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artbyblastweave · 10 months ago

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hello. I am in the middle of doing My Take on vampires and would appreciate your thoughts on Them in fiction. they don't seem to pop up more than occasionally in superhero media, but also you are pretty widely read & they have noticeable Eras/Tendencies that I can see.

I'm definitely not as much of a vampire guy as I'm a Superhero guy, so all my opinions on vampires should be taken with a grain of salt, and with the knowledge that a lot of this is stuff I've picked up through Osmosis and the occasional lit-review for that one class in college. But here goes-

One of my potentially more controversial takes about Vampires is that I think Vampires (and adjacent creatures like werewolves) are great at capturing the emotional truth of being part of a marginalized group, or sometimes just for being subaltern- the world against you, people make you feel like you're wrong for existing, that you're dangerous, etc.- and this is why they go gangbusters both on this website and in general. But the narrative often faceplants for me if it tries to portray vampires as a literal marginalized group because all of that stuff is often objectively true within the fiction in a way that it isn't true of real-life marginalized groups. It's a souped-up version of the X-men problem, because most of the X-Men aren't obligate cannibals! The result of this is that there have been several times I'm consuming something vampire-related that wants me to primarily sympathize with the vampires, and meanwhile I'm going "geez, that's a rough deal, but I think you all need to be killed on purely utilitarian grounds, sorry."

(I do also get the sense as well, right, that this is inextricably tangled up in the fact that a lot of foundational vampire literature was kind of just taking a lot of the horrible lies people tell about the scapegoat group du jour to justify their oppression and then making a guy of whom these things were objectively true. I get the impression, at a distance, that Dracula demonstrates like fourteen different flavors of "Those Depraved Easterners Are Coming For Our Women," although to truly lock in that Take I'm gonna have to read the thing instead of just absorbing it through Tumblr Osmosis whenever Dracula Daily is running.) There are ways to thread this needle, the big one of which is to just sand down the negative externalities of vampirism. Have them feed on animals or voluntary donors or make the human predation thing an in-universe slanderous fiction to begin with. Have them feed on exclusively on quote-unquote "criminals," if you have the right unexamined assumptions about the validity of the death penalty. Go the Elder Scrolls route, where drinking blood isn't necessary to survive but is necessary to maintain a human appearance, thus ensuring that the most morally conscientious vampires are the ones most likely to be identified as vampires and scapegoated by the angry mob. The issue I sometimes take with this is that the act of implementing a "fix" of any kind can sort of broadcast that you're trying to have your cake and eat it too- that you're cutting away the ideatic core of what makes vampires interesting when divorced from metaphor, taken objectively- that they're living trolley problems. As others have said, if you sand them down too much, what are you getting out of a vampire story that you couldn't get from a Tolkien Elf, or from Batman?

A fictional group which I've never really had this issue with, though, is Zombies, in the Romero tradition. When a work wants to construct Zombies as a primarily sympathetic group, it's much easier for me to get on board with that without feeling like the core Vibe has been compromised. This is because there's actually a fairly recent source text for zombies in the form of Romero's Living Dead films, and a major component of the Living Dead films is how much it sucks without recourse to become a zombie.

I was working on a post once, which I never finished, about how there are like, three-to-four vectors of horror that zombies can embody, which different works play up to different extents. While obviously one of the big straightforward ones is the fear that your entire community starts trying to kill you and eat you one day for basically no reason, a major anxiety on display in the original Living Dead trilogy- Dawn in particular- is that in the face of a weird but manageable problem human society would act as its own condemnation, totally failing to rise to the challenge-the horror is that we would let something as inept as a zombie be dangerous to us! Also present in those films? The horror of the idea that your daily routine is so rote and conformist that you wouldn't need to be sentient to continue to carry it out- that the biggest difference between you and them is that you can occasionally be evil in more interesting and evolved ways. And there's this fear of physically and mental degradation with zombies, which for a host of reasons I find extremely fucking relatable. The sense that your body is falling apart piecemeal, bits of you sloughing off when you turn the wrong way or turn your head too quickly. There's this fog over your thinking. The bone-deep knowledge that you used to be more, and are now fundamentally less capable- that there's just enough of you left to understand something is missing. (Read into my personal circumstances whatever you want from this.) Being a zombie is foundationally, fundamentally gross in a way that being a vampire isn't; when people try to do "sexy zombies" half the joke is the pairing of those two words. There's this horror comic Kieth Giffen did once called Tag which is basically entirely about the horror of being a corpse that could feel it; I think about that comic a lot. Anyway, because so much of the horror of zombism is external to whether they're actually attacking and killing people or not, you can totally sell me on zombies as an unfairly-maligned demographic in a way that's much harder for me to buy with Vampires- dropping the danger they pose to other people allows you to maintain so much more of the core of the thing than it does with Vampires, where it feels much more like you're tip-toeing around the tensions between Wanting To Have Fun and the moral horror inherent to what you're trying to have fun with.

#sorry for hijacking your ask to talk about zombies!#not sorry enough to not do it obviously #ask #thoughts #meta #vampires #zombies #untitled zombie project #night of the living dead

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munsonownsmyass · 1 year ago

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Matthias Helvar x reader

Notes: I got tagged in this post and well... It inspired me. Thanks for the inspo @theradioactivespidergwen 😆🩷

It's just a silly little something. Unbeta'ed, unedited. First thing I've written in months. Enjoy 🤣

Warnings: None, really. Unless you don't like werewolves... Or women who like werewolves. Some fluff, a boy too big for his furry body, a little spice.

Words: under 1k

With a heavy sigh, you turn the car off and stare into the darkness. Already so dark. You loved this time of year, sure, but not getting home until it was already dark could be so depressing. The only real light was the moonlight, bathing your small cabin in a pale glow.

Grabbing all your stuff, you get out of the car, slowly making your way to the front door. You really couldn’t wait to just relax. Maybe take a hot bath? Wash the day off. Have a nice dinner. But walking in, you realize that’s not going to happen.

Right in front of you, crouching so he doesn’t hit the ceiling, is your boyfriend. Correction, the furrier version of your boyfriend. It dawns on you that it’s a full moon tonight.

“Matthias, what have I told you about shifting indoors?” You sigh as you take the coat off. The big wolf turns, knocking over a lamp with his tail. “Matthias!”

“Sorry.” The voice still throws you off sometimes, so much deeper and gritty compared to his normal warm and smooth voice. You didn’t mind it, though.

It’s almost comical watching this huge mass of a wolf lean down to pick up the lamp, trying to maneuver his claws delicately on the shade, trying to get it back on. Matthias was a big guy even in his human form, but as a wolf? Big. Intimidating. Hot, honestly.

You take pity on him and walk over, taking the lamp from him. As you do, you feel his eyes on you. That’s when you hear it. A soft thud thud thud. Looking around his side, you see his tail wagging, hitting the couch with every swing.

“Someone’s happy.” You say, unable to stop smiling yourself.

“Happy because you’re here.” He says, his tone soft as his paw comes to rest on your cheek. Leaning down, his nose nudges at your other cheek, inhaling your scent before placing a soft lick on your neck. So far, Matthias has barely touched you in his wolf form, fearing he couldn’t control himself around you. That he’d end up hurting you. The touches had been fleeting, barely there. Yet, every time, it would set you on fire.

You knew he could tell. How he could hear your heart speed up, your pulse quickening. The swallow, strained breathing followed by a tiny gasp at the roughness of his tongue on your delicate skin. The scent of your arousal in the air.

His paw gently falls from your face as he steps away, his eyes averting yours. He can’t hide his desire for you either, despite his best efforts. The giant paws do a poor job covering his erection and he looks away ashamed. Instead of telling him again that he has no need to feel embarrassed, you walk to the kitchen with your groceries to give him some space.

“I bought us some nice steaks. Big one for you, of course.” You look over your shoulder with a wink before pulling more stuff out of the bag. “And waffles for the dessert.”

You turn around to look at him, seeing a wide smile on his face. Even though he’s 7 feet tall, broader than any man and covered in dark fur, his smile always makes you think of a Golden Retriever puppy. You’re pretty sure Matthias is the only werewolf pulling of looking this cute.

Just as you’re about to say some more, a loud thud fills the air. His wagging tail has brushed one of your books off the coffee table. When he moves to pick it up, he almost knocks a plant over. You don’t even have it in you to get mad, seeing how adorable he is, holding the book to his chest in one hand and balancing the plant in the other.

“No more shifting in the house.” He agrees, putting the stuff back as you make your way around the kitchen counter to him.

“Well… there is one room where you can’t really knock anything over.” You softly, your tone flirty as you run your fingers through the soft fur on his chest. He’s probably going to say no. He’s done so every other time. But maybe… today could be your lucky day.

“But… Min hajefetla, I-”

“You won’t hurt me.” The plea in your voice clear as one hand slowly makes its way down his abs, feeling every ridge of his hard body. Wrapping your hand around his sheath, you look into his eyes. “Please.”

With a snarl, he pick you up in his arms, making his way down the hall to the bedroom. When his eyes find yours, they’re dark with desire, his tongue coming out to lick his snout. “If you end up bruised, remember you asked for this, min trassel.”

Tagging: @e-dubbc11 @mindidjarin @itwasthereaminuteago @hlkwrites @pedrito-friskito @mattmurdocksscars @murdock-and-the-sea

#werewolf matthias helvar #matthias helvar #matthias helvar fanfiction #matthias helvar x reader #monster boyfriend

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laurasimonsdaughter · 2 years ago

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Hello…! I came across some of your posts on Urban Fantasy Vampire- Werewolf stuff (such a fun idea!) and I was interested. So anyways I have to ask, what are your rules for how they work? I tried finding them myself but I couldn’t find much specifically. Could you help me out here please?

Oh dear, rules... I write vampires and werewolves so much and I write them so often that I don't really have one set of worldbuilding rules for them. One of the fun things is to re-imagine them to suit their particular story! There is so much folklore and fantasy history to draw from you can write both werewolves and vampires with incredible variety and they'll still feel recognizable!

But if I look at all my writing the most reoccurring elements are probably:

My vampires usually...

Don't have to kill the people they feed from. (Because it's sad and impractical.)

Can also feed on animals, but it makes them a little weaker and it probably doesn't taste as good.

Get very overwhelmed drinking from certain humans, other vampires, or people like werewolves, because the blood tastes different or there is something Special about it that makes them drunk, clingy or whatever I like them to be :)

Can share some of their magical healing with humans by feeding them their own blood. (Because it makes everything much, much easier.)

Are severely damaged or outright killed by (direct) sunlight, because they can't be too powerful, but don't automatically go completely unconscious during the day.

Are vampires because they were intentionally turned by another vampire, not because they died in a certain way or were only bitten.

Are not harmed by religious symbols, simply because I'm not very comfortable writing about religious faith.

My werewolves usually...

Can't transform at will, but do not only transform during the full moon. Meaning they either get toothier and hairier the closer it gets to full moon, or it's very tied to their emotions and they get sharp teeth or change eye colour when they lose their cool or act on instinct.

Sometimes struggle with being a werewolf but don't hate being a werewolf and don't turn into uncontrolled monsters when they turn. (That's a great narrative element if you write tragedy or darker fiction, but that's not my jam.)

Can be very dangerous, but generally don't kill people and are more likely to eat a lot of rare steak before the full moon than to hunt living animals once transformed.

Are physically complete wolves as long as the full moon is in the night's sky. (Doesn't matter if the moon is behind the clouds.) They might keep their full human reasoning and be able to do things a normal wold never could, but they do not walk on their hind legs, don't use their paws as hands and cannot talk.

Are harmed specifically by silver, but are not invincible to everything else, even though they are very strong, have a high pain threshold and heal quickly.

Are werewolves because they were born that way, not because they were bitten. (Cause that's sad. And I prefer having big happy werewolf families.)

#I hope this is what you meant by 'rules'!#fenrisshadow #thank you for the follow and the kind words glad to have you here!#ask answered #laura babbles #vampires #werewolves #urban fantasy

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sol-draws-sometimes · 1 year ago

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Disc World bookclub thoughts- Monstrous Regiment

Pages 20-28

Hey @anna-neko ! Did I miss last week… yes. BUT JUST BECAUSE I MISS ONE WEEK DOESN’T MEAN I JUST ABANDON THIS. Look, finals are the week, so these past few weeks have been alot… also I’ve been hyperfocusing on dnd(stares in adhd). I’ve barely read but that’s alright. Once finals are over, I’m going on a roadtrip, so I should have time to read when we’re driving(unless I catch up on critical role…we’ll see).

It’s so late and I’m literally way too tired for nuance. With expectations set, Lets go

“Ankh-Morpork is a godawful city,” he said. “Poisonous, just like its river. Barely fit for humans now, they let everything in—zombies, werewolves, dwarfs, vampires, trolls—“

Something something we live in a society. Cue family talking about how NYC is corrupting the youth or something 🙃. Tbh, insert any big progressive city, and it should work for most of them.

A lot of good stuff in this page(and the next few ones)

1. Something Something colonialism bad. They[Borogravia] are the bad guys here🏃🏃🏃

2. Cool POV stuff coming back. Especially with the song and what not

3. Damn Strappi’s certainly something

4. I hate nationalism. The line b/w patriotism and nationalism is real hard sometimes. I mean, something something, true patriotism is knowing how your country’s fucked, and wanting to it be better. You fight for change cause you love it, and that is way more patriotic than just blinding fighting for country and defending it, even when it is in the wrong.

5. Uggh, the national anthem. Yes the flag thing is an actual thing we do in US. And certain teachers DO loss their shit if you don’t stand up/sing. Look, it’s not like I’m trying to disregard veterans, it’s just… weird and indoctrinationy. Plus, they added, “Under God,” during the cold war so, that feels even more insidious.

6. Poor Wazzer man. I’m glad he rebels in his own small way. Small acts of rebellion are still rebellious.

7. Learning new phrases! I figured due to context clues, but it’s always good to check.

Literally this conversation is literally my fucking thoughts

Uuuuh. War bad! Look. See!

“Well, I’m not buying into it. It’s all trickery. They keep you down and when they piss off some other country, you have to fight for them! It’s only your country when they want you to get killed!” said Tonker.”

Tonker. King Behavior!

And just as they’re going to sleep, so am I.

Fuck this book is good!

Here’s another quote good night!

It’s all lies, she thought muzzily. Some of them are just prettier than others, that’s all. People see what they think is there. Even I’m a lie. But I’m getting away with it.

Ps: I realized last time I stopped at pg 20 but wrote 60… my bad.(should be fixed now tho)

I will add ID text some other date cause I don't have the mental energy rn. I just did, scan text, and copy pasted it into alt w/out checking. If someone besides Anna finds this post and wants them, just @ me in the comment and I'll @ you when I finish this.

First | <-Previous | Next->

#monstrous regiment #discworld #disc world #terry pratchett #book club #sol talks #my post

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darkcrowprincess · 11 months ago

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Oh my God ?! Are you team Jacob for Twilight ?! So then ! I have to say that I have nothing against the canon ships of this saga. (Yes even the very controversial Jacob & Renesme. I generally put my brain in off mode for that by telling myself that SM as a mother herself must not have thought about it very deeply) And I must say that I always been team Edward, even still technically today. But I'm no longer an enthusiast at all because the flaws in the story are now staring me in the face. And even if I'm not crazy about Jacob & Bella either and hated it when I was younger, I have to say that today I totally understand why we would love these two together. BUT ABOVE ALL ! Damn, I have a huge crush on Jacob in the second film... Like the actor, after gaining muscle, had a wow effect on me and I've always liked guys with beautiful, long, well-maintained hair. And Jacob was just magnificent in the second movie. Even his behavior towards Bella was adorable. Beyond that, I still say it today that if I had been Bella... Even if I am very fascinated by vampires... Damn I would have been with Jacob. Also... Damn the heat he must give off ! As a big chill person, this totally appeals to me ! And the wolf shape is so awesome and impressive ! When I watch the films again I admit I don't understand why Bella prefers to freeze to death with Edward. Also, I realized growing up that when Edward talks... I sometimes want to make him shut up because it can be so corny and annoying.

I am not a fan of twilight. I only read up to eclipse and stopped reading the books after that. I've seen the movies but mostly find them boring except the last two. Saying that, I do find the secondary characters and background characters more interesting than Bella and Exward. Everything is more interesting than Bella and Edward. I especially hate Bella. Book version of her more than anything. She is a very annoying, boring, selfish person. Just every thought in her head makes me want to slap her.

Twilight Vampires freak me out and are way too over powered. For the most part I don't like Stephanie Meyers. You can tell she is a Mormon white woman with how she writes. I do love Jacob and the werewolves though. Jacob in general is my sunshine boy and he deserves happiness and I hate Bella or leading him on. I feel so bad for his tribe and what these selfish Vampires constantly do to them and their land. I especially hate the books and movies for the bad reputation they give to classical novels and plays. Especially romeo and juliet. Twilight has nothing to do with romeo and juliet. And there are no parallels or comparisons between them. If Stephanie Meyers wanted to do that, the should have made Edward and Jacob fall love than if anything.

If I had to choose werewolves no question. Not only are they cute looking and badass. But they're warm and human still for the most part. Twilight Vampires are stone cold statues that are ment to look beautiful. They don't live. They don't sleep, they don't eat, sex would eventually get boring because their never tired, and any second now they can lose control from hunger of human blood and kill everyone, plus animal blood never satisfies them! So honestly what joy comes from being a vampire in this universe?! Bella is just so stupid for picking this life and Edward.

I had a huge crush on Taylor Launter as a kid. Had a poster of him on the wall of my bedroom ceiling. Though I also cried when him and Taylor Swift broke up and listened to 'Back to December' a million times.

Edward I find so boring too. Mostly I hate how he treats Bella more like a pet/child. While reading the books it annoyed me so much how he wouldn't fuck her or kiss her in a hot way. His romance with Bella and his reasons for holding back were stupid and boring. Though when he left in New Moon. I hated him. After everything they been through he's just going to abandon her just like that. Moron. The whole save your soul thing I did not understand because I wasn't really religious so I did not get it. Now though I still find it stupid and I'm constantly reminded that Stephanie is Mormon. The whole book I'm constantly reminded that Stephanie is a white female Mormon. She grew up as one and your constantly reminded of that in the book and it freaks me out.

(Don't like don't read. Post hate and I'll block you)

#my thoughts #team jacob #jacob black #anti Stephanie Meyers #anti twilight saga #books

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jankwritten · 2 years ago

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the title of "This Was A Home Once" compels me, what is it about???

OUGH THAT ONE IS SO FUN!!!!!!

Okay so in 2022 I had this really big cryptid/supernatural creatures phase and started a bunch of stories involving it, and This Was a Home Once was one of those.

Nico, just graduated from high school, is still living in his small home town with his father. He feels like he's aimless and drifting, as most people in his situation do, and so the only thing he can think to do is bury himself in what he knows: the supernatural.

He runs a blog wherein he documents all kinds of cryptids and shit that he sees or thinks he has evidence of, and he's made friends with a bunch of people online through it - two of them are Annabeth and Frank, not that he really knows that.

So one evening, he's hanging around outside the local haunted Walgreens waiting for one of his online friends to show up so they can go hunting for snallygaster scales in the woods. Who he assumes is his friend shows up - a guy named Jason, who's a little quieter than Nico was expecting, and more confused, but that's alright.

They trek out into the woods together. It's quiet, quieter than it should be, but Nico just assumes that means that what they're hunting for is out there, they just have to be extra cautious.

They're in the heart of the woods when Jason asks what it is they're looking for again, and Nico realizes that Jason is not the person he was supposed to meet, and freaks out.

(the title "This Was a Home Once" was, I think, in reference to how Nico no longer really felt at home in his hometown but didn't really know how to move on or where to go, which is what sparked the whole plot into motion)

That's as far as I got in actually writing it, but there was a TON more that I was super excited to plan out:

Percy, Piper, Leo, and Hazel were all supposed to be big parts of the plot - I was aiming for a small-town situation wherein the POV kind of hops around to Percy and Piper, who would've seen some of Nico's actions out of context and whatnot since they all went to school together etc. etc. Percy and Nico are basically the only pure humans in the whole story, and while Nico believes in the paranormal and everything, Percy doesn't.

Percy, however, is also friends with Annabeth (but he knows her IRL whereas Nico only knows her online, so they don't realize they both know her) and so sometimes he hears her rants about stuff that he just nods and smiles along to. The vibes for him in this story were going to be akin to Steve Harrington from Stranger Things - he's kind of just dragged along for the ride by accident, and becomes an integral part of the group only because he keeps showing up whenever shit is going down.

Piper's side was what I was REALLY interested in, though, because she's got a lot of secrets. The main plot relevant one was the stray dog she'd rescued from the edge of the woods, a stray dog that she kept hidden in her shed from her parents and whatnot, nursed it back to health and made sure it got food and water - which turns out to be Leo the Hellhound.

Obviously in this story I was taking MANY liberties with myth lore and stuff like that, so in this case, a hellhound was a hunter released onto earth to hunt down escaped Spirits or otherwise undead creatures. Kind of like the whole werewolves despising vampires thing, except for hellhounds it's their job, their innate purpose and whatnot, to hunt down things that belong in the underworld. Leo had come to town the same night Jason did because, surprise surprise, Jason is a vampire.

There was going to be a whole Thing about Jason's colony under Thalia seeking shelter in Nico's little town from Jupiter, their original sire who was a little power hungry. Thalia didn't agree w him or his methods and split her little troupe off from the Main Colony, but then ofc the sudden presence of superntural creatures in the town brought More Shit To Town and that was going to be like, the Big Plot, was a showdown between Jupiter and all of the rag-tag supernatural creatures and humans and whoever else showed up to protect their new Haven.

OKAY I could continue to go on and on because i love this story so much (I should start working on it again omfg) but I'll leave that there HEHEHE

#asks!#wip game #thank you so much for asking abt this story genuinely I love talking about it soooo much #pjo #THERE IS SO MUCH THAT I WANTED TO DO WITH THIS MAN!!!! Mars even drew some art for it HRNGH i gotta track more info down

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bylertruther · 2 years ago

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Byler fanfiction.... Mike or Will?

Which one is the vampire?

Which one is the werewolf?

Which one is royalty?

Which one works at the coffee shop?

Which one is the florist and which one is the tattoo artist?

Which one is the tutor?

Which one offers to teach the other how to kiss?

Which one gets too drunk at the party?

Which one doesn't want to play Spin the Bottle?

OMG I LOVE THIS. I HAVE MANY, MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS.

Which one is the vampire?

mike looks like a vampire, but i'm a vampire!will truther forever and ever. he deserves at least one life where he’s allowed to feast.

consider: vampirism as a metaphor for homosexuality (as all monsterhood and "otherness" can be). they're both hungry, shackled by a shared undying thirst: for blood, for connection, for love. vampirism as a metaphor, because you can try to kill me, but i will live on anyway; because you can cast me to the shadows, but still i will build a life for myself there; because all of your fearmongering stories tell you to be afraid of me, but you cannot help but be captivated, intrigued, and envious of my defiance of your order. vampirism as a metaphor, because all i do is want and that want is forbidden.

will knows this, has never had the pleasure of not knowing this: he was damned from the start and later turned against his will. mike is human, warm, brave, and utterly, pathetically transfixed by him. it matters not that his blood runs hot and his heart thunders on—he feels that same ache, that same hollowing-out hunger that eats at him from the inside out. it's a story about restraint and want and shame and indulgence; about love, everlasting and true, a flame that cannot be snuffed out; about a life to be found only in death that is no true death.

vibes for vampire!will and (currently) human!mike: “you will always be fond of me. i represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.” + "monsters come in all shapes and sizes. […] sometimes monsters are things people should be scared of, but they aren't." + "it's easy to be yourself in the dark." + "what you don't understand," she said to me once when i told her how dangerous it was, "is that i am the thing in the dark." + "i need you to be a monster, which is to say, i am trying not to love you, which is to say, i am still dreaming of kissing your claws."

Which one is the werewolf?

mike! he's the moon to will's sun after all. consider: lycanthropy as a metaphor for internalized homophobia. it's something that roils inside him and bubbles over when provoked. something that he carries within him like a second skin, hidden away. he fears intimacy because he’s never experienced it. he fears getting close because he doesn't want to hurt anyone or get hurt himself. he turns under the moon in the dead of night, because it's only in the darkness that he can be who he really is. he doesn't want anyone to see him for what he is. he doesn't want to be a monster, but he is, isn't he? that's what everyone says: that werewolves are unclean and unnatural. no matter what he does, no matter how hard he tries—and, god, does he try—he will always be this.

when he turns, he's big and black with surprisingly soft fur and the same deep, dark eyes he's always had. will is the first person he willingly shows. he runs his hand down mike's side, combing his fingers through his fur with unbridled wonder in his eyes. he caresses his large cheek, smooths the space between his eyes that human mike is always furrowing, and can't help himself from petting his twitching ears, too. no one has ever touched mike like this in either form: with such delicacy and reverence, like he’s a creature to admire and behold. he searches those hazel eyes and finds a world previously unknown to him: one of warmth that doesn’t scald, of love that doesn’t fetter, and acceptance free of stipulation. at that, something within mike shifts.

he bows his head and melts into it—into will, and his sweet, open palms that will not hurt him. will, who doesn't look away and feels no fear. this is mike—his mike—and he loves him now as he always has and he always will. he is no monster; no, he's his heart, his loyal protector, and the most beautiful person will has ever known. he presses a kiss to mike's bowed head, and whispers it into his fur and the night air between them, again and again and again—i love you, i know you, i love you so much, i love you now and always—however many times until he knows it and believes it, too. he is beautiful, he is loved, and he is no monster. he's only mike. his caring, brave, and intelligent mike. his loving, tempestuous, and doughty mike who has had to be strong for so very long. will gives and gives and gives, and for once... mike allows himself to take.

they stay like that for a time: gentle hands carding through dark fur, proving to him with every stroke and scratch that he is good and worthy and wanted; lips peppering his head and paws with a litany of kisses, paused only by will’s sputtering and giggles at the fur sticking to his pout, and the exaggerated groans and squirms of protest when mike returns his affections with kisses of his own. will inevitably nods off while “resting his eyes” and mike curls around him as they wait for the sun to rise. when he returns, trembling and weak and unbound by will’s mercy, will is quick to wrap him in one of the blankets they brought and hold him close.

it's about a boy that becomes a wolf, yes; but, more than that, it's about acceptance, about unlearning shame and the rage and grief it bears, about allowing yourself to be seen and witnessed, and about accepting that which you cannot control. mike deserves to learn that he’s worthy and loved just the way that he is.

werewolf!mike vibes: “[the monsters]; you won’t encounter them unless you stow them away inside your soul, unless your soul sets them up before you.” + rage and tenderness existing simultaneously in the same body + "i fear i will be ripped open and found unsightly." + "who hasn’t ever wondered: am i monster or is this what it means to be a person?”

Which one is royalty?

grrrr. mike is canonically a suburban rich boy and he'd look dashing in regal attire. that makes him the easy choice, especially with his canon arc of being forced to grow up and conform, too, but... he's also a paladin and i kind of really like the idea of him swearing an oath of fealty to prince william and being his personal kingsguard, so.. either or! i've no preference heh.

Which one works at the coffee shop?

barista!mike just feels Right. him coming home smelling like coffee, plastering on the most fake and passive aggressive customer service persona ever at work, wearing an apron, and bringing will treats is everything to me. i am, however, also partial to those AUs where el owns a cafe-bakery, will works there, and mike is a writer that drops by often because will may or may not be his muse for the project he’d been previously stuck on.

Which one is the florist and which one is the tattoo artist?

i like will for both! they’re both rather artsy, careful pursuits and he’s an artsy, careful kind of guy! also, picture will giving mike a flower and telling him it reminded him of him. mike would gay panic so hard he’d short-circuit and die lmao.

Which one is the tutor?

mike. he's a physics and math tutor. will asks for his help with algebra and mike tells him they got this. mike massages will’s hand when he whines about all the writing they’re doing, helps him take better notes, and uses the will voice when he sees he’s getting frustrated with himself. will doodles mini cartoon versions of mike on his scrap paper then tears them off for him as a token of his appreciation, shares el’s cookies with him, and uses his puppy-dog eyes to try and weasel the answers out of him. mike keeps every doodle and resists his wicked tricks (which is no easy feat, he says) only because he genuinely wants will to pass. they sit so close that will can feel the heat coming off of mike and mike has to grip his own biceps to keep from making up any excuse to touch will. despite the endless distraction that is mike’s very existence, will manages to pass because mike makes him feel smart and capable. will blushes and stammers his way through inviting mike to a celebratory lunch and gulps when mike, who has been impatiently waiting for the semester to be over so they can be more than friends-who-are-not-just-friends without his supervisor giving him A Look, positively beams at him with a smile reserved for his eyes only and accepts, saying he was just about to ask him out on a movie date himself.

Which one offers to teach the other how to kiss?

it depends. mike is the first to kiss someone, so he offers to teach will how to kiss when he learns he still hasn’t done it (and he tries to ignore and swallow down the pride that swells in his chest after, knowing he’s will’s first). conversely, mike begrudgingly tells will one day that his date told him he isn't a good kisser (it's not true; he's just not interested), so will offers to teach him his tricks. it turns out he’s a very good teacher, but mike claims to be a slow learner, so he may be in need of some more lessons, please, mr. byers.

Which one gets too drunk at the party?

will, but it was an accident. he either forgot that he took a klonopin or spaced it out wrong and now that “pure fuel” is hitting a little too hard. he’s not a sloppy drunk, thank god, but he is very affectionate and smiley to the point that his cheeks hurt. mike kisses his rosy face, tells him he looks like a cute chipmunk, and takes him home.

Which one doesn't want to play Spin the Bottle?

mike. absolutely not. he shuts that shit down with his signature grimace and overreaction, and slings his arm over will’s shoulders, leaving them both like: 😠 and 😳. it's too messy! and scary. and it makes his tummy feel weird. he doesn't want to kiss will (that's not true. he does want to kiss him. maybe even [definitely] a little too much. not that it matters anyway, he already knows will doesn’t feel the same way. [which is rich, considering will is blushing cherry-red beneath his arm and instinctively wrapping his around mike’s waist in turn.]) and he doesn't want anyone else to kiss him either. has the same energy as him barking and biting at dustin when he tried to help will up on halloween night. that's his will. back off and no touchy or kissy! 😡 mike steers them away with a scoff and his signature, “c’mon, will,” as if he wouldn’t follow him anywhere. once they’re alone, will cheekily asks him what all that was about and has to bite down on his amused and all-too-satisfied smile when mike starts sputtering and stammers out some shitty, see-through non-excuse. will hums, mike tells him to shut up, and will, feeling bold and brave enough for them both, tells him to make him.

#byler #byler hc #byler au #ideas #mine #asks #>:)#long post #no read more bc i'm evil. U Will See My Poaste Boy #small text bc i tried to make this big post smaller. hashtag in my philanthropy era

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xosogo · 2 years ago

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I think a lot of fans are too harsh on Addison's character and label her as "a privileged girl who wants to be oppressed".

Buuut... I don't think that's the way to analyze her. Let me tell you about:

Neurodivergency and body dysmorphia:

[SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE "ZOMBIES" SAGA, SPECIALLY "ZOMBIES 3"]

First of all, at the begining of the saga, there are two things Addison hasn't been aware of during her entire life:

She is an alien.

Her mother has white hair like her (and she is also an alien).

Her mom didn't tell her anything! She knew the implications of having white hair and the actual reason to be shunned because of it, but Addison didn't. It doesn't matter if you're conventionally attractive or even "normal": When someone constantly reminds you that a body part of yours is an oddity, that you should hide it, and no one else looks like you... You end up developing body dysmorphia.

Also, not only do they live in a town where everyone dresses with only 2 or 3 colors and only serve 1 kind of ice cream, Addison wants to be a cheerleader, a highly aesthetically demanding hobby (and sometimes even arbitrary when deciding who's in and who's out). Of course she would be worried about being an oddity!! Her hair is not "super blonde". She doesn't even look like she is aging fast, nor like an albino person. Her hair is literally NUCLEAR WHITE.

That's why she simphatizes with Zed and the other zombies. Hell, even Zed suffers body dysmorphia at some points of the saga! The whole pretending to be human thing? In TWO movies? C'mon... That's why she makes such a big deal about both of them hiding their true identity: Society should not expect that from them (and it was physically hurting Zed).

That's also why she inmediatly felt welcomed amogst the werewolves: Not only did they live free of society's expectations, they also kinda looked like her with their white strands of hair, AND there was a prophecy about her. Finally, Addison found a reason to justify her physical oddity. That's why representation is important: We need to feel like we belong somewhere, that our bodies are nothing to be ashamed of!!

But Addison was not a werewolf, so she went back to square one... And then, the aliens appear.

Let's talk about the aliens: Not only do they look different than the rest of species, they also feel and act differently. Their social interactions are "weird and awkward", their methods and achievements are out of the ordinary, and they are looking for a perfect place specifically tailored for them, perfect to satisfy their unusual needs. You know, almost like neurodivergent and disabled people do??

Addison's problem isn't quite the same... Because she grew up on earth and learnt to adapt "the hard way" (ding-dong-ding-dong, MASKING *jazz hands). But she definitely felt a connection to them when she saw them arrive to earth, she was pracically hypnotized by the mothership.

And yes, she belongs with them!! Her hair turns blue once she accepts that fact (a canon AND methaphorical way to represent and improvement of her mental and physical health, *wink, wink*). And they end up living on earth because the point isn't creating a separated space for disabled people to live in: The point is for society to embrace them and stablish new mechanisms to make their lives easier and allow them to adapt.

This is obviously just a theory of mine, of course, and you don't have to think like me, but... I just love the idea of Addison and the aliens representating those ideas.

#Addison #Zed #Disney #ZOMBIES #werewolves #aliens

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rowanmgrey-author · 6 months ago

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Thanks for the tag @dyrewrites!

Rules: look back on your work, both past and present, finished and unfinished. What are five to ten narrative elements or tropes that continuously pop up in your work? Give a list of these things!

Here are mine: 10 themes and tropes

Found Family - My favorite trope to read and write. Found family appeals to me (and I imagine most people) if they have experienced trauma within their family life, especially as kids, and wished they had different parents or siblings etc. I definitely wished I had different parents (and grandparents for that matter) not that I hated them, just that they are the cause of a lot of trauma. So, that would explain why most of my characters also have complicated familial relationships (I'm looking at you Jackal...)

Duality - All of my werewolves and demons are metaphors for duality. I cope with this on a daily basis, so the shapeshifting creatures in my stories are a way to talk about that in a way I think a lot of people would relate to. The duality of self, struggling to keep the sides of yourself from fighting, and understanding what those sides are and how to use them. It's something that Ari and Eron have the hardest time with.

Grief/loss - I have dealt with a few losses and many of my family members have long since passed, but mostly I have witnessed a lot of loss and have watched it harm the people I love. So, I feel strongly about discussing it in my work, shedding a light on how hard it is, and every way it can bring a person down. And how you can overcome that with support from the people around you, and most often, time.

War (both literal & internal struggles) - War in the literal and obvious is something I have no personal experience with. Film and books don't compare to the realities of war, but growing up in a violent supremacist country that seems to get involved in every conflict it can, I do have some knowledge of war. I am antiwar. Why then does it seem to be in everything I write? I am fascinated by it, mostly because it's something that humans and always done and continue to do. War in my stories is usually just a way to talk about the violence of humanity, the way we choose to fight instead of find a common ground. The Shroud will focus much more on large scale war, and The Wild Ones will have smaller battles and political struggles.

Morality - both questions about it and the struggle to maintain it. Each of my characters have different ideas about morality and struggle to weigh it against their lives and enemies.

Trauma - experiencing it, struggling with it and overcoming it. Every single one of my characters is dealing with some form of trauma. Of course, this is something I have and still do struggle with, and my writing is a kind of therapy for me.

Revenge/justice - I have always found revenge and it's counterpart justice to be such an interesting psychological theme. It's always great to see different versions and outcomes to those kinds of stories..

Deception/betrayal - deception on a small scale, something more personal is usually how I write this theme, but I have also written lies told on a larger scale. I enjoy pulling the rug out from under my characters sometimes. And like most of my tropes, this does directly relate to my life experiences. I grew up with a textbook narcissist for a parent, so being lied to and manipulated was part of my daily life as a kid.

Mystery/conspiracy - I love a good mystery element, and bonus points if there is a big supernatural mystery or a political conspiracy. I will always include these tropes because they are so fun to write.

Body Horror - Lots and lots. I have a love hate relationship with body horror and yet it makes it's way in to all of my work. I will leave you to speculate on why that is ><

Thumbprint Challenge

Thanks to @kaylinalexanderbooks for this one.

I am tagging @rowanmgrey-author and @starbuds-and-rosedust and @aziz-reads -- because I am not suffering through figuring this out alone and maybe you guys will find it fun ^.-

Rules: look back on your work, both past and present, finished and unfinished. What are five to ten narrative elements or tropes that continuously pop up in your work? Give a list of these things!

I am terrible at picking out tropes, so I'm not sure on tropes. However, narrative elements I know...kind of. So let's find out together what I have going on.

->under cut because long<-

Isolation -- Whether the story is told in isolation, with the character alone and detached, or they simply feel that way and it drives them through the plot. It seems my biggest element throughout. Someone is always lonely enough to do basically anything to not be.

Family -- Sometimes a natural relation, often it is escaping said relation, but largely it is a case of finding or forging one's own. It pops up a lot.

Love -- Not necessarily romance, or searching for it, but someone is always either in love, searching for it, mourning its loss, or staunchly fighting against it (in the case of one not yet written). This is all types of love, mind, but I've noticed the emotion itself does crop up frequently.

Loss -- Every single one of my characters appears to have lost someone important to them, if not before the story begins then during. I apparently enjoy giving them something to love, something they care more for than life, more than themselves, something they cannot live without...only to tear it from their fingers and force them to.

Shadow and Light -- I have a few that are expressly about shadows and light, wherein living shadows exist and light is a fearsome and dangerous thing. However, I mean this more metaphorically. There's a lot of darkness and light in my stories, and rarely in expected ways for what those words are typically associated with. I think it goes back to the isolation bit, but I can't be sure. Darkness is safety as much as danger, light danger as much as comfort. It's in a lot and I'm not entirely certain where it comes from...but it's there so it's here.

Color -- Everything, quite literally everything, that I've written is drowned in color. I can't help it. Might be the artist part of me, or being raised by one, I dunno. But if you come out of something I've written not knowing what color the sky is, or the light, or the eyes of at least one character...I probably didn't write it.

Power at a Cost/Under-Powered -- I'm mixing these together, as they relate. Even those billed as being big and scary and capable...aren't. They're the least skilled of whatever they're doing. I like strong, scary characters, but I also like to make sure they never think they are. So if they get too big, they get smacked down. I'm not entirely sure why, might just be something I like reading/watching so it's what I write? I dunno, but you won't find any 'pulled this out of thin air' chosen one super powers here. If you see something close, well, chances are they're going to regret using it immediately after. As that's the other thing I seem to have a lot of. All the magic, the innate power, even the vampire and werewolf stuff, has side-effects or a cost of some sort if abused. And they're rarely easy things to deal with, discouraging the easy-mode buttons.

Impossible Enemy -- The antagonists/villains of my stories are rarely obvious. They're forces or emotions or some other nebulous thing. Even when they are something tangible the characters can face and fight...they're rarely defeated.

Complicated Endings -- On the previous note; I don't write happy endings. I've not gone in with that intention, but I've noticed looking back. Bittersweet is best case scenario. Conflicts will be resolved, mostly, but not all of them and while the characters will most often live on the world will not exactly be 'saved' so much as 'altered'. For the better? Maybe, for most, probably worse for some but it wont be as bad as it started and there might be hope that it'll continue to improve because of what they did. So, complicated. Always a little complicated.

Abuse -- Now...now this one is uncomfortable, as it should be, but it is in everything. My main characters, or those they interact closely with, have been abused in some way. Usually it is a horrific way that is touched on but not expressly described, other times it is expressly described to illustrate how horrific. But it's there. It's always there. I can't seem to write anything without it. I know the reason. I will not share the reason. Writing is therapy, and it helps.

#writeblr #writing community #writing #writer #author #tag game #thumbprint challenge

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shadypoliticianfromplanetvulcan · 3 years ago

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i feel like the murder of amy pond was very out of character for dean. we saw him letting go vampires, trying to safe werewolves, refusing to kill a vampire outright when she was begging him to just a season prior, befriending a vampire in the next and even working with demons (aka crowley) without really wanting to kill him all the time. sure, dean can be hot headed and sometimes cruel if he really is in over his head, but his strong defining characteristic is that he is not cold blooded - which is exactly what amy ponds murder was, especially considering her child. dean might not always know the right path at his first try, and that's okay because it's human and makes us sympathise with him. but mostly it's sam who talks him out of a killing spree. so him going behind sams back to kill her was kinda...off? especially since sam explained to him everything, like he did with those vampires in season two or the metamorphosis guy in season four, both much more dangerous monsters than amy.

maybe he would have thrown a bit of a fit, complained about black and white cases, maybe went after amy but backed off seeing the life she built and her child, especially since he knows what it means to do anything for your family. it cannot even be written off as some kind of "reverting into old days" throwback, because dean literally never was like that.

i think the writers wanted to add a bit of internal conflict to a mostly external conflict heavy season and i understand that, but it unfortunately usually comes at the cost of character and that is a real shame (they did the same with sam in the beginning of season eight too). Idk i don't want to make a big deal out of a tiny thing that never gets mentioned again after a few episodes, but there's that. i like when my boys make mistakes, but they have to be in-character-mistakes for me to buy them.

#spn analysis #dean winchester #amy pond #season seven #i know some of you all might not agree #but thats my take on that #lets discuss!

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thatgoblin · 3 years ago

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Ask meme: Carlos!!!! ^^

Headcannons of me and my Himbo Husband F/O

He's hot. No, literally. The man is a furnace and while it's wonderful in the winter, in the summer it's awful because I'm always hot and he wants cuddles bit I feel like I have a human sun attached to me. Upside is my feet always get cold so making him sit on them is always a win. Unless we're in bed and he doesn't expect then he whines.

No less then 5 times a day do we say 'What the fuck are you doing?' To each other. 5 times each that is. Either I'm being a weird goblin and talking to myself or trying to fight something OR he's trying to do a haka like dance for the cats who are entranced yet also terrified.

I thought I had a lot of hair. The man almost had me beat. We have to clean the drain once a month or it gets backed up. But oh my gods his hair is so soft. Even if he hasn't washed it in a few days.

Don't tell him to not do something. The jerk will do it. But then again I'm the same way. 'Do not add habanero to the chili! It has chilies in it already! I don't have an iron tongue like you!' 'But flavor, babe!' 'I am not dealing with an upset stomach later for the sake of your "flavor", Carlos.'

He loves to give affection in weird ways. Like whispering in my ear that he just took a big shit in the bathroom so give it a few minutes or he'll have worked on the yard all day and will come in to rub his stinky body on me. 'I gotta do it or the werewolves will sense you!' 'What werewolves!? What are you talking about, Carlos!?' 'The ones from Seattle. If they small an alpha on you then they'll leave you alone!' 'I'm gonna hose you, stahp!'

I do it right back to him though. Mostly with gentle nibbles. Kinda gentle. Gentle like. Okay sometimes I just straight up bite him where I can. There's also the times I do a 'mating ritual' which usually begins with me flapping a jacket I have on or a robe and making bird noises before proceeding to chase him and scream 'LET ME LOVE YOU!'

We both refer to the cats as our children. He's a proud papa of 3 cats who love him, well 2 who love him and one who tolerates him becausr Carlos feeds her. TBF Patty barely tolerates me.

Carlos sleeps like the dead. I'm pretty sure that I've tried to wake him a time or two when there was a definite need for him to be awake but he was just out. Short of throwing water on him, he was not getting. Yes, I poured water on him from one of the many water bottles we have.

He has become the neighbors nemesis. I tried to stop him, but when I found out why, I helped him. It was over some stupid bushes they didn't like in our yard so we planted more. They complained more, we hadded more. Now we have so many hydrangeas and I don't know how to care for them. Send help.

Carlos is absolutely amazing with his hands. The man can crack my body like a glow stick and I'll ask for more every time. He gives the best massages. I swear he should have been a masseuse. He doesn't like it when I try to give him one, something about 'I am not dough!' IDK.

Usually people don't care for feet, but Carlos doesn't mind it. I give him pedicures a lot because otherwise his feet would be EXTRA rough and I will not do that to my sheets.

For as much attention ad he may crave, he's pretty good about letting us have our own things. It's nice having that alone time but parallel play is good too.

The man can cook. He likes to as well and will hijack my dinners if I'm not careful. *points to habaneros in the chili*

While he will start out the big spoon, I always end up being his backpack because I wrap around him like an octopus when we sleep.

Also, he would sleep in nothing if I let him. Fear of having to quickly leave while grabbing the cats is real so he has to wear at least underwear. He whines but does it.

We'll leave the spicy details for later. ;)

#resident evil fanfiction #resident evil #fanfiction #Carlos oliveira #carlos oliveira x reader

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escapetodreamworld · 4 years ago

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I’ll protect you. Angie x fem!reader

Request: Can you write a one shot where reader saves Angie from the Collins? Requested by anon.

Words 4,259

Warnings: Angst Hurt/Comfort Character's we don’t care about die.

Thank you to the groupchat, we really do share a mind sometimes, you'll know what I'm talking about. There's also i little nod at the end about something we talked about.

A special thank you @arewecoolio who helped me a lot with this story. Thank you for hyping me up when I thought this was going to be a terrible fic, thank for giving me tips to help it run more smoothly. Ily.

You didn't even think twice when your powerful hearing picked up on her cries. You pushed yourself off your knees where you were scrubbing the tile floors, and sprinted as fast as you could through the manor. You finally reached the servants quarters, and didn't bother knocking on her door, barging right in. What you see makes your heartbreak and anger rise and burn in your throat.

Angelique’s curled into a ball sitting on the floor in between her bed and dresser. Tears rolling down her face, as a big bruise forms on her cheek, dried stream of her blood running from her lip down her chin.

You enter her room, closing the door behind you, you take a few steps towards Angelique before stopping. You drop to your knees and crawl the last couple feet towards her, stopping a foot away. Angelique hasn't acknowledged your presents, so you're careful not to touch her, you don't want to scare her.

"Angelique." You say softly, trying to get her attention. She continues to stare ahead, straight through you. "Angie, please, talk to me." You try again, voice cracking. You used your nickname for her, hoping it will snap her out of her trance.

She continues to stare at nothing, after a few moments of silence she speaks, so quiet that someone with normal hearing would have had a hard time understanding it.

"Master Collins caught me staring at Barnabas"

"Is that why you got that bruise? Because you stared at his son." You ask, your voice so low it comes out more as a growl. Angelique nods. "Angie, you can't keep doing this, the man is going to get you killed." You explain, hoping she finally listens to you. She doesn't.

"I just need to get his parents out of the way, then we can be together." She says, completely ignoring what you said. She stands up eruptly, moving through her room, grabbing a spell book from her hiding place. she turns back to you, her bruise and dried blood gone from her face. "Cover for me?" She asks.

You want to say "No way!" Tell her he's not worth it, tell her she's not thinking clearly. But you don't, you just nod your head. She grins and leaves the room, leaving you completely alone. Just like every other time she ditches you for Barnabas. You used to be inseparable, always following each other around, well you followed Angelique around. But there wasn't a day you weren't together.

At least until Barnabas Collins started showing interest in Angelique, after that, they were always sneaking around, doing things that could get Angie beaten if anyone found out. And you had to just sit there, praying the day they get caught would never come. A small part of yourself, hopes they do get caught, because then Angie would have to stop seeing him, and spend time with you again. You hate that part of yourself.

You admitted to yourself a long time ago that your feelings for Angie went way beyond friendship. Many times you catch yourself watching Angie while she watches Barnabas. Wishing she'd look at you like that. That intense stare, following wherever he goes.

It makes your blood boil knowing he doesn't love her, he only uses her, and Angie is to blind with love to see it. If they ever got caught, nothing would happen to him, he would go about his life like nothing happened, never sparing Angelique another thought.

And his parents, they would see that Angelique disappeared, you'd never see her again. And it would be all his fault, all because he was a man whore. The time that they get caught will come sooner or later. Angelique's right, his parents have to go. It's the only way she'll be safe. You can't wait for Angie to find a way, it could take days, weeks even, and the chances of getting caught are higher every day. You have to help her, you can't stand the thought of never seeing her again.

You sit there, on Angie's floor, trying to think of ways to ensure Angie's safety. There's only one thing that comes to mind, and you hate it, it disgusts you, makes you feel ill, but it's the only way, you'll have to kill them yourself, tonight. during the full moon.

Rising from the floor, you leave to find master Collins and lady Collins. It's getting dark, and the full moon is starting to rise. And every night master and lady Collins take an evening stroll. Everything's coming together perfectly. You would never do what you're about to do, but it's for Angie, you tell yourself. You hide in the trees near the manor, all you have to do is wait. And try not to chicken out.

The moon finally reaches peak position, you realize with dread. You step further into the shadows, letting the transformation take its hold on you. You've learned not to fight it, it only hurts if you do. After a few moments it's done, your legs and feet are longer and you're covered in hair.

A noise alerts you to two people approaching. the Collins on their walk, You crouch down to not alert their dog, and wait for them to get closer. Oddly before they can get close enough, a giant seahorse gargoyle falls onto them, killing them. You stand there, shocked before realizing Angelique must have found a way of getting rid of them. You run further into the wood, knowing the sound that statue made will make a servant or two investigate.

By the morning when you transform back into your human form, everyone knows of master and lady Collins passing. On your way to bed you're practically tackled by Angelique, she throws her arms around you. You're surprised but hug her back, when she finally pulls away she drags you into her room.

"Where were you last night? I came to your room last night to tell you something important but you weren't there." Angelique asks. Worried.

"Oh, I was out again, you know, watching the stars and full moon. I fell asleep out there again." You lie. You're a terrible liar but you know how to distract Angie so she forgets about it. "What did you have to tell me?" You ask quickly when it looked like Angelique was going to comment on your lie.

It works. Angie forgets, she immediately starts grinning. "I did it, I killed them." She whispers, so proud of what she's accomplished.

"I thought you might've had something to do with that accident." You say, even though you knew she had everything to do with it. Her grin gets wider.

"This means Barnabas and I can be together." She says, excitedly. Your heart drops, you forgot why she wanted them gone, so she could continue sleeping with Barnabas. Your heartbreaks, you don't hear what Angie's saying, it all sounds underwater to you. But you do notice that she starts to leave, practically skipping to the door. She turns around to say something else to you before she leaves.

"Oh, and (y/n), maybe don't fall asleep outdoors anymore. There could be werewolves." She says, jokingly. Before smiling and leaving you alone in her room once again. Her joke ringing in your ears, you never told her what you were. You didn't want her to know, the thought of her ever seeing you in that ugly form disgusts you. You feel bad for hiding it, but it's for the best.

Despite two of the Collins dying, everything continues on like normal, do your chores, then do whatever you want as long as you're not in the Collins family's way. Of course, it's only Barnabas now. Which means more freedom, but it comes at a price, that price for you is you never see Angie, and when you do all she does is complain that Barnabas isn't spending time with her. You want to be annoyed, but at least you're seeing her when she's complaining.

That's how it goes for weeks, only seeing her when she complains to you about Barnabas not sleeping with her. You're getting mad about it, all she does is tell you how she threw herself at him again and he just sends her away. But today is different.

She storms into your room while you're reading, she's angry, something about seeing Barnabas with some girl. How they were kissing and confessing their love for each other, you know Barnabas told Angie he didn't love her, you can see how mad Angie is. It makes you angry, but not for the reason she wants.

"Maybe you should just let him be happy, he clearly loves this girl." You snap, you couldn't hold it in anymore. All that anger is finally coming out.

"Excuse me! I tell you he's cheating on me and your suggestion if I let him!" Angelique yells, her anger now focusing on you. You don't care, you're going to say what needs to be said anyways.

"He's not cheating on you! He was never courting you! He was just using you, and you let him!" You yelled, frustrated. Why couldn't she just see that he doesn't love her.

"Whose side are you on?" She asks, angrily. You growl and grit out "yours" "are you sure? Cause it sounds like you don't care about me." She says, and that weakens you. Your shoulders slump, and you try your best to take deep breaths, releasing all your anger.

Once you've calmed down you address her. "I'm sorry Angie, I do care about you. It's just, miss you, i never see you anymore." You say sadly, look down at your hands, hoping she accepts your apology.

You hear her sigh, and feel her hand on your face, lifting your head up to look at her. Once you look at her she rubs her thumb over your cheek. You close your eyes, relaxing into her touch. "I am sorry too, you must have felt abandoned. I promise not to do it again. I just need to figure out how to get rid of this whore that's trying to take Barnabas away from me." She says, still rubbing circles in your cheek.

"I don't know Ang, push her off a cliff." You say, not really thinking about it, still caught up in the feeling and her warm hand on your face. But when she stops drawing patterns in your face, you open your eyes. Angelique has a wicked grin on her face, you've never seen her like this before, it scares you.

"You're a genius, my dear." She says, and you blush at the praise and pet name. But before you can say anything, she's withdrawing her hands and walks away. Once again leaving you. You sit there, staring at the door, you can't believe it happened again. She left you again, after promising. You close your door and cry.

You don't leave your room for two days, And no one checks on you. You know you'll have to leave your room before tonight, you can't risk changing into a werewolf while in the manor. But you stay in bed till you know you can't wait any longer, finally you sneak out, towards the servants staircase. But when you hear people on the stairwell, you quickly decide you don't want to see anyone and get asked questions, so you turn on your heels, heading for the main stairwell.

You hear a commotion from below, it sounds like a man shouting. You peer over the railing, listening to what was happening. You can't see anyone but you can hear them.

"You're a wretched woman, you're vile and evil, you killed the woman I love, you cursed me to be this monster, and you have the audacity to try and place your lips upon me!" You hear Barnabas shout, and he finally comes onto view. You're shocked by what you see, Barnabas is paler than you've ever thought possible, his fingernails are longer and sharper, almost like yours when you change. And the most terrifying part about him, he's covered in blood. "What did you do Angie?" You whisper to yourself.

You see Angelique following after him, a frown on her face, she grabs Barnabas's arm, spinning him to look at her. "Don't you see, I did this for us. So we could finally be together." She says, touching his face. Just like she did with you. A growl tries to escape your throat, you clasp your hands over your mouth. You realize in horror that you stayed too long, that the moon has risen. Backing away from the railing you hunch over, transforming, you try to stop it, hold it off just a little longer, but it's too strong.

Suddenly you hear a crash coming from below. Rushing back to the railing you see Angelique crumbled on the floor, on the complete opposite side of the room, from where she stood earlier. Barnabas slowly approaches, glaring down at Angelique, it's clear what happened, Barnabas threw her off of himself.

Barnabas lifts Angie up by her throat, you can see her struggling to breathe. And the next thing you know you're running full speed towards the two of them, slamming into Barnabas. You and him go tumbling to the floor, you hear Angie drop to the floor behind you, coughing and gasping for air.

You and Barnabas get up quickly, he stares at you in shock, you glare back. Your tense, ready to attack, "(y/n)? What has this witch done to you?" Barnabas asks, looking you over, deeply concerned about the state you're in. He reaches out to touch You, you growl and he pulls back. You can hear the coughing subside behind you, then a strained voice.

"(Y/n)?" Angelique says, shock clear in her voice, despite how rough it was. You send Barnabas another glare before turning to Angelique, dropping to your knees before her.

"Angie, are you alright?" You ask, carefully reaching to touch the bruising on her neck. You ignore Angie's eyes burning into your face, and focus on searching her for broken bones.

You touch her wrist, feeling for breaks. Angelique clasps her hand around your wrist, not painful, just enough to get your attention. you look at her, and you wish you could look away. "Why didn't you tell me?" her eyes bore into you so intensely, almost searching your very soul for the information she wants.

"I, I didn't want you to see me like this." You say, finally breaking eye contact. Staring at her bruises instead, until the familiar feeling of her hand on your cheek pulls you back in.

"I could have helped you." She says sadly, eyes showing the hurt she feels. You shake your head, pulling her hand away. "No spell can fix me Angie, you know that." You tell her, crying. Saddened by her concern for you. Stepping away from her, you turn back to Barnabas.

Barnabas was still standing there, watching your interaction. You send him another glare as you slowly advance on him. You can see the concern in his eyes, concern for his safety. He starts talking, rambling about what Angie did, how she deserves to burn for her crimes. You strike, your back hand to his face sends him into the wall. You ignore the gasp you hear coming from Angelique. You advance on him again, this time, once he gets back up, the fear in his eyes is gone, replaced with hate and determination.

He charges at you, and you're in a fight of teeth and claws, both trying to rip the other apart. You'll be damned if he's the survivor of the battle, you'll be the one winning this, even if it means Angelique never looks at you again, at least she'll be safe.

Barnabas throws a nasty punch to your stomach and in your moment of weakness, he grabs you, throwing you across the room. You hit the floor, sliding, you use your claws on the tile to slow you down, the sound is terrible but it stops you from hitting the wall behind you. Your back up, running at Barnabas, he charges you too, you leap up, striking in from the air. The blow causes him to be knocked over. You are on him, hands wrapped under his neck, trying to get it to break. He shoves you off, pushing you away a few feet, you run back towards him, only to get kicked. Thrown into the statue pillar, a sickening crack is heard and you're not sure if it came from you of the statue, too disoriented to tell.

You struggle to your feet when you hear Barnabas approaching, but he's next to you before you can, lifting you into the air by your throat. You struggle, trying to pry his hands away with your own, kicking him. You know the kicks hurt but he stays strong, choking you out. "I'm sorry about this (y/n)" he says, remorsefully, squeezing tighter. It's become very hard to see, you really just want to close your eyes. You can barely make out the scream coming from somewhere in the room.

"ENOUGH!"

Suddenly you drop to the floor, pain shooting through your knees from the impact, you gasp for air, struggling to inhale any. Your vision slowly comes back, you're able to see Barnabas, floating in mid air struggling to get out of the invisible hold he's in. You continue taking deep breaths, focusing your very limited vision on Barnabas, worried he'll drop at any second.

You flinch when you feel someone touch you, you jerk away from the touch, only to be pulled back into it. The smell of vanilla, and the unmistakable stench of magic hit your nose, you relax into it. Welcoming the touch you've been pulled into. You finally take your eyes off Barnabas, and focus on Angie. Taking in the tears on her cheeks, and the slight quiver of her lip.

"You idiot, you almost got killed, why should you do something so stupid?" Angelique asks, furiously. But you can see the concern all over her face. You smile, sheepishly. "You're welcome." Angie didn't like that answer, not one bit. Glaring at you, her way of saying "Don't joke." You stop smiling, You clear your throat, wincing in pain when you do. Angelique frowns, moving her hand over your throat, barely grazing it, you flinch when you feel it, causing her to pull back slightly.

Angelique carefully moves her hand back towards you, keeping eye contact. You don't flinch when she touches you this time, your neck feels tingly, then the pain in your throat is gone. "Now, tell me why you thought fighting a vampire was a good idea." Angie says, sternly. removing her hand from your throat.

"He hurt you, I couldn't stand by and watch him choke you to death." You explain to her, causing Angie to sigh. "So you thought you'd kill him. Sweetie, that's not like you." Angie says, running her hand through your messy hair, you wince when she touches a spot on the back of your head, both of you realizing you must have hit it, Angelique starts healing it. "I would do it for you, I would have killed his parents that night if you didn't beat me to it." You say, revealing that information caused Angelique to frown.

"You were going to kill Barnabas's parents for me? Why would you do something like that for me?" Angie asks, her brows scrunching in confusion. "Why are you so willing to hurt people or get hurt for me?" She questioned, and you realize this is the best opportunity to tell her.

"I would do anything for you, I love you." You tell Angelique, looking at every little detail on her face, memorizing it. When you meet her eyes you shiver, she's looking at you the way she does Barnabas, that intense possessive stare, the look you always wished was directed at you. You can help looking at her lips, Angie notices, her lips forming into a smirk.

She uses the hand still holding the back of your head to slowly pull your head towards hers, you're so excited, you're about to kiss the girl you've been dreaming about. But before you can press your lips to hers, you remember something and pull back. It confuses Angelique, but you quickly explain.

"My teeth are a lot sharper in this form, I could hurt you." You tell her, showing her your sharpened teeth. She looks at them and laughs. "I'll be careful." She says, leaning back into. You pull back again. "That's great but I might forget and cut you. Maybe we should wait till the sun rises?" You say, glancing towards the window. Angie pouts but nods, understanding your concern.

"Thank gods, I didn't want to see that disgusting display" you hear Barnabas growl. Angie's and your heads snap up to Barnabas, glaring daggers. You growl back but Angie acts quick, Barnabas is slammed into the ground, the tile shattering upon his impact. He's then thrown into the wall opposite the two of you, and finally he's positioned again in the spot he was hanging from earlier, his unconscious body above you.

Your eyes are brought back to Angie by the always familiar hand on your cheek, you lean against her hand, a content sigh leaving your lips. Angie smiles at you. "I love you." She whispers, kissing your cheek, very close to your lips. You're so happy, but one fear looms over you, along with his body.

"What are you going to do about Barnabas?" You ask Angie, you're deeply worried about her response. Her soft smile turns into a wicked grin, the same one you witnessed after telling her to push that girl off a cliff, it's worries you but gives you hope at the same time.

"I think the town's people would be very interested in knowing about our local vampire." She says, eyes wild. She grins at you then sneers at Barnabas's body.

The plan was simple. Angie tells the town's people about Barnabas, leads the angry mob to the manor, and you stay hidden so no one sees you, and she'll be back to you by sunrise. So far it's went well, they came for Barnabas dragging him out of the house, you've been hiding in Angie's spell room, the one place no one can find, unless Angie wants them to find it. The sun is almost risen, you'll turn back soon, but Angie isn't here yet. You're worried, what if Barnabas told everyone she was a witch and they believed him, what if he broke free and killed her. What if she just doesn't want to come back to you.

You've paced the room for what feels like forever, worrying yourself into a panic. You're about to sneak upstairs to see if there's any sign of Angie when you hear footsteps echo down the stone steps. The latch on the door clicks open and the door swings open, Angie strides in, a smirk plastered on her face. She closes the door behind her with a flick of her wrist.

"I'm sorry, those idiots wanted to try stoning him first, they didn't realize it would work, finally, they decided to bury him deep in the woods in a chained up coffin." She explains, washing the dirt from her hands in a wash bowl. "I marked the place he was buried, just to make sure we remember and so no one can unearth him." She continues saying.

You've listened silently, just content on watching her. You're so relieved she's back, safe, not one scorch mark on her. She turns around, catching you staring, she smirks and winks at you. You blush at being caught. Angelique stalks towards you, like she's hunting her prey. As she reaches you the sunlight shines through the window, basking the room in a golden color, all you can think about is how beautiful the color makes Angie look. But her grin makes you know she's thinking something very different.

Angie reaches out, grabbing your skirts pulling you closer to her, you gasp at the feeling of her body pressing against yours. Angie leans in to whisper something in your ear. "As cute as you look in the other form, this one's my favorite." She says, then kisses below your ear.

You gasp, both at the feeling of her lips and breathe on your ear and because you forgot what the sunrise meant. You're human again. You pull back so you can see Angie's face, and you can tell she can't hold off anymore. You lean forward, and Angie surges forwards meeting your lips, it doesn't take long for a whimper to leave your lips, but Angie swallows it, pressing further into you.

It's bliss, pure bliss, you've never been happier than in this moment, and you know, it'll feel like this for a very long time to come. You'll do anything to keep Angie happy, and in the following centuries, you do just that. Sure Angie is happy with you, your relationship hasn't lost any if it's intensity or love. But you're in love with a devious little witch, and she thinks it's fun to mess with the Collins family, she even asks you to help sometimes, so when she begs and seduces you into going to bite the Collins kid. You do it.

#angelique bouchard x reader #dark shadows #angelique bouchard

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let-love-run-red · 3 years ago

Note

Could I get a werewolf fanfic with Garcello where he like- Finds the reader hurt in the woods because of family issues (haha not self projecting wdym--) And takes them in and Annie and Garcello don't know what to do and then the reader wakes up to find herself in a tricky situation with 2 werepeople if that makes any sense? Pls and ty djjddnjdnf

Of course you can anon! Garcello would be such a fluffy werewolf I love him. I'm sorry this took so long for me to get to!

PS: This is the type of werewolf I imagine Garcello and Annie to be

***

You ran through the woods. You couldn't see well through the rain, and it was dark in these woods despite the bright full moon, so you just hoped you wouldn't trip over anything. You were hurt, not physically at least, just emotionally. Your family had always had their, difficult, moments. But usually it was all things you could handle.

Not today.

Not this time.

You tripped over something, probably a root, and went sprawling into the mud and leaves. You sat for a moment with tears streaming down your cheeks as you sat up. Your clothes were now covered in mud, just great.

You took a deep breath and looked up, trying your best to see through the rain. Everything just seemed like blurry shapes in the dark. You sniffled and stood up, trying to keep yourself warm in your soaking wet clothes. You turned to look around at the small clearing you were in, startled to see two pairs of glowing eyes looking at you from the bushes.

You stepped back, worried about what it might be. They were up too high to be a fox or raccoon, and the bears in these woods were usually solitary, but you didn't know of anything else large enough to have those eyes. You watched as two figures stepped out of the bushes, two hulking figures with fur and sharp claws.

The larger of the two, the one in the front, had glowing yellow eyes. The fur covering it's body was a mix of dusty brown and teal green. It walked on it's rear legs, but hunched over and supported it's weight on it's knuckles as well, almost the way a gorilla would walk. It had a short bushy brown tail, and tall pointed ears. It would look almost friendly, if it weren't for the long pointed fangs poking out from it's snout.

The second one, the one behind, was smaller. It had fur as black as the shadows with glowing red eyes. It's ears were shorter, and it's fur was longer than the first creature's, but the fangs and claws were just as sharp. Just as dangerous.

You took another step back as the larger of the two took a halting hop-step towards you, only to feel your shoe catch in the mud on the ground. You fell backwards with a cry, doing your best to catch yourself before you fell to the ground and your head connected with the earth with a thud. Your vision faded, the last thing clear being the glowing yellow eyes of the creature.

***

When you came to you were in an unfamiliar house, in an unfamiliar bed, wearing unfamiliar clothes. You sat up quickly, regretting it as your head pounded. You lifted a hand to your head and grimaced. You slowly opened your eyes and looked around the room to see sunlight peeking through the curtains over the windows. You threw the blanket off your legs, looking down at them. You were wearing a pair of basketball shorts that were a little too big for you. Your knees were bruised and scraped from your fall.

You stood up out of the bed, slowly making your way to the door and peeking your head out of it. The door opened up to a short hallway, with a door on either side. The hall opened into what you assumed was the living room, you could just see the side of a couch. You stepped out of the door, trying your best to walk silently on the hardwood floor.

"Well what were we supposed to do Annie? Just leave here there?" You heard a male voice snap. You paused. It was coming from the end of the hall, just around the corner. The kitchen must be there then.

"Anything other than take her home Garcello! What are we supposed to do now?" A female voice, probably Annie, asked. You heard a huff.

"What now Garcello?" She pressed. You took another step down the hall.

"I don't know. But I wasn't going to let her freeze to death in the forest." The man, Garcello, responded. So he had brought you here? He was the one to rescue you?

"You're the one who gets to explain that to her." Annie said. Her voice sounded close, and you were about to turn to run back into the room when she came around the corner and almost ran into you. She had brown eyes that had a slight red tinge to them, and jet black hair. She wore an oversized sweater and a pair of gray sweatpants. She paused, looking to you in surprise.

"O-oh, hi. You're awake." She said. She turned to look back into the kitchen and cleared her throat before turning back to meet your eyes.

"How, how long have you been up?" She asked you, furrowing her brows and crossing her arms. You heard heavy footsteps and another person appeared from around the corner.

He was tall, easily 6'5", and broad too. His shoulders looked like they wouldn't fit through a doorway. The white T-shirt he wore clung to him tightly, showing off his dad bod. He had the same teal green hair with dusty brown roots that the creature from the night before had. Were these, it couldn't be...

"Hi, you're awake." He said, copying the words Annie had used. You swallowed and nodded slowly, looking between the two.

"What do you remember?" He asked, standing next to Annie in the hallway. You wanted to run back into the room and lock yourself away, but he seemed safe and welcoming. And this place was definitely better than the one you came from.

"Um, I saw two, things, in the woods, and the, I fell, and I think I blacked out." You explained as you looked between the two of them.

"Do you remember what they looked like?" Annie pressed you. You nodded, how could you forget.

"They looked like, I don't know. It sounds crazy." You said, shaking your head with a chuckle. The two exchanged a glance and Garcello cleared his throat.

"Werewolves?" He asked. You paused before nodding. He crossed his arms and puffed out his cheeks before blowing out a breath.

"Um, yeah. That, that was us." He said, looking to Annie. You hesitated.

"We uh, we found you and we-" Annie cut him off with a harsh clearing of her throat. Garcello rolled his eyes. "I didn't want to leave you there alone." He explained, lifting a hand to scratch at his stubble. He offered a shy smile, showing his eerily sharp canine teeth.

"We can take you back there and you're welcome to head home. We just wanted to make sure you were ok." He finished, shifting his weight from foot to foot. You felt your heart drop at the thought of returning home. You couldn't go back, not after what had happened, You shook your head violently ad Garcello tilted his head.

"No, no I don't want to go back." You said firmly. Annie excused herself, walking into the door on the left side of the hallway. Garcello watched her for a moment before turning to you.

"Did something happen?" He asked. His voice was soft and calming, it made you feel safe, even though you didn't know these people. You felt safer here than you ever had with your family.

"I just, my family. They're not good people." You said softly, scratching your arm and looking down at the shirt you wore. It was a band shirt, Mystery Skulls. It was soft and worn thin and the design on the front was faded, it was well loved.

"I'm sorry," Garcello paused. "you're welcome to stay." He offered after a moment. You looked up at him curiously and saw his cheeks dusted a light shade of pink. The tips of his ears that poked through his hair were the same blush color and he scratched at his stubble again.

"If you don't have anywhere else to go." He rushed to add. You met his eyes, that same soft shade of honey gold you saw in the wolf's eyes last night. He wasn't human, that was for sure, but sometimes humans were worse than monsters.

Humans had driven you into the woods last night, and werewolves gave you a safe place to stay when you were alone and hurt. You nodded slowly and Garcello smiled softly.

"If it's not a bother, yeah. I'd like to stay."

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herstarburststories · 4 years ago

Text

You Have A Home

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: After a call from Y/N, Sam comes back town to help -- and brings Dean with him.

Requests: N°1 heyhey, could you do a Sam x reader where they went to college togehter and later meet again and they realise their feelings for eachother...xx + N°2: can you do a college sam headcanon with medicine student reader

A/N: This was fun! The monster here is mentioned in season 6, when the boys ask Bobby for advice on how to kill it. This is my first Samgirl long imagine, with Dean being the flirty he is. I wrote this almost one year ago, so it's more crude and I'm nervous to be posting it! And my piece for @cajunquandary 's 600 challenge, my prompt was monster of the week. Dividers by @talesmaniac89!

Dean's eyes remained on the road when the bitter statement left his body, tangled with a wry chuckle, “I can't believe you are still in touch with those people.”

“Those people?” Sam arched elbows, slightly skeptical by his brother's tone, “They were my friends, Dean.”

“Sammy, all our friends? Dead. They all die. Or worse.” He glanced at him for a moment, pursing his lips together. It might not be an easy assignment, but was part of the job. Sammy had tried to run away plenty times and always came back, when would he understand? “We don't get to have friends. You should've learned that.”

“They are not our friends, they are my friends. Also, they don't know about the hunting life, they aren't in harm.” Sammy hissed once the other locked his green eyes on the road again. Dean sighed, moving one hand away and up from the steering wheel in a rendition gesture.

“Whatever you say, man. I'm just warning you, this doesn't usually end up good for them.”

Sam scoffed, Dean could get on his nerves sometimes, “We saved many people that got to have a good life.”

“Yeah, but those people didn't know us before that. I told you when you left Stanford--”

“I didn't keep contact, okay!? I just... I just still have a phone that they have the number of. No social media, no calls on birthdays.” Nervously gesticulating, he added, “I know how to keep them safe, Dean.”

“So, old friend?” The eldest Winchester asked after the few minutes of silence that followed Sam's outburst, “Female old friend?”

“Yes. (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Dean smirked, and Sam to rolled his eyes at his behavior, “Keep it in your pants.”

He'd let out a malicious laughter before turning on the radio, the first guitar sounds of AC/DC playing in the background.

“I think you'll be the one not keeping it, Sammy.”

“Hello?” The woman in nothing but a towel who had opened the door greeted them with a question, her brown eyes glaring at the two men with clear confusion.

Dean had no shame to check her out, innerly celebrating that she was still wet from her shower. Perhaps visiting Sam's friends wasn't that big mistake. “Hey, you.”

She grimaced at Dean for two seconds before turning her attention to Sam again, sudden recognition written on her face.

“Sam? Sam Winchester?” He nodded, smiling that light-hearted boyish grin at her. Not caring about her dressings, she just threw herself at Sammy, hugging him tightly. “I missed you!” She pulled away only to hit his shoulder. Her short stature didn't match Sam's, but he'd still make a grimace at her attempt of slap. “Why didn't you call? God, your hair grew a lot. Listen, I have some scissors.”

“Tried that, didn't work.” Dean interrupted their reencounter, trying to get in the conversation. An usual lopsided grin on his face, “Dean Winchester, Sam's brother.”

“Layla, Sam's friend.” She gave him a friendly smile in return, opening space for them to pass through the door before closing it, “Come in, I need to change in clothes.”

“I wouldn't even dream of that. Seriously.”

Layla would just wiggle one of her brows at Dean's comments, not impressed by it, “Ele é sempre assim? (Is he always like this?)”

Thankfully, Sam still remembered a bit of his friend's native language. He just chuckled, managing to apologize for Dean's typical Dean behavior, “Unfortunately. Sinto muito. (I'm sorry)”

“(Y/N) is in the kitchen. I'll be right back.” Her accent was thicking stronger duo the comfortability around Sam. Excusing herself, the caramel skinned girl leaded upstairs.

“What did she say?” Dean asked, side glancing at the path Layla had just gone on, not even sure of which language she'd just spoken, much less what was said. Sammy didn't bother replying, satisfied to grin at his obvxion brother. “Dude, come on!”

“Sam!” A well-known voice filled the room as the image of (Y/N) appeared in front of them, dressing your loyal cook's avental. You didn't think twice before jumping on Sam. “I missed you, giant!”

He, like always, caught you with a light-hearted laughter, “I missed you too, cupcake.” You two spent a few moments like this, enjoying each other's warm and long lost touch, until Dean cleared his throat. You finally went back to the ground, embarrassed by having a stranger to see that level of intimacy between you and Sam, “This is Dean, my--”

“Handsome brother. Hello, cupcake.” Dean was so going to tease Sam for the rest of his life for it.

“You really live up for Sam's description.” You giggled, heading towards the kitchen “Come in, I'm baking.”

“So, you and Layla still live together?”

“Most of the time, yes. You know how she is, comes and goes. Never wanted to stay in a place for too long and got a job that supported that.” The boys followed you, Dean examining the kitchen and trying to discover what you were cooking through the smell, while Sam couldn't take his eyes on you, “Apparently, just like you.”

Even though your back was facing them as you checked the food, the bite didn't pass unnoticed, “I had to leave, (Y/N)”

“I understand that, Sam. But you never called or texted. It was like I--” You quickly corrected yourself, “We never existed for you.”

“It's not like that.” Sam sighed, how could he justify? He knew you wouldn't buy a simple excuse. You were smart, and knew him too well to swallow a 'I went on a trip with my brother and just decided that college wasn't my deal' and leave it for that.

“I'm here!” Layla declared, arriving into the room with an excited smile, it was good to have the gang back together. Although, the tangible tension almost made her go back to the shower, “Am I interrupting something?”

“A sitcom DR.” Dean answered with sarcasm, spreading his figure on the chair when you turned around with an apple pie in your hands “What about we talk about the ca-- Is this pie?”

“We heard a scream followed by a loud roar and (Y/N) stayed near the camping part because there was still a signal and I went looking for who it was. When I got there, the thing ran away. Jorge's body... No human did that. His chest was cracked open irregularly, as if it was done by an animal and his heart looked weird. Like it was squeezed and drawn on up somehow?”

“We got a Samia.” Dean stated, relaxing on his spot. Some sault, rosemary and fire would do the job just fine, “Let me guess, it left a clawn near the body or inside it?”

Layla nodded, “Right in the chest or what lasted of it.”

“Are you okay? Finding the body in that state.” A comprehensive manner englobed Sam's question, whom noticed the normality with his friend described finding a shattered body.

“Just some guts.” She shrugged, a grimace was all the reaction they'd get. Crying wouldn't help, neither being terrorized as they expected her too. “I've seen Grey's Anatomy enough not to care about it.”

“Well, I'm literally a medicine student and I am still not okay with that. Especially after you made me go and check the body.” You argued, glaring at your best friend who'd only roll her eyes in response.

“I needed a professional to say if he was dead or not!”

“You need a therapist.”

Dean got up, looking straight at Layla. Time to play the hero in shining armor, “Don't worry with that, we will take care of it.”

Frowning, you were the one to respond, “Do you work for the police now or?”

“Are implying that we investigate it by ourselves?” Your best friend added.

Dean couldn't believe his brother. How the fuck did he let them get inside without saying they didn't know about the hunting business? It was a luck shot that they didn't think much when he said Samia.

“Nope. Not you two. We will do it.” The blonde one said, pointing at them with a smirk.

“I agree, we will do it.” Layla replied, matching his taunt smile.

“Sam, I'm not letting you and your brother do it by yourself. Jorge was my professor, I knew him. Besides, we found the body.” You got on your feet and crossed your arms, waiting for a response. Sam always had a sort of hero complex, ready to help no matter what, but there was no way you'd be letting him go into danger with his brother. Getting in your dormitory to kill a cockroach back then or facing an idiot during a bar fight to protect one of your friends was something, but this? They were talking about looking for an assassin. What if something happened to him? You were the one who called. All on you. The thought of Sam getting hurt for any reason was unbearable, but because of you? You weren't willing to do that.

“You would be in danger, (Y/N). You both.” He tried to explain, internally hoping you'd accept his reasoning and let it go. Sam didn't want you to become one of the friends who knew about this life, you deserve more. He already lost one woman he loved in this city, he couldn't lose another.

You huffed in frustration, “Just like you will!”

“It's different.” As he was terrified of, you insisted. Arms crossed still and eyes locked with his, determined to get something from him. Sam was smart enough to know that you would keep it going. Perhaps he could give you a short explanation, “Me and my brother, we are used to this. We hunt things like that.”

Layla tilted her head to the side. The way Sam talked remembered her of animal hunting, although she highly doubted that was the case, “Little more explanation?'”

“Monsters are real. Vampires, werewolves, spirits. The list goes on. Call us crazy. Roll the credits.” Sarcasm saltered every word of Dean's as he gestured up and down with a cocky smile. Everyone glared at him, a special furious look from his brother, “What? I thought they knew what we did and that's why she called.”

“Sam?” Your voice was fragile when you said his name, a demonstration that you would believe him through the fear of the truth, but that he had to say it.

Sam laid his hazel eyes on you. God, how he wished he didn't have to confirm anything, to break your vision of world so abruptly, “Dean is right. Supernatural things are real. I know it sounds--”

“Unbelievable? Problematic? Scary?”

“Yeah, all of them.” Sam offered you a humorless smile, then holding your hand the way he used to when you were nervous about an exam, “But I wouldn't lie to you, cupcake.”

The silence was broken by Layla opening a bottle of Whiskey, pouring them for the three people in the room besides herself. You rolled your eyes at your best friend, while Sam wore a tiny smile and Dean was astonished.

Noticing the eyes glued, the latina just shrugged “What? If you are gonna tell me that Dracula is real and you are a sort of Buffy's apprentice, then we will need some alcohol.”

“Why did you call?” Sammy asked, his brows knotted together, mouth slight open as he waited for your response. “You didn't know what I did. And he wasn't my professor at Stanford. Then why did you call, (Y/N)?”

You could make up a hundred excuses. Lie and say he was the one friend besides Layla that you had somehow a way to get to. Appeal to the excuse of 'I felt something weird about the death and you said I should call if I ever had a problem of any kind'. But for as much as you felt horrible for using a death as a pretext for calling him, that was partially the truth. You already had put yourself into a mess of monsters and a drained heart, it couldn't be scarier than being honest to Sam and to yourself.

At least, you hoped so. But your heart was rushing like when you saw Jorge's body. Jesus, when did love become so morbid?

You took a deep breath, oxygen barely achieving your lungs, and then started to talk.

“I wanted to call you the minute that you left, Sam. I almost did a million times.” You answered, looking down at the bottle of a sort of plant that he was putting in a dark green bag. “I thought about what you could be doing, what was so important that you couldn't send me a message. But you just didn't want to call, I guess.”

“I wanted to call, of course I did.” You scoffed at his statement, looking up to match his eyes, “(Y/N), I'm serious.”

“You didn't even come to Jess' funeral, Sam. Layla said that maybe you needed to leave to clear your mind, that was too much to deal with. But I was so worried, and sad and confused and I wanted to talk to you because you would understand, you always did. About anything. And I wanted to give you some sort of comfort, but--” You lifted your hands and shrugged your shoulder, a broken chuckle leaving your body. “But you weren't here.”

“You stopped leaving messages after two weeks. Calling was gone when it made a moth.” You sniffed. Sam's lips curved into a pure, cautelous grin. God, he was always so sweet. “The emails took two months.”

“You were never good with dates. I gave you a calendar in your freshman week.” Your teeth met your lower lip. He didn't answer, only nodding at your affirmation, omitting the fact that he still had the calendar between latin books and pieces of newspapers, “Yet, you remember all of it.”

Sam leaned forward, holding your hand with all the delicacy you would expect from a sculptor. It had been too long since he hugged you, and his touch made all your skin tickle with warmth. “I missed you too, (Y/N). I thought about you all those years.”

“So, Cupcake?”

"Let's focus on the case, Dean."

“Then you can go back and eat your cupcake?” He remarked with a grin. His brother just huffed, pointing the flashlight through the trees, “So, Layla…”

Sam rolled his eyes, like he usually did when Dean started being too Dean for his liking, “Dean. The case.”

Before he could make another teaseful comment, a roar invaded their audition. The hunters gave each other a quick glance before heading towards the direction of the noise.

Shaking the salt and rosemary mixture in his hands, Dean smirked, “That's it. Time to shine, cupcake.”

“I have to admit. Being patched up by a doctor is better than by Dean.”

A surprised, half relieved laughter came out your body as you finished another stitch on Sam's arm. That boy was unbelievable; openly talking and making jokes about his brother, who was also being patched up by your best friend in company of a bottle of whiskey, while he spoke about Layla's name being a rock song. You were working on a large wound on his shoulder-- which you were sure that was full of dirt from the forest.

Medicine student, but I'll take that complement.” You winked at him, gaining a soft grin from Sammy, “I was expecting more blo-- Why are you smiling? I'm touching a recent wound. It doesn't look dangerous, but I'm sure it is supposed to hurt. A lot.”

Sam's answer came out easily, the bare, vulnerable truth: “I'm happy you are here.”

You looked at him, his hair longer than before, but the soft simper remained on his face. You bit your lip to hold a giggle; her heart dared to hope. What he expected when he said things like this? A quiet contentment spread through his expression while he watched your reaction.

“You should have come home sooner.”

His mouth formed a line, “I don't have a home, (Y/N). It's just Dean, me and the road now.”

“No, Sam.” Shaking your head lightly, you intertwined your fingers with his. His life was dangerous, you couldn't afford the luxury of waiting even more to share what you had finally admitted to yourself in the moment he walked through the door. It didn't seem like the easiest, simpler situation. But the only hard thing you couldn’t go through was to be away from Sam Winchester. He lingered on you for years, you were done letting him run away. It was time to hold his hand and walk together. “You should've come home sooner. To me.”

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