it rarely ever answers it.

What I mean by that is the show will introduce these concepts and ideas. It will say, 'hey you ever notice X?' and I go, 'woah yeah I did notice X! What about it?' and they go, 'uhhhh idk. nothing. why are you asking? shut up.'

So for example, in Hammer of the Gods, Kali has this super great string of lines where she talks about the constant centering of western ideals. She begs the question (to the narrative), Why is the christian god the most important, most powerful god? Why is He the one who gets to be The Great Creator, while every other God is watered down to a Monster of the Week? Is that ever answered? Is it ever unpacked? To my memory, no. The show just continues on as is. They acknowledge the opposition to their argument, but do nothing to refute it.

And they do this all. the. time. with characterization.

Dean's relationship with alcohol

So Dean is canonically an alcoholic. It's shown all the time, far past the 'Red-blooded All American Man loves drinking beer' type of beat. Like we're shown time and time again that Dean struggles with substance abuse, specifically with alcohol, but what is the show trying to say ABOUT it? It seems bad, in the broadest strokes. There's plenty of scenes showing Dean drinking, breaking things, driving, yelling at people, being violent. But, to what end? Once again, to my memory, Dean never gets to heal from this problem, or grow past it. You get the occasional throwaway line, like Sam chastising Dean for drinking on a case at like 10 am (you'll have to forgive me for not remembering what specific episode).

So, in my fic, I wanted there to be consequences for this. Because consequences are the soil through which characters bloom and grow. I wanted Dean to be able to see and feel and understand that yeah, this is bad. this is bad for me and it's bad for everyone around me.

By fucking up on a hunt and then fucking up the post-hunt, that's a direct consequence for him. That's a motivation for him to realize that something needs to change and that he needs to do something. (not saying that canon Dean was unaware of these revelations, but more so that the narrative didn't care to focus on them) I wanted to give him space and opportunity to do that.

2. Dean's relationship with Jack

I think one of the things the show does well is depicting the complexities of family dynamics. It's the complex father show! It's the fucked up brothers show! It's the show that went on so fucking long the brothers became fathers themselves! This is the show about viscous cycles!!!

and im going to be honest, the whole dynamic with Jack is weird. it really is the 'the most noble death in spn is to die for the winchesters' motif taken, imo, to it's most extreme. Hey guys, let's do a filicide (part 2 tbh rip emma). Jack as a character just like, to me it's just evidence of how committed this show is to NOT changing or evolving. Early seasons begs the question, 'when is a monster not a monster? When it used to be human? When its your brother? your son? When is a monster deserving of death? when it's done terrible things? or because it simply has the capacity to?' That's something Sam and Dean have to grapple with! And tbh I don't like the conclusions that the show comes to, which is 'if you are different, you are a monster.' (evidenced by how none of the special children were redeemed or just outright killed. and then Sam went on to just. stop having his powers and just got over drinking blood like okay.)

And then 8-10 years later we get Jack and oh okay we're doing this again. Alright.

So I wanted to ease back a lot of the uhhhh crueler stuff between Dean and Jack. And give them some space to heal and be on better terms with each other. A lot of their bonding happened 'off screen' in Cell service, which I tried to imply with the college plot line, the references to conversations they've had, and how Dean starts using they/them pronouns for Jack, but never really addresses how/when/why that convo happened.

But something that I DO like is the Jack/tfw parallels throughout the show! How does Jack remind Dean of Cas? of Sam? of himself? And I wanted to keep that martyrdom complex that all of tfw has in here. But that's when Dean realizes he fucked up! Kids shouldn't be almost dying for their parents!

And we see that when Sam steps in between Jack and Dean. That's Dean's moment to realize I am doing to Jack what my father did to me and I do not want that. I wanted it to be a bodily safety thing. I wanted Dean to see Jack beat up. Because how often has Dean used his own body as a shield? He knows what it feels like. I wanted him to have this moment of horror of oh. We taught you self-sacrifice. I taught you how to be a tool.

3. Dean's anger

So we have ^^^all that. And we have this moment where Dean is drunk, and he fucks up (or in his eyes fucks up) and Jack has to save him. And he's mad. But why is he mad? What is he angry at? WHO is he angry at?

Rage is very common on the show. In a lot of the high drama moments, we see a lot of anger. Dean breaking everything in a motel room, the violence, the throwing things. And in the show, I think anger is used as a catharsis in a lot of instances. SPN, to me, is an escapist fantasy about being put into situations where the only possible option is violence. The most correct and justified reaction to this impossibly unfair situation is to be violent and angry. And i think part of this is that men are taught to be violent and angry, but also shamed for their violence and anger (it's a whole double-standard thing, but i digress)

I subscribe to the idea that anger is a secondary emotion. Essentially, anger is a response (a call to action, even) to another emotion.

In a lot of the show, the emotion under anger is unfairness. So so so much of spn is this idea of 'it's a shitty situation but you have to pull yourself up by your bootstraps, grit your teeth, and get through it. because that's your job.' and that's fucking unfair!! That's something to get angry over!! And they do.

(Another common emotion preceding anger in the show is grief. And the grief is here. Oh, how it's here. Why was Dean drinking in the first place? Because Castiel is dead. but that's more of a theme for the fic as a whole and not this particular scene so im going to leave it here)

But to me, a very common precedent to anger is fear. You're scared, so you get angry. Anger protects.

I draw on personal experiences for a lot of my writing. Nothing is ever a 1:1 situation of my experience, but there's ghosts of myself in everything I write. This voicemail was one I drew on from an interaction I had with my own father.

One time as a teenager, on a really really hot day, I forgot my water bottle when I went to band practice and I passed out. Oops! I woke up, got sat down in the shade, a water bottle was found for me to drink. I was fine. However, the teachers didn't want me to drive myself home. Which sucked because I lived pretty far out of town. I call my dad. No answer. I call again. Nothing. I leave a voicemail.

I manage to get home (thanks to my stepmom who then left my dad a voicemail saying she grabbed me). But when my dad gets home, he's pissed. He had forgotten his phone in his car when he went into work that day. When he got in the car to drive home, he listened to my voicemail explaining what happened and asking for him to come pick me up (and then my stepmoms). So i'm sitting in our kitchen, and he's just chewing me out for being careless. and I remember thinking, why are you mad? It's not like I intended to get heat exhaustion. And then the more I listened to him, the more I realized. He wasn't actually mad at me. He was worried about me and upset with himself. He felt awful that he hadn't had his phone and couldn't help me when I needed him.

His kid was in trouble, he had been careless, now the kid's hurt. Maybe, had the kid been smarter, and let the monster kill him remembered to pack a water bottle, neither of us would be in this mess.

He was scared about what happened, and that fear came from feeling a lack of control, which then manifested into anger. Anger at himself for being useless, and anger at me for putting myself in that situation. What do you do when you're scared for someone? You get angry. Anger protects.

It's a sad song i think many fathers sing. I found it fitting for Dean.

4. All together now

So Dean's struggling with alcohol, even more so after Cas dying. He's struggling with Jack, and what to do about Jack, and how to be there for them when Dean's the reason their dad is dead. And then we get to this hunt where Dean is so so far from performing at his best and it's a tough fight and he's blaming himself for everything going wrong and then he's this fucking close to being the reason Jack dies, too. And oh, how it all that fear and self-loathing and grief come bursting out of him through anger.

and he feels so out of control! Cas is gone, Jack's hurt, Sam's hurt, and Dean is useless!! So he gets mad! but it's not out of unfairness. It's not out of an impossible situation. It's because Dean was drunk (and takes everyone's lives and well-being personally).

But that begs the question: is it really his fault?

Isn't that what genre he's in? Isn't he in the complex father show? the show about being angry? The show about family being hell?

That's not what he wants, though. That's not who he wants to be. He wants to be good. He wants to be good for his family. For Cas. For the people around him. Hell, maybe even for himself.

So maybe it's not his fault, but if he really wants to change, it is his responsibility to fix.

so maybe, just maybe, given some time, some space, and a narrative that cares,

maybe he can be what who he wants to be. Maybe he can have what he wants.

[whiteskullofroses]

THE EYES OF A HUNTER

Wrong Turn brothers x reader (based on Wrong Turn 6: Last resort)

Imagine you're a childhood friend of Jackson's, when visiting him to catch up on life, you coincidentally meet the 3 brothers. Things quickly escalate to much more than a simple "situationship".

Warnings: Slight Nsfw (nothing crazy tho🤭), blood, all of that cannibalistic stuff, swearing.

~.......~

"Y/N, right? I'm so pleased to finally meet you!" The hot blonde greeted you with a wide smile. The white dress she wore complimented her figure well, that was the first thing you noticed about her when walking from your car to the infamous Resort.

"Well thank you, Sally?" Tilting your head when saying her name, just incase you were wrong about who she was. Your doubts were quickly gone when Jackson walked up to you two: "Sally, I see you've already met my friend here." Smiling he added: "Y/N, welcome to Hobb Springs."

"It's quite a nice place you've got." Complicating the resort as you looked around, noticing the beautifully made furniture along some renaissance paintings hanging on the walls.

Jackson handed you the key to your room: "Heh yeah, it's quite an old one too. Family tradition."

"Vintage, I like it." Grinning at him as Jackson lead you to your room: "Well, I hope you'll make the best of it these 2 weeks."

There was a moment of pleasant silence as you put your luggage in the room. Just as you were about to start unpacking your clothes, Jackson commented: "It was a long ride to get here, you much be starving." Being the gentleman he was, he guided you to the dining room.

The plate loaded with food was already waiting for you on the long medieval looking table. Sitting down and noticing the framed pictures on the walls you wondered: 'What are these?'

Out of trying to be as formal while eating as possible and attempting not to intimidate him, you kept your mouth shut.

Jackson sat down a chair away from you.

"So Y/N how have you been?"

Almost answering his question was interrupted by a man dressed in a red shirt and what appeared to be jeans ran across the hallway, laughing like a maniac.

The piece of meat you were a moment away from putting in your mouth fell off the fork and landed on the mashed potatoes: "What the fuck?"

"Oh don't worry, currently we have some...interesting visitors staying." He stood up, hot on the heels for the white haired guy. Before leaving, he reassured you: "They won't be a bother. Trust me." In a blink of en eye he was gone.

You didn't really think much of it, although you weren't expecting such behaviour at such a 'serious' place.

As you begun eating, the pictures on the walls bothered you more and more. This alone time gave you an opportunity to take a closer look, you didn't know why, but looking at them felt like you were invading someone's privacy. Like you were looking at something you weren't supposed to, they were displayed so publicly but it still didn't feel right.

What you saw when you focused your eyes on the small black and white photos didn't calm your mind either. Severely deformed individuals were staring back at you. Some with 3 legs, abnormally large heads and missing limbs. At least that's what you could make out.

The pictures seemed to be taken somewhere in the mountains, high in the Appalachian forests.

After a while you decided to stop looking. The more you stared the more details you saw. And that wasn't good for you, especially now that you were eating.

~.................~

THE NEXT DAY

The alarm clock on your phone woke you up bright and early. Excitement was boiling in your chest whilst walking down the steps, ready for the day ahead of you.

Today, you and Jackson were to go hunting, something you both enjoyed and have been doing together at least once a year since middle school.

Making your way to the main hall, you saw a group of people standing at the entrance. A blonde girl with shorter hair than Sally's and tall young man were chatting while the others were messing around with a camera.

Without paying much attention to them, you scurried to the get some coffee and to find Jackson.

You were walking quite mindlessly, when making turns around the place. You were staring at your feet with such focus you almost bumped into Sally:

"Oh gosh Sally" you took a step back: "you startled me."

She giggled: "Could say the same to you" with a soft voice she noted: "Jackson has been waiting for you, he's probably in the kitchen. I'll go find hi-"

"No, no it's fine really." you interrupted: "I'll go look for him myself."

After the small chat, your feet took you to the dining room. He wasn't there so you decided to go in the kitchen, for the first time.

According to what Sally told you, the kitchen was a floor below the first. So that's where you went.

"Jackson?" Calling out in hopes of finding him.

This kitchen-basement place appeared to be much older looking than the rest of the building. It reminded you of what an abandoned asylum would look like: cold and white.

Walking straight forward you finally found your target. He wasn't alone. The guy in the red flannel was leaning on the counter, the one who had you wondering about how sane this place really was. Taking a look at him he appeared to be deformed. Not only that. But he was covered in blood.

Stunned at what you were seeing, Jackson along with the guy turned towards you.

"Oh Y/N..." His eyes were as wide as a deer's in headlights. Jackson took a moment to think about what to say. To think about what fake story he'd come up with to soothe your nerves.

Your face must have told a true story of horror. Your mind had already processed why this guy was deformed. It had already processed what those pictures on the walls were about, but rather than being frightened and running away you found it to be quite fascinating.

Taking a closer look at the white haired guy you noticed he was missing two fingers. Leering your eyes from his hands to his face you couldn't help but think 'why is he rather handsome?'.

Your eyes locked with his. It felt like time paused for a second before Jackson finally broke the silence: "Three Finger, me and Y/N are going hunting for the rest of the day." When saying your name he gestured towards you as you finally gazed away and looked at the one speaking. Jackson continued: "You and the other two listen and don't make a mess."

Even though you have long broken the eye contact you still felt three finger's eyes on you, like you were being preyed upon.

~.....................~

"You better get those sights in line with the muzzle this time." You teased. To your luck, you haven't found any deer beside some rabbits. Jackson refused to shoot them, he believed they were holy animals. He used to tell you stories, of how his family from centuries back survived solidly off of them in the woods. Respecting this, you would still do it, but not when he was around.

But after wondering around the woods with silent steps and sharp eyes for about an hour, you finally saw a doe.

"Hey" You whispered. Jackson turned his head towards the doe and readied his gun.

"Careful"

With in seconds the doe was on the ground.

"Pink blood with air bubbles. Perfect." He looked at you and smiled.

In the moment of Jackson's pride, something started moving in the bushes to your left. You grinned even wider: "Give me the gun."

Taking a step back and leaning the gun on your shoulder. Closing an eye and waiting for the soon to be dead animal to jump out.

"DON'T!" Jumping at the sudden yell from Jackson as a hairy, tall man crawled to the doe and started ripping it apart.

"YOU! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

The man looked up, showing his sharp teeth, which were clearly visible due to his mis-shaped top lip.

"IDIOT! GET BACK TO THE RESORT!"

Your eyes fell upon his dark brown eyes, studying the mysterious man closely. Old, worn out clothes roughly hugged his huge form.

The man acted tough, not wanting to go. As, he grunted and hissed at Jackson, his gaze fell upon yours. Both of your eyes locked, just like with Three finger.

"GO!" Shouted Jackson for the last time before tapping you on the shoulder, signaling to follow him. Keeping eye contact with the man on the ground. Taking a step back and finally catching up to Jackson when you once again started to feel like prey.

After a good minute passed, and the quietness became too loud. You broke it: " Who the hell was that?"

"Saw Tooth, brother to the one you saw in the kitchen." His words slipped coldly from his tongue, eyes centered on his feet.

"A-Are you two um.." Debating if you should ask the question or not was truly challenging, would he find it insulting? You knew his ancestors had a history of inbreeding which is heavily criticised, yet you never judged. In the end what was there to judge? They lived in the Mountains, miles away from any civilization. They did what any group of people would to stay alive, to keep evolving, they had children with those who they could have them with.

"Like.. related?" Eventually, the words left your mouth and travelled to Jackson's ears.

"What can I say. He payed the price of purity, just like his other two brothers." He explained: "Physically it may not look appealing, but spiritually it's worth more than the richest of the rich."

Listening carefully to every sentence he spoke: "So to answer your question, yes indeed, we are."

"Right, so he has another brother?" Curious, you wished to get as much out of him as you could. This deeply interested you, from the whole process, of how something like this even happens, to how it becomes a habit in every generation forward.

"Yes, those are the three Hilliker brother. Three Finger, Saw Tooth and One Eye." He sighed: "It's likely you'll see them around Hobb Springs quite often."

"Are they dangerous?"

"To just anybody, yeah. To you, no." Nodding, as he went on: "You're like family to me, I'll make sure they won't even glare at you the wrong way."

How he worded things he was passionate and serious about made him sound like a poet or like an older protective brother in your case.

By the time you returned back to the Resort from the little hunting trip, every question you could possibly think of was answered. It surprised you how comfortable Jackson was with all of it, how much pride he took in his own blood.

"Dinner should be on the table by now. I have some work to do before I shall dig in myself." You cackled and the two of you parted for the rest of the evening.

Walking up the stairs to your room, you were met with Sally, with whom you chatted about your day for a short while. She informed you she'll have your dinner served fresh and warm after you take a much needed shower.

The water running down your body was always the most refreshing and favorite part of the day. Tiredly brushing through your hair before matching off to eat, you were sure to not encounter any strangers on your way to the dining hall, yet you still wanted to look formal enough as you weren't home and anyone could walk on you at any second.

Looking upon the dining table you noticed a glass of wine and a plate full of various kinds of nutritious foods to help you sleep well. Prior to sitting down and enjoying your meal, you heard the soft sounds of rain and thunder putting on a performance in the skies. Your shoes were still outside, they were the only pair you brought with you, so you decided to go and get them before rain could wet them.

As the result of leaving the room to save your shoes, an 'intruder' got to your food ahead of you. The man you peeked on behind the door looked very much like Saw Tooth. Only about shorter. As his hair moved from his face you could see he was cleary missing an eye. One eye. That's where he got his name from.

He was eating your food with his hands, mainly focusing on the meat rather than anything else. Meanwhile he ate, you tried to make your presence clear in some way. Then you got an idea. You were going to barge in as if you haven't been watching him for the past five minutes and see what happens.

Walking in you tried to appear as innocent as you could. When finally gazing at him and the two of you leered at each other, you gave him the most clueless and confusing smile. One eye looked from you to the plate and back to you again.

His features softened, the even more confusing expression now drew on his face. It gave off the impression of feeling bad and being in the wrong. He kept his face low, so you walked up to him: "It's alright, you can finish it." You smiled: "I'll get myself another one."

The atmosphere of the room immediately shifted to a much brighter one with One Eye smiling so lovingly at you. Besides his deformities he looked the softest of the three.

You would never have guessed what would happen next. He took three steps towards you and hugged you. Your brain didn't have the time to process what was happening. It didn't have enough time to let adrenaline loose in your system and to tell you to push him away and run. Maybe it was because that really didn't feel like the right thing to do. The right thing to do in the moment was to hug him back.

In all reality, this was probably the first time someone has showed him compassion in oh so many years, from your knowledge he couldn't speak but he could show gratitude back in other forms such as holding onto you and breathing in your scent.

One eye certainly didn't smell the best, yet his hair was softer than you expected.

It's been a long time since you've received a hug that was so wholeheartedly warm and long, so you didn't let go and neither did he.

~.......................~

The morning after, everything seemed so bloomy. Like it was all one big dream. Suddenly you remembered, whilst walking back from the forest with Jackson, he mentioned a family ritual Sally and this new guy Danny will be a part of. Showing interest in it landed you an invitation to the event.

Jackson trusting you enough to request your company at this family gathering later in the evening, truly showed how close the two of you were, even though you only saw each other about once or twice a year.

Saying you were excited was an underestimatement. Today you decided you will try to find Danny and introduce yourself to him. It was the only thing that felt right since he was related to Jackson. Besides having some new friends wouldn't hurt, what have you got to lose?

Suspicions roaming your noggin were preaching to you that the Hilliker brothers will attend the event too, not that they weren't on your mind since you met them all either.

Saw Tooth's toughness and dominance combined with One eye's softness and more submissive nature had you believe that Three Finger, who hasn't had the time to put any kind of impressions on you, was both of these world's in one.

He was the "smallest" so you believed he was also the deadliest, although calling him small was quite funny because he still towered over you like you were a mouse compared to him. Three Finger had to be at least 5 ft 10, meanwhile One Eye was 6 ft 5 and Saw Tooth was around 7 ft tall.

This attraction that has grown on you whilst only seeing them once made you believe that at some point, somehow you'd become really really good friends with them. Maybe even more, who knows?

The day went by fast, you met so many new people that came with the one you were targeting: Danny. His girlfriend Toni, her brother and their friends truly held a positive spirit with them and you adored it.

But once the Sun hit itself behind the horizon and everyone went to sleep you did your hair, put on your favorite jacket and jumped in the car with Jackson, Sally and Danny towards the gathering.

The drive on the bumpy road didn't last long, the amount of minutes it took you to get there could probably be counted on one hand.

Exiting the car and taking a look at the old wooden house standing in the middle of the forest had eagerness boiling in your veins.

To be quite honest with yourself the thing where the most excited about was seeing the three brothers. You truly wanted to make an unforgettable impression, you wanted all of their attention on you. Feelings of doubt and self-consciousness had no place in yourself this once.

Sally suddenly grabbed your hand and started guiding you closer to the house, she once again smiled at you like she always did and told you to not fear.

Once you finally arrived to the big branches and the fire in the middle, children or at least what seemed to be children with their innocent deformed faces running up to you and Danny to greet you and welcome you to this important ritual you in all honesty didn't have a true clue about.

Sally brought the four of you drinks and you took a sip first, Jackson grinned at you and commented: "Don't have too many of these."

"Heh, what's this made of anyway?"You questioned: "I've never drunken anything so strong in my life."

"Family recipe." Sally softly tapped your knee.

Being occupied with listening to the music a girl was playing and looking at everyone since everybody was so unique, you didn't even notice a red truck pulled up behind you. The three men you've been waiting for the whole night finally arrived.

You've only noticed the new guests when Three Finger grabbed Danny's shoulder who was sitting next to you. Leering behind Danny to see him, his eyes traveled from Danny to you, just like in the kitchen when you first saw one another.

He smirked at you and rubbed your arm for a short while, keeping the eye contact as in saying "Welcome."

One Eye sat down next to Sally you noticed him and nodded to greet him. Strangely Sawtooth was nowhere to be seen.

"HELP! HELP ME!" Nobody seemed startled by the sudden pleading for help by a guy you recognized from the Resort. He was a friend of Danny's. Draging him was noone other than Sawtooth himself.

"DANNY! PLEASE! WHAT THE FUCK, DANNY!" The terror in the young man's eyes as he was being lifted on a table like a pig was indescribable. Three Finger pulled out a knife and cut deep into the guy as he yelled his heart out. He was cut open from the throat to the stomach.

Blood splashed out his body, his organs being ripped out by the hands of starving people and being eaten infront of him.

Screaming eventually died down and when they did, people started drinking the alcohol, the blood and whatever they could find.

As everybody enjoyed themselves, well known eyes were luring you closer. The hairy giant was checking you out, a pair of hands grabbed your waist, pulling you back into Three Finger's hold. He chuckled against your hair. Feeling the hot breath on you neck, you put your hands onto his.

Your whole body was pressed against Three Finger from behind, he grunted something you of course couldn't understand.

Leading you to the red truck and opening the door, for a second you hesitated. Was it safe? You knew that Jackson promised to inform them to leave you alone, but was he legit?

After taking a moment and looking at One Eye, who was sitting on the passenger seat, smiling at you. You knew you could trust them. Taking a seat next to One Eye, Three Finger turned on the vehicle.

Saw Tooth was sitting on the truck bed floor, the eyes of the hunter piercing into your soul.

While he almost scared you, the one sitting beside you couldn't stop fidgeting with your hands. One Eye was simply all over you, a pinch of shyness and pure kindness in him already told you what they were planning on doing with you.

You were theirs now. They quite literally claimed you and were driving you God knows where to do whatever they'd like.

To be honest the alcohol in your system was calming you down with the help of One Eye who was now playing with your hair as your head fell to his chest.

What a shame to admit, you've fallen hard. And so did they.

THE END.