#From carrying that big ass di-(gunshots)

[baerryjj]

HOLY FUCKING SHIT ITS 4/20

HERES MALENIA HITTING A BONG

[vikingstoner69]

Alucard (smut) form my old account not edited

They say that everyone has a mate, and once you find your mate nothing and no one can take you away from them. I was not a normal human being I was a feral muntin of the cat kind and with my power, I can change into a large cat or a small one it really depended on what I needed.

" (Y/N) I have a need for you to take the wild geese and go and track down the vampire who is draining a town full of people" I looked over at my boss who just so happens to be the one who was the master or monsters and I fit right in with that. I was a monster and I had no problem with that.

"Of course, my Master," I said bowing down to her before walking out of the door It was about 30 years since the blitz in London and they were still waiting for this Alucard guy to show up. I had come to Sir Integra just after that day having saved her life back then and I was the one who helped run things after. I did just about anything she needed me to and with the power I had I could go days without sleep and would be just fine.

"Let's go Pip grab the guys, we got a job to do," I said looking over at my best guy friend as he lit up a cancer stick. In the acatke, on the manner, Pip was wounded so badly and almost died only to bring himself back from death by drinking the blood and becoming a vampire.

"Oi (Y/N) where are we headed?" he said as the guys got into the jeeps

"We're going to cheddar to kill a vampire" I said grinning my fangs on full show Pip smiled back.

(Later)

I walked into the manner after writing up a report and headed down to my room I knew my master was asleep and would give it to her in the morning. I heard the sound of gunshots and ran as fast as my legs would carry me to my master's room where I came face to face with sears and her big ass gun. She kicked open the door flashing everyone when I heard her gasp.

"Master!" She yelled out before lowering her gun I, on the other hand, kept my tense stance.

"What the hell is going on? Master are you alright?" I asked coming to stand close to her as I walked more into the room the scent of this man made me purr out before I could stop myself making My master looked at me with a raised brow.

"Yes, I'm sure you would like to know who this is (Y/N) this is Alucard the one who we have all been waiting to return," she said while sitting on the bed I felt a pull towards this man and was hoping like hell he was not my mate.

"Well if there is no danger than I shall take my leave, good night master," I said not looking over Alucard and walked out of the room. I had no clue what was going to happen now but I had a feeling I was being followed and just as I opened my door Alucard was sitting in my chair.

"So you took my place while I was gone?" he asked with a bored tone I had to give it to him he sure was sexy.

"Somewhat, I'm not really human so I can do things other can't trust me though it's been really boring," I said thinking all of the times I went on hunts only to come up with someone who was not worth even my time to fight.

"Tell me how old are you?" I looked over at him finding that he looked like someone I had met before only I could not put my finger on where i had seen him before.

"Eh, about 300 years old give or take," I said sitting down on my bed he was nice to talk to even if he is prying into my life. Even though I know this I find myself unable to hold back when he asks me things. "If you have nothing else to say I'm gonna get some sleep," I said as I pulled the blankets back so I could get into bed I felt the air around me heat back up and knew that Alucard had left.

(One Month Later)

"You was reckless! If I didn't step in you would have been killed" Alucard growled form everything I knew about him the only one he truly cared about was our master and the police girl.

"Oh please, I can't be killed, trust me I would have been dead a long time ago," I said stripping off my top to show him I was healed I felt his cool body get closer to mine and felt him run his fingers down my back.

"Tell me when do you plan to stop fighting this and give in?" he growled out his face close to my neck inhaling my scent.

"I have no clue what you mean," I said turning around to face him and felt my knees go weak at the look on his face.

"You are my mate, my queen, my fourth bride," he said with each kiss to my lips before deepening the kiss and stealing my breath away. I was lost to his touch and the taste of him I knew what he was saying was true but I was still going to make him fight for it. I was not the type to lay down and give in, I was a fighter.

"Oh really? You think that? Hmm, how about you prove it then" I said holding him close to my body his cool hard body felt wonderful against my hotter body with what I am I ran a little hotter than normal.

"I plan on it" Before I knew it I was laying on my back naked with a very sexy powerful vampire laying on top of me kissing sucking on my neck. I could feel his fangs scrape my neck and turned my head a little more giving him more room to work with. I had a plan to fight him but I didn't say I would not enjoy what he was doing.

While Alucard was working on my neck I tightened the hold on his hips and flipping us over so I was on top and I leaned down to crash his mouth to mine our fangs clashing and our tastes mingled together making me moan. I could feel how hard he was and wanted to taste him badly so I started to kiss down his neck leaving little bites as I went until I was face to face with his manhood. He was the biggest I had ever seen and couldn't wait till he was inside of me.

"Who said you could be on top? I heard him growl out as I licked the tip tasting him I locked my eyes with his before taking him fully into my mouth and down my throat making myself gag on him. I felt him grab onto my hair and held me in place before thrusting up and fucking my mouth while he was doing that I started to rub on his balls making him lose his pace and thrust up into me a little harder.

"Fuck, You suck my cock so well, take all of me I plan to cum down you pretty little throat" Alucard growled out before fucking my throat how he wanted I loved how he was using me even though I was on top he was very much in control and I loved a man who knew what he wanted and could take control of me in the bedroom. I knew he was close and sucked extra hard on him making him jump over the edge and cumming down my throat. I slowly sat up keeping his cock in my mouth as long as I could before I let him go with a loud pop and licked my lips. Before I knew it I was back on my back and he was raging hard again.

Alucard kissed me biting my lip till I opened my mouth to him and our tongues dueled for dominance. He won in the end only because he cheated by playing with my clit. I was dripping wet and was close to begging him to fuck me. I don't even remember the last time I had been fucked good and hard.

"Your dripping already and I have barely even touched you, my queen," he said while speeding up his pace I was a moaning mess by the time I felt his long as fuck tongue plunge into my hot wet cunt fucking me. I arched up and grabbed a fist full of his hair and was pulling him closer to me my claws starching his scalp making him groan.

"Fuck! Please don't stop, make me cum on your tongue" I begged while I started to thrust into wet needy cunt on his warm tongue I heard him growl and throw my head back at the feeling, it sent me on my clit. I was so close to coming that when he pinched my clit it sent me over the edge Alucard was making a happy sucking sound as if I was the best thing he has ever tasted in his life.

"Are you ready for me?" Alucard said as he moved his body back up was he was nestled in between my legs I was more than ready for him. I wanted him to fuck me tell I could not move anymore.

"Fuck me, Make me your, Make me forget about anyone else but you" I moaned out while thrusting my hips up into his feeling his hard manhood rubbing on my clit.

"As you wish" was the last thing I heard before my world was crashing down when he plunged into my cunt fucking me right off the bat. Alucard didn't wait to let me adjust he fucked me like he was a man possessed. My nails were digging down into his back drawing blood making him growl out his fangs got longer. I could feel I was losing control of my animal side and flipped us over where I was on top of him. Alucard grabbing my hips and started to thrust upon me as I took control of the speed and rode him how I wanted. I was so fucking close to cumming that I had nothing else On my mind but finding my peak.

"Fuck, Yes, Fuck me just like that! You feel so good inside me" I moaned out I was flipped back onto my back with him on top of me the whole time we were fighting for who was going to be on top. Our fucking was more like a fuck and fight only this time no one would die.

"Who do you belong to" I heard him growl in my neck but I was too far gone to speak and was only able to moan for him. The feeling of his hand around my neck choking me brought me back to myself and I could understand what he had asked me.

"You! I belong to you!" with my words I felt him sink his fangs into my neck drinking my blood I had this uncontrollable urge to bite him as well and did just that. Marking him as my mate for the rest of his undead life. The feeling of him sucking my blood pushed me over the edge and I came screaming his name my nails going down his back drawing blood.

When I finally came back to myself I realized that he was no longer on top of me and that a blanket was over us both. I rolled over and laid my head on his chest where his heart should be beating only to find it wasn't. Alucard's cool body helped to cool me down after our mating.

"Well, That was fun," I said yawning my eyes were getting heavy and knew sleep was not far off

"Agreed" was the last thing I heard before I was pulled into the darkness of the dreamworld.

[ejlovespie]

You Give Me Strength

Fandom: Supernatural

Author: EJ (@ejlovespie)

Summary: A hunt gone wrong puts Dean and the reader in danger. When the reader gets severely injured, Dean is there to help her recover.  (angst & fluff)

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1860

Warnings: Angst/Cursing/Torture/Near Death Experience

Reader’s Request: Can I pleaaase request a dean x reader angst/fluff/near death one shot where the reader and dean gets captured by vampires or demons during a hunt gone wrong and the reader keeps talking back to them to piss them off so she can distract them from hurting dean which results in her getting beaten up in front of him and severely injured while he gets all protective and worried. 

A/N: This was my first reader’s request and I am stoked about it! Thank you Anon! This was so much fun to write so I hope you like it! Any feedback is greatly appreciated and any mistakes are mine. Thank you for reading! :)

As far as you could tell, you were in the basement of an abandoned building. The smell of mildew filled your nose and occasionally you would see something skitter across the grimy floor. Gross. About a yard away, there was a crack in the ceiling that was slowly dripping water into a little puddle. The drip drip sound was driving you crazy so you re-directed your attention to the room around you. The only light came from a few candles on a table where a knife and a bowl sat. You and Dean were both handcuffed to beams in the middle of the room, far enough a part where you couldn’t reach each other. You were also too far away from the table or anything else that you could grab to use as a weapon. You sighed. This was supposed to be a routine hunt; nothing that you and Dean couldn’t handle. Unfortunately, the demons you had been tracking had got the drop on you. One minute you were both walking down the street and the next, you felt a pinch on your neck and you had lost consciousness within minutes. 

 Dean still hadn’t woken from being drugged. You had called his name a few times, trying to wake him but he didn’t stir, just continued to breathe in and out in a steady rhythm. You sat there for what felt like hours before the sound of a door slamming behind you made you jump. You heard footsteps as someone walked into the room and you tried squinting into the dark to see. After a moment, a man walked over to Dean’s slumped form. You yelled at him when his foot came out and he kicked Dean’s leg. Ignoring you, he bent over and stuck a needle into Dean’s neck. You cursed and yelled again but were cut off when Dean suddenly startled awake. He sat up in a panic, his eyes wild and angry, and growled when he saw you. The man had walked over to the table in the center of the room and was picking up the knife. Shit. You could his eyes now; they were pitch black. Demon. You tugged at your handcuffs again, trying to figure out a way out of this situation. 

 The demon noticed you struggling and laughed as he walked over to Dean, who was glaring at him. His black eyes turned to you and he smiled before he took the knife and slowly started to dig it into Dean’s collarbone. You screamed as Dean groaned in pain and the demon laughed. In this situation, you had no way to help Dean except to distract the threat. You had to make him focus on you instead. You didn’t think before you started cursing and yelling at him, trying to goad him into walking away from Dean. 

 “Hey! Leave him alone you black eyed bastard!” 

 The demon ignored you and you started to panic when he brought the knife up to Dean’s face. You kept yelling, more desperate now. 

 “Why don’t you bring that over here bitch! Better yet, how about you let me out of these cuffs so I can kick your ass?”

 The demon straightened and turned to face you, a huge, evil smile on his face. He sauntered toward you as Dean hollered at him to leave you alone. Hearing the worry in Dean’s voice, you sent him an apology in your mind. You gritted your teeth and braced yourself when the demon crouched in front of you. You watched as he blinked and blue eyes looked you over. You weren’t expecting the soft touch of his hand on your cheek. You flinched and turned your head away from him as he laughed again. 

 “Well, aren’t you a feisty thing. You can’t be patient and wait your turn? That’s fine. I will just torture you and let your boytoy over there watch.”

 You heard Dean yelling again as the demon smiled and brought the hand on your cheek down to your chin. His thumb rubbed at your dry lips for a moment before he leaned toward you, close enough to kiss you. You reacted. In a sharp movement, you crashed your forehead to his, and kicked out with your legs. You were hoping he would drop the knife and you could grab it or kick it to Dean somehow but the demon just reared back and slapped you hard across the face. Your cheek burned and you were seeing stars but a laugh tore from your throat. The surprised look on his face made you laugh even harder. You stopped laughing when the demon’s eyes turned black and fury contorted his face. He snarled at you, 

 “You’re going to pay for that you little bitch.”      

 In a rage, the demon slapped you across the face again and then stood and kicked you hard in the ribs. You cried out in pain as he continued to kick you three more times. On the third blow you felt a rib crack. You could hear Dean screaming and fighting against his restraints. You also heard the drip drip, dripping from the ceiling. You tried to keep your breathing even and deep but you were struggling to breathe through the pain from your rib. The demon crouched back down at eye level with you. Looking back at him, you smiled and taunted him further. 

 "You hit like a bitch." 

 Once again, the demon slapped you across the face so hard that your lip split. You could feel the blood trickle down your chin. The demon pulled the knife out and held it in front of you to see. With a taunting expression he said, 

 "You should have kept your mouth shut. Now, I'm going to have fun carving you up real slow before I cut your throat and bleed you like a pig." 

 Drip Drip

 He plunged the knife into your leg and you screamed in pain. With a twisted smile, the demon pulled the blade out of your leg, causing you to scream again. He repeated the move with your other leg. The pain was making you dizzy and you tried to focus and stay conscious. You heard Dean now begging the demon to leave you alone and it broke your heart to hear it. Be strong Dean, you thought to yourself.

Drip 

Looking down, you saw blood everywhere but it didn't look like the demon had severed an artery. You gritted your teeth and focused on his face, internally chanting to yourself to not pass out. He smiled at you again before bringing the knife close to your throat. The knife tip touched your skin and the demon made a shallow cut across it. You weren't sure if it was the blood loss or if you were going into shock but you didn't feel pain. You just felt the blood running down your neck and over your chest. You heard a loud crash behind you accompanied by a new voice. Sam? Your vision was starting to blur, blackness creeping in the corners of your vision. You tried to turn your head, to see what was happening but you couldn’t focus anymore. You heard gunshots and the sounds of a fight going on behind you when suddenly everything was quiet and Dean was by your side. He was taking your handcuffs off and telling you to hold on, to stay with him. He was gingerly lifting you into his arms. You tried to stay awake; to tell Dean that you were sorry but darkness pulled you under.     

                                                        -

When you woke, you were lying in a hospital bed. Your head was fuzzy and every part of your body felt numb. You squinted at the window where bright sunlight shone through. Dean was sitting there under the window, sleeping with his head on his arms. His large, calloused hand resting on yours on the bed. You weren’t sure how long you lay there, watching him sleep, but eventually you joined him, drifting off peacefully.   

You were only in the hospital for a few days. Although you had lost a lot of blood, you didn’t have any permanent damage. You had a cracked rib, possible nerve damage in your legs, and some scarring on your throat. The doctor said you were lucky; you could have bled out and died if you hadn’t made it to the hospital as fast as you did. You were finally home, back in the bunker, and lying in your own bed. Dean had been mad for the first few days, telling you off for what you did and threatening you if you ever pulled a stunt like that again. You had just smiled sweetly and batting your eyes said, 

“I couldn’t let him touch your pretty face Dean. That would be a crime against humanity and women everywhere would have mourned the loss.”     

 Neither he nor Sam found that as funny as you did. Regardless, Dean’s anger had faded and now he was constantly fussing over you. He hadn’t left your side since the hospital. He had carried you, helped you bathe, wrapped your ribs, and changed your bandages on your legs and neck. He sat with you in bed all day, everyday, watching movies, reading, and playing cards. He was so focused on you and your comfort that you had started to worry about him. You told him you would be fine on your own but Dean had refused to leave; he insisted on taking care of you. It was sweet. This big man, a badass hunter, being so gentle with you made your insides all warm and gooey. 

You were both lying in bed now and the wounds on your legs itched like crazy. In the healing process they had started to scab over and no lotion or creams helped. Scratching at your bandages, Dean scolded you before gently grabbing your wrists to keep you from scratching. You groaned in response and he chuckled. Your wrists were still in his hands and he brought them to his lips. Placing kisses on your knuckles, he said, 

 “You know you can’t scratch at them baby...Maybe I could distract you though.”

You giggled when he leaned into your neck and kissed you, the contrast of his scruffy face and soft lips giving you goosebumps. Dean kissed your neck before moving on to kiss your chin and then placed a longer, warm kiss on your lips. Kissing him back, you sighed feeling happy and content. After a few minutes, he pulled away from you and grabbed your hand. With a serious look, he turned to face you and asked, 

“Promise me you won't do that again. Never put yourself in harm's way to protect me. I...I can’t lose you Y/N. I love you.” 

His words tugged at your heart but you argued, “I can’t promise that Dean. I will always fight for you. The way I feel..I don’t know. It’s like you give me strength. I would do anything to protect you.” 

Dean placed a soft kiss on your temple before murmuring, “Then I will just have to keep you here where we’re both safe.”  

Dean Tags:

@akshi8278

[bbyboybrock--archived]

The New Hampshire House (Trap House Imagine)

Summary: You and the trap house boys decided to travel to New Hampshire for a week to film Sam and Colby’s new series. Trouble arises on the first night.

Written: 2020

Word Count: 2,250

Warnings: Swearing, murder, haunted house

Masterlist

Slowly sliding through the mist came a faint human-like figure and went into the new house. I shrugged it off as my imagination and helped the guys carry everything inside.

When Sam, Colby, Jake, and Corey invited me on this trip, the last place I expected to be was in a haunted house in the middle of nowhere in New Hampshire. I knew we would be doing the typical stuff for the week: haunted overnights, explore videos, and midnight rituals. What I didn’t know is that they lied to me about our lodging situation. I was told we were going to be staying in this nice Air BnB in a cute little neighborhood. They even showed me pictures. But when we flew in Colby announced to me, because he had already talked to everyone while I was asleep on the plane, that there was a problem with the original house and he had to book this one last minute. We’ve been at this house for about 20 minutes and let me tell you, Bradford, New Hampshire looks and feels creepy. 

“Y/N, come in the living room, we have to talk.” I heard Sam shout from probably the living room.

“Coming!” I exclaimed. I walk into is what I think is the kitchen and spot Colby walks into a different room. I follow him and find everyone sitting around together.

“Y/N, we have to get a few things for this week and we need you to stay here and set up some stuff,” Sam explains when he sees me. 

“What? No way! I am not staying in this creepy house by myself! Why can’t we all go or one of you stay we me?” 

“We’re going shopping for food and supplies for the week. The rental is small and we need to get a lot of things.” Colby explains, patting the seat next to him for me to sit.

“Sure leave the four of you in charge of getting the food we’re going to be living on for the next week. You know what, I’m willing to put feminism back a few years for this. I’m the woman here and I’m probably going to be doing all the cooking anyway. I’ll go grocery shopping, Jake can stay home.” I sit on the armchair by myself and cross my legs; I’m not going out without a fight.

“Y/N, you know if we leave Jake, we’ll never get the deposit back.” Corey jokes. 

“Fine, then you stay Ye Rock.”  

“Fuck that, I’m not staying here.” 

“Then why do I have to?” 

“Please, Y/N, we’ll all owe you big time. We’ll be gone for an hour—two hours tops. We just need someone to charge the equipment and double-check that we have everything.” I throw my hands up and sink into the couch. There is no way I’m going to win this argument.

           I wave goodbye to everyone as they pull out of the driveway. I scan the street one more time before locking the door. We’re really the only house out here. Nothing but dirt and trees for miles. If I didn’t know any better, I would think we were in the middle of the suicide forest. I check all of the equipment that Sam and Colby left behind for me to charge. I stay downstairs for 20 minutes after that before going upstairs to my room to unpack a bit. I close the door and start putting my clothes away. 

Knock, knock, knock. 

I go and open the door, knowing that I’m the only one home, to find nobody there. It’s probably just one of the guys trying to scare me. Maybe they wanted to get a prank video done and make me the subject of their torture. I close the door and go into the closet to start putting some clothes on hangers again. I see a box probably, from the owners, tucked away in the corner. I know I probably shouldn’t open it, I’m a guest in this house. But my curiosity gets the best of me and I get the desk chair and climb on it to reach the shelf. After a few misses, I grab the old dusty brown box. I blow the dust off and open it to find old newspaper articles about this house.

THE DAILY NEWS: MAN MURDERED IN HIS OWN HOUSE

Mark White (Age 37) was murdered in his home today. He suffered head wounds and had multiple stab wounds. His wife (Arianna White, Age 35) found him dead in the family room with the possible murder weapon. Police officers found no fingerprints on the evidence… 

Out of all the houses in the area, Sam and Colby had to choose the murder house. They probably did this on purpose. I go through the box I see pictures of a man and a woman, probably Mark and Arianna, standing in front of the house. Then I pick up another newspaper article.

DAILY NEWS: WOMAN MURDERED IN HER HOME

Arianna White (Age 35) was murdered in her home today. She has suffered gunshot wounds to the head and chest. Mrs. White’s husband was murdered last month in the family room and his wife was found there dead. Her children found her dead when they came home from school and called 911. The family was in the process of moving.

           They have to be fucking with me. There is no way that this group of people, the group that is always doing spooky shit, just happened to book an Air BnB where two—possibly more—people have died. On top of that, them leaving me home along with wouldn’t be a coincidence either. There have to be hidden cameras around the house. How did I find the one room in the house that conveniently just had this box in it?

“No, absolutely fucking not. Nope. Fuck you guys. I’m over this, you picked the wrong bitch.” I shout to nobody in particular and put the box back. I grab my laptop and head to my bed to binge the series I started yesterday.

I must have been tired because I fell asleep while watching the show. It’s dark now and the house is unusually quiet. I sit up and turn on the light to look for my phone. I grab it and unlock my phone to a text from Colby saying that they dropped off the groceries but had to head out for something. He said that they didn’t want to wake me up, so they left without me and would come back with dinner. I rolled my eyes and head downstairs. I pass by the thermostat on the way down and turn on the heat. For the middle of summer, it’s oddly cold. 

When I get to the kitchen I check to see what the four dumb asses managed to get us for provisions. Surprisingly, they got things that we can have for actual meals, on top of snacks. I grab the stovetop popcorn and begin to make it. I turn around and hear a loud crash behind me. The bags on the dining room table were now on the floor. 

“Y/N,” I heard a faint voice say. This has to be a prank. They guys have to be home and hiding filming me somewhere.

“Get out of our house, Y/N.” Now I hear two faint voices one sounded like a man and the other sounded like a woman. This getting weird. Maybe they hired a woman to help prank me. Or maybe one of them finally nailed their fake woman voice.

“You guys can stop now! I’m actually scared so you won. You come out and welcome me to the prank war.” 

“Nobody’s here, Y/N. No one is going to help you.” The voices are getting closer. 

“I’m never doing another video with any of you, ever again. If you don’t— if you don’t come out right now I’ll move out.” 

“Then leave!” Something else falls somewhere else in the house, causing me to scream and jump back into the hot stove. If it’s not the guys, then the ghosts of this house are still here holding a grudge against their killers. I start getting goosebumps and the hair on the back of my neck as I turn off the stove.

“Sam, Colby, Jake, and Corey you better fuck off right now!” I yell as I start running to my room. This house is huge it’s easy to get lost. 

While I’m running things are flying and falling behind me. I’m going to kill them when I see them. After what seems like forever I finally get to my room. I lock the door and slide my back down it. I grab my phone from my back pocket and dial Colby’s number. As I call, I feel things getting thrown at the door.

“Hello—”

“Are you guys fucking with me right now?” I ask as I move myself to the closet.

“What do you mean? We’re not even home right now.” He sounds only mildly panicked, I don’t even know if he’s faking or not.

“Cole Robert Brock, are you and your asshole friends somewhere on property pulling a prank on me?” The banging on the door stopped and I poked my head out of the closet door.

“No, we’re on our way home from a witchcraft store for some ritual ingredients that we couldn’t find at the store. What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know, things are weird here and I’m over—” A loud bang at the door causing me to scream louder than I think I’ve ever done in my entire life.

“Oh, shit. Okay, we’ll be right there.” I hear Colby and everyone else running in the background. I don’t know if it was my scream or if they heard the bang in the background, but now they’re done fucking around.

Colby stays on the phone with me while I go back to hiding in the closet. A few minutes later I hear footsteps approaching my door. When the footsteps get close enough, that when the loud banging started up again, causing me to scream.

“Oh, fuck, sorry. Y/N, it’s just us, open the door.” Colby says on the other line.

I take a few deep breaths and open the door to reveal my idiots, scared out of their minds. I drop my phone and wrap my arms around Colby. I didn’t even realize I was crying until Colby hugged me back and started stroking my hair. Normally, I hate it when he does this because his rings get stuck in my hair, but right now I just need this hug from my best friend.

“What the fuck happened to the house?” Jake asks, breaking the silence.

“What do you mean? It was your guys’ prank.” I pull away from Colby and look at the four of them in disbelief. 

“Uh, not it’s not. The box in your closet, the stuff in your bathroom, and the two dummies outside are our pranks. All this other shit was all you.” Corey says, picking up broken glass and dropping it on the floor. 

“No, it wasn’t. Do you honestly think I’m that good of an actress? I broke character like two months ago when I tried to convince Sam that Colby fell into a ditch the last time we did an overnight. Do you genuinely think I could sit here, screaming and crying for fun? Or that I would somehow have the time to break all that shit and stage the knocking on my door.” I wipe my face and step back to finally let the boys in my room.

“She’s not wrong guys, she does share a brain cell with us. I don’t think she could pull this off. She didn’t even know we were coming here until this afternoon and she can’t think that fast.” Jake says before flopping himself on my bed.

“You know what Webber, I may be scared, but I’m not scared to throw these hands—”

“Guys! Let’s think about this. Couldn’t it have been an earthquake or something? Or the movement of Y/N running. It’s a pretty old house.”

“It can’t be an earthquake dude, I’m pretty sure New Hampshire hasn’t unlocked those yet,” Corey explains.

“Okay, first of all, Sam I’m pretty sure you called me fat but I’ll deal with that later. Second, Corey, you’re so fucking stupid, I swear to God. I’m constantly worried about your well being. And thirdly, Colby either you’re sleeping in here with me or I’m sleeping in your room with you because I refuse to sleep alone tonight.” I explain, sitting down on the floor.

“Wait, can we talk about this seriously. If none of us set up this prank, then who the fuck did. Do you think the owners of this house are doing this? Because if they are, I vote we get the fuck out right now.”

“Why would they even do that?” Sam asks, now joining me on the floor. 

“To scare us before they murder us, brother,” Jake says jokingly from my bed.

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Corey says from the door.

“Can we be serious for one second—” Sam is cut off by the lights going out, covering us in a deep velvet of pitch black. Not even the windows are helping. All five of us scream but dare not move.

[sir-silly]

TWDG S2 First Playthrough

E1 - Omid’s death is always such a bitchslap. It’s so stupid. Literally, why did they send her in there on her own? Are you kidding me? It’s ridiculous. Omid didn’t have to die. 16 months later?? What??? It would have made way more sense to have made the DLC about those sixteen months and then start at Christa’s camp with no baby or Omid instead of what we got instead. Bull. AND WE STILL DON’T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO CHRISTA.

I think out of the entirety of season 2, Clementine and Luke’s relationship in the first three episodes is my favorite. He becomes an alien after episode two, but he becomes intolerable after three. He’s just such a big brother to her and knows that she can take care of herself. Their relationship is similar to what I think Clem and Ben’s would have been if they ended up alone together after season 1.

I stole Nick’s watch, I’m not sure if I’ll give it back yet just because I think it’s hilarious that you can take it and not give it to him. Speaking of Nick, he 110% sees you when you look through the kitchen door if you never back out and he doesn’t say anything. I decided to go with Pete at the end just because I’ve never seen it played out before.

E2 - Well, ironically enough I prefer going with Nick. The first few times I saw it, I hated it, but it’s really grown on me throughout the years. Pete’s just didn’t feel as emotional or like it had much of an affect on Clementine. I also prefer him telling her about his mom in that shed rather than later on.

Another thing I love about Luke and Clem’s relationship, even though he knows she can take care of herself, he still tries to protect her. He holds his arm out in front of her when Matthew is approaching them on the bridge and is the one that pulls her down to keep her from getting shot. The banter they have is just really sweet and I miss that dynamic between them, I wish it carried throughout the rest of the season.

I was thinking about a missed opportunity the writer’s had while I was playing. Instead of having Walter die no matter what and Nick either die in episode two or four, whether you tell him the truth and/or convince him to forgive Nick should have a different outcome. Only one of them makes it to Howe’s depending on what you decided. You couldn’t convince Walter to forgive him? Nick goes out of his way to save Walter and Carver kills him. You told him Nick was a good guy? Walter sacrifices himself for Nick and gets killed instead. It would give a bigger variety and it would be really interesting to see how Walter would deal with being at Howe’s.

E3 - Troy makes me so uncomfortable. I know they were planning to have him do a lot worse, but he’s still just so ugh, you know? I’m physically incapable of liking Bonnie the more I see season 2. I just know that literally everything is because of her. She finds the group at the ski lodge, she blames Clementine for Luke’s death if she shoots the walkers LIKE HE ASKED, and she’s fully prepared to fucking leave her with a couple maniacs and a baby. Just her presence pisses me off.

I know I’m talking a lot about Clem and Luke, but I don’t care because I just love their relationship before he becomes an alien. I had her hug him which was really cute but I also want to see his reaction if she hits him which I think I’ll do next time. I know he pushes her to do things like every adult in this season, but he still actually seems to worry about her because he is hesitant about sending her to turn on the PA and he stands up to Carver when he says that Clem has seen more things than they could imagine.

E4 - I had no clue what I was going to do with Sarita, but I did end up chopping off her arm. I will forever hate how the adults are like "Kenny's being so scary, he's yelling, I thought he was gonna shoot me" and then they force Clem to go over there even if she says she doesn't want to.

I didn't know this until I looked it up just now, but apparently Nick died from a bite on the neck? This whole time, I thought he somehow just bled out from the gunshot to his shoulder, and I honestly don't know which is worse. His death is such bullshit. You know what else is bullshit? Alien Luke. Literally Rebecca shows more emotion than he does, and it was for all of 2 damn seconds. You know what I would have preferred?

Have Luke start breaking down. Make him just as unable to move as Sarah. Let him lose his mind over the fact that he just lost his best friend of "damn near 20 years" and make us decide whether we convince Luke or Sarah to escape. It's not convince Sarah or leave her, it's you can only save one of them. Again, more variety for those who aren't a fan of Luke and actually make it a hard decision because I feel like I would have a WAY harder time with that than whether to leave Sarah (I didn't by the way).

When Clem looks at the cannon and Jane says, "check the muzzle, napoleon" I really wish there was an option to be like, "Jane, I have a first grade education. I don't know my times tables, who the hell napoleon is, or what the fuck versatility means OR how to spell it. Keep yo damn nail file."

Another thing they could have done with Sarah, is if you saved her in the trailer park, she could have potentially saved herself. And this would be a really interesting one, because the determining factor would have been a thing that appeared as a dialogue option, not a choice choice. In episode two, you can teach her how to use a gun if you pick the right choice. Instead of having her die no matter what, if you showed her, let her actually show that she learned something and is capable of learning how to survive.

Rebecca’s whole situation is bullshit, too. You know, I’d be okay with it if it was changed. If you didn’t give her the pills, the coat and you left the observation deck early, I could buy her dying from hypothermia, exposure, blood loss, etc. But if you give her those things and you stay a few days, I would rather her have died in the firefight. It would have made way more sense. Like, I know a hell of a lot of things can go wrong during giving birth, especially without medical care, but after THREE damn days? I don’t know about that. Whatever you wanna say it was, a placental abruption, hemorrhaging, whatever - she would have died way quicker, not taken three days.

E5 - The writers had two good opportunities to get a chance to kill Kenny before the rest stop was ever a thing. They could have made Natasha go for him and you have the choice of shooting her or not. The could have been done later on when they’re walking through the woods and one comes up behind him. So, say you don’t let him get bitten the first time, but you’re seeing how unhinged he’s becoming, so you let it happen the second time. After that, you don’t get another opportunity.

Another thing about the pills, they’re so annoying. Like, you can only give them to one person. Rebecca, Luke or I think maybe Kenny. Because apparently there were only two damn pills in that bottle that shook like it was full. It’s so annoying. You should be able to give it to whoever you want, not just one of them.

I have so many problems with the ice scene. Yes, Luke, there are in fact TWO ways around. You see those trees? There’s these things called GAPS between them and the lake isn’t so damn big that you couldn’t walk around the damn lake. GRRRRR. When the ice started cracking, where were the choices to tell Luke to throw his gun away from him and to tell Bonnie to keep her fat ass put? “The small child is light, let them do it!” small child: no “Guess I’m just as light as her!” FUCK YOU BONNIE! THEN YOU HAVE THE FUCKING AUDACITY TO BLAME CLEMENTINE WHEN IT WAS CLEARLY YOUR FUCKING FAULT! YOU LITTLE WHORE ASS BITCH-

Sorry. I’m never going to get over Luke’s death or how fucking pissed I am at Bonnie and Mike. They can get fucked for all I care. Can I say, it’s also BULLSHIT that Bonnie makes it out of the ice but Luke doesn’t. Are you kidding me? She can find the hole, but he can’t (😳)?! GRRRR.

I was dreading that rest stop this whole damn game. I had no fucking clue what I was going to do when I finally got there, but I did end up deciding to shoot Kenny and leave Jane behind. I really struggled with deciding and I almost ended up not picking anything (which results in Jane’s death anyway). As much as I despise season 2 Kenny, I also despise Jane for what she did. I kinda wish I had looked away and then shot Kenny afterwards, but it is what it is.

[heresyourramen]

First Date : Jungkook Imagine

A fluffy first date imagine about Y/N and Jeon Jungkook from BTS.

I hope it’s okay, and you enjoy it!

It was a blind date. 

Another one.

In fact you had pretty much given up hope on finding love as a college graduate after the first three dates but your roommate had insisted this boy wouldn’t be half as trash as the previous ones. 

You didn’t really know if you could trust her instincts any more, they were getting shady. So far all three of the guys had been far misses. Still only dressed in your towel you flopped onto your unmade bed. 

“Ow, shit!” You look down to see that you had flopped right onto your eyelash curler of all things and let out a frustrated sigh.

What do you even wear to an Arcade? 

The last time you visited one you were 13, who decides to go there at the age of 23? If that wasn’t enough, it was Autumn and winter was closing in fast, cancelling out all those cute little summer dresses and skirts you preferred wearing on first dates.  

After giving up on your less than cold weather appropriate closet, you decide to slip on your usual pair of ripped skinny jeans and your old university sweater. You did light make up and left your hair loose. Slipping on your air forces and a big puffy jacket you leave the warmth of your small apartment and make your way to the designated date spot. 

He’d told you to meet him by the tree decorated with fairy lights outside the arcade but the guy standing there couldn’t possibly be your date. You couldn’t help but stand there in disbelief and instant regret at your half-assed outfit. You even contemplated going back to your apartment for a change but the 20 minute trip would be less than appropriate if you wanted a chance at a second date.

His long dark hair was wavy and parted in the middle, unveiling his big doe like eyes as they wandered around the crowd curiously  and slightly covering his ears where some earrings dangled. He stood with his hands in the pockets of his ripped black skinny jeans and awkwardly shuffling his black boots from side to side as he tried to adjust to the cold, his grey sweater obviously not as cold breeze resistant as it looked. Quickly fixing your hair, you made your way up to where he stood. Looking up with a shy smile you decided to make your presence known.

“Hi, are you Jeon Jungkook?” his big eyes settled on you and slightly widened as if he was surprised before he held his hand out and gave you a quick nod.

“Y/N?” he said your name as if it was a question and you nodded confirming your identity.

“Want to go inside? It’s pretty cold outside.” You suggested more for his part than your own.

“Oh thank God, it’s freezing.” He said with an awkward grin before taking long strides towards the entrance before pausing and looking back at you who struggled to keep up with your short legs, he slowed down his pace to match it with yours. 

Pushing open the arcades doors you noticed the dark interior was filled with thousands of little flickering neon lights, each game with it’s own unique colour scheme. A wave of nostalgia hit you as you noticed a group of kids competing against one another on one of those dancing games that your uncoordinated self could never even consider attempting. A poppy tune played somewhere faintly but the sounds of the loud games were making it difficult to hear which song it was exactly. 

“Uh do you want me to take your jacket? We have to get some tickets, I can give it to them to keep while we’re busy.” He explained and pointed at the booth stuck in a corner of the massive space. You slip off your jacket and hand it to him.

“Go look around and pick a game so long, I’ll be back in a second.” He gave you a friendly smile before making his way to the booth, your coat tucked under his arm. Awkwardly you made your way through the rows of different games, your two sizes to big sweaters sleeves covering your hands. You must have looked like a lost child in a store because when Jungkook made it back to you he seemed concerned. “Are you okay? You look like someone who’s walked into a physics lecture by mistake”

“Uh yeah, I just, I can’t remember the last time I was in an arcade but I blame that on me blocking all my memories of being a teenager.” He chuckled softly before making his way over to a basketball game. 

“Let’s start off simple then?” He gave you a soft smile before the loud music and announcer's voice signaled the start of the game. You were sure he had your best interest at heart and genuinely thought it might be easy but your heart stopped at the thought of any target. Not only had your small body proven itself unable to walk on flat surfaces without tripping it had also made a point that not even running was a safe sport for you to do. He handed you the ball and you made an effort to hide your reluctance as you took it. 

As you expected you had widely over estimated the target, hitting the board above the net with enough force to have the ball come flying right back towards you. Had your date not graciously tugged you out of the way, the date would probably have ended 2 minutes in with you on your way to the hospital with a bloody nose. 

You were suddenly very aware of your surroundings, especially how your back was pressed up against the body behind you. His hands gripped your arms and you noticed the faint tattoos on his right hand as you looked down at it before slowly sliding out of his grasp.

“Let’s avoid any games that require any athletic ability if possible?” You suggested as you walked over to collect the ball handing it back to him sheepishly. You saw the smile on his face and you watched as his nose scrunched as he started to laugh. You could feel your ears and cheeks go a bright red in embarrassment but you couldn’t help but think his laugh wasn’t degrading you like guys often did when you said something strange, and as the light chuckles continued to fill the air you couldn’t help but laugh along with him. Both of you standing in front of a game that’s timer had run out, giggling like 6 year old’s at each other.

“You’re a lot stronger than you look.” He said as he tried to compose himself, you wiped away some tears that had started in the corner of your eyes from all the laughing.

“I agree no more sporty games, you might break the strength measuring games.” He said with a grin and a small wink as you both made your way over to some of the older looking games, luckily they only required you pressing buttons. 

For the next hour your childish competitiveness ran free as the two of you actively tried to beat the other in whatever game you found yourself playing. He ended up persuading you to play one of the newer looking games, hesitantly you picked up the plastic gun and stood in front of the screen. As soon as the game started you were bombarded with the sounds of gunshots and your confusion didn’t even last 30 seconds before your character had died. The game loudly announced your failure and you felt your ears go red with frustration and embarrassment. 

“You haven’t played a game like this before right?” Jungkook said, putting down his own plastic gun and giving you a small smile, you shook your head ‘no’. “I was wondering why you suddenly started letting me win at something.” that was a lie, you had narrowly beaten him at maybe three of the games but you appreciated his attempt at making you feel better. 

“Here, let me help you.” He put in another ticket and selected single player mode and moved to stand behind you. For the second time that day you were very aware of how much smaller you were than him, Your back was pressed against his hard chest and you felt his arms wrap around your body as he placed his hands over your own as you both held the plastic gun. The loud boom of the game was blocked out as your senses suddenly focused on how good he smelled and how gently his hands held yours, everytime his hands moved slightly to aim you felt tingles on your finger tips. It didn’t take too long until  the character on the screen was overwhelmed and the game ended. You felt him step away, his hands no longer holding yours as he let go, he looked down at you with a small smile and you felt yourself blushing again but this time not because of the game. 

“That was our last ticket and it’s pretty late, lets get your jacket and go get some food.” He suggested and you followed after him to the front desk. He helped you slip on your jacket and you guys went outside only to be hit with a bone chilling breeze. You saw him visibly shiver at the cold. 

“Um, do you want to use this instead?” You started taking off your coat but he stopped you. 

“No! It’s okay, look there’s a food cart!” he took your hand and started making your way over to where the warm food was steaming, he ordered and paid before you could open your wallet to pay your half, not once letting go of your hand. You felt bad as he stood awkwardly shuffling because of the cold so you made a daring decision. You gently guided the hand he held into one of the big pockets of your coat, he turned his head from where he was watching the elderly lady assemble your meals and grinned as he gave your small hand a squeeze. You guys got your food and you suggested heading to your apartment to eat it there, the walk was short but he held your hand in your pocket all the way until you had to use it to unlock the door. You watched as he nearly sprinted into the warm interior and you couldn't help but smile at the little waddle he did. 

You took out bowls and cutlery for your food and put on the kettle to make you both some tea. When you walked back into your tiny living room, you saw your dates big body had somehow managed to squish himself in the space between the coffee table and the couch, you placed everything down and quickly selected a random movie before you both started to eat your food when you were both finished he helped you carry everything back to the kitchen. 

After the both of you settled on the old couch under a variety of blankets as you continued to watch the movie, it wasn't long until you felt your eyes slowly falling shut, job hunting had tired you out and the excitement of the day seems to have drained you.

Jungkook stiffened when he felt your head suddenly rest on your shoulder but relaxed when he saw your closed eyes and felt your slow breaths. The excitement of the day had worn both of you out and he couldn’t help but feel relieved that he wasn’t the only one who was tired. He gently brushed the hair out of your face before adjusting himself that you both were comfortable, your head rested on his chest as your arms automatically draped around his waist in your sleep, he rubbed soft circles on your back before finally dozing off himself. 

He woke up, his nose being tempted by the familiar smell of bacon and fried eggs, his eyes wandered to where you stood in your clothes from the day before making breakfast softly humming a tune. He looked down to see himself covered by a few million blankets before he rubbed his eyes, when he opened them again he saw you standing there with two plates and a friendly smile.

“Good morning!” you said cheerfully and put down the plate on the coffee table. “Morning Y/N, I didn’t realise date two would be so soon.” Jungkook said with a sleepy smile before happily digging into the delicious breakfast.

[jennbabeyy]

Stepmom Material (Pt. 8)

A/n: Sorry for the long wait ! Part 8 is finally here. We get to see a little glimpse of what was behind Coco’s decision. Thank you guys for loving Stepmom Material. Let me know what y��all think!

Coco leaned against the wall, his eyes moving around the crowd. The murmurs and conversation carried around him without any distractions or any glances at him. It was a bit of a reflex, something he found himself trying not to do when he went somewhere. Though this time, it wasn’t a reflex, he was looking for the face he now only sees in his dreams.That certain face he was looking for was no longer in his life and he didn’t really have anything or anyone to blame but himself.  

The crowd around him seemed to get bigger by the minute and Coco tried to not let the noises get to him. He’s not a huge fan of big crowds but something in him wanted to be here. There wasn’t a personal invitation from any of them and he knew he had no right trying to be here after all the shit he has pulled. 

But he was proud. 

Johnny Coco Cruz was proud of his daughter when he heard first from Angel that she was getting the highest achievement award from her high school. His daughter was doing big things and he wasn’t there next to her side to be able to enjoy it. But someone else was. 

Y/n had taken Letty in during one of the most difficult times ever for everyone. Coco didn’t remember much except from finally waking up in a room at the small clinic that the Mayans used when someone got hurt. The only thing that came to mind was his entire body screaming in pain.The days after that were a bit hazy. 

Shit was tough for a while, Coco was tied down in a bed recovering from two gunshots, one in the shoulder, another in the chest. His recovery took twice as much as expected and there was nothing he could do. He was alone most of the time, only company besides his brothers was the nice older nurse with the motherly touch he never had. 

She took care of him, encouraged him to get better. He was in pain most of the time but he deserved it. The pain reminded him of the shit he’s done in the past and he took that shit in with no complaints. According to Angel he almost died during surgery and having Creeper and Tranq in the operating room wasn’t helping the doctor.  His brothers thought he was some type of badass, a legend going down in Mayan history for surviving the worst of the worst. 

Though he didn’t feel like it. 

They never visited him those 6 months he was recovering. 

That was everything he needed to stay away. He was the poison in their lives and he didn’t want to bring any of them down. 

A small cough next to him brought him out of his daydream and he knew who it was without turning his head.

“Thought I would find you here.” Angel spoke, his eyes wandering the crowd before stopping on the familiar head sitting in the front row. 

Coco starred in the same direction, his eyes never leaving Y/n. Her hair was longer than he has last seen before and his fingers twitch at his side. His favorite thing was to run his fingers through her hair while cuddling on the couch. He still remembers the softness of her hair, especially when he misses her the most. 

“I couldn’t bring myself to miss this , even if they don’t want me here.” 

From the corner of his eye, Coco saw Angel nod his head in agreement. There wasn’t much he could say to him about everything that’s happened. He already had to deal with Bishop lecturing him the moment he woke up in the clinic. 

News had already broke that Johnny was giving up his rights as a father and leaving Letty in Y/n’s guardianship. And Bishop made sure to use every second he had to let him know how much of a good one he had lost because of selfish reasons. But little do they know what he was doing was the most selfless thing he’s done in years. 

“Ez said she’s doing good. No more sneaking out late and shit.” Angel nodded his head towards the former prospect, who was sitting in the front row seat next to Y/n. Both of them were currently laughing at something one of them said.

She looked carefree, and glowing. Ez had made an impact on both girls' lives, keeping his promises to not only Letty but Y/n. Making sure Letty could understand her homework or even challenged her with new books everytime he came to visit. 

“She happy?” Coco turned to finally face Angel, eying his best friend since they were teenagers. He was the only one during these couple of months to completely take Coco under his care.

“Leticia? I mean yeah, but she’s a teenager and she’s got all these hormones raging up. Ez said there were a couple of times she lost her temper at the teacher and Y/n had to take over to make sure she wouldn’t get a full month of detention. Something about challenging the teacher over some sexist shit he said in class.”

Coco chuckled, and shook his head. Yeah she was all him all right. There was nothing that Leticia took after her birth mother and he was fucking thankful for that. She has been a one night thing and ended up back at his place pregnant. 

He thought his life was over at the thought of having a child. And when Leticia was born, a part of him warmed up to the idea of being a father. He was on the right track and he was going to be the best dad he could even if he never had one to begin with. 

And he thought he was going to make it. 

Until she left them, stating he wasn’t good enough to be a father with the type of lifestyle he had going. Her words played on replay that entire night, and it got to him. He couldn’t be a single dad to a four month old baby. 

Leticia wasn’t going to have a better future if she stayed here with him. He didn’t know shit about being a parent, his own mother was a shitty parent. 

Angel found them a day later with Letty screaming her lungs out and Coco being sleep deprived.   

While Angel took care of Letty, Coco took a shower where he finally made a decision. 

Letty’s mother was right, one night and he couldn’t even get through it without Letty crying the entire time. The best thing to do was putting her up for adoption with a family that would be able to give her anything, and everything she wanted and deserved. 

Because she deserved more than him. She definitely deserved more than his shitty ass mom. 

And that’s what he did. Until his mom found out and took her in. 

Then shit really went bad. There’s never a day where he beats himself up about the way his mom treated Letty or about the way Leticia spent almost her entire life thinking he was her older brother. 

He couldn’t take those years back, no matter how much he tried to make sure she was good. To have a family she deserved. Something always came to ruin everything. 

Coco cleared his throat, turning his attention back to the front row. Leticia had now joined Y/n and Ez talking to them excitedly, her eyes lit up as she explained something to Ez. And he laughed at her explanation. 

She deserved that. 

Looking at both of them took him back to the night. Noone knew about it. He kept it to himself. Not even Angel who at this point knew his darkest and sinful secrets and he wanted to keep it that way. 

That night at the clubhouse when it was boy’s night playing poker with his brothers. Noone knew that before that he had been riding through town when he ran into her. 

It had been 16 years since he last saw her. The last thing he remembers of her was Letty screaming in the background and her walking out the door with bags in each hand. 

In all honesty, he thought she would’ve overdosed by now. Letty’s mom was no saint, never really had a permanent home. Always hanging with the wrong crowd and doing favors in exchange for some sort of drugs.

But there she was, hanging off some random dude without a care in the world. He wanted to leave before she saw him, but the second his eyes met hers. He knew shit was going to come crashing down. 

A smirk appeared on her face, and when he heard Letty’s name come out of her mouth. It was like a rage of anger overcame his body and he saw red. 

How dare she say his daughter’s name just like nothing. The same one she left behind so she could still be the street hoe who gives daily blowjobs for some drugs. 

The same words she once yelled at him 16 years earlier, were the same ones he heard as he walked out of the place and hopped on his motorcycle. 

The words he tried to keep out of his mind were finally set free and she fucking did it. 

16 years later she fucking broke him again. And she knew what she was doing. 

Angel’s voice brought him back to reality and he followed Angel's eyes toward the front of the auditorium where the principal finally started the ceremony. 

Coco tried to stand still while the ceremony continued and saw as other kids were honored. He heard Angel chuckled beside him as Coco shifted once again. He couldn’t really be in one place for a long time, his nerves were getting the best of him. 

Angel nodded his head towards Letty’s direction where she was acting the same way. Shifting in her seat and constantly fixing her hair. She was nervous as well. Y/n had given up at telling her to stop, it was no use. Leticia always fidgeted in her seat, it was their thing.

A smile made its way towards his face, even at times like these they were in sync. It was like they have always been in each other's lives. And he wished it was like that. 

“And for our next award, I would like to take the time to list the many accomplishments this young lady has achieved. She has managed to become our only student to reach the highest GPA in our school. We had a bit of a troubled start when Leticia first started out with us. Lunch detention became a constant thing with Letty. I like to joke that maybe she just wanted to eat lunch with me.”

The crowd laughed, while Letty covered her face with her hands in embarrassment. 

“But after getting to know Letty, I realized that she is a passionate student. She is intelligent and she is not afraid to give the boys on the debate team a piece of her mind. Which let me tell you, I have never seen a group of boys constantly being challenged like that. She stands up to defend others and she is kind to those around her. This past year I have seen an amazing change with Leticia, not only were her grades going up but actually attending every class. She has truly made a difference not only within herself but here at this school. All she needed was a push and people to believe in her.”

Coco watched as Letty leaned on Y/n, and his heart soared at the sight in front of him. 

“So on behalf of the school and myself, we like to honor Leticia Cruz with this academic achievement award.” 

The room roared with applause as Letty stood up giving both Y/n and Ez a hug before making her way towards the stage. A folded piece of paper in her hands and from where Coco was standing he could see her hand slightly shaking of nerves. 

Next to him, Angel had his phone out taking pictures as Letty received her award and shook hands with the faculty staff. Coco never took his eye of his daughter, taking in the pride he felt in that moment. He’ll just have Angel send him those photos later, he didn’t want to miss anything.

And watching his daughter march up on stage with a sense of confidence, this was it. This is what he wants for her and no one around him saw that Letty wouldn’t be able to achieve this with him in her life. She was meant to be out of his life for the better. Like it was planned 16 years ago.

The room became quiet when Letty reached the podium. Placing her piece of paper in front of her, she let out a deep breath. 

“Uh, when Mrs. Rivera approached me a couple weeks ago about writing a speech, I instantly said no. I’m not a big fan of crowds even if she threaten lunch detention.” Letty looked around, feeling every eye on her as the crowd chuckled. 

“But my guardian made me realize that I should be proud of my accomplishments, to be able to take this moment in and she also threatened to ground me. And she is kinda scary so-” Letty smiled at Y/n, who shook her head.  

Letty continued her speech, not sounding as nervous, “I want to thank Mrs. Rivera, for not only taking the time to push me but to be able to give me a second chance. Most people take a look at me and instantly decide that I shouldn’t be able to achieve certain dreams or be even be given a second chance. I was given a second chance, not only in school but at home too. I want to thank Y/n, ever since I’ve met her she's been the rock I never had but needed.”

Coco watched as Ez wrapped his arm around Y/n and shook her gently to congratulate her. 

“She’s been the mom I’ve never had and I know we go at it sometimes but I’m thankful to have you and be able to just talk to you. You’re my mom and thank you for taking that role and taking care of me.” 

Letty looked up from her paper as she searched the audience in front of her. Coco leaned against the wall, and held his breath knowing what was coming next. Angel cleared his throat, as he looked at anything besides the teenage girl in front of him. 

His eyes met hers, and he saw the shock go through her body. She gasped quietly but the microphone in front of her picked it up and even from where he was standing he could hear it clearly. He could feel her eyes searching his body, and he knew she was making sure his injury wasn’t as bad as everyone made it seem. He was covered up though, his scars were there but no one will be able to see them. And he wanted it that way. 

Letty stood still, her eyes never leaving his. It was a few seconds but Y/n managed to notice that Letty’s attention was taken away and turned around to see what Letty was looking at. 

When he finally took his eyes away from Letty, he immediately met Y/n and he could see the tears gather up in her eyes. They weren’t expecting to see him anytime soon or if he even was healed enough to walk around town.

Shallowing the lump in his throat, Coco managed to take away his eyes from the beautiful face he had missed all these months and when he saw the tears stream down her face, he knew he couldn’t take it anymore. So he painfully broke eye contact and turned to Angel as they walked out of the auditorium. 

A smile reached his face when he heard Letty continue her speech as if nothing happened and continued to thank Ez for helping her with her homework, along with other teachers. 

That’s my girl.

Tagged: 

@carlaangel86​ @xnarca​ @bellamyblech @royale-trash-slytherin @hgs2018 @imagines-and-preferences1216 @i-just-feel-gr3at @sweet-bumble-bee @plentyoffandoms @technicallyvirtualmilkshake​ @poetsheart @onelovesr @docsangel​ @may114​ @glimmerglittergirl​ @whovianayesha​ @trulysucuubus @laricebabe

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Hi! Would it be possible to ask if you could write about Arthur? I was thinking about Arthur falling for a new member of the group who’s pretty dangerous and has a tough exterior, but eventually Arthur is able to get through and bring out the childish and playful side of her, falling for her tough side and her soft side? I hope that makes sense, thank you!!

Okay, I must admit, this one was hard for me to write because I just had a conversation with my therapist yesterday about some of the problems brought up in this piece. So heads up, this piece is pretty much my own way of processing this, is 100% self indulgent, and about 10,000% pure fluff! 

(I chose these pics because he is just too darn cute.) 

Word count: ~6.000

Warnings: extreme amounts of fluff, mentions of blood, childhood abuse, mentions of grief (I don’t know if any of these might actually be triggers, but in case they are...) 

You lower your gun, spitting on the man’s body, whom you just shot. His blood seeps into the grass. 

“Horrible man,” you hiss, glaring at his corpse and holstering your gun. You walk back to the wagon where Arthur and John are going through the boxes. John had gotten a tip about this wagon, owned by a popular goods manufacturer. These wagons are always a hit or miss as they sometimes carry expensive items, such as jewelry, paintings, cash and other times nothing but documents, clothes and worthless household items. It’s always easy to determine how valuable the items are judged by the toughness of the driver and his companion. 

For this wagon, the armed companion had been dealt with by John and Arthur, who’d given them quite a mouthful of insults. The driver was a different matter. He’d pretended to be harmless and quickly left the wagon, but when he saw you with the robbers, he went off, stating that no self-respecting criminals would let a girl do any of the hard work. John and Arthur just traded smug smiles and let you handle him. They knew exactly how easily you got fired up. The driver turned out to be too easy of a kill. 

You put your hands on the edge of the wagon. “Anything good?” you say. Arthur, who’s closest to you, sighs and straightens up. 

“Think this company’s gettin’ wise to low lifes like us. There’s hardly worth anything here.”

“Seriously?” you say, looking at the open chests. “But that companion was a hard ass.” 

“Like I said, think the company’s catching on. Way to go, Marston.” 

“How was I to know there wouldn’t be nothing here?” John snaps. “My guess was as good as yours on the value of the wagon.” 

As Arthur opens his mouth to retort, you interrupt. “How about we get the hell out of here before the law turns up? I doubt them gunshots went unheard.” 

The boys agree and they take the few items that are worth stealing, mostly cans of food and bottles of liquor. You unhitch the horses tied to the wagons and let them loose, which John scoffs at and Arthur raises a questioning brow. 

When the three of you return to Clemens Point, Arthur walks over to you as you’re grooming your horse. 

“Can I ask why you do that?” he says. 

“Do what?” 

“Well, I notice that every job with a wagon or a stage, you let the horses go. It ain’t like it’s hurtin’ ‘em bein’ tied up.” 

You pause. You glue your eyes to your horse’s neck when you finally speak. “If I was a horse and tied up like that and my driver died, I wouldn’t wanna be stuck like that until someone found me. I imagine they’d like being able to move around, graze, find some water.” 

This strikes Arthur. He’s seen firsthand how vicious and unforgiving you can be. Hell, there are times you’ve whipped out your gun and shot it before he could even pull his own out of its holster. Sure, he knows you love your horse more than just about anything. He never thought you could care about some horses whom you’ve no connection with.

“Well, I guess when you put it that way,” he says softly. “Maybe I’ll start doin’ it too.” 

You put your brush away. “I honestly don’t know if it helps or not, Arthur. I just imagine they appreciate it, in their own ways.” 

You walk away from him, heading for Pearson’s fire where he’s set out dinner. Your brusque response to Arthur was nothing new. He’s used to your short answers and even your cold manners. However, watching you unleash those horses has got him thinking: is there a soft side to you?

He’d never have thought that before. He’s seen you shoot men who begged on their knees for you to spare them, seen you rip the flesh from small animals after you’ve shot them without blinking an eye. Hell, you can run with the best in the gang. He remembers that bar fight in Valentine. Before he’d gotten tackled by that big fella Tommy he’d seen you pummeling some guy nearly twice your size, his nose bleeding and his eye purpling under your fist. He’d also seen you take your fair share of hits and knows you can hold yourself up after them too. He recalls a couple years ago, not very long after you joined, how one fella you were fighting with shot you in the leg. Despite the obvious pain, you’d gotten up, walked yourself to your horse and rode back to camp without a single complaint. 

He watches you dish up your plate, his mind reeling with the possible complexities of your character. You don’t notice and you wander off to go and eat at the round table. He comes and joins you at the table with his own plate, but doesn’t mind when you don’t start a conversation. Unlike the other women, you’re happy to sit in silence. In fact, you’re much like Charles in that if you don’t want to talk, you’re not going to. Arthur admires you secretly. You’re strong and unmovable, nothing seems to scare you. How many guns have you looked down and you didn’t bat an eye? 

When Arthur sees you’re done eating, he stands up and reaches for your tin to take it. His hand accidentally brushes your arm and you quickly snap it away, your hard eyes glaring at his hand. 

“Sorry,” he says. When you see he’s just taking your plate, you relax and thank him quietly. He has another thing about you to think on. Now that he thinks about it, he’s never seen you touching anyone, not even in a friendly or reassuring manner. Nor has he seen anyone successfully touch you. One time Sean, after making a joke about how frightening you were, he patted you on the shoulder and you immediately pulled away from him. 

When you’d come back to camp with that bullet in your leg, you didn’t make any sound of complaint until Susan and Tilly tried to get the bullet out. Arthur recalls how upset you’d gotten when they tried to touch your leg, and how almost feral you’d become when Karen tried to hold you down so the others could get the bullet out. Arthur knew it had nothing to do with the pain and more to do with that they were touching you. Sure, Arthur’s not used to being touched either, but he’s never known anyone to get upset about being touched. 

Arthur settles down in his cot for the night, his mind still turning with thoughts of you. Despite the years you’ve been running with the gang, he finds that he still hardly knows a thing about you. You’d run away from your family, fell in with a smaller gang that then got torn apart by the law, some were arrested, some were killed and you were one of the few to escape. That was when you fell in with this bunch. But Arthur realizes that other than that and that you’re capable with a gun and an expert horse rider, he doesn’t know a thing about you. 

*********************************

In the morning, Arthur has a plan on maybe learning about you. He’s always been a curious man and your secretive nature only makes him moreso. He looks around camp but doesn’t find you. Your horse is still tied up, and then he spots you on the pier, a fishing pole in hand. Perfect. 

He comes over, making sure you can hear his boots thumping on the old wood. He’s witnessed how dangerous it is for someone to sneak up on you. He takes out his own pole, feigning that he doesn’t have an ulterior motive for being here. 

“Any luck?” he asks. 

“A bit,” you respond, glancing at him. He could swear you smile a bit. 

After a short bout of silence, he rubs his neck nervously, his pole staying still in his other hand. “Hosea mentioned a possible lead in Emerald Ranch. Thought you and I should go take a look.” 

“What’s the job?” 

Crap, he didn’t think you’d ask this question. Most jobs you didn’t ask the nature on, you just went. “Said somethin’ about a train comin’ through, carryin’ some rich folk. I figure we could board at Emerald Station, and as it’s on its way south, we can… take care of the rest.” 

You continue staring out at the lake. “Sounds good. When’s it due?” 

“Couple of days. But maybe you and I could head out early. Pearson was sayin’ he’s gettin’ low on meat.” Another lie, but he hopes you won’t catch on. Besides, Pearson says there’s no such thing as too much meat. Not with how many mouths the gang has to feed right now. When you don’t respond, he goes on. “Heartlands are a great place to go huntin’. Lots of game. Plus, the view is beautiful.” 

“Sure,” you say, collapsing your pole. “We can go hunting. I could use some time away from this place.” 

He hides his smile and then follows you to the horses. You both mount up and head out. It doesn’t take long to reach Emerald Ranch. You both stop there to “scout” the station, though you’re still unaware that he’s lying. He must admit, he’s a little afraid of how you’ll react when you find out there most likely won’t be a train stuffed with rich folk. He knows you won’t kill him, but you’re already so closed off, it might just make you even moreso. 

You walk down the steps of the station, walking towards him as he stands near the horses. “Just talked to the clerk,” you say. “Says a train’s coming that’s heading south in about three days. We’ll have plenty of time to hu- oh, hey kitty.” 

You’re stopped in your tracks by a cat that’s winding its way around your legs. The scrawny tabby looks up at you and gives a cute “brrr”. Arthur watches as a rare smile stretches your face. You bend down and pet the cat, who just rubs over your legs even more in response. You pick it up and it starts rubbing its chin across your cheek. 

“Oh, you’re a sweet one, huh?” you say. Arthur’s never heard you sound so sweet. “Yeah, you’re pretty. Handsome boy like you, you’re a heartbreaker, huh?” 

After a moment, you put the cat down and it walks off, tail pointed straight up. You smile as you watch it walk away. When you look back at Arthur, you see him staring. 

“Sorry. Just… haven’t been able to cuddle a cat in a long time.” You mount up and walk your horse over to the plains of the Heartlands. Arthur watches you go, even more confused. Why is it that when he’s seen a person touch you, you’ve flinched and acted like there was physical pain to it, but when that cat touched you, you willingly accepted and even encouraged it? 

He follows you, his mind reeling even more. 

******************************

That night, you and Arthur make a campfire for the night, several pelts drying under the stars. You reach into your satchel and pull out a thick batch of raspberries to add to dinner as Arthur cooks some meat. He can tell you’re relaxed and content. Now is the best time for him to try and learn more about you. 

“Can I ask ya somethin’?” he says. 

“I suppose,” you say shortly, leaning against a rock. 

“How come you ran away from your family? Most of us who had a proper family left that life because they died.” 

Your hands shuffle a bit in your lap and you stare off into the fire. It takes you a few moments before you answer. “It was just… easier running away than… than staying, I guess.” He waits for you to continue but you don’t. He wishes you’d give more detail. The tone of your voice says you chose your words carefully. 

“You know you can trust me, right?” he says softly. 

You look up at him for a brief second and then look back to the fire. It’s true, you trust Arthur more than the others. Something about his presence has always had more of an impression on you than the others. You don’t respond, but your hands continue to fidget. He knows you’re not going to come out and say things, if he wants to find out more about you, he’s going to have to ask. 

“Why was it easier to run? Did your pa get busted for runnin’ an illegal business or somethin’?” 

You shake your head. “No. No, he ran a legitimate business. He was the sheriff’s deputy, actually. Well respected in our town.” 

“And?” Arthur says after you fall silent again. “And what?” 

“What was he like?” Arthur asks. 

“Why do you care?” you suddenly snap. You’ve never been comfortable with people wanting to know about your life. It’s an alien thing to you, for people to want to know. When you were a kid, people really didn’t like you much. They found you annoying and you tried too much to be like them in order to make friends. In school, the other kids were more than happy to shut you out. 

Your home life wasn’t much better. You were the youngest of four children to your family. Your brother was significantly older and he was a bully to you and your two sisters. Since you were the youngest though, he left you alone a decent amount of time. Your sisters were a different matter. They teased you a lot, and they used to chase you around the ranch with sharp objects because they knew it scared you. It also wasn’t unusual for them to hit you out of the blue. 

Then there were your parents. Your mother was nice, but she criticized you a lot. She didn’t like that you weren’t as social as other kids your age. When you told her it was because the other kids didn’t like you, her response was that you didn’t try enough. She made comments about how she thought you could make yourself look prettier, how you should wear dresses more often. She also held it over your head that you would be married one day, despite you having no interest in anyone in that way. When you admitted you never experienced romantic attraction towards anyone, she simply brushed it off and said “you just haven’t found the right one yet”. 

Your father was the worst of the lot. He never took any interest in you (or any of his kids for that matter). He seemed to hate you the most though. When he’d come home from work angry, he seemed to take it out on you, screaming at you, blaming any irritance he had on you. Perhaps it was because you were the youngest, but a feeling in your gut said that he hated you because he’d wanted another son when your mother was pregnant with you. There were times too he’d become physically violent with you. It didn’t help that whenever you became emotional, he’d get irrationally angry and tell you to go hide in your room, that no one wanted to see your tears. 

All those things combined into one shaped you to distrust people. You hated being touched because when you were a kid, the majority of the times you were touched caused physical pain. You also couldn’t relate your emotions to people and you had become detached from them over the years, to the point you found it extremely difficult to cry. 

You think back on these things as Arthur stares at you. He’d been taken back when you’d practically shouted at him. 

“I… I guess I’m just curious is all,” Arthur responds. 

“Well, don’t be,” you hiss, turning back to the fire. Arthur’s curiosity of you is making you extremely uncomfortable. Why should he be? No one else ever was. You sigh, trying to simmer down. “Sorry, Arthur. It’s just… it’s better for everyone if you don’t worry about me.” 

Arthur stares at you for a moment. He can tell that whatever is making you so closed off is causing you a lot of pain. He feels an urge to get close to you, to try and comfort you, but he knows that might just makes things worse. 

“Sorry,” he says. “Guess that’s just my problem. I worry about most people in camp, except Micah maybe.” He sees you chuckle a bit at this, which is an encouraging sign. “Point is, I am worried about ya, Y/N. I ain’t known anyone like you, and to be honest, I ain’t too sure it’s healthy.” 

You look up at him, your eyes wide. You want nothing more than to tell Arthur about everything, but there’s something preventing you from doing so. All you can think is that he’d find you weak and pathetic if he knew. It’s just better and easier to keep it all bottled up. 

You sigh heavily. You have a feeling he won’t stop asking about why you ditched your family until you gave him a reason. “I… I ran away because my family proved they weren’t worthy of being my family. I… I remember reading a book and a character said ‘family don’t end in blood’. I don’t know why, that just stuck with me. When I realized what it meant, I knew that my parents, my siblings… they weren’t my family. I’ve never had the luxury of having one.” 

You look down at your boots, your chest tightening. You know you’re close to getting choked up and crying, but you can’t do that. You can’t let Arthur see how weak you are. 

He finally looks away. “I’m real sorry about that, Y/N. Families are always complicated. And I’m sorry if you felt like I was pressurin’ ya. It’s just… how many years you been with us? I feel like I don’t know the first thing about ya.” 

You look up at him again. “Why would you want to, Arthur?” 

This question strikes him and he knows exactly why you’re so private. He feels a pang for you as he realizes that no one has ever shown any interest in you, that you’ve always been alone. He knows exactly what he has to do for you to open up. 

“Maybe because you’re worth knowin’,” he says. He sees your breath quicken. Are you scared? He goes on, wanting to make you feel comfortable. “Maybe because no one deserves to be alone their entire lives. I don’t know what happened to make you feel that way, and I ain’t askin’ you to tell me. But I just want ya to know that no matter what you think or feel, I’m here. I’ll listen. I ain’t gonna think less of ya.” 

He can tell you’re listening hard to everything he says, that he’s got your mind turning. 

You swallow, wanting to test his words. “I used to have a cat, you know. When I was a kid. He was a good boy. The best in fact. He… he chose me. We weren’t supposed to keep him, but when my ma saw how much he and I loved each other, she convinced my pa to keep him.” You smile as you recall the things he did, how he made you feel loved and how he made you laugh. You start to get choked up again when you get closer to telling Arthur the end. You don’t notice that he’s carefully scooting closer to you as you talk. 

“What happened to your cat?” Arthur asks softly. 

“He got old,” you say. “He was thirteen and one day, he jumped up into a tree and hurt his leg. After that, he just went downhill. He started limping a lot, and then he… he had a seizure out of the blue. He only lasted four days after that, and he was half paralyzed when he finally….” You find yourself unable to finish the story. Even after all these years, thinking about him still hurts as badly as it did the day he died. “All I can think is that at least I was there with him when he…” 

Arthur’s sitting only a foot from you now. He’s so close he must be able to see the tears in your eyes. You wish he wasn’t. It’s rare for you to have a moment of weakness like this, and it’s been an extremely long time since you had an audience. Pathetic doesn’t even come close to how you feel right now with him being a witness. He must think you’re laughable, weak, pitiful. You hate yourself for it. 

He surprises you when he speaks in an incredibly soft voice. “At least you gave him a good life, and you gave him the comfort of not dyin’ alone.” 

You sniff, a tear finally cascading down your cheek. You turn your head so he can’t see. He feels sorry for you; he’s never seen you this upset and he can tell you’re fighting extremely hard to keep yourself contained. He forgets for a moment about your touch aversion and he puts an arm behind you, trying to comfort you. 

Your response is instant. You immediately flinch and jump out of reach, your eyes wide and hard. He raises his hands up. “Easy, easy. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” 

You blink several times and then sit back down. “Sorry,” you say. “I just… I don’t like being touched.” 

“I know,” he says. “Can I ask why?” 

You swallow heavily. “I just don’t.” 

He sighs, knowing he won’t get any further. He’s okay with that though, you’ve already come a long way tonight. He starts humming a song Uncle often sings and it relaxes you. After a bit, the two of you crawl into your bedrolls for the night, but Arthur stays awake a long time. He thinks about the things you said. He can tell by your behavior you’re crying for help, but you just don’t know how to ask. He wonders how he can help you out, especially with your touch aversion. 

**************************

The next morning, you get up before he does. You had dreams of your cat and you feel ashamed for how you reacted the night before. Thoughts of how miserable you must have seemed to Arthur circle in your head and you can’t handle the guilt. You quickly grab your bow and head off to hunt, determined to take out your emotions in the thrill of stalking a deer or a rabbit. 

An hour passes before you return to camp, carrying a buck’s pelt, your satchel laden with rabbit furs and even a badger. You can see Arthur’s up and you sigh, trying to pull yourself together. His behavior from last night confuses you. The questions he was asking, the looks he gave you, how he tried to touch you. You have to wonder why. You can’t come up with an answer, so you resolve yourself to hiding it all again. 

As you throw the pelt over your horse’s back and start stuffing the smaller skins into the saddlebag, Arthur puts out the fire. 

“I wanted to ask ya somethin’,” he says quietly. 

You pause, scared he might ask something similar to the things he said last night. “Okay,” you say in a weak voice. 

“What do you feel when someone touches you?” he asks. “And I don’t mean physically. What do you feel?” 

You look up at him, your eyes wide again. You don’t know what it is about Arthur, but you find yourself wanting to be honest with him. “I… I don’t know.”

He clasps his hands in front of him and takes a few steps closer to you. “Do you feel afraid? Confused? Repulsed? Angry?” 

“No, just… confused and… worried, I guess.” You plant your back to your horse, crossing your arms over yourself. Arthur notices your defensive position. 

“Can you think of why you feel those things?” he asks. His voice is so soft you almost don’t hear it. 

You shake your head, truly not sure why you feel those things. “I don’t know.” 

“Do you… well, do you hate it?” 

“What do you mean?” you ask. 

“Do you hate that you feel confused and worried?” 

You swallow again and lick your lips. “Yes,” you finally say. “I… I read somewhere that we’re wired to enjoy touch, but I just… I can’t.” 

He stands still for a moment. “Can I try somethin’?” he asks. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya, and if it’s too much, we don’t have to go further.” 

“What is it?” you ask. Your heart’s racing in your chest and you feel the impulse to run. Arthur’s too close, he’s been staring at you too long. 

“Let me see your hand,” he says. He’s determined to voice every step he plans on taking, that way you don’t have to be afraid. When you don’t move, he thinks maybe you’ll deny him. Finally though, you unclench your hand from your shirt and hold it out for him. He can see you’re shaking. 

“I promise, I ain’t gonna hurt ya, and I ain’t gonna think you’re pathetic. Y/N, I just wanna help ya.” He slowly raises his hands and clasps them around yours. His hands are so warm, almost hot, and they’re rough from calluses. He can tell you’re resisting the desire to whip yours out of reach. He keeps his hands still around yours for a moment, and then one finger brushes the top of your finger, leaving a burning trail in its wake. Arthur keeps his eyes on your hands, allowing you to process this. 

After a few moments of him just gently tracing your hand, he speaks up. “Tell me what you feel. Not physically, what do you feel?” 

He can see you’ve settled down, your eyes are softer, your breathing lighter, but you’ve barely blinked since he started this. 

“I don’t know,” you admit quietly. “I feel.... I don’t know.” And it’s true. You don’t know what you feel. You’ve no idea that right now, your brain is releasing oxytocins, making you feel good, but they’re clashing with your adrenaline. It makes for a very odd combination. 

“Does it feel good?” he asks. 

You give him a tense nod and he smiles. “Yeah, I know it does. Touch doesn’t have to mean pain. It’s okay to be touched, and it’s okay to want touch.” 

He lets go of your hand and takes a step back. He decides the best thing to do is to leave you alone so you can process it all; he could tell from the look on your face you need time to think about all this. 

When his back’s to you, you flex your hand. It feels much colder without his around it anymore and your skin tingles from where he rubbed your skin. You feel confused again, but for different reasons than before. You used to feel confused because you couldn’t understand why someone would want to touch you, but now you’re confused because it did feel good. It felt comforting, reassuring. Even more confusing is that you want him to do it again. 

Arthur looks back and sees you haven’t moved an inch. You’re still looking at your hand like you’ve never seen it before. He chuckles softly and mounts his horse. Despite that it’s obvious he’s caused you to have a miniature identity crisis, he finds your signs encouraging. He’ll give you a break, and then maybe later, he’ll try going further. 

It’s only when he’s gone off hunting that you come back to yourself. However, the memory of him just touching your hand causes distraction. You’re not as focused as usual, you miss a lot more often when you manage to find an animal to stalk. At one point, you sit down and try rubbing your own hand, trying to recreate what he did, but it doesn’t work of course. You end up sitting a long time, feeling perplexed about the whole thing. 

Arthur meanwhile finds it sad. He wonders if you’ve ever really felt someone touch you in a positive way. He’s no doubt that your family hurt you and not just physically. The fact that you struggled and even fought with yourself last night to control your emotions screams that somewhere in your life, you were taught to completely bury yourself as a form of protection. Arthur is a private man, he knows how hard it is to open up sometimes. But there are still people he knows he can talk to about his own feelings. John, Hosea, Mary-Beth, he knows he can talk to them. But you don’t seem to be able to do it with anyone. He sighs, knowing there’s a very long road ahead with you, but he’s willing to go down it. You deserve to be helped.

*********************************

That night, when camp is set up again, Arthur sits close to you. He finds it encouraging when you let him. He notices you keep positioning your hand in such a way that if he wanted to take it, he could. Not only that, you keep rubbing it. He definitely gave you a lot to think about. 

“So how you feelin’?” he asks after you’ve both eaten. 

You look over at him. Your eyes say you’re still a little lost. “I’m alright.” 

He smiles and pats your shoulder, only this time, you don’t flinch. “Good. Maybe you can make some progress.” 

He gets up and walks over to his horse, reaching into the saddlebag and pulling out a bottle of rum. He turns around and almost runs into you. 

“What are ya doin’?” he asks. It’s obvious you followed him. 

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. You want to ask him to touch you again, but maybe go further. However, there’s some kind of block that prevents you from doing so. He smiles. 

“You want me to help you again like I did this morning?” he asks. 

Your eyes widen even more. He can see how tiny your pupils are, despite the darkness. You’re nervous again, but he sees your head tip in the tiniest nod. He sets down the bottle slowly. 

“Okay, but I’m gonna go a bit further this time. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” 

“I know,” you say. 

Spurred on by this, he holds his arms out a little and he takes small, slow steps closer to you. Slowly, he wraps them around you, enveloping you in a hug. You tense up until you hear his voice. 

“It’s okay. Not gonna hurt ya, not gonna think badly of ya. Don’t think about what I think. Think about how this feels, okay?” 

He can see how tense your jaw is, you’re clenching your shoulders and your breathing in short, quick bursts. He holds you gently, but he notices you’re not reacting. He lets you go, thinking maybe he moved to this point too quickly. 

“Ah, I’m sorry, Y/N,” he says. “Probably frightened ya.” 

“What…” you start in such a quiet voice he almost doesn’t hear. “What do I do? When you do that.” 

It’s his turn to be confused and then it hits him. You don’t know how to reciprocate touch. 

“It’s easy,” he says. He slowly grabs your hands and stretches your arms in front of you, folding them around his waist. “Just do this, then I put my hands here.” He places his hands on your back. “You can lay your head on me if you want,” he says when he notices how stiffly you’re holding your neck, staring up past his shoulder. 

“You’re not… you’re not gonna be upset?” you ask quietly. 

He knows if he voices how shocked he is by this question you’re going to retreat, so he holds it in. “No, Y/N. I ain’t. You just do whatever feels good, okay?” 

You stand stiff in his arms for a few seconds, your hands clenched to the back of his shirt. Then finally, you lower your head and press your cheek to his chest. You can hear his heart beating, slow and steady, opposite of yours. His hand rubs slowly up your back, flooding you with a soothing sensation. You feel yourself suddenly relaxing in his arms, your stomach and chest loosen up, you slowly let your shoulders down and you press your face into his chest. As you relax, you’re able to wrap your arms further around him. His body’s firm and he’s warm, God he is warm. He shifts a bit and then you feel his cheek press down on your head. 

A swarm of emotions suddenly slams into your chest. You’ve never felt like this before, so comfortable and protected. You can’t remember the last time you felt this safe. You suddenly realize how lonely you’ve been all these years, and how much you’ve secretly craved something like this. Your chest tightens again and before you can stop yourself, you’re suddenly crying into Arthur’s shirt. You wait for him to pull away, to be disgusted by you, but he doesn’t. His arms tighten further around you, one hand comes up and cradles your head to his chest. 

Perhaps you imagine it while what feels like every pent up emotion escapes from your body, but you swear you feel Arthur’s lips on your forehead as you sob. Maybe you just wish you felt him do that, it’s not entirely clear if it really happened. 

When you’ve finally lost the ability to cry anymore (your body just can’t seem to produce another tear), you pull away slightly to see the mess you’ve made on Arthur’s shirt. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, wiping your eyes dry. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he says gently, his arms still around you. He suddenly smiles. “I never knew someone so tough could be so-” 

“Pathetic?” you say. 

He tilts his head to the side a bit. “Passionate. You got a lot of feelin’s swirling around in ya, I bet ya didn’t even know about some of ‘em.” 

You blush and look down at his shirt again. 

“Point is,” he continues, “it’s okay to feel them, to let yourself feel. It ain’t healthy and it ain’t weak to let yourself be vulnerable once in a while. You’ll find that you’re able to stand stronger when ya do.” 

Your hands clench his shirt a bit. This isn’t right. Arthur shouldn’t be comforting you, the two of you should be settling down to sleep right now. 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” you say, your voice squeaking. 

He lets out a long sigh. “Because you deserve it, Y/N. Because it ain’t fair to you for everyone to expect you to always be strong and stoic. You deserve to be allowed to be vulnerable. I don’t know who taught you that showing it when you’re upset is a bad thing, but it ain’t.” 

One of his hands comes up and brushes your cheek, wiping it dry. You feel yourself trusting him and get a sudden desire to spill all your secrets to this man. You can’t look away from his lips either. How strange it is that Arthur Morgan, the toughest man you’ve ever met, with a temper so easily flared, is teaching you the importance of being weak every once in a while? 

You press your face back into his chest, your forehead settling against his neck. His arms tighten around you again, his right hand settled between your shoulder blades. You relax even more, to the point you acknowledge his scent. Leather, tobacco leaves, gunpowder and sage. God, he smells good. 

You don’t know how long you stay in his arms, but you’re so comfortable and feel so safe you feel your eyes drooping. He must be able to tell too, because he pats your shoulder. 

“Let’s get some sleep, hmm? I know you’re exhausted.” 

You nod. You surprise even yourself when you move your bedroll next to his, but then feel worried that you might be encroaching on his personal space too much. You look up at him and he smiles. 

“You can sleep next to me if ya want. I don’t mind.” 

For the first time, you smile back at him. When he’s settled in his roll, lying on his back, you curl up against him, your head settling on his chest. Arthur brushes your hair, his fingers trailing down your back. His other hand settles over yours, which rests on his stomach. 

After a while, you look up at him. “Arthur?” 

“Hmm?” His eyes find yours. 

“Thank you. I know I… I still have a long road to recovery, but thank you. I wouldn’t have known how much help I needed unless you showed me.” 

He smiles and then his lips press against your forehead. “You’re welcome, darlin’.”

You settle down back onto him, his heat seeping up into you. When you were young, you imagined doing this with a man you love, but never once did you think it could feel this good. Then it hits you. You love Arthur. There’s no denying it. You wouldn’t have let him even hold your hand if you didn’t. The thought both scares and intrigues you, but you have a prodding in your gut that says he must feel something too. As you lie in his arms, you wonder where he might take you tomorrow. 

[willow-salix]

Isolation update and this one is just for @gumnut-logic who needs the giggles right now. Enjoy!

Day 82 of Isolation on Tracy Island and we were all sitting by the pool, enjoying the peace and quiet when it was shattered by Alan who came running past like a whirlwind, screaming his head off.

Scott jolted out of his doze, sitting bolt upright. “Wha? Al? Wass up?”

“Virgil’s dead!”

That got our attention even more than the screaming.

“What?” John was on his feet in an instant and caught Alan by the shoulder as he started another lap of the poolside, racing back past us in the opposite direction. “Alan, just stop a second and tell us what’s wrong?”

Alan was panting, trying to catch his breath. “Virg...he...hangar...floor...dead!” he huffed, doubling over, hands on his knees as he struggled to suck air into his lungs.

Scott shot John a look and the two of them took off at a run, leaving me to drag Alan along behind them.

We skidded to a halt in the hangar, taking in the scene before us. Virgil was indeed laying flat out on the floor, eyes closed, not moving, covered in something dark and red…

“Virgil!” Scott yelled, rushing over, John following.

“I poked him already!” Alan told them. “I kicked him too.”

“You kicked him?” I facepalmed so hard I almost knocked myself out. “You thought your brother was dead so your answer to that was to poke him and kick him!”

“Well, I didn’t want to touch him if he was dead, that’s gross.”

“Virgil!”

“Will you guys shut up! I’m not dead but I wish I was so just leave me here to die in peace, will you?”

“Oh, thank God,” Scott groaned. “What happened? Why are you covered in...whatever that is?”

“It’s paint,” Virgil answered, still not moving. “I was touching up the paintwork on the left engine and I turned awkwardly and fell.”

“Anything broken?” Scott immediately went into fix it mode.

“No, not that I can tell.”

“Then why are you still on the floor?”

“And more importantly, why didn't you stop Alan from kicking you?" I asked.

“Because I can’t move.”

“What? John, get the med-scanner, now!”

“No! I don’t need that. I’m just going to stay here for a while, OK? It’s actually quite comfy.”

“Virgil, you just said you can’t move, in medical circles that’s generally considered to be a bad thing,” John pointed out.

Virgil nodded and lifted his head from the floor. “OK, I’m gonna try…” he attempted to sit up, stopping midway, a pained groan escaping him.

“Are you alright?” I asked, kneeling down beside him, avoiding the majority of the paint.

“Virg, you just said you weren’t hurt when you fell!” Scott yelled.

“I wasn’t,”Virgil insisted, though he wouldn't look at us.

“Virgil…” Scott’s tone dared him to continue to lie.

“I may have hurt my back before I fell and now I can’t move at all, it’s seized up.”

“You made me think you were dead because you hurt your back like an old man?” Alan yelled, kicking Virgil’s leg again.

“Hey! Stop kicking me!”

“Urghh, boys…” I groaned, rolling my eyes so far back I think I saw my brain, it’s larger than I expected, maybe there’s hope for me yet.

I supervised the lifting and extraction of the Virg from the hangar floor and the carrying of said brother, with much groaning all around, Virgil from the pain and the boys from the weight of carrying their chonky ass brother.

Scott and John were charged with getting him into the bathroom to wash the paint off him. I waited outside just in case they needed help, not that there was much I could do. I sat on his bed, fished my phone out of my pocket and prepared for a boring wait. I could not have been more wrong.

“At least try to stand on your own!”

“I can’t.”

“Just duck your head a little so I can get your vest off.”

“I can’t bend, John!”

“FIne, I’ll cut it off you.”

“You will cut my flannel over my cold, dead body!”

“You already died once today, congratulations, now shut up and hold still.”

“I am not touching the jeans, you’re on your own there.”

“Do you guys need a hand?” I called out.

“NO!” all three choroused at once.

I shrugged, I was only trying to be helpful.

“It’s no good, I can’t get them down.”

“Scott, you’re the oldest, you do it.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Can we not argue about who is going to pull my pants down?”

“Fine, I’ll do it!”

I heard a yank and the sound of someone stumbling and another pained grunt from Virgil. Everything was silent for a moment or two and I actually worried that one of them might have accidentally killed the other but then I heard the shower turn on.

“I’m turning around now…”

“I don’t care, I’m covering my eyes because neither front or back is a view I want embedded in my memory.”

I sniggered to myself, my poor boy did not sound happy to be in there.

“Virg, be careful, hold on to something,” I heard Scott warn.

“Not me!” John yelped and I heard another scuffle followed by a horrified yell. “Get that away from me!”

The door crashed open and I heard Virgil gasp in shock before Scott slammed the door closed.

“I’m not going back in there,” John declared. “He’s all…” he waved a hand vaguely that was obviously supposed to represent something but I have no idea what. “I don’t even want to think about it,” he finished, shuddering in horror.

“Aww, poor love,” I opened my arms and he collapsed forward, his forehead hitting my shoulder with a clunk.

“How’s he doing?”

“His back isn’t bending at all, so he’s shuffling around like he’s ninety years old, I expect he’ll soon be yelling at Alan to get off the lawn,” his voice was muffled against my shoulder. I couldn't help but laugh, John always managed to say the funniest things with total deadpan humour.

I patted his back and let go. “You stay here and help if needed, I’m gonna go and get him my back stretcher, that might help.”

***

By the time I returned with my back stretcher, a curved piece of hard plastic that was padded to fit the bend of your lower back and can help release tension in your back muscles, Virgil was flat out on his bed and still groaning pathetically.

I laid the stretcher on the floor and drafted in reinforcements.

“Help me get him up and on the floor,” I instructed.

They didn't look too impressed with the idea but stepped up in the end.

With much huffing, puffing and swearing we managed to roll Virgil off the bed and onto his knees (I put a pillow down for him to land on) and then got him to roll onto his butt until he was sitting up.

I got John to make sure the stretcher was in place and then came the hard part.

“You’re gonna have to straddle him,” I told Scott.

“What? No! Why?”

“No one is straddling me!”

“Yes, they are, because you need to keep your arms straight as well as your back and you need to be lowered slowly,” I answered.

“I can lower myself, thank you very much.”

“Go on then.”

“Now?”

“Yep,” my hands went to my hips in the universally known ‘don’t test me, boy’ gesture.

“I don’t feel like it right now, I’ll do it later.”

“You’ll do it right now, Mr Tracy, now lay the hell down!” I was fast losing patience with these idiots today. Honestly, why can’t they be more like girls? We don’t care about anything, girls will get changed in the same room as someone they have known for five minutes because they can’t be bothered to stop chatting. Boys just make such a big deal out of everything.

“Fine, I’ll lay down.”

He lowered about half an inch before his face creased in pain and he began to sweat. I watched him grit his teeth and lean back a little further, his arms straight out in front of him like Dracula rising from his coffin.

“Dude, just give in.”

“Never!”

He squeaked out another inch, his shoulders shaking, stomach twitching as he tried to bully his abs into keeping him stable.

“Core strength, core strength,” I heard him chant.

“Urghh, you’re all so stubborn,” I stepped over him, straddling his legs and grabbed his hands. “Lean back, I got you.”

Slowly, carefully, edging forward one step at a time, I lowered him backwards.

“Keep your arms straight,” I reminded him as his lower spine hit the stretcher. He hovered there, arms stuck out straight in the air.

“What’s going on?” Gordon and Alan asked, picking the worst moment to wander in, stopping in their tracks to find me standing over their brother while Scott and John watched from their spot on the bed.

“I’m helping.”

“With a torture device?” Gordon didn’t sound convinced.

“Shh you!” I ordered.

I had reached Virgil’s chest and couldn't go further with his arms in the way so had to do a quick move, keeping his arms in place with one hand and twisting so I could move in front of them, stepping over his chest. I was very grateful I'd chosen to wear leggings this morning and so was Virgil.

“OK, going backwards,” I lowered him a bit further, holding his not inconsiderable upper bulk up by his arms, now slightly worried about the state of my own back after hefting this hulk around. I got his back against the back stretcher and checked that his spine was lined up properly.

“OK, do you trust me?”

“Not when you ask that!”

I flicked his forehead. “Tough, I’m doing it anyway. Deep breath.”

“What? Why? What are you do-” I stepped back and lowered his arms, bringing them down to the floor above his head.

His back let out a loud crack in protest, the sound echoing around the room like a gunshot. Virgil yelped, the other boys cringed.

“You just broke his back!” Alan gasped. I gave him a look that said I’d break him next. He wisely shut up.

“Don’t be a baby,” I told Virgil and pushed down on his shoulders. His back cracked again and he groaned.

“There, better?” I let go of his arms and let him relax a little more. His back popped one more time and this time it was more of a moan of relief than a groan of pain that escapes him. He gave an experimental wiggle and looked surprised when he could actually move.

I moved round to his front again and helped him sit up.

“That actually does feel better,” he acknowledged. He managed to lower himself back down all by himself and stretched out, his tight muscles and ligaments easing with the pressure.

“I want to try that,” Scott announced, I couldn't blame him, it's really quite satisfying. We helped Virgil off the floor, and while he took an experimental lap around his room, still a little slow and shuffly but no longer shambling like he'd just risen from the dead and wanted to eat our brains (not that he’d find much nourishment in this room) Scott got down on the floor.

Everyone but John (he'd used it before) tried out my back stretcher. Gordon and Scott declared that they needed one but Alan didn’t like it.

“That’s because you’re too young to have ever had back ache,” I told him. “You don’t know what it’s like to wake up and feel like your back won't bend the right way.”

I glanced down at the floor to find Scott still stretched out, eyes closed, so relaxed I think I actually heard him snore.

“Get up,” I nudged him with my foot. “I’m leaving that for Virgil to use for the next few days.”

Scott grumbled but did get up, casting a longing glance at my back stretcher on the floor.

“I’ll come back for you,” he promised it. I rolled my eyes.

“Could you all get out of my room now?” Virgil asked, eyeing his bed longingly.

I grabbed the boys by the shoulders and propelled them out the door with the promise of cooking before Grandma got there.

I swear, these boys need a minder, I can’t leave them alone for a second.

The last sound we heard was the heavy thud of Virgil landing on his bed. I doubt very much we'll see him for the foreseeable future, I guess he's getting dinner delivered today.

[jay-and-dean]

Rescue You  Chapter 13 : December 5 and 6

Dean x reader

Summary : My name is Y/n. I’m the outcast of my witch community. This is the story of how I rescued Dean Winchester, the story of how he saved me.

Serie Warnings : Swearing. Injuries. Smut. Fluff. Angst.

Chapter warning : Smut, unprotected sex (be smart)  fluff, violence, death, blood, swearing I think, I always swear...

Words : .13 k

Author note : Next AND last chapter next wednesday

***Rescue You Masterlist***

***Want to read more ? => MASTERLIST***

__________________________

December 5, 10:28pm

             Before Aiden reaches the ground, I’m at Dean’s feet.

           Time has stopped.

           My heart too.

“Dean…” I call and Sam gets up. “Dean, baby” he coughs, blood reddening his teeth. “Baby, I need you. I need you, please !”

My voice breaks and my forehead falls on his.

“Y-you’re free…” he pants, my tears falling on his chin.

My hands search the wound in the sea of blood on his chest, struggling with the layers of clothes he’s wearing. The bullet hit his lungs, there is nothing I can do. Nothing. Even if I could stop the bleeding, he would drown in his own blood.

“Castiel…” I hear Sam say but my baby is having trouble breathing already so I don’t really listen.

Blood is escaping his mouths. His hand comes weakly to my cheek and wipes a tear, he falls back.

“DEAN !” I scream, trying to hold him back but his head loudly hits the floor. “No nononono… Baby you can’t leave me. You can’t… I can’t…”

“I l-love you…” he says in a groan of effort. “I’m so proud of you…”

           My wolf is dying. My hunter have been hunted down. And there is nothing I can do. I should have been stronger, I should have had power. Useless. Weak. I should have been able to handle these powers, then I could do something.

“Dean !” Sam calls from behind me.

I hear gunshots and screams, but they seem so far away.

“Dean ! Please, hold on a little longer !” Sam shouts.

           I bend on my love, my hands still totally bathing on his blood. If he doesn’t make it, if my Dean dies and there is nothing left… I have to tell him I love him, but saying goodbye…

“Dean. Baby… Stay with me just a little longer. I-I know you feel like you can’t but remember in the forest baby… You couldn’t get up.” His eyes struggle to focus on me, and even in the horrible pain he’s feeling, at the doors of death, he smiles at me. “And you did. Remember… You’re my hero Dean. I love you more than words can express.”

           He doesn’t answer, he can’t. A tear rolls down his face and he closes his eyes.

“No !Baby !Dean ! Stay with me !” I cry out.

Once again my wolf shows how strong he his. His eyes open again and search mine, but he barely breathes now, red threatening blood overflowing his mouth, and the grim smell of it replacing my love’s skin’s.

           My hand finds his heart and I can feel it beating, weak but still there, struggling under my touch. His eyes close again and I know I can’t ask him to be strong this time.

“Please please please…” I sob, focusing on the discreet beating of his heart. “I’m here baby. I won’t go anywhere. I’m here…”

           I close my eyes too, and put my forehead back on his, leaning over him, I feel my lungs suffer with his.

“I’m so sorry…” I wail.

“Dean ! Hold on !” Sam orders.

“AAAAAAAAAH !” I suddenly cry out, the rage of an entire life coming out of me.

A scream so harrowing, I hope it could scare Death itself… My head is dizzy, and a despair so brutal hits me, that I fall totally, not able to hold my body, not able to think. Everything becomes black then a white kind of black.

 Nothing…

Nothing…

Nothing.

             Something painfully grabs me out of my lethargy. Big hands grabbing my shoulders, to tear me apart from the man I love. I can’t be away from him. I promised. I will stay there. So I fight the hands but they are stronger, wau too strong for me, I scream and cry, until the hands crush my head against a chest, and I hear a beating heart.

“Y/n…” I recognize Sam’s voice. “Cas is here.”

And just like that, I open my eyes. The light hits me and makes me frown, I need to see my boyfriend, but Sam’s strong hands hold me too firmly to let me turn my head to Dean. So I just stop to move, waiting to know if my life is over, or if my love is coming back to me.

           Suddenly, Sam’s embrace loosens and my world crashes down. Is he dead ? I can’t… Until I feel it.

His hand.

His.

I turn and my Dean is sitting behind me.

“Let me take care of her” he murmurs like almost dying was nothing to him, and opens his arms to me.

He’s as new. No dark red stain and no hole in his chest. Me being still covered in his blood is the only witness of what just happened. I hesitate, not really able to think clear right now.

“Come here Y/n” he just says and I fall in his arms, sobbing and clinging to him, shaking, my breath short and painful.

“A few seconds later, Dean. You would be dead” Castiel groans. “Everything was shutting down but your heart was still struggling to beat, I have never seen such a will to survive.”

I look up to see his face and he smiles at me.

“I wasn’t ready to let my Y/n go” he whispers, putting a kiss on my head. “You should have seen me trying to fight the Reaper.”

A shiver goes up my spine. His smell is back and I keep sobbing, my hand clumsily searching for his heart. It’s beating so strongly now.

“Dean, we have a problem” his brother grunts, hiding the tears of relief from his own voice.

 December 5, 11:33.

             Dean’s fingers are intertwined with mine when he opens the door of the dungeon, Sam behind us.

           When they see us, my mother’s and sister’s eyes widen. I can imagine how scary we look… My wolf, tall and stronger than ever, back from the dead and perfectly clean of any sign of struggle, a gun at his waist. Holding hand with me : His queen, baptized in his blood from my hair to my knees, born a new me, with no roots and radiating love.

           They are tied up and begging me with their eyes.

“Where is Ophelia ?” I ask.

“I killed her” Sam states, crossing his arms.

“But those two are your family baby” Dean finishes.

“I have no family” I shake my head and my mom starts crying.

“Y/n… Y/n… Please, don’t throw us to the hunters, they’re cruel, you know that, Treasure” she tries and I wince at the nickname, my dad used to call me like that, before they sentenced him just for loving his little girl. “We will disappear… Y/n just let us go, we will go to Europe and…”

“You pulled the trigger” I cut her, her eyes widen. “You tried to killed the man I love. You’re officially a murderer monster. You know what my baby does to them ?”

“Y/n ! Listen to yourself ! You sound crazy !” my sister cries. “He manipulated you !”

“He actually is the only person that never did it, sis. Well, with dad… Is it true you told them dad hit you ? Or that Aiden tried to hit on you, because I was just a pity fuck…”

“Y/n…”

“I knew everything. I could listen because no one payed attention to me…”

“I should have killed you when I could” she grunts.

I take a deep breath and look at them, I feel nothing anymore, the rage is gone now, because in the end I’m loved and strong.

“Do your thing, baby” I state.

But Dean turns his head to me in hesitation.

“Are you sure…”

He’s right, I don’t want him to do it.

           In a sharp movement, I take the gun at my lover’s waist and point it to my mother’s head without a shake of my hand.

Boom… Boom.

 December 6, 00:03

             I enter Dean’s room and think of Sam and Castiel taking the bodies outside, my family’s body… Then I think of Dean’s lifeless face and start to shake. My hands and clothes are covered in blood, the hair on the side of my face too.

           Still struggling to recover from my lover’s almost death and my body’s reaction from the loss of powers, I sigh, enjoying the silence in my head.

“Let me take that off” Dean says low behind me, taking my jacket to make it fall on the floor, leaving me in my tank top.

           His lips graze my dirty neck and a deep wolf growl passes his lips. He bites my shoulder, probably tasting his own blood a little.

“You’re so strong” he groans. “So fierce…”

His hands grab my waist and I let my head fall back to give him full access to my throat. He licks it before his teeth graze my pulse point. I can feel his fingers digging a little too strongly at my sides, but now I can finally let my wolf eat me alive, I’m ready to take it all.

“Aiden wanted you” he says with another low growl. “But even killing me wouldn’t have bring you to him,right ?”

“Damn right baby” I feel a smile born on the corner of my lips.

“Because no one can have you…” he bites my jaw.

“No one is enough” I bite my lower lip.

“Only me…”

“You’re way more than that” I whisper, leaning back on him.

“I love you like crazy” he grunts. “I’m a psycho when it comes to you.”

I chuckle, thinking of how crazy we might actually look, him leaving jealousy bites on my covered-in-blood skin.

“You know how much I have been craving” I murmur.

“You’re done craving baby” Dean promises, his hands coming up to grab my boobs. “Tell me what you need.”

I smile wide and get on my tiptoes to rub my ass in circles on his crotch, he groans, and one of his palm goes up again, grabbing my throat both possessively and tenderly.

“I want everything… Lazy kisses in the morning, tender foreplays in the shower…” while I talk, he hums, his lips grazing behind my ear. “I want the quick sex in the bathroom at parties when we can’t wait, I want to caress you under a table…”

“Hum… I want that too” he whispers, his teeth grabbing my earlobe.

“I want to do that thing you did to me again…”

“When I ate you out baby ?” he’s so hard now.

“Yes… And do that thing to you again. I want sweet love making in our bed and I want you to teach me everything about your body and your desires…”

“Yes” he groans joining my movement to rub himself against me.

“But right now, Dean, I want to feel my tough wolf” my tone is like a provocation.

           My boyfriend takes me by the waist roughly and carries me from behind, throwing me, face against the mattress, on the bed after three steps.

           The second I touch the sheets, soiling them with dry blood, he’s on me. His large body on top of mine, heavy arms digging in the mattress on both sides of my head. He groans, and his still covered crotch meets my ass in a rough thrust.

           I lick my lips, closing my eyes at the overwhelming feeling of his strength, radiating of him. He doesn’t stop biting me, his sharp white teeth digging in my shoulders, neck, back… Like he wanted to actually eat me.

“I love you so much…” I whine when his hard bulge pushes against my jeans.

           One of his rough hands takes my tank top off, without even turning me toward him, and unclips my bras ; when he tugs on it, it scratches my nipples, making me gasp.

           His mouth is on my back again, he bites and licks along my spine with animalistic groans. I’m soaked. My walls fluttering around nothing at how needy I am. Dean, my Dean finally !

           When his mouth reaches my belt, I lift my arms to grab the wooden headboard. He tugs at my pants, taking my panties in his way.

“Look at you…” he whispers under a growl.

And a sharp bite on my left ass cheek makes me cry out.

“You and your teeth !” I whine, both at the delicious pain, and at the horrible need.

“You wanted a wolf, baby…” he states, half licking half kissing the dimples on my lower back.

           When his fingers slip between my thighs, I involuntarily contract them, and squeeze the headboard hard.

“Yes… Insanely wet, just like I wanted you” he groans again before biting my side, catching the delicate skin on my ribs.

           Then I lose his contact for a second, hearing his belt and feeling him move, his knees on both sides of my thighs.

           His hand roughly turn me, making me let go the headboard brutally. He’s naked, tall and impressive, kneeling on top of me. My hands try to reach him but I can only touch his thighs.

“Spread your legs for me baby” he says.

I struggle a little to do it because he doesn’t move, caging me. But when my knees finally land on his waist, my legs are open wide for him, blocked by his slightly part massive thighs.

“Say you love me” he orders and I smile.

“More than anything”

“No one will ever come between us again or threaten you… I could murder hundreds to have you just like this” he groans, his thumbs grazing my folds.

“Dean…” I plead.

           He grabs my waist and sits on his ankles. My head falling back, I brace myself, grabbing my breasts in anticipation.

“My love… Look at you” he murmurs, lining himself with my entrance.

           After wetting his twitching length on my juice, he pushes slowly in and I moan, my back already arching for him, my mouth opening in silence. Shallow thrusts work me open, and the feeling of him finally inside of me makes me see stars.

           When he bottoms out, it’s by thrusting, but also by strongly impaling me on him with his strong arms. I cry out, finally thrilled, finally full.

           He starts thrusting and his groans become growls, his fingers digging in my hips. My hands join his on my sides and my legs spread even wider for him. I want him to see and feel that I’m totally his.

“You’re…” he pants. “So beautiful.”

           Each thrust is more powerful than the last ; each time he hits my sweet spot sends me closer to ecstasy. I pant, whine, moan, grunt and beg, not controlling my mouth anymore. My wolf is becoming rough, unleashing that beast inside him, that pure energy I have only seen during battle or survival. When I manage to look at him-my nails digging in his knuckles- and see the sweat on his face, neck and chest, his jaw clench and his beautiful expression of pure animality, it sends me off the edge.

           I cry out, half sitting to catch him and he lets his huge body fall on me, his elbow preventing him from crushing me. He bites the side of my left breast and I can feel him throbbing hard inside of me, even through my own clenching.

“Y/n… Fuck Y/n…” he groans a little higher than usual.

After a few more desperately hard thrusts, he empties himself in me, moaning with a hoarse voice. I feel a relief send electricity to each of my nerves, like I needed him to cum inside me to finally be whole again.

           My hands try to bring him to me but he’s too heavy and I’m too weak, still shaking in my own bliss.

“Dean…” I plead and he gets the hint.

Stretching his legs back he finally lies on me, catching my lips in a passionate kiss. I can feel his heart beating like crazy against mine.

           He only withdraws when our panting calms, making me whine a little at the loss ; he lets his soft cock rest on my thigh, and stays as close as possible. My fingers are in his sweaty hair and my lips can’t get enough of him.

“I love you” he says tenderly.

“Thank you for fighting so hard…” I whisper, searching his eyes, suddenly emotional.

“There is no way I can leave you Y/n” his lips find me again.

           I take a deep breath and feel the calm. No rage, no fear, just the exquisite tickle of his cum dripping out of me.

           He caresses my face, and the rough of his hands becomes loving and sweet, his thumb skimming my swollen lips.

“No one is ever going to hurt you again” he whispers. “Or touch you for that matters…”

“Touch me ?” I smile, kissing his finger.

He lowers his eyes a little, gently rubbing his nose on my jaw.

“Yeah well Aiden made me a little jealous…”

“Jealous ?” I can’t help but grin a little, not knowing why the idea of my Dean being jealous turns me on so deliciously. “Dean, I literally killed the guy. There is like zero reason to be jealous…”

I rub his neck tenderly, and make him look up with my chin. When his loving bright eyes meet mine, my heart grows twice its size, and I wrap my legs slowly around him.

“He just had you… Y/n… I have never been in love like that, it just makes me a little dumb. Knowing you were ready to marry him… I don’t know” he apologizes. “I’m not usually like this.”

I hush him and kiss his plumb perfect lips.

“Dean, at some point in my life, he was my only way-out of my family but… Love… Love is only you. I’m glad they asked me to kill you, baby” I chuckle slightly.

“Well you did the exact opposite” he says seriously, sending warm shivers down my spine. “You saved me… In so many ways.”

I kiss his neck and jaw, humming at the feeling of his soft cock hardening slowly on my thigh just with love words and cuddles. His palms roam my body tenderly, and his tongue invades my mouth.

“You remember that sweet love making proposition you made ?” he mumbles between kisses.

“Yes ?”

His hips wiggle, finding their way to position him at my entrance with the help of his hand. His lips never let go of mine.

“Can I suggest we start now ?” he says slowly pushing just the tip in.

“And never stop…” I smile, my arms grabbing his shoulders to never let go.

__________________________________

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[theaviskullguy]

like the lazy ass i am, instead of writing it normally have a post about my danganronpa au

Characters

Goggles Montoya- Ultimate Lucky student

Rider Clark- Ultimate Fighter

Army Vallaha-Williams- Ultimate Actor

Forge Vallaha-Williams- Ultimate Solider

Aloha Palliah- Ultimate Dancer

Diver Vauge- Ultimate Swimmer

Mask Kane- Ultimate Hacker

Skull Beryl- Ultimate Archer

Aviators Jones- Ultimate Baker

Gloves Elaris- Ultimate Gymnast

Emperor Castilo- Ultimate King

Prince Castilo- Ultimate Mage

Niki Pacer (N-Pacer)-Ultimate nurse

Eging Jr- Ultimate speedster

Vintage Auclare- Ultimate Detective

one short of a full dangan cast but shut

I’ll be doing two chapters per post, so here’s part 1!

Executions will be represented by chunks of bold text. Most of these are incredibly gruesome, so I’d advise you skip them if you’re sensitive to that stuff!!!

Also, obviously trigger warnings for blood/ink, death, 

Prologue: Rainy day mystery

It’s nothing too big, honestly. Really, there’s a gala inviting some of Inkopolis’ greatest fighters to this really swanky hotel. A rain storm comes and basically locks them in, causing the gang to have to stay the night in suites that seem to have been tailored to them specifically. The next day the rain has stopped, but everything is still locked. There’s no way in or out of the Hotel. At noon, they’re called to the ballroom and BOOM. There’s Monokuma.

Our favorite half and half bear explains that, the reason this gang in specific was invited was because all of them were prodigies in their fields other than Turf Wars/Ranked (i.e, Army is a god-tier actor, and Vintage's record for fastest case solved was 30 seconds), and from now on that would be their “Ultimate”. Monokuma also revealed that, the only way to escape the Hotel is to get away with murder. (and also the other rules)

And y’know how SDR2 had Monomi/Usami, and DR3 had the Monokubs? This edition has the Monosquids! Basically, every time someone dies, a Monosquid would be created with that person’s personality and some brief memories. In a sense, they ARE the deceased group members, in a mechanical/plush form. Also, Monokuma explains them as the souls of the dead reanimated. They appear the day after a trial, and all seem to hate Monokuma. And with the exception of the two murders that were accidents, almost all the victims hate their killer.

They also still have Ultimate labs kinda-each of their rooms, as stated before, are tailored to double as their lab. For instance, Mask’s room has a lot of tech gear, N-Pacer has a place she can study, Emperor’s just has a fucking throne...yeah.

Chapter 1- The line of Light and Darkness is thin (daily life)

As we check in on our gang in the morning, we learn multiple things. One, most-to-all contact to the outside world has been cut off; Mask can access the internet and all of that, but he can’t post on any forums or play any online games, even with his hacking. Prince can’t tap into his mental link with Regent or...really anyone. Two, that there’s plenty of weapons and other things for murder in multiple labs, and around the Hotel in general.

And three, Monokuma has a motive.

The first motive is simple; If you are to get away with murder, you can take one person with you, but they cannot be the one who the class votes in the class trial. Enticing, since multiple couples are present (Emperor and Gloves, for example), but the gang has made a collective decision to try to ignore it. Well, mostly.

This motive ate at someone, driving them absolutely mad. They COULD NOT stand being trapped in the hotel, they needed out!

So, a few mornings after the motive was introduced, Rider takes notice at the breakfast meeting that...well, someone’s missing.

The group splits up, searching the hotel top to bottom. Until, at last, a high shriek pierces the area, and a dreary announcement is played.

Ding dong, dong ding!

“A body has been discovered!”

Chapter 1- The line of Light and Darkness is thin (Deadly life)

The gang rushes to the scream. It would seem Army found the body.

Curled up in a fetal position, arm still clutched around his wound, Prince lays motionless on the floor of his room. Yellow ink stains the area, and a knife stained with the same liquid sits on the floor next to him.

Emperor is near hysterics. He doesn’t even try to hide his tears. Gloves takes him away from the scene, resolving to comfort their lover in their room during the investigation.

Speaking of investigation, Vintage steps up to the plate. Being the Ultimate Detective, he takes to the scene like a fish in water. He questions everyone, and searches through Prince’s room top to bottom.

By the time of the trial, there wasn’t a stone unturned in the hotel. It was almost...scary, how well Vintage seemed to be handling this.

During the trial, Vintage revealed three main suspects.

First, there was Aloha. The dancer had indeed got up in the middle of the night-he had been sharing a room with Army, and the actor confirmed it-to use the bathroom and get himself a drink of water. He passed by the kitchen, and thought he saw a knife on the rack missing. He got up at 11:25 P.M and returned to bed at 11:30. Once again, Army confirmed his alibi for this.

Second, was Aviators. Avi couldn’t sleep as well, so he spent most of the night walking through the hotel, exploring it. He did take a knife, but only in the case if he needed to defend himself. He had gotten out of bed at 10:50, took the knife somewhere at around 11, and returned it when he was heading back to his bed, at 5:00 AM.

And the third was Rider. Sure, the fighter was close friends with Prince, but it was still suspicious; Rider was reportedly awake at 2:00 AM, and got himself a quick snack before simply training in his room. He did hear someone return to their room at around 5:00, but didn’t go check. Looking back, he suspects it was just Avi.

So this was a game of alibis, and luck. Multiple suggestions were made; maybe Aloha took the knife and murdered Prince, washed his hands in the mage’s bathroom, and returned to bed. That was shot down, since the rooms don’t have running water at night (10:00 PM to 7:00 AM. Normal DR stuff), only the bathrooms in the hotel itself, and the kitchen.

Another was that Rider had taken the knife, but that was also shut down seeing as the period he was awake at wouldn’t line up with Aloha seeing the knife missing.

The third and final one was that Aviators had taken the knife, murdered Prince, and wait for a time when Rider wouldn’t hear him to return to his own room. This one... the only argument against it was that Rider would probably had still heard it. That counterclaim was shut down when Rider said he was taking a short rest when he heard the noise, and then went back to training-practicing hits on a punching bag. 

So, after a final vote, Aviators was voted as the blackened. Luckily correctly, but it was much to Skull’s horror. Aviators was seen as a father figure to the S5 (It made sense, with Skull being the mother figure), and he had killed Prince in cold blood. and it didn’t help that Avi said he was planning on using the motive to escape with Skull. 

And so, Aviators was dragged off to his execution. RIP big man

Ultimate delight-Ultimate Baker Aviator Jones’ execution executed.

Avi is dragged by a chain around his neck towards his death, located in...a giant oven? He’s strapped down to a cake pan, and the heat turns up.

And up...and up...and up.

Aviators is sweating bullets in the oven, strapped down to this hot pan and in a satin jacket, there’s nothing he can do except grit his teeth and bare it.

Except he can’t. 

His head is pounding and he feels incredibly dizzy. He manages to sit up a little in his restraints as he vomits.

And, it would seem, Heatstroke got him. For after a few more minutes of struggling to escape...Aviators fell still.

The first execution of the killing game was a gruesome one.

----

Chapter 2-The butterfly effect (Daily life)

The gang gathered in the dining hall again. Though, both Skull and Emperor were in grief, and everyone was still shaken up from that execution. 

This is when Monokuma introduced the Monosquids.

Two robot like things-one purple and one yellow-shaped like baby inklings-appeared. The yellow one ran and hid behind Emperor, shaking, and the purple one only hugged Skull’s leg.

Monokuma explained their deal; They can’t talk, but they are essentially the spirits of the deceased in a more robotic form. So, naturally, Emperor just hugged Prince tightly, still in grief

Monokuma also explained the next motive. This one being taken straight from DR1; Secrets!

Everyone had a slip of paper with a secret of theirs on it. If no one died in the next day, these secrets will be revealed to the world.

So yeah some people didn’t want those secrets to be revealed, but that doesn’t mean they’d kill for it!

But, well, someone did. Not on purpose, mind you.

At around noon, Vintage was exploring the hotel, he heard a gunshot. He knew the only firearms in the hotel were the ones in his room (as Vintage had a license to carry from his detective job). So, basically, he knew someone was screwed.

He rushed to his room, seen by a few people who took no notice.

It was only at dinner they noticed Vintage hadn’t left his room.

Cautiously, Emperor, Army, and Skull went to investigate. When they opened the door and their eyes rested on the sight...

Ding dong, dong ding!

A body has been discovered!!!

Chapter 2- The Butterfly effect (Deadly life)

It wasn’t AS gruesome as Prince’s death. It didn’t mean it was still scarring. There was a hole in Vintage’s forehead, cyan ink flowed out of it. In his hands, he held his gun.

Obviously, it looked like a suicide. He was holding his gun. But, Skull knew better. Despite not getting along well with Vintage, Skull knew that Vintage would never kill himself, even for something like this. Plus, there’s the lack of a note, all of that.

Upon closer examination, the group also finds freckles of some sort of white on the handle of the gun-before you say anything, it’s not drugs.

This lead to two possibilities; 1, Gloves. The gymnast has a thing of chalk dust for extra grip (not like they need it)

Or 2, Skull. He had been baking and using flour earlier that day. Some of that flour could have stuck on his hands and rubbed off after using the gun.

But, the alibis didn’t seem to help at all; Skull was alone while baking, and Gloves was just. Alone all day.

During the trial, it was back and fourth between people saying that Skull killed Vintage, or Gloves, or that it was a suicide at the dust was from something different.

The only reason the trial was solved was guilt.

Throughout the trial, one of the two suspects was looking more and more anxious, more and more guilty. 

A few minutes before the end, they yelled, “I’M THE BLACKENED!”

It was Gloves.

They explained what happened-They had found Vintage’s gun lying around somewhere and decided to return it. The thing is, they have no idea how guns work. So they accidentally triggered it. And when Vintage walked in, the same thing happened. Gloves panicked and put it in his hand.

Needless to say, Emperor broke down again. The two closest people in his life, dead or sentenced to it!

Emperor insisted it was Skull. He knew Gloves couldn’t hurt a fly and yet....!

Gloves was the blackened. But they weren’t about to go down without a fight.

They pressed a kiss on Emperor’s lips. It was a promise. It meant “I’ll see you soon”

And they raced down the hall in an attempt to get free.

Racing death- Ultimate Gymnast Gloves Elaris Execution: Executed

Gloves ran down the hallway, not stopping for anything.

Monokuma pressed a button, and pits opened up, showing falls onto spikes down below. So, Gloves got creative.

They leaped up and took hold of support beams, swinging their way across the hall.

But the last one.. The last one was weak, and broke under Gloves’ weight, sending them falling to their death

They collapsed onto the spikes, one impaling them through their stomach, sending neon green ink everywhere.

The second victim, Gloves Elaris, had fallen dead.

[adarlingwrites]

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who’s willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XXV

January 11, 2278.

I’m certain the entire Wasteland heard the explosion.

My partner stood still, completely silent. 

All of us watched as Paradise Falls went up in flames, the fire reflecting in Percy’s glasses.

The Abolitionists and the ex-slaves cheered and yelled, some raising their fists, the others embracing each other and sobbing. Cross carried the children on her shoulders, and the little ones laughed as Paradise burned. DeLoria sat near the Abolitionists’ caravan, speaking to a few of them while nursing a bruised rib, a confident grin on his face.

Everyone is celebrating, except for the two of us.

Percy drops to her knees and cries. Wordlessly, I took my place at her side, but I didn’t dare say anything.

She grabs and squeezes my hand, and I finally allowed myself to breathe.

“You’re free,” she whispers.

Just as quickly, she lets it go.

Now, it was time to lick our wounds.

Percy patched the injured up, including me. Her eyes never met mine, and she never said a word throughout the entire ordeal. My partner knelt in front of me, tending to the gunshot wound I had on my calf, but she doesn’t look at me.

As we said our goodbyes, we walked to where we parked the motorbike, almost two kilometers from Paradise Falls’ front gate. Percy hops on, but she doesn’t press herself against my back, opting to hold my sides.

“Let’s go home,” she finally mumbles.

I couldn’t help but overthink the entire journey home.

Was getting rid of the contract a mistake? Is Percy done with me?

Is she going to kick me out of her home? Where will I go?

What the fuck am I going to do without her?

Why isn’t she talking to me?

January 12, 2278.

I was anxious for hours.

When we arrived in Megaton, Percy didn’t even stop by Gob’s Saloon to fetch Dogmeat. She just kept marching on. Without breathing a word, I followed her home.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind us, not minding the cold, Percy strips to her underclothes as she drags her feet to the kitchenette, struggling with the buckles of her armor. The faucet was running, and I heard her shiver as she tended to herself.

Then, I hear the refrigerator door opening and closing shut. She emerges from the kitchenette with a half-empty bottle of scotch in her hand, and she sits on the sofa, taking a long swig from the bottle. Fresh bandages were on her scrapes from the fight. Percy takes off her glasses and I see it clearer now, the darkening circles under her eyes from all the things she had to deal with.

Now, she has to deal with me too.

“Percy,” I mumble, building the courage to speak to her.

“Talk to me. Please?” It was my turn to use that word.

The two centuries of being bound to my contract felt longer than the silence between my question and her response.

“Come sit,” she tells me.

I do as she says.

We sat on the opposite sides of the sofa, just a few inches between each other, but it feels like she’s worlds away.

I decided that I did not like this feeling.

“Should I still call you Charon, or should I start calling you Artyom?”

I blinked at her a few times.

Tonight, I am reminded that I wasn’t always ‘Charon’. I remember my old name, the one that my mother gave me, but that child was a different person from who I became, and who I am now. That boy is long gone. But now… Now I’m not even a man.

Tonight I am reminded that I am a monster, inside and out.

“Charon.”

She went silent after that, expression blank.

“Artyom Volkov is long dead. He died when the Enclave’s predecessors took him,” I added.

Percy puts the bottle down, and her eyes flick towards me. Wet. Wary. Afraid.

It hurts to see it.

“Charon, I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to say. I know you were involved in the Sino-American war but…” Percy starts, pressing her knees against her chest.

“Hearing it come from that slaver’s mouth… It’s still pretty jarring. It scared me.”

I gulped.

No, not fear.

I’d rather she hate me than fear me.

My eyes trailed to her shivering form and out of instinct, I stood up, my feet taking me upstairs. I come back with a blanket from her room, and I drape it around her shoulders. I intended to leave her alone after that. But before I can take my hand away, she touches it, and she pulls me back on the couch. Wrapping the blanket around herself, she settles on my lap, back pressed against my chest. Before I can stop myself, I draw her closer to me.

I’m certain she can feel my heart hammering hard on her back.

“None of the conditioning you went through is your fault. I really do believe that.”

“But?” I ask her. I felt like there was going to be a ‘but”.

“But nothing. Charon, I’m sorry for not talking to you. I’m still absorbing what the hell just happened. I was emotional, I was having irrational thoughts and… and I didn’t want to say anything that will hurt you.”

“I understand.”

The tightness in my chest dissipates little by little, and I press my face against the back of Percy’s head. I can smell smoke, gunpowder, Abraxo, and a scent that was hers alone.

“Remember what I said months ago, about how I’ll refrain from discussing your past unless you want to talk about it?” Percy asks me, looking up and leaning against my right shoulder.

I nod. I’m afraid where this conversation is leading to.

“Let’s just rip the entire band-aid off. Can I ask you some things now?”

I knew it.

“I’m afraid that what you think of me will change once you hear all of my sins,” is my response, and I look away from her. I wasn’t ready to confront that part of myself yet.

I wasn’t ready to hear what she said after that, either.

“Hey. I want to let you know, no matter what I’ll learn about your history, or what people say about you, you’re still the Charon I know. You’re still the Charon who kept my impulsive ass in check, the Charon who carries me gently whenever I’m injured or shitfaced. You’re still the Charon who stuck by me as we wiped off that slaver shithole off the map, the same Charon who broke free from centuries of being tied to that fucking piece of paper. You’ll always be my Charon.”

My eyes are starting to get wet.

Goddammit, Percy.

Without saying anything, I buried my face into her hair, and I did the best I could to hold back my tears. We stayed like that for what seemed like hours.

“Besides,” she finally breaks the silence. “I don’t think I have the heart to hear what they forced you to do either. I want to ask about who you were as Artyom Volkov.”

I scratch my head, or what skin left on it anyway. “Angel, as much as I would like to, I was sixteen when they changed my name and deemed me ready. I’m afraid there’s not much to tell. I’ve lived for more than two centuries, and sixteen years seems insignificant now.”

“Well, I’m just about to turn twenty next month, so excuse my differing perception on the flow of time,” Percy chuckles, eyeing her photograph with her father on the wall.

She turns around to face me. I lie back on the sofa, and she lies prone on top of me, chin resting on my chest. “Let’s start small. You mentioned your dad before. Tell me about him.”

I let myself smile a little. Propping my head against one arm, I’m ready to tell her everything I can remember.

“His name’s Ilya. I can’t quite remember his face, but he was big. Like a yao guai.”

Percy giggles.

“Yeah, definitely like you. Tell me more about him. What was he like?”

“He made me feel safe. During the winter he’ll take his ushanka out of the attic and tell me about the place he came from. I remember wanting to wear his hat. He said that one day I’d grow into it, but he was killed before that could happen,” I tell Percy, and she gives me a sympathetic look.

Not pity again. I need to change the subject. “We spent Saturdays fishing. I barely saw him during the weekdays.”

“Huh. What did he do?”

“I can’t remember, but on Sundays, my father used to bring people from work in the house, and they’d sit and talk for hours. I couldn’t comprehend what they were discussing together.”

“What did they talk about?” Percy asks.

“I’m not sure. Once, I asked him what the meetings are about, and he told me that they’re talking about how they can be paid better at work, so he can bring home more food for us.”

Percy crawls a little closer. “Sounds like he was in a labor union.”

“A what?”

“A labor union. I don’t know when unions first showed up, but history class from the vault taught me a little about the ones from the era before the Great War. Resources became scarce, so did wages. People worked long hours for very little pay. Workers banded together to demand better benefits from their employers. Mr. Brotch told us that what the laborers did was fair, and I think I agree,” Percy explains, a stray lock of hair on her forehead.

I brushed it off gingerly, my fingers brushing against her skin. She leans into my touch.

“In hindsight, it was probably their meetings that led to them being accused as Reds,” she adds.

I paused, pondering on the information Percy shared with me.

“You know, come to think of it, he always came home late and tired. My mother was always worried about him.”

At the mention of the word mother, Percy’s eyes flick to mine. There was a certain kind of sadness in them. I felt a twinge in my chest.

“What was your mother like, Charon? What was it like to have a mom?”

“Her name’s Annika. She was gentle to me. Protective too. Scolded the kids who made fun of my difficulties in reading. Aside from singing me lullabies, she used to make me the thinnest pancakes. She called them blins. Having a mother who looked after me was nice. I felt cared for.”

“That… that sounds amazing.”

My breath hitches at my throat.

“I loved her very much. I loved both of them very much.”

Percy strokes my arm, hand soft against my rough skin and hardened muscles. “Was there anyone else in your family? Like a sibling?”

“I didn’t have brothers or sisters, but I did have an aunt. Katya. She was my father’s younger sister.”

“What do you remember about her?”

“The last time I saw her was to visit her during her birthday, Her hair was red too. I didn’t know what happened to her after I was taken away.”

“And what was Aunt Katya like?”

“Loud. Chatty. She talked my ear off for hours, though there were some things she said that I didn’t understand a child, and can’t remember now. I loved her too.”

“I see,” my partner replies, yawning and stretching.

Then, Percy asks me a question that made me hold my breath.

“Was there anyone else you loved aside from family, Charon?”

You.

Wait. Stop. Damn, and I almost said it out loud.

I care for Percy. I really do. But is it love?

Fuck, I’m still figuring it out.

“The indoctrination didn’t leave much room for that. We were actively discouraged from forming any attachments to anyone except our employers,” I tell her instead.

I felt Percy sag against me. She rests her cheek against my chest.

“I’m sorry.”

“There was someone I cared for despite the conditioning, though,” I tell her.

“Who?”

“Her name was Magwayen. I called her Mag, I couldn’t remember her name before she was inducted. When I was brought to the facility as a child, she cared for me.”

Percy holds my gaze, silently asking me to continue.

“I think she was about your age when I met her. I was a lot shorter than her back then. By the time I was inducted, she was our medic. I was their demolition guy.”

Thinking about Mag, my brain started to itch again.

“Now that I’ve thought about it, you two are similar.”

Head perking up, Percy gives me a curious look. “Oh? Aside from our age and our background in medicine, what else did we share?”

“She was Asian too, I think. Had dark hair like yours, but it was longer. You both had strong principles. She managed to fake being subservient to survive. I was supposed to report her for that, but she was kind. It became our secret.”

Percy gives me a soft smile. “I have a feeling Mag and I would’ve gotten along.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. “Yeah. And you were both short as hell.”

With a laugh, Percy gives my chest a playful shove. “Making fun of me now? Oh Charon, how could you?” she asks, her voice dripping with mock hurt.

“Now that the contract’s gone, I can tease you without the fear of you selling it.”

“As if my conscience is capable of letting me do that,” she replies, now with genuine hurt. Shit.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that.”

Percy blinks at me.

“I do not want to admit it, but you selling my contract became one of my worst fears. I didn’t expect you to free me from it.”

To my surprise, this angel leans forward and kisses me at my temple, where I had pointed a gun at a few hours ago.

“I didn’t free you from it. I just helped you. You did that yourself, big guy. I’m proud of you.”

I fell asleep smiling.

??? ??, ????.

I feel an unwelcome weight above me.

When I opened my eyes, I wasn’t looking into eyes with the color of Pre-War chocolate anymore. They’re green, reminding me of the Wasteland’s radioactive sky.

Recoiling in horror, I blurted her name.

“Vanth.”

She wraps her hands around my neck, and I was in hell all over again.

“Charon.”

“Vanth, no. Stop! Get the fuck off me,” I growl at her. “Percy, where are you?”

“She can’t save you now.”

In the corner of my eye, I see Percy, her skull and brains strewn on the metal floor.

No...

Powerless, I just let it fucking happen.

All of a sudden, I can hear Percy’s voice.

“Charon, wake up,” Percy whispers with urgency, gently shaking me awake.

I saw her face, and crushed her against my chest.

“Nightmare?”

I nod.

“Hey, who’s Vanth?”

[bbrandy2002]

The Fall of Cordonia

Chapter Four

Trigger Warnings: Profanity, Gun Violence, Death, Sexual Content.

A/N: This came to my attention a few days ago. This series is not a spoiler for what happens in the real TRH book. I would demand every diamond I ever spent back if that happened 😬

I will also be in hiding from a certain fic writer who shall remain nameless, after this. I can explain 🤷

"Leeeooooo!!", Riley screamed as a struggle between life and death ensued over her shattered and torn body. Like a thief in the night, death entered that room with a sickening crack of the neck, taking its prisoner with him back to the fiery pits of hell.

Bradshaw slumped his lifeless body across the queen, momentum dropping him to the floor below, his miserable soul quickly extinquished. At the same time, Leo's bright blue eyes lost their color as he instinctly glanced over to look at his younger brother one last time. There were no words, just the unspoken, I love you's,  between them. This was the one final bonding moment between Leo and Liam, before he fell back onto the bed.

Riley watched with horror as he stared blankly at her, jerking momentarily as his breath was literally sucked from his lungs.

Bastien was holding Liam up, literally and emotionally as he watched his older brother slip from his life.

He lowered a stunned Liam into his plush, leather desk chair; still reeling from the events that just occured in front of him.

Liam stood in disbelief from the watch tower, overlooking the empty square below, a heavy feeling pooled in his stomach. He didn't dare look at his brother for fear he would do or say something he'd regret.

"Come on little brother, say something"

"What do you want me to say Leo? Thank you for running away from your duties? Thank you for leaving me to pick up after the mess you are inevitably creating? No, wait...how about this...thank you for being so fucking selfish to ask me to give up my future so you can escape from your responsibilties and place the burden on me.....yes, Leo...how can I truly ever thank you? Is that what you want me to say?

"It's not like that and you know it....Liam, man...I'm not cut out for this shit, never have been".

"You"ve never even tried....the only two things you've ever cared about besides yourself is booze and pussy".

"Thats bullshit"

"You're right.....this whole thing is nothing but a big pile of bullshit and you're too coward to admit you have fucked me over."

"Liam...whatever you think of me, it doesn't change the fact that I"m not cut out for this life....but you.....you are.....you"ve always been"

Liam shakes his head furiously, his mood becoming more somber, "Then why do I feel like you just sucker punched me in the gut?"

Leo places a hand on Liam's shoulder, contemplating his words and actions carefully, "Because its a huge burden I've unloaded on you and I know that.....but shit, I've never doubted for a second, you're the man this country needs. Just say you'll do this".

With the weight of the world on his broad shoulders and trepidation in his voice, "I don't have a choice do I? If not me, then who?"

Leo hesitantly pulled his brother to him, wrapping his arms around him, clapping his back, "I hope one day... I can make you as proud of me, as you have always made me".

"I doubt that Leo".

Liam sank deep into his chair, loudly exhaling what little air he had been holding inside. He allowed the trickle of tears to flow as he thought about his brothers' sacrifice.....Riley is Liam's everything, Leo ultimately died to protect him.

He wiped away the moisture from his face and cleared the lump in his throat. There was no time to mourn; his wife was still trapped in that room of Bradshaw's palace and it was anyone's guess how she would get out.

"Sweetheart, I'm sending help. We have a rescue team in place with our allies and Bastien just informed me they will be there soon. Can you make sure the door is locked?"

The sound of his calming voice was the first time in 24 hours she felt something other than fear. With her attempt to sit up, she groaned loudly at the stabbing pain in her chest, she was positive her ribs were broken. "I can't", was all she could utter.

Riley nodded at Liam as he continued to reassure her everything was going to be okay, vowing to get her home to him. Everything that had happened played like a whirlwind in her mind. As silence took over the room, she heard the distinct sound of her baby crying and it caught her ear.

"Nikolas?"

Riley sat rocking a sleepy Nikolas in the nursery at Valtoria, fighting his sleep with excessive determination. Even through his very vocal, little tantrum, she couldn't help but chuckle as she noticed he looked exactly like  Liam when he's angry. That furrowed brow with the crease between his eyes, the way his face reddened and his nose scrunched up.

"My little prince, I love you sweet boy, but, that kind of cry only works on your father".

As Nikolas' lips started to quiver and with his voice turning hoarse, she, too, gave into him.

Riley lifted her 3 month old son to her shoulder, rubbing circles over his tiny back, basking in his sweet baby smell. She hummed a lullaby her late mother sang,  amazed it still clung to her memories since she was so young when she passed.

Nikolas lifted his tired head briefly and she soothed him back to her. His cries softened and he became heavier in her arms.

She could never thank Liam enough for this life he made just for her. The titles, the estate, the fancy balls, the lavish lifestyle was nothing, but, this little boy and Liam's love was all she needed or wanted.

The blast of distant gunshots ripped her back to reality. She didn't flinch;  feelings, fear, emotions, shock, there was nothing, as numbness took over.

The noise became louder and closer, yet, Riley remained in her position. She waited patiently, expecting the door to burst open any moment.

"Riley? What's going on?", Liam questioned frantically.

Riley didn't hear him, she sunk deep into a world of her own; one without pain, tears or bloodshed. A smile swept across her face as Liam begged her to speak back to him.

"Baby, look at me.....what's happening....please Riley, say something!".

She remained still, closing her eyes, humming Nikolas' lullaby to herself. She could see Liam in her mind, waiting on his table when she turned around and laid eyes on him for the first time. When she told him he was going to be a father and he cried in her arms. The first time he held his son and nothing else mattered in the world.

"Riley, my love.....I need you to speak to me".

The door knob began to twist erratically as sounds of chaos and struggle carried on outside;  shouts and blasts ringing in unisom.

"Riley?", Liam cocked his head watching his wife struggle with her mind; she was so calm and placid. He watched as the lights flickered and then shut off into complete darkness. The video feed lost its connection.

Riley didn't hear the door break down, she didn't see the flashlights shine on her face, nor, hear the heavy boots approach her, she was gone.

Strong hands gently shook her, then cautiously lifted her up from the bed, stepping over Bradshaw to carry her out of the room.

She steadily passed through the halls and corridors of the palace, surrounded by dozens of uniformed men and women.

"Maxwell? Is this heaven?"

"Rise and shine little blossom, you have a big day ahead".

"Max, I just want to lay here a little longer"

"I know that, but, when have I ever left you alone?"

Riley snickers, "true.....so you came to get me?"

"Not exactly....let's just say I'm here to watch over you. The good thing about where I am now is you can never get rid of me".

"Maxwell, will I ever see you again?

"Of course, but, not for a very long time....Riley, you have so many people counting on you right now. You have to go back and kick some ass. What's coming is so much bigger than Liam".

"There's more coming? ...Maxwell I can't do this".

"Sure you can".

"I love you Maxwell"

"I love you too Blossom"

Four days later....

Liam gathered the last of his documents and strolled from his office with fire in his eyes. Taking long strides, his black leather oxfords the only sound made as he walked alone down the long corridor.

He hung his head as he paused momentarily at the door of his quarters, his queen still recovering inside. Liam touched the door, in some way hoping to gather the strength the woman behind it may pass on to him.  Her screams of terror still waking her every so often. I promise love, I'm going to make this better for you, for Nikolas...for Cordonia.

Bastien met him at the top of the staircase; the head guard taking in Liam's appearance. He was dressed in the finest suit he owned, wearing the emerald cufflinks with the Cordonian seal, Riley gave him in Shanghai and his hair perfectly smoothed back.

He was nervous, as much as his father prepared him for the threat of enemies, Constantine had never faced anything like this. There was no one to turn to, he shouldered this responsibilty himself, not only as a King, but, as a father. He would be damned if he gave up now, remembering Leo's words to him, you're the man this country needs.

He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "I'm ready", he said confidently.

The palace was quiet, the destruction was apparent all around, the lights burning dimly and the eery presence of lives lost all around him.

He stepped into the throne room, attendees and press immediatly standing to their feet, no one uttering a word. He looked every bit the leader Cordonia needed right now, while inside feeling every bit a failure as a father and husband.

He took his place at the podium, there was no usual applause, no chatter, only sniffles and eager ears longing for reassurance from their monarch. Liam stood silent for the longest time, his people understanding of it, as he looked around the room, taking in each face.

What was left of the council gathered in the front row, his eyes following in a line of each member and those who left nothing but chairs behind. Bertrand who couldn't contain his tears as a rose sat in the seat next to him where Maxwell typically sat. Drake, his arm in a cast, head bandaged, with the most defeated look Liam had ever seen him wear. The empty seat of Olivia next to him, with a scarlett ribbon, a shell shocked Kiara, Emmaline sitting in place of Landon, a distraught Adelaide, a subdued Neville, Hakim, and the rest of the row void of its normal holders.

He brought a fist to his mouth, attempting to catch himself from allowing the emotions to overtake him.

He lowered his fist and rested it on the podium, clearing his throat, in preparation to address the council and nation.

"My fellow Cordonians and esteemed members of the council....Four days ago, tragedy struck our country and has affected each of us in ways no one could ever have envisioned. My heart and mind is with each one of you, even as I, too have suffered great personal loss. While I don't have all of the answers, I do know this....your monarch will not sit idly by and give in to the demands of those behind these attacks. King Bradshaw was just one element of this, it was discovered the recently deceased Princess of Monaco was also involved in harboring the Prince....my son, who has yet to be discovered. In the grand scheme of thing, those two were just pawns for another leader.

That is why, today, I am declaring war against Monterisso. Queen Amalas.....I know you are watching right now, so hear me when I say this.....I'm coming for you. There will be no place safe for you to hide.... and I daresay, I will win. This goes for anyone else involved in assisting her.

Our allies have remained in contact and have worked tirelessly to help save our kingdom. We are down right now, but, we have faced enemies before and have come through victorius...I have no reason to believe this time will be any different.

Now if you will join me in a moment of silence for those who we have lost".

Liam thanked the crowd, declining questions and eased his way into the front row, standing before Bertrand. He embraced him, knowing his attempts at comfort were in vain and there was really nothing he could say. He knelt down before Maxwell's empty chair, biting his lip, all the training in the world unable to hold back his emotions. Drake sidled beside him, kneeling down with his uninjured arm around Liam's back. The Three Musketeers, down to two.

He stood, and held Drake for what seemed like an eternity. Liam moved forward, picking up the scarlett ribbon from the next chair, clasping it in his hands, his jaw tensing as he dropped the ribbon back to it's place.

When he was finished, he left the room and headed back to his quarters alone. He loosed his tie as he made his way up the steps and to his bedroom. He stopped at the door as Riley turned to him, dismissing her nurse before shutting the door behind him.

"Is it done?", Riley questioned, holding Nikolas' stuffed bear in her arms.

Liam nodded, "It is".

He threw his tie on the bed and poured a finger of scotch, downing it all at once. He faced his wife once more, "We'll either win this my love.....or lose everything trying".

Monterisso

Amalas allowed the thin, dainty fingers of her companion to slip under her skirt, groaning with pleasure as two fingers swept between her wet folds.

The two women were enticed by the words coming out of Cordonia, laughing with one another over the supposed threat. Liam has never been alone, Amalas has known his every move and gesture for well over a year. Even now, she is still one step ahead of him.

She lays back on the sofa with her legs wrapped around the neck of the woman who has caught her affections. She swallows hard then moans loudly as the skilled tongue laps up her juices and slides into her dripping entrance . Pleasure begins to ripple through her body and she arches her back as a thumb rubs circles over her clit. She cries out, feeling her lower abdomen tighten, her core pulsing until she is met with her release.

Both woman fall back onto the sofa, breathing heavily, clutching one another.

"I do believe this day continues to get better", Amalas said while clutching the red hair of her companion.

"Shall we celebrate our victory further?"

"Olivia, I think I have something else in mind", Amalas replies as she reaches under the sofa, eager to unleash her next plan. "You should know, I do enjoy doing things on my own".

[daryls-dixon-antoni]

Chapter 33.) Service

"Mom, Hope's crying. I think she's hungry."

"Okay," I respond, softly.

"Mom, she needs you, I need you."

I look over at my son, ready to snap at him, when I hear Rick's voice call, "Anne, he's here, we need you."

My feet move before my brain processes why. I follow Rick to the gate seeing Negan talking with Spencer in front of Eugene and Rosita.

"I know I had to make a pretty strong first impression," I hear Negan say to Spencer as we get there. "Well, hello, there." He greets Rick once he see's him.

Rick doesn't respond and Negan glares, "Do not make me have to ask."

"You said a week," Rick says, opening the gate. "You're early."

Negan grins, "I missed you."

I see the dead approaching from behind Negan and hope he bites him.

Negan grins even wider and says, "Oh, Rick, come on out here." He starts backing up towards the dead. "Watch this. Calling it!"

He hits the dead with his bat and when I blink an image of Glenn's headless body, and Abraham's crushed in skull swims behind my eyelids. "Ha ha ha! Easy peasy lemon squeezy! All right, everybody. Let's get started." When I look to see the men he brought my heart drops seeing Daryl, beaten up and in loose fitting sweat clothes with a spray painted A on them. My head starts swimming, especially when I look towards the movement out of the corner of my eye to notice Mason carrying Hope towards us.

Towards Negan.

"Big day. Hey, Rick, you see that, what I just did? That is some service! I mean, we almost get turned away at the gate. 'Who is that guy, anyway?' Do I get mad? Do I throw a fit? Do I bash some ginger's dome in? Nope. I just take care of one of these dead pricks that could've killed one of y'all. Service." He walks forward and thrusts his bat into Rick's hand as he walks by saying, "Hold this."

"Hot diggity dog! This place is magnificent! An embarrassment of riches, as they say. Yes, sir, I do believe you are gonna have plenty to offer up." As Negan's chuckling, I'm stood next to Rick, with Mason behind me and Hope in my arms.

Rick walks towards Daryl saying, "Daryl, hey-"

Negan steps forward and sternly cuts him off, "No. Nope. He's the help."

I step forward timidly, "Can I at least introduce him to his daughter?" I can hear my blood flowing through my ears as I ask. Hoping beyond hope that he wouldn't hurt a newborn. I mostly said it to let Daryl know the baby is okay. That she made it.

"No. You don't look at him, you don't talk to him, and I don't make you chop anything off of him. Same goes for everyone," he practically sings as he aproaches Rosita, “Right?”

He then approaches Rick again and says, "A lot of suspense there. I don't think she even knew how much. All right, let's get this show on the road. See what kind of goodies you got in the cupboard."

"We put aside half the supplies," Rick says.

"No, Rick. No. You don't decide what we take. I do." He turns to his people, "Arat."

A woman with blond hair that hasn't been died in ages yells, "You heard the man. Move out!" His people start walking forward and Negan turns back to Rick.

"They're just gonna search the houses a bit, keep the process movin'." He sighs, "All right. You gonna show me around or not?" When Rick doesn't respond he says, "Well?"

Rick starts moving, and I hand Hope to Mason and whisper, "Try to stay as far away from anyone that isn't ours, keep her safe."

He nods quickly before asking, "Does Daryl count as the people I have to avoid?"

I nod, "For now, yes. Now go."

I quickly follow behind Rick and Negan, knowing that was Rick's request earlier.

As we walk we see some men carrying an arm chair out of one of the homes as Negan says, cheerily, "You see this? This is the kind of thing that just tickles my balls. A little cooperation and everything is pleasant as punch. You see, we really are reasonable people once you get to know us. Honest." He opens a cooler and grabs a can of something, opens it, drinks it then crushes it. "Ohh, Man. Damn, I love this place!"

A man calls his name and approaches with Deanna's camera. "Somethin' you might wanna see."

"Well, well, well." Negan cheers, "What do we have here? I got my fingers crossed for a little freaky-deaky."

He starts playing Rick's tape from the interviews with Deanna. The ones from when we first arrived here, "know me. I've killed people. I don't even know how many by now."

"Jee-hee-sus!" Negan says, looking at the camera.

"But I know why they're all dead." Rick’s voice continues.

"Is that you, Rick, underneath all that man-bush?"

The tape keeps playing, "They're dead so my family, all those people out there, can be alive."

"Shee-ot. I would not have messed with that guy." He clicks the camera and starts recording, "But that's not you anymore is it?" He turns the camera to himself, "Nope." He turns the camera off. "I really gotta shave this shit.” He says, about his facial hair. “Whatever happened to that sick girl? That seemed like a hell of a stressful night for her. The way she was carrying on; she was married to number two, right?" He continues, "Careful. Careful how you're lookin' at me, Rick. Widows, especially ones that look like that," he breathes out and I start shaking slightly. "They are special. I love 'em. Right after their husbands go, they are just... empty inside. But usually not for long." He chuckles, "Ahh. Where is she? I would love to see her."

"Do you care to pay your respects?" I turn to see Father Gabriel has approached us.

"Ho-ly crap! You are creepy as shit, sneaking up on me, wearin' that collar with that freaky-ass smile."

"My apologies. I'm Father Gabriel."

Negan pauses, looking taken aback, "She didn't make it?" None of us respond, not giving him the satisfaction.

We end up in the cemetary and I have to try my hardest not to let Daryl know that Maggie's fine.

"Damn tragedy. That's what this is." Negan breathes deeply. "Well, this must really suck for you guys. Number one? That was on me. No choice there. Lessons had to be learned. But number two? That didn't need to happen. Daryl, there, he forced my hand." I bite my lip so I don't correct him. Don't get anyone killed. "Probably put her right on her back, huh? Damn. I was gonna ask her to come back with me. Oh, I know what you're thinkin'. How could I have a shot, guy that just bashed her husband's head in?" He chuckles, "You'd be surprised. Boy, people, they-" he's cut off by the distant sound of a gunshot. Negan starts walking away and as we get to the house where the sound came from, I see it's ours.

Once we make it in the room we hear one of Negan's men say, "Kid what do you think happens next?"

"You die," Carl responds, aiming a gun at the man.

"Carl. Carl, put it down." Rick begs.

"No. He's taking all of our medicine. They said only half our stuff."

Negan chuckles, "Of course. Oh-ho. Really, kid?"

Carl turns to Negan, "And you should go. Before you find out how dangerous we all are."

"Well, pardon me, young man.

Excuse the shit out of my goddamn french, but did you just threaten me? Look, I get threatening Davey here, but I can't have it. Not him, not me."

"Carl, just put it down." Rick begs, again.

"Don't be rude, Rick. We are having a conversation here. Now, boy, where were we? Oh, yeah. Your giant, man-sized balls. No threatening us. Listen, I like you, so I don't want to go hard proving a point here. You don't want that. I said half your shit, and half is what I say it is. I'm serious. Do you want me to prove how serious? Again?"

"Carl, Hunny. Put the gun down." I whisper, gently.

Carl turns back to me briefly, before sighing and giving Rick the gun.

Negan takes it from Rick, "You know, Rick. This whole thing reminds me that you have a lot of guns. There's all the guns you took from my outpost when you wasted all my people with a shit-ton of your own guns. And I'm bettin' there's even more. Which adds up to an absolute ass-load of guns, and as this little emotional outburst just made crystal clear; I can't allow that. They're all mine now. So tell me, Rick. Where are my guns?"

We get to the armory, and Olivia stays calm, "I... figured you were coming.”

"Show him where the guns are, Olivia." Rick says.

"The armory's inside," she turns around and makes her way to the door leading into the actual armory.

"You run the show in here?" Negan asks.

She stops, turns half around, "I-I just keep track of it all, the rations, the guns."

"Good. Smart. Don't let me stop you. Take her out, boys. Show 'em the goods." She leads his men in and I go to follow but hesitate when I hear Negan say, "Wait, wait, wait. While they're at it, I just want to point out to you that I'm not taking a scrap of your food. Slim pickin's in here." I turn around. “And I can't be the only one to notice that you got a fat lady in charge of keeping track of rations, can I? Either way, you starve to death; I don't get shit. So, for now; you get to keep all the food. How 'bout that?"

"What do you want me to say?" Rick asks, hoarsely.

"I don't know, Rick. How about a thank you. You think that might be in order? Or is that too much to ask?!"

When Rick doesn't say anything I speak up, "It's hard ... for him, y'know... he was close to Glenn... even closer to D" I take a deep breath, "Daryl. You can understand?"

Negan laughs, "Ohh. I know we started off on the wrong foot, but what can I say?" He turns to look Rick in the eye, "You forced my hand, Rick. But it's like I've been tryin' to tell you; I'm a very reasonable man as long as you cooperate. So let me ask you a question, Rick. Are you cooperating?"

"What's it look like?" Rick asks.

"Oh-ho-ho. I know what it looks like. But what I really want to know is if we're gonna find all the guns back there or if maybe; you got a few just waitin' for their moment? Just like my Lucille."

"They're all in there, to the best of my knowledge."

"Mm. I am countin' on that, Rick." Negan brushes past me and into the Armory and Rick and I exchange looks.

"I had it handled," Rick whispers, angrily.

"No, you didn't. So I helped, that's why I'm here, right? I'm your temporary replacement for Daryl, right? Because you don't have it handled."

He gives me an almost shocked expression for my sharp tone. Yet, somehow I can’t find it in myself to care. He’s letting this man run our lives after he murdered our own, man napped Daryl, and now he just gets to walk around our home talking in his annoying ass sing-songy voice and lean around exaggeratedly without a care in the world.

"You know what today is, Rick? Today is a banner day. Yes, it is. I think this little arrangement we have is gonna work out just fine." I keep my breath held as Daryl comes out of the armory, helping Negan's men load up his vehicles.

"Hold up." I freeze completely, worried my glance in Daryl's direction was going to get him killed. Instead, Negan takes a grun from Daryl's pile and says, "Let's see if you've been taking care of my guns." He cocks the gun, aims it at Daryl and I feel the tears coming to my eyes as I watch as if in slow motion Daryl just continue working, as if he didn't have a gun on him.

When he shoots, he hits a window and not Daryl and I let out a choked breath.

"Feels good. Sounds good! Oh, I do believe Lucille's gettin' a little jealous. Well, ho-ly smokes!" He takes the rocket launcher that one of his men just retrieved. "Look at this! It was you guys that took out Little Timmy and the Dick Brigade? Wow, Rick. Gettin' in your last licks. Ooh, man, I'm gonna have some fun with this."

"Please, I-I don't know for-" when I look over to Olivia's distressed voice, I see the woman Negan had addressed earlier dragging Olivia up the stairs to the outside.

Negan looks at his woman and chastizes, "Arat, we don't do that unless they do somethin' to deserve it."

"Yeah, we went through the inventory. Guns in the armory, guns they had around the walls, they're short." She pulls Olivia's notebook out from underneeth her arm and hands it to Negan, "Glock 9 and a .22 Bobcat."

Negan turns to Olivia, "Is that true?" Olivia nods and Rick speaks up.

"We had some people leave town. Those guns probably went with them."

"So Olivia sucks at her job. Is that what you're sayin'?"

"No. No, I'm not sayin' that."

"There should be a full accounting here, right? Top to bottom. Am I right?"

"No," Olivia responds, surprising me. "I mean, yes. The inventory is correct."

"Good," Negan says, then steps closer to Olivia, "But not so good, too. You see, what's in here," he holds up her notebook, "isn't in there. You're two handguns short. Do you know where they are?"

"No... I..." she trails off.

Negan sighs, turning back to Rick, "That's disappointing, Rick. I thought that we had an understanding. But this, well, this shows that someone's not on board, and I can't have that." He gets even closer to Olivia and says, "I don't enjoy killing women. Men; I can waste them all the live long. But at the end of the day, Olivia, my dear, this was your responsibility."

"Look," Rick interrupts, "we can work this out."

"Oh, yes, we can. And I'm going to; right now." Olivia whimpers, "This was your job, and you screwed up. Keeping track of guns? That shit is life and death."

We are in the church with the town of Alexandria. Rick's at the front speaking, "I thought about hiding some of the guns. I did it before. I figured I could bury some out there," he points outside of the church. "Maybe we don't touch them for years."

"Years?" Tobin asks.

"Yeah. That's right. But what if the Saviors find those guns? What if we run into them when we have those guns on us? One of us dies. Maybe more than that. Maybe a lot more. Doesn't matter how many bullets we have. It isn't enough. They win. It's that black-and-white. Hiding a couple of guns isn't the answer, not anymore. We don't have to like it, but we need to give them over. A Glock 9 and a .22. That's what they're looking for. Who has it? Someone knows where they are or they know who does. If we don't find them, they're gonna kill Olivia. They'll do it."

One of the townspeople stands up and asks, "Why do they care? Two guns aren't a threat to them. But those guns could help protect us from whatever else is out there."

"Do you have 'em?" Rick asks.

"Wish I did," the man responds, sitting back down.

"Most of you weren't there. You didn't have to watch."

I stand up, "They killed Abraham to get a point across. They killed Glenn because Daryl stood up to them. They bashed Glenn's head in. To the point he didn't even have one.”

Rick puts a hand up, "That's enough Anne." When I sit back down next to Mason, Rick continues, "Listen, you can look away now; when someone else dies. Or you can help solve this. We give them what they want, and we live in peace."

Eric stands up, "Say we find the guns. How are we gonna get out of this, Rick?"

"There is no way out of this," Rick responds. "Let me put this to all of you as clearly as I can. I'm not in charge anymore. Negan is. Now, who has the guns?"

It's silent for a long time before Eugene speaks up, "Not everyone's here."

I'm in Spencer’s house with Rick, he's looking everywhere for the guns while I watch.

Gabriel comes in and says, "Nothing. Still. I just, I feel like I know this is going to work out."

"How?" Rick asks, still searching.

"We'll find the guns. We'll get through today. Then we'll find a way to go forward, how to beat this."

"There is no beating this."

"Yes, there is, somehow. I have faith in us. I have faith in you. Things change. You're my friend. It wasn't always that way. Where's Michonne? Could she possibly have-"

"She doesn't have anything they're lookin' for." Rick states, standing up. "What you did with the graves, it was quick thinkin'. Thank you."

"It was nice digging a grave I knew would stay empty." Gabe says as Aaron comes in.

"No luck?" Aaron asks.

"Nope," I respond.

"We searched the house, Rosita's. There's nothing. So what do we do now?"

"If they were anywhere, they'd be here." Rick says. "Spencer's done this kind of thing before. We keep looking. Maybe today works out."

"I'll check the garage," Aaron says, walking away.

"I'll look in Deanna's office again." Gabe agrees.

"I guess I'm rechecking upstairs." I say, heading up the stairs.

Once Rick found the guns, we head outside to see one of Negan's men pesturing Enid.

"Balloons? You going to a party, little girl?"

"Can I keep them, please?" Enid asks, "It's just... Let me keep them."

"Say please again, little girl."

"Please."

"Yeah," he puts a finger on her cheek and I have to look away as I hear him say, "One more time."

"Please," Enid responds, sharply.

"Be careful, little girl."

"They'll be gone soon," Rick whispers, and when I turn I see the judgement in Carl's eyes.

"Come on, Rick. Let's go give the guns to Negan." I say.

He nods and we approach Negan who says, "What you got for me, Rick?" Rick hands him the guns. "Well, would you look at that? They were here after all. Funny how a little 'Holy shit! Somebody's gonna die!' lights a fire under everybody's ass!"

Olivia starts crying, so instinctively I walk over and put an arm comfortably around her as Negan continues.

"So, tell me, Rick. Which one of your fine folks almost cost Olivia the rest of her days?"

"It doesn't matter anymore," Rick says.

"No, it matters. See, you need to get everybody on board. Everybody. Or we just go right back to square one."

They finally start leaving, and there is nothing I want more than to get to walk over to Daryl and hug him, have him pull me in and tell me everything is going to be okay.

"Hell of a place you got here, Rick." Negan says.

"Give me a second," I hear Rick ask.

"No," is Negan's response. I have yet to take my eyes off of Daryl.

"Please, can you just... give me a second?"

Negan starts humming and when Rick comes back, Michonne is with him, a dead deer around her shoulders.

"Look at this!" Negan cheers.

"I thought she was scavenging." Rick says, "She was hunting." I watch in horror as Rick gives Negan a rifle, "This one never came inside. We kept it near the line."

"Look at this. This is something to build a relationship on. Good for you, Rick. This is readin' the room and gettin' the message. I've said it before, I'm gonna say it again. You, sir are special."

"Now that you know we can follow your rules..."

"Yes?" Negan asks, almost singing.

"I'd like to ask you if Daryl can stay." I look gratefully at Rick.

"Not happenin'."

"Please, he has a newborn."

"You know what? I don't know. Maybe Daryl can plead his case. Maybe Daryl can sway me." Daryl keeps his eyes down. "Daryl?" When Daryl still keeps his eyes on the ground I step forward.

"Daryl, come on!" I beg.

Negan chuckles, "Well, you tried. Now what you got to do is get over that tall wall of yours and try harder out there. Earn for me. Because we're coming back soon, and when we do, you better have something interesting for us. Or Lucille... she's gonna have her way. I want you to hear that again. If you don't have something interesting for us. Somebody's gonna die. And no more magic guns. Arat, grab that deer. It's getting late. Let's go home." Michonne throws the deer down.

"Man, I love a gal that buys me dinner and doesn't expect me to put out." I hear Negan chuckle.

We watch Spencer bring Dwight Daryl's bike.

"I'll take that," Dwight says. "Rosita! Got a little thank-you. That's all you're getting back. Took all your guns, most of your beds. I hope you find a place to lay your pretty little head." He gets on Daryl's bike and says, "Did you find anything else out there?"

"Just your dead friends," Rosita shoots back, and walks away.

Dwight revs up Daryl's bike and for a moment I'm brought back to the memory of me riding with Daryl to lead the dead away from Alexandria. How it felt to be so close to his body as we helped our community.

I watch in disgust as he rides over to Daryl and says, "You can have it back. Just say the word." When Daryl doesn't respond, Dwight rides off.

"So, nobody died." Negan says to Rick. "And you know what I think? I think you and I, we've refined our understanding. Let me ask you something, Rick. Do you want me to go?"

"I think that'd be good." Rick says.

"Then just say those two magical words."

"Thank you," Rick says.

Negan laughs, "Don't be ridiculous. Thank you."

As another of the dead makes his way towards our community, Negan says, "Another one. You need our help. Davey, hand me that candlestick over there." The man called Davey hands it over. "You know what I think, Rick? I think we're both gonna come out of this winners. Watch my form!" He cleans out the walker in one swing.

"Ahh. Yep," he turns back to us. "Win-win." He drops the candlestick. "You should clean that up for me for next time. Let's move out!" His men start moving. "Oh, wait." Negan chuckles, turning back around, "How careless of me. You didn't think I was gonna leave Lucille, did ya? I mean, after what she did, why would you want 'er?" He takes the bat back, "Thank you for being so accommodating, friend." I watch as Negan whispers something in Rick's ear.

Then they leave, vehicle after vehicle, the last one taking Daryl away with it.

I stare as Rick closes the gates behind them, and then he approaches Spencer, "Spencer. We took the guns you had in your house. The Saviors wanted ours, all of them. There were two missing from the inventory. They were gonna kill Olivia." Spencer doesn't respond so Rick says his name.

"You went into my house?" Spencer asks.

"They were gonna kill Olivia. Look, I'm not faulting you for having the guns. I did it myself. But the food and liquor?" Rick sighs, "That's 'cause you're small, Spencer. You're weak. You got lucky with the walls. You got lucky with us." Rick starts walking away.

"We should've made a deal with them when we could've." Spencer shouts after Rick. "Oh, yeah, we're so lucky. You've led us all to the Promised Land! Isn't that right, Rick?! Here we are! I guess Glenn and Abraham were lucky, too?"

Rick stops, doesn't turn around and threatens, "You say anything like that again to me, I'll break your jaw, knock your teeth out. You understand? Say yes."

"Yes." Spencer starts walking back.

I follow after Rick to go back to my room.

There's no bed in there anymore, but they left the playpen for Hope.

When Mason walks in holding her, he sits on the floor next to me, "You know why I wanted you to name her Hope?"

I nod, "Because we need hope?"

He shakes his head, "Because you need a reminder to have hope. Ever since this started, when we lost Tonia; you started going on runs alone. When the prison fell and we were reunited, you wouldn't even let me out of this house. You are always so scared of the next bad thing, Mom. Well, this is the worst bad thing that's happened and you don't have any hope. But Hope and I need you to have hope. We need you to be here, to keep us safe."

I nod, "Okay."

[hennessystevens-udaku]

For Everybody

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Summary: This story is what happens when @eriknutinthispoosy wants a fic of Erik cheating and @allhailnjadaka wants some ratchet shit to take place. The First Lady is all type of outta character in this one.

_________________________________

“Aww hell nah, this nigga got me 50 shades of fucked up,” Hennessy exclaimed as she watched the surveillance camera set up in Erik’s room. She never saw the point of them, but he and Charlie insisted, for security purposes. Just when she thought her idiot husband couldn’t get any stupider, he proved her wrong yet again.

“So 9 vaginas ain’t enough for him? His Braille-backed ass had to go get some random bitch from off the street? And his stupid ass brought her in our house?!” The Princess was fuming.

Her eyes widened when the mystery woman, standing at 5’10 with lean sun kissed legs and a face just as gorgeous as any of the other women in the house, walked to the middle of the room and looked directly in the camera. As if she knew it was there...as if she knew someone would be watching.

The time stamp on the recording read last Wednesday, 12:43 pm. That sneaky bastard. Wednesday was the day that all nine wives plus Little Bee wenr to brunch, catching up and bonding in sisterly fellowship. It was few and far between that they were all free at the same time and when those rare moments came they took advantage. Erik was filled in on this brunch at a few of the ladies favorite French bistro a day prior and he took advantage as well.

“Guess this nigga didn’t think we’d catch him.” Ryley’s long matte black nails tapped against the vast mahogany oak desk. She sat beside Henny as her eyes bore into the pretty face on the screen. “Bold one, she is.”

“Very bold.” Henny folded her arms and fell back into her seat. Her brows stitched together and her pouty lips were set in a thin line, emotions etched all over her face. To say she was hurt was an understatement. It hurt her so much she couldn’t produce a single tear.

“Am I not enough? Are we not enough?” her voice was soft and shaky.

“Nah, don’t even think like that sis. That nigga stupid and he gone get what’s coming to him.” A few moments later, Charlie sauntered into Henny’s office looking almost as upset as the other two women. Her usual Charming demeanor had switched to something more cold and devious.

“Henny, I love you, but y’all need to come with me.” Without question, the three women made the short trek to Ryley’s G Wagon and sped towards their shared abode. When they were a safe distance from the greenhouse, Charlie pulled up the surveillance footage on her iPhone X.

“THIS BITCH IS STILL IN MY HOUSE?!”

“I didn’t wanna tell you in your office for the sake of the plants, but yeah she’s still there and is making herself real comfortable.” They both watched as the mystery woman sauntered from room to room, touching and trying on their precious jewels and clothes. Hennessy began to see red. It had been a while since she’d gotten this upset and of course it would be Mr. Stevens-Udaku to bring her inner beast out of retirement.

“Hennessy?” Ryley questioned when she noticed the head brat had become a little too quiet for comfort. She remained silent.

“Henny?” she tried again. Silence.

“Kitana?” Charlie tried. Suddenly, the small woman turned and flashed a sly smile, her rose gold fronts gleaming in the twilight. Her usually happy, doe eyes and turned an eerie black and her whole face was turned into an evil grimace.

“Aww shit!” Ryley and Charlie exclaimed in unison.

--

“N’Jadaka! Bring your crusty ass out here!” Kitana screamed as she, Ryley, and Charlie walked back into The Kompound.

“Wait, what we miss?” Angel questioned, confusion etched all over her face. She and Little Bee were seated on the couch, Princess Nya bouncing happily between them. Kimora and Josephine were in the kitchen baking, while Homie sat comfortably on the counter acting as taste tester. Per usual, Aly’Sha was in her room, probably tired from football practice.

“Mr. Stevens-Udaku isn’t available right now,” the mystery woman called from the grand staircase. “However, I’ll be more than happy to answer whatever questions you may have.”

Everything was silent as all eyes fell on her.

“Ericka,” Kitana snarled.

“Nice to meet you in person, Kitana, I’ve heard so much about you.”

As the two exchanged looks, Kimora emerged from the kitchen.

“I’m glad y’all know of each other and whatnot, but who are you and why you in our house?”

“I’m the woman who just fucked y’all husband. Now since there’s so many of you I’m not sure whose room it was but it was real nice. I was thinking of doing some wandering since Daddy is asleep.”

“Bitch I swear to Jesus, Mary, Joseph and Bast herself, I will drag yo rusty, dusty, crusty, broke back, uneven frontal headass down this entire gahdamn hallway. And trust me, there's a lot of fucking hallway in this big ass house.” Josephine perked up at her tone.

“Aww shit, Demon Henny, yeee!” As the rest of the harem attempted to understand what was going on downstairs, Aly’Sha had heard just enough to take matters into her own hands in regards to the punishment of their husband.

“Aye Nigga! Wake the fuck up!” Aly’sha growled as she shot a hollow point 9mm bullet on the headboard above their husband, who she affectionately referred to as a beginners tutorial for the blind. Her voice echoed from the enormous room. Guess she wasn't too tired from practice.

“Aly'sha…” The beast growled, sitting up slowly. “What the fuck is the matter with you?”

“NAH WHAT THE ABSOLUTE DUMB NIGGA FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!?” Another bullet whizzed past Erik's head and for the first time in a long while, he flinched.

“ALY’SHA I GOT IT!” the small woman screamed upstairs. “I just gotta take care of this bitch first.”

Grumbling to herself, Aly’sha exited the room, putting the gun back in the waist of her shorts. This nigga was really about to die die.

“That must be your little errand girl, hmm?” Erika hissed a giggled as she watched the rage in Kitana’s eyes grow.

Upon hearing all the commotion from her studio, Bastion emerges in her Moschino sweatsuit and fluffy mink slides.

“What in the Christian Louboutin is going on in here?”

“Don’t worry about it babygirl, go back to work. Mama’s just gotta take out some trash.”

“Oh well that means I must stay. That’s one of my specialities. Now who is this woman, why is she in my house and why are there gunshots being fired? I thought we weren't doing firearms in the house after the last time I got too drunk.”

“Because your husband is an idiotic dipshit.” Aly'sha growled, standing behind Kitana as if she was one of Charlie's angels.

“Well I knew that when I married him, but Harpo who dis woman?”

“A dead bitch,” Kitana hissed as she wielded the katana blade that was hidden in the intricately carved bracelet on her wrist. A birthday present from Shuri.

“Has she always had that?” Homie inquired.

“I don’t think I wanna find out,” Kristina said as she carried little Nya away from all of the commotion.

“Care to give me the information on her astronomical indiscretion?” Bastion inquires with a perfectly orchestrated eyebrow raised.

“It’s simple really,” Ericka began to explain. “While the cats were away, Daddy Jaguar decided to play. And who am I to deny the Prince of Wakanda?”

“As I said before, A dead bitch.” Kitana twirling the blade between her nimble fingers as she stared Erika down.

“I’m sorry let me see if I can comprehend this simpleton’s language. So you’re telling me that my husband, who has a plethora of pussy to use and abuse at his discretion, was intimate with you? Of his own free will? As though he wasn’t just shot at for not giving his last wife enough attention? He fucked you freely? Ha! Ok my darling please have yourself admitted to the nearest psychiatric ward. I’ll even recommend a wonderful therapist and even better medication. My mother knows them well.”

Ericka stared her, grin wide as ever but not quite making it to her eyes. They were steely, dark and deep. She’d seen and experienced a lot. It was in the way she moved…spoke. “You’re so entertaining, no wonder he stopped at you. You were the icing on the spoiled ass cake, huh?” She let out a chuckle. “Pipe down, little bitch, before I make you. I’m here to speak with the real wife, the first lady. All you other hoes sit down and watch me defeat your beloved head Princess Hennessy Chiron.”

Her eyes moved back to Kitana, looking over her frame before she met her fiery gaze.

“Let me give you the play by play. First, I took a seat on my new throne, you know those lips you love? Made him hit it from the back then from the side. Asked him what’s your favorite position and then made him look in my eyes while I took all that dick. He promised to make me wifey number twelve.”

Slice. The blade moved so fast no one could process the action. Ericka’s pink peplum blouse was now in shreds at her feet and blood oozed from the long cut across her chest. Before she could react, Kitana had the blade above her head and was bringing it down again, this time digging it into the flesh of her abdomen.

“I’m glad you enjoyed that dick because that’s the last one you’ll ever hop on,” Kitana snarled as she threw her blade down and went straight for Ericka’s neck. What she lacked in height, the small woman definitely made up for in brute strength and speed.

“Damn, she really is the female Erik,” Kimora noted as the two women wrestled in the foyer. Though Henny was much shorter than Ericka, she easily overpowered the outsider.

“No one can dethrone me, bitch,” Hennessy snarled with a sharp jab to Ericka’s face.

Ericka growled, her whole body throbbing. First it was the wound to her chest, causing pain to spread through her body like wildfire. Her tolerance was higher than many. She should’ve been on the floor begging for mercy. Her mission, however, was not done.

“I-I did you one better.” She spoke softly, low but audible enough for Kitana to hear. The venom in her bite had disappeared. “There’s a crack in your foundation. You’re relationship isn’t as perfect as you thought it was. N’Jadaka found ten wives after you and still can’t be loyal. I can’t take your spot but my actions will make you want to give it up.”

Just then the blade appeared from the small of Erika’s back, piercing a few vital organs and killing her instantly. The princess removed her blade and headed for the staircase. The wrath of Hennessy Monaé Chiron Stevens-Udaku had only just begun.

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[nellie-elizabeth]

Supernatural: Moriah (14x20)

Well then! Yeesh!

Cons:

I wish we could do a bit more to sort out this whole Cas vs. Dean thing. Now that we've got bigger fish to fry for next season, it seems like Dean and Cas' pretty intense disagreement will likely be pushed aside in favor of... you know... surviving the end-times. But maybe I'll be pleasantly surprised, and their relationship drama will continue to be a factor as we enter into the final season of this show.

I really, really like the direction this is going, but I can't help but wonder if there were re-writes once the decision was made that Season Fifteen would be the end. It seems to me that several elements of the story, especially the stuff with Lucifer coming back, wound up being scrapped in favor of the ridiculously awesome reveal that Chuck is our final Big Bad. So while this finale on its own kicked some major ass, there were definitely some elements that didn't add up for me in terms of the buildup from the rest of the season.

Pros:

What a smart episode this was, though. Honestly. Usually the finales of Supernatural have to escalate things to some new extreme height so that we know what's coming in the next season. Oh no, we've started the apocalypse! Oh no, all the angels have fallen from Heaven! Oh no, the Darkness has been released! This season is, in some ways, no exception to that. Apparently, God is the villain. And he's done playing nice. While this might seem like just another classic Supernatural power-creep escalation, it's actually something a little different. And I love it. This is an opportunity to pit early show vs. late show against each other, by bringing back old villains, but letting Sam, Dean, and Cas handle it in the way they've learned to do over their many years of being hunters. It's an opportunity for nostalgia while at the same time a chance to focus on the one and only true central theme of Supernatural: free will. Honestly, this show goes all over the place with its plots and messaging, but at the center of it all, from day one, has been the idea of free will, and I love that we're setting up the final season to be a direct reckoning of that theme.

This episode was also a lot more down-to-earth than some other finales we've got. It's very focused - Jack is out there. Dean wants to kill him. Sam admits that killing him is maybe their only option. Cas is not on board. Three different approaches to one big problem. Meanwhile, Jack is trying to do the right thing without a soul to guide his conscience. And then God is there, and we learn once and for all that he truly does view the Winchesters as a story. That they've been puppets all along, dancing for his amusement. The end. I love that a lot of this episode really was just sitting around talking things out, making plans. It felt real, and grounded, in a way that I really appreciate from this show.

Let's talk Dean and Sam for a minute - I loved the scene when Dean said he was going to take the shot at Jack, effectively killing both Jack and himself. They don't even need to have the full conversation, because they've been there so many times before. And Sam says no - he's not going to be okay with a plan that makes him lose Jack and Dean in one fell swoop. He's lost enough as it is. Dean, who has over the last few seasons grown into a person who actually respects his brother's right to make his own decisions, has been having a bit of a relapse on account of Mary's death. He takes the gun and leaves without telling Sam. It's predictable, and frustrating, and it was easy for me to feel Sam's pain.

I love how angry Dean is, how his tight grip on his control seems to be in constant danger of snapping. He loves Sam, he loves Cas, and he loved Jack, but he can't bring himself to process those emotions in a healthy way right now. He needs to be a man on a mission, otherwise he'll fall apart. Jensen is doing such a great job with this. There's the moment in his conversation with Sam where he talks about the fact that God told them that Jack needed to die, so that's the end of the discussion. It's just so Dean to be such a hypocrite about this. Billie tells him that locking himself in a box is the only way to save the world? Cool. He'll do it. God tells him to kill his foster son? Cool. He'll do it. Because Dean Winchester kind of hates himself. And he definitely hates himself for Mary's death. It's just that in this case, he can kill Jack, the person who he outwardly blames, and himself, the person who he blames for everything, in one fell swoop. Yeesh. Poor Dean.

The moment when Dean shows up to kill Jack, and Cas is there and tells Jack to run? I fucking lost my mind. I am so in love with the way they've positioned Dean and Cas on opposite sides of this debate. These are two men who would die for each other - who have died for each other in fact. And in this moment, they are as opposed as they've ever been. Not since Season Six have we seen Cas and Dean at such odds with one another. There's this delicious tension to knowing that Dean is going to kill Jack at any cost, and Cas is going to stop Dean from killing Jack at any cost, and yet the thought of either of these people doing anything to hurt the other is so ludicrous. This is the stuff good drama is made of.

Then there's Sam Winchester, who easily gets MVP from me for this episode. We've seen, from the very early stages of this show when angels were considered an unrealistic fairy-tale, that Sam has always had faith. Maybe he hasn't quite understood the specifics of his own belief, but he's believed in a higher power and he's believed in the essential goodness of that power. We saw the way he behaved with Chuck when they met the last time. He was worshipful. Dean didn't quite understand it, but Sam... even when Sam was annoyed or frustrated with Chuck, he actually believed in him. So the moment when Sam says "hey, Chuck," and shoots God in the shoulder is honestly just... exquisite.

Sam spends this episode trying to contextualize everything that's been happening to them recently - he blames himself for Mary's death, because he's the one who brought Jack back without a soul. He tries to understand why Chuck hasn't been showing up to help them before now. He tries to explain himself to Dean, to make his brother hear him. He tries to reconcile his love for Jack with what Jack has become. And then he picks up a gun and he shoots God, even knowing he'll hurt or even kill himself to do it. And it's not a brave sacrifice play, or a planned moment - it's done in anger, in desperation, in fear. The realization that Chuck doesn't care about them is the biggest betrayal Sam Winchester has ever faced, and that's saying something, given the life he's lead. It's so hugely important to me that Sam is the one to make this move, and not Dean. It represents a breaking point for his character that I cannot wait to see play out next season.

Obviously I figured that Dean wouldn't really kill Jack, but I admire how much tension they still managed to put into that scene, and how, as Cas says "writers lie." The magic gun doesn't kill Jack; Chuck does that directly once he realizes that Dean isn't going to play the little game he's devised. We get this final shot of Sam, Dean, and Cas all standing back to back, ready to fight against the hoard of returned villains that are closing in on them. Cas has the angel blade, but Sam and Dean are practically unarmed, and Sam is bleeding from a gunshot wound to the shoulder. It's bleak, and on top of it all there's Jack's corpse just sitting there, a reminder of their failure.

We see Jack awaken in the Empty, and Billie seems to have plans for him, so now we've got a Billie vs. Chuck situation, with Jack, Cas, and the Winchesters as potential pawns. I am beyond excited to see how this plays out, and where Team Free Will lands in this battle for their own agency.

Before I finish this review, I want to praise the episode for suggesting the apocalyptic scope of Jack's powers. This show has never managed to really convey the way the whole world is affected by the various apocalypse-y type things that have come up over the years. But here we see that Jack's order to "stop lying" actually throws the whole world into chaos. If Chuck had wanted to see that play out, he would have; it's only his ability to reset things that saves the world. We see how people's inability to lie leads to instant resentments and chaos. It's actually a pretty great trope to explore some inter-character drama, so at first I was a little surprised that Sam and Dean didn't accidentally drop any uncomfortable truth bombs on each other when they both lacked the ability to lie. But then I realized - while Sam and Dean are having a rough time because of Mary right now, they are firmly on each other's sides and fighting to preserve their family at all costs. They actually aren't hiding anything from each other, and they haven't been for quite some time.

As a plus, all of this stuff is actually pretty humorous too - I loved the Celine Dion bit, and Dean going on and on about internet gossip, and the guys fighting about yogurt, the newscaster confessing his love, and the not-so-subtle dig at Trump.

Okay. This review is long, but I think that's allowed, given that it's for a finale. I greatly enjoyed it. I thought the smaller scale and the more character-driven story worked in its favor, and I love that everything from the plot to the framing is placing Castiel on equal footing with Sam and Dean as a protagonist for the finale season. I can't wait to see what we get next year! This time in 2020, I'll be sobbing my eyes out as "Carry On Wayward Son" plays over one last montage... it's going to be a wild ride.

9/10