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slasherrabbitmadness · 3 years

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Beach day with the Slashers

Female Reader -Bo- Gender-neutral -everyone else-

Bo- Fingering but no penetration. Dirty talk.

Angst and Fluff with Herbert and Dan (They pronouns used for Y/N) Fluff with Michael and Jason.

Michael Myers (1978 with the extra height of the 2018 one)

> Wants to visit the beach during the day. He’ll even have his mask off. Instead of enjoying the beautiful view of the sun hitting the blue ocean, you spend your day staring at your handsome boyfriend.

> Michael is just there to scan for new victims. He kills people who litter, hates seeing wrappers and cigarette butts littered across nature.

> You egg him on to go swimming, it takes a lot of coaxing. “Please, Michael, just for a little bit.” He points to your belongings on the towel, “They’ll be fine, who’s gonna want to steal some sandwiches and some towels?” He shook his head. You got down on your knees and gave him sad puppy dog eyes. He grumbled then lifted you onto his shoulder, you squealed as you placed your hands on his firm back, rubbing his taut muscles.

> When he got up to his pecs in the water he threw you in. You came up for air, “Mikey, what the hell!?”

> “What? You wanted in the water.” He gave a small smile.

> He made you swim in front of the beach while he just stood in the water and watched. He knew you’d be fine, it was your belongings he was worried for. You caught his eyes, his already dark blue eyes were now matching the deepest parts of the ocean. He barreled through the water, pushing you aside. You watched him as he made his way up onto the beach.

> Some fuck had the bright idea to do some stealing. He just happens to choose the one man’s belongings you don’t fuck with.

> Before that guy had time to react to a six-foot-three man, hauling ass like he is a tiger chasing after a deer, Michael clocked him so hard in the face the man immediately went down.

> People stood around Michael, some congratulating him for knocking out a thief, others gawked “My God he swung that punch so hard.” “Is the thief even breathing?” Michael stood over your belongings, and turned back towards you, just making your way out of the ocean. Michael was mad, but not as mad at what he saw next.

> Some random beach Chad made his way over to you, “Yo, that was wild huh?” You gave a quick, “Ya.” not caring to speak to him, just wanted to get back to your boyfriend. “He just knocked that guy out in one punch.” You made your way up the beach, he grabbed at you “Hey, be careful, probably want to stay aw-”

>The poor sap never stood a chance, Michael swung his fist so hard Chad went flying back into the water.

> “I’ve had enough, we're leaving.”

> You were gonna protest, but when you scanned the crowd, you realized that yeah, we’re gonna go home.

> Walking back home, Michael held your hand, tightly. “Mikey?” He grunts, “You don’t like people touching your belongings, huh?” You turned to look up at him and he caught you in a kiss. He snuck his tongue in, dominating yours, you moaned and he pulled away. You whined and he smiled.

> “what’s mine is mine.”

Jason Voorhees

> He’s the beach’s lifeguard, so if you wanna spend a beach day with Jason, you’ll have to do it after hours. You would, but Jason takes the evening shifts too.

> Everybody loved Jason. Kids loved him, he was always so nice to them after all. He gave them swimming lessons. He was always so patient with them, never getting mad if a kid was struggling to grasp the basics.

> Men and Women loved Jason. His stoic demeanor, his calming presence...his bulging muscles. Jason was oblivious to all kinds of flirting. “Your hands are like, so big!” said a bubbly tanned beach bunny. Jason just grunts. A muscle-bound beach bro asked, “Bet you lift a lot eh, what’s your macros?” Jason just looked at his large bicep, he shrugged.

> When you visit him at work he gives you small waves then his eyes go right back to the water, not wanting to miss anything. Dedicated <3

> He doesn’t take a proper lunch break, he’ll eat his food while watching the beach, scarfing down the food as fast as possible.

> After a long day, you’ll finally have Jason all to yourself.

> Night swimming!

> You and Jason have splash fights, that he often wins, his large palms create huge splashes that knock you back into the water.

> Keeps you incredibly close in the water, will bug you to wear a life jacket if you ever swam without him. He’s very protective.

> Holds you close to him the further out you go. He won’t let you go, so it’s the perfect time to smother him in kisses.

> Jason hums into your kisses, his large hands running up and down your back, the water and his hands feel perfect on your skin.

> Jason couldn’t be happier that you're together.

Herbert West + Dan Cain - Poly relationship or what Derrick Barry calls a ‘throuple’

> “Please Herbert, for me?” He grimaced at you. Don’t you know how busy he is? Perfect specimens don’t just end up dead you know? Someones gotta end a life! You sighed and brought out the big gun. “Well, Dan said-” The moment Dan left your lips, Herbert was pushing you and him out the door.

> You and Dan had a blast, building castles, collecting seashells, playing some beach volleyball with another friendly couple.

> Herbert sulked under the beach umbrella, nose in a large medical textbook.

> “If you come with us, Herbert, we’ll get you a grape freezie!” Dan coaxed but it did not affect Herbert. Herbert waved you both off as if you were two mosquitoes bugging him.

> You and Dan walked hand in hand, swinging them in between yourself on your way to the little concession stand. “You sure it was for the best we brought him, Dan?” Dan looked at you and frowned, your eyes were a little glossy. “He only came because you were coming.” You felt the tears rolling down your cheek.

> “fuck, Herbert, you little monster.” Dan cursed to under his breath. Dan knew Herbert gravitated more towards him. It’s not that Herbert didn’t like you, just Dan was there first. Dan never told you but he often caught Herbert staring at you, a softness in his eyes that Dan knew meant one thing…

> “I’m sorry…” You mumbled, quickly rubbing the back of your hand over your eyes. Dan shushed you and brought you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head.

> “Don’t be, Herbert should be. Some Vitamin D is much needed for his pale little body. I’ll talk to him, okay? In the meantime, focus on me!”

> Dan and you continued with the most fun day ever. You ate your freezies, swapping flavors halfway through. A little boy asked Dan to help with flying his kite, Dan’s height coming in handy.

> Herbert stewed in his spot under the umbrella, watching you and Dan have fun, “Hmph, wasting time.” He kept peeking from his book, eyes on you, how you smiled when you looked into Dan’s eyes, how you leaned in closer, head resting on his shoulder. How Dan wrapped his arm around your waist, lips on your ear whispering...God knows what, Herbert can only imagine.

> “They could just yank me away from this, make me spend time with them...not that I want to. But if they dragged me away from my book then I’d have no choice.”

> When it got late, You and Dan packed away everything into the bags, Herbert supervised. How helpful/s

> Dan had you drop a few of the smaller items at the car on your own, he made Herbert help with some of the heavier items. As your figure became smaller and smaller in the distance, Dan turned to Herbert, “You know, they wer-”

> “I can’t believe you two, frolicking about so openly.” Herbert had cut Dan off. Herbert fumbled with the bags while trying to push up his glasses. Dan fumed.

> “You mean act like a couple, which we are, which you're a part of. Or are you only a couple with me?”

> Herbert snapped “excuse me, you and Y/N are most certainly a couple, which I have no part of.”

> Dan scoffed and shook his head “They want to be with you too, Herbert, They do like you, They feel upset with how you treat them. Now I know deep down you adore them, you best start showing it.”

> Herbert stopped, he looked at Dan and then at you in the distance starting the car.

> Later that night, Herbert had asked if you’d help in the basement. As tired as you were, you went to help. Herbert scarcely looked at you, but he found ways to touch you. Hands ghosting over yours as you handed him some flasks. Grabbing your hips softly to move you out of the way.

> “Everything good, Herbert?” You asked. His eyes looked everywhere but you. He stepped a little closer to you, His face only a foot away.

> He smashed his lips onto yours and wrapped you up in his arms. His hands rubbing along your sides, pulling you in so tight you were surprised he was strong enough to bring pain that way.

> “Don’t cry over me. Okay?” Your face felt hot, you nodded. “You are mine too, not just Dan’s, okay?” You nodded again. “Good. Now kiss me.”

> The kiss started tender but that just wasn’t gonna cut it with all the tension between you two.

Bo Sinclair /Female reader/

> Lookin’ at all the pretty girls go by.

> Catches you catching him staring, flashes his baby blues at you, “C’mon darling, you know you're still the apple of mah eye.”

> Gets pissed when other guys check you out. Strolls on over and wraps an arm around you, sneering at the Chads and Kyles.

> “You just had to wear that sexy little number, didn’t ya?” He snarled in your face. You grabbed your tits in the cute red bikini and gave them a Lil shake.

> Bo yanked you away from the beach, you protested, hitting his large forearm, “Bo, what the hell? Oh come on, you act like a leech an-” He cut you off, his lips slammed onto yours, the kiss was teeth and a little tongue action.

> Bo had yanked you away to some run-down looking bathrooms, the paint was so old it looked like the original coat from the 1960s

> “Now, Darlin, looks like you’ve just been wanting to rial me up now, huh? Wanting those sons of bitches to fuck you?” He leaned in close to your ear, his heavy breathing making you shake with anticipation. He suckled on it, causing you to buckle at the knees.

> “Bo, no I didn’t wan-want ah, the- them to” You were panting as he made small circles on your clit over your bikini bottoms. His fingers were calloused but he could be surprisingly gentle.

> “Now, yah best be quiet so no one hears ya, understood, Doll?” You whimpered and Bo flashed you his pearly whites. “That’s a good girl.”

> You should make him jealous more often.

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keelywolfe · 3 years

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FIC: Pity in Short Supply (baon)

Summary: In the aftermath of the kidnapping, Red has a few thoughts. There's a reason he's always called 'em liabilities.

Tags: Kustard, Domestic, Established Relationship, Sans/Underfell Sans, Aftermath of a kidnapping, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Underfell Papyrus/Underswap Papyrus, Background Spicyhoney, A Touch of Lemon Goodness

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

By the time the sun was thinking about hopping over the horizon and getting started on its daily workout, the warehouse parking lot was starting to clear out. All the ambulances were long since gone, the only one of ‘em with a person in the back was the guy who was still stuck in that weird foam shit.

Red didn’t believe in karma; he’d spent much too long eating shit himself for that, but if there was any lingering threads of justice still clinging stubbornly in the air, it’d take a long, painful time to get that fucker loose.

Most of the Embassy Security teams were heading back with all the evidence stacked in their backseats and Red was standing in a shadowed corner away from the streetlights watching them pack it in. Some of ‘em would start working on interviewing the kidnappers who didn’t need a few hours to cut them loose from a little chemical warfare, along with the agents the FBI shipped their way. Some were gonna work on getting shit together for the inevitable interviews with the kidnappees sometime this afternoon. Red had some pull and plenty of strings to yank, but even he wasn’t gonna be able to hold back the tide of questions much longer than that.

There was probably gonna be a fit pitched somewhere along the line that he’d sent his trouble twins home to sleep before getting much info, but Red would have to hula that hoop when it rolled in. Wasn’t only about Stretch, it was about his bro; there was only so much the boss could take before he slammed face-first into his breaking point and he’d been skating a little too fucking close tonight for Red’s taste. Better to let him take his pretty little liability home, clean him up, spend a li’l time rubbing his scent all over him again like a dog in heat and wasn’t it a damn good thing none of ‘em could piss.

The last thing any of ‘em needed was his bro snapping and hauling his honey away like a shorter, skinnier, bald version fucking King Kong.

(and was the memory of his brother's bleak face as he sat there waiting for answers while Red lied out promises about getting his liability back in one piece gonna haunt his nightmares, fuck yes, 'course it was, gotta balance those books somehow, there was always a price, he'd learned that lesson fast while he was still carrying his baby bro on the streets. always a price, fucking always)

Red wasn’t too worried about losing any info, anyway. Wasn’t much chance of Stretch forgetting much, not with that eidetic memory of his. Not being able to forget was half of his fucking problems to begin with.

Out in the mostly deserted parking lot, the last couple agents were finished packing up their car, not even seeming to give him a second glance as they climbed in. ‘Seeming’ was the real shit there, to anyone who wasn’t used to watching. The driver, a deceptively slender deer Monster, their antlers cut stylishly down, paused just long enough for their eyes to flick his way. The subtlest of looks, but that was it. They didn’t make a show of asking if Red wanted a ride, didn’t play any ego trips over spotting him, just hopped into the car and sped off.

Good instincts. Red made a mental note to keep an eye on that one. Good, not great, ‘cause they didn’t notice the one standing further back behind him, the guy who took up the best shadows before Red even showed up.

He stepped up now, hands stuffed into his pockets as he shuffled his way to stand next to Red, untied shoelaces dragging on the damp asphalt. They stood there together while the first unbearable rim of sunlight crested and took the shadows with it, bathing them in painful, golden light.

Red pulled out a cigar and bit off the end, spitting it to the ground. He lit a match with a flick of his thumb and held the tip in the wavering flame. When the end was smoldering, he flicked the match into the puddle, the faint hiss of it extinguishing unheard as he asked in a cloud of exhaled smoke, “how’s it going, sansy?”

Red was looking at the empty parking lot, the puddles dotting it like a scattering of miniature lakes across a land of broken asphalt, so he didn’t see Sans shrug, but he could feel it, a ripple in the still air around them. “went like clockwork. we planned for this sort of shit, you know, planned it out for years. worked out possible sceneries with fuzzybuns, toriel, all the diplomats.” Sans’s ever-present smile widened humorousness, “even had a few for edge and stretch, guess we shoulda brainstormed on those ones a little more. don’t know if we coulda come up with that one, though. drugging him was always a contingency, but no one guessed they’d strip his ass down and lose every damn tracker on him.” Another tight shrug, one quick. cramped motion, “we’ll know better next time.”

The plume of smoke rising from Red’s cigar curled in the air, drifting like a mist in the dawn light. Red watched it and nothing else, letting his sockets fall half-closed as he followed the wispy path with his eye lights. “ain’t asking about the fucking ops. how’s it going, sansy.”

There was a long moment of silence, broken only by the rough scrape of gravel shifting under Sans’s feet as he rocked on his heels. “you know, i took up with the security department for paps,” Sans said conversationally. “wanted to keep a close eye on him when he went traipsing around the big bad world to spread the good word. back underground, that whole sentry schtick was an excuse for a paycheck, i wasn’t guarding anything but my own g and a nap.”

“yeah?” Red stuck his cigar between his teeth and bit down, tasting the scatter of soggy, bitter tobacco on his tongue as the jagged tips tore through the fragile wrapper. “that so, sweetheart?”

“yeah, that’s so, dollface,” Sans chuckled mirthlessly. “little ironic, ain’t it, that it turns out i’m good at this shit. who would’ve thought.”

“yeah, never woulda guessed a judge might not be bad at the whole diggin’ up covert info,” Red shook his head sadly, “a shock, really, that ya could put that empty skull of yers to some good use.”

“sweet talker. gonna end up sleeping downstairs with the cat you keep that shit up.”

“fuck, don’t do that,” Red shuddered. “already worried if i don’t get up fast enough to feed that bitch, she’d gnaw off my pinky toe before i wake up.”

“that picky little shit wouldn’t eat you if you rolled yourself up like sushi and slathered on caviar.” Sans hesitated, then asked, softer, “how’s stretch doing?”

“like shit.” Red didn’t bother to cushion it; his pity came sparingly and Sans could take it. “he’s got his judge all cranked up to eleven. caught a helluva glimpse of me when i got here, thought he was gonna puke on my shoes.”

Sans let out a long, ragged exhale. “that’s my fault,” he said bleakly, “i got him to hit his on switch to look for that lost kid, should’ve known he’d have a hard time shutting it down again.”

“maybe.” Red wasn’t too concerned about it. If Stretch wanted to retire and shove all that down into the dark, wasn’t any dust off his ass, but the only way he’d lose it entirely would be if someone ripped it out of him by way of a dustpan. “if those fuckers hadn’t tried to pull a limburger baby on the kid, then it woulda died back down on its own.”

This time Sans chuckle was more real, a little honest humor creeping in. “don’t let stretch hear you call him kid, he’s already got his panties twisted halfway up his spine.”

Red scoffed, tapping away the ash gathering at the tip of his cigar. “honey bun might be the same age as us, but he ain’t as old as we are. don’t matter how the universe tried to age him up.”

The sound Sans made might’ve been a hum of agreement or the juicy, hawking prelude to spitting. The sun hadn’t had a chance to chase away the evening chill and Sans’s jacket was zipped up against it. Over the tab of his zipper, nearly concealed by neckline of his hood, Red could see the glossy rim of well-oiled dark leather, the slightest glint of metal. He let himself look at it for a long moment, take a sip of dark satisfaction at seeing his collar right where it was supposed to be. Then he looked away, back across the empty, crumbling parking lot.

Sans didn’t try to touch him, only shifted his stance until their fingers brushed in a way that could pretend to be accidental, bone lightly scraping bone.

“we should get going,” Red said. The sun was climbing higher, the stars giving way to gauzy, useless clouds. At least stars were interesting, a reminder there was another Aboveground than this one, another path upward that might someday be reached. “we got a lot of shit to do downtown.”

“we do,” Sans agreed. He tipped his head in Red’s direction, slanting him a glance out of the corner of his socket. His eye lights were tinted golden by the sunrise, sly and knowing in a way that had nothing to do with magic. “want me to blow you in the stairwell before we take off?”

Red didn’t wait for him to finish, tossing his half-burned cigar into a puddle, dousing it and sending a splash of ripples through the still water. “fuck, yes.”

He followed Sans into the warehouse and in moments he was braced against the rusty handrail with his shorts around his ankles in the dust, shuddering at the feel of that hot, wet mouth around him, worshiping his cock with lovingly sinful familiarity. Every inch of his focus was taken up by that and there wasn’t room to think about a single other thing. Not even the phantom sensation of metaphorically getting flayed alive by a wild orange gaze, the unexpected, needle-sharp feel of every one of his sins digging in their spidery claws as they crawled up his spine.

He didn’t think about it at all.

-fin

#kustard #sancest #spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underfell sans #sans #by any other name

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ninjettey · 3 years

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Boys and Aliens ch 3(Final)

Sometime in the early afternoon Stitch woke to someone lifting Laddie out of his bed. Stitch was still half asleep when he saw Michael carrying Star out of the cave. He could hear voices further inside the cave that did not belong to his four friends. Stitch climbed out of bed and followed the voices into a tunnel. He could see three boys climb out the end of the tunnel, two had sharp, wooden sticks, and the other just carried a flashlight.

Stitch crawled up the wall of the tunnel before the exit and then climbed up the wall to watch the boys from above. He looked around the cavern and saw his friends hanging upside down, asleep. Stitch knew then his friends were not as human as they appeared and why he didn’t feel the need to attack them like other humans. Stitch listened to the boys’ voices as he crawled closer to them.

“I thought they’d be in coffins.”

“That’s exactly what this cave is,” Edgar replied. “One great big coffin.”

Edgar and Alan both began to climb one of the jagged rock walls.

“We’ve found them at their most vulnerable,” Edgar called back.

“Easy pickings,” Alan added.

“Hey!” Sam yelled at them from down below. “You just have to kill the leader!”

“How do we know which one he is?” Edgar replied. “We’ll have to kill them all.”

Alan turned his flashlight on the nearest vampire.

“Yeah,” he called, “we’ll start with the little one first. First come, first staked.”

Stitch has heard enough. He crawled quickly over to his friends as two of the boys climbed closer to Marko. One of the boys was aiming a stake at Marko’s chest right where his heart would be, pulling back to strike, “Goodnight bloodsucker!”

As the boy’s arm is coming down, Stitch leaps away from the wall and into the path of the stake. Stitch had landed onto Marko’s arms that were crossed against his chest. His claws digging into Marko’s jacket sleeves. When the stake connected with Stitch’s fur it snapped like a twig. Growling at the boys before he threw himself into the face of the boy in front of him and started clawing and biting as they fell to the ground. Several gaping wounds in the boy’s chest and face bleed profusely, “Get it off me!” “What is that thing?” Alan yelled as he and Sam tried to pry the creature away from Edgar so they could escape. Stitch was kicked off and hit the wall hard enough to stun him. Alan and Sam picked Edgar up and started crawling back through the tunnel with David on their trail.

The smell of blood woke the vampires. They all opened their eyes to see Stitch fighting with the boys that ran the comic book store and Michael’s little brother. Meaning Michael has betrayed them. They knew he wasn’t meant to be a vampire, and they knew Michael led the wannabe vampire hunters to their cave, their home. David spoke as he dropped from where he was sleeping, “You’re dead meat!” He chased after the boys. David caught Edgar by the ankle and was pulling him back. Sam and Alan held on to Edgar and pulled him into the sunlight causing David to let go when his hand burst into flames. David screamed in pain as his hand burned, letting go of the injured boy and retreating into the dark safety of the cavern.

The three boys, with great effort, climbed out of the cave and up the stairs getting as far from the angry vampires as they could only to find Michael had fallen asleep. Sam and Alan sat Edgar in the middle of the front seat. Sam had no idea how to drive, but he was going to have to if they wanted to escape the vampires.

David returned to the cavern to check on his brothers. He found they were unharmed, mostly. The only injuries any of them had besides his burnt hand was some claw marks on Marko’s arm from Stitch. They were standing around waiting for David, Marko had removed his jacket to check out the puncture wounds in his arm. They were already starting to close up by the time David joined their circle. His burnt hand won’t heal completely until after he has fed.

Stitch had stayed close to the brothers but out of their way. He was furious that someone came and attacked his friends and took Laddie. He was getting ready to leave the cave to track down Laddie, but Paul stopped him. Paul quickly picked up Stitch and hugged him like he was a stuffed animal, “Thank you! You saved us!” Stitch squirmed to get out of the tight hold the vampire had on him. “Paul, put him down,” David ordered as he lit a cigarette.

“We still have a few hours before sundown. Then we’ll go get Laddie, and deal with the Emersons’ and those two punks,” David finished his cigarette and threw the butt down. Stitch looked up to see David staring at him. “We were going to tell you tonight what we are. It seems like plans changed. We’re not exactly human. We are vampires. Creatures of the night, drink blood to survive, and can’t go out into the sun without bursting into flames.” David shows Stitch his slowly healing hand. “The four of us are grateful you showed up.” The other three vampires nodded their heads in agreement. “For now, let’s get some more sleep. Come nightfall, we have a pack member to rescue.” The four vampires jumped back up to their pole they were hanging from and were asleep before Stitch had crawled out of the tunnel.

Stitch found a small alcove inside the main cave that faced the entrance. He curled himself into a ball and fell into a light sleep. Still tired but wanting to stay alert in case the threat showed back up. He will not be losing any of his friends. Stitch may have landed on this planet with the motive to destroy it, but he has quickly grown attached to the strange creatures here. Maybe he could hold off on destroying the planet for a little bit longer.

As the sun was setting, the Emersons’ and Frogs were preparing to fight. They knew they screwed up and the vampires would be hunting them down. They had almost killed one of their own. Sam and Alan were arguing about who was going to babysit Edgar since he was badly hurt. “What the hell was that thing? It almost killed Edgar,” Alan asked a frantically pacing Sam. “I don’t know. Never seen anything like it.” Edgar was coming in and out of consciousness, his face and chest having been bandaged to the best of Alan’s abilities.

Michael was finishing nailing some boards over the windows downstairs. Star had started a fire in the fireplace. She had stayed close to Michael once they woke up. Laddie is hiding under Michael’s bed. Alan had threatened to stake him if he tried to attack them. Laddie was hoping his brothers and Stitch would come get him away from these people. He didn’t want to be human, he liked his new life with his brothers.

When the sun finally set, David and his boys woke for the second time. Flying into the main cave where Stitch was waiting. Marko held out his hand, “We’re flying.” Stitch took his hand and they flew out of the cave and towards the Emerson household. The closer they got the more excited they got. They spotted Michael and Sam running back into the house after retrieving their dog.

They land in a tree outside of the house. David didn’t want to just run in without a plan. That could get them killed. Who knows what is waiting for them inside. “Paul and Marko, you two stay together, watch each other’s backs. Dwayne, you’re with me. Only Laddie matters, everyone else can die for all I care. Stitch, I want to concentrate on finding Laddie,” David told his brothers before they took to the skies again.

Marko and Paul flew over to the attic window and listened for the sounds of heartbeats before breaking into the room. Speeding down the stairs, scaring Alan. The kid was standing in the hall facing the stairs leading to the first floor. Marko snuck up behind him and quickly snapped his neck and drained him. Paul had opened the door to Sam’s room. Edgar was still out cold on Sam’s bed. Paul pounced on him and tore his throat out, getting blood everywhere. Marko had come into the room with Alan’s body, “Two down.” They nodded to each other and left the room only to run into Sam’s dog. Growling, bearing his teeth at the vampires, the dog inched closer ready to attack.

Stitch was crawling along the ceiling sniffing for Laddie. He watched as Paul and Marko encountered the dog. Crawling past the vampires so that he was above the dog, he dropped onto the dog, and they started fighting. Stitch got the upper-hand after bringing his other two arms out. The bottom two arms held the dog while the upper two ripped the dog’s jaw off. The dog dropped dead from the blood loss. Stitch continued to search for Laddie.

Paul and Marko moved through the second floor looking for anyone else. They found Star hiding in a wardrobe inside one of the other bedrooms. She screamed when she came face to demonic face with the blondes. “Hey Star,” Marko laughed like a lunatic before lunging at the girl. He dragged her out of the wardrobe so he and Paul could kill the whiny bitch. They each took an arm and ripped her in two while laughing like little kids playing tug-of-war.

David and Dwayne didn’t even try to sneak in, they just busted down the front door. Michael and Sam were in the living room when the front door crashed open. Sam hid behind the couch with a bow and arrow. He peeked over the top of the couch with the bow ready. Sam aimed for Dwayne. Taking the shot, the arrow pierced Dwayne’s shoulder. All that did was piss Dwayne off more. Dwayne dove for Sam. The boy screamed at the top of his lungs. The vampire laughed as he bit into the boy’s neck. Pulling the arrow out so the wound could heal as he drank the boy dry.

Michael and David were mid-air fighting. Michael thought he had David. They collided into one of the walls decorated with many different animal heads, many of which had antlers. Narrowingly missing a deer head, David pushed Michael away from the wall, flying to the other side of the room. He also was aiming to impale Michael with antlers. David had both hands wrapped around Michael’s throat, squeezing the breath out of him. Michael grasped David’s wrists to pull his hands away. David just squeezed harder and laughed, “You could have lived forever. Instead you brought hunters into my home to kill me and my brothers. Big mistake.” David was done playing with this kid. Moving one of his hands to the back of Michael’s head, and with one final twist the fight was over.

Stitch had found Laddie hiding under a bed. He stuck his head under the bed, “Hi.” “Stitch!” Laddie climbed out from under the bed and hugged the alien. This time he didn’t fight it. The noise from the fighting had died down. Laddie and Stitch cautiously went downstairs and saw the four vampires were still standing. Paul and Marko had rejoined their brothers in the living room.

When they thought the fight was over, Max and Lucy walked into the destroyed living room. Lucy didn’t have time to question what was going on before Max had attacked her, determined to turn her. Max could see his boys had disposed of the young Emerson children, but he still wanted Lucy.

Everyone caught on to what Max was doing. The four of them attacked Max at once. Paul gripped Lucy around the waist and pulled her away from Max, causing Max to rip her throat out. Lucy was dead before she hit the floor. Dwayne, Marko and David were thrown across the room. “You could never follow orders, could you David?!” Max yelled at his first sired son. David got up and lunged for his maker once again. Max caught David by the throat and threw him into Paul and they both flew through the back wall. Dwayne jumped onto Max’s back, hoping to distract him long enough for Marko to stake him. Max was too strong. Both of them were tossed away like ragdolls.

Stitch and Laddie were watching from the stairs. “We got to do something. They’re going to lose,” Laddie cried. David, and Paul had recovered from their falls and were attacking again. Max just laughed as he had them both in headlocks.Paul was able to slip away, leaving Max to grab David with both hands and strangle him. David used his full strength to break one of Max’s wrists to get loose. The other three vampires surrounded Max and David. With their combined efforts, they were able to yank Max’s arm off his body. David tossed the severed limb into the lit fireplace.

Watching the limb burn, Stitch knew how he could help. He jumped to the top of the stair railing unnoticed by the vampires. While Max was screaming in pain from the lost limb, and before the Lost Boys could attack, Stitch leaped from the railing with a growl, the force of the leap destroyed the railing. Max turned to the noise in time to see a blue blur of fur fly at him. The momentum from Stitch’s leap had pushed both the head vampire and Stitch into the fireplace. Fireplace roared with a big explosion of flames. “STITCH!” Laddie yelled for his friend. The flames pull back into the now crumbled fireplace. Max was no more.

Smoke and ash fill the room. Everyone stared into what was left of the mantle. Dwayne had gathered a crying Laddie into his arms. As the smoke settled, some of the stones shifted. They all watched and waited, readying to start the fight once again. Only to be shocked when Stitch climbed out, shaking off the ash. He turned his nose up to the ceiling, and “ACHOO!” The force of his sneeze scooted Stitch across the bare floor. Once the Lost Boys saw Stitch was ok, they started laughing.

Well, all but David. He had to stop and take a deep breath from the overwhelming feeling of becoming the head vampire. The Lost Boys were now as they should be. No overbearing head vampire with allusions of building a family. David and his boys, his brothers liked the way their pack was, with one additional out-of-this-world member. Regaining his composure, David told his pack, “Let’s go home.” Dwayne carrying Laddie, and Stitch riding piggy-back on Marko they flew back to the cave.

Grandpa Emerson was about five minutes too late. He came home to a silent, destroyed, bloody mess. Numbly walking into the kitchen, he pulled a root beer from the second shelf labeled ‘Old Fart’. Twisting the top off and taking a drink, “Damn vampires.”

1095 Years Later

It really took Captain Gantu over a thousand years to find Stitch. He alerted the Grand Councilwoman. Gantu had watched the creature from the shadows, not approaching until the order to do so. When he reported to the Grand Councilwoman that Stitch was hunting dredges of society with a band of creatures of the night, she gave the order to stand down. He observed all six creatures from afar as they disposed of their recent kills. “But Grand Counci--”, Gantu was cut off. “I said stand down. That is an order. It’s been over a thousand years, and from the footage you have sent he is doing that world a service. You are to leave that planet at once,” Grand Councilwoman gave her orders. “Yes, Grand Councilwoman,” Gantu retreated to his ship and left the planet and Stitch behind.

Stitch watched as the Galactic Alliance Police cruiser left the atmosphere from the hidden entrance to their cave. He was free to live for eternity with his family. The five vampires and Stitch had already returned to their hidden cave for the remainder of the night. They never really changed their ways. Party all night, sleep all day. It’s fun to be a Lost Boy. The Boys and their Alien.

The End...

#the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys #marko the lost boys #paul the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #david the lost boys #paul #marko #dwayne #david

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coyotescribbles · 4 years

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Title: L’Ours et L’Loup Chapters: 1 Word Count: 5,143

He'd been a dragonslayer, once, fierce and skillful and widely-reknowned. Many had envied his prowess, and many, many more had paid him handsomely for exercising it.

Those days were behind him, now; he'd retired, rather than continuing to press his luck.

Now, Jorge lived a quiet, private life, raising goats and chickens and living off of the significant amount of money he'd banked over the course of his youth. It was a good life, even if he still sometimes felt that old adventurer's itch act up from time to time - the memory of dragon fire and the stench of molten metal and burnt flesh was enough to staunch it.

Peace and quiet.

At least, that particular day had started off quietly enough. He'd seen to his goats and scattered some grain for the hens before heading back inside for his own breakfast. His kettle was boiling, bacon was sizzling in the pan, birds were winging outside the window as a cool morning breeze wafted in, the goats were screaming...

...the goats were screaming.

Before he could even sit down to enjoy his meal, Jorge found himself storming back outside to see what the hell was going on.

And, smack in the middle of the goat pen, with a fat doe in its jaws, was the biggest goddamn wolf he'd ever seen.

-----

Hungry.

It was the first and foremost thought in her mind, and had been for some time now. Ever since she'd fled the sorcerer's tower, she'd had to scrounge for what little food she could find.

After all, she'd been taught how to kill, not how to hunt. And without her pack...

Grief lanced through the hunger for one brief, bright moment, and Jeanette whimpered to herself. How long had it been? She'd lost track of the days so quickly. She was certain that it had been more than a fortnight, but they'd all bled into one another once the panic had subsided and the anxiety and hunger had set in in its place.

She'd sated the latter as best as she could with kitchen scraps pilfered after nightfall, what few small animals she could catch, or a stolen chicken here or there. The deer were too quick even for her, their senses too keen, and she was too easily-worn down now to bother with them, anyway. She didn't even think she had the energy to shift back to her human form at this point...

She'd smelled the goats - and the chickens, and the cooking food - long before she'd seen the homestead. It had proven too tempting to resist, and she'd followed the scent for an hour before finding the source. The chickens she saw when she arrived would have been an easy meal, scattered about the yard as they were, but she was hungry, and the goats were much bigger, fatter, and penned in. The farmer, however, was out and about so in spite of her hunger, Jeanette had laid down in the bushes at the edge of the forest and watched for a while, until the farmer had finished his morning chores and gone back inside.

Then she'd slinked closer, watching the house more than she watched the goat pen, and when she was sure she had a window of opportunity, she'd leapt the tall fence, scrambled after the milling beasts until she'd grabbed the neck of the fattest one in her jaws-

The slamming of a door alerted her to the fact that she'd been caught, and she looked up - the bleating goat still hanging from her hungry mouth - just in time to see a literal giant of a man barreling towards her.

-----

Jorge didn't think when he saw the beast, he just reacted; he'd never had a wolf steal one of his kids before, and he would be damned if he was going to let this be the first. He'd been expecting a fight - after all, hungry wolves rarely abandoned a kill easily - but what happened next caught him off-guard.

The moment he'd thrown the gate open and stepped inside the pen, the wolf dropped the goat and bolted, making a beeline for the open escape route. It would have barreled right over him, too, if he hadn't reflexively reached out and sunk his near hand into its ruff, hauling it off its feet as easily as if it were a pup and throwing it back into the pen. But before he could pin the beast and draw his knife for the kill, it had regained its footing and leapt over the six-foot fence from a standstill like it was nothing.

"Oh, no, you don't-!" He couldn't just let it go, it had figured out where the food was, and if he didn't kill it now, it would come back again and again until he did, so he gave chase.

The wolf was quick, but he was, too - surprisingly so, for his age and size. He caught it again near the barn, seizing it by the tail and dragging it back; its sharp yelp of pain tugged at his heart, but he couldn't let it get away. Lunging forward, he caught it by the scruff once more and hauled it up, preparing to break its neck...

But something about the wolf's behavior made him pause before he could.

It was struggling, squirming and thrashing in his arms and snarling in fury and distress... he would have expected it to at least try to bite him. But it didn't.

He could feel its ribs and spine plainly now, too, even through its coat. It was starving, and yet it had abandoned an easy kill and was refraining from sinking its fangs into him.

Cursing himself, Jorge wrestled with the beast as he made his way to the barn door. Once there, he gave it a heave and, before it could get back up and run again, he hauled the heavy door shut and slammed the bolt into place - mere moments before it shook and rattled from the force of being hit from the other side. Safely locked up inside the empty building, the wolf could do no harm, and he could take the time to collect his thoughts and assess the situation.

-----

Jeanette hit the packed dirt hard enough to knock the wind from her lungs, and felt a burst of sharp pain in her shoulder where she'd landed. She ignored the pain, though, as she scrambled to her feet and ran for the door.

Only to have to slammed in her face.

She managed to turn at the last possible moment, slamming her good shoulder into it at full momentum. The door shook on its hinges, but it held, much to her great frustration. Snarling and whining, she pawed desperately at the heavy barrier, but it would not budge; on the other side, she could hear the heavy footsteps of the man as he retreated, and fresh panic welled up in her chest. He could be going to get a weapon, something he could use to finish her off - she had to get out, and quickly... but how?

The barn was small and sturdily-built, with only one door, two stalls - or, rather, one stall and one roost - and a minuscule hayloft above. She wasn't going to be able to dislodge any of the planks making up the walls, or dig under them through the hard-packed floor. But, perhaps...

Looking up, she examined the loft. Its ladder was constructed so that it hung parallel to the floor when not in use, and had to be pulled down with a hook in order to access the loft. No doubt this was to keep the goats out of the hay at night, but it wouldn't stop her. All she had to do was get up there, and then she could escape through the hatch and flee.

But getting up there would be the challenge: that was a good ten-foot jump, and with her injured shoulder she might not be able to pull herself up - or pull the ladder down, for that matter.

Gathering her haunches beneath her, Jeanette crouched low - and leapt.

She fell short, and hit the floor with a thud that jarred her aching shoulder. With a thin whine, she paced in a circle for a moment before trying again, this time giving herself a short running start. This time, she managed to get her forelegs over the edge, scrabbling and kicking at the bottom of the loft with her hind legs to try to propel herself over the edge before she fell again.

She failed in that.

Her claws dragged across the wood as she slipped and fell back to the floor, sending a fresh burst of agony through her shoulder and leaving her panting in a heap in the dirt and straw. For just a moment, she thought about trying to transform, so she could pull down the ladder, but when she actually tried the effort only left her feeling sick, dizzy, and even more drained than she'd been before.

So this was it. She'd escaped being the sorcerer's captive war dog only to meet her end, starving and exhausted, at the hands of a goat farmer.

For a long time, nothing happened. Quiet had settled outside once more as the chaos-induced panic had subsided. She didn't stir from where she'd fallen, only watched a ragged beam of dusty sunlight creep across the floor.

No sooner than she thought that it was taking the man an unusually long time to return to dispatch her, she heard the sound of footsteps approaching, and resigned herself to her fate.

-----

Jorge had spent the better part of the rest of that morning debating with himself.

The practical half of himself said that he should just kill the wolf and end the matter. The softer half, however, felt pity for the beast. It had been so terribly thin and fearful...

And he still didn't quite know what to think of its refusal to attack him.

Maybe it wasn't what it seemed - it was clearly habituated to humans in a way no proper wolf could ever be, and it was too big, too lanky, and when was the last time he'd seen a wolf so thoroughly black, or with blue eyes like that, anyway? No, it couldn't be a full-blooded wolf. Perhaps it was a half-breed - he'd heard of certain moneyed lords who had bred wolf bitches to wolfhounds to raise the resulting pups as fearsome guard dogs... and status symbols. Perhaps this was one of those, then, that had slipped its collar and run away. It wouldn't know how to hunt for itself, which would explain its sorry shape, and it would be drawn back to humans for food and companionship...

Well, there was only one way to be sure.

With a sigh of resignation, he'd returned to the kitchen to prepare another pot of porridge, into which he stirred a generous helping of diced ham, and another pan of bacon. Then, once the pot was cool enough to touch, he took a deep breath, gathered up the food, and headed back outside to the barn.

It was tricky to juggle the pot, the plate, and the heavy bolt, but in the end he managed, and opened the door just far enough to slip through. He needn't have worried, though; the wolf, while still there, simply lay in the middle of the aisle and didn't move at his appearance except to pin its ears back and utter a weak warning growl.

Jorge cautiously took a few steps closer, and it raised its head slightly, baring its teeth.

"Hey now, it's all right," he said, his voice low and soothing; "I ain't gonna hurt you..."

Another few steps, close enough now to set the pot of porridge within easy reach of the beast; it mustered up a fiercer snarl, tensing up and snapping its jaws in his direction, but he could see now that it was all for show. If it had wanted to attack him, it had had ample opportunity to do so... but he slowly backed away, regardless, not wanting to antagonize it.

Crouching down beside the door, he made himself smaller, less threatening, and just watched the wolf in the dim light of the barn.

It watched him, too, with those eerily keen blue eyes, a constant growl rumbling in its throat. But its gaze flickered between him and the porridge just a few handspans from its nose. If he hadn't known any better, he would have thought it was questioning him.

"Go on, you can eat it." He almost felt ridiculous talking to a wolf, but was it honestly any more ridiculous than talking to his goats? Or the hens? Even if it couldn't understand his words, he figured his tone might convey that it was safe.

And it seemed to work; after a few long, uncertain minutes, the wolf inched closer to the pot, stretching its neck out to sniff at the contents. Then, painfully slowly, it rose to its feet - now, Jorge could see it favoring its left front leg, and he felt a pang of guilt - and licked cautiously at the porridge.

Then, in the blink of an eye, the wolf's attention was entirely on the food as it hungrily bolted it down by the mouthful, finally licking the pot clean before rolling it onto its side and letting out a disappointed-sounding whine when it realized the porridge was entirely gone.

"Hey," Jorge clicked his tongue twice to get its attention; almost immediately, the wolf skittered away, darting into the goat stall to hide. It peered around the corner a moment later, ears back and baring its teeth again in a snarl that was even more halfhearted than the first. He was hardly fazed now.

"Hey now, I know you don't mean that," he said, picking a piece of bacon up off the plate and holding it out. "There's more, if you want it."

It just stared at him, then licked at its muzzle and laid down on its belly in the straw, resting its head on one curled-up leg. Jorge gave a slight shrug, and tossed the strip of bacon to it. watching as it landed near the wolf's muzzle, to be snapped up only a split second later.

Now it watched him even more intently, ears perking up as he held out another piece.

"See?" He coaxed, "it's food."

It took several minutes, but finally he was able to coax the wolf out of its hiding spot and closer to him - closer to the moment of truth he was seeking. Slowly, so very slowly, he drew it closer, until he was able to get it to take the bacon from his hand. It did so so gingerly that he was sure that this was no wild animal, it had to have belonged to someone before turning up in his goat pen.

Jorge held out the last piece of bacon, letting the wolf take it from his hand before slowly reaching out to rub its ears. It flinched away at first... but, notably, it didn't growl this time.

"There, see... you're no killer, are ya?" He said softly, burying his hand in the wolf's - dog's? wolf-dog's? - ruff to give its neck a scratch. This time, it leaned into the gesture with a low whine, its tail thumping weakly against the floor. "You're just lost 'n hungry, huh?"

It huffed softly, as if in reply, as it sank back down onto its belly, looking up at him with an almost pleading expression. It absolutely broke his heart.

"Well, you don't gotta worry now, you ain't lost anymore..."

-----

She'd been expecting him to kill her.

But he'd fed her.

And spoken so softly to her. And touched her so gently.

No one had ever treated her like that.

To the sorcerer, Jeanette and her pack had been tools, given the most basic upkeep and otherwise used mercilessly until they broke - or were broken by the madman himself. Their lot had been cold stone cells, cold meager rations, and ample servings of violence and the most twisted of magics.

To everyone else, she was a marauding beast, chased away with thrown rocks or sticks or even arrows whenever she was spotted.

No one had ever spared her a kind word or extended a gentle hand. Not after her mother's murder. Not until now.

It twisted something painful in her heart, and relieved it all at once.

And when he'd said "you ain't lost anymore"...

She wanted to be happy. Oh, she wanted so badly to be happy, to entertain the notion that she'd stumbled into a home - something she only dimly remembered from her very early childhood, something part of her had always ached to have again - but fear kept her from it. Fear that it was a ruse. Fear that it wasn't, but that if she revealed what she really was to him, that he would push her away, or worse.

She'd lived so long as a weapon, though... it wasn't really so much of a stretch to imagine living a while longer as a guardian, or even just a companion, was it...? It would be a quiet life. A peaceful life. She could be useful and safe and content, and he never needed to know her terrible secret.

So she'd closed her eyes with a heavy sigh and let him scratch behind her ears, murmuring soothingly - and, in spite of herself, in spite of her reluctance towards and fear of happiness... her tail thumped a soft rhythm against the hard dirt.

And when he inevitably rose to his feet to leave the barn, she got up, too, whining and grumbling softly to follow him.

The man looked down at her curiously, then shook his head and patted her back. "Well... I s'pose so. But if you get snappy again..."

Of course, Jeanette didn't have to be warned twice, and now that she had a full stomach she was on her best behavior, following at his heels, tongue lolling and tail drooping in relaxation despite her obvious limp. She could tell that he was watching her from the corner of his eye, alert to any sign of ill intentions, but he needn't have worried. She was calmer now than she'd been in weeks. She didn't even spare the chickens a passing glance.

And all it had taken was a warm meal and a little kindness.

He hesitated at the door to the house, looking back down at her once more, and she merely sat beside him, cocking her head to return the look with another soft whine... and he smiled slightly and shook his head, pushing the door open and letting her follow him inside. She indulged in a quick look around, sniffing about the kitchen and living room while he vanished through another door, returning moments later with a thick woolen blanket that he arranged in a sort of nest beside the fireplace; Jeanette looked at it curiously, then looked up at him in a silent question: What is this?

He gestured to it. "Go on, uh, lie down?" He said, not quite sounding sure of the command - but it clicked in her mind that this was for her. Another unexpected act of kindness.

Tentatively, she stepped onto the blanket, feeling her paws sink into the thick, soft material as she turned in a cautious circle. The rest of her followed suit a moment later; even as big as she was, the blanket nest felt like it could almost swallow her up. It was soft, and warm, and she couldn't remember ever feeling anything so wonderful.

With a long sigh, she sank down and closed her eyes, her ears drooping to the sides as she did.

"You just rest now, little one," the man murmured, briefly kneeling down to gently tousle her ruff before straightening up again. "Now, I gotta go outside for a bit, give the critters their lunch. You stay."

She didn't have to be told twice.

-----

It was so, so easy to settle in to the life she'd inadvertently blundered into.

The man had been cautious with her for the first few days, running through every "command" he could think of, and she played the part of a dutiful and well-trained pet perfectly.

Well... maybe not entirely perfectly. She allowed herself to "get distracted" or "pretend not to hear him" a few times, never in anything serious but enough to keep him from suspecting that she was anything more than what he thought she was. After all, even the best guard dog couldn't be perfect all of the time, right?

In the end, it was good enough. She slept by his hearth, she ate regular meals in his kitchen, she followed him about his daily routine. She healed, and grew sleeker and stronger than she'd ever been before. She guarded his home, even guarded his livestock - eventually.

She even let herself be happy, every now and then.

And once every week or so, in the darkest part of the night when the man was sound asleep, she would silently slip out, go to a spring hidden deep in the forest, and spend a few hours as a human again. She wasn't sure if she had to, but she also didn't want to risk getting stuck as a wolf, no matter how comfortable her life was. Besides, it felt nice to just soak in the cool water and the moonlight...

She would always be home again before the man awoke, and he never suspected a thing.

It was good, and quiet, and peaceful.

Summer passed, and so did the autumn; then winter came, and brought with it the cold and the snow... and the wolves.

Real wolves, born of wolves, not wolves crafted out of human flesh and sorcery. Wolves that came out from their dens in the deepest, darkest part of the forest where prey was scarce in the dead of winter. Wolves that, one day, found her home - and encountered her.

They'd come after the height of noon, just as the sun was beginning to wane. There were three of them, and their golden eyes were bright with hunger and excitement at the prospect of a feast of hen and goat.

But Jeanette, who had been watching the farmyard from the shelter of the barn, was not about to let them take even a single poult. Rising to her feet, she stepped into view - twice as big as the biggest of the three, tail and hackles raised and fangs bared in a snarl that carried across the yard. The wolves paused, ears down and heads low, their own teeth bared in uncertainty at this enormous beast that looked like a wolf and talked like a wolf and smelled like a wolf but also smelled disconcertingly like Man in a way that no mere dog could.

The leader of the trio broke the tense standoff by charging towards her, his tail flagging high as he opened snarling jaws with clear intent - and Jeanette met his charge head-on with a bellowing sound that was more of a roar than a bark.

He was big and strong, but he was also foolish to have charged ahead all alone; her jaws closed around his neck and clamped down with supernatural force. The lead wolf died with a pitiful yelp, and she promptly threw him aside to lie, limp, in the snow.

His companions were on her in the blink of an eye, dogging her flanks and snapping at her face. They were cleverer, never letting her get her fangs in them, darting in to bite before ducking away before she could retaliate. She knew she had to kill at least one of the two, and quickly, because even with her own great strength and skill she was only one, and they were two, and she only had so much blood to give.

It had only been a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity of dancing in the bloody snow before the door to the house crashed open and the man came rushing out. In his hand, he carried a great sword the likes of which she'd never seen, and over his shoulders he wore a thick bearskin cloak to ward off bites... and he was very nearly too late.

One of the interlopers had managed to get her jaws locked around Jeanette's throat. The latter's thick fur kept it from being a killing bite, but the former was doing her damnedest to inflict one, regardless. The other had torn open her shoulder and was now circling around them, looking for an opportunity to jump in and assist in the kill.

He died first, however, his head neatly severed with a single heavy blow from that shining sword.

The remaining wolf let go of Jeanette then, turning to face the man - and that was her last mistake. Before he could strike the wild bitch down, Jeanette sank her teeth into her hindquarters and reared up on her own hind legs, flinging her over her shoulder and away from him. She landed hard and struggled to her feet, giving herself a shake before lunging for Jeanette once more, letting out an almost human-sounding shriek of rage and pain.

Her teeth lacerated Jeanette's face, narrowly missing her right eye - and Jeanette's jaws closed around her skull. Still shrieking, the wild wolf flailed at her face and neck and chest as she shook her violently.

There was an audible crunch as the interloper's neck broke, and she went limp in Jeanette's jaws.

Panting hard, she let the dead wolf fall to the ground, and turned her head to look at the man.

Her vision swam, and she staggered, briefly dropping to her elbows as she felt the toll of the fight weighing on her... then reality itself seemed to warp, panic burst in her chest, and an all-too-human sound escaped her...

-----

Jorge didn't know what to think.

Was he dreaming? Was this real?

One moment, his beloved Little One had been standing before him, bloodied but triumphant after killing two of the wolves that had attempted to raid his farm - and the next, she was gone, and in her place was a girl.

A human girl.

Or, at least, one that looked human.

His sword fell to the ground at his feet as he stared at the sight before him. She couldn't have possibly been older than sixteen, dressed in a wolf-skin tunic and bleeding from numerous open wounds. Short-cropped, mouse-brown hair framed her pale, sharp-featured face, and those keen blue eyes...

"What... are you..." he managed to choke out.

She didn't answer, only gasped out a ragged sob as tears welled up to roll down her cheeks - before lurching to her feet and bolting away, towards the forest. Jorge didn't waste time thinking it over, he simply snatched up his sword and ran after her. She was faster by far, but she was also bleeding, and he didn't have to outrun her to follow the trail she left behind in her blind flight.

Finding her was inevitable.

She'd managed to get a fair distance into the forest, and the sun was drawing near to the horizon by the time he caught up, spotting her collapsed at the brim of a spring that bubbled up from between the twisted roots of a towering oak. Her bright red blood stained the moss and snow, and formed a crimson cloud in the water where her arm lay. Her shoulders trembled from what he first thought must have been the cold, but he quickly realized that, no, she was weeping.

He could have killed her then and there - in his youth, he would have. But time and experience stayed his hand.

"Little One." His voice was quiet, but firm... and he felt a twinge in his heart at the way she cringed in on herself.

"...'m sorry..." the girl rasped out between sobs, not looking up to meet his gaze; "I'm so sorry..."

"What are you?" He repeated, struggling to keep his voice even. "Answer me."

"I am - I am what you see... this, and the wolf..." Her own voice wavered and cracked. "I am sorry..."

Every apology twisted a thorn in his chest.

And yet, he couldn't bring himself to hate the girl. She seemed so young, and even as a wolf she'd been so sweet... and hadn't she just killed two wolves to protect him and his home? Even at great cost to herself?

"...why did you lie to me?" Jorge finally asked, as his initial anger subsided. There was no malice to his words, he only wanted to know why...

She drew back from him, dragging herself across the mossy ground to huddle against the base of the tree, as if it would protect her from his wrath.

"Because - because I was afraid," she finally whispered, her eyes fixed on the surface of the pool beside her; "....because you - you were so kind to me, even after I tried to steal from you... No one has ever been so kind to me, and I feared that - that if I showed you the truth - you would be afraid of me, or worse..."

She seemed to shrink in on herself, sobbing softly.

"Kill me... or leave me... it doesn't matter. I - I just... I am sorry..."

Once more, Jorge's sword fell to the ground. This time, though, he didn't bend down to retrieve it before approaching the girl. Instead, he unfastened the heavy bearskin he wore, and draped it across her trembling shoulders as he knelt down. Her slender fingers clutched the thick hide tightly, and surprise was evident on her face, but she still could not look him in the eye.

"What's your name, little one? Your real name?"

"...Jeanette..."

He reached out to smooth her tousled hair, and felt another twinge of pity in his heart when she flinched. No, he couldn't hurt her - she was just lost and frightened, the same as she'd been when he'd met her as a wolf. He wasn't sure he understood her, but that was fine, it would come with time.

"My name's Jorge," he replied softly. "It's all right, 'm not gonna hurt you, I promise..."

Slowly, carefully, he gathered her up, bundled snugly in the warm cloak. Jeanette was tense, at first, but quickly curled against his chest, still shaking, still sobbing quietly.

"I told you, you weren't lost anymore, 'n I meant it."

He left his sword where it had fallen as he started back towards the farm; he could always come back for it later, but right now he had something much more precious to worry about.

"C'mon, now... let's go home, 'n do things right this time..."

#Werewolf AU #Jeanette-B315 #Jorge-052 #sort of #lol

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defensematrix · 4 years

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red dead redemption 2 spoilers // rdr2 spoilers

okay...... so.. ow

i finished the main storyline two days ago and then finished the epilogue last night

i have been spoiled for a lot but it was NOTHING like how i expected tbh. i knew that “arthur dies from tuberculosis” and i was really dreading it bc like, right before the game came out on PC i went through a really shitty period where my 14 yr old dog slowly died from some kind of lung infection he couldnt fight off, and my mom didnt want to put him down so he ended up dying at home, and i dont want to get too graphic but basically what i was expecting was a similar thing happening to arthur where he eventually is just too sick to go on and has to lay down and die

which like, yeah technically that happens but a big factor is also the fact that while he was fighting a potentially fatal illness he was forced to do so fucking much for dutchs insane "plan” and then got beaten within an inch of his life by micah “living bottle of hot piss” bell

and i got “”spoiled”” when i was looking up treasure map stuff and saw the phrase “over by where you kill micah” so i was like ok cool, i will get to kill this bitch and all his taunting about arthur being ill wont matter bc hes gonna die first but HAHA OBVIOUSLY THATS NOT WHAT HAPPENED. i feel like the whole micah thing was less satisfying bc i had to play John Marstons Heterosexuality Simulator for several hours before actually dealing with him

but i will save the rest of that for a separate epilogue post i think, anyway

i started crying when i realized i had just said goodbye to charles, and i started crying again when you send jack and tilly off, and then REALLY started crying when that music that plays when you say bye to sadie and abigail started playing. the fucking music throughout the whole ending + the credits is so heart wrenching and i think the opening notes to “thats the way it is” will make me sad for the rest of time

also the fucking. horse scene. i was on buell for that so it was extra painful but it just gets me that arthur was being screamed at to keep moving bc they were being chased and he had to stop everything to say thank you and make sure this creature wasnt alone when it went and aughuhjgkhfkgjh ITS MAKING ME CRY......

also i went through the entire game on high honor so i never realized that the deer transition scenes were reflective of that until i went to look up alternate endings, which in retrospect makes that last shot of the deer so fucking emotional for me like idk, the artists and animators did a really good job on it where the animal looks like its fucking proud of you?? like its glad you made it on its side or idk i might be overemotional and reading into things

i was kind of stressed out during the end bc im bad at brawling in general but i do like that arthur went down fighting. like that sort of gave him more agency i think and let him have some meaning in his death

i was gonna make one more point bc i have charthur brain worms but then i realized that should be another post. anyway im sad about arthur and i already want to start the game all over again

#pet death mention #which is a weird tag to put on this but it is relevant #long post #rdr2 spoilers #red dead redemption 2 spoilers

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jongdality · 5 years

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me thinkin' about how i've grown up with exo and watched as they lived and learned and developed as professionals and humans, overcoming the struggles of a poor debut concept and scandal after scandal with their tenacity and love for each other

Then thinkin' about how Kyungsoo, a somewhat aloof, awkward and weird boy who decided to be bold and try out for SM after old people at karaoke competitions told him to and he made 8 brothers for life who love him dearly and support him and his antics and his acting career and call him cute no matter how much he says he isn't good at anything and that he's boring and Manly and how he has starred in a full-ass movie and is partially credited as breaking the "idol-actor" stereotype and writes love songs with chanyeol on the DL that chanyeol reveals on his lives and wrote the lyrics to a lovely, comforting song for us before leaving to join the military so he can become an even bigger star in multiple films once he gets out

Then thinkin' about how bbh, an outgoing boy who flicked lights on and off to make his friends giggle, met a friend for life, kjd, on the very same day they both were to audition to get into a group that was about to debut, how he worked hard to break down barriers in the group and became the moodmaker, and how people thought he was bad at dancing because he hadn't had time to train but actually every solo dance he's been given he's slayed to the point that he became the CENTER FOR CBX, how he worked hard to learn piano in a very short amount of time to play The Answer for his EXO-Ls, how even after an early scandal in which is privacy was invaded he still looks at us with such love and protection and is NOW an amazing solo artist who texts the exo group chat saying he misses them so much

Then thinkin' about Suho. Kim frickin' Joonmyeon. The underdog of the entire group. Born rich, charismatic and well-educated, could have been ANYTHING but CHOSE to train for SEVEN YEARS due to his love of music. You guys. When Baek and another member got into trouble for cussing while playing video games sometime in 2012-2013 and a sasaeng threatened to reveal the voice clips of them cussing purportedly to apink members, joonmyeon texted her personally, so cold, so professional, "are you blackmailing us? If you release the clip you won't be forgiven" big fuckin dad energy, worked so hard on his singing and dancing yet still asks not to be given too many lines or placed center too often, gives up his seats for his members ALWAYS, accepted their first awards show win alone stoic and professional as the boys broke down in the back room after the news of kris leaving broke, now has multiple solo songs and acts and is literally set to be higher-level management at SM due to all his hard work, definitely puts out that goofy mom energy but is actually extremely intelligent, protective and the go-to guy for all the members and this para has no point i just think kim joonmyun deserves everything

Remembering that chanyeol has a famous sister and is a multitalented instrumentalist that didn't actually need to become an idol, but he did because he wanted "brothers", how he skyrocketed an entire foot from debut til now, how he's all teeth and ears and big anime eyes and legs and he's confident and happy after years of struggling w his weight and self-image, makin music and writing lyrics and modeling for tommy hilfiger and riding scooters in paris and despite the fact that he can't dance he tries, despite the fact that he didn't audition to be a rapper he became one of korea's best, how he turns into a little kid every time he's around any small animal and just tries to cuddle and feed it as he coos in his Low Man Voice, his tough raps but then his soft exo station song SSFW, and now exo-sc with his bestie and ACTING!!!

Thinkin' about Xiumin. Xiumin who came in as a vocalist and ended up being one of the best dancers in the group (even tho he hits the highest notes!!!). Xiumin who is the oldest and wisest but is still willing to throw that ass back to havana to make cbx laugh. Xiumin who is korea's pick, who kids and ahjummas alike fall for. Xiumin who is beautiful and quiet and humble and supports his brothers from the sidelines, who is so loving and caring, who released an adorable solo that matches him so well and is now winning fckn awards in military training for being so goddamn amazing. Xiumin who attends TVXQ concerts and supports all of his fellow celebrities. Mark's dad. Amazing man. Says he has no friends outside of exo but literally everyone loves him. Dedicated his formative years to the group even when he wasn't spotlighted like he deserves to be and-

Lay. That's it. That's the paragraph. He came in not speaking Korean and is now one of the top-grossing musicians in all of China. Breaking barriers. Learning languages in a matter of months. Solo albums out the wazoo that he composed. Coming back to wish Kyungsoo goodbye even though he hasn't been on a stage with them in years. Didn't leave, although I'm sure he was mistreated just as much as the members who did. All of exo loves him so fucking much.

Kai. Kai who could have been a professional ballet dancer, could have been a full-time model, debuts as the SCREAMO BOY in mama. Gets made fun of for his skin complexion. Is shy and embarrassed for the first 2 or 3 years of exo interviews, and is still pretty shy and introverted. But boy became the fucking IDOL'S IDOL. FANCAMS GOING VIRAL LEFT AND RIGHT. SUSTAINING INJURIES, CRYING WHEN HE MESSES UP AN EXTREMELY DIFFICULT DANCE ROUTINE TO "I SEE YOU". Is such a perfectionist to the point of pushing himself into constant injury, and besides that has had his personal life broadcasted all over the news MULTIPLE times even though he's so shy and withdrawn irl. People cry to meet him, now. Front and center of every exo dance. A dancing god and the reason half of NCT auditioned. I cannot emphasize how proud I am of Kai, who is only a few months older than sehun yet has had to grow up so fast as the face of the group. Solo during the olympics with plantar fasciitis. Model who stuns at every Gucci show in new and experimental designs.

Sehun. Oh fuckin' Sehun. Ran away from recruiters because his mom told him not to talk to strangers, and now he's modelling for every major fashion campaign, is on the cover of vogue, has his dream dog and certifiably has the biggest dick of all exo members. Became a main dancer through hard work and practice even though nobody ever talks about how hard osh works bc he's sort of overshadowed by kai. Insecure about his singing voice but makes crowds go wild every time he even croons out one beautiful, dulcet line. Babied by junmyeon, kissed and coddled by all the exo members, still has Big Baby Energy but is debuting in a group with his fellow chaotic neutral yeol and looking all sexy with his swooped back hair and his 0 follows on insta. Sings in We Young and raps his little heart out. His solo during concerts still shake my very uterus and im pretty sure he's gay. That's how powerful ohs is, and he can only go up from here.

And finally my baby boy kim jongdae. Chanyeol once said Jongdae is so nice that he comes off as stupid and that is absolutely positively true. Boy is the manifestation of the john mulaney quote "you could pour soup on my lap and id apologize to you". Is a ray of fucking sunshine whose only goal as he was singing in that video from high school was to "become a singer". It's his passion. It's the reason he LIVES. He prays to jesus before every concert but worships music. One of THE best vocalists in the game with the cleanest and most controlled voice, sings in the shower, sings in the car, sings while walking to pet some deer, sings because he loves it and now he's a soloist with his own album out and another in the works, and not only that, he dances his feet on fire in CBX and exo routines and remains steady to hit those high notes. Duets abound because everyone loves him. Will tell a bitch to back off when talking about his private life bc he's probably a husband with 6 happy, healthy children at home. Started out as the nervous boy chasing a dream on that fateful day with bbh and became the nation's pick, sings CONSTANTLY, yet is still so humble he opens up a yt channel just to cover other artists' songs. MCs for Baekhyun's solo and shows up to all his performances to monitor. Heart of gold. Smiles when he's hurting. Deserves this solo career and deserves the happiest life this world can provide him.

Words aren't enough to express how grateful I am for these men, how proud I am and how much I just want them to know that we know how hard they've worked to get as far as they have. Compare them to any other group, even other SM groups, and it's clear that their passion, drive, skill and professionalism is unrivaled. They are all born artists and musicians down to their core, and with that, they're all kind, sweet people who are who they are because they debuted as 18, 19, 20, etc year old men 7 years ago and have grown up together, suffered together, celebrated together and loved together. They've switched up sounds, concepts, gone experimental, have created some of the most beautiful ballads and harmonies music has ever seen, and they strive for nothing but the best. ALWAYS. They have never disappointed me, and they never fail to inspire me every time they show the fruits of all their labor (as well as multiple creative people and teams that come together to create EXO) onstage as one.

Exo we are one, saranghaja.

#im just in my feelings #exo #rant #mobile isnt letting me put photos where they need to be so this is the post

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katehuntington · 5 years

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How You & I Will Be - part one

Fandom: Supernatural Timeframe: mid-season 2 Main characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer (mentioned), Ellen Harvelle (mentioned) Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually) Series summary: When a hellhound case in the mountains goes sideways, Dean and Y/N find themselves trapped in a small cabin, miles from civilization. A serious injury forces the two hunters to come to terms with their true feelings for each other. Rescue is on its way, but will it be in time? Warnings part one: angst, pining, canon typical violence, horror and gore, anxiety attack, nightmares, swearing, description of blood and injury, possible character death. Some fluff, too. Word Count: 3636 words Author’s note: Part one of a five part mini-series, based on songs of Billy Joel. I’m warning you, this is an angst-fluff-angst sandwich and it’s meant to make you cry. Hoard tissues. @idreamofhazel and @littlegreenplasticsoldier, thank you so much for being awesome betas!

No wind, not even the slightest breeze. Evergreens stop whispering, night animals seem to have vanished in the deepest holes of the forest. The mountain has turned into the remains of a dead rock in a matter of seconds. No tree can grow, no life can live. Only pure evil lingers in these woods now. Dean has seen many things over the years, but this beats it all. Completely astounded by the phenomenon, he observes his surroundings, as the church bells in the valley begin to chime. He counts them to estimate the time.

Three… four… five…

Y/N draws his attention, backing out slowly and crunching the snow under her boots, as she nervously shines her flashlight around. “The deal should be off, right?” Dean assumes, hinting at the dead body in the snow, a few yards away. She looks over, but doesn’t reply to the question. “Is it me, or is it like 20 degrees colder?” The hunter looks around, his eyes darting to detect anything that moves, as he adjusts the backpack hanging from his shoulder. It was cold before, but now it feels like Hell froze over. Y/N has a point; something seems wrong. It doesn’t feel like this is over yet. Something dark is hanging over them. Black clouds, packing together before a storm.

Six… seven… eight...

This case started out with a bunch of crossroad deals in a quiet mountain village called Darlington. One of the unfortunate ones making deals was Jake Dinon. The desperate father bargained to save his son, who suffered from terminal leukemia ten years back. A noble deed, but nobility doesn’t get you anywhere in Hell. The hunters saved him from that fate, though, by negotiating with the demon that held his contract. Dean and Y/N trapped the thing, threatened to exorcise it if it didn’t break the pact, while Sam kept an eye on Jake and his family. Dean was reading the third verse of the ritual when the black-eyed monster finally cracked, but before it exited its already dead host, the demon muttered something in a language neither of them knew.

Nine… ten… eleven…

The belltower strikes midnight, then it’s quiet. A new day, a new beginning, but today might very well mean the opposite. Y/N has never felt so out in the open before, so unsafe, so… watched. All of a sudden, a howl echoes through the valley. Both freeze to the ground as they look at each other, eyes widened. “That ain’t no coyote,” Dean gulps.

Chills run up and down his spine as Dean watches the horrified expression on Y/N’s face. He has heard the stories, it’s the last thing you hear before being ripped to pieces. Dean lifts the shotgun, engages the barrel breech lever, then opens the break action and discards the empty casings. Without taking his eyes off the long shadows of the forest surrounding them, he digs two shells from his pocket, pushes them into the barrel and brings it back up. “Here.” His gaze meets hers again and Dean hands over the weapon, since her sawed off malfunctioned earlier. “No, Dean. C’mon, you’ll be unarmed,” she objects. “Doesn’t matter. I much rather be sure you’re locked and loaded. Just uh…” he glances into the woods again. “Do me a favor? If you do see something coming at me, shoot it?” She swallows down a lump in her throat. “Will do,” she promises. The howl repeats several times, seeming to come from all directions. The silence returns, but then Dean’s eyes grow wide as they land on a black form on top of a large boulder. A pair of red orbs stand out in the darkness of the woods. “Are you seeing this?” he whispers breathlessly. Y/N just stands there, frozen in fear with her gun pointed down. Oh, she sees it, alright. She stares into the hypnotizing eyes, flames burning in them. Holding her breath she tries to move, but can’t. Like a deer in headlights she is unable to bolt, unable to lift the gun and defend herself. The last time she felt so overcome was during her first hunt, but now all those years later, it happens again. Then the creature steps from the shade, and Dean can solemnly swear he has never seen anything animal-like so evil than what is standing before him right now. The beast is big, about the size of an Irish wolfhound. It looks like one too, but its dark fur is anything but soft and cuddly. The hair on its back stands straight up, like splinters of obsidian. Growling, it halts, blood dripping down from his razor sharp teeth. Dean calculates the risks of every move he could make. Shooting the damned dog will only piss it off. The one thing he does know is that they need to get the hell out of here. Without taking his eyes off the monster, he reaches for his companion. His fingers slip around her shaking arm, then he jerks her from her trance. “Run!” As if they are both being chased by the devil himself, the hunters flee down hill through the forest, trying to avoid crashing into trees and rocks. In the chaos, Dean lets go of her hand. He monitors Y/N constantly, though, not letting her out of sight as she appears and disappears between the evergreens several yards ahead. Then he makes a mistake; he looks over his shoulder, realizing that it isn’t just one hellhound that chases them, there are at least three. He rights himself and cusses. Shit, we are so fucked! Then Dean spots it, a small hunter’s cabin a bit further down the hill. Their safe house, their refuge. Dean leaps over a gap and continues running as fast as he possibly can, trying his very best not to trip, knowing that a single misstep will lead to certain death. Y/N reaches the small open space in front of the cabin first, when she’s tackled from the side by a hound that seems to come out of nowhere. Overpowered by her attacker, she slams into the the icy surface and drops her only weapon. Desperately she tries to fight it off, but she doesn’t stand a chance. “Y/N!!” Dean dashes towards her as fast as he can, but he’s not in time. The hellhound drags her towards the treeline and tears up her leg, pulling a scream of agony from the huntress. Dean’s heart stops then and there. “NO!!!” he shouts. “Dean!!” she cries out desperately as she hopelessly digs her fingers into the snow, failing miserably to catch grip as the creature pulls her into the darkness.

In a matter of a second he’s with her, leaps for the shotgun, uses the momentum of his dive to position the two barrel against his shoulder, rights himself and fires. A loud yelp escapes the hellhounds mouth and for a brief moment she seems free. Quickly Dean hooks his arms under hers and unceremoniously drags her onto the porch and inside the cabin. The door locks just in time, because the moment after he hastily pushes it in lock, an incredibly strong force almost barges in from the other side. “Son of a bitch...” he curses under his breath. He tries to find the bag of goofer dust in his pocket while using all his strength to stop the door from tumbling over. When he finds the powerful magic dust, he pours the grey particles on the doorstep. The moment the line connects both doorposts, the supernatural force is gone. Out of breath Dean holds the door with both hands flat on the wood, making sure the dogs won’t come through. Jesus fucking Christ, that was way, way too close.

He hears Y/N squirm behind him and when he turns around, she attempts to crawl to the opposite wall, leaving a smear of blood on the wooden floor. “Y/N? Fuck, sweetheart…” Worried sick, Dean hastens to her, helping her sit up against the back wall. Quickly he takes off his backpack, then his leather coat and his denim jacket. The last one he folds into a ball and applies on the wound with pressure in order to stop the bleeding. She barely feels the pain, though, adrenaline still pushing through her veins by her rapidly beating heart. While the creatures outside keep barking like mad, her focus darts from one window to the other, completely terrified. There’s no way they could come in, though. Every possible entry of this little cabin is sealed with the grey sand-like dust. The hunters made sure that if shit hit the fan, they would have a place to retreat. Dean needs to keep pressure on the wound, but he can tell she’s losing the battle with her anxiety. He takes the sleeves from the blood-stained jacket and uses them to tie the bundle of clothing to the wound. Still she doesn’t respond to his actions, having other issues to deal with. Breathing for one, because whatever she tries, she can’t get air. Quivering even worse than before, she silently begs Dean for help. As if her heard her, the hunter looks up from his work after tightening the knot. “Y/N? Easy, it’s okay now.” Tears stream down her face and mix with the blood spatter on her cheeks, her respiration in overdrive. Dean doesn’t need to be a psychologist to see that she’s having a panic attack. “Hey hey hey... Look at me. Calm down,” he reaches for her hand and squeezes it. “I’m right here. Take a breath.” Upset, she keeps searching for a possible way for the bastards to get in. When one of the hounds outside howls, she almost jumps out of her skin and can’t help but cry, anxiety overwhelming her. “It’s okay. It's alright,” her friend hushes her. “It’s going to be fine. They can’t get in. I won’t let them get in. You’re safe.” Frightened, she tries to find protection with her hunting partner, and he answers her by pulling her close. Softly and calmly he caresses her back as she crawls into his sheltering arms. Y/N’s not the only one trembling like a leaf, because Dean can’t stop shaking either. Horrific images from moments ago are stuck on repeat in his head, images of that monster dragging her away from him, blood poisoning the pure snow and the sound of absolute agony erupting from her throat. The hunter closes his eyes, trying to banish the haunting memories from his mind. Fuck, I almost lost her! He hugs her even tighter and sighs. She struggles to breathe, unable to fill her lungs with oxygen. Her entire body is quaking, yet her skin feels clammy. Dean never imagined that the powerful and fearless huntress could turn into this fragile thing she is right now, but he gets it. He completely gets it, because he’s scared shitless too. He keeps hushing her, running his fingers through her hair now, reminding her to calmly breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth, as he waits for the panic attack to pass. Slowly her respiration gets back to normal and over the course of several minutes, she’s able to gain control again. When she distances from him slightly, he dips his head to make eye contact, but she’s avoiding his gaze. “Don’t ever tell Sam this,” she requests, wiping her tears and runny nose with her sleeve. “He’ll laugh his ass off.” Dean smiles, comforted; she’s back. But as she slowly gets past her fear, the pain begins to set in. When she flinches and directs her attention down to her leg, Dean does the same. He folds the soaked fabric away, revealing the wound. The hound dug in deep; it’s bleeding badly. Dean takes off his leather belt and carefully lift her leg in order to slip the belt underneath. “Y’know, I normally don’t remove all my clothes on the first date,” he jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood. He earns a scoff and a glint of a grin. “Don’t think you’ve ever known a girl this long without taking your clothes off,” she responds, her voice still shaky. He corks up his eyebrow and shoots her a look. She’s not wrong, but Dean has his reasons for that. Not that he doesn’t find her attractive. No, it’s quite the opposite, actually. The tough hunter, who’s life motto is ‘no strings attached’, feels more for her than a man of his profession should. Whatever is going on between them, it’s growing stronger with every moment he spends with her. He tried to fight it, he tried to ignore it, he tried to push it down, but all his methods have been unsuccessful. Hell, he slept with numerous girls just to prove to himself that he still liked being the bachelor, that he still liked to pick up gorgeous women. But ever since he found her at the end of the bar, he lost those urges. All he wants is Y/N and it's scaring the shit out of him. He has to watch over Sam, that's his legacy. Another liability would only endanger them both. What if he ever had to choose? What if some demon would put it up to the test; Sam's life or Y/N's? Dean can't allow it to get that far. Either way, giving in to his feelings will either leave Y/N behind with a broken heart, or him. Staying apart would be less painful. At least, that's what he keeps telling himself.

Carefully, Dean pushes her torn jeans up her leg a little so that he can work. The hellhound ripped the flesh off the bone from below the knee all the way down to her ankle. By the looks of it a vein got damaged, because there’s blood everywhere. “Shit, Y/N… Nasty wound”, he makes a discontent noise with his mouth. She looks at him, fear in her eyes, a frown of concern puckered on her forehead, and Dean kicks myself mentally. Good job for scaring her, asshat, he scolds at himself. “Nothing I can’t fix, though. You’ll be alright,” he promises. She nods bravely, forcing a smile. Then she hints at the belt. “Pull it.” For a brief moment Dean looks her in the eye, then he tightens the belt just above the laceration. Although it hurts, she doesn’t make a sound. Pain, she can handle. Hell, now that’s a whole other department. Once Dean has secured the self-made tourniquette, she rests her head against the wooden wall behind her, still shaky. Silently, he gets ready to patch up his partner, grabbing the backpack and rummaging through it, until he finds what he’s looking for; a first aid kit. He grabs a bottle of disinfectant solution, which he tips over as he presses some cotton wool on the opening. “This is gonna hurt,” he warns, looking at her sympathetically. Carefully, he proceeds to clean the wound, using all the disinfectant that’s left in the small bottle. Y/N flinches under his touch, but stays strong. Clenching her jaw she breathes through the pain, her eyes closed as she thinks of some place nice. It takes about an half an hour before the laceration is properly closed up. Dean sit back on his heels. “Not bad, uh?” She nods approving. “Not bad at all.”

Staying still for over thirty minutes has brought out another enemy; the cold. Air forms clouds in front of their faces every time they exhale, as a thin layer of ice is starting to form on the inside of the windows. Now that her adrenaline isn’t pumping any more, shock, fatigue and hyperthermia are lurking around the corner. Her bottom lip is trembling, and she feels like sleeping. “Here.” Dean is left in nothing but a long sleeved henley and a pair of jeans, but he offers her his warm leather jacket either way. She leans forward a bit, allowing him to hang it over her shoulders, after which he wraps her in the several-sizes-too-big clothing. A small smile forms on Dean’s lips; she looks cute in it. “Thank you,” she says genuinely. He only nods, the kind that says ‘Don’t mention it.’ “We’ll get out of here,” he adds.

Reassuringly, Dean gives her arm a little squeeze, after which he pulls the satellite phone from the backpack. He doesn’t even bother to try his cell, he hasn’t had a signal since they left the valley. “Who are you calling?” Y/N asks, after Dean presses the digits and puts the large device to his ear. “The calvary.” Tensed, he waits for his little brother to pick up as the connection is put through. The call will show up as ‘No ID’ on Sam’s display, so Dean prays that he won’t decline it. C’mon Sam, pick up. “Hello?” Dean breathes out relieved, his shoulders relaxing the moment he hears Sam’s voice. “Hey, Sammy. It’s me.” “Dean,” he sighs, too, seemingly glad to hear he’s alive. “I tried calling you.” “Yeah, my phone is useless up here. Good thing we packed this astronaut thing,” he grins. “Everything okay?”

The grin disappears and Dean swallows down the lump in his throat. For a second he looks at Y/N, who sits up against the wall, one knee pulled to her chest and her arms around it. She looks like a shot deer, the poor thing. Wounded, in shock, frightened. The tension returns to Dean’s posture, his jaw in particular. “No. No, not at all,” he replies. “We’re in deep shit, Sam.” “Why? What’s going on? What happened?” Sam stammers, clearly worried. “We - uh… We trapped the demon before midnight and tore up Jake’s contract, but it casted some kinda spell before it left. I think it set his hounds loose,” Dean tells him. “But… Jake went home to his family. He never saw a hound.” “That’s because the dogs aren’t after him anymore,” he explains, turning towards the window, watching the gatekeepers of Hell circling around the cabin, their red eyes glowing in the night. “They are hunting us, Sam.”

Static cracks the line, only audible because the youngest Winchester fell silent. “Y-you can see them?” Sam asks staggered. “Yeah, we both can,” Dean confirms, watching the supernatural beings. “Ugly motherfuckers, I tell ya.” “How?” his brother tries to wrap his head around the situation. “How is that even possible? You’re not under contract!” “Yeah, well, those Goddamn pitbulls really don’t seem to give a rat’s ass about that,” Dean returns, gesturing at the demonic dogs in frustration, even though Sam can’t see it. “We barely made it to the safe house.” “Did you get hurt?”

Another silence. More static. Dean looks down at the floorboards, biting the inside of his lip. Just the plain fact that he has to admit to his sibling that Y/N was injured, is something he finds difficult. What makes it even worse is that he feels like this happened on his watch. He held on to her and he let her go. If this ends bad, that will be on him. No matter how hard, he needs to be honest with Sam. He has to know how urgent this is. “I didn’t… Y/N did.” Dean sighs as he rests his forearm above his head against the window, careful not to disturb the goofer dust. He keeps his voice down as he continues, not wanting to upset his partner in the same room. “She got hurt bad, Sam.” “How bad?” “It’s her leg. Damn mutt got her pretty good. I stitched her up for now, but she lost a lot of blood. Plus it’s freezing cold up here, we don’t have much food and... She needs medical care, Sam. Fast,” he elaborates, helplessness and desperation seeping through the words. “You have to find out a way to kill them. Call Bobby, call Ellen, I don’t care who you involve - ” “You can’t kill hellhounds, Dean.” “No, you don’t understand. You have to find a way to kill them”, Dean repeats slowly, making sure his younger brother understands.

The realization sinks in and Sam begins to grasp the magnitude of their problems. How unlikely it is that they will make it out of there alive. Sammy is smart, he’s read plenty of books on Hell and its creatures. He knows the stories too, what the hounds are capable of. How they leave their victims, or what’s left of them. “Hurry it up, will ya?”, Dean tells him, adding: “No pressure or anything.” Sam scoffs. “Yeah, right.” The oldest of the two smiles against the phone. Just hearing his little brother’s voice, knowing he will always have his back, comforts Dean. That reassurance fades, though, the moment he stares outside into the dark forest again. One of the hellhounds has spotted the hunter and stares him down. The thing doesn’t move, just observes, waiting for an opening, a chance to tear him apart. The hair on the back of Dean’s neck stands up, and it’s not from the cold. “You do know what happens when these things catch you. You don’t just die….” Sammy doesn’t have to fill in the blanks, Dean knows exactly what he’s trying to say and so he finishes his line. “You go to hell.” Sam sighs, accepting the huge burden on his shoulder. Y/N and Dean, they are trapped, with no way of getting out of there by themselves. It will come down to Sam to figure something out. There’s got to be a way. There always is. Dean believes that, and Sam believes it too. A short silence follows, after which the oldest sibling ends the conversation. “See you soon, Sammy.”

Thanks for reading the first part! Don’t hesitate to let me know what you think. This series is already finished, so I expect to update soon. Stay tuned for more!

Read part two here

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wolfhuntsmoon · 5 years

Text

New Stucky fic! Fic under the read more.

Title: Tell Me Like It Is Link: On AO3 Square Filled: N5 - Voice Kink - 1st square!! :) Ship: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Romance Hand Jobs Voice Kink Light Dom/sub Enthusiastic Consent Snark i love you but damn you're a bastard Humor Grumpy Bucky Barnes

Summary:

Turns out, romancing Captain America is pretty hard.

Word Count: 1882

Created for: @mcukinkbingo - thanks so much for all your hard work guys, this is so much fun!

Bucky glances around the room one last time. It’s as perfect as he can make it: curtains pulled, candles glowing, table laid with their best crockery and crisp, starched linen. All he can do is wait, but the heavy feeling in his gut has him prowl back and forth between the table and kitchen island, agonising over whether to alter the place settings, or to adjust the vase of roses he’s bought, or whether he should just sweep everything away into the bottom of their closet and pretend he hasn’t spent the past several hours panicking over tonight’s surprise.

The scrape of the key in the lock jolts him out of his panicked musings, and he lunges for the door. A sharp twist of the knob allows him to yank it open first, and Bucky gasps out a breathless “Hi!”

Steve’s face morphs from surprise to pleased amusement, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Hey Buck.” He steps in, crowding Bucky back against the wall, running his nose along the side of his neck. “You smell good. What’s the occasion?”

Buck flushes violently. He hadn’t thought Steve would pick up on the aftershave he’d dabbed on earlier, an afterthought at time. But now he can smell it too; clean and sharp with traces of amber darkening the scent. It smells like a guy who wants to impress, wants to luck out and end up in bed with his fella. Steve mouths over his throat, cutting off all Bucky’s higher brain functions as he does so, the bastard.

“Date night!” He grits out, voice closer to a squeak than he’d ever admit out loud. Goddamn Steve with his stupid face and warm chest, hands that feel as if they could cocoon Bucky. They make him want to forget all about the dinner in the oven.

“Date night?” Steve pulls back, confusion creasing his brow. “Since when do we have date night?” He raises a questioning eyebrow.

Bucky grins. “Can’t handle a little romance Rogers?”

“It’s been so long since I experienced any I’d forgotten you knew the meaning of the word.” Steve says, dry as the Sahara desert.

Bucky gasps, clutching at imaginary pearls and raising his other hand to his forehead as if he’s about to faint. “Steven Grant, are you accusing me of failing to woo you?”

Steve still looks stern as he speaks, but laughter draws out the broader vowels of his speech. “Is it an accusation if it’s already acknowledged to be true? Just yesterday you told me to knock off that, ‘lovey-dovey shit’!”

Bucky sniffs, spreading his arms wide, and looking through his lashes at Steve. He pouts a little, for maximum effect. “Because you were doing it wrong. Thought I’d give you a lesson.” He slides the tip of his tongue to the top of his lip, tracking the growing darkness in Steve’s eyes as they trace the route it takes.

Steve’s voice drops a whole octave when he next speaks, a bass rumble in Bucky’s ear as he leans forward to capture his mouth. “I’m listening, Buck.”

That rat bastard. Bucky can feel his well laid plans unravelling already, the liquid tones of Steve’s voice weakening Bucky’s knees. The kiss starts light, tongues tracing the bow of his lips, Steve’s nose nudging his, the hot press of his palms against Bucky’s back a brand sparking a fire in his gut. Steve deepens the kiss, and it’s all Bucky can do to stay upright. He moans, ragged. Heaving a breath in, he attacks Steve’s mouth, shoving forward to wind his arms around Steve’s neck, curling his fingers in the blond’s hair. All too soon he has to pull back and drag in badly needed air, clutching at Steve’s shoulders.

Steve’s by no means unaffected by all this, but the sly son of a bitch knows he’s got the upper hand in this game they’re playing, and knows how to keep it too. Which he proves when he drops his head to murmur against the shell of Bucky’s ear. “You look so good baby doll, in that sweater. All soft and homey. Like a little pet, waiting for me, hoping I’ll pay you some attention when I get back.” Steve’s breath is hot and damp on his skin, tickling the fine hairs there in the most maddening of ways which shouldn’t turn him on. But does anyway. Because it’s Steve.

Bucky isn’t interested in pretending to be a dog, or cat, or rabbit, or any of the other myriad animals he knows people on the internet include in their sex games. He really doesn’t give a shit.

Except when Steve’s voice, dark and sinful, breathes thoughts like smoke through him, wrapping around his mind, enveloping everything in a hazy cloud, obscuring everything Bucky thought he knew about his preferences. He whines, low in his throat, and sucks a mark on Steve’s exposed collarbone in revenge. It won’t last more than a few hours but it’s the best he can do under the circumstances, the circumstances being one Captain Smug Bastard steamrolling over every well laid plan Bucky’d concocted for tonight with the raw power of his lips and tongue and teeth.

“What’s that baby?” Steve’s voice grows rougher, a rumble rolling out the ends of his words so they slur together, and Bucky is going to have a heart attack if this doesn’t stop soon. He realises that he’s hard, and pressing against Steve, hips shifting in small, jerky motions, seeking relief.

“I-” He begins, gives up. Bites Steve’s shoulder again resentfully. No-one can shut Bucky Barnes up except this punk, and boy does the big lunk revel in it. Steve chuckles, and the viciousness of it has Bucky rolling his hips harder. “You!”

Steve grins against his skin, hands running down his back to fondle Bucky’s ass and tug him further into the cradle of Steve’s hips.

“Shh, I know baby, it’s okay.” Steve drops his tone to a velvet whisper, the rasp of the sibilants sending a shudder up Bucky’s spine and further removing his legs from his conscious control. “Let go and let me make you feel good. Romance, right?”

The brief flare of outrage Bucky feels deep, deep in his soul at this palooka’s commandeering of his carefully laid plans is eclipsed by the bass gravel now emanating from Steve’s chest. It’s like drowning in syrup, so sweet and sticky that Bucky can’t move but doesn’t want to anyway, content to stay and suffocate so long as he gets more. He chokes out Steve’s name, and some wretched cry that’s not even half a word because Steve shushes him again before he’s done. The soft susurrations tremor against his lips as Steve closes in for another kiss, gentler this time but no less devastating.

“You’re so good for me Buck, so pretty and thoughtful.” Steve breathes as he draws back, letting Bucky grind against him, eyes rolling back in pleasure from the electric contact between their groins.

“My perfect boy.” Bucky closes his eyes, Steve’s speech winding down his spine and twisting in his gut, uncompromising steel behind the honeyed waterfall of sound. He twitches his hips faster, chasing the gathering heat in his belly. “So beautiful, when you can’t hold it together anymore.” A hand unzips his jeans and tugs Bucky’s cock out into the cooler air, the shock of the temperature change making him whimper.

“That’s it, there we are, good boy-” Bucky cries out at the twin sensations of Steve’s hand around both their cocks - when had the sneaky son of a bitch managed that? - and the raw desire he can almost taste in Steve’s tone.

“Feels good, doesn’t it Buck? God, you’re so gorgeous for me like this, so good, letting me do what I want…” The careful control Steve maintains of his accent slips now, letting the Brooklyn tough peek through, and Bucky can’t get enough of it, clawing at Steve’s back as he continues stroking them both, heavy and insistent. “I swear on all the saints, Buck, you could turn the Devil himself, the way you look.” His voice is more strained now, new notes of urgency bleeding through as they writhe against each other, but every syllable winds Bucky higher. He’s beyond words now, keening high and thready in the back of his throat, bared for Steve to pepper kisses on between the streams of praise falling from his lips.

“Never want anyone to see this, never want anyone to know you’re so sweet for me, that you’re mine, my good boy, my perfect boy...” The cascade of words sweeps Bucky away, has him crashing over the edge with Steve in a blinding fit of pure pleasure, unspooling the coiled tension in his stomach that’s been lurking there since he started getting ready.

They pant together, inches away from the front door still. Steve kisses the damp patches on Bucky’s temples, grabs a tissue from the dresser and wipes them both down. Bucky groans, oversensitive and still turned on, wanting to flinch away but also pounce on Steve and tumble him to the floor for round two immediately. Only the thumb drawing featherlight circles on his cheek distracts him enough that Steve’s done, tucking him back into his jeans, expression proud and pleased and possessive all at once. It makes Bucky feel like a whole mine of diamonds, hidden and precious. No-one gets to see Steve like this except him. No-one gets to have this part of Steve, the part that looks at him like a wolf looks at a deer, starving and wanting.

Bucky draws a deep, shuddering breath; wills his legs to support his weight again. The chime of the oven timer interrupts his internal pep talk, and he wobbles from the wall to extract the casserole from the main shelf.

Steve stalks him, hunter after prey. “Smells good,” he offers.

The echo of earlier sends heat to Bucky’s cheeks. “It’s as close to your ma’s recipe as I could get,” he mutters.

Steve’s inhale is audible behind him. Hands snake around his waist and a ridiculously square jaw comes to rest on his metal shoulder. “Thank you baby,” he says, slow and serious, “you’re so good to me. So thoughtful.”

Bucky sighs, lets himself be turned to face Steve, accepts the sweet kiss the blond presses to his lips. “My good boy.” The weariness and care Steve tries to hide is in full view now, weighing down his words, but the warmth of his delivery has happiness fizzing in Bucky’s chest. Steve’s let go for once and for all now, no hiding, just as Bucky wanted.

“Come on Stevie. Pull up a chair and take a load off.” Bucky says, deftly serving them both the stew in big bowls, thick slices of wholemeal loaf perched on the side. It only take a moment for them to be seated, the pristine white of the tablecloth a perfect backdrop for the vibrant colour of the meal. Steve hums in delight with the first mouthful, and Bucky feels utter contentment then, sinking deep into the marrow of his bones.

Steven. G. Rogers might be a sly, scheming, silver tongued bastard, but he’s Bucky’s bastard.

And Bucky wouldn’t change a single damn thing about him.

#mcu kink bingo #heed the rating #here be sex and SHENANIGANS #although bucky would like to steve to just SHUT UP and let the romanance FLOW ROGERS #my fic #captain america #steven goddamn rogers #and the one and only bucky fucking barnes #stupid stoic supersoldiers

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sunshinexlollipops · 5 years

Note

this is going to sound weird but could u write a parody version of "we didn't start the fire" except could you write it as a rdr2 synopsis? its something i didn't know i needed until i thought about it

anon, you asked, so I answered.

it’s way longer than the actual song but oh well.

———–

Beginning in chapter one,

Colter’s where our problems have begun.

Fucking scared and cold as shit,

Blackwater fucked us didn’t it?

Dutch is still arrogant,

promising group betterment,

even though people died,

and some have been captured alive.

Pearson cries that we have no food,

Arthur captured this O’Driscoll dude,

Found out about Colm’s train,

Hit it and stole every god damn thing.

We didn’t have a plan!

And we never did,

And it’s obvious!

Chased east by the Pinkertons,

Further from the west,

Our decisions aren’t the best!

Hey now we’re in chapter two,

at a place called Horseshoe,

Down the road from Valentine,

everything is gonna be fine.

Got in brawls and stole a bit,

Stole even more of Cornwall’s shit and took Jack to fish,

Arthur sold the walker for the Morgan,

When Hosea asked to hunt again.

Robbed another fucking train,

Guess under whose fucking name?

Beat debtors and a man named Downes,

Cornwall ambushed and attacked us while in town.

We didn’t have a plan!

And because of Dutch,

we’re pretty fucked!

We’re on the run again!

Still going the wrong way!

But whatever it’s okay!

Lookie here it’s chapter 3,

Clemens Point by Iron Lake you see.

Lemoyne is just full of shit,

So guess we feel at home in it.

Braithwaite and the Grays,

got supposed gold and moonshine for days.

Arthur was made a deputy,

and delivers Beau’s letters to Penelope.

Sadie is a fucking god,

Oh my god we got a fucking dog,

Burn the fields and steel some steeds,

Both sides now know of our misdeeds.

Kidnapped by Colm and ambushed in another town,

The Grays shot Arthur’s little brother down,

Micah is an even bigger fucking dick,

And Milton paid us a visit!

Jesus fucking christ,

When will this end?

We’re moving again!

Dutch what the fuck?

You said we’d lay low,

but yet here we go!

Oh my god we’re in chapter 4,

Shady Belle been here before.

Went to Bronte to get Jack,

and didn’t even bring spaghetti back.

Went to the mayor’s and saw Bronte again,

Got told to die in Italian,

Got a lead on trolleys,

Dutch is stupidly pleased.

Kieran’s missing where has he gone?

Got Tilly before she was gone for long,

Oh okay that’s where he went,

O’Driscolls sent him ahead.

Turns out the trolley was bust,

Dutch ‘bout bust a nut,

Like his stupid fucking head,

he now wants Bronte dead.

Snuck in the swamps at night,

Bronte begged for his stupid life,

Dutch went and drowned that bitch,

Arthur thinks it was inappropriate.

Now it’s time to get our score,

as Dutch says “just one more,”

Burst through the bank’s door,

Shouldn’t be a problem we’ve done this before.

Ohmygod we were wrong!

The Pinkertons knew we were coming all along!

They killed two and captured John,

now we’re on a boat and to Cuba we have gone.

Just Kidding there’s a storm,

On an island and in the middle of a war,

Arthur has started to get sick here in chapter five,

I’m the maddest bitch alive.

Rescue poor Javier,

Please help us get out of here,

back on a boat and to the states,

I just wanna forget this place.

CAN SOMEONE HELP OUR BOY?

HE’S NOT DOING WELL,

AND I’M CONCERNED AS HELL.

DUTCH THIS IS YOUR BOY,

AND I SUPER SCARED,

BECAUSE I THOUGHT YOU CARED.

Fucking Beaver Hollow shit god dammit,

now we’re in chapter six,

passed out after a coughing fit,

turns out Downes gave Arthur tuberculosis.

Man this all feels fucking great,

the gang is even shittier as of late,

all these fights and people leave,

think I know where this is heading.

At least we got back John,

but the happiness doesn’t live for long,

the gang begins to fall apart and split,

and Micah is at the core of it.

Most of them want to leave Abigail,

that shit doesn’t go over well.

Sadie and Arthur go to rescue her,

Dutch and the others don’t concur.

Manages to save who he can,

Arthur tells John to become a man.

Gave him his hat and told him to run,

He’s going to settle this on the mountain.

Breathing rough and facing east,

We watch Arthur’s body admit defeat,

deer, coyote, or a wolf,

it’s the end for our cowpoke.

OHMYGOD IT HURTS.

WHY THE FUCK,

DID I PICK THIS GAME UP.

WOW THANKS ROCKSTAR,

I AM A PUDDLE OF TEARS,

AND WILL BE FOR YEARS.

Flash forward some time,

it’s the epilogue and John is doing alright.

But the family has separated

until John can get situated.

Took a loan and bought some land,

ran into Charles and Uncle by happenstance,

Got drunk and built a home,

Abigail and Jack return once they know.

Holy shit it’s Sadie our lord,

and she gets the boys on board,

To go hunt Micah and Dutch,

to finish shit from where it ended up.

Found these fuckers hiding away,

Micah is even worse nowadays,

John ain’t fuckin’ around,

But Dutch is the one to put him down.

Sadie sadly got shot,

but die she did not,

John and Abigail marry,

and that’s the ending to our story.

DON’T THINK ABOUT RED DEAD 1,

OR LISTEN TO DEAD MAN’S GUN.

I’LL JUST RESTART THE GAME,

I’M IN DENIAL BUT IT’S BETTER THIS WAY.

—–

this was a journey. thank you for taking it with me. :0

#rdr2 spoilers

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twdmusicboxmystery · 5 years

Text

9x09: Analysis

Okay, let's talk about this episode.

***As always, spoilers abound for episode 9x09. Don’t read until you’ve watched. You’ve been warned!***

The beginning was definitely freaky. As I suspected, from watching the trailer, are heroes got out of the graveyard fairly quickly, but watching the whisperer unlock the gate was super spooky.

Negan’s story:

Negan’s story was by far the most important where TD is concerned. Really fascinating symbolism. Let’s dive right in.

We see him eating a tomato. That's important because tomatoes were an important part of Carl’s story line and specifically Carl’s vision for the future. I think showing Negan eat the tomato shows that this is the beginning of him moving toward the Negan we saw in Carl's vision. In other words, a good Negan who will cooperate with TF.

He goes into Judith’s room. I noticed a little purple fan. I won’t say much about this now but I will tell you that @frangipanilove is working on a purple theory that I will share when she gets done.

Negan also takes a compass. The compass is super-important guys. As we’ve noted already, Henry is wearing a compass rose on his T-shirt and the compass is linked to the North Star because both of them help you find your way. Remember that, in Alone, which was a huge Beth episode, Maggie had a broken compass. So, we can definitely link the compass to Beth.

When he offers to give it back to Judith, she says, "Keep it. It will help you find your way." Not only is that very symbolic, but I think it hearkens back to when Carl pointed at the North Star and when Judith was a baby in S6 and said it would help you find your way home.

Well, putting Beth aside, I think that this does very much have a lot to do with Negan and him finding his way back to goodness and redemption, and TF. But we also can't ignore the parallels to Beth and the ways in which we can connect this to her arc. So overall, and still feeling like she may come through meetings arc because of all the symbols around him that have to do with her.

Judith, of course, catches Negan before he goes over the wall but ends up letting him go. One thing that really caught my attention was that Negan said he had if he stayed in Alexandria all he has is, "four walls and a bedpan." That's super important because it's a form of the title of 5x03, which was Four Walls and a Roof.

We’re not sure exactly what this means or how to tie it to Beth, but we have a few ideas. This form for four walls and a roof was a significant episode for a few reasons. There's a lot of bloodshed going on in that episode, it was in 5a, which was the major part of Beth’s arc, and the red machete was involved.

In terms of what the line actually meant in the episode, Father Gabriel said, "this is God's house." Maggie answered, "No, it's just four walls and a roof." I’ve always taken that to mean, by extension, that this is not God's house. It's simply a place where they kill to survive. And if Beth is the Christ figure, that means they’re symbolically saying that Beth is not there. Which in the plot, she wasn't. She was never at Father Gabriel's church. During that time, she was at Grady.

Another important thing, as @wdway reminded me, in 9x05, which was Rick's hallucination and final episode, in the part where he hallucinated talking to Shane in the squad car, Shane referenced this episode too. He said Rick needed to be strong again like he was in the church with that red machete. At the time, we honed in on the red machete reference. But he was obviously referencing what happened in Four Walls and a Roof. So, this is twice now this season that they’ve referenced that episode. It must be important. Maybe it’s a red machete thing. Maybe something else. But we’ll keep an eye on it.

Later, he kills her walker while sitting in the bed of a truck and eating. When he sits down, some walkers wake up in the back of the truck. One of them was burnt and was very ashy. Naturally, I want to connect that to, "we ain’t ashes,” as well as other burnt walkers around Beth (Still and Always Accountable). While he's fighting with the walker, the walker pulls itself loose and loses its legs.

So we have an example of the lost shoe/foot theme. Italso reminds me a whole lot of 4x01 in the Big Spot where Bob looked at the lower legs of a walker. So more callbacks to 4a. Then, Negan dropped his bag of food, fighting the walker and I noticed that she was an apple lying on the ground.

Let's just remember that especially an apple rolling on the ground is indicative of the Snow White/apple theory.

We saw the lost shoe/foot theme in Inmates with Beth, not too long before she went missing. We also saw it with Rick in 7x12, not long before he went missing and was presumed dead.

So seeing it here either means that Negan is going to go missing and be presumed dead, or else that Beth is close. (And I’m really not feeling like Negan is going to go missing.)

So let’s discuss what they’re doing with Negan here. There were a lot of signs in the background that suggest becoming the man you’re meant to be. So again, we’re seeing him move toward a different kind of Negan than we saw in the past.

Most of us in my group also noticed that when he was puking, he was in the clearing Abe and Glenn died in. Nicotero confirmed that on TTD, saying that, because he was kneeling where his victims knelt, that’s giving him a new, humble perspective, which may play into his change of heart.

Then something interesting happens. We start to see a TON of Beth symbolism around him.

So then he goes into a store to look for new shirt. This part was huge, guys. I literally had to pause live TV because I couldn't write fast enough to write all the symbolism down.

First, he tries to turn a flashlight, but it doesn't work. In other words, the batteries are dead. So we have the Battery Theory. He finds a crank flashlight and manages to crank that to create some light. On the floor is a green can of food which I'm pretty sure is okra. Remember, okra figured heavily in Alone. We saw on the table at Beth and Daryl’s candlelight dinner. We also see the flashlight flare I've noted before.

So that's still in play and we definitely saw that with Beth. I think that's important because, along with the bats, it’s another way to connect Beth to Negan.

Then he sees the corpse of a guy who obviously shot himself in the head. Guys, look at this comparison. This guy looks exactly like the guy Daryl saw him 5x10 with the dead deer.

You can't tell me that's a coincidence. There are callbacks to the themes, Beth episodes, including Alone, things that link Negan and Beth, and then finally a callback to 5x10. You know, where the music box woke up?

I’m also thinking the mannequins around the corpse are important. There’s one female mannequin, which could represent the mannequins and “Rich Bitch” corpse we saw in the golf club, or could just represent Beth herself, simply because it’s a female, not a male. The other two mannequins there are both little kid mannequins (Child/Baby symbolism around Beth.)

Then @thegloriouscollectorlady said something brilliant. She said, “this is Negan’s Still.” She’s SO right. Think about it. He’s wandering on the outside like Beth and Daryl were in Still. He ruined his shirt and walked into a dark place and finds a new shirt. There’s the flashlight flare, which happened in the golf club as well. There was okra. And dogs.

Dogs! Like Sirius/dogstar symbolism. There's three of them and they are wild and chase him. Not only is this a Siris reference, but it's a call back to Them and the feral dogs that team family saw there. In this case, Negan hides from them.

So the clothing store represented the golf club. The lighting was the same, racks of merchandise and clothing, even mannequins.

So, even as I thought all of this, I could just visualize the Asks in my inbox and the concerns people would have. “Couldn’t all the Beth symbolism around Negan simply suggest that he has a similar arc? That he’s trying to figure out who he is, become the strong person he’s meant to be, and possibly disappear like her?”

Well, let me first say that I wasn’t worried about that one way or the other. While I get the worry in that, it also doesn’t explain the million other symbols around Beth that suggest her return. It doesn’t explain the dialogue, the blue herons, the Christian/resurrection symbolism, the 8:00 clocks, etc.

But the interesting symbolism around Negan didn’t stop there. We noted a bunch more things that were callbacks to Beth and Daryl and S4, but after a while, we realized they weren’t Negan/Beth parallels. They were Negan/Daryl parallels. So Negan goes to the Sanctuary and says, “Home sweet home,” which Daryl also said at the moonshine shack in Still.

Then Negan breaks through a wall of the Sanctuary and finds a motorcycle (obvious Daryl symbolism) and cans of dog food.

So callback to 7x03, The Cell, and also the handcuffs and dog food Daryl found in S8.

And of course later on Negan was riding a motorcycle, just like Daryl, and when Judith shot at him and he wiped out on the bike, he did it exactly like we always see Daryl wreck when he does.

So basically, Negan was symbolically rehashing BOTH Beth and Daryl’s arcs from S4 to S8. So at that point, I don’t think it can simply be a matter of him following a similar path. Something else is going on here.

At the Sanctuary, Negan tries to force the Sanctuary to feel like home. He even puts together a makeshift living room, but he’s obviously not feeling it. He finds a walker he knew before named Big Richie. At first, he doesn’t kill him. Then he looks at Judith’s compass and does.

I think maybe he didn’t kill him because he promised Judith he wouldn’t.

Reminds me of Daryl almost covering Lenny with the white tarp because of what Beth taught him, but then not doing it; just another parallel to S4 and Daryl symbolism where he’s learning from what the female sheriff taught him. In fact, you could argue this is a lot like S4 that way too. Negan and Judith were separated just like Beth and Daryl. Granted, in Negan’s case, the separation was his choice. Daryl realized the Claimers were bad people and he didn’t want to stay with them, just as Negan realized he didn’t want to stay in the Sanctuary anymore. Then Negan and Judith--the female sheriff--are reunited. So this could be another way to point to Beth and Daryl reuniting. Will she shoot at Daryl and knock him off his bike? Probably not. But it’s interesting. ;D.

Meanwhile, Negan realized the Sanctuary would never be home again, so he kills Ritchie and returns to Alexandria. Judith is his home now.

But again, we saw this with Beth and Daryl in S4. They tried to make an emotional home with each other, but more tangibly, they tried to make the funeral home a permanent home. Daryl wanted to stay there and make it work. But in the end, they couldn’t, and after they left, they (or Daryl at least) reunited with TF. Just like Negan in this episode.

So it’s hard to know where this is going for sure, but I feel certain it has something to do with Beth and Daryl.

@wdway also noticed diamond patterns on clothing and in background. Remember Beth is the queen of diamonds and we saw several instances of diamonds around her in S4.

In terms of me REALLY wanting to read into things as foreshadows?

1) In TTD, they said something interesting. They did a segment on the dogs they used that chased Negan around. In describing the scene, they said that, unbeknownst to Negan, these dogs had been secretly tracking him. It’s pretty impossible to understand that from what they showed us in the episode, which means they wanted us to know about it. So if dogs = Beth because of Sirius symbolism, I feel like at some point, Beth will be tracking Negan or pose a threat to him. Which kinda throws the dogs in 5x10 into a new light, doesn’t it?

2) They also explained that the reason Negan threw up is because of drinking the water. It was bad water and made him sick. Um… Beth = water. So I want to say that it shows Beth is going to end up being a major threat to Negan. Both of these symbols suggest that. Just thought I’d throw that out there.

One other thing? There were a LOT of 10s mentioned in this episode. That points at S10 for something. Maybe it’s Beth. Maybe it’s something in Negan’s arc. But Lydia mentions 10s too, which might be a Whisperer thing. So don’t know what it means, but thought I’d mention it.

I’d also like to point out that at the end of 9x08, we saw Negan walk into the Sanctuary and whistle. There was a time jump forward to show something that was really a hint of things to come. Then, this episode they went back and showed Negan leaving his cell, leaving Alexandria, and other things that happened on his way to the Sanctuary. So just another example of how they can skip over things and jump forward, but they always go back and show us what we missed. They have to do that with Beth eventually. (And with whatever gave Michonne and Daryl their X scars.)

Daryl and Michonne:

I really loved this interaction between Daryl and Michonne. I thought it was really sweet.

It was obvious that Daryl didn't really trust Magna and her people until Michonne assured him that she would vouch for them. Then he was cool. She said burying Jesus would mean a lot to his loved ones. Daryl then says, "I'm sorry, couldn't do that for you." Michonne: "I’m sorry I couldn't do it for both of us. Thank you, for looking for him.” Obviously, they’re talking about never finding Rick’s body. And there’s an emphasis on how important burial and closure are. Not only did Beth not get a funeral, but remember she emphasized to Daryl at the funeral home how important burials are. How important they were to her personally.

But then Michonne says something downright tantalizing. She says, “And for after." This is really interesting because Michonne is thanking Daryl for something that happened “after” Rick’s presumed death. Remember that right after the bridge exploded and Daryl started off to look for him, they did the time jump. We don't know what came “after.” So, what she's thanking him for must have something to do with whatever happened during the time jump and gave them their scars.

On TTD, Norman talked about this, and it kinda freaked me out. He says that Daryl and Michonne shared an experience that no one in the group except them knows about. And that it’s a very, very DARK secret. Wow. That’s super-ominous. I have NO idea what that means, and it’s a little frightening.

But more than that, it doesn’t explain some of the mysteries we saw in 9a. It doesn’t explain why the Hilltoppers were terrified of riders showing up and booked it inside the walls. It doesn’t explain why Maggie, Tara, Diane, and the rest are so pissed off at Michonne, and why she seems totally understanding about the fact that they are.

So I don’t know if that’s all part of the same thing or not. Maybe something happened with Michonne and, specifically because the Hilltoppers don’t know what happened to her and Daryl, they don’t understand her actions, and that’s why they’re mad. OR, maybe we’re talking about multiple events we know nothing about. I don’t know, but this is a serious interesting twist of events.

But I loved Daryl and Michonne’s little bonding moment on the road. I thought it was sweet. Kinda melted my heart.

I’m also excited because I think the After theme has everything to do with Carl/Beth entanglement and leading to Beth’s return. And this means whatever caused those scars is also in the mix somewhere.

Daryl and Henry:

Henry still has a compass rose on his shirt and is in the jail cell when Daryl returns.

After that, we had such a supremely sublime Beth moment. After letting Henry out for a short time, but saying he needs to do his time and stay in the prison cell another night, Henry asks if alcohol always makes you feel this bad. Daryl looks at him in a considering way and answers simply, "No." Guys, he HAS to be thinking of Beth when he says that. Remember, they made a point of saying that she was a happy drunk, she held her liquor well, and she actually liked the feeling. So, alcohol didn’t make her feel bad like it did Henry. That's one major difference between the two of them. My heart just absolutely melted when he said that because I knew he had to be thinking of Beth.

They also discussed figuring out who you are. Henry says he's just he feels bad about what happened (getting drunk) but is just trying to figure out who he is not new in this new place (Hilltop). That's actually a whole lot like Beth too. They never said it quite that heavy-handedly with Beth, Beth and Daryl on the road together were very much was very much them trying to figure out who they were in the work of the tragedy of the prison family and who they were together and in this new setting. So Daryl understands where Henry is coming from.

Lydia:

When they captured Lydia, I was struck by the image of her blond wig/scalp being left behind, along with her knife. The camera focused on that a minute and it just screamed Beth. Beth’s blond hair and Beth’s knife.

Lydia talks about how the walkers protected them (because they wear walker faces, they can walk around with the walker herds and be protected) and so they protect the walkers, too. So the Whisperers believe their relationship with the walkers is symbiotic. That’s actually a whole lot like the what the wolves believed.

Lydia also says, “we were always going to kill you. That's just what you do know. Kill people.” That tells us a lot about the Whisperers’ mentality. They believe killing people to survive is the obvious thing to do. Not what our heroes and TF believe. She also says that her mother is "A good person” and “just one woman out there alone." That combination has to make Daryl think of Beth, who spoke to him about good people and was also on her own at Grady. And, you know, there’s the blond angle.

Daryl is being verbally abusive to Lydia, Henry tells Daryl to stop. Much like many others such as Beth, Henry is acting as Daryl's moral compass, trying to tell him what the right thing to do. When Beth was Daryl's moral compass, he listened to her. He's really not listening to Henry at all.

He was smart because he did sort of a good cop/bad cop routine. He yelled at Lydia to intimidate her, probably knowing that Henry wouldn't like it, and that then maybe Lydia would bond with Henry and trust him. So when they started talking, he sat outside the window listening and heard everything. Daryl is not so dumb. ;D

Daryl walking in and telling Henry (Beth proxy) about Jesus’s death felt a lot like him telling Beth about Zack’s death in 4x01.

Luke and Alden:

Luke volunteers to go out with Alden to look for Michonne and Daryl’s group. Luke made the joke that he was "two hand Luke,” as well as saying, “Do you need a hand? I have two of them." I feel like it’s a foreshadow of someone (maybe Luke) losing a hand.

Before they leave, Enid tells Alden to, "be safe out there." Definitely a foreboding foreshadowing. Because by the end, there captured by Alpha.

Luke and Alden talked a lot about music with an especial emphasis on singing. Beth anyone?

I couldn't help but notice that Alden has machete with a handle wrapped in white tape. I don’t think it's the red machete, but having the handle wrapped in exactly the same way the red machete’s was wrapped in mini series strikes me as important.

We also found out that Rosita is pregnant with Siddique’s baby. Euguen found out when finally professed his love to Rosita. Poor guy. But he also made an hour glass reference. Not only is that a time reference, but remember that in 5b, Carl played with an hour glass. I believe it’s yet another way to show the arc has turned over and Beth, who wasn’t in the show from 5b on, will reappear in this current arc.

Enid watching for Alden to come back reminded me of Maggie looking for Glenn to come back in 6a. Which I THINK shows that Alden will live. In that case, it was Glenn’s death fake out and he did make it back to her alive. Of course he died eventually, so I could be wrong about that. On the flip side, Alden s also the song bird right now. He’s the only one on the show that sings. So maybe that will lead to his death? Guess we’ll have to wait and see.

I won’t go into this too much, but we saw the Us vs. Them theme, and also a lot of bikes. There were bikes in the background several times, the bike Negan found and rode, which admittedly might have ONLY been a Daryl reference. But every time I see bikes, especially with an emphasis on the tires, I think of a prominent one we saw in 6x02 when the wolves attacked. That might make sense since we know the Whisperers are about to arrive. Maybe it’s a symbol that a bad group is about to show up at the gates. But a lot of us also suspect ties between the Whisperers and the Wolves, and a lot of the symbolism we saw in this episode kinda backs that idea up. Just saying.

Okay, that’s all I have for today. I really loved this episode, though. SO much symbolism that makes me very excited for what’s to come.

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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riverdale-insert · 6 years

Text

Riverdale x reader

The reader moves to Riverdale the summer before her Sophomore year. He father is very controlling and prefers her brothers over her. They all come from a rich family and with a dark past.

Today some students from Southside High were being merged with Riverdale. You didn't really know much about the Southside except that FP is the leader of the Southside Serpents and Jughead's dad.

Jughead was the first friend that you made in this small town. He then introduced you to his friends. Archie Andrews, Veronica Lodge, and Betty Cooper. You never told your father about your friends because he wouldn't like them. He never liked anything that you did. Your father favored your brothers.

To hide the bruises your father had given you on your arms, you put on a light grey knitted sweater that had a white collar. A black skirt that ended mid-thigh, black flats, and a simple diamond necklace.

Once your families personal driver had dropped you off at school all eyes that were usually on you were focused on the school front gates, waiting for the Serpents to show up.

You strolled into school noticing a table with lots of papers on it and Veronica, Archie, and Kevin stood behind it. Decorations were strung across the hall including streamers in the school color. Veronica called you over to join them.

Adjusting your backpack you felt it brush against your bruise making you hiss in pain. "Hey, what's this for?" You tucked a piece of your long (h/c) behind your ear. Veronica looked up at you with a bright smile. "This is for the new students." You cocked your head to the side. "Everyone deserves a warm welcome when they come here to Riverdale." Now it was your turn to smile.

"That's very nice of you guys to do." Kevin nodded, "and we have their schedules right here to help them out some more." He added on. "You know (Y/n), you should stay and help us. The more the merrier." You smiled at Kevin's request. "I wish I could. Honestly I really do but-" Veronica rolled her eyes and cut you off, "all you ever care about is your grades. You never come and hand out with us. You're no fun." She pouted.

"You know how my parents are. They're very strict. I would do anything to hang out with you guys at Pop's. But my grades mean a lot to my parents. My father was upset with me because I got an A on my English test. I need to do bet-" the front doors of the school burst open. In walked a small group of Serpents. Leading them was none other than Jughead Jone's. Everyone kept on an emotionless face.

Quickly you put your backpack on all the way even though it hurt. Your eyes scanned the group of kids entering your school. They didn't look as bad everyone said they were. Some of the kids looked intimidating with their leather jackets. You rested a hand on Veronica's shoulder.

"We can talk some more later." She nodded her but wasn't really listening. She was too busy already welcoming them. You chuckled lightly and headed to your first period which was English. As you walked away Cheryl walked down the stairs with Reggie following closely and the River Vixens.

You were always the first one in class. Your teacher wasn't at her desk so you assumed she was out making copies or something. Slowly you walked to your seat which was placed in the middle of the class. You took out your binder that held all your papers for different classes. The clear pocket on the front of your binder held your drawing of a decaying skull and it had several missing teeth. Under the chin of the skull laid a withering sunflower. Everything was drawn with great detail and only a black pen.

"Did you draw that?" Your head snapped up. The new girl stood before you and standing behind her was a tall guy. She was a lot shorter than him. She had a beautiful darker skin and light pink and brown wavy hair resting on her shoulders. That's when you noticed they were both wearing a leather jacket. The guy had dark black short hair, he had one curl that hung loosely in front of his face. His brows were furrowed waiting for you to answer his friend.

You smiled awkwardly at them. "Uh, yeah. I did." She smiled at you and the other guys eyes darted around the room. "It's nice. Does it have a story behind it?" She tried to make conversation. You looked at her suprised. No one has ever asked you that. "Yeah. I feel like I'm slowly dying inside and everything around me." They both looked at you like deers in headlights.

Your laughter quickly filled the room leaving the two confused. "I'm kidding!" You slipped the paper out of the plastic cover and folded it neatly. You didn't need anyone else questioning you about the drawing. "You guys really need to lighten up." The drawing was safely tucked into your jacket pocket. "It's kind of hard to do that when you're in Bulldog territory." The guy spoke up. "Oh, he speaks-" you stood up and held your hand out for the girl. "I'm (Y/n) by the way." Hesitantly she shook it, "Toni Topaz and this big guy here is Sweet Pea." She smiled and gestured to Sweet Pea. You held your hand out for him to shake. He looked at your hand then tucked his hands into his pockets ignoring you. "I'm not here to make friends with stuck up Northsiders like you." You let your hand drop limply to your side.

"Just ignore Sweet's, he's always grumpy. Especially today." You shrugged him off then sat back down. "I get it. It's not easy being in the same room with people who you know hate you for hours." Toni opened her mouth to say something but the bell rang.

Students flooded the classroom leaving the two Serpents standing at the front. Your teacher walked in and smiled at the two students. She said something to them but you couldn't hear since they were further away. They moved to sit at a row behind you.

"As you guys could see we have two new students. I want you treat them all with respect. They deserve an education just as much as you do." She smoothed out her pencil skirt. "They sure as hell are not getting respect from me!" Reggie pounded his fist on his chest. "This is bulldog territory." He turned around to face the two and sent them glares.

Before your teacher could say anything you turned to Reggie who sat a few people over to your left. "Reggie, can you do us all a favor and stop talking? The day has just started and all your yip yapping gives me a headache." He now sent a glare at you. "Oh yeah? How about you shut up? You stuck up wanna be. You're new here too so I don't know why you're talking. If you're really that smart you should know when to stop talking." The whole class laughed at his statement making you flustered.

"At least my brain cells work. Your head is just running on dust-" you leaned in your chair to get closer to him, "tell me, did your brain ever work? Because it's almost like someone chased you through the forest of stupidity and you hit your head on every single tree on your way out." The whole class burst into laughter making Reggie furious.

"That's enough! Reggie, (Y/n). No more talking!!" She slammed her hands on her desk making everyone go quiet. The teacher started her lecture.

The class wasn't even quiet for a minute when Reggie started talking again. "Not only can (Y/n) not keep her legs closed but she can't keep her mouth closed either! I mean look at how short her skirt is and she's already talking with those Southsiders!" He threw his head back in laughter. That really made you mad. He knew nothing about you and was just saying false statements about you to make himself feel better.

Toni was about to tell him off but you stood up. "I'm really not the one who needs the inches. You need the inches more than I do, if you know what I mean. So stop talking like you're all high and mighty and get over yourself." Reggie pushed himself out of his seat.

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to? Bitch." His figure towered over you. The whole class started shouting but you blocked them out. "I don't know what-" your eyes looked him up and down, "I'm talking to but I'll be sure to let you know when I figure that out." You crossed your arms over your chest and scowled at him.

"That's enough!" Your teacher stood between you guys. "I am sick and tired of you guys always arguing! Grow up. What will your parents think of you if I tell them what you said, (Y/n)?" You glared at Reggie then shifted your gaze to your teacher. "I was only defending myself and my peers. He said awful things not only about me but my friends." You gave her your best puppy dog eyes. No one could withstand your puppy dog eyes. She sighed then looked over at Reggie. "Reggie, go to the office. Now." Reggie frowned, "and you (Y/n)-"she pointed right at you, "this is your final warning."

"That's not fair! She started it!" He pointed right at you, "I don't care who started it. Now go!" Reggie collected his things and walked out leaving you with a satisfied grin on your face.

Your teacher shook her head then walked back to the front.

You trudged into the student lounge. You were exhausted already especially from that argument with Reggie. God he made you so angry. Any little thing he did pissed you off. He was cocky and acted like he was better than everyone else, when in fact he was not. You could never understand him.

Betty and Archie were already sitting on the couches talking, waiting for everyone to join them. Their heads went up when they saw your tired form. "Ugh." You plopped onto their laps earning a chuckle from them. Your backpack fell to the floor with a loud thump. "You okay?" Archie asked and Betty started to play with your hair. "I'm tired." You groaned. "School is exhausting." Archie added, "What's up with her?" Veronica asked when she walked in with Kevin. You turned your head to face her. "In first period I got in a argument with Reggie. I can't stand that kid." You groaned in frustration.

"Don't let him get to you, (Y/n)." Veronica moved to sit on the couch so you sat up right. She set her purse down in between you. Just then Jughead walked through the door with his friends. A smile spread across his face. "Guys, I want you to meet my friends." He gestured to the people standing behind him. They all followed Jughead to the couches and took a seat with him. Kevin sat down across from them were you guys sat.

"This Toni-" she waved and leaned back into her seat. "Sweet Pea-" he pointed behind him where he stood. He introduced some more of his friends but your attention was on Kevin. "What's your name?" He asked the dude across from him. "Fogarty, but my friends call me Fangs. You?" Kevin smiled, "Kevin Keller." Fangs frowned. "Oh, you're the Sheriff's kid." Kevin sighed, "I'm not going to snitch."

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the Southside scum." Reggie waltzed into the room with some football players behind him. "What, you've come back for more?" You asked folding your arms across your chest. He laughed at you making you stand up. "You don't scare me, Princess." His friends snickered at your nickname. "I don't know what's wrong with you and your family but-" his eyes dragges up and down your body then he licked his lips, "with that body. I can make time for you." His friends laughed again.

In anger you pushed him back only to fire him up more. Instantly everyone was on edge and your friends stood up. "Why don't you touch me some more-" he leaned in closer to your face. His hot breathe panned across your face, "(Y/n)." A smile crept across his face. "You're like a diaper-" you leaned in a little, "You're self-absorbed and full of shit." His grimy hands reached out for you, "you little!"

Archie pulled you away from him and stood between you guys. "Stop it!" You tried pushing past Archie but he held your arm tighter. "I am so sick and tired of you, Reggie! Let go of me." Archie pushed you behind him and you felt someone else grab your other arm. "Awe, would you look at that. Little miss rich bitch is crazy too. No wonder your family hates you."

"Let me go right now, Archie!" Archie ignored you, "I suggest you leave right before something bad happens." Reggie rolled his eyes and slowly left the room. Archie pushed you to sit back down.

"When I get my hands on him-" you clenched your fist. "(Y/n), stop. You're not making this any better. I know he gets on your nerves but don't put more fuel in the fire. He already has enough. We're trying to get us Southsiders to fit in without anymore drama. They already hate us enough." Jughead placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "I know he's twisting your story. But please. Don't make this situation worse than it already is... okay?" You looked up at his piercing blue eyes. "Please? If not for me... for yourself. Don't let the anger control you."

"God..." you looked around to see everyone stare at you with shock. Your friends had never seen you lash out like that and you made a fool of yourself in front of the new students. Sweet pea's eyes bore right into your (e/c) eyes. You tore your gaze away and focused back on your trembling hands. "I'll do it. Only because you asked." Not wanting to deal with their stares anymore you stood up pushing away Jughead's hands gently. "Now if you'll excuse me." He stepped back allowing you to pick up your bag. Betty's hand lurched forward to grab yours. "Where are you going?" She asked. You slipped your backpack back on. "Don't know." Before you reached the door Kevin called your name. "But you haven't eaten yet."

"I'm not hungry. I've had enough drama for today. See ya."

#riverdale #riverdale x reader #betty cooper #jughead jones #archie andrews #veronica lodge #sweet pea #Fogarty #toni topaz #cheryl bombshell #Southside Serpents #Southside high #fp jones #alice cooper #hal cooper #fred andrews

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beep-beepbitches · 6 years

Text

bork - b.d.

Title Credit: Gabe the Dog (rip)

Request: Hi can I request an imagine for Bill x reader where the reader saves the loser’s using her guard dog on The Bowers gang?

Summary: (Y/N) was walking her dogs when she sees the Losers being chased by the Bowers gang. Her dogs attack Bowers, leaving her and the Losers to play with her dogs. Then fluffy shit :)

Warnings: dogs (bc if you don't like dogs, this imagine isn't for you), violence, (some) blood

Word Count: 1,010

Pairing: Bill x (fem) Reader

There was no doubt that (Y/N) was a dog person. Having a golden retriever, a German Shepard, and a Rottweiler, she loved them all so dearly. And whenever hell broke lose, she always came to her dogs.

It was a normal summer day in Derry, Maine when the small girl was walking her three giant dogs. The smell of wet grass painted the air and the hot summer heat baked the Earth. Her golden, Bud, started to pant out of exhaustion, making her and her three pooches to sit on a nearby bench in the park.

She fed the three of them water, while she observed the park. It was oddly quiet for a Saturday afternoon. Normally there would be children playing on the playground, people jogging or riding bikes, walking dogs, or even having a picnic - but not today. Not a life form was in site, which worried (Y/N) a little. She knew her dogs would protect her (they were trained guard dogs, after all) but she as worried that she couldn’t protect them. (Y/N) loves them with all her heart, and she would be so upset if something happened to them.

A branch snapped in the distance, causing (Y/N)’s head to snap around quickly, followed by her dogs.

A growl came from each of them and she pet their heads in comfort. “Hey, it’s okay guys. It was probably just a deer.”

But it wasn’t just a deer. Bursting from the trees was the entire losers club, quickly followed by the Bowers Gang.

Seeing them attack the Losers made (Y/N)’s stomach churn in anger. She wasn't close to the losers, but they were very nice to her; and seeing them in pain made (Y/N) even more angry.

In anger, (Y/N) shouted after them. “Hey, Bowers!”

Henry Bowers stopped dead in his tracks and turned around, almost causing him to have a whiplash. “What do you want, bitch?”

His friends laughed at his pun, causing (Y/N) to cringe. “Leave them alone.”

Henry and his gang laughed and walked closer to (Y/N). “Or what? Are you gonna make your dogs attack me?”

(Y/N) smirked. “You asked for it. Attack!”

The dogs didn't hesitate to attack the three assholes in front of her. Each dog pounced on top of the three boys - biting and barking. After blood was shed, (Y/N) commanded, “Stop!”

Her dogs walked over to her and sat right beside her, proud of their work. (Y/N) inched towards the Bowers Gang.

“Don’t ever hurt the Losers ever again, or you’ll have to deal with me and my dogs.” (Y/N) said through grit teeth. She kicked Henry in the gut, and commanded her dogs to follow. All three dogs growled at the three boys as they walked pass.

Bill stared at her in awe. He honestly couldn’t believe someone, especially a girl, stood up to Henry Bowers.

“Hey, are you guys okay?” (Y/N) asked in a sweet voice.

Bill stared at her. “Y-y-yeah. W-we’re fine. T-thanks.” His stutter was worse because he liked (Y/N) a lot. He always liked her, but now he was almost head-over-heels for her.

“No problem.” (Y/N) smiled. The group of losers looked behind her in fear because that’s where her guard dogs sat. “Don’t worry about them. They won't hurt you unless I tell them to.”

She sat on the ground and all her dogs tried to fit in her lap. “You can pet them, just be careful. Besides being vicious when told, they can be quite friendly and sweet.”

Hesitantly, Bill was the first to get down on his knees. Before he knew it, Alex, (Y/N)’s Rottweiler, came over to Bill. Alex sniffed Bill’s hand and licked it, meaning that he liked him. The Rottweiler came over and tried to sit in Bill’s lap, but was obviously too big.

“That was me when I tried to fuck your mom.” Richie laughed as he fixed his glasses.

“Shut up about my mom, Richie.” Eddie said in disgust.

Then, the rest of the gang eventually got down on the ground and started to pet Hamilton, (Y/N)’s German Shepherd and Bud, (Y/N)’s golden. They all were throwing sticks, while the dogs ran to catch them. They also cuddled and pet them, and eventually started to play frisbee.

Bill made his way over to (Y/N), and she turned around and notice him. “Hey, Bill.”

And that was it, he got lost in her beautiful (E/C) eyes, and was enchanted by her amazing smile. He was in denial that he liked her, and now her came to accept that he really liked her.

“Bill, are you okay?” She asked, waving her hand in front of his face.

This caused him to turn bright red, was he really staring at her for that long? “Y-yeah, I’m fine. W-w-we just wanted t-to say t-thanks for s-standing up f-for us.”

“Of course.” (Y/N) smiled. “That’s what friends do.”

“He’s so cute.” (Y/N) thought to herself.

Bill thought, “She’s so beautiful.”

“Yeah, welcome to the Loser’s Club, (Y/N)!” Richie screamed, throwing the frisbee to her. She caught it with one hand and then threw it to the dogs.

“L-l-listen.” Bill stared, gaining (Y/N)’s attention once again. “U-uh. W-w-w-w-w-”

“Yes, I would love to go out with you, Bill.” (Y/N) smiled.

Bill smiled too. “G-great. A-and you can bring y-your dogs too. A-after all, t-they did save o-our asses.”

(Y/N) laughed. “So, dog park at noon?”

“Can’t wait.” Bill grinned.

Standing on her toes, (Y/N) reached up and gave Bill a small peck on his cheek, causing the two of them to turn beat red.

“Damn, Bill. Get some!” Richie shouted at the two.

The entire Losers Club rolled their eyes. “Shut up, Richie!”

@firefistnoct hope you like it :)

#bill denbrough #bill denbrough x reader #it #it 2017 #it 2017 imagine

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herd-reject-arts · 6 years

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Day 19) Have you ever encountered still living animals when looking for remains?

Quite often, yes, but usually just birds and squirrels.

One time, though, some sort of canine crossed my path and freaked me the hell out. I was in the park with my doggo, back when I only had the one, looking for bones. I ended up finding a very damaged deer skull that day, before all this happened.

Anyway, she ran off to chase something, which I was cool with because you’re not supposed to go into this part of the park (it belongs to a church), but it’s like 50 acres of unused land so I’d go to check for dead things/let my dog run about unleashed.

Anyway!, she was out of sight for about five minutes, so I went searching for her to make sure she hadn’t gone back to the paths you were supposed to stay on. I come out of the woods and into this clearing and start shouting for her. I hear rustling in the brush, which I assumed was her, so I walk toward it.

And out pops I’m not sure what kind of canid about fifty yards away. It looked vaguely like a husky in color, but with more brown and considerably larger. Like, my dog’s a good 60 some pounds, and this thing made her look tiny. It was probably just a massive coyote, but I got down on the ground in a submissive position just in case it was aggressive. It walked back into the woods and I wait a sec before letting myself freak the fuck out.

Like, I was freaking out so bad I nearly forgot my poor dog. Flight almost won over fight, but that dog is my damn best friend. So I forced myself to calm down a bit and began calling for her again, this time promising treats.

I used to take a knife with me on these walks in case I needed to cut through vines to get to an animal, or cut the animal itself, and you’d better believe I pulled that bitch out of my backpack! And I go into the woods where this big ass dog thing had just receded.

I’m walking down a deer trail because visibility, and it runs across my fucking path like twenty feet ahead. And I still can’t find my dog. And I’m back to having a friggen panic attack.

I slowly back out of the woods, keeping super close attention to any sound. For realz, bird sounds we’re making me nearly piss myself. I finally get back to the clearing, which is shouting distance from the paths, and run like hell.

I get about halfway across when I hear thumping behind me. I turn around with my knife up, ready to stab a muthafucka, and there’s my dog, acting like nothing happened. I leashed her up, brought her to the path, and checked her over. Nothing, not a scratch. This dumb bitch was off chasing squirrels and shit and having a blast while I was shitting myself trying to avoid being eaten.

And then we left, and I didn’t go back for over a year. And when I did, my dog stayed right by me the whole time, even though I feel like she’d be useless in a fight because leaves blowing in the wind freak her out...

I’m stressed just typing this out! Like, I’ve had brain surgery and this shit was scarier. Fuck.

TLDR: some massive random dog-thing was in the woods at the same time I was, freaked me out, and caused me to avoid my favorite park for over a year.

#vulture culture #30 day challenge #i nearly got eat

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everymovie2020 · 5 years

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11:14 (2003)

Date watched: 4 January 2019

Yet another Patrick Swayze movie for the first week of January 2019. When I go hard, I go really fucking hard, okay?

I'm sure I must've seen this when it first came out, but I have little to no memory of it. I just think I definitely would've watched it, unless for some reason it wasn't released in Australia. I don't think it's great but it was certainly twisty, and definitely not the worst movie I watched last week.

Let me try to summarise what happens in this movie for you, with spoilers (but it came out 15 years ago and nobody has ever heard of it so I don't think anyone will care), and remember, all of these things happen at the same time in the movie:

(under the cut because this is long-winded)

Generic white dude in car, driving while drunk, talking on mobile phone:

He's driving under an overpass and a body is thrown over the side, which lands on his windshield. Instead of doing the sensible thing, and because he's fucking trashed, he decides to hide the body in his boot. A lady drives up and is like, "oh man did a deer jump out in front of you?" and he's like, "… yes," so she calls the police, and now he's like fuck.So the Clark Gregg turns up, realises the guy is drunk and sees the blood on the boot, and then he opens the boot and sees the dead body. Our "hero" then decides to make a run for it through the forest where he is finally apprehended by Clark Gregg.

Also in Clark Gregg's police car – Hilary Swank and Shawn Hatosy, both of whom make a run for it when Clark Gregg chases after the first guy. Were they caught again in the end? I can't remember.

Colin Hanks, Ben Foster, other random dude and a special appearance by a young Jason Segel:

So these fuckwits are driving around in a van, drunk, being general hooligans. Ben Foster needs to take a whiz so he hangs his dick out the window of the van and is peeing while they're driving and Colin Hanks is yelling at him, and what happens? They hit a pedestrian and kill her, and in the process, the window slides shut and amputates Ben Foster's penis. YES. THAT HAPPENS.

The other guy who isn't Ben Foster or Colin Hanks has to go back and search for the dick, where he finds the paramedics loading up the dead chick (hi, baby Jason Segel). He steals the dick from the back of the ambulance and runs away.

I think he gets away? I can't remember. There's no resolution to that storyline.

Patrick Swayze

Patrick is just a man going about his nightly business, taking his dog for a walk through a spooky wooded area and then a cemetery, as you do, when he stumbles upon his daughter's car keys and a dead body in a cemetery, said body having had its head crushed in by a statue. So he does what any reasonable person would do in that situation, wherein he naturally assumes his daughter murdered this guy, and drags the body through the cemetery, into the boot of his car, which he drives to a nearby bridge and promptly throws over the side.

You see where I'm going with this shit?

Shawn Hatosy, Hilary Swank and Rachel Leigh Cook

So Shawn Hatosy has gotten Rachel Leigh Cook knocked up. And guess who Rachel Leigh Cook's father is? It's Patrick Swayze.

RLC wants him to pay for an abortion so he decides to stage a robbery at the convenience store he works at with Hilary Swank (rocking AWFUL braces in this).

So because Hilary Swank isn't stupid, she doesn't want to go through with the plot to rob the store, but because she is also very stupid, she accidentally shoots one of the fridges with the gun he's brought in, forcing them to stage the robbery. To make it look like a robbery, he shoots her in the arm.

Then Shawn Hatosy makes a plan to meet up with RLC post-robbery, and as she's crossing the road, she's hit by the van driven by the three dickheads.

Clark Gregg, the embattled police officer in this shithole of a town

It's been a busy night for Clark Gregg.

First, a girl gets hit by a van, and there's a random severed dick on the road.

Then he has to arrest Shawn Hatosy, who is on the scene. Why? Because Shawn Hatosy staged the robbery with Hilary Swank, who is in the ambulance that comes to pick up RLC, and Shawn Hatosy shot Hilary Swank and stole the money from the store.

Then he gets a report that a dude hit a deer, so he goes to investigate that as well, and we know what happens there.

Oh, also? The lady at the start who called the cops about the deer? She was Patrick Swayze's wife, and RLC is their daughter.

Rachel Leigh Cook

Little Miss-Pregnant over here is shaking down Shawn Hatosy and the guy who dies in the cemetery for $1,000.00 to have an abortion (why does it cost so much?).

She fucks the guy in the cemetery and at the moment of climax, the gravestone they're fucking beneath crumbles, and the head of the angel atop it falls and crushes the guy's skull.

So instead of, I don't know, calling the cops, she leaves the body there and takes off to find Shawn Hatosy and to steal his bowling ball – why? I'm guessing to frame him but it's never made clear.

All the shit happens in the convenience store, she steals the bowling ball, she calls 911 on Shawn Hatosy and Hilary Swank to report the robbery (what a bitch), then she goes back to the cemetery where the body is missing – wtf, right?

So she makes a call to… drumroll please, the dude from the first scene in the movie, the one who was driving drunk. Turns out they were going to run away together.

Then she dies.

The end.

It was a fucking ride. I didn't really enjoy it, but it was a ride, and everyone was extraordinarily stupid – except Clark Gregg.

#11:14 #movies #movie review #2003 #patrick swayze #rachel leigh cook #shawn hatosy #hilary swank #colin hanks #ben foster #barbara hershey #jason segel #clark gregg #it's twisty and it's turny #but ultimately it's not great

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