#people in this town are ASS about leash laws too

[the-private-local-enemy]

i call my dog a wild mangy mutt because he's actin like one (barking at a dog that barks at him when its outside... when it isn't outside or even able to hear him, like a fuckin old man yelling at a cloud 🤪) and this old biddy ahead stops and turns several times to stare

like biiiitch you got something to say say it, i'll use my unfiltered vocabulary on you too 💖 i've got words that'll make you clutch your pearls so hard they shatter 😃

[atrwriting]

trust me -- billy the kid x barowner!reader

hi everyone :) sorry I've been MIA — law school has been kicking my #ass but it's ok. I saw the new thg movie and while IAMNOTACORIOSNOWSTAN but I am a t*m bl*th and the man was so fine in this show. so fine. I've only seen like three fics for this man (maybe I just don't know how to search correctly thats probably my fault) but I was SEARCHING FOREVER and then I just got pissed because I couldn't find any so I wrote almost eight thousand words for this man that is how down bad I was

informal warnings: me. 1) I should be put on a leash 2) I use italics way too much 3) and whatever the fuck this "—" is 4) will i ever give up the female bar owner trope 5) will I ever stop tho? [vanilla ice voice] no, I don't know

as always, the actual warnings: smutty smut smut SMUT!, unprotected sex (1880's bby but you still gotta wrap it before you tap it), violence, guns, bit of gore but like the tiniest bit, virgin!reader, p in v sex, oral sex, bit of a dom!billy, bit of a bratty!sub!reader, overstimulation what can I say I should be put on a leash

anyway.... here's trust me:

when your father died… it was hard to be sad. he wasn’t very kind and he never seemed to like you very much… but in his will, being his only surviving kin, he left you money.

a lot of it.

and an old building.

the town it resided in was convenient in the way that many people that were passing through had to stop there. so what did you do? well, the only thing you could do — turn it into a restaurant and boarding house.

the money he left behind was used to fix up the place and pay your employees.

within a few weeks time, your place was up and running with very little vacancy. families and important people were always in your bar or comfortably in their rooms. never had you ever thought someone could be as lucky as you.

until one day. that day.

you worked alongside your employees but flipped between positions. sometimes you were a hostess, ran the front desk, a bartender, or anything else that needed tending to. in response, many people did not know you were the owner — and, therefore, some people treated you like you weren’t.

mainly gross old men, which you could handle. however, when a young, strong, and tall man challenged you?

that was dangerous. too dangerous.

even a fake wedding ring didn’t steer them away.

on that day, a young blacksmith had found his way into your bar. he was handsy with you much of the night, and you tried your best to steer him away. it wasn’t until you pulled a knife on him that he finally let up. it didn’t look like anyone saw, but still — you were scared and worried. would people think you classless, for pulling a knife on a patron? would they see you as weak? would they notice that the alcohol you served brought in too rowdy of a crowd? would they stop venturing in?

you thought no one noticed, and tried to convince yourself of that fact — but you were wrong.

when you were closing for the night, mostly everyone had left. a small group of men usually stayed until close — and you didn’t mind. they drank well, paid their tab, and were mostly quiet and polite. you didn’t know any of their names — but it was usually bad when you did know a patron’s name, so you liked them.

you had your back turned to the front of the bar, stacking bottles, when someone cleared their throat from behind you.

“ma’am?”

you turned around.

a tall, fair skinned man with a hat stood before you. his clothes were old and worn, and his fingernails reflected that he was a hard worker during the day. that type of exhaustion was also reflected in his eyes.

but, damn... his face? no one could deny that that man was handsome.

you smiled. “another drink, sir?”

“no. thank you.” he paused for a moment, keeping your gaze. “i wanted to check if you were alright.”

you immediately knew what he was talking about, but kept your face stoic. “yes, sir, thank you.”

he looked like he wanted to say something, but struggled with how to word it. “he usually a problem?”

you clenched your jaw. “he’s… he’s fine. too much drink, ‘s’all. gets the best of working men. can’t blame ‘em.” you swallowed, trying to keep your anxiety at bay. who was this man and why did he care? was he a friend of the man? “you sure there’s nothing i can’t get for you?”

“some wouldn't blame ‘em.” he ignored your question. his bright blue eyes held your gaze. “i would.”

you forced a tight lipped smile. with a laugh, you joked, “i’ll… be fine, sir. thank you. thought a fake wedding ring would do the trick… gotta think of something else now.”

he smiled, but in a sad way. “i was going to ask if your husband ever checked in on the place.”

“no husband,” you affirmed with a sigh. you introduced yourself, and then asked, “what’s your name?”

“william h. bonney, ma’am… but you can call me billy.”

“nice to meet you, billy,” you smiled. “and, please — don’t call me ma’am.”

“alright.” he returned your smile. “the men behind me… we run a sort of — security detail for part time work. if you ever wanted to hire us, we could have a man here when we can spare.”

you nodded, contemplating your offer. he explained the per diem, and you immediately agreed.

“if your man can keep this place safe with little bloodshed, i’ll even throw in a free bottle a day,” you countered.

and that was how your business with billy the kid and his men began.

the men that came along were usually polite and quiet, and mostly stayed at the edge of the bar. they watched for problems, and slowly but surely your fear had begun to subside. there was a minor scuffle one day, where a man had cracked a glass and cut you with it… but billy’s man had stopped him before he could do anything else. you didn’t hold it against billy’s guy — you cared about your business and if the business got bloody, not so much yourself.

billy, on the other hand… did not agree.

one day, bright and early, he parked himself at the middle of the bar where you stood behind the counter.

“rarely see you for detail,” you smiled, wiping down a glass. “much less this early. breakfast, mr. bonney?”

“billy, ma’am,” he responded. “breakfast does sound fine.”

you laughed. “i hate when you call me ma’am.”

“don’t much like it when you call me mister,” he quirked an eyebrow. billy was a rather emotionless and hard man, but you could tell he was joking.

you laughed again. “steak and eggs for billy, coming right up.”

the rest of the day went on peacefully, and you kept billy’s glass full. he was quiet and didn’t talk much, which you weren’t too keen about. he was mysterious, tall, dark and handsome — which was usually a bad combination. you knew it was, and you should’ve cared — but you didn’t.

as you were filling billy’s glass into the later hours of the afternoon, you finally bucked up the courage to ask him a question.

“so why did you stop in today?” you asked. “not that i mind. i just have only seen you when you come in at night.”

“we made a deal, sweetheart,” he responded. your eyes perked up at the nickname. you didn’t hate the nickname — but you hated yourself a wee bit for how much you liked hearing billy call you it. “the man i sent here was supposed to make sure he kept you from harm — he didn’t hold up his end on the deal.”

“it was kept quiet from the other patrons,” you responded. “that’s all i really care about. i’m a woman in the restaurant and boardinghouse business — stuff like that is bound to happen. no need to be hard on him.”

“you keep my men’s glasses too full for them to let slip ups like that happen,” he replied. “he knew better. should've acted better.”

“you’re the boss, billy,” you sighed with a smile. “i’m just the bartender.”

“damn good bartender at that,” he spoke. “too good.”

you giggled, and grew ashamed rather quickly at how much you enjoyed his company. you didn’t know him well, no… but damn, was it nice to have him around.

the rest of the night was rather quiet. a few families had stepped in and out, and a few meetings were being held where the tables sat. that was until the blacksmith that started this whole thing came in and sat himself only a stool away from billy.

you threw a look at billy, but he didn’t meet your eyes. his peripheral vision was already on the man. billy remembered him, and you couldn’t say fondly.

“whiskey, sweetheart,” he grunted. “leave the bottle.”

you sighed. a quiet day was going to turn into a rough night in a matter of a few moments.

“mr. martin, i can’t leave the bottle unless you settle your tab from the nights prior,” you answered. “i can get you a double and add it on, though, if that’s alright with you?”

“that’s not alright with me, girl,” he grunted again, glaring you down. “leave the damn bottle!”

you stood your ground. “there’s a bar across the street, mr. martin.”

“you don’t want my business, that it, sweetheart?”

“not much business if you don’t pay," you quipped.

through gritted teeth, he spat, “leave. the damn. bottle.”

“pay. the. tab.”

he went to catch you by the arm, but you were too quick. you anticipated his antics this time. you snatched an empty bottle, and broke the base of it in the sink. you put the broken, jagged edge of the neck of the bottle in between the two of you. your eyes were wild — you could feel it, and both men could definitely see it. startled, he drew back.

“this is the only bottle you’re getting with that attitude.”

that was when billy stood up and walked towards the man. the thuds of his boots, though few considering the short distance, were deafening in the mostly silent bar. you may have had a makeshift weapon, but billy? billy the kid? everyone knew what he had on him.

“time for you to leave, friend.”

the man laughed. “friend? who’s my friend to tell me when i need to leave?”

“the one who’s a quicker draw than you, that's who." his answer was slow and cool — too calm, which only made the shiver of a threat run up and down your spine faster.

the man, all talk, clenched his jaw as he stared at billy. he slapped the tab money on the top of the bar, and walked out.

you didn’t let out a sigh of relief until the man left.

but billy was the one that spoke first. “was going to step in immediately… but you held your own. they need to respect you before they’re scared of me.”

you laughed. “little does he know i’m all talk as well.”

“with that bottle?” he chuckled. “sweetheart, even i was scared.”

“you threatened him with a gun… i don’t think anything scares you, billy,” you asked. “thank you for stepping in.”

“‘s my job.”

“i know… but still,” you spoke.

you were continuing to close before he spoke again.

“what made you want to start this place?” he asked.

“my father passed a few moons before i opened this place,” you responded. “no parents, no husband — thought i might try this out.”

“my ma wanted to start a place like this,” he replied. “never got the chance.”

you nodded with a sad smile. “didn’t know her… but i think she’d be proud of how you handled that. don’t think he’ll be much trouble anymore.”

“she’d think i’m trouble with how full the lovely bartender keeps my glass,” he spoke, but looked like he instantly regretted it. “my apologies, i shouldn’t’ve — the whiskey —“

“you’re fine,” you laughed, your blush pinching your cheeks. as you walked away, you threw over your shoulder, “hopefully your ma wouldn’t mind that i keep her son’s glass full for his good work… nor that i think her son’s handsome.”

from that day forward, billy was always the man who sat at your bar.

he always greeted and made pleasant conversation with you, and glared at any man that got too aggressive with you. if looks could kill… billy would never need what he held in his holster.

you’d giggle to yourself after the creepy men would walk away. you’d never know… but when billy would hear your giggle afterwards, he’d smile, too.

but he kept that to himself.

however, slowly… he was becoming more comfortable with your company.

“so why didn’t you marry?” he one day asked randomly.

you were wiping down a glass when you got lost in the thought. “when there’s a nice one that’s interested… maybe. haven’t already because there aren’t very many nice ones. it was very convenient when you started keeping the bad ones away.”

to your dismay, he didn’t say anything in response.

but you had gotten comfortable with his company, too. too comfortable.

“and why isn’t there a mrs. bonney, billy?”

“she’d get jealous about how much time i spend with you,” he responded.

there was very little emotion in his voice, and you were afraid of reading into what he was saying. was he returning your flirtations? was he telling you that you were a drag? to answer your own question, you jokingly said, “well if i’m too much trouble, mr. bonney, you are more than welcome to have another one of your men step in.”

“well, ma’am —“ he began. “then i’d get jealous of how much time they were spending with you.”

you couldn’t hide the blush that rose into your cheeks. billy looked upon your face with a small smile tugging at his lips, and his gaze didn’t waver.

“keep talking like that, billy, and i’ll become trouble for you,” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“can’t say i’d mind much,” he responded, taking a sip of his glass, but holding eye contact with you.

if you weren’t frozen, you would’ve pulled yourself over the bar right then and then and planted yourself in his lap. you would’ve flung his glass to the floor, and wouldn’t have cleaned it up until you had kissed every inch of that man. you would’ve responded, but you couldn’t...

that was when billy’s men had stepped into the bar.

the air immediately darkened. the blonde one, named jesse, had led the pack as they stalked in. billy immediately flipped around to see what the problem was.

“sweetheart, give us a minute,” billy asked, calling over his shoulder.

billy never gave you orders, let alone in your own bar. however, if he was asking you to… you figured you should probably listen. you left the bar and went into the back. most of your employees had left for the night, so you helped the remaining ones clean up. it would be a few minutes or so before billy had come back into the kitchen to find you. you went back into the bar with him.

“i’ll be back before you close,” he spoke. “lock the doors.”

a second order. something he never did in the first place. something was wrong. you didn’t pry… you just scrunched your eyebrows in response.

“something’s up,” he spoke. he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before he turned to leave. “i’m takin’ care of it.”

there you stood, absolutely stunned. billy and his men left the bar with haste and didn’t look back. you, on the other hand, stood frozen… unable to leave the spot where you had billy the kid, known for his deadly skills, kiss you on the cheek.

you finally moved, reluctantly, but only to close up.

it would be close to an hour before billy finally came back. a few of his friends came with him, and they dragged in a man on their shoulder who was grunting in pain. blood was pouring from his leg, and you immediately went for the medical supplies you kept hidden under the counter. you grabbed two bottles of whiskey for good measure, arguably also a part of your makeshift kit.

“put him down on the table,” you gushed. his men were stunned to see you hustling, but they didn’t hesitate to rest their friend. you immediately took a look at the man’s leg, and were thankful to see that there would be no permanent damage. you shoved a bottle at jesse, and stated, “make him drink this.”

jesse had unscrewed the bottle and helped his friend drink before you fished out the bullet. thankfully no arteries were punctured, but it would be some time before he was good again. you cleaned up the man the best you could, and asked if any of the men needed anything.

“no, ma’am…” jesse responded. “we were going to bring him here and do it ourselves, your place was closest… so thank you.”

you smiled at him. “take the bottles. need it more than me.”

he tipped his hat to you.

“jesse,” billy began. “you and the boys head home.”

without question, jesse nodded. they helped their friend to his feet and left with a goodbye. even though they left, the unsettling feeling of the room hadn’t changed. billy seemed… different. heavier. he wasn’t the same man that had kissed you on the cheek before he had left.

you turned to him. “i won’t pry, but —“

“good,” he spat, turning to you. billy’s eyes bore into yours like you were one of the problem men at your bar. “don’t.”

a look of hurt flashed across your face. you could feel it. “you’re looking at me like i did something.”

“i told you to lock the door,” he spat again, his look of anger unwavering.

you had only seen billy's eyes that wide and that angry when there was someone being cruel to you. the thought made you shiver.

“how would you have gotten back in?” you asked.

“knocked,” he bit.

you narrowed your eyes at his curt response. “i had a feeling something was wrong. if i had waited to unlock, i couldn’t have gotten that bullet out as fast as i did.”

“doesn’t matter,” he bit. “how am i supposed to keep you safe if you won’t listen to me?”

you scrunched your brows together in confusion. “billy… whatever happened where you were, it wasn’t here. i could’ve gone to bed… but i stayed up. waiting for you.”

“and what if someone came in, huh? what then?” he hollered. “what would you have done then?! what would i have done if you had gotten hurt?”

you shook your head in disbelief. you couldn’t believe billy was speaking to you with such disdain. “with the way you’re talking to me, billy — sounds like you’re used to women who don’t pull knives on creepy men, hold broke bottles to their necks — or fish bullets out of legs when i don’t know why he was shot in the first place. you’re used to those kind of women, and have a problem with me? maybe you should go back to them.”

you immediately turned away from him, beginning to walk towards the bar. billy was hot on your heels when he reached out to grab your wrist and turned you around.

he grabbed both sides of your face and pressed his lips to yours.

you wanted to scream at him, throw fists at his chest, push him away — anything to let you know how he hurt you, how he wronged you... but you couldn't.

no. you couldn't.

you were so stunned you stood frozen in place as his lips moved against yours. you loosely held his wrists in your hands, and kissed him back.

“don’t want those girls, darlin’,” he spoke, breathless, in between kisses. “knew you were a real woman the first time i saw you. the kind that puts the fear of god into you, but looks at you with such a sweetness in her eyes that you can’t look away.”

“better believe it, bonney,” you spat, half joking. “you’ve seen how quick i am.”

“i know, darlin’, i know,” he whispered, kissing you once more. “i also know i was wrong to speak to you the way i did.”

“shut your damn mouth and kiss me,” you replied, pulling him closer to you.

“yes, ma’am,” he playfully responded, and you slapped his shoulder.

billy had backed you up against the wall and pressed his body towards yours. you stood on your toes to reach him, and even then he had to lean down a foot or two.

“billy…” you began, pulling away. “i’ve never… but if you wouldn’t think less of me, we could go upstairs. to my room.”

“i’d never think less of you,” he spoke, shaking off your comment. “but… what’d’ya mean, ‘never?’”

“i’ve never been with a man, billy,” you responded, suddenly embarrassed.

he was quiet for a moment, before stating, “you sure you want it to be with me?”

you nodded. “if… if you want to, that is.”

he didn’t respond to your statement, he just kissed you. he kissed you with every emotion you didn’t think he ever possessed — raw, hot, desperate emotion that held you close and tight to him. the heat and the intensity made your brain swim, but you could only care so much when billy the fucking kid wanted you.

he slipped an arm around your shoulders and then underneath your knees before he picked you up. you bit back a squeal before you threw your arms around his neck.

“light as a feather, sweetheart, don’t you worry,” he spoke.

“all that steak i been feeding you?” you joked.

“my belt can’t help it if my woman feeds me well,” he replied, almost at the top of the stairs.

“you’re a flirt,” you giggled.

you pointed him towards your room. once in, he laid you down on the bed and laid on top of you. his body was warm and sturdy over yours, and you couldn’t help but feel warm. his hips were pressed against yours, but you couldn’t feel him through your dress. you grew frustrated at the thought.

you made quick work to undue his shirt, and billy was quick to catch on. he pulled away to take off his shirt, and you tried to take off your corset with his help.

“damn death trap,” he spat, fussing.

you giggled. he was cute when he was flustered, but nothing compared to the way he was looking hungrily down at you. you were completely bare before him, and you should’ve been embarrassed… but shame wasn’t present in this moment. the only thing you registered was how billy looked down at you — with adoration in his eyes as they raked down your naked form.

“will you…” you began. “will you show me… how to please… you?”

“another time, sweetheart,” he spoke, stealing a quick kiss from you. “i need my head between those legs of yours.”

“you-you don’t have to —“ you spoke. “i know that’s not something — that boys —“

“yeah — boys.” billy snapped, glaring at you. “real men want to taste their women.”

that shut you right up.

billy wedged himself in between your thighs and spread your folds. it caused a sharp intake of breath on your part, but you didn’t realize what you were in for. billy flattened his tongue, and licked a long stripe up your slit. your teeth sank into your lip at the foreign feeling that cause so much warmth to make your veins twitch.

…but when billy’s nose had nudged a specific spot at the top of your slit — your legs jerked.

“what — what —“ you stammered.

“shh,” billy cooed, slightly laughing. “i forgot how sensitive you were. my apologies, sweetheart.”

you trusted billy, sure, but you had never felt anything like that before in your life. the jerking motion of your legs was involuntary and made you fearful. billy could see the fear written on your face.

“that spot that i touched, that you felt?” he asked.

his eyes were so wide and meaningful you felt like you could melt in them. you brought yourself up to your elbows and hummed in acknowledgement.

“that is the most sensitive part of a woman, and if i play it just right —“ ever so lightly, you felt his middle finger and ring finger touch the spot. you shivered at the feeling, but you didn’t flinch like last time. you held his gaze as the warmth began to spread inside you. “i can make you feel better than you’ve ever felt.”

billy bent over your body and held himself up with extended arm planted firmly by your side. he swiped the two fingers over his tongue to lubricate them, and brought them right back to where they were. you both watched his fingers play at the most sensitive part of you, and your lip began to quiver.

“look at me, sweetheart.”

your eyes glanced back up to him.

like you thought before, if angry looks could kill… anyone would die by just a look from billy the kid. however, what would they say about the way he’s looking at you now? with his plump lips parted, and his eyes wild and hungry? you didn't know... but you knew you would find out.

“y’trust me?” he asked.

you hummed in agreement, nodding.

“say it.”

you sharply inhaled, caught off guard by his order. “yes, billy — i trust you.”

instead of leaning back down to plunge his face in between your thighs, he kissed you. his lips connected with yours in one of the most dominating ways you ever thought a man could. with his hand playing between your thighs, he swallowed every moan and cry you struggled to keep hidden inside of you. billy was breathing hard against you — relishing in how it felt to have you so vulnerable and close to him.

that was when his fingers picked up speed.

and, god… did it feel damn good.

“b-billy,” you whimpered. “feels…”

“still trust me?”

“yes,” you cried, screwing your eyes shut. “yes, it’s just…”

he leaned his head down so his mouth was right by your ear. his breaths were hot against your ear, and you hummed at the feeling. your hand played with the curls at the nape of his neck, tugging at the roots.

“fuck — you takin’ what i’m givin’ to you, darlin’,” he rasped, then continued, “drives me insane.”

you could barely hear what he was saying, nor could you respond. your head was swimming with the weight of billy so close to your naked body, holding you down and safe, with those skilled fingers of his working you like you were a damn trigger. you were a whimpering, crying mess — and billy loved every second of it.

“something — feels —“

“d’ya want me to stop?” he asked, breathless.

“no,” you whimpered, confused how the warmth inside you felt like it was going, going, going. you didn’t know where it started, where it was going, and definitely didn’t know where it ended. you were worried that you were going to explode — but you didn’t understand. “something feels — like i’m — i’m going —“

“let it happen, sweetheart.” his kisses were wet and sloppy along the skin of your throat. he nipped at the skin, and that only sent you into more of a frenzy. “that’s right, darlin’. that’s it. trust me. i’ve got you.”

and that was it.

the thing — billy’s words, that sent you toppling over whatever metaphorical edge you could think of to describe it. it felt like white, hot sparks went off behind your closed eyelids and were going off on every nerve ending in your body. whimpers left your bitten lips like you were a babe, and your back arched off the bed. distantly, you could hear billy cooing with excitement, laughter… and praise.

a light sheen of sweat was on both of you, and billy had never looked better. his musk was wafting through the air and had completely taken over your senses. you felt like the only thing in the room was billy and the only thing in the world that mattered was billy. men got drunk off whiskey, but you? you got drunk off of that pure, unfiltered scent and look of a masculine man who showed you how to experience the pleasure of a woman you had never known.

“fuck…” you whimpered as you came down from your high. you tried pushing billy’s hand away, but you were so weak you didn’t think you could.

“sorry, darlin’,” he laughed, kissing your throat again. “got selfish. wanted to keep seeing that pretty look on your face.”

it was difficult for you to find words, let alone enough for an adequate response. “billy… that… that felt…”

“i’m gonna be trouble for you now.” he stole a kiss. “nothing better than seeing you below me, like that…”

“i want you to feel good, too,” you began. “please, billy? i wanna see you, too.”

his lips formed a tight line. “i don’t want it to hurt you.”

“first time doesn’t always hurt,” you spoke. “no one says the second time hurts.”

he smiled at that, and began to roll on top of you. you stopped him, and gestured for him to sit up against the headboard. he was hesitant at first, but he did it anyway. you hovered your hips above his before licking one of your palms and gliding it over the tip of his length. you stroked him a few times, and a soft moan left his lips at the feeling.

“i can keep going,” you spoke, throwing a sultry look up at him. “i want to make you feel good.”

“no, doll,” he rasped. “too selfish. need to see that pretty face of yours do what it does again.”

you pouted for a short moment before you lifted your hips above his length and began to sink down. you could feel a slick leaking from your folds, which made you feel better about actually getting him inside you.

“go slow,” he ordered suddenly. “you stop if it hurts, got it?”

you nodded, half ignoring him.

but it didn’t hurt.

the first inch didn’t hurt. the second didn’t. the third, the fourth, the fifth, sixth, — you lost count. billy was so big and filled you so nicely that you were so greedy with how you sank down into him. you couldn’t have cared less about what he said before about going slow — all you needed was to feel all of him completely.

“you didn’t listen —“ he grunted, slightly mad. “you’re so lucky you feel good, fuck — you’re so tight —“

“so what if i didn’t listen, mr. bonney?” you smiled coyly at him, a sudden bout of confidence coming over you. maybe it was the post orgasm glow, maybe it was the new feeling of having the most perfect man inside of you — you weren’t sure. “you feel — so good.”

“don’t get bold on me, sweetheart,” he smirked.

you didn’t listen. you picked up your pace, rocking your hips back and forth to what felt good inside of you.

billy’s cock liked that, sure — but he didn’t. you could see the mental turmoil on his face as his neglected cock was finally getting the attention it deserved, but his hothead person didn’t like that his girl was getting smart on him.

that was when billy flipped you over onto your back, much to your dismay. you liked putting on a show for him and doing all the work for a change.

“you wanna act like that, darlin’, huh?” he asked in your ear with a raspy, lust filled voice. “not gonna listen to me?”

“it just felt so good, billy, please —“ you were whining at this point, pissed he had taken away that feeling.

“oh, you’re a greedy thing, that right?” he taunted. “gets one fuckin’ taste, and now she can’t get enough?”

you shook your head, desperate for something — anything. “so greedy, baby. please, billy — please just fuck me.”

his hips snapped against you. hard.

maybe it should’ve hurt — but fucking christ, it didn’t. it felt so good to have his strong, forceful hips thrust against yours and hit that spot so deep inside of you.

“you like that?” he asked, taunting you. “that’s what my greedy girl wanted? — needed?”

his hips were relentlessly snapping against yours now as he hovered above you by holding himself up on his elbows. the sight of his broad and strong chest and shoulders… enough to make any woman weak. a firm crease was in his brow, signaling he was struggling to keep up his mean persona.

“yes — yes —“ you cried. “billy, you’re so deep — it feels — fuck, you can’t stop billy. please —“

“sweetest fuckin’ pussy,” he grunted. “squeezing me so tight.”

“right there — that’s the spot, baby,” you bit your lip to keep your voice down.

billy leaned his forehead against yours, and his exhales fanned against your face. little moans were escaping his lips as well, but nothing like yours. instead, he spat, “couldn’t let me be nice to you and fuck you sweet, huh? had to get smart on me?”

you could barely hear him. billy’s usual raspy, and commanding voice was enough to make anyone stand at attention — but now? now you were some cockdrunk whore who didn’t care how she got what she wanted, only that she did. his thrust were hard and fast, hitting a deep spot in you that was making that warmth swell up in you again.

“didn’t want sweet, billy,” you whimpered. “wanted you to use me just like this.”

you weren’t sure what came over you — and billy wasn’t sure either. his thrusts didn’t falter, but he couldn’t understand how the pretty, innocent looking bartender could be so fucking naughty — but only for him. a sense of pride had never welled up inside him like that before, knowing that he was the only one who got to see the prettiest girl in town keen for someone’s touch like this.

his touch. only his touch.

“gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he spat against your ear. “should’ve known you’d be such a good girl for me — taking my cock like this. can you cum around my cock like this? gonna be the best girl — and show me how that pussy tightens around me?”

the curse words billy drew from you were not your sunday best, but they made billy’s guttural groans against your throat and ear that much more enticing. you were both covered in sweat, spit, and slick — and nothing had ever felt better. you were close, so close — and all you wanted was to see him finish so you could see it for yourself.

“billy, i’m so close —“ you cried. “but i wanna —i wanna see you —“

“shhh,” he cooed. “gonna take what i give you, sweet girl.”

he sent a hand in between your bodies, and started playing with that spot that had made you explode the last time. you almost protested, but there was nothing like having a man buried so deep inside you do whatever he could to make sure you felt the best you could. you whined, you cried, you screamed, fuck — you did everything to let him know that you were close, billy, i’m so close, please, i’m begging, please don’t stop, and billy refused to look away from your beautiful face as you came undone below him once more.

with your beautiful hair fanned out around you, billy thought you looked ethereal as your second orgasm overtook you. there was something about the way your eyes fluttered softly closed, but broken gasps left your lips like you were so far gone in pleasure that you were lost in it. here, beneath him, before him, was a woman he had spent so much time protecting, so worried about her safety… all he wanted to do was make her feel good. when your limbs began to quiver, knowing you were so deep in your orgasm that you were at the peak, billy couldn’t help himself. he knew you were sensitive, he knew how it would be too much, he knew he shouldn't — but he had to. he was so, so selfish with his greedy girl.

his fingers kept spinning circles on your pink rosebud, and it was like the white light behind your eyes couldn’t stop. you were gasping for air — begging, pleading, hoping, wishing. it was so much. it was too much. it was everything and anything all at once, and you didn’t realize how far you were falling until tears leaked from your eyes.

he should've hated himself for making you feel so lost, but he didn't. not one bit.

“billy —“ you cried, shaking. “i’m so — so sensitive —“

he engulfed you into a long kiss, smiling smugly against your lips. you would’ve laughed with him, but you were so weak. so, so weak. he knew how sensitive you were, and stopped his movements completely. you didn’t realize he hadn’t finished with you until he began to pull out of you.

“billy — you didn’t —“

“s’alright, darlin’—“

“no, it’s not,” you said firmly. “teach me how to do — that thing.”

“that... thing?”

“with my mouth.”

he hesitated before shaking his head. “i don’t… tonight was a lot — for you.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “boys don’t taste their women, right? men do?”

he scrunched his eyebrows together, confused, but nodded anyway.

“and what about real women, billy?” you asked. “you think they like leaving their men unsatisfied?”

his lips parted at a loss. he couldn’t argue with that, could he?

“sit on the edge of the bed,” you spoke, sliding out from under him and finding a place on the floor.

he hesitated, but he didn’t argue with that, either.

you tried to hide your smirk from him.

he'd never tell you he saw it. he also would never tell you he loved it.

"you gonna tell me what to do, or what, cowboy?" you smirked up at him, taunting.

he shook his head, and pursed his lips in a way that he knew you were in over your head. "you're acting bold. let's see if you got a reason to."

you narrowed your eyes at him, but smiled anyway.

you returned your attention to the muscle you were holding in yours hands. it was long and thick — you weren't sure how it fit inside you before, and you definitely weren't sure how you were going to fit it in your mouth.

"too much for you, darlin'?" he quipped.

you shot him a look. "wasn't too much a minute ago, was it?"

you didn't let him respond. you licked the palm of your hand — throwing manners to the wind — and wrapped your hand around the tip and the top of the shaft. you made circular, stroking motions at the top and licked a stripe, like he did to you, up his shaft.

that shut him up.

a long and drawn out fuuuck had left his lips.

you shouldn't've — you knew you shouldn't've.

but you did anyway.

you started to kitten lick at his balls, and you could feel him shift from above you. hot and heavy groans were leaving his lips, to the point where he was incoherent. now that you had found his sweet spot, you'd never let go. just like he didn't.

"fuck, you are naughty," he rasped, voice dry and cracked. "my naughty girl. so good f'me."

you hummed as you wrapped your lips around the skin of his balls. they were warm and salty, and you relished in the taste. billy placed a heavy palm on the back of your head. you realized then and there he was foreign to giving up control — usually you'd give in, but not now. not when he was teasing you before.

you replaced your hand with your lips, and brought him down as far as you could.

from the corner of your eye, you spotted him beginning to fist the sheets.

tears were springing to your eyes, but you didn't care. you wanted to — had to keep going. you wanted this so badly — to take care of him. you needed this, and if he wanted it, too — he was going to give it to you.

you began to bob your head up and down, taking care to mind your gag reflex and teeth. the slurping sounds from your mouth were obscene — as was the drool falling from your lips, down your cheek, and along the skin of your raw neck.

both of billy's hands were on the back of your head now, giving you slightest — almost ghost like — push down. you welcomed it, hoping to show him you could take him far, farther than he thought you could handle.

above, he was going crazy. fucking nuts. his entire body was hot and on fire, and it took every ounce of him to not drag you back up into his lap and impale you on his cock. however... his muscles were tired, and his sweet girl looked so perfect on her knees before him, and who was he to deny her what she wanted so badly — what she earned?

he'd never tell you — but he wanted you to have it more than you wanted it yourself. he wanted you to know that he only felt comfortable enough with you to be in such a vulnerable position like this — pretty woman, teeth so close to his jewels. he wanted you to know that you were setting every nerve, vein, blood vessel on absolute fucking fire with the way your silky tongue slid down the length of his shaft, and the way your tight, warm throat enclosed around his sensitive cock... he wanted you to know how much he adored you, and how much he wanted to give you everything you had ever wanted.

"fuck, sweetheart —" he bit. "I'm so close — you better — pull off —"

"too much for you, cowboy?" she only pulled off for a second, before she put him into the deepest parts of her throat.

the way you teased him set a raw set of anger and adoration through this veins, and he didn't know what to do with it. he was so weak, tired, spent, and fucking horny — he couldn't move, think, or fight back. all he wanted was to cum down this sweet girl's throat and make her his.

"that's it, baby, fuck —" he spat through gritted teeth, the hands on the back of your head encouraging your movements. "right there, right there — fuck."

you held your place, keeping a few inches of him in your mouth. his thick cock throbbed a few times before ropes of white decorated the walls of your throat, and you swallowed every last drop. you pumped him a few more times, for good measure — and also to get back at him for earlier.

"don't be mean to me, baby —" he whined. "come up and lay with me."

you giggled, crawling up the bed to lay next to him.

"gonna tell me how that was?" you asked. "or too proud?"

he chuckled then. his post orgasm glow was so beautiful... for the first time, william h. bonney didn't have a permanent from embedded in his brow. he looked so... peaceful.

"not too proud to admit that was the best I've ever had in my life," he laughed, letting his eyes close. you trailed a hand up and down the soft skin of his chest and stomach before curling up next to him. "going to be proud after i take you to the courthouse tomorrow and make you my wife."

you scoffed at that. "i didn't think cowboys were the settling down type."

"they're not — but i'm no cowboy, sweetheart," he rasped, turning to look at you. "you're it for me — if you'll have me, that is."

you smiled then. a real smile. the type of smile that gave billy hope.

"on one condition," you spoke.

his eyebrows furrowed, but he nodded his head anyway.

"you'll ask me for real in the morning, mr. bonney."

"i'll give you anything you want, mrs. bonney — as long as you're mine."

---

what did we think?? xox

-L

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

So you mentioned something about Black Mask having a master/sub relationship 24/7, what would that entail? Also do you have any aftercare HCs? ❤️

"All day, all night, Seven Days a Week" Black Mask x Reader

There is an irony that is not lost on me that after being unable to get the Black Mask bot on character.ai working that the next ask was for good old Roman. I'm trying to give people content and I will not be stopped this time.

TW: 🔞master/sub dynamics, bdsm dynamics, nsfw, degradation

You want to do this? He's going to be clear with you, this is not a half-ass measure. Despite any impressions he might give about not being shy to fuck, this is serious. If you agree to this, the two of you are in it. You are his. Of course if it doesn't work out, it's fine, he's not a creep that will force anything- But he'll be pissed like no other if it's for a moronic reason like a lack of effort or trying.

There are multiple long conversations. It might even seem excessive, but he intends to make sure this is done right. This is also your time to speak out. You don't like certain kinks or things bother you, you say it. It's the time for discussion.

When that's all out of the way, it's time for rules and the fun. When you're out and about, you need a collar on that neck. If that's too irritating sensory-wise, he'll get you jewelry that's more suitable. It's all about the marking. It's about people knowing that you're his sub. Be happy he doesn't decide to put a damn leash on.

On that note, he's going to fuck with you in public. Just skirting decency laws. Sometimes he will also pay people off if it does go a little too far. Cock-warming during meetings, you curled in his lap- not allowed to move but he certainly will here and there. Just to make sure you're not falling asleep. Important business to pay attention to! Then he'll scold you if you're not quiet.

You're going to dress how he wants you to dress and be draped over the bed, ass up when he tells you he's getting home. He gets worked up when you're not around and he needs to relieve himself somehow. Hand on your back or in your hair, fucking you senseless into the mattress while he tells you how well you take his cock. Tell him how much you like it and he'll have several degrading pet names he'll call you. Of course you love it. What other purpose do you serve other than being a cute hole to fuck? You're lucky he loves how he fits inside you best.

There are little things. Sometimes he just wants you to open your lips and have you suck on his fingers. Maybe if you do a good job, he'll let you blow him! Of course he'll make sure to tap his cock against your mouth first. Video of you getting off if he's out of town on demand.

Treats you well outside of sex. You don't have to work unless you want to. You have almost unlimited funds for what-ever your dirty black heart desires (just buy some lingerie to surprise him every once in a while). If you end up trying something that you dislike during sex, the two of you will write it out, doesn't matter if he likes it. He's also understanding if some days it's just not a good time. You're both adults and fantasy isn't always ideal.

If he decides you need to learn a little more control, you're not allowed to touch yourself. If you just happen to think that's way too difficult to manage for a hedonistic little slut like yourself, he's more than happy to get a chastity device. This is usually reserved for a punishment when he really wants you to squirm and think about what you've done.

Speaking of punishments, let's get into it. Previously stated, man doesn't have the patience for brats. What's the fucking point of making rules if you just want to break them? A little tug of war is fine, but a constant tantrum? Fuck that. This also has nothing to do with his control issues. Not at all. Don't even think that thought.

He will dance on that edge of too much without going over. There's no jokes about the paddles he uses, honey. They get maximum airtime and sting like nothing else. Overstimulate you until you're in tears. Watch you dangle from ropes while he sits with a glass of wine, edge you with a toy. He's big on reactions. Gags are fun if he thinks he can get you drooling over it, but that's about it.

Conversely, when you're his good, sweet boy/girl/heart, he rewards well. You'll be seated in a chair, hands on the arms while his tongue lolls out of his mask to taste between your thighs. That's it, let him find all those sweet spots to make you shiver and come undone. Those dark eyes pierce into you throughout. He wants to see you loving it. And you better say thanks afterwards.

ALRIGHT AFTERCARE.

He is. Not the best at it, actually. Roman is not a very warm man. Yes, he has moments of vulnerability where he can be soft, however- this is the exception not the rule. He does the basics. You know. "Do you need anything?" But anyone who has been in a deep sub space knows, you're not always cognizant of all that post scene.

This is something that he would get better at specifically in a 24/7 situation. Genuinely, as much of a prick as he is, he will learn for your safety and well-being. Water, a bath with epsom salt, comfortable pajamas. He gets some kind of lotion with pain relief in it that he runs over the sore parts of your body. Fancy, high end product.

If you have a conversation with him about what you, personally, tend to need or want after, he'll do his best to abide by it. He might even cuddle with you after if you just tell him.

[toonqueen]

Duckvember Day 25: Maniacal Duck

I guess for this I’ll discuss how I view the Negaverse and some Negaverser headcanons. One thing I do go by when creating Negaverser OCs is that the negaverse isn’t complete opposite of the primeverse. Both Darkwing and Negaduck have big egos so THERE’S THAT. Also I see both Gosalyns as being good aliments.

Now Negaduck canon in his universe he was able to send out a message to all of St. Canard to be on the lookout for Darkwing in the ep ‘Life, the Negavers, and Everthing.’ Also, the nega-muddlefoots obviously respected him as Negaduck was the leader. So he obviously rules at least St. Canard there and people take orders from him. This then leads me to headcanon some things about Duckburg as well.

While Negaduck’s wild mad max St. Canard people seem to have some sort of freedom (and birthday parties) I see Duckburg being strictly controlled by Scrooge. In a no crime no freedom Darkwarrior Duck kind of way. Nega-Gizmo would be the silent loyal enforcer of Scrooge’s law. Nega Scrooge is like a mafia boss holding a tight leash and high taxes on everyone that lives there.  

Scrooge used to have a hold on St. Canard too, but Negaduck in his late teens had a quick rise to power and made it his own. And Negaduck doesn’t really enforce any laws there, making it more ‘free’ in some ways. This sets up Negaduck to be the lesser of two evils. While He is a jerk to Darkwiong and the primeverse, he’s still the hero of his own Nega St. Canard where it's better to live there than Nega Duckburg. 

So with my headcanon for Negaverse Gladstone I did kinda the same thing. That he’s a terror to Gladstone (at first) but in the Negaverse he’s kinda a ‘good’ guy. Him and Nega Magica are like the couple in The Conjuring. Dealing with supernatural stuff that could make their world worse and stopping that stuff. Also talking shit to Macawbers is part of that job title too, of course. Nega Magica also the fluffy dress being sweet type inspired by Nega Gos. Though see gots a spikey center to her. Oh boy. 

ANYWAYS I like the concept of someone being a complete jerk ass but go to their home town and they’re a hero. Ha.

[sugarbundust]

updates; blurb; semi-rant

ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ At the home-stretch! Wanted to try to post early, but the last few days have been a bit chaotic.

tl;dr til next bold point - Money issues, and a random ass deer deciding it wants to live rent-free in my yard lmao

So many job interviews while being on/off sick, and then got sent bills for additional things we didn’t anticipate having to deal with (like a giant tree in our front yard the township decided it wants to cut down, but the law in our State is we have to pay??? I’m;??;). So I had to try and sell a bunch of things for quick cash, because they won’t work with us for a payment plan.

Goodbye special edition Pokémon Nintendo Switch, and majority of our games and manga. 😑 (Also why are these town services so expensive????) 

I’m incredibly salty. I keep telling myself it’s only monetary goods we can rebuy when we’re not hurting financially, but it’s still upsetting. I hate having to sell stuff. Our savings are pretty much depleted by now, so that’s a looming cloud that’s just the best. /s 

Got some positive news about one potential source of income, though, so knocking on wood that that works out. 🤞🏻

Then today we found out a pregnant deer somehow got into our gated backyard and had a baby, and it was in the middle of a rain storm so bad you could barely see. 😵‍💫 

For context, I live in a town. Deer like this don’t ever wander around here. I can count on a single hand the amount of times I’ve seen them (and never in our yard!). They’re way, way more common farther up by the river, which is like a half-hour drive, so I guess it wandered and got lost? They just... they don’t live here lmao it’s too many people/cars, no shelter or trees for them to hide, etc.

And I don’t say all that because I’m enamored by the fact that they exist—I’m actually very used to deer being around, due to living in areas where they’re far more common. They would run in huge herds through my parents’ property when growing up, along with bear and the like. 

It was just super weird to see one at random when our gates are too tall for them to normally jump???? Like, we don’t even know how she got in?? The baby deer couldn’t get out on its own, we had to help them both leave and stay united, and also panic that they don’t go running into a street with cars. @w@

So that was fantastic way to start the day, being in the heavy rain with a dog that I had to walk, and being surprised by and then advanced on by an angry/panicked mother deer. I don’t need to be trampled lmao and right after I woke up, sans coffee 😂 It was a good thing I had my dog on a leash for all parties involved lmao 

It’s one of those weeks where it’s like, what else can happen?

Also, for those wondering, yes, both deer are fine. 

Now, the positives! Got a lot of editing done last night. Went through over half of the chapter, making it more coherent and trimming fat. Only a small chunk left to go, and then I can post and start drafting the next chapter. Got a bunch of ideas for that, but I’m trying to figure out how far I can stretch things before the fighting/action-scenes begin again. I don’t want to have another mini arc turn into a full-blown ten chapter episode (thank you again, Shinsou). 😂 But there are a few things I want to touch on before we get to the 1-VS-1s. I hope it will be entertaining!

Also had to redo my embedded blockquotes all over again (Thank you AO3 for not following my inputted HTML every time I Save Draft.) lol, so I’m really hoping mobile-readers are going to be okay 🥲  It’s actually worse than the chapter with Aizawa’s learned packet breakdown. OTL If it’s not easily legible when posted, I sincerely apologize!! I tried for a ridiculously long time to make it work 😭 

I’m not going to do deep-set blockquotes going forward. This was it lmao. I understand now why most people just create graphics and embed them into their work 😭💀 Rich Text to HTML conversion was hard enough already. (Why did I make so much more work for myself? lol I always seem to do this. 😂)

But alas. Gonna try to finish tonight! ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ I hope it will be worth it! ❤️

[wistfulcynic]

The Meet-Cute, Part One

In which Ruby decides that what Emma’s love life needs is a good old-fashioned meet-cute, and sets about arranging one for her. Or two, or three, or six...whatever, she’ll set up however many it takes for her friend to meet The One. But it may turn out that Emma doesn’t need any help finding The One after all...

Rating: T Words: 5.2k (first chapter)

On AO3

-

LOOK @optomisticgirl I WROTE THE THING.

Also, @ohmightydevviepuu, @shireness-says, and @distant-rose you are complicit in the writing of the thing.

-

PART ONE:

“What you need, Emma Swan, is a meet-cute.”

Emma swallowed a sigh but couldn’t hold back the accompanying eye-roll. “I’m pretty sure that’s the last thing I need.”

“No, hear me out,” Ruby insisted, her eyes alight with excitement. “This is actually perfect for you.”

Emma let the sigh go this time, reminding herself firmly that Ruby was her best friend and had been for years.

“All right,” she said. “Tell me why I need a meet-cute.”

“Yesssss,” said Ruby. “Okay, listen. There’s nobody at work you’re interested in dating, right?”

“My co-worker is literally my brother.”

“Yeah that’s kind of what I meant. Most people meet their future spouses at work—”

“That’s not a real statistic.”

“—but—yes, it is real—but there’s no one at work for you and that’s not likely to change, so you have to look elsewhere. Now, the next most common place to meet someone is where you live—

“Seriously, you’re just making this stuff up.”

“—but there’s no one for you there, either,” Ruby pressed on, ignoring her. “No cute guys across the hall—“

“No straight ones anyway.”

“—and seeing as you are for some strange reason dead-set against online dating—”

“I absolutely am.” Emma shuddered at the hideous thought.

“—which actually does work, by the way.”

“It doesn’t. You and Mulan are just outliers.”

“Look, Emma, don’t knock the matchmaking power of Good Omens Discord chats until you try them.”

“Yeah, no thanks.”

“Well then,” Ruby declared, in a voice that suggested she thought she’d won the argument. “That leaves you with no option but the meet-cute.”

“Really, that’s my only option?”

“Just think about it, Emma.” Ruby’s eyes grew dreamy. “Adorable mix-ups in coffee shops… picking up the wrong leash at the dog park…”

“I don’t have a dog.”

“…you both reach for the last croissant…”

“Where am I going to find a croissant in Storybrooke?”

“The last bear claw then, the pastry is really beside the point.”

“And what is the point?”

“The point is that you meet someone and it’s fucking cute, okay? And then you fall in love and live happily ever after.”

“Or I could just, you know, go on as I am, not meeting anyone.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, woman,” said Ruby sternly. “Do you want to live the rest of your life alone?”

Emma shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing.” Better than being stuck with someone she didn’t love, just for some dumb reason like—

“Do you want Henry to grow up without a father?”  

—like giving her son a decent man in his life.

“Henry has a father,” she reminded Ruby. One he hadn’t seen for the best part of a year, but still.  

“Do you want Henry to grow up without a father figure who isn’t a massive douche?” amended Ruby. Emma sighed again.

“Neal does the best he can,” she insisted.

Ruby snorted. “Sure he does.”

“He does, really. He’s just… not cut out to be a parent.”

“Well, that’s for sure.”

But Emma didn’t blame Neal for being a shit dad, though she knew her friends and family did. It wasn’t his fault it was hers, for stupidly falling for and getting knocked up by a guy whose ‘best’ was showing up once or twice a year to shower Henry with presents and promises before disappearing again without a word a few weeks later. At first it had broken both their hearts—Henry’s from disappointment and Emma’s from anger and guilt over his disappointment—but Henry was twelve now and starting to learn that the parents he adored were human and flawed, and to adjust his expectations accordingly. Emma had to admit that it was a relief not to have to cover Neal’s ass anymore by trying to make excuses for him, however deeply she regretted Henry’s loss of innocence.

And yeah, it would be nice not to have to raise her kid alone. Neal got to be the fun parent, buying Henry all the stuff she couldn’t afford and taking him on trips to exciting places, leaving Emma to enforce bedtimes and check homework and try to make Henry eat the vegetables she herself hated. Having someone else around, a real adult she could rely on to share those responsibilities with her, that would be good. Great, really. Wonderful, in fact. But dating was hard enough without having to start it off by explaining that even though you yourself weren’t yet thirty you came in a two-for-one deal with a near-teenager, and Emma had had far too many first dates end early and awkwardly to hold out much hope that she would ever meet the man of her dreams, be it cute or any other way.

“I appreciate the thought, Rubes, I really do,” she said. “But I’m just not looking for anyone right now.”

“But don’t you see?” Ruby cried. “That’s the best time to meet someone—when you’re not looking.”

Emma threw up her hands. “You are impossible and I’m not talking about this with you anymore. I’ve got to get back to work anyway.”

“All right.” Ruby shrugged and let the subject drop, but the glint that still remained in her eye warned Emma that this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

—

Before she returned to work after her lunch with Ruby, Emma stopped by the library. Belle wasn’t at her usual spot behind the desk so Emma ventured into the stacks on her own, in search of some books that would help Henry with his school project on the solar system. She was standing in the astronomy section with her hands shoved into the back pockets of her jeans, frowning at the frankly baffling array of options when a voice spoke just to her left.

“Can I help you find something?” it said.

Emma turned with a smile that stalled abruptly as her mouth dropped open. “Um,” she said, blinking in confusion at the blue eyes and dark hair that very definitely did not belong to Belle, and the bright smile that took her breath away. “I actually could use some help, but—sorry, but do you work here?”

The owner of the voice—and the hair and the eyes—laughed. “I do, for the moment at least.”

“Did something happen to Belle?”

“To her grandfather, apparently,” he replied. “I’m not sure of the details but Belle told me she had to go back to Australia for family reasons.”

“Oh. I didn’t hear anything about that.”

The man’s eyebrow twitched in a small frown. “Well, it was quite at the last minute, so she probably didn’t have time to tell everyone. But I’d spoken to her recently and mentioned I was looking for a quiet place to spend a few weeks’ holiday and so when she asked if I could come here and cover for her for a while, I gladly agreed.”

“And why would she call you?” Emma nearly flinched at the harshness in her tone but the man’s smile widened and his eyes twinkled, sucking even more air from her lungs.

“We’re old friends from library school,” he explained, as Emma struggled for breath. “My name’s Killian Jones.”

His smile began to crumble as Emma just stood and stared at him, until she managed to shake herself out of her breathless haze and smile back. “Emma  Swan,” she said. “I’m the town sheriff.”

“Ah.” Killian’s grin brightened again, and Emma thought vaguely that he should really have a licence for that thing. “That explains all the questions.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. We don’t get many new faces in Storybrooke and, well—”

“Aye, of course, you can’t be too careful.”

“Um, right. Exactly.”

“Well, Sheriff Swan,” said Killian, with an absurd little waggle of his eyebrows, “I can assure you that haven’t broken any laws, but then I did only arrive in town last night so there’s still plenty of time.”

Emma laughed. She couldn’t help it, his goofy humour and ridiculous eyebrows were too charming. “But if you broke the law I’d have to lock you up,” she replied, and fucking hell was she flirting with him?

He seemed to think so, if the way his eyes glinted as he leaned in closer was any indication. “I might not mind being locked up, if you promised to stay and guard me,” he murmured.

Emma’s breath caught again at the look in his eyes, the edge of danger behind the flirty charm. “Do you talk like this to all library patrons?” she asked, cursing the raspiness in her voice.

“Definitely not. It’s highly unprofessional, but then there’s not much else I can say when you still haven’t answered my question.”

She swallowed hard. “Wh—what question?”

“Can I help you find anything?”

“Oh.” Duh, Emma. “Um, yeah, actually. My son has to do a project on the solar system, so I’m looking for some books he could use.”

She waited for Killian to freeze up, to awkwardly withdraw from her now that he knew she had a kid. But he simply nodded and asked “How old is your lad?”

“Ah, he’s twelve. Sixth grade.”

“Hmmm, in that case I’d recommend this one.” He reached over her shoulder to take a book from the shelf, giving Emma a whiff of some spicy cologne and a briny scent like he’d been out on the sea. Her knees went weak, and when he held out the book she stared blankly at it, trying to marshal her scrambled thoughts back into some kind of order. “It’s an excellent overview of the solar system with plenty of details on all the planets,” Killian explained, “but the language is accessible for someone your boy’s age.” His eyebrows rose again in an expectant look.

“Um. That looks great, thanks.”

“See how he gets on with it, and if he needs more information I’d be happy to make another recommendation.”  

Emma nodded and followed him to the check-out desk, wordlessly handing him her card and watching as he completed the process of checking out the book. When he finished he tucked a bookmark between the pages and handed it to her with another warm smile.

“Well, Emma Swan, it’s been lovely talking to you,” he said. “I hope it won’t be a one-time thing.”

“I—I’m in here a lot,” she replied. It was only a slight exaggeration. Henry was in the library a lot and she often came to pick him up. “So I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

For the third time in fifteen minutes Killian Jones stole her breath with his smile. “I’m looking forward to it already,” he said.

—

The next morning Emma was at Granny’s waiting in line for coffee when out of nowhere someone gave her a hard shove, knocking her into the man in front of her, who had just accepted his cup from Ruby.

“Oh my God!” she cried. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened!”

“It’s okay,” said the man with a tight smile, shaking droplets of coffee off his hand as Ruby’s eyes grew comically wide.

“Oh, no,” she said. “What a terrible accident. Let me get you another cup, sir.”

“Thanks,” said the man, and Emma’s own eyes nearly rolled clean from her head. Ruby was known for her lack of subtlety but this was ridiculous, even for her. Emma glanced over her shoulder just in time to spot the tip of Mulan’s braid just disappearing through the door.

“So,” the man was saying to Ruby when Emma returned her attention to him, leaning on the counter and giving her a crooked grin. “You come here often?”

“Every day,” said Ruby dryly. “I work here. But maybe you’d like to ask Emma that question.”

The man’s pale blue eyes flitted to Emma, then rapidly away. “I’d rather ask you.”

Ruby gave a frustrated huff. “Here’s your coffee.” She thrust the new cup at the man and turned her back.

“What’s her problem?” the man muttered.

“I don’t know,” snapped Emma, “maybe you should ask her wife.” The man’s eyes widened in alarm at the look on her face and he backed away, slowly edging towards the door.

“Have a great day,” she called after him, then turned to her best friend as the man fled the diner.

“I hope you’re happy,” she hissed.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Ruby asked, the picture of innocence. Emma rolled her eyes.

“I’m guessing this was your attempt at a coffee shop meet-cute? I spill the man’s coffee, apologise profusely, he laughs it off. I offer to buy him another cup, he refuses but asks me to dinner instead? Was that the idea?”

“...maybe.”

“And you see how well it turned out?”

“He was clearly just not The One,” said Ruby stubbornly.

“There is no ‘The One’ Rubes, that is a myth, and I cannot believe you roped Mulan into this nonsense too.”

“I didn’t rope her in, she volunteered! We both want you to be happy, Emma.”

“And you think dumping coffee on the world’s creepiest doctor will make me happy?”

“What? Have you met him before?”

“Yeah. Last year when Henry broke his arm. You’ll be pleased to hear that he tried to hit on me then. Right in front of my kid.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Meet-cutes only work in romcoms and fanfics, Ruby. Here in reality they just piss people off.”

“Well,” said Ruby, handing Emma her coffee, determination clear in the set of her jaw. “We’ll see about that.”

—

Emma: What do you want for dinner?

Henry: What have we got?

Emma: Nothing, that’s why I’m asking. I can stop at the store on the way home.

Henry: I suppose pizza isn’t an option?

Emma: We had that yesterday.

Henry: Not a problem for me. But chicken or something would be okay too.

Emma: One of those rotisserie chickens?

Henry: Yeah, sounds good.

Emma: Okay, kid. See you at home.

Emma was standing in the grocery store, frowning as she compared the rotisserie chickens when a voice spoke just to her left.

“I don’t think there’s much of a difference between them, love.”

Her heart leapt and her skin tingled, and yet when she turned to face Killian Jones—and his damned smile—she was still not prepared.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly. “I, um, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“No reason why you should, I guess, except that I like all people do need to eat from time to time.”

“Of course.” She felt foolish, but his expression was warm and only slightly teasing.

“How did your son get on with the book?” he asked.

“Really well! He read for like two hours last night. Thanks for the recommendation.”

“Any time.”

They stood grinning at each other until someone behind them cleared his throat and they both gave a little start. Killian rubbed the back of his neck as he moved aside to allow Mr Clark to select a chicken.

“So, um,” said Emma after he’d left. “Are you getting stuff for dinner?”

“Aye. I’m staying in the apartment above the library and this morning I discovered that the oven doesn’t work, and the repairman can't come until tomorrow. So I need something that comes pre-cooked. Hence rotisserie chicken.”

“Solid plan,” said Emma, though she felt sad thinking of this lovely man eating dinner alone in that tiny apartment, and that was the only reason that she blurted out “But, ah, why don’t you come over and eat with Henry and me?”

“Oh.” Killian blinked in surprise.

“Since we’re both having the same thing it makes sense not to waste a chicken,” Emma barrelled on. “When Henry and I get one we’ve always got leftovers, so… I mean, you don’t have to if you’d rather not—”

“No, no. I mean, yes! Yes, I’d like that.”

“Oh. Um, good.”

He smiled again, bright as always but with a hint of shyness that caught her off guard. “Is it, ah, just the two of you?” he asked. “Presuming Henry is your son, that is?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “His dad’s, um... not in the picture.”

“I see. Well then I would love to share a meal with you, Emma Swan. And your son. And perhaps you would allow me to bring dessert?”

Emma’s heart was pounding so loudly now she was sure he must be able to hear it. “That’d be great. Um, here’s my cell number, just at the bottom of this.” She took a business card from her pocket and handed it to him. “Text me and I’ll send you directions to our place. Can you come over about six?”

“Six it is.” Killian slipped the card into his own pocket carefully, as though he didn’t wish to harm it. “I’ll see you then.”

—

Emma finished the rest of her shopping in a daze, wandering haphazardly through the aisles and putting random things in her cart without thinking before giving herself a mental slap and a stern admonition to get a fucking grip. She removed the strawberry syrup from her cart (she and Henry both hated fake strawberry flavour) and the tuna (what the hell had she been thinking?) and then remembered that Henry was nearly out of peanut butter. His favourite kind was the most popular one and the store could hardly keep it stocked, so she was pleased to see that there was one jar left as she approached the shelf. Just as she was reaching for it, though, another hand appeared and snatched it from her grip.

“Hey!” she cried indignantly. “That was mine!”

“Sorry,” said the man who’d taken it. He didn’t look sorry in the slightest. “Maybe they’ve got more in the back?”

“Are you kidding me?” Emma huffed.

“Nope,” the man replied. “Look, I really am sorry but someone needs this peanut butter. She sent me in here to get it specifically.”

Emma hissed her breath out through her teeth. “She did, did she? And did she say why she couldn’t get the damn peanut butter herself?”

“Ah, no,” said the man, frowning warily at her. “She didn’t. But listen, lady it’s just a jar of peanut butter.”

Emma’s lip curled into a snarl and the man’s eyes widened in alarm. He backed away from her, nearly stumbling in his haste. “So, um, I’m going to, ah, go now,” he stuttered. “Bye.”

He turned and fled towards the checkouts with Emma close on his heels. She followed him to the self-checkout line where he kept shooting nervous looks over his shoulder at her and she amused herself by giving him darker and darker glares each time and keeping her eyes fixed on him when he took the jar of peanut butter and ran out the door.

When she arrived at where she’d left her car Emma was entirely unsurprised to find Ruby there, leaning against the hood and looking slightly sheepish.

“So what was the plan this time?” asked Emma. “That we would both reach for the last jar of peanut butter, our fingers would touch, sparks would fly, and we would exchange cute banter with sexually charged undertones ending in a date?”

Ruby nodded. “Something like that.”

“Ruby, I keep telling you, that is not how real life works!”

“Oh yeah?” Ruby challenged. “Well, what about David and Mary Margaret! They had a meet-cute.”

“He mistook her for a burglar and she hit him in the face!”

“Exactly!”

“How is that a meet-cute?”

“How is it not? They met, it was cute, and now they’ve got an amazing story to tell their kids.”

“I met Neal when I tried to steal the car he’d already stolen,” Emma pointed out. “That’s an amazing story and yet our relationship was a fucking dumpster fire that I’d be happy to forget all about if it weren’t for Henry. Not all cute meetings end in happily ever after, and frankly I don’t think a squabble over peanut butter in a small town grocery store is the best way to jump-start true love.”

“And what would you know about true love?” Ruby snapped, then gasped in horror as her eyes went wide and she clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, Emma, I’m so sorry,” she whispered through her fingers. “I didn’t mean it.”

Emma’s chest felt tight. “It’s okay,” she muttered.  

“No, it really isn’t.” Ruby gripped Emma’s hands in hers. “I love you, Ems, and you’re one of the most loving people I know. That’s why I want so badly to see you happy.”

“I know.” Emma nodded and gave Ruby’s hands a squeeze. “I know you didn’t mean to say it.” However true it might be, she thought bitterly.

“Let me make it up to you—”

“Oh my God, please don’t—”

“—with this free jar of peanut butter!” finished Ruby triumphantly. She reached into her bag and removed the jar, offering it up with a flourish.

Emma smiled as she took it. “Thanks. I wasn’t looking forward to telling Henry how someone stole the last jar right out from under me.”

Ruby flashed a grin, then turned solemn. “Are we okay, Emma?” she asked hesitantly. “Truly?”

“Of course we are,” Emma reassured her. “Truly. I do have to get going though I have—uh, Henry will be getting hungry.”

“Of course.” Ruby stepped back to let Emma unlock her car door. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see you.”

As Emma drove home she tried not to think about why she hadn’t told Ruby that Killian was coming for dinner. It might stop her friend’s meet-cute-ing attempts if she knew Emma had a—well, not a date exactly but a man coming over to... well, just to eat really, but still. She could have spun it so it seemed like a date and got Ruby off her back, at least for a while. Yet for some reason Emma wanted to keep Killian just for herself. At least for a while.

—

Killian Jones was punctual and he could follow directions, Emma thought when her doorbell rang that evening at six o’clock precisely. That alone put him head and shoulders above Neal... and what the hell was she doing comparing a man she’d literally met yesterday with her son’s useless father, even just in the privacy of her own head?

She smoothed her hair and the front of her blouse and took a deep breath to calm herself before opening the door, and still she was not prepared for that stupid, gorgeous smile.

“Good evening, Swan,” Killian greeted her. “I come bearing brownies.”

And wine, she couldn’t help noticing as she stepped back to let him in. “Great, uh, brownies are my favourite,” she lied. “Um, Killian, I’d like you to meet my son, Henry.”

Henry came forward with smile on his lips and mild confusion in his eyes. “Hi Killian, nice to meet you.”

“And you, lad. I hope you like brownies as well.”

“I love them,” Henry replied. “Though my mom usually prefers—” he broke off when Emma gave him a Look. “Ah, she prefers hers without nuts.”

“Well, she’s in luck because these are nut-free.”

“Sounds perfect!” said Henry brightly, and Emma didn’t think she’d ever loved him more.

“Let me just take those from you,” she said, relieving Killian of the box of brownies and bottle of wine. “Henry, can you show him into the living room? Oh, and Killian what would you like to drink?”

“Whatever’s easiest, love.”

“Water, soda, beer?”

“Beer would be great.”

“Coming right up.”

Emma fled to the kitchen, doing her best not to look like she was fleeing. Once safety through the door she set the brownies and wine on the counter and desperately drew air into her lungs. She wasn’t going to survive spending much more time with Killian if she didn’t learn to breathe around him, she thought wryly, and also why was she even thinking about spending more time with him—this was nothing but a casual, friendly meal and they had only just met.

“Get a fucking grip, Emma,” she reminded herself firmly, and went to pour some beer.

When she entered the living room a few minutes later Killian and Henry were sitting next to each other on the sofa, deep in discussion about the solar system. Henry had his project notes spread out on the coffee table and Killian was rubbing his chin, listening intently as her son spoke, and Emma’s heart absolutely did not melt at the sight of them. It didn’t.

She set a glass of soda in front of Henry and a beer in front of Killian, who looked up at her with a smile.

“Thanks, love.”

Aaaand there went her breath again, thought Emma. Damn it.

“Ah, I’m just going to go finish up dinner, um, if everything’s okay in here?” she said.

“Aye, I think we’ll be all right.”

“Mom, guess what? Killian knows all about astronomy and he’s going to help me make sure my project’s good!” Henry exclaimed.

“All about astronomy, eh?” teased Emma.

To her astonishment Killian’s cheeks and the tips of his ears turned pink. “A slight exaggeration on the lad’s part,” he said, scratching at a spot just below his ear. “But it is an interest of mine and I’ll do my best to be of some use to him.”

“He’s already helped me with Saturn’s moons, and now we’re gonna talk about the rings on Uranus,” said Henry excitedly. “Did you know Uranus has rings, Mom?”

“I did not,” said Emma, biting her lip as amusement glinted in Killian’s eyes.

“Yep,” Henry continued, oblivious to their mirth. “Just skinny ones, though.”

“I suppose bigger ones wouldn’t fit,” said Emma. A muscle danced in Killian’s jaw as he clenched it tight. Henry frowned.

“Uranus is still pretty big,” he said. “Not as big as Jupiter or Saturn but—hey! Are you guys laughing at Uranus?”

“Of course not, lad,” said Killian. “Uranus isn’t funny at all.”

“It’s very serious actually,” said Emma.

“I certainly take it seriously,” Killian agreed.

Henry glared at them. “You guys realise I’m the twelve-year-old boy, right? If anyone should be making Uranus jokes it’s me.”

“Well you have been letting some excellent joke opportunities slip by you, my boy.”

“Yeah, Henry, we’re just picking up your slack.”

“Much like rings on Uranus might.”

“Oh my God,” Henry groaned, as Emma lost control of her laughter and collapsed onto the sofa. Killian was grinning like a maniac, ridiculously pleased with himself, which only made her laugh harder. Henry held out for nearly a full minute before he started giggling too, then all three of them held their stomachs and roared.

—

Their fit of shared hilarity helped Emma relax, and the dinner ended up being one of the best evenings she’d had in a long time. Killian, as it turned out, had spent several years in the navy before he became a librarian. He had hundreds of stories about his adventures in far-off lands and seemingly endless patience for inquisitive twelve-year-olds who wanted to hear every single one.

Emma sat and ate and listened as Killian regaled her son with his tales, and tried not to think too hard about how simply nice this was. Like the sort of pleasant family meal she’d always dreamed of as a child and regretted that she couldn’t give Henry, and she really needed to stop thinking about Killian like he was an actual part of her life when she’d barely known him for a day. She knew better than that. From bitter experience.

And yet. Killian’s kindness to and interest in Henry was genuine, she was sure of it. There was no hint in his words or actions to suggest that he was trying to use her kid to get to her, or that he was only pretending to care about Henry’s project. Her superpower didn’t even twitch. Every instinct Emma had was screaming that the most sinister thing about Killian Jones was how dangerously attractive she found him. He was just a nice man who knew how to talk to children. A nice, insanely hot man with the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen and a smile that stole all the air from her lungs, who not only didn’t run when he found out about her kid but actually liked him.

Fuck, she thought, as Killian caught her eye and gave her a little half-smile that had her gasping for air. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

—

“Well, thank you for a lovely evening, Swan.” Killian’s hand was on the doorknob but he seemed in no great hurry to leave, and she was equally not eager to see him go. “I had a wonderful time.”

“Me too. And thanks for being so nice to Henry.”

“Your boy is a delight, it was no hardship.”

“Still. It meant a lot to him.” She didn’t mention Neal and Killian didn’t ask, but she had the strangest feeling that they both wished they could.

You only just met him, damn it!

“It was my pleasure,” said Killian, and the way his voice went gruff on the word pleasure set her heart racing and heat blooming across her skin, and when his breath caught and his gaze dropped to her lips she had to force herself to remember that this wasn’t a date and she didn’t actually know this man. But she could tell from the rasp in his throat and the flush on his cheeks that he was feeling the same things she was, that he wanted the same things just as badly, and it would be easy, so easy just to lean in and press her lips to his—

Too easy, and far too risky. Emma gulped and stepped back as Killian gave a shaky exhale, closing his eyes as his Adam’s apple bobbed and Emma shoved her hands hard into her jeans pockets. He opened his eyes and then the door and gave her a brief smile before stepping into the hallway. Emma dug her fingers into her legs and firmly squashed the tiny part of her that wanted to beg him to stay.

“Well, ah, thanks for coming,” she said. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Aye.” He took two steps then stopped and turned back. “Er, perhaps next time you might allow me to provide the meal?” he said hesitantly. “Just for you?”

“Um. What?” said Emma, then immediately wanted to kick herself.

Killian’s nervous expression softened. “Well you see, as much as I enjoyed Henry’s company this evening, I’d very much like to take you out, Emma,” he said. “Just the two of us. On a date.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Aye, really. On Friday, perhaps, if you’re free?”

“Ah, yeah, I can be,” she replied, trying not to sound too eager. “I’ll have to see if I can get someone to watch Henry, but… yeah. I’d like that.”

That breath-stealing smile broke across his face as she knew it would, and yet she still wasn’t ready for it. “It’s a date, then,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something warm.”

“Uh.. okay.”

“And love, if you can’t find someone to look after Henry at such short notice I’d still like to spend the evening with you.” Killian’s face was earnest now. “With both of you, I mean. We’ll just postpone our date until a more convenient time.”

A lump rose in Emma’s throat and for a moment she thought she might cry. “I—that’d be good too. I’ll let you know.”

He nodded. “Good night, then, Swan.”

“Good night.”

—

@katie-dub @thisonesatellite @spartanguard @kmomof4 @stahlop @mariakov81 @teamhook in case you’re interested :)

[winchesterbrotherstan]

SPN- Croatoan (2.09)

🥺🥺🥺

Pairing: Olive Winchester (sister OC)

Summary: After Sam sees something in a vision, the siblings set out. The case tests their bond, and Dean reveals a startling secret

(tbh i think you can tell how much tv i watch based off how i write descriptions LMAO)

Warnings: cursing, blood, uhh it’s a virus so maybe don’t read if current events are freaking you out, death, some shooting, guns, uhh, so much blood, olive growls a lot i felt like a furry writing this, uhh, idk, the usual

Word Count: 6719

I snorted at Dean’s joke as I pushed the motel door open, tossing the keys onto the table by the window. Dean shut it behind me, and Jinx came running, howling and whining. I looked up to see that the room was empty.

“Sam?”

He popped up between the beds, panting. I shoved the bag of beef jerky into Dean’s hands and ran to Sam, kneeling beside him.

“Sammy?”

“Sam?” Dean joined me, eyebrows creased in concern.

“No…”

                                                             ***

“Continue on OR 224 West.”

“There are only two towns in the US named Rivergrove.”

“How come you’re so sure it’s the one in Oregon?” I asked, running my hand through Sam’s hair.

He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. “Uh, there was a picture. Crater Lake.”

“Alright, what else?” I coaxed.

“I saw a dark room, some people. A guy tied to a chair.”

“And I ventilated him?” Dean asked, glancing over and then back at the road.

“Yeah.” Sam nodded. “You thought there was something inside of him.”

“What, a demon? Was he possessed?”

“I don’t know.” Sam whispered.

“It’s okay.” I cooed, hand still in his hair.

My arm was hooked around the back of the bench and I was propped up on my own feet, but playing with each other’s hair was something the three of us always did to calm each other. Jinx was standing on her hind legs and pawing at my hands.

“Well,” Dean sighed. “Your weird-ass visions are always tied to Yellow-Eyes somehow… was there any black smoke? Did we try to exorcise it?”

“No.” Sam shook his head. “Nothing, you just plugged him. That’s it.”

“Well, I’m sure there was a logical explanation.” I shot Dean an anxious look.

“I sure hope so.” Sam mumbled.

“What does that mean?”

Sam said nothing, and I looked at Dean again, chewing at my bottom lip.

“I mean, I’m not gonna waste an innocent man.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up, and I glared at him.

“I wouldn’t!” Dean protested.

“I never said you would!” Sam hissed.

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

“Boys!” I took my hand away from Sam’s hair and sat back down with an angry huff. 

Jinx let out a loud whine, curling up in the backseat.

I sighed. “Cut it out. Look, we don’t know what it is. But whatever it is, that guy in the chair is a part of it. So let’s find him, and let’s see what’s what.”

“Fine.” Dean frowned.

Sam scowled. “Fine.”

                                                              ***

I shivered as we walked across the patchy lawn, toward an older man, who was cleaning his rifle. Jinx pulled on the leash, and Sam cleared his throat as he pulled back. I could barely manage her at this point.

“Morning.” Dean greeted.

“Good morning.” The man set the rifle down. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah.” Dean flashed his badge. “Uh, Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard, Dani Mitchell. U.S. Marshals.”

The man eyed me and then Jinx, and Sam cleared his throat. “She’s a trainee, she’s at the top of her class. This is Jinx.” He motioned to the dog. “She’s also in training.”

“What’s this about?”

“We’re looking for someone.” I spoke, looking up at Sam.

“A young man, early twenties.” He blinked, hard. “Uh, he’d have a, uh, a thin scar right below his hairline.”

“What’d he do?”

“Well, nothing. We’re actually looking for someone else, but we think this young man could help us.”

“He’s not in any sort of trouble or anything.” I eyed the man. “At least not yet.”

Dean’s head tilted ever so slightly, and a small grin flashed over his face. My own lips twitched into a smirk. He had just found us a way in.

“I think maybe you know who he is… Master Sergeant.” He smiled. “My dad was in the Corps. He was a Corporal.”

The man’s face softened. “What company?”

“Echo-2-1.”

Sam and I looked at each other, then back to the man. “So can you help us?”

He hesitated, then sighed. “Duane Tanner’s got a scar like that. But I know him. Good kid, keeps his nose clean.”

“Oh, I’m sure he does.” Dean smiled. “You know where he lives?”

“With his family. Up Aspen Way.” The man pointed.

“Thank you.” Dean nodded his head.

We turned on our heels and started back toward the car. I couldn’t shake the bad feeling in my stomach. I looked over my shoulder, only to see the man staring at us with a nasty glare. I stumbled over a crack in the road, and Dean snatched me back onto my feet.

“You okay, Ol?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Just got a bad feeling.”

Sam was already across the street, staring at something on a telephone pole.

“Sams?”

He waved us over and pointed.

CROATOAN

“What’s that?” Dean frowned.

I huffed. “Roanoke.”

Dean stared blankly.

“Dude. Lost colony? Ring a bell?”

Dean shook his head, and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Did you even pay attention in history class?” I squinted.

“Yeah!” Dean scoffed defensively. “Shots heard round the world, how bills become laws…”

I giggled. “That’s not school, De.”

“That’s Schoolhouse Rock.” Sam scoffed.

Dean rolled his eyes.

“Roanoke was one of the first English colonies in America. What was it, late 1500s?” I looked up at Sam.

“Oh, yeah.” Dean frowned. “Yeah, I do remember that. The only thing they left behind was a single word carved in a tree.”

“Croatoan.”

“Yeah. And I mean, there were all these theories. Indian raid, disease.”

“Nobody knows what happened. They were just gone. Wiped out, overnight.”

“You guys don’t really think that’s what’s going on here… do you?”

I sighed and looked up at the boys. “Sams? What do you think?”

“Whatever I saw, it wasn’t good. But what do you think could do that?”

“I mean, like Dean said, all of your weird-ass visions always have something to do with Yellow Eyes.”

“We should get help.”

“Bobby? Ellen, maybe?”

I shrugged. “I can call Ellen, you call Bobby.”

Dean nodded, fishing his phone out. I dialed Ellen’s number, but the call wouldn’t go through.

I frowned and showed it to the boys. “No signal.”

Sam and Dean shook their heads. They didn’t have any either.

Dean looked around and whacked us each on the arms. “Payphone.”

Dean picked it up and held it out. I stood on my toes to hear. It beeped, the usual out of service beep that came with old phones. The boys looked at each other, and Dean clicked the receiver multiple times.

“Line’s dead.” I sighed.

Dean hung up the phone. “I’ll say one thing, if I were gonna massacre a town, that would be my first step.”

                                                            ***

I shuffled into step behind Sam and Dean as we made our way toward the cabin. I looked around as Dean huffed. We had left Jinx in the car. This looked like the place to get murdered, and we didn’t want her there if that happened.

“I’ve got a bad feeling.” I mumbled.

Sam sighed and knocked on the door. We stared at the tacky sign that read born to fish, forced to work, hung by the door.

“Yeah?” A boy my age opened the door, staring with dead eyes.

I shifted closer to Dean, feeling like I was about to be sick.

Dean flashed his badge. “We’re looking for Duane Tanner. He lives here, right?”

“Yeah, he’s my brother.”

The boys and I shared a look before we turned back to the boy.

“Can we talk to him?”

“Oh, he’s not here right now.”

Dean sighed. “Do you know where he is?”

“Yeah, he went on a fishing trip up by Roslyn Lake.”

“Are your parents home?” Sam squinted.

“Yeah, they’re inside.”

“Jake? Who is it?” Mr. Tanner shuffled out into the doorway, standing by his son.

“Hi, U.S. Marshals, sir. We’re looking for our son, Duane.”

“Wh-why?” Mr. Tanner’s eyes got wide, but he too, looked like there was nothing inside.

I cleared my throat and inched further away, bumping into Dean’s side. His hand landed on my shoulder as Mr. Tanner spoke again.

“He’s not in trouble, is he?”

“No, no, no.” Dean shook his head. “We just need to ask him a couple of routine questions, that’s all.”

“When’s he due back from his trip?” Sam forced a polite smile.

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, maybe your wife knows?” I piped up.

“No, I don’t know.” Mr. Tanner began to stumble over his words. “She’s not here right now.”

“Your son said she was.” My eyes narrowed.

“Did I?”

I couldn’t stop the confused scowl that danced over my face as I looked back at Jake.

“She’s getting groceries. So, when Duane gets back, there’s a number where he can get a hold of you?”

“Oh, no.” Dean shook his head and grabbed my shoulder, pulling me back. “We’ll just check in with you later.”

We turned and walked down the steps. The door slammed shut before we made it back onto the dirt path. Dean turned with a furled lip, and Sam looked uneasy.

“That was creepy.”

“Yeah. A little too Stepford?” Dean offered.

“Big time.” Sam agreed.

We looked around, noticing that these people had no neighbors within at least a mile. Dean and Sam shared a look, and I caught Dean’s eye, nodding.

“Stay behind me.” He ordered as he pulled his gun out.

Sam and I followed suit, leaving me, as usual, sandwiched between the two. Dean led the way, sneaking around to the back of the house. Dean cleared his throat before setting himself up. I flinched as he kicked the back door down. We rushed in, guns raised.

Tanner came at us with a knife, but Dean reacted faster, shooting him at least three times, shredding his chest to pieces. The boy jumped through the window, leaving glass shards as he darted off into the woods. I lined up my shot, but before I could pull the trigger, Sam knocked my gun from my hands. I jumped with a squeak, and Dean was immediately at our sides. He pulled me into his chest and stared at Sam, panting.

                                                            ***

Sam helped Beverly out of the backseat as Dean and I popped the trunk, eyes darting around every few seconds. The wind howled, and I jumped, growling back. Jinx was standing by my side, a similar growl leaving her mouth.

Dean sighed as he grabbed my arm. “You’re okay. Come on.”

I slammed the trunk shut as Dean grunted, shuffling under the weight of Tanner’s dead body. I walked two steps ahead of him, pushing the door of the clinic open and holding it for him. We walked down the hall, apprehensive as we turned the corner and rounded into a room. Jinx ran straight into Sam, who squatted and patted her head.

“Is that…”

“Mr. Tanner.” Dean cut the woman in the white coat off.

“Was he attacked too?”

“Uh… no, actually.” I sighed. “He did the attacking and got himself shot.”

“Shot?” She repeated.

“Yeah.”

“Who are you?”

“U.S. Marshals.” I flashed my badge.

“Oh. Bring him back here.” The doctor beckoned for us to follow.

                                                            ***

I watched, leg bouncing up and down as Dr. Lee helped Beverly with her wound.

“Wait, you said Jake helped him? Your son Jake?”

Beverly nodded. “They beat me. Tied me up.”

“I…” The secretary, Pam, sighed. “I don’t believe it.”

“Pam.” Dr. Lee warned. “Beverly… do you have any idea why they would act this way? Any history of chemical dependency?”

“No, of course not!” Beverly shook her head. “I don’t know why! One minute they were my husband and son.” She sniffled. “And the next, they had the devil in them.”

My eyes widened and I looked up at Dean. He shot the same look back before nodding at Sam, then jerking his head to the side over his shoulder.

“Those guys were absolutely fucked.” Dean whispered.

“What do you think? Multiple demons? Mass possession?”

“If it is a possession, there could be more. I mean, fuck knows how many. Could be like a fucking Shriner convention.”

“Great.” I sighed.

“Of course, that’s one way to wipe out a town. Take it from the inside.”

“I don’t know, man. We didn’t see any demon smoke, or any of our other usual cues.”

“Well, whatever.” Dean scowled.

“Something turned him into a monster, Sams.”

“And you know, if you would’ve let Olive take care of the other one, there’d be one less to worry about.”

“I’m sorry, alright! Dean, it was a kid!”

“No, it was an it. Not the best time for a bleeding heart, Sammy.” Dean scoffed.

Dr. Lee came out of the room, heels clicking loudly. The three of us whipped around, clearing out throats.

“How’s the patient?”

“Terrible!” Dr. Lee sighed. “What the hell happened out there?”

“We don’t know.” Dean told the truth.

“Yeah? Well, you just killed my next door neighbor.”

“We didn’t have a choice.”

“Maybe so… but we need the county Sheriff. I need the coroner.”

“Phones are down.” I shook my head.

“I know, I tried. Tell me you have a police radio in the car?”

“We do. But it’s fried, just like everything else.”

Dr. Lee sighed. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”

“How far is it the next town?” Dean looked up, thinking.

“It’s about forty miles down to Sidewinder.”

Dean nodded. “Alright. We’ll go down there, see if we can find some help.” He looked down at me, then clapped Sam’s shoulder. “Sam here’ll stick around, keep you guys safe.”

“Safe from what?” Dr. Lee squinted.

“We’ll get back to you on that.”

                                                            ***

“What the fuck?” I mumbled as Dean stopped the car.

The Oregon plates on the totalled car read WTF 4C7. We shared a look, and I huffed. He tucked his gun into his waistband, and I did the same. We got out of the car and gave each other another look.

Watch each other’s backs.

He took the lead as we stalked toward the SUV. The windows were smashed. I flinched as we circled the car. The seats were covered in blood, and the baby seat in the back was drenched. I shuddered and looked over to the other side of the car. Dean was nowhere to be seen.

My gun immediately went back up and I bared my fangs, letting the stream of blood fall down my chin. I slowly made my way around the front of the car, hands shaking.

“Shit.”

I huffed as I recognized Dean’s voice. I swung around to face the driver’s door. Dean eyed me from his spot on the ground, a bloody bowie knife in his hand. I let my gun go slack as I sighed, and he stood, dropping the gun.

“Did you see all that blood?” I asked, shivering.

“Yeah. Something’s wrong. Let’s go.”

                                                            ***

“Oh, son of a bitch.” Dean groaned as he pumped the brakes.

I sighed as he stopped the car. The bridge out of town was blocked by trucks and SUVs, and there were six or seven guys with rifles circling around. Dean looked over at me, and there was a thump on the roof of the car. Dean jumped, and I snarled. Dean’s hand slapped over my mouth as a man leaned in through Dean’s window.

“Oh, hey, hi.” Dean stuttered.

“Sorry. Road’s closed.”

“Yeah, we can see that.” I spat, shoving Dean’s hand away.

He shot me a glare and turned back with a smile. “What’s up?”

“Quarantine.” The man eyed me.

“Quarantine? What is it?”

“Don’t know. Something’s going around out there.” The man kept his eyes on me.

“Uh huh.” Dean shifted, blocking me from his view. “Who told you that?”

“County Sheriff.”

“Is he here?” Dean asked.

“No. He called.” The man looked around Dean, eyes locking back on me.

I grabbed a fistful of Dean’s jacket. The sheriff couldn’t have called. The phones were still down.

“Say, why don’t you get out of the car and we’ll talk a little?”

Dean chuckled, nervous. “Well, you are a handsome devil, but I’m on the clock here.”

“I’d sure appreciate it if you got out of the car. Just for a quick minute.”

“Yeah.” Dean’s arms tightened on the wheel, and I reached for the gear knob. “I’ll bet you would.”

I pulled it into reverse and Dean swung the car around. The man reached in and grabbed Dean by the collar before we could take off. The men at the roadblock began to shoot, and Dean gunned it, swerving the car and shaking the man off. I panted as we drove off.

                                                            ***

“What the fuck is going on?” I hissed.

“I don’t know, pumpkin.” Dean sighed. “Can you control yourself right now?”

I sighed. “Barely. If I get spooked one more time I might snap.”

“I’m right here. Okay?”

I nodded as he gave me a soft smile. I glanced back at the road and yelped.

“Dean, stop!”

Dean slammed the brakes as Mark stepped into the middle of the road, rifle aimed at us.

“Hands where I can see them!”

“Son of a-”

“Get out of the car!” Mark screamed. “Out!”

I kept my mouth shut, but I couldn’t help the low growl that was beginning to rumble in my throat. Dean eyed me as he pushed his door open.

“Okay. It’s okay. We’re okay. Easy there, big guy.”

Mark’s eyes flickered to me, and that was all Dean needed to whip out his gun. “Alright, put it down!”

“Lower it now!” Mark shouted back.

“Put it down!”

“Are you one of them?” Mark stalked closer.

“No! Are you?” Dean inched closer to me.

“No!”

“He could be lying, Dean.”

“So could you!”

“Alright!” Dean huffed. “Alright. We could do this all day, alright? Let’s just… let’s take it easy before we try to kill each other.”

Mark sighed and lowered his gun. Dean did the same, and I shuffled into his side, swallowing the blood in my mouth.

“What’s going on with everybody?”

Dean shook his head. “We don’t know.”

“My neighbor… Mr. Rogers, he-”

I snorted, and Dean blinked. “You’ve got a neighbor named Mr. Rogers?”

“Not anymore.”

Dean and I shared a look, and I held back a laugh.

“He came at me with a hatchet. I put him down. He’s not the only one. It’s happening to everyone.”

Dean nodded. “Look, we’re heading out to the doc’s place. There’s still some people left.”

“No. No way. I’m getting the hell out.”

“There’s no way out.” I snorted. “They’ve got the bridge covered.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Dean shrugged. “Fine. Stay here. Be our guest.”

Mark eyed us and sighed. He put his rifle down and pulled a handgun out, warily pointing it at Dean. I took Dean’s from his hand and pointed it at Mark as we shuffled toward the car.

“Get in the back.” I motioned with the gun.

He slid into the back, the gun still pointed at Dean. I sat sideways in the passenger seat and kept Dean’s gun trained on his head.

“Well…” Dean huffed as he shut the door and started the car. This oughta be a relaxing drive.”

                                                            ***

I was stuck to Dean’s side, gun still on Mark. He kept his on Dean, and I was growing increasingly angrier.

“Sammy!” Dean pounded on the door. “Open up!”

The door swung open, and I heard Sam stumble for words. “Did you guys, uh… get to a phone?”

“Road’s blocked.” I didn’t turn to him.

“We’re gonna have a word. Doc’s inside.” Dean spoke to Mark, pulling me along with him as we shuffled into the building.

Mark put his gun down and continued down the hall, and the boys and I stayed by the door. Dean tugged his gun from my grip, and Sam nudged me.

“What’s going on out there?”

“We don’t know. I mean, I feel like Chuck Heston in the Omega Man. Sarge is the only sane person we could find, and Olive keeps bugging out.”

“I can’t stop it. Something’s putting me on edge and I can’t control it.”

“Sammy, what are we even dealing with?” I wrapped my arms around myself.

“Doc thinks it’s a virus.” Sam tugged his jacket off and draped it over my shoulders.

“Okay, great. What do you think?”

“I think she’s right.” Sam sighed.

“Really?”

“Yeah.��� Sam nodded. “And I think the people infected are trying to infect others.”

“How?”

“Blood-to-blood contact. And get this. The virus? It leaves traces of sulfur in the blood.”

“A fucking demonic virus?”

“Yep. It’s like demonic germ warfare. At least it explains why I’ve been having visions. Probably why Ollie’s on edge, too.”

“It’s like a Biblical fucking plague.” Dean grumbled.

“You have no clue how right you are. I’ve been poring through Dad’s journal, found something about the Roanoke colony.”

“What?” I looked up.

“Dad thought Croatoan was a demon’s name. Sometimes known as Deva or Resheph.”

I sighed. “Resheph was the Egyptian personification of the fucking plague.”

“Well, that’s fucking terrific.” Dean grumbled again. “Why here? Why now?”

“I have no idea. But guys, who knows how far this thing can spread? We’ve gotta get the hell out of here. We’ve gotta warn people.”

Dean sighed, a weary look on his face. I huffed.

“He’s right, Dean. We have to let Bobby know. E-Ellen, Jo. Any other hunter. This is big. We can’t stop it alone.”

“They’ve got one! In here!”

The three of us jumped before scrambling into the next room. Mark was pointing at Beverly through the window. Dean squinted.

“What are you talking about?”

“The wife. She’s infected.”

“We’ve gotta take care of this.” Mark sighed. “We can’t just leave her in there. My neighbors, they were strong. The longer we wait, the stronger she’ll get.”

Dean only paused for a second before pulling his gun and stalking into the lab. Sam and I scrambled to follow with eyes bulging out of our heads.

“What do you mean you’re gonna kill Beverly Tanner?”

“Wait, hold on.” I blurted as we walked in. “Could there be any kind of treatment, Doc? Maybe some kind of cure for this?”

“Can you cure it?” Dean repeated.

“I don’t even know what it is.”

“I told you, it’s just a matter of time before she breaks through.”

“Just leave her in there. You can’t shoot her like an animal!” Pam cried.

“Sam. Olive.” Dean called for us as we walked over to the door of the utility room.

Dean and I pulled our guns out, and Mark shakily did the same. Sam carefully opened the door, only to reveal Beverly on the floor, knees drawn to her chest. She jumped at the sight of us and began to sob.

“Mark, what are you doing? Mark, it-it’s them! They locked me in here! They tried to kill me! They’re infected, not me! Please, Mark! You’ve known me all your life! Please!”

“Are you sure she’s one of them?” I whispered.

Sam nodded, baby face twisted in pure distress. Mark let his arm go slack as he took a step back. Dean sighed, and I shook my head. I clenched my jaw and fired twice.

                                                            ***

Mark peered through the shades. I finished sharpening Sam’s knife before handing it back to him. Dean was loading his gun. Jinx was curled at our feet, whining. A vial shattered, and there was a scream.

“Oh god! Is there any on me? Am I okay?”

“You’re clean, you’re okay.” Dr. Lee reassured her.

“Why are we staying here?” Pam squealed. “Please, let’s just go!”

“We can’t, because those things are everywhere.”

Pam slumped down to the floor with a whine, and Dr. Lee knelt beside her.

“She’s right about one thing.” Sam whispered. “We can’t stay here. We’ve gotta get out of here. Roadhouse, maybe?” He shook his head. “Somewhere. We have to let people know what’s coming.”

“Yeah, good point.” Dean sighed. “Night of the Living Dead didn’t exactly end pretty.”

“Well, I’m not sure we’ve got a choice.” Mark huffed. “Lots of folks up here are good with rifles. Even with all your hardware, we’re easy targets. So unless you’ve got some explosives…”

Sam sighed, and his eyes widened as he realized something. I looked up at him and followed his line of sight. Dean looked at us, confused.

“We could make some.”

“Yeah.” Sam started for the high shelf and went for the bottles of Potassium Chloride.

Someone started to pound on the door, and the three of us scrambled back just as Mark swung the door open.

“It’s Duane Tanner!”

Duane limped in, backpack swung over his shoulder. “Thank God.”

“Duane, are you okay?”

Dean and I turned to Sam.

“Is that… the guy that… Dean…” I slowly slashed a hand across my throat as Dean let out a whistle.

“Yeah.”

“Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy, there, chief.” Dean grabbed Duane’s arm. “Hey, Doc! Come give Duane a good once-over, would you?”

“Pam?” Dr. Lee called as she led us into the examination room.

“Who are you?” Duane fussed against Dean’s arm.

“Never mind who I am.” He shoved him into the room. “Doc?”

“Yeah, okay.” She eased.

“Duane. Where’ve you been?” Mark questioned.

“I was on a fishing trip up by Roslyn. I came back this afternoon. I… I saw Roger McGill being dragged out of his house. By people we know! They started cutting him with knives! I ran! I’ve been hiding in the woods ever since… has anybody seen my mom or dad?”

Dean swallowed and turned to us. “Awkward…”

Duane sat on a stool, and Dr. Lee groaned.

“You’re bleeding.”

Dean took a step forward. “Where’d you get that?”

“I was running, I must’ve tripped.”

Dean didn’t miss a beat. “Tie him up, there’s rope in there.”

“Wait!” Duane got to his feet.

Dean, without hesitation, pulled his gun. “Sit down!”

“I’m sorry, Duane.” Mark untangled the ropes. “He’s right. We’ve gotta be careful.”

“Careful? About what?”

“Did they bleed on you?” I squinted, feeling uneasy.

“No! What the hell? No!”

“Doc, is there any way to know for sure? Any test?”

Dr. Lee sighed. “I’ve studied Beverly’s blood-work backwards and forwards.”

“My mom!” Duane sat up.

“It took three hours for the virus to incubate. The sulfur didn’t appear in the blood until then, so… no. No, there’d be no way of knowing. Not until after Duane turns.”

“Guys, I’ve gotta talk to you. Now.” Sam pulled on our sleeves.

Dean and Mark shared a look before Sam dragged us out.

“What’s going on, Sams?”

“This is my vision. It’s happening.”

“Yeah.” Dean huffed. “I figured.”

“Okay, well, what do we do so that it doesn’t turn out the way it did?”

“We can’t kill him. We don’t know if he’s infected or not.”

“Well, I think we’re pretty damn sure, Sam. Guy shows up out of nowhere, he’s got a cut on his leg, his whole family’s infected?”

Sam sighed. “Alright, then we should keep him tied up, we should wait and see.”

“For what? For him to Hulk out and infect somebody else? No thanks, can't take that chance.” Dean started to push past Sam, but Sam slammed a hand onto his chest and stopped him.

“Hey, look, man. I’m not happy about this, okay? But it’s a tough job and you know that.”

“It’s supposed to be tough, Dean. we’re supposed to struggle with this. That’s the whole point.”

“And what does that buy us, Sam?”

“A clear conscience, for one!”

“Well, it’s too late for that.”

Sam and I shared a look, both sighing. Sam stopped Dean again. “What the hell happened to you?”

“What?” Dean spat back.

“You might kill an innocent man, and you don't even care! You don't act like yourself anymore, Dean. Hell, you know what? You're acting like one of those things out there.”

“Dean, I thought we were past this.” I whispered.

Dean only nodded. He moved again, and Sam reached out to stop him a third time. Dean pushed him into the wall, hard. I snarled and ran after Dean, but he shoved me back into the room and locked the door.

“Dean!”

“Hey!” Sam was now at my side, pushing at the door. “Open the door, Dean! Don’t do it! Dean!”

“Dean, don’t!”

There was a long silence, and Sam and I stared at each other, horrified. Dean wasn’t himself. He seemed more like Dad every day, and the influence of Gordon was still lingering.

The door unlocked, and Sam and I both jumped to push it open. We stumbled out into the hallway. Dean caught me as I tripped. I looked up to see his face clean of blood.

“Did you-”

“No.”

                                                            ***

Jinx yawned, and I did the same. Sam shoved another rag into a bottle, and Dean handed me the one he had just finished. I tucked it aside with the others and sighed. The door opened, and Dr. Lee strode in, hands in her pockets.

“It’s been over four hours. Duane’s blood is still clean. I don’t think he’s infected. I’d like to untie him, if that’s alright.”

Dean glanced up at us, then looked back down, lowering his head. Sam and I sighed, and Sam nodded.

“Sure.”

She nodded and shut the door behind her. Sam shifted in his seat, looking over at Dean.

“You know I’m gonna ask you why.”

“Yeah. I know.” Dean huffed.

“So why? Why didn’t you do it?”

There was a long beat, and Dean tossed a rag aside. “We need more alcohol.”

Sam huffed and got up, leaving. Jinx whined, but she stayed in her spot. I yawned again, and Dean crossed his arms over his chest. I sat in Sam’s empty seat and leaned forward.

“Why didn’t you do it?”

Dean looked away.

“De.”

“I don’t wanna be Dad.”

A wave of relief washed over me and I sighed. There was a crash from the next room over. Dean and I both shot up, sharing a look.

“Sam.”

We each pulled out our guns and ran to the door, met by Mark, who also had a gun in his hand. I tried the handle, but it was locked. I nodded at Dean, who reared back before kicking it open. Pam was straddling Sam, hand to his chest. Dean fired three times, and Pam fell to the floor, dead.

“Sams, oh my god.” I tucked my gun into my waistband.

“No!” Mark grabbed me by the upper arm and yanked me back.

A snarl ripped past my lips and I bared my fangs at him. Mark jumped away, and I knelt next to Sam, reaching for his hand.

“She bled on him. He’s got the virus.”

Sam pulled his hand away from me, eyes wide. My eyes began to fill with tears as I looked down at his bloodied chest. I looked over my shoulder at Dean.

“What do we do?”

                                                            ***

Sam was sitting on the exam table, a bandage taped to his chest. His head was down, and he was near tears. The others were crowded in the room, and Dean was pacing. I sniffled, arms crossed over my chest.

“Doc, check his wound again, would you?”

There was a long pause, and Dean’s head snapped up, fire in his eyes.

“Doctor!”

Mark scowled. “What’s she need to examine him for? You saw what happened.”

Dr. Lee sighed. “Did her blood actually enter your wound?”

“Come on, of course it did!” Mark spat.

“We don’t know that for sure.” Dean tried to reason.

“We can’t take a chance.”

“Doc, just… check again. Please.” I begged.

“You know what we have to do.” Mark crossed his arms over his chest.

“Nobody is shooting our brother.” Dean snarled.

“He isn’t gonna be your brother much longer. You said it yourself.” Duane snapped.

“Nobody is shooting anyone!”

“You were gonna shoot me!”

“You don’t shut your damn mouth, I might!” I snarled.

“Guys…” Sam spoke up. “They’re right. I’m infected… just give me the gun and I’ll do it myself.”

“Forget it.” Dean scoffed.

“Dean, I’m not gonna become one of those things.”

“Sams, we still have time.” I whined.

“Time for what? Look, I understand he’s your brother, and I’m sorry, I am. But we gotta take care of this.” Mark pulled out his handgun.

I bared my fangs, growling. Mark stuck his gun against my forehead.

“What the hell are you?”

“Something that can kill you, no doubt.” I hissed.

Dean eased a hand onto my shoulder and tugged me away. Mark’s gun went down, and Dean got in his face.

“I’m gonna say this one time.” Dean spoke slowly. “You make a move on either of them, you’ll be dead before you hit the ground.”

Mark said nothing.

“You understand me?”

Still, nothing.

“Do I make myself clear!”

“Then what are we supposed to do?”

There was a long pause, and Dean and I shared a look. I nodded, and Dean fished his keys from his pocket. He tossed them to Mark.

“Get the hell out of here, that’s what. Take my car. You’ve got the explosives. There’s an arsenal in the back. You’ve got enough firepower to handle anything now.” Dean eyed me. “Take the rest of them.

“What?” I gasped as Dean pushed me toward Mark.

“Well, what about you?” Mark eyed Dean.

There was a beat, and Sam shook his head. “Dean, no. No! Go with them. This is your only chance!”

Dean shook his head right back. “You’re not gonna get rid of me that easy.”

“No, he’s right.” Mark tried to reason with Dean. “Come with us.”

Dean shook his head. Mark held a hand out for me, and I flinched. I looked at the boys, who both nodded at me. I handed Mark Jinx’s leash with tears in my eyes.

“Take her. Please.”

Mark squinted, and the boys began to protest.

“Go.” I pointed at the door.

Mark shrugged. “Fine. Your funeral.” He led Duane and Dr. Lee toward the door.

“I’m sorry.” Dr. Lee whispered. “Thanks for everything, Marshals.”

Dean snorted. “Oh, uh… actually, we’re not… really Marshals.”

“Oh…” She hesitated before leaving with Mark and Duane.

I hoisted myself onto the exam table as Dean shut the door. Sam began to cry, looking from me to Dean. I leaned my head against his arm, grabbing his hand in mine.

Dean smiled softly. “Wish we had a deck of cards. Or a foosball table or something.”

“Guys.” Sam whimpered. “Don’t do this. Just get the hell out of here.”

Dean shook his head. “No way.”

“Give me my gun, and leave.”

“For the last time, Sams, no.” I hissed.

Sam shrugged me off and stood up, slamming his hands on the table. I jumped, and Dean’s face hardened. Sam sighed, realizing that he scared us both.

“This is the dumbest thing you two have ever done.”

Dean shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know about that. Remember that waitress in Tampa?” He shuddered.

“Ew.” My nose scrunched up.

Sam sighed. “Dean… Olive… I’m sick. It’s over for me. It doesn’t have to be for you.”

“No?”

“No. You guys can keep going. You have before.”

“I don’t want to.” Dean whispered.

I shook my head. “Not without you, bubs.”

“What?”

Dean pulled his gun from his waistband and settled onto the file cabinet, across the room from us. Sam sat back down on the exam table.

“I’m tired, Sam. I’m tired of this job, this life… this… this weight on my shoulders, man. I’m tired of it.”

“So what? You’re just gonna give up? You two? Just lay down and die? Look guys, I know this stuff with Dad has-”

“You’re wrong.” Dean cut him off. “It’s not about Dad. I mean… part of it is, sure. But…”

“Then what is it about?” Sam whispered.

There was a bustle outside the door, and the boys and I looked up. I bared my fangs with a low growl. Dean and I both held our guns up, and Dean quickly opened the door.

“You’d better come see this.” Dr. Lee stood in the hall.

                                                            ***

I huddled into Dean’s side, a low feeling in the pit of my stomach as we looked around. There was nothing. Nobody, no noise.

“They’ve all just… vanished.”

                                                            ***

Sam shifted on the exam table.

Dr. Lee looked up from the microscope. “Well, it’s been five hours and your blood’s still clean.”

Dean and I sighed in relief.

“I don’t understand it, but I think you dodged a bullet.”

“But I was exposed. How could I not be infected?”

“I don’t know.” Dr. Lee shook her head. “But you’re just not.”

I ran at Sam, pulling him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around me with a sigh. Dr. Lee grumbled under her breath before letting out a curse.

“What happened?” Dean perked up.

“Their blood.” Dr. Lee looked confused. “The Tanner samples. There’s no trace of the virus. No sulfur. Nothing.”

The boys and I shared a look.

                                                           ***

Dr. Lee spoke to Duane and Mark, who were loading up a truck. She shook her head before coming over to us. Mark waved, and the three of us held a hand up.

“What about him?” Dean asked Dr. Lee as she sighed.

“He’s going to be fine. No signs of infection.”

I hummed, and Dean nodded. Sam chewed at his lip, eyebrows furrowed. Mark and Duane got into the truck and pulled away. Dean looked up at Sam, who put his hands up.

“Hey, don’t look at me. I got no clue.”

“I swear, I’m gonna lose sleep over this one. I mean… why here? Why now? And there the fuck did they all go? It’s like they just melted.”

“And why was I immune?”

Dean blew a raspberry. “Yeah, you know what? That’s a good question.”

I shrugged. “I’m already starting to feel like this is the one that got away.”

                                                           ***

“So…” Sam takes a swig of his beer and looks down at the river. “Last night. Wanna tell me what the hell you were talking about?”

“What do you mean?” Dean squints.

Olive looks between the boys. Sam gives her a soft smile. She leans into his side and closes her eyes.

“You said you were tired of the job, Dean. And that it wasn’t just because of Dad.”

Dean huffs. “Forget it.”

“No. No, I can’t.” Sam shakes his head. “No way.”

“Come on, man.” Dean scowls. “I thought we were all gonna die. You can’t hold that over me.”

“No, no, no, no. You can't pull that crap with me, man. You're talking.” Sam crosses his arms over his chest.

“And what if I don't?”

“Then I guess I'll just have to keep asking until you do.” Sam challenges.

Dean sighs again, looking out over the water. “I don't know, man. I just think maybe we ought to… go to the Grand Canyon.”

“What?”

“You know, all this driving back and forth across the country, we’ve never been to the Grand Canyon. Or maybe we could go to T.J. Or Hollywood. See if we can bang Lindsey Lohan.”

Olive’s nose scrunches up, and she looks up at Sam, who is equally confused.

“Dean…”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“I just think we should take a break from all this. Why do we gotta get stuck with all the responsibility, you know? Why can't we live life a little bit?”

“Why are you saying all this?” A concerned look drapes itself over Sam’s face.

Dean shakes his head and looks the other way.

“No, no, no. Dean.” Sam tries.

“Dean, we’re a family.” Olive places a hand on his shoulder. “We carry each other’s burdens, remember?”

“I can’t. I promised.” Dean whispers.

“Promised who, Dean?” Sam inches closer to his siblings.

“Dad.” Dean’s voice is weak.

“Dean, what are you talking about?” Olive squints.

Dean looks down, then up, tears in his eyes. “Right before Dad died, he told me something.” He takes a deep breath and looks up at Sam. “He told me something about you.”

Sam’s eyes grow wide. “What?”

Olive feels the tension, as does Jinx, who whines from her spot on the ground.

“Dean, what did Dad tell you?”

Previous Ep: Crossroad Blues (2.08)

Next Ep: Hunted (2.10)

taglist:

@i67​

[satonthelotuspier]

❄️ Untamed Winter Fest 2019 ❄️

Day 31 - Beginning - 2.0k

More Xicheng from my Jiang Family AU - the story leads on from Day 2, Day 4, Day 21 and Day 26 if you missed them.

CW for living with Mental Health Issues.

“I’ve emailed you three properties that might work, will you have a look later and let me know whether you like any of them? I’ll arrange a viewing for the weekend if you do”

Jiang Cheng had his phone on speaker; he took the brief interlude while he spoke to Lan Xichen to fuss Snowdrop who had been sleeping at his feet.

“If I can get this commission sent for approval this afternoon I will” he promised as Snowdrop tried to jump into his lap to investigate his desk. Hearing Lan Xichen’s voice but not being able to see him confused her greatly.

“Are you struggling? Do you want me to stay at mine tonight? I can come and collect Snowdrop”

“No no, I should be finished, I’m just at a roadblock right now; your call came at a great time to give me a break actually”

“If you’re sure...”

“Very, I’m going to take Snowdrop for a you know what once we hang up and treat myself to a trip to the coffee shop on the way back. That should get the braincells firing again” he stretched his kinked shoulders out, spine arching to release the tension of being hunched at a computer screen since first thing that morning.

“Right, I hope you enjoy your Chai Latte or whatever abomination you end up ordering, I’ll be there about half seven tonight, I’ve got a quick meeting with Wangji and Uncle Qiren at six. Shall I pick up some food on the way over if you’re on a deadline?”

“Great, yes, thanks,” he jumped up as Xichen hung up and went to collect Snowdrop’s leash.

They walked to the park and he spent a little more time on training Snowdrop how to play fetch with a suitable stick he found, then back to his building via the coffee shop, where he treated himself to the promised Chai Latte and a muffin for lunch.

They were virtually at the door when Snowdrop spotted another dog and gave an almighty yank on her leash in her excitement, he just about managed to keep hold of her but his Chai Latte was firmly knocked out of his hand and the luckily cooled drink drenched him from head to toe.

He would have been frozen in shock if he didn’t have to wrestle with an overexcited dog, “Snowdrop, sit” and she finally relented, looking at him expectantly for a treat when she complied. “Are you joking? You think you’re getting a treat after your shenanigans?” he demanded in irritation, wiping at his face, futilely as it turned out because his sleeve was just as soaked in coconut milk and chai.

He noticed the man who’d stepped onto the pavement and stood watching then; and fuck but his heart stopped.

Lan Qiren, Lan Xichen’s uncle. What was he doing here? What was wrong?

He didn’t fid out the purpose of the visit. Lan Qiren merely confirmed Lan Xichen was alright, stayed to have tea with him and discuss various bland topics then left, without ever saying much beyond the formalities.

He shrugged it off, showered and changed out of his stained clothes and got back to work on his project, hitting the send button just after six.

Nice, he’d have time to check Lan Xichen’s email before he arrived with food.

He scanned the properties and quickly discounted all of them. They were all beautiful, close to parks for Snowdrop, with generous gardens so she’d be able to run loose when she wanted, but they were well out of his price range.

He wasn’t poor by any standards, he was comfortable and could afford a nice apartment on his own, but the Lans were in the big money leagues. Perhaps Xichen just wasn’t aware of the difference in their means. Some people born to money didn’t have much of an understanding of how it worked in reality, and while Xichen was anything but stupid he could be naive about some things.

It would be embarrassing but he’d have to say something; he didn’t want Xichen to think he was being obstructive and he genuinely did want to move in with him but it needed to be something that wouldn’t bankrupt him in a few months. As a freelancer he couldn’t always guarantee his income and he couldn’t afford to dip too often into his savings.

He set the table so it was ready for when Lan Xichen arrived and grabbed his tablet to do some searching of his own.

The best way to end any conflict positively was to show Xichen he was taking it seriously, so he would present some possible properties of his own.

He’d found one that was a tentative tick for all his boxes by the time he heard the doorbell, so he bookmarked the page and went to let Xichen in.

Over dinner Lan Xichen regaled him with the tale of how his uncle Qiren had laughed for 10 minutes straight during their meeting when he told them of the Chai Latte incident and how hilarious it had been to have Jiang Cheng act formal and serve him tea still covered head to toe in coconut milk.

Jiang Cheng was less than impressed.

“Really, so he turns up for what reason? Sees me at my least glorious, makes me serve him tea then has the temerity to tell my boyfriend and my brother-in-law while laughing his ass off that I looked like an absolute twat”

“Wanyin, honestly it wasn’t like that. And the reason was as we’re talking of moving in together he wanted to come and visit you. He approves, honestly I’ve never heard him laugh like that before, it was like he was possessed. He said you’d make me happy”

“Oh great, your uncle approves because you’re moving in with a fucking clown” he threw his chopsticks down on the table and Xichen reached over to try and take his hand.

He snatched his away.

“Why are you pouting about this Wanyin? It was a funny accident, and my uncle didn’t mean that at all. He did the same to Wei Wuxian when he and Wangji were becoming serious; he didn’t mean any disrespect” he put his own chopsticks down and moved around the table to kneel beside Wanyin and catch hold of his hands. “I’m sorry. I’ll ask Uncle to apologise too if it will make it better, we didn’t mean to hurt you”

Jiang Cheng shook him off and got to his feet, putting space between them, and honestly he knew he was being childish and pathetic, but when had that ever stopped him before? Really Xichen was going to find out about this side of his personality sooner or later, better now before they’d committed themselves to a home together. Lucky for Xichen even.

“Nice, then I look like the petulant child who can’t take a joke, lets not do that” he jammed his hands into the pockets of his battered jeans to keep him from going to town on the contents of the table.

“If it hurt you then we need to apologise”

“I’m not hurt. Stop making me sound piteous”

He saw the moment Xichen realised no matter what he said he was going to get a negative response; it was like shutters went down behind his eyes and his face lost it’s usual expressive warmth. He had never looked more like Lan Wangji in Jiang Cheng’s sight before.

“So what do you want me to do then Wanyin?” he asked with spread hands, but they both probably knew at this point nothing he could do or say would help.

Jiang Cheng moved to the table to take up his crockery, “Stop being so accommodating, it’s pathetic” he snapped and stalked off to the kitchen. He slammed the crockery down so hard some of it smashed, and Lan Xichen had followed him into the kitchen.

Why wouldn’t he back off and leave Jiang Cheng alone to cool down like any sensible person would? If he’d had sense he’d have taken Snowdrop and retreated to his own place by now to let Jiang Cheng rage in peace.

Because he had the audacity to stick around obviously Jiang Cheng wouldn’t let him be. “Oh and those places you sent me, you’ll have to scratch them all off the list. You need to get real and look in a more reasonable price range” You fucking idiot, you know you should do this when you’re calm and sensible.

“Jiang Wanyin, that doesn’t matter, money isn’t an object-”

“Wrong” he snapped, “Money isn’t an object for you, pretty little rich boy, it most certainly is for me. Sorry you shacked up with a prole, Your Highness, but that means you have to take notice of things those of us who live in the real world have to consider, like how much I can seriously afford to sink into mortgage repayments or rent each month”

“I didn’t intend to rent or mortgage”

“How nice for you. As mentioned, however, that really isn’t going to work for me. I’m not your royal whore, Your Highness, I will be paying my share” like he’ll still even be here tomorrow, never mind want to move in with you.

Xichen pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb, “Can we talk about this another time please Wanyin, when you’re not so-?”

“Emotional? Brutally honest? Sure, whatever, get lost” he turned his back to Xichen and busied himself in the sink.

He heard Xichen’s sigh, heard him walk out of the kitchen, the rattle of Snowdrop’s leash and the outer door open and close behind them.

Great. That was that then. The end. He’d done it again. Well done Jiang Cheng, your one hundred percent record of self sabotage remains undiminished.

He channelled himself into cleaning up like a demon to work through the remaining anger, and then the pain.

Pain was difficult to deal with when it was purely self-inflicted though, when half of him wanted himself to suffer because he knew he fucking deserved it.

If he went into default depression mode and went straight to bed to lay and brood all night once the cleaning was done then that was now his business.

He must have drifted off (cried himself) to sleep pretty quickly as it was only later, when the bed dipped behind him that he realised he wasn’t alone in the apartment anymore.

He rolled over, confused.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you” Xichen’s soft voice.

“Are you coming to smother me?” he asked tentatively, and Xichen laughed that sweet, soft laugh of his.

“No, but can I hold you? Will it get me eviscerated?” he reached down to tentatively cup Jiang Cheng’s jawline and brush his cheek with a soft, stroking thumb.

“Not now” Jiang Cheng admitted timidly, nuzzling into the caress like a cat. Then he threw his arms around Xichen's neck and squeezed him tightly. “I promise I’m taking my medication. I can usually deal with it, neutralise it, it just took me by surprise tonight. It’s been a long time”

Xichen gathered him close against his chest and made soothing noises, “Soon can we talk about how best for me to help you if it does happen again? I didn’t know what to do and it was worrying for me”

Jiang Cheng nodded against his chest, “Honestly, just get out of my way. I’ve never yet been violent but I’m verbally nasty. It’s better for you to just go leave me be, take a bath and lock the bathroom, take Snowdrop for a walk”

“Alright, we’ll talk about it more later, just cuddle with me now Sweeting, we can deal with everything else another day”

“I didn’t think you were coming back” Jiang Cheng admitted.

“I did. Today is just the beginning of our lives together. Tomorrow will be too. Lets take the things we need to one day at a time, and plan for the things we can” he felt Xichen’s lips brush his forehead and snuggled closer.

[motheatenscarf]

So, I recently recommended Castlevania to people based on the first 2 seasons, and having now seen the 3rd season I’m still keeping that recommendation but with some pretty strong warnings going in.

The TL;DR version is, I still recommend this series with the caveat that your mileage may vary depending on your tolerance for sexual themes and more specifically your sensitivity toward sexual assault. 

So uh, spoiler in the spoiler disclaimer, but content warning for discussion of the above themes. I apologize to mobile readers; this got long. I only feel the need to say all this because I have in the past recommended this show to people before these elements came into play in the first 2 seasons. So, I kind of owe it to those people who may have taken my recommendation to follow through now.

I’m sure it won’t come as a shock to anyone (or at least I hope it won’t) that Castlevania, the show which introduces its wandering drunk protagonist by having him overhear two inbred shit eating peasants in a bar talking about literal goat fucking, has a pretty cynical view on humanity and is a pretty hard R.

Most of that R rating and cynicism has been in regard to gore and Christianity and I’ve been extremely on board and pettily here for it. For all that it’s a gory mess with plenty of colorful language, however, it’s been extremely restrained when it comes to sexuality. 

For my ace ass, that was kind of an appeal. I’m not opposed to sexuality in my media, but people do tend to make it... egregious and often unbalanced. It often feels that any media that gets that R rating just goes “Fuck it, may as well!” regarding shoehorning its nudity and sexuality. And frankly, censorship laws in the United States are FUCKING ANTIQUATED AS ALL HELL, so a rape scene where the camera ogles the woman’s breasts as she’s assaulted? Yeah, sure, that’s an R. Consensual sex scene that shows no genitalia but the woman in clear arousal? That’s an NC-17 for you. And that’s just women; don’t get me started on queer censorship, we’d be here all day. So, given the country I live in, the fact that I like horror and fantasy, and the fact that I’m an asexual woman, you can maybe see where my stance on sexual themes in any adult oriented media is just, an exasperated sigh as I boredly sit through another rape scene.

So, our first scene in Castlevania S3 is of Alucard, having been alone for the last month now, slowly losing his mind to crippling loneliness and overwhelming guilt after having murdered his father where Trevor and Sypha took him at his word when he said he would be the lone guardian standing vigil over Dracula’s castle and the Belmont library. Turns out he was wrong about being fine, which we knew from last season as it ended with him alone in his room sobbing his heart out, but he’s already losing his grip here as he makes little puppets of Sypha and Trevor to carry conversation with. An eccentricity he fully acknowledges is insane.

Our next scene confirms through dialogue that Trevor and Sypha are now in a sexual relationship, even though they’re only ever shown cuddling up in bed talking about The Plot and various happenings a few episodes later. Nothing explicit is ever depicted between them.

Alucard, on the other hand, picks up a couple of strays who were the thralls of one of the vampires killed last season, specifically the evidently Japanese one named “Cho” and our two new characters............ I had to google their names, Sumi and Taka, are also Japanese. They ask him to train them to kill vampires to protect their clan. Alucard, clearly remembering what he said about “Think of all the things Dracula could have done if he’d put all this knowledge toward helping people instead of giving into his rage and destroying them,” decides to agree and help them. He is clearly trying to be the person his mother would have wanted. Aww. 

Except not aww, Taka and Sumi are two clearly traumatized and deeply flawed people from the masses which this series is, again, extremely cynical toward. They are unsubtley fixated on learning more and more powerful ways to kill vampires and Alucard is pretty chill about it because he can’t see through the 4th wall and hear the ominous music or the glances they exchange when he’s not looking. This is purely for the audience. They at one point have a discussion away from him where they try to psychoanalyze him and decide that his isolation is a self imposed punishment for killing Dracula and that this is as close as he can get to killing himself without actually doing it. THIS IS FOR THE AUDIENCE. Then they mentioned they should give him a reward for what he’s done for them.

What happens next is difficult to break down from their standpoint, as they’re not particularly well developed characters, not being Important Characters but just a duo from the masses which the show dismisses, but if you’ve caught a single frame of Alucard this season, is easy enough to explain from his perspective. They come to him at night when he can’t sleep, tell him he deserves a reward, and proceed to make sexual advances toward him, which he seems somewhat embarrassed and confused by at first before quickly becoming a participant in. Again, it is well established by this point that he desperately misses Trevor and Sypha, whom he was already jealous of the connection between last season, and is profoundly lonely. The sex, which he consents to, is clearly a proxy as it’s all he can get for now. The sex is also, unfortunately, initiated under false pretenses, and ends abruptly when the whole thing turns into a Christ allegory and they pin Alucard in the crucifix position after having betrayed him with a kiss (and then some) and demand he show them the secrets they’re certain he’s hiding from them. Alucard tries to reason with them, still insisting he knows they’re scared but that he’s been nothing but honest with them, but they’re too traumatized and broken to believe him, and so he kills them in self defense, all still right there on the bed where they were having sex. He then, reminiscent of Dracula from the series opening, stakes their bodies before the entrance to the castle as a warning to those who would come to harm him, telling the audience that he is Lisa’s son in many ways, but he is also Dracula’s, and is realizing with time and experience now that his father’s sentiment toward humanity may not have been so misplaced.

So you know. Lot to unpack there...

BUT THAT AIN’T IT, FOLKS!

There’s another, far less interesting (unbiased review here, folks) character named Hector. He’s a forgemaster which means he makes monsters which are loyal only to him. He’s no Isaac (whom I’d mentioned his backstory/characterization just kinda left a general bad taste in my mouth before but OH BABY, AM I CHANGING TUNE ON THAT ONE. Could write a whole review on Isaac but I’m gonna stay focused here) but he’s apparently here to stay, so fine. 

There was an evil femme fatale vampire last season who kinda bored me who tricked Hector into betraying Dracula and then took him captive when she got what she wanted out of him. She did not trick him with sex at least but was still “evil manipulative femme fatale” which... *yawn* In S3 she drags him back to her home country and then proceeds to talk to her own sort of war council on how to get him to make a monster army for them to use that won’t just kill them all.

The lesbian vampire war council are fuckin interesting and I love 2 of them. The other one is an actually evil seductress femme fatale who DOES manipulate him with sex. Yay. How original. Well at least there are finally enough interesting, compelling women in the story that this isn’t our token evil female vampire so it’s easy for me to shrug off and forgive. All you need to know about Hector is he played with dead animals as a kid, it freaked his parents out when he kept reviving dead things, he killed them, now he’s a dead critter loving sensitive weirdo who was willing to participate in a “humane cull” that would leave the human race in essentially livestock pens for vampires. 

So the entire time the red headed femme fatale is trying to get him to see that she’s not so bad, vampires can be civil, we don’t want what Dracula wanted, my sister didn’t trick you she appealed to your reason, blahblahblah, she’s calling him a “good boy” and leading him on, i fucking quote, “walkies” with a leash. There’s also a comment that she tended to an injured spider once. So,, y’know, she’s him, which means she’s best suited to manipulating him. And Hector even admits to being aware of what she’s doing and calls her out on it, but he’s trapped and doesn’t have much of a choice other than to go along with what she does and weirdly seems almost content at times. His weird naturalist... weirdness probably gives him some inferiority complex when it comes to vampires, I don’t know, his backstory and motive are not connected in the least and I’m frankly not interested enough in this character to give him much contemplation since it’s pretty clear there wasn’t much going into his creation. Anyway. Long story short, she eventually, with only technically lying to him about the purpose of a particular ring she wears, lures him into having sex with her and in the heat of passion has him swear loyalty to her before slipping a cursed ring on him which binds him exactly as he’d just sworn, essentially making him a slave. The sex, again, also stops here, but she makes some extremely unsettling comments later on about how he was surprisingly good at sex and she might “train him.” Which.... where to begin other than yikes, and why, and, where in the hell was a guy who played with dead animals supposed to learn to eat a bitch out like that anyway??

This is where we also, tying the themes together, learn that one of the allies Trevor and Sypha have been teaming up with was a child killer the whole time. They only learn this after he dies helping them fight the evil that had come to his town (and after the most iconic line of the season; “What the fuck is toilet paper?”) which they accomplish, but not before failing to save anyone in the village, which was consumed in an evil ritual. They’re alone again, with a distraught Sypha realizing what Trevor had tried to forget by getting caught up in her optimism, that, say it with me now;

So there is your mostly unbiased spoilery context for the scenes in question. You can make up your own mind from there if that’s something you can handle, I’m gonna go on to add a few of my own thoughts which do not represent how I believe anyone else should interpret the show, this is purely my own train of thought here.

Sex consented to under false pretenses is still rape. I don’t know that I would personally classify these as “rape scenes,” but that’s just me. The reaction of the characters afterward makes me think Hector’s comes closer than Alucard’s, but the fact that both have appropriate reactions to being sexually betrayed makes me think that’s mostly what people are talking about when they say either one was raped. Hector later falls to his knees in a panic and hopelessness as he realizes “You made me a slave, my life is over,” and Alucard just lays there on the floor where he murdered his father as he weeps silently in contemplation of his own despair. That’s... some heavy shit, and I can, again, easily see where someone with a history of abuse or assault can be completely traumatized all over again watching this. As for the leeriness/attempting to be titilating/making rape “sexy” that a lot of adult fantasy/horror does... eh? I’m asexual, none of it’s sexy to me, and I was paying attention to the visual and audio cues the entire time that were making the audience aware with their ominous music, flashing between sex and battles against evil, and watching the instigators (Taka and Sumi, and Lenore the femme fatale vampire) as the camera focused on their scheming faces. The camera in Alucard’s scene especially just seemed to want to show us how sad and lonely he is, but that was pretty well established by that point and I know a sex scene devolving into a murder scene is jarring for people.

The themes of the season were manipulation, trust, and betrayal. Hector’s story reaches a pivotal turning point the moment the ring is slipped on him. Could it have been implemented differently than through the femme fatale seduction route? Absolutely, the show hadn’t really adopted sexual themes until this season and probably could have done so without it. She’d already lied to Hector an said that the rings were symbols she and her sisters wore to unite them, she could have been lying and welcomed him to join them and gotten him to swear loyalty to them in a ceremony after spending more time getting him to trust her. It was dumb and unnecessary and probably added in there just so maybe Alucard wasn’t the sole bearer of such an experience, or maybe because they shifted his plotline to fit in with the established themes, or maybe they could only sneak a bisexual threesome past the censors if they threw in more straight sex. What can I say? The cynicism of this show is relatable.

Alucard’s was less “Yikes” for me because he was never in a position where he didn’t have emotional or physical power over Taka and Sumi, he was a mentor to them who made no sexual advances whatsoever and seemed to only want to participate in their advances because it temporarily made him feel loved and worthy only to have the rug pulled out from under him and remind him that much more painfully of how alone he is, and how right his father may have been, and how wrong he was for killing him. Could this have been done without a sex scene? Yep, it always can. I know what the writers were trying to convey and I personally don’t have an issue with it and see its effectiveness, but I fully acknowledge another hour of spitballing in the writer’s room would have avoided that. I don’t necessarily think it’s a good or bad thing that they included this, it just... is, for me. I personally think if they’re going to confirm the sexual relationship between Trevor and Sypha, though, and then show us that Alucard is clearly missing them, there’s kinda one natural conclusion to make on how Alucard’s relationship with these two was going to go. I actually think it should have been better established and more time should have been spent on his relationship with them and depicted it as romantic/sexual from an earlier stage rather than just seemingly coming out of nowhere to people who hadn’t realized, “Oh, they’re his proxies,” earlier. I personally found it more tragic than traumatizing, but I don’t have a history of sexual abuse, so that is my own biased interpretation. If someone has that experience, I would not blame them in the least for finding this unpalatable.

Other arguments I’ve seen are, why is the only bi character shown to go through this kind of trauma? I mean, Alucard is our only confirmed bi character left for now, but Isaac is heavily implied to be queer, and again. Cynical universe. And he isn’t the only character period to go through it. They’re not singling him out because he’s bi, he’s just going through a character arc and is bi. I acknowledge again it could have been handled better but I don’t necessarily think this is biphobia so much as it is... unfortunate tone deafness. Tokenism is the problem, not Alucard’s bisexuality, so here’s hoping that we get another bi or queer character soon because as of right now, it’s just rife with unfortunate implications. I had this exact issue with Isaac’s backstory/characterization last season as our lone man of color with a major role and they immediately fixed his arc this season along with introducing several new characters of color and it was honestly the highlight of the season, so... the writers have proven to me that they can learn from their mistakes and spin my suspicion into HYPE, so I’m willing to give them through season 4 to see what they do with it.

I have also seen the argument for, why are the only Japanese characters tricky and sexually manipulative? Well, because they’re human and the show is extremely cynical in its depiction of humanity, we’ve just mostly seen that with white Europeans so far. As I mentioned before, tokenism is the problem. Is it annoying to see a sexually manipulative femme fatale vampire? Yes. Can I live with it and shrug it off a helluva lot easier when we get butch warrior vampire and tactical genius vampire talking back and forth about how they plan to conquer and drink an entire nation while espousing their affection for one another? Also yes!  While we do finally get a lot more characters of color this season who are fleshed out and beautifully complex and sympathetic, I think Taka and Sumi could have been better explored, since their mistrust of Alucard makes sense but their decision to have sex with him in order to get his guard down is... really not apparent other than through speculation with 0 textual evidence to support it. I don’t think they’re sexually manipulative because they’re Japanese, I think they’re sexually manipulative because the plot calls for it and they happen to be the only Asian characters we have for now and the writers made another pretty tone deaf decision. Behind the scenes, I do wonder if they were chosen from specifically Cho’s court just so the animators had an excuse to draw her some more/get that Japanese audience invested. Orientalism is a helluva thing here in the west though, and the sexualization of east Asians is especially fucked up and I’m not gonna say this did not have catastrophically tone deaf implications. I hope we get more Asian characters with a nuanced depiction, and even though they are the only Asian characters, they are not the only sexual abusers and they are far from the only sympathetically broken but dangerous characters we see.  

This is also, I’m fairly certain, a dual-studio production, and I do know Castlevania is a Japanese video game series based on European vampire stories, and in the endless love letter between Japanese and American media, some things gets botched in the exchange. That doesn’t excuse it, and that doesn’t mean it isn’t harmful, but I also don’t think it means “Cancelvania.” But I’m Mexican-American, and Not Asian-American, or more specifically Japanese-American, so, this is purely my perspective. 

I won’t defend the choices, I certainly won’t argue with people who draw a line in the sand and say “This is unacceptable, I won’t watch this,” that’s a valid perspective to have. To me, the writers through Isaac have proven they know when and how to correct course when they need to, so I’m cautiously optimistic that this was all build up for a dynamite season 4 if/when we get it. The show is cynical, I’m cynical, but I can recognize careful writing when I see it, and to me the highlights of this unrepentantly stupid fucking show that I kinda love are gonna be worth sticking through the stuff that makes me wrinkle my nose with concern because I want to see where it goes. A time may come when that stops being the case, but for me it hasn’t reached that point yet. I completely understand if it has for anyone else though.

[themonkeycabal]

Do you have anything written with Peter/Spiderman yet?

No, sorry. Just one where Tony and Darcy are talking about him. I did write a thing where Darcy picks him up from school once, but I wrote that before Homecoming and he doesn’t sound right to me. 

I think I saw part of the Tony and Darcy one when I was tagging, but it was only like half. They’re arguing about the Sokovia Accords and Tony’s contemplating approaching Spider-Man. I shall post it for you if you like:

*

“They’re shit.”

Tony sighed and rubbed a hand across his jaw. “I don’t have a choice, kid.”

Darcy sighed right after him and lowered her forehead onto the table. “I know.”

“We’ll fix ‘em, but first I’ve got to get everybody on board. I know it sucks, I know they’re shit. But, damn it,” Tony snarled and thumped a fist on the armrest of his chair. “They’re going to go after Wanda.”

“Pietro?”

“Well, if he can ever breathe on his own again, yeah. Right now, he’s not a threat, but she is.”

“To the bad guys,” she said with a sour grumble.

“Sweetheart, not everybody sees things like you do. I wish they did.” He drummed his fingers on the table and twitched while he played a video file on the monitor mounted on the wall. “With the Inhumans, nobody’s thinking rationally right now.”

“Damn it,” Darcy muttered and raised her head to prop her chin on her hand. “I’m going to lose the fight on the Index issue.”

“For now,” he agreed. “For now we just have to keep everything from getting worse. I screwed up. I … screwed up.” He fell silent for a moment, but his nostrils flared and the lines around his eyes went tight. “But, I just need everybody to calm the fuck down, then …”

“But, if we set up something this rigid, then changing it’s gonna be hell.”

“Isn’t this why you studied Poli-sci? Isn’t this what you told me it was for? Working the politicians?” He shot her a tense, crooked smile. “I guess you’re up to bat.”

“Great.” She chewed on her lower lip and stared at the monitor. “So, who’s the kid?”

“I don’t know. You think he’s a kid?”

She scrunched up her nose and considered the video for a second and nodded. He was slender, but in a smallish, not-fully-grown way, rather than just a skinny dude. Like he was still growing into his arms and legs. “I think I want to steal his lunch money.”

“Yeah,” Tony said quietly, staring at the monitor and the figure in red swinging between two buildings in lower Manhattan. “Another damned kid.”

“Inhuman?”

“How do you tell from a distance? We’ve got a wackjob in red in Hell’s Kitchen — different guy in red. But, there’s that chick, too. The one who jumps. Weird shit going on over there. Stay out of the Kitchen, Darce.”

“Bucky lives there.”

Tony groaned and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. “Damn it.”

“Hey, believe me, I don’t want to get into that. And I don’t want him involved in any of that shit, either. Mostly that feels like a mob war. I’m trying to get him to move to Brooklyn sooner rather than later.”

“SHIELD keeping an eye on that?”

“From a distance.”

“You?”

“Not me.”

“Good.”

“I’m good by not getting involved, honest. Besides the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen seems to be on top of it. Because that’s all comforting and shit. Let him and the cops handle it.” She thought of how that sounded, and winced a little. “It’s not that I don’t care, it’s just that there’s so much other stuff going on.”

“Hey, we’re all spread thin.” He jerked his chin at the monitor. Grainy, jumpy ATM video of the red-suited kid dropping down off the side of a building onto a mugger. “Looks like we’ve got guys on the ground.”

“He looks like we should give him a sippy cup and a nap. Are you kidding?”

“He’s wearing a mask. You can’t tell that.”

“It’s his size, and how he moves. He’s young. Come on, you can tell.”

“I’m choosing to be in denial about this.” He flipped through a few more video files and pulled another up, the kid grabbing an out of control car before it could hit a dog-walker tangled in a half dozen leashes. “Strong.”

“Freakishly.”

“Hey.”

“That wasn’t judgmental. Geez, you’re sensitive today.”

“I think you’re right; that’s a kid.” He shoved his tablet aside, revealing a copy of the Daily Bugle; he slid it over to her. There was a distant shot of the guy on a water tower somewhere. The headline screamed 'Vigilante Menace Spreads to Mid-Town!’

“You want me to find him?” Darcy asked.

“No. I mean, yes, if you want to look for him. I’ve got Friday plotting a map of where he’s showing up most often. Mostly around Queens — Elmhurst, Rego Park, Forest Hills. He’s living somewhere in there.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t approach him. Let me.”

“If it’s a kid, maybe I’ll be less—”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he cut her off, “but I don’t want him on SHIELD’s radar yet.”

“Oh, yeah,” she said, feeling a little stung.

“The Accords are on me, Darcy. Let me deal with this. That’s all it is, I promise.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t be like that.”

“I’m not being like anything. You’re right. I don’t know what’s going on with SHIELD, so, that’s a good plan.”

“You’re still sticking?”

“I guess it depends on how this all shakes out with the Accords. Which are shit, by the way.”

“I know. I know they’re shit. What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing. Sorry.”

“God,” he breathed out on a harsh breath. “No, talk to me. You’re the only person I trust to be rational here.”

“Everybody panicked. You panicked. They rammed these through. I don’t even know how they managed to pass them through all those committees so fast. That’s like, unheard of.”

“King T'Chaka is persuasive.”

“I guess. And everything I’ve ever heard about him says he’s a good man, not even a teeny-tiny whiff of scandal anywhere near him. So, I’m okay trusting him, but we know the WSC was compromised. Who’s to say this UN council won’t be, too? And even if it’s not, when we’re talking about something like the Dark Elves or Chitauri, are we all just supposed to sit there while some committee decides what to do? How many people will that kill?”

“There has to be a line, Darcy. We are not above the law. We are not … we can’t operate like this. We can be the response team, but we have to be in check, too. Or what? What’s to stop us the day we decided somebody’s a threat before they even do anything? Are we judge, jury, executioner? And we’ll just roll into any country we want, destroy cities, lives, in our drive for that rightness?”

“I’m not saying you’re wrong. I’m not. But, the way the Accords are set up, there’s no room to move in an emergency. And registration? God, I don’t like that. I just don’t like that. Why target individuals with powers? I’m pretty sure SHIELD will sign, but the problem is that then every individual powered person within SHIELD has to sign, too. And then every operation with a powered agent has to be submitted to review. What bullshit is that?”

“You’ll have to sign. I’ve had a request to disclose who has a suit — so you and Rhodey. I haven’t reported it yet, I can bury you, but if you’re ever spotted in it —”

“Don’t perjure yourself on my account.”

“Will you sign?”

“I don’t know, dad. I don’t know. Probably. Because you’re right, there has to be a line. The Avengers’ power needs to have a balance. I just don’t like the Accords, and I know we can change them, but I don’t like putting my name to something that’s starting out so deeply flawed. What am I agreeing to? Even if it can be changed?”

“I know.”

“The part about the Raft.”

“I knew you’d hate that.”

“Extraordinary detention? Where’s due process?”

“It’s temporary.”

“With Ross in charge? My ass it’s temporary.”

“I want it noted, I’m fighting his appointment. Jesus, I’ve had meetings on the Hill all week, and I’ll have more all next week. And then the hearings. Christ. I hate that town.”

“I hope you win, because he’s an f'in disaster all by himself.” She snarled a little and shook her head. “How does he still have a job? After Harlem and all that shit.”

“There are too many people who invested too much into him,” Tony said with a disgusted twist of his lips.

[chokefriends]

Pit-town Strays, Ch.5

Kidlaw softness and redneck shenanigans in a northern mining town. Everything’s fucked but whatever.

Rated T, no warnings. Ch 5: Law explores his escape routes but knows he isn’t going anywhere.

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 4 - [Ch. 5]

Read on Ao3 too, I’m Ossicle

Law was still staring at the same channel when Bellamy and Dellinger returned an hour later. Law heard them rumble up, and muted the sound to signal the all-clear.

“Fish tacos for Bellamy, gross curry for Law,” Dellinger unpacked their takeout onto the coffee table and dug into his own.

“Thanks,” Law muttered, but didn't get up from the armchair.

“Uh,” Bellamy pointed furtively to Law's arm. The wrist was purpling.

“Shit…” Law pulled his sleeve down over it and hooked his thumb through a hole in the hem. “Whatever. Whacked it on a thing.”

Bellamy stayed standing for a minute, scuffing a toe into the carpet. “Dad’s been worried a lot, is all,” he tried eventually.

“Yeah I know,” Law answered in the same tone.

“Y’know, cuz of this one,” Bellamy jabbed his thumb at the smallest of the three and shook his head.

“...”

The blunt face creased irritably at Law's silence, and Bellamy gave up. He sat down with a grunt to tear into his own takeout box.

“Dellinger,” he grouched at the only other target in the room, “Stop tryna reconstruct the squid, just eat it. God, can you not be such a psychopath? You're making everyone upset—”

“Bellamy.” Law cut him off with a warning look. “He's right here, don't say that.”

Dellinger seemed unperturbed, but very little ever seemed to bother him. “Actually, ‘psychopath’ is not even a thing anymore? And I don't fit the criteria according to this online test I took.”

“Psycho,” Bellamy accused.

“Not!”

Law rose with a sigh and went to sit between them on the couch. “What’d you get, Del.”

“Tentacles,” Dellinger showed him his seafood, with all the squid pieces collected in a little squidlike arrangement.

“Huh. Looks better than the frog leg thing, I guess.”

“That was just an experiment. I wasn't gonna eat it,” Dellinger rolled his eyes. “I saw online that the legs move by themselves if you put em in a saltwater solution. I just wanted to try.”

“That's pretty cool,” Law reassured him.

Bellamy scoffed. “That he's killing off all the pondlife around here? Yeah it's great.”

“I’m not even killing em, just snipping off their extra legs! Most of the frogs here have like three legs and four eyes anyway. Or more, closer you get to the Pit. It's the runoff.”

“Huh… Wonder if it'll start morphing humans too,” Law mused.

“Prolly just gives humans cancer.” Dellinger gave it some thought. “You think human legs could move by themselves?”

“Only one way to find out,” Law joked.

Bellamy gave a sudden snort of disgust, picked up his dinner, and disappeared off to his room. The door thunked shut and Nickelback started blaring through it.

Law ignored all this, but Dellinger looked at the closed door in confusion, then went back to stirring his food and fidgeting. They ate in silence for a while.

“I don't wanna make people upset,” the skinny kid spoke up eventually.

Law nodded, still chewing, but didn't respond right away.

Dellinger speared a tentacle and frowned at it. “I don't think it hurts them for real. And it's not like Dad or anyone even cares about frogs. Bellamy thinks it's funny to run them over…”

“I think they're worried about how it'll look to other people,” Law explained.

“Other people are stupid.”

“Yeah,” Law agreed. “Anyway, just stick to animals with extraneous appendages. And don't take any more experiments to school.”

“It’s not like I'm gonna take the legs off people's pets or whatever. Geez. It's just frogs…” Dellinger sighed and got up to go to bed as well. His room was way upstairs on the second floor, where Bellamy and Law used to sleep when they were younger.

“Take your plate,” Law reminded him automatically.

“Why does everybody always tell me what do do… I hate it.” He started to go upstairs.

“Dellinger, take your fucking plate.”

“You take it.”

“You wanna get in trouble with Dad?” Law warned him, “You're not a baby anymore, just clean up your shit.”

“You're supposed to do all that.” Dellinger shot back, hanging off the bannister and pouting.

“I'm supposed to fucking what now?”

“Well, I'm not the one who gets in trouble when stuff's not clean. You're here to take care of us, or you have to go back to the reservation, right?”

Law's eyebrows flew up in disbelief, and then creased in anger. “I'm not fucking ‘on loan’ from wherever; I'm your fucking brother!”

Bellamy shouted from behind his closed door, “Dellinger! Take your plate upstairs or I swear to god your psycho ass is getting shipped to foster care!!”

Dellinger stomped his way upstairs instead, leaving his dinner behind.

Law snorted and sat back with arms crossed. He was going to storm off to his own room too, but he kept looking back at the leftover tentacles sticking up obscenely from the styrofoam container. He made a noise of muffled rage and threw the entire thing in the trash. There. Jesus... Now at least he wouldn't get any bruises that he hadn't fucking earned himself.

His phone buzzed.

Kidd: Where the fuk r the bandaids, u let nami use em all?

Law stared at the screen for a moment, head starting to pound, then fired back:

You: I don't fyckig know where the band-aids are im not your fucking housekeeper and I don't got any control over your shitass kid for CHRIDT SAKE

The phone buzzed again but Law flicked the notification away.

He brought up Baby's number instead and escaped outside into the darkness and silence. She didn't pick up at first and he had to call back a few times, as usual. By the time she picked up, he'd gotten himself hidden away in the passenger side of the Volvo with the seat leaned all the way back.

Baby sounded cogent but irritable. “Geez, you got Buff thinking I got another man,” she complained.

“‘Buff’ is a stupid name.” Law massaged the bridge of his nose.

“Not as stupid as ‘Buffalo,’” she sighed.

“Jesus, his parents actually named him that?”

“Yeah, they hippies.”

Law snorted. “Native hippies?”

“It's a thing.”

Law licked his lips and tried to think of what to say next, but his throat felt tight.

Baby prompted him, “Well, what up, big brother. You want a ride somewhere?”

“That's not the only reason I ever call you.”

“Haha… little bit.”

Law swallowed a surge of guilt. “Sorry. I’ve been kinda stretched thin these days—”

“Yeah I know. Big man, you. Important stuff to do.”

“I wanna see you more, though. You ever think about that thing we were talking about before? Getting mom and dad's old place back? Where we all lived before they got sick…”

Baby took a moment to answer. “Heh… I see it sometimes, when I'm driving around here.”

Law smiled. “Yeah? So how's rez life treating ya.”

“It's chill. I dunno, small. It's weird sometimes, even jus trying to like, hang with people. You know? They think I'm after something, I guess…”

“Probably just takes time.” Law reassured her. “Probably once we're both living there again and people get used to us—”

She interrupted, “Law, you don't actually think you'll end up here, right?”

“Why not?”

Baby always did that little huff thing when she had something to say. She did it twice and then put on her stern voice. “Like, what would you even do on the rez. There's no sushi, no fancy little coffee shops, and the first time you get too smart you'll get your perfect teeth all knocked down.”

“‘Knocked out,’” he corrected under his breath. “And what, you think I can't handle myself?”

“You don't wanna be here, is what I'm saying. You're too used to that whole life.”

“What whole life.”

“You know what I mean,” Baby sniffed. “Suburbia. Sunday brunch. Sunscreen…”

“That stuff’s not…! I’m not… You think I wanted to get adopted white??” Law challenged.

“Least you got adopted.”

Law had had enough. “Well, it's been a super load off my chest talking to ya, baby sister.”

“Don't get sarcastic with me,” she snapped.

“Give Buffy my bestest,” he continued.

“It’s ‘Buffalo.’”

He scoffed. “Sure. Also, he's our first cousin on mom's side.”

“He's wh—?!!”

Law hung up with a petty little burst of triumph. The feeling didn't last long, though.

“Shit…”  

He sat there kicking at the glove box and letting his anger ebb away into shame. There was a black marker in the center console, and he took up his little dot-decorations again, this time on the sleeve of his hoodie. He circled and filled in wandering patches until his foggy head had cleared and he could look at his phone again.

I do wanna see you more, he texted to Baby, who didn't reply.

Law sighed and moved on to the results of the outburst just before that one. He clicked back into the convo with Kidd, expecting harsh words.

That bad eh, Kidd had replied simply to Law's rant.

Law snorted. He tapped the phone icon and waited.

“G’day,” came the wry answer.

“The fuck you need band-aids for now?” Law questioned him.

Kidd put on a tragic tone. “I got a boo-boo, man. I need that animal sticker magic.”

“Oh? What'd you do.”

“Punched a goose.”

Law laughed out loud, unexpectedly. “You fucking did not,” he put his feet up on the dash and tried not to sound like he was smiling.

“Yeah… well, it was beating up on this one poor dog chained up in a yard. Only dog on a leash in the whole place, seriously.”

“Your yard has a dog post in it too, right? Where'd that one go?” Law remembered the lonely post with the deep path tread around it.

“Oh… yeah, dad took her with him when he left last year—this German shepherd he got us as a present because he was always gone. She was supposed to keep us out of trouble, I guess, but she kept taking off and like, trying to herd coyotes or whatever, haha… He eventually chained her up in the yard and she just wore that circle into the ground every day.”

“That's so shitty,” Law shook his head.

“Yeah. I hope he took her somewhere she can run… anyway, whatever.” Kidd coughed, seeming to not wanna talk about it further.

“Yeah. Uh… So you defeated the goose, eh.”

“Hah! Not even—I had to get back on the bike and run for it! At least I drew it away from the dog.”

Law let himself laugh. “Yeah, aw, you saved it!”

Kidd laughed too. “I should've just let it off the leash. It probably would've fucked that goose up itself.”

“Well, I'll bring you animal band-aids next time I come.”

“Thanks. Uh.” Kidd paused. “So you're gonna come back?”

Law's lightened mood abruptly darkened again. He examined the purple patterns trailing from sleeve to skin—vivid and unbearably obvious. “Yeah, uh. Maybe not tomorrow, though...”

“No?”

“I got school stuff.”

“Oh, yeah. Day after?”

“Maybe the day after that…” Law evaded. He tried coloring in the dark blotches with marker, casting around for a topic to get away from this one. But Kidd seemed to read his silence anyway.

“Hey uh. You know you can just stay here? Whenever? However long,” Kidd offered.

“Uh.”

“And I don't mean as like, a live-in nanny thing either. You don't have to do anything. I don't think of you as a housekeeper.”

Law wanted to cringe away under the seat. “Nono, I don't actually think you think that! I was just lashing out about other stuff.”

“All the cleaning is kinda weird, tee-bee-aych.”

“I know. It's compulsive.”

“But you could just… stay,” Kidd emphasized again, like all this was simple.

Law stared off into the darkness beyond the windshield. He could imagine what it'd be like, sleeping with his head on a strong shoulder, breathing warmth, in a tiny house like a shoebox-nest full of other scuffed-up odds and ends. It sounded worlds better than fucking sunday brunch and sportscars…

“I don't think I can right now.”

“No, eh.”

“Anyway, I gotta get to sleep,” Law mumbled apologetically. “School tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Kidd switched back to whatever-mode.

“I'll text you, eh? When I'm thinking of coming over.”

“Yeah, sounds good, you got my number.”

“Yeah.”

Law hung up and sat there, chewing his lip and breathing the stuffy air of the Volvo. He could just drive to Kidd's right now. Just go. But then what, wear gloves? Invent some goose story of his own? No… he couldn't leave like this, at least not yet.

But he couldn't make himself go out of the car and back to the house either.

He let his mind wander through its worries and his hands perform their restless tasks, until his phone died and the marker ran out. Then he curled up in the passenger seat to sleep.